#better place now after going through all that

[gwydionmisha]

My parents did it similarly, though not entirely the same as the OP (I'm an Xer) and I absolutely agree with their conclusions. I can not stress enough how good the explain why thing is.

We were expected to stop if an adult yelled stop. We could ask why after, but generally, there was a very good reason, like a car was coming. (We did do logical consequences, like throw a tantrum and we leave, so you don't get to do the thing we were going to do. Scream in the restaurant, and we don't get to eat in the restaurant. That sort of thing).

The answers to why made sense. It gave us the idea that rules had reasons and you should think about reasons before deciding to break one.

We had a process for rules changes. We could go and say, "I think this rule should be changed, and here's why." We could then make a case for it using reason and wherever possible evidence. They would discuss it and get back to us, usually in a day or two, never longer than a week. They might change the rule. They might offer a compromise or a negotiation towards a compromise. They might say, "We think you're a little too young, ask again in a year." They might say no and here's why. At which point there was a chance for a counter argument. If that failed wait a year and try again.

This is a far better preparation for adulthood than because I said and violent punishment. Sure, I would break rules now and then, but I always did it with forethought, weighing reasons and risks and consequences. If caught, I could explain why. Ex.: "I snuck out because a friend was at a party turning ugly and I went to take them home." I avoided a lot of stupid and dangerous behavior my friends and relatives my age got into because they were stuck in a punishment and rebellion cycle with their parents or parent. (I wasn't an angel, but every rule I broke was something I decided was worth it after thinking it through).

My parent's relationship style of discussing things calmly and negotiating solutions with each other served me pretty well in my own dating life, as did the fundamental sense that we were all on one team, working together as a family to achieve goals and solve problems. If you are all on one side, you don't fight to win or fight to hurt the other person; instead you negotiate to get your needs met and to make sure everyone can live with the outcome whether the issue is dishes or not having enough money for the electric bill or big life questions.

It also is way better prep for living in a Democracy. I think the reasons why are pretty obvious. Rational argumentation and negotiation is a way healthier approach to government than the one authoritarian parenting sets you up for. It's good to question the whys of rules and systems in place and if they aren't working, look for ways to fix them. Preferably as a group.

Because we do better as a group when we are all trying to improve things instead of putting all our energy into winning or hurting the other person.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[stellamarielu]

blurred lines

joel miller x female reader

summary: you ask your dad’s best friend to give you a ride home after a night out, which leads to you teasing him in the backseat of his truck as he watches you in the rearview mirror.

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, dbf!joel, no outbreak!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel being chivalrous, but also being a down bad freak, heavy voyeurism, female masturbation, praise kink out the wahzoo, basically joel just watches you finger fuck yourself in the backseat of his truck

author’s note: listen i’m no better than the rest of you, i’ll fold for a dbf!joel miller fic. i’m sorry to all the joel miller/pedro pascal girlies for having to deal with my ass infiltrating your fandom BUT i come bearing gifts of filthy, depraved smut!!!

—

You were standing out on the curb with your arms crossed over your chest. The faint music from the bar behind you filled your ears and the February wind had goosebumps raising on your skin. You were beginning to regret your decision to forgo a jacket. The choice felt right when you were bar hopping earlier, free from lugging around an extra layer of clothing, but now it was coming back to bite you in the ass as you stood out in the cold clad only in a skimpy little dress.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long as you watched a familiar truck pull up in front of you.

Joel Miller’s dark grey pickup came sliding up on the street and you could see the man behind the wheel smiling through the driver’s side window, amused at your poor choice in inadequate clothing. 

Without missing a beat, you pulled on the handle of the door behind him, sliding to the middle of the spacious backseat. 

“What the hell are you doin’ kid?” His voice was a low chuckle as he turned his head back to look at you. 

“You know you can sit in the front? Pretty sure you’re old enough.” He sounded entertained as his eyes met yours.

“It’s more fun this way.” You were giggling out.

“It’s like we’re in an uber.” You were leaning forward with your eyes still on him, your chest practically falling out of your dress. 

Joel was fighting with himself not to let his eyes wander to your exposed skin when he decided to face forward again. 

Jesus you were hardly wearing any clothes. He was starting to question why he had agreed to come pick you up in the first place. Oh yeah, it’s because his dumbass made a comment weeks ago about being able to give you a ride if you were ever too drunk to drive. And judging by the way your words were falling from your lips in a carefree giggle and how your body was folded forward over the middle console of his truck, you were definitely in no shape to drive.

You were in college and still living with your dad in an effort to save up some cash. Sure, it was nice not to worry about rent, but living under your father’s roof came with its downfalls– like him being far too aware of your whereabouts.

That’s when you and Joel shared a whispered conversation about him being there if you ever needed a hand sneaking around your dad’s constant need to be in your business.

He had joked about being your designated driver if you ever needed one, and tonight after a few vodka sodas and your friends not wanting to end their fun, you had taken him up on his offer. It was no surprise that he agreed to come get you, Joel was always so nice to you– a perfect gentleman.

You met him last year after him and your dad worked on the same construction site. Their friendship started with shared beers after work and quickly turned into Joel and his daughter coming to your house every weekend for Sunday night football and dinner. Your two families had gotten pretty close, and you began to look forward to seeing Joel every week.

He was a friendly guy, always cracking jokes and drumming up conversation, not to mention he was incredibly attractive. In fact, you had developed quite the little crush on him. You would act calm, cool, and collected every time you spoke with him, only to go on losing sleep at night thinking about how dreamy he was. It was just a bit of harmless fun, a teeny tiny unrequited crush on your dad's best friend. That was until you caught him watching you a few months ago, like really watching you.

If it had been anyone else you might’ve found it creepy, but it was Joel. Joel who was undeniably single, and funny, and handsome, and older. Joel who was raking his eyes down your body inch by inch when you had skipped downstairs in the world’s tiniest pajama shorts and an equally teasing crop top. You weren’t expecting to see him standing in your kitchen that early on a Tuesday morning yet there he was, gawking at your ass cheeks that couldn’t be covered by the barely-there material of your shorts. He saw you watching him as he stared at you. He didn’t even try to hide it. Both of you frozen in your kitchen and the tension palpable before your dad came into the room muttering something about his car not starting and Joel giving him a ride. 

After that day your little crush on Joel Miller turned into a full-blown obsession.

You wanted to have his eyes on you like that again. You dreamed about him staring at you. The scenarios that you conjured up about him late at night could land you in the loony bin, but you didn’t care. This new desperation to fulfill the fantasies plaguing your brain were all you could think about, and you were determined to do something about it. 

“I don’t understand how you’re wearin’ that when it’s so cold outside.” Joel’s eyes were staring straight ahead as he began to drive you home, pulling his car back onto the road and moving with the traffic on the busy street.

“Well you’ve obviously never been a girl on 6th street on a Saturday night.” You were still leaning forward in your seat making sure to push your cleavage together with your arms now that you knew he was looking at your outfit.

“Obviously.” He was mocking you with his response, eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror. 

“What’s Sarah up to tonight?”

Your question was harmless as you leaned back in your seat peering out the window and admiring the bright lights of the city around you. 

“She’s staying over at a friend’s house.” Joel’s eyes were back on the road, focused on the route back to your house.

“Probably for the best, don’t want her knowing I’m picking up your drunk ass at 2am.” 

You were shooting him a glare that he couldn’t see while he chuckled under his breath. 

“Don’t need you lookin’ like a bad influence.” He was peeking at you through the mirror again, a smirk on his lips. 

“Oh please, I’m an angel.”

You were responding in a sugary sweet voice, your eyes holding as much innocence as you could muster, only drawing more attention to the way your tits were pushed up against your arms. 

It was such a sinful image, one that Joel let his eyes linger on for a little too long as he stared at you through the mirror. 

You were addicted to the way he was looking at you.

Quite frankly, you were addicted to everything about him.

You could almost feel the liquid courage still coursing through your veins as you relaxed against the leather seat, arching your back slightly and looking up at him through your lashes.

“You could just take me back to your place.” Your voice was hushed as you watched Joel’s expression fill with confusion, his eyes finding the road again. 

“And why on earth would I do that?” He may have been confused but his voice remained playful as he questioned you.  

“Because maybe I want you to finally do something about that wandering eye of yours.” 

There it was– the words you had been holding back for months. I see the way you look at me, I’m into it, and I want you to fuck me. 

“Don’t know what your talkin’ about angel.”

His voice was mocking as he used the title you had given yourself moments ago. He was tip toeing closer to the blurred line of whatever unspoken tension had been building between the two of you.

Oh, game on. If he wanted to tease you, two could play at that game. 

“C’mon Mr. Miller I know you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

The use of his surname had Joel’s eyes snapping up to the mirror to meet your gaze. As soon as his eyes were on yours, he regretted it. You looked downright drunk, but not from whatever alcohol was left in your system– no, you were drunk off desire. For him. 

“I know you like to watch...” The words were leaving your lips in a disgustingly sweet tone and your hand was ghosting over your chest. 

“Don’t.” His voice was stern as he spoke, but his eyes were still on yours in the mirror all big and needy, telling an entirely different story. 

“Don’t what?” 

Your hands were teasing the lowcut neckline of your dress as you spoke. 

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the road? You seem a little distracted.” The flirtatious words falling from your lips worked in tandem with your hands that were now cupping your breasts and trailing down your torso.

You searched for his eyes in the rearview mirror again, only now they were focused ahead instead of on you. 

“You’re drunk, I’m not doin’ this with you right now.”

Oh so he wanted to parade around on his high horse? Not happening.

“I’m not drunk. I had a few drinks hours ago. I’m of sound mind Mr. Miller.”

There it was again, Mr. Miller. You had never called him that before, not once. But now you were sitting in the backseat of his truck with your hands all over your body saying it over and over again and he thought he was going to combust. 

“And what if I hadn’t been drinking tonight? Then would you watch me do this.” 

What little alcohol that was left metabolizing in your body must’ve given you enough confidence to spread your legs, the movement hiking your dress all the way up your thighs. You hand was sliding down your body only to stop when it found the thin material of your lace panties.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.” Joel was groaning out when his eyes flickered to the mirror to watch you all spread out in his backseat like that. 

“Knew you liked to watch.” You were whispering as your fingertips danced at the hem of your underwear. 

“What do you want me to do?” You were teasing as you let your fingers wander closer to your core, legs still wide open.

“Want me to stop Mr. Miller?”

You could see the way his hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was squeezing. 

He was holding on as tight as humanly possible while he debated his next move. Did he get serious and put a stop to this, or did he let himself have a little bit of fun and surrender to the pretty young thing all needy in his backseat. 

“Want you to keep touchin’ yourself angel.” His voice was gruff, muddled with lust and bad decisions as he finally gave in to temptation.

You hummed out a quiet moan of victory as your hand met the wetness of your panties, your fingertips tracing up and down your clothed center. 

Joel’s eyes were a constant boomerang going back and forth between the road ahead of him and the reflection of you playing out in the mirror above him.

He knew it was wrong to let you do this right now. He was the older more mature one in the situation, he should be telling you to stop. Only he couldn’t. He had been fighting himself on this for far too long. The once thick rope that was holding him back from giving into his desire had been thinning since that morning months ago when you had your ass on display for him before 8:30 in the morning. The restraint had become a single, tiny strand keeping him from pouncing on you and now that you were in his backseat with your hands between your legs, he had given up entirely, cutting the string with his own pair of shiny, perverted scissors. 

“C’mon baby, keep goin’.” He was encouraging your filthy movements when your eyes met each other in the rearview mirror.

His brows were furrowed and the look in his eyes was completely primal. That glare alone made you pull your panties to the side, giving him a glimpse of your slit, all swollen and glistening– excited by the spontaneity of being half naked in the back of his truck.

“Fuck.” The groan that fell from his lips had you wanting to shove two fingers as deep into you as they could possibly go, but instead you decided to spread your arousal over your opening, taking your time and teasing the man sitting in front of you. 

“I always think about you Joel.” Your voice was timid now as you preened underneath your own fingers.

“Think about you when I’m touching myself.” The words were a breathless hum as your fingertips found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it and allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the sensation.

“That right baby?” You could tell Joel was holding onto what little composure he had left as he continued to prompt your self indulgence. 

“Show me” 

Each time his eyes found the mirror again you could feel the heat spreading throughout your body. 

“Show me what you like. Show me what feels good.” 

Fuck. You had a feeling Joel would be good with his mouth, but you didn’t anticipate him being this good with his words. The filthy things he was saying were driving you further into a place of utter insanity. He had you on the edge of going feral as you nearly forgot you were in the backseat of his car, your fingers working faster on the bundle of nerves at your center.

The moans bubbling out of your throat were evidence of your dazed headspace and you weren’t sure what felt better; the way your fingers were stroking your clit or knowing that Joel was watching you, his dick probably rock solid in his jeans.

The idea of him being turned on was enough to have the pressure coiling inside your core, but you needed more. You ached to feel some sort of stretch, some semblance of fullness. You needed something inside of you, and if it couldn’t be Joel, you would do it yourself. Without a second thought you slipped two fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out.

A low grunt left Joel’s lips, and you could see one of his hands leave the steering wheel and fall into his lap as he adjusted himself through the denim holding back his growing erection.  

“That feel good sweetheart? Nice and slow like that?” His voice was strained, and his eyes were darting between the windshield and your reflection. 

“So good. Wish it was you instead.”

Oh that was it. He had officially lost it upon hearing those words. 

Shit, he wished he had taken you up on your offer to go back to his place. He also wished you hadn’t been drinking tonight. He reminded himself that although you claimed sobriety, he wouldn’t be able to live with it if he did something he couldn’t take back and you regretted it tomorrow.

So, for now, as deprived and questionably moral as it was, he would just let you finger yourself while he sat back and watched. You were an adult that could make your own decisions to possibly regret in the morning; and who was it hurting if he gave you a few words of encouragement? 

“I know baby, but just keep playin’ with yourself.” 

His voice was reinforcing your already overwhelming pleasure as you arched your fingers, hitting just the right spot. That familiar curl mixed with the featherlight touch still circling your clit had you bracing yourself for the orgasm that you knew would be hitting any minute.  

“Doin’ so good.” His voice was a whisper from the front seat and you could’ve sworn he was on the verge of whimpering. 

“Gonna make yourself come all over my backseat- shit.” He was mumbling out his words and you could practically hear the sexual frustration building within them. 

Both of you were losing control and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about your surroundings as Joel’s truck was coming to an abrupt stop. 

You were home.

He was careful to park on the curb a little further from his usual spot as he quickly took the keys out of the ignition and shut off his headlights. You had never been so thankful for the cover of nightfall and the invention of tinted windows. 

“C’mon baby show me how you come, wanna see it.”

Joel was now leaning his body over the console to face you. Finally getting to see you all spread open before his very eyes instead of a reflection. The bulge in his pants grew tenfold at the sight; Your dress was bunched at your waist, your cheeks hot and pink, your eyes were fighting to stay open, and your delicate little hands were working overtime between your legs. Watching you like that had Joel ready to finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

“Come back here.” You were all but begging through moans as you kept working to bring yourself to the edge of release.

You wanted him to join you, to use his fingers instead of yours, or his dick– you’d take whatever you could get right now, and you wanted it all. 

“No sweetheart, not tonight.” He was refusing your invitation, and your feelings might’ve been hurt if it weren’t for the way he reached out and placed his hand right above your knee.

He was spreading your legs further apart with his grasp on your leg and rubbing his thumb back and forth on your lower thigh. His gentle touch had you seeing stars.

“Let go baby.” His eyes were burning into you as he watched your fingers carefully curling at the knuckle with each thrust. Your moans were incoherent as the tension pulling inside your body threatened to snap. 

“I need it, show me.” 

Joel’s words were carrying you to the finish line as your chest heaved. 

“Give it to me sweetheart.” With his hand caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and his eyes watching your every move, you came apart for him. Profanities and moans spilled from your mouth as your release washed over you. 

You kept your eyes screwed shut for a few seconds as you forced yourself to take a handful of long deep breaths working your way down from your high. 

As soon as your eyes opened, you were met with Joel’s stare. His pupils were dilated and you could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as you raised your fingers to your lips.

If you were doing this, you were ending it with a bang. 

You opened your mouth just enough to slip your index and pointer finger inside, dramatically sucking them clean before pulling them back out.

“Fuck kid.” He groaned in defeat as his eyes remained glued on your perfectly pouted lips. 

“You better get inside.” He was breaking his trance on your mouth and turning back around to start his car back up like nothing ever happened.

“Are you serious?”

You were shocked at his ability to hold it together, knowing that his dick must be throbbing in his jeans at this point. You were more than happy to solve that problem if he’d just let you, but it seemed as though he was ready to kick you out of his tuck without so much as another glance in your direction.

“I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, can’t trust your decision-making skills.” 

“Oh, but you could watch me do that and it didn’t interfere with your moral compass?” 

“Go.” He was motioning you out of the car with a tilt of his head and you could read the painfully amused expression on his face through the rearview mirror– the very mirror that had just bared witness to the corrupt scene of you and Joel losing all self-control.

“Fine.” You were chuckling as you pulled your dress back down your thighs and scooting toward the exit, pulling the handle and plopping out onto the concrete street.

“Have a good night… blue balls.” You were standing outside the truck and forcefully shutting the door to his backseat. The last two words leaving your lips in a giggle as you waved goodbye to Joel. 

Joel just watched as you skipped up to your front door. He was in big trouble, huge fucking trouble. There was no way he’d be able to look at you again, let alone be in the same room as you.

After tonight, he wouldn't be able to trust himself around you. The next time your eyes met his he'd have no choice but to run his hands all over your perfect little body. 

And tomorrow was Sunday night football at your place.

He was screwed.

my masterlist

[chamomiletealeaf]

Just thinking about price with daddy kink, who didn’t mention it because he didn’t wanna scare you off yk? But then you call him daddy during adult sexy fun time. I’m sorry I’m a degenerate :(

The way this was asked 7 months ago omg I'm so sorry for how late this response is 😭 but I love this idea so much.

Warnings: daddy kink, dacryphilia, face slapping, dom! Price, sub! reader, slight mention of choking, finger sucking, mating press

Your knees were pressed to your chest, tears streaming down your cheeks from pleasure while Price fucked you into next year. The perks of being with an older man was that he knew how to fuck and how to do it well. He knew everything you liked and just how to do it. You however, thought you knew everything he liked: watching you cry tears of pleasure, watching you squirt, choking you, eating you out, giving you the best aftercare, etc. But he hid the BIGGEST daddy kink from you.

He didn't think you would be into it since you never mentioned it, so he never brought it up. When he was deployed he would jerk off to the thought of you calling him daddy while he gripped your jaw and told you how well you were taking daddy's cock.

But he had you here now, under him folded in half. Your cheeks wet and hot with tears and from being slapped by John when you didn't beg loud enough for him to hear.

"C'mon louder sweetheart, beg for it, beg me to make you cum." He cooed at you, hand returning to grip your jaw after giving your cheek a slap.

You were so cock drunk and needy to cum you didn't even think before you babbled.

"Please daddy, fuck me." You pleaded and whined, not realizing what you said until John abruptly halted his movements with a growl. Something snapped in him finally hearing you say what he's always wanted to hear.

He maneuvered you so your legs hooked around his thighs as he moved up onto his knees and pressed his weight down on you, moving you into a mating press. He leaned down into your ear to whisper to you, one hand on the headboard and the other around you jaw before pounding you so good you saw stars.

"Say that again." He growled even deeper and grittier this time, making your pussy clench and flutter around him.

"D-daddy- please- fuck me" You whimpered.

"Fuckkk" was all he said before picking up his pace, hand never leaving your jaw. He placed his forehead against yours and muttered out mindless phrases to you as the headboard banged against the wall.

"Cum for me sweetheart. Cum for daddy. Been dying to hear you say that for so long. Such a good girl listening to daddy so well. Cunt's fluttering nice and pretty around my cock. Gonna cum so deep in you like you deserve. Daddy's gonna make you cum so fuckin' good darlin'. Open your mouth, want you to cum sucking on daddy's fingers."

You opened your mouth, vision blurry from all the tears spilling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

"Yeah that's it, go on cum for me baby, thaaat's it, ooh fuck that's a good one I can feel you pulsing around me so good. Yeah look at me sweetheart. Nod your head for me like this. Oooh yeah that's it darling. Aww look so pretty cryin' for daddy." He says condescendingly, laughing breathily while simultaneously mocking and praising you through your orgasm.

"Fuck gonna cum. Cunt's fuckin' squeezing me." He grunts.

"Cum in me daddy." You moan, and that's all it took.

He moans loudly while he empties himself into you, making you whine from overstimulation from the feeling of his cum and his throbbing cock inside you.

"Fuck sweetheart. C'mere." He says before kissing you sweetly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You ask.

"Tell you what doll?" He responds.

"That you wanted me to call you daddy." You say with a shy giggle.

"Oh- I just- didn't think you'd be into it." He said with a laugh.

You lean in to kiss him again.

"John I've been holding it back thinking you wouldn't be into it."

"Well then darlin' we need to work on communicating better." He says with a laugh before snuggling you to sleep.

[goatgoesmbe]

So about that post of Simons gf that's super kind. what if she's petty with her kindness. one time me and my mom got in fight and that same day she complained about how many house plants she had. so i bought her a miniature rose bush (roses being a hard plant to take care of) as make up gift. I've also made other people their coffee wrong, bought unbalanced pens, gave there cats cat nip, given their children obnoxiously loud toys, etc.

Tw : reader is morally questionable, mention of assault

OOOH ANON, I LOVE THISS-

Like- just because reader is sweet, that doesn't mean being a pushover. You have class, and your own way of handling assholes properly.

I imagine Simon would think he needed to be the one who protect you, seeing you're all sunshine and rainbow, always so nice and kind- and he just didn't want anyone to take advantage of you, you know?

But then he realized that you're actually not a damsel in distress.

The first time he saw it, was at a neighbor's baby shower..

"You've been with him for what? 3 years now- and still no ring?" Simon glanced at you who simply smiled in response.

He recognized that voice, Stella was her name or something. She was one of those people who always wanted attention, bragging about every little thing while also dragging people down just so she could feel better about herself.

Simon had to hold back from rolling his eyes when she previously arrived. Wearing matching designer clothes with her five-year-old son, Aiden. Which was a waste of money in his opinion, the little fella will grow out of them in a short time after all.

"I mean.. come on, you're not getting any younger.. better make it official soon before you get expired- he might not be attracted to you anymore then" Before you could respond to the previous jab, Stella continued talking. You could see why she would ask something like that, it was just how she was like after all. You and Simon have reasons, but it was really none of her business. And you couldn't exactly explain to her that your boyfriend is legally dead so you couldn't marry him properly.

Simon wasn't even listening to the other lads around him anymore- not that he did in the first place. Looking at you directly from his spot, he observed the others who interact with you. You were surrounded by the other moms from the neighborhood, yet none of them said anything against Stella.

He saw you giggled and brushed off Stella's words way too casually like it didn't affect you, or maybe you didn't get that she was mocking you- Simon wasn't sure.

"It's time to go, luv" His gruff voice stopped their conversation as he approached you. He could feel their eyes on him, some of them not hiding the fact that they found him attractive from how they looked up at him with a slight flush on their cheeks. He wondered how you were comfortable being around them at all, he never spent more than a few words with them and already felt like committing murder.

Well.. whatever, you won't be meeting them again soon since you two were planning to move away.

You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and pouted "But-". "It's late" he added, putting his hand on your hip and pulling you close to make a statement at the others who still shamelessly gawked at him.

Seeing that look in his eyes- the one that means he accepted no rejection, you sighed. "Alright, let me say my goodbye" You said before turning back to them.

Simon simply grunted and waited. And when he thought you were ready to go, he raised an eyebrow when you instead walked over to the kids who were busy playing. You told them about you moving out from the neighborhood and the kids didn't seem to like that, you were their favorite after all.

"I have something for you guys to remember me by.." You chirped. Immediately, the kids looked at you with eagerness as you rummaged through your tote bag.

The side of his lips lifted under his mask when he saw you pulling out mini harmonicas. Before you could say anything more, a brat snatched one out of your hands. That was Aiden, Stella's spoiled boy. Which means it would be hard for the mom to get the noisy thing from him.

A cute little giggle escaped your lips as you watched the boy immediately blew on the harmonica messily, spraying spit everywhere.

After you made sure every kids got one, you stood up and hold his hand before skipping away with him in tow. Cacophony of moms frustrated yelling, children's laugh, and loud harmonicas left behind.

So you had planned your revenge all along, huh? Seems like you're not a total angel like he thought you were.

...

The second time is when he visited you at work. While he provided you enough for you to stay home and do nothing, you still insisted on having your own cafe. Saying that it had been your dream since you were little. And how can he say no when you look at him with those puppy eyes?

And while you do have people working for you, you still helped around from time to time. "It's the best part about having a cafe" you said to him that one time.

He was sitting at a table close enough to observe you working in that cute little uniform you designed yourself for the cafe when a guy walked in. His appearance screamed 'douche', the kind of guy who would talk about how many body counts is too many for a woman in a podcast.

Despite that, you greeted him cheerfully like you do with every other costumers. Even when he told you to write 'daddy' on the cup after you asked for a name, a disgusting smirk on his lips.

Meaning you would need to yell out that word to call for him when the order was ready.

And while Simon was fuming inside, you were calm. Humming along with the music playing from the speaker as you prepared the coffee.

But, instead of calling for the guy yourself, you turn to one of your employees. His name was Shane, written on the name tag clipped to his uniform. He was a big guy, not any taller than your boyfriend but still. A simple man who will be pleased spending the night scarfing down pizzas and beers. Now, Shane was known for many things, one of them is being very gay, and he was totally not shy about it.

You smiled before turning away to take the next order, but also secretly paying attention to what was going to happen next.

"Daddy..!" Shane shamelessly sing-sung the word loudly and even when Simon expected it already, he still choked on his tea. He also saw you biting down your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

Shane went on for a while until the whole cafe fell silent except for the music playing that didn't fit the situation at all, which made it more hilarious.

'Daddy' finally walked over to get his order. Red in the face and looking very pissed. He was not stupid enough to cause a scene however, and simply accepted his cup without so much as a thank you. And of course Shane added the cherry on top by throwing a flirty wink.

And when you noticed the way he glanced at you after taking a sip of his coffee, tasting regular milk instead of almond- knowing full well he told you before that he was lactose intolerant. You simply gave him that sweet smile of yours, a cheerful "Thank you, please come back again..!" Thrown his way like how it always is whenever a costumer was leaving.

Simon chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Feeling proud (and maybe a bit scared) of his pretty bird being cruel in her own ways.

So when he saw you sighing after an argument on the phone with your mom, he didn't question it when you went ahead and buy a make up gift for her.

[gpcwsl]

Lia wälti x reader where reader comes down with food poisoning and is beyond sick but still insisting she can go to training after spending their day off and the whole night being sick. Lia looks after her and tells her that she is not training she needs to rest

Lia Wälti x Reader

- I’ll be fine -

WC: 713

MasterList

Warnings: short, sick?

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring and immediately regret it. The moment you move, your stomach churns violently, a fresh wave of nausea washing over you. You groan, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes in an attempt to will it all away.

You’ve been like this since yesterday—your one day off, ruined by what you’re now certain was a bad meal. The day had started fine, but by the afternoon, you were battling stomach cramps, and by the evening, it was a full-blown war. A sleepless night followed, leaving you shaky, exhausted, and feeling like you’d been run over by a truck.

Still, it’s training day, and you’re convinced you can power through it.

You manage to sit up in bed, though it takes far more effort than it should. Your head feels heavy, your limbs even more so, but you start to shuffle toward the bathroom to splash some water on your face.

That’s when Lia appears in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between concern and disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to get up right now?” she asks, her Swiss accent soft yet pointed.

You freeze, mid-step, and try to muster up a nonchalant tone. “I’m fine, Lia. Just… a little tired, that’s all.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve been throwing up all night. You barely slept. And now you think you’re going to training?”

You sigh, leaning against the doorframe for support. “I have to go. Jonas will kill me if I don’t show up.”

“Jonas will understand,” Lia counters, stepping closer to place a gentle but firm hand on your arm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state.”

“I can do it,” you protest weakly, though even you don’t believe it at this point.

Lia shakes her head, her expression softening as she guides you back toward the bed. “No, you can’t. And you don’t have to.”

You’re too tired to argue further, allowing her to help you sit down. Your body sinks into the mattress, relief flooding through you despite your stubbornness.

“I’ll be fine,” you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction.

Lia crouches in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “You’re not fine,” she says gently. “And it’s okay to admit that. No one expects you to push through when you’re this sick.”

You glance down at her, guilt creeping in. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

Her expression softens even more, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re not letting anyone down by taking care of yourself. In fact, you’ll be letting the team down if you push yourself too hard and end up even worse.”

She’s right, of course, but it’s hard for you to let go of the guilt. You sigh, leaning your head back against the headboard. “I hate being sick.”

“I know,” Lia says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But that’s why I’m here—to make sure you rest, even if I have to fight you on it.”

True to her word, Lia spends the entire day looking after you. She brings you tea and dry crackers, though you can barely stomach either. She adjusts the pillows behind your back when you’re lying down and puts a cool cloth on your forehead when you complain about feeling too warm.

At one point, you manage to fall into a restless sleep, only to wake up to the sound of her soft humming. She’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, reading a book, but her attention shifts to you the moment your eyes flutter open.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, setting the book aside.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” you admit, your voice hoarse.

Her lips twitch into a small, sympathetic smile. “Sounds about right. But you’re not getting up until you’re better, understood?”

You nod reluctantly, too tired to argue anymore. “Thanks, Lia. For… all of this.”

She reaches over to squeeze your hand. “Always. Now, get some rest. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

And with her by your side, you finally feel like you can let go of the guilt and focus on getting better.

[ohimsummer]

more puppyboy!satoru pls !! 🛐

— minors dni, fwb au <<33, crack, jealous! puppyboy! satoru 🫣

it’s the ass-crack of morning—the sun isn���t even out yet. despite a long night of faking orgasms, you’re exhausted. you’re trying to get your current hookup out the door, but he’s too busy hunting for the shirt he left the other night.

“it’s a red sweatshirt.”, he says. whats-his-face. “i know i left it here.”

with his measly performance last night, he’s far past overstaying his welcome, and also ruining your beauty sleep. a crime that will be met with the fullest extent of your sass.

“evidently you didn’t or you would’ve found it by now.”, you mumble, turning over to pull the sheets over your head.

“can you help me look?”, he sighs.

“i’ll look later, just go ahead.”

you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “look, i really don’t have time to—“

“if you didn’t have time then you’d be gone by now and not still looking around for a shirt.”, you snap at him from underneath the covers. “if it’s here somewhere then it’ll still be here when i get up.”

there’s silence, and then you hear him storm out the room, slamming the door on his way out. it just makes you giggle before you nod back off to sleep.

when you finally wake up a few hours later, you find a set of strong arms wrapped around your middle and a larger body coiled around you.

“good morning, ‘toru.”, you mumble gently, reaching back to thread through the messy locks of his hair.

you can feel his ears twitch even in his drowsy state, before shuddering as his warm tongue meets the back of your neck. “good morning, i missed you.”

so clingy, and so cute. you know he crept into your room minutes after your fling left, as he usually does because he hates sleeping away from you.

satoru makes it difficult to get out of bed, but with the promise of kisses and breakfast, he allows you freedom from the sheets. by that time, you’ve long forgotten about searching for the sweatshirt, instead basking in the warm heat of his embrace. his body molds against yours. satoru keeps his arms caged around your waist to sleepily waddle behind you and join you in your morning routine.

you’re more alert after washing your face and such, so you now notice the spot of red in the hallway. picking it up, you realize it’s a piece of cloth, ripped and ragged at the edges from having been gnawed to shreds.

“satoru?”, you hold it up so he can see it better. “what is this?”

satoru barely glances at what’s in your hand, instead keen on snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. “dunno.”

he’s such a terrible liar. “…right.”

you stop by the kitchen to throw away the random cloth, only to be met with a pile of crimson already in the bin. it’s unnecessary to ask what it is. you recognize it by ripped pieces of the designer logo.

“satoru, what is all this?”, you ask him again, slightly more urgent. “why did you do this?”

when satoru doesn’t answer, you pull out of his grasp, turning to face him. you’re met with the guiltiest look he can muster—ears pulled back, head ducked, and eyes low to the floor as he nervously licks at his lips. despite all that, his lips still poke out in a pout, clearly upset about something.

“it smells like you” is the only explanation satoru provides.

“so?”, you respond.

silence, and then, “i don’t like that guy.” another beat. “i don’t like that your scent is on his clothes.”

with that statement, the pieces fall into place. you just give a sigh, tossing the last shred of fabric in with the others and pulling your pouty puppy to lay his head against your chest.

“you don’t have to be jealous, you big baby. you’re way better than him.”

“i know i’m way better, he can’t even make you cum.”

you chuckle. “what, were you listening to us last night?”

“…”

🐶: @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @snowsilver2000 @spicana @fvsm4x @washeduphasbeen @eveisred @winniethepooh-lover @hiraethwrote @mwuffyy @moncher-ire @yujis-world-jjk k @sa1ntn3k0 @sukunasdeliciousandverybigback @lashaemorow @iminlovewqr0w @mjsjshhd @sugoroo @incognito-veritas @sleepingtilwinter @lunni-e @toadtoru @tuesday-bloo @kiotty @sugojosgf @tamaki-jiki @drop-dead-karma @urgodmoon @miya4life @shunfrr @lennyknnm @wipped-cream @zombiicakezz @bootybutt301 @jessica120120 @orrbii @iilluummiii @notdwenby @homeslices @ayatons @ami20019 @shauntie14-blog @sillybillylamb @cremecheesecak3 @dark-romance-core @brunettecore @valentxi @chitcnn @sxnkuna @percydoll @pr1ncessa @baomin @iamcherryblossomsbitch @reiluvr @enyathdrakaina @cypherluv @lapinaenmicoche @vieviesmt @eclecticfirewitch @nutmilky

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey’s reaction to the pro bowl content? 👀👀

This is a little sneak peak into her and Taylor Rooks Podcast The Woman Cave

You and Taylor were sitting across from one another filming yet another episode for the podcast you both share when the conversation started going into the direction of the pro bowl and she quickly asked you about your husband.

“I see your other half actually went to the pro bowl this year? And participated!?” Taylor said as if she was surprised.

Because she low key knew how he was.

“Yes, he actually went but it did take a lot of convincing. He changed his mind about fifty times. After the season ends, that man stays up under me. Not that I mind, but I'm convinced if he could find a way to actually attach himself to me or crawl into my skin, he would.” You told her as you laughed when you thought about how Joe barely let you do anything by yourself when you both were home.

“And apparently doesn't like mascots?”

With this came the most intense eye roll followed by you shaking your head.

“He is literally such a diva and so dramatic. And he is definitely going to get me for saying that, but Wifey Shiesty said what she said. When I heard his mic’d up clip saying that he tells the Bengals mascot to get away from him, I lost it.”

“That actually doesn't surprise me. But it seemed like he didn't get a lot of time for his portion in the skills part on Thursday.”

“That's why I should have done the trivia because I knew every single answer and he would have won. No shade to Jared obviously. But Ja'Marr always would laugh at me and say that I know his playbook better than he did as well as players stats across every team in the NFL and I still do.”

“Which a lot of people tend to be surprised by.”

“I think that people don't realize that more women actually watch football than men do and we actually know what we're talking about. Some of them are intimidated because we end up knowing more than they do.” You told her and she quickly nodded as she agreed with you.

“Did his answer change once he knew your twin was going?”

You couldn't help but to roll your eyes and smirk.

“Of course it did. Those two together usually send my stress levels through the roof. But they look out for one another and have done that since they were both at LSU and I know it's going to always be that way. I'm definitely grateful for that.”

As soon as the last word left your mouth, you let out a yelp from being startled by Joe's arms wrapping around you, picking you up and him sitting down where you were while placing you onto his lap. His hands protectively went over your baby bump and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“Hello to you too, husband. Aren't you supposed to be with my twin and Justin!? See what I mean Tay?” You said as Taylor was laughing at the two of you.

“I heard you were talking about me so I figured that I should come pay a visit.” Joe told the both of you as Taylor smiled at him.

“Well, while I have you here….” She started to say as Joe nodded.

“You're my favorite interviewer besides this one right here so go for it.”

“How would you describe your feelings about this season overall?”

“Hmm, speaking from an individual standpoint, I'm happy with the numbers that I put up this year coming back from an injury. Overall, it's disappointing that we didn't make the playoffs but just have to do certain things to keep certain people and I know the front office will make that happen so we can all continue to play together.”

“Yes, put the pressure on them. Now, I remember when you signed your record breaking contract. Are you willing to negotiate in order to keep certain people in Cincinnati?”

“Absolutely without a doubt. Might have to pick up a part time job to make up the difference because my wife is expensive though. You two hiring?”

“Just for THAT comment, absolutely NOT. Your resume is going in the trash. And it's called The Woman Cave, not The Woman Cave plus Joe Burrow.” You told him as you pouted and crossed your arms across your chest.

“And you call me the dramatic one?” Joe asked and you tried to scoot away from him, but failed miserably.

“Ever since I met the two of you, I knew that you were made for each other. Now let me ask you this, NFL Honors?”

“I know I'm not winning MVP…”

“But he's definitely MVP in my eyes.”

Joe had a small smile on his face before continuing.

“But I'll still go and show my face. Always love going down there. It's like a family reunion with my LSU family and with my wife's family.”

“And who are you predicting will win the big game on Sunday?”

“I hope they both lose. But if I HAD to pick, definitely going with Jalen.”

“NOT you saying you hope they both lose. Babe, it doesn't work like that.” You told him as he shrugged.

“I'm using one of your lines, I said what I said.”

“You've definitely been around me too long.”

[littelovelunette]

age gap relationship reader x sevika, whereas reader is at her parents and they would never approve her relationship so they sneak off to each others houses and just fuck. it’s more sexy when sevika goes to readers house secretly and even tho reader doesn’t wanna admit it and she’s scared they might get caught by her parents lol

Only If They Knew

Contains smut, mentions of parental abuse, gambling, nipple play, fingering, gagging, implications of getting caught

As you walk into your room, you call Sevika. You had just finished your class and you were exhausted but wanted to check up on your girlfriend.

When she picked up, due to the dimmed lights around her, you could tell she was probably at a bar, gambling and effortlessly winning.

"Hey, babydoll, how was class?" Sevika asked, propping her phone so she could continue playing her game, she didn't mind talking to you over the phone while she was doing anything really.

Even if her social image was super important to her and always had been, she could never deny the thought of spending time with you even if it was through a measly screen and WiFi.

"Not too well, my mocks are coming up and I'm barely done with the whole syllabus," you said, letting your hair down from your claw clip ponytail, the silky locks cascading down your face, framing it and giving you a much softer look now.

"Mhm? Is that so?" Sevika hummed as she used her hand to pull the chips towards her already stacking pile of chips, "Hmmm, well, maybe you should study now then."

You sighed and shook your head, "Not so easy, Sev," You propped your head up using one hand and sighed, "It's almost impossible with all the sexual frustration pent up in my body."

"Is it now?" Sevika asked, her voice now an octave lower, she didn't care if the men playing Poker with her heard. She took a sip of her drink and glanced at the phone screen.

"Mhm, last time I touched myself was like... Weeks ago and you punished me for it at your place so I won't really, y'know, repeat," you said, sighing and tilting your head a little.

You watched her play in comfortable silence before reaching out and turning the switch off so the only light illuminating your face was the table lamp and your phone's screen brightness.

"You should sleep, love. Have you eaten?" Sevika asked.

"Yeah, I ate out with a few friends," you answered before questioning back, "Have you eaten?"

"Nah, how can I? You're all the way there at your parents'," she let that sink in for a while before chuckling and shaking her head, "I did, don't worry, bunny, go sleep now."

"I wish you were here so we could spoon and all," you sighed a little, pouting your bottom lip out like an offended child.

Sevika found you absolutely adorable and a little annoying but not in a negative way. You were 21 and she was 41, not the most ideal age gap, but it was definitely something your parents would slap you silly for.

But oh would it be so cozy being curled up in those juicy biceps of Sevika's and being awoken with kisses to the forehead, tender and loving as ever. Someone as experienced as Sevika would do anything to please you. Just thinking of it made you all giddy.

"I wish that too, doll," she exhaled the smoke from her nostrils, "Wanna come to mine tomorrow after your class ends?"

"I wish, I can't, I need to use the break to get some revision in," you said with a shake of your head in pure disappointment, pulling your fuzzy blankets over your head, "I'll just sleep now then, I guess."

You seemed sad and Sevika didn't let that just slide past her.

She noticed.

With the amount of women she'd dated before she knew how to understand when women masked their true feelings and knew better than to blatantly ask "What's wrong? You seem upset." When she was clearly aware of what made you upset.

"Goodnight, love," Sevika said letting you hang up first after you both exchanged I love you's and she finished her game.

By the time she finished it was 1 AM, she started walking towards your house, nothing really going through her mind.

Despite the more rational part of hers telling her to turn and walk back to her own house, she didn't let herself act on logic, only instinct.

Climbing the wall with ease, she reached your window, which was a bit open already for ventilation. Sevika climbed in, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud.

Sevika inched closer to your floral duvet, grabbing the edge slowly and lifting it to see your sleeping figure. "My princess," she whispered under her breath and slowly clicked the lock of your room so your parents couldn't barge inside.

Sevika pulled the duvet down so she could see your figure properly, feeling the wetness dripping and soaking her shorts.

She leaned in, lips slowly grazing yours as her hands held your boobs in her big palms, squeezing them and rolling your nipples over your thin nightdress.

"M-mmmph..." As you stirred and slowly woke up, Sevika let out a little grin followed by a soft chuckle.

"Stay quiet, yeah?" Sevika whispered and you nodded before letting out a shuddering breath.

"Oh, Sevika, I can't, it feels too good," you whimpered and she sighed, letting your panties slip down your legs slowly, she clumped it in a ball and stuffed it in your mouth.

"Mm.." you whimpered lowly, trembling as her expert hands trailed down your body, stopping you squeeze at your curves.

Her hands trailed back up so she could pinch and pull at your nipples, rolling them, your nipples felt swollen after being pinched so hard. Your hips thrusted up in a gesture of getting more friction down there, too but Sevika dismissed it.

The need for having something lodged deep in your hole grew with passing time, much to Sevika's dismay anyway, she liked playing with you and pushing you to the edge before she absolutely destroyed your body.

However, today she was being surprisingly gentle, maybe simply because she didn't want you letting out filthy pornographical screams and moans for your parents to hear.

Sevika lined two thick fingers over your slit, arousal dropping out from anticipation, "You ready for the fun, bunny?"

You could only nod as you moaned loudly into the makeshift gag, digits sinking deep into your cunt as wetness gushed out coating them.

Her fingers felt so thick, stretching your hole out after weeks of punishment for touching yourself without her punishment.

You loved this woman unconditionally and endlessly, she was good at whatever she did. Especially good at sex from her history of daily brothel visits.

Your hole clenched almost desperately at the feel of her thick fingers so deep in you, it felt like reality and pleasure blurred into a thin line but you had to ground yourself or your parents would hear the sounds.

If only they knew their good, obedient daughter who they wished would become either a doctor or a lawyer some day was here, in their house, under their roof, getting roughed up and fucked up by a woman just about twice her age.

You lolled your head to the side, drooling all over the fabric in your mouth, almost tasting yourself faintly due to your vaginal discharge still sticking onto the cotton, as Sevika rubbed tight circles around your clit, making you see stars.

Eyes rolled back into your head as she gave one final thrust, twisting her fingers at a blissful angle and you squirted all over the sheets, blankets and her hand.

"Oopsie daisy," Sevika raised a brow, rubbing your pussy up and down slowly, "You wet the bed, love," her soft voice made you flush in shame and you let out a muffled whine.

Sevika took your soiled panties out of your mouth tutting a little at how jelly-like your legs had gotten from one measly orgasm.

Despite all that and her mocking, she helped you get changed into fresh clothes after washing your body tenderly.

While you were in the bathroom peeing, Sevika had taken it upon herself to change the sheets of her bed and replace the duvet. You loved this woman to all your heart's content and beyond.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Full-Court Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: they make time they always do

Valentine’s Day as a college athlete is a tricky thing.

Between practices, classes, and upcoming games, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone plan something romantic. And this year? It was even worse.

We had the biggest game of the season against South Carolina on the 16th, which meant Coach had us locked into an intense practice schedule. No distractions. No excuses.

But when you’re dating both Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd?

You make time. They make time.

The first sign that Paige and Azzi were up to something came when I walked into the locker room after practice and found a red envelope sitting on top of my bag.

I glanced around, but everyone else was either showering or changing, too focused on their own post-practice routines to notice.

Curious, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a simple note, written in Azzi’s neat handwriting:

“Meet us in the film room. Don’t be late. ❤️”

I raised an eyebrow, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

Whatever they had planned, I already knew it was going to be good.

By the time I got to the film room, I could hear Paige’s laughter through the door.

I pushed it open to find her and Azzi standing in front of the projector screen, which was now displaying a homemade PowerPoint slide that read:

“WHY YOU SHOULD BE OUR VALENTINE”

I blinked. “You made a PowerPoint?”

Paige grinned. “You know I love a good presentation.”

Azzi nodded, holding up a remote. “We have five slides prepared.”

I crossed my arms, biting back a laugh. “This is so unserious.”

Paige smirked. “Just sit down and watch, babe.”

I sighed dramatically but took a seat. “Fine. Impress me.”

Azzi clicked to the next slide, which had a picture of me in my UConn jersey mid-game, looking absolutely locked in. Underneath it, the text read:

“Reason #1: You’re the best player on the team (don’t tell Coach we said that).”

I snorted. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Next slide, Z.”

The next one showed a candid photo of the three of us from last semester, curled up together on the couch, half-asleep during a movie night.

“Reason #2: You make every moment better.”

I felt my heart squeeze a little.

Azzi glanced at me, a small smile on her face. “It’s true. Even when we’re exhausted, just being with you makes everything feel easier.”

Paige nudged her. “Damn, getting sentimental already?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Y’all are actually kinda cute.”

Paige winked. “Just wait.”

The next slide had a picture of me standing between them after a game, arms around their shoulders, all three of us grinning.

“Reason #3: We love you, duh.”

I exhaled softly, warmth spreading through my chest.

Paige leaned against the desk. “We know the timing sucks this year with the South Carolina game coming up, but we didn’t want today to just feel like any other day.”

Azzi nodded. “So, will you be our Valentine?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “Like I’d ever say no to you two.”

Paige grinned. “Good answer.”

Azzi smirked. “We also have dinner plans.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Coach explicitly said no distractions—”

Paige waved a hand. “Coach didn’t say we couldn’t eat dinner.”

Azzi nodded. “And we already cleared it with the team. A bunch of them are doing their own little date nights before we go full lock-in mode tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing up. “Y’all really thought of everything, huh?”

Paige smirked. “Always.”

Azzi grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s a surprise.”

They took me to a small, cozy Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes off campus, one of those places you’d never notice unless you were looking for it.

The second we walked in, I realized Paige and Azzi had really planned ahead—the restaurant had a private table set up in the back, complete with dim lighting and a tiny vase of roses in the center.

I turned to them, impressed. “Okay, I was expecting something chill, but y’all actually went all out.”

Paige grinned, pulling out a chair for me. “Only the best for our girl.”

Azzi sat down across from me, smiling softly. “We figured we wouldn’t get much alone time after today, so we wanted to make this one count.”

I glanced between them, warmth pooling in my chest. “I love you two, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “We do now.”

Azzi reached across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. “Love you too.”

Paige nodded, grabbing my other hand. “Love you more.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘who loves who more’ thing at this table.”

Azzi smirked. “That sounds like something someone losing would say.”

Paige cackled. “OHH, she got you.”

I groaned. “Y’all are literally the worst.”

Paige winked. “And you love it.”

Unfortunately for me, she wasn’t wrong.

After dinner, we walked back to the car, hands intertwined as the cold February air nipped at our skin.

Paige nudged me playfully. “So, did we do okay?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay? Y’all actually managed to surprise me. That’s a first.”

Azzi grinned. “That was the goal.”

I looked between them, my heart feeling way too full. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Paige smirked. “Just wait until next year.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re only getting started.”

And knowing them?

I believed it.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[makethemhoesmad]

Souls Aren’t Supposed to Attract on Accident

“I was never the villain. You just chose to believe your hero.” -Azzi Fudd

Read Azzi Fudd’s Long Awaited Interview here:

Interviewer(I): So, Azzi, as I’ve heard, this is quite the long story. Any specific place you’d like to start?

Azzi(A): I’d like to start at the beginning of the end. 2025-2026 college season

I: Alright, let’s start there.

A: Well, obviously I wanna clarify the rumors first. Yes, Paige and I dated from 2021 all the way up until April of 2026. That’s right, ladies. Your heartbroken star dumped me right after I’d won a second championship, and right before my rookie season.

~

“Aren’t you so proud of me, baby?” Azzi asks, gleefully dancing around in championship confetti.

“Yeah, babe, mhm. Listen, Az, can we talk?” Paige asks, placing her hands on Azzi’s shoulders to still her. 

“What’s up?” Azzi questions. She knows what’s coming, obviously. She just really doesn’t want it to happen the same night she’s just won her second natty in a row.

“I just don’t think it’s gonna work between us, y’know? Especially when we’re in the W and playing against each other so much. Right?” Azzi hates the way she words it like she’s fucking stupid, like she’s slow in the head. 

“Let’s just talk about this later, Paige. I want to enjoy this.”

~

I: Do you believe that breakup impacted your rookie season play at all?

A: If it did, it was only for the better.

~

“Do you really fucking hate yourself that much?” Azzi nearly shouts. Paige backs away, hands up as if she’s calming an animal, as though she hasn’t just rationalized a breakup being because of competition. They’ve been competing for years now. Is Paige just afraid Azzi will win?

“Are you really so mad I won that you’re going to end what we have? You’re never getting something like this again, Paige!” Still, Paige stands, stoic. Azzi grunts, frustrated, turning on her heel to leave.

“Your loss, Bueckers,” she calls over her shoulder. 

As she leaves the hotel she now knows why Paige insisted on booking, she vows that no matter what Paige does, she will always, always have to be second to Azzi.

~

A: Back to my last season of college. Obviously, Paige and I had just started the whole ‘long distance’ thing. It wasn’t too awful, because her season ended right when mine started, so we had time for each other. Sort of, at least. We fought quite a bit during that last season for me.

I: What changed when you went to the W, considering that the Valkyries and Sparks are much closer?

A: Part of it, I think, was Paige’s ego. She’s supposed to be this huge UCONN star, and in her five years there, she only won the natty once. When I did it twice, it pissed her off.

I: So you don’t believe distance played a part in it?

A: No. I think we could have easily made it through the physical separation, if Paige weren’t so damn jealous.

~

“Good game tonight, Paige.” Azzi says respectfully in the handshake line, nodding at her former teammate and love. Paige only grunts in response, refusing to meet her eyes.

~

I: So, 2026, your first meeting with the Sparks, and your team wins. In the post-game press conference, reporters ask Paige how she feels about your success as a rookie, and she declines to comment. Was this significant to you?

A: No. She didn’t want to say that I was having a good season, because my rookie season was going better than hers did. It would have been like telling herself I was better, and that would have torn her apart.

I: Right, because Paige didn’t win Rookie of the Year in 2025. Sonia Citron of the Indiana Fever did, because they were the WNBA champions that year. 

A: Exactly. I was already on course for Rookie of the Year at that point, but the previous year, all eyes had been turned to Olivia and Sonia.

I: And then, of course, we can’t talk about your first WNBA game against Paige without bringing up what fans dubbed the “repost war” started by current Washington Mystic KK Arnold and Ice Brady of the Seattle Storm.

A: Yeah, my old teammates reposting about being children of divorce. To be honest, I wasn’t all that fazed by it. I know Paige went off on KK for it once, but I genuinely didn’t give a fuck.

~

“Azzi, I wish you could still call Paige off like a dog,” KK laments, flashing her phone screen at Azzi. 

“Damn, all that for a repost about being a child of divorce?” Azzi says, squinting to read the string of profanity Paige had texted her former teammate. 

“Yeah, she’s gone off the deep end. Someone’s gotta help her.” 

“Well, it’s never gonna be me.”

~

I: And then nothing really happened at all, right? Not until 2028?

A: I mean, not to the public.

I: What do you mean by that? Anything to do with the 2027 news article titled “Paige Bueckers Spotted Outside of Valkyries Hotel”? 

~

“Azzi, you don’t know what you’re doing to me!” Paige screams, backing Azzi into the wall of her own hotel room.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, Paige? I don’t know that my rookie season was about a million times better than yours, and you’re too fucking weak minded to let me be happy about it?” Paige recoils at the defiance in her voice. She expected Azzi to balk at her fury, maybe try and lick her wounds. She never expected Azzi to fight her on it.

“That’s a lie and you know it. You know how the media spins things, Az. I just really fucking miss you. I’m going crazy without you, really.” Azzi scoffs when Paige kneels down in front of her, groveling like it would change her mind.

“Get up, Paige. And make sure you close the door when you leave.”

~

A: No, nothing about that. One of my teammates said they saw her in the lobby, but I never saw her.

I: Then the next year, you were both selected for the 2028 Olympic team. 

A: The funny thing about that was, it didn’t even cross my mind that she was also on the team until we had the first meeting all together. I was just so over the moon about getting chosen.

I: Was there tension at said meetings?

A: Maybe some, but when we got onto the court it fizzled out because even after all that happened we still worked together really, really well.

I: Yes, and of course the infamous “Is Pazzi Back?” article.

A: I didn’t even read it. Sonia, who’s now my teammate, showed it to me, and I waved it off. Wasn’t too concerned.

~

“So,” Paige says, wiggling her eyebrows at Azzi as she thunks down onto the cardboard bed they’re given to prevent intercourse between athletes. “Is Pazzi really back?” 

Azzi snorts at the absurd suggestion, even if some small part of her heart is screaming for her to say yes and throw herself on top of Paige. “Yeah right. I mean, seriously? They create a rivalry between us since I get drafted and the second we’re back on the court they think we’re fucking again?” Her voice shakes ever so slightly when she says again, unnoticeable to anyone except for someone who knows her well, body and mind. Like Paige used to.

“No offense, but I think I’ll stick to teammates this time,” Azzi scoffs, pointing Paige out the door.

“Aw, baby, you want me to beg? I can beg, you know I’m good at it.” Paige kneels down in front of her, remembering the way she was in this position in front of Azzi in a hotel room, about a year ago. Azzi must be remembering too, because she kicks Paige in the side and strides out of her own room.

~

I: Some critics said that Olympic team was one of the best ever, but when they look to credit players, they mention the Citron-Fudd connection almost more than the Bueckers-Fudd connection.

A: Well, yeah, Soni and I play well together. We’ve proven that over and over on the Valkyries.

~

“I’m getting a call from a blocked number, what the fuck.” Azzi gripes, showing Sonia her phone. 

“Answer it, you only live once.”

Azzi slides the call to answer, then hits the speaker button.

“Azzi, I swear to God if you’re fuckin’ that straight bitch Citron you better just own up to it now,” a slurred, familiar voices crackles. Azzi’s eyebrows raise, but she’s spent some time around Paige Bueckers and alcohol, enough to know exactly what she sounds like when she’s drunk and jealous. Sonia looks insulted, but before she can say anything, Paige speaks again.

“She don’t even make as much money as you, Az, so I don’t know why you’re even goin’ for her. I bet she don’t make your pussy feel the way I made it feel, huh?”

“Paige, you’re drunk. Fucking go to bed and call again in the morning if you still care.” Azzi ends the call, immediately beginning to apologize to the very insulted Sonia on her couch. 

“I’m so sorry she said that shit, bro, sometimes she just calls and says that stuff.”

“And you let her? Girl, I don’t know how you don’t slap the shit out of her when we play.”

“Maybe next time I will, you know, ‘cause we’re buddies again.”

~

I: Then, July 2029 when Paige went onto a podcast for an interview, she told the camera “yeah, never date your teammate”

A: I watched that, and nodded along. She was right, it wasn’t really going to do much for our careers, though I guess neither of us realized that until later.

~

‘Never date your teammate’ huh? Is what Azzi types into Paige’s Instagram DMs at midnight after watching that podcast episode. 

“No way she doesn’t even fucking open it,” Azzi curses to herself. She’s mad, obviously because Paige mentioned her a frustrating amount of times in that interview, considering she has a girlfriend to go home to now. Yep, cute little LA up-and-coming actress. She’s 5’2 on a good day, and the sweetest little bitch you’ll ever meet. One time, she had the audacity to comment ‘you’re so gorgeous’ on Azzi’s Instagram post. But Azzi obviously doesn’t care

~

I: Basically radio silence from you for quite a bit after that season, no one saw you doing anything until you commented on a fellow Valkyrie’s post.

A: I took a long break from social media, because I felt like the toxicity of it was hurting more than it was helping anything. When I finally did come back, it was because I couldn’t resist supporting my long-time friend Kate Martin and her firstborn!

I: It was right into this past season then, right?

A: Absolutely, I’ve always had a very championship-based mindset. I want to be the best, and I want to do it well. Nothing really messes with my head during the season, I just get so driven.

~

Paige messages back three months later, with a snide comment about Azzi being easily distracted. Azzi doesn’t justify it with a response. Really, she looks down on three-months-ago Azzi. She’s matured a lot since then. She’s deleted every media outlet from her phone, gone ‘off the grid’, buried herself in workouts. She tells herself it’s because her team didn’t make it to the finals this year, and that she needs to. It helps her sleep at night. Sometimes.

~

I: And now here we are, where we can finally talk about this year’s riveting WNBA finals. Neck-and-neck until the end, with you putting up some of your best performances.

A: I love to win. Anyone who’s close to me knows that. It’s my number one source of dopamine.

I: So I bet a win like that, over a team like that, must’ve felt really, really good, right?

A: Oh, it felt like I was riding the world’s best high.

~

The handshake line of the seventh game is an emotional roller coaster every year, opposing players hugging each other, cheering, sobbing, confetti. Everything is going both 100 miles per hour and seems to stop at the same time. 

But when Azzi catches that brief glimpse of Paige, leaning down so, so low to hug her girlfriend, she knows the celebration won’t be what she remembers most. For just a moment, she lets a long-suppressed memory play, of the 2025 National Championship. When they were teammates, when they ran to each other, instead of barely grazing hands and inclining heads in the handshake line, as if they had never met.

~

I: And that brings us to right here, right now. What are your future plans? 

A: As everyone knows, the WNBA free agency trading period always gets intense. This year, my team is rebuilding and recreating, moving people around. While I will always love the Valkyries, I’m making a change. You’re looking at a member of the Los Angeles Sparks!

~

Azzi scrolls through DMs in the hours following her interview release. Some congratulatory, some spiteful, some simply conspiratorial. One name catches her eye, nearly lost in a sea of words.

paigebueckers: Welcome to LA, Az.

___________________________________________ taglist: @purple-paige-purple @overtimenatalie @fuddfanatic35 @azzilov @ldapper @forpsheturnpesbian @rhyxanwaters @bu3ckersgirl @rosemariiaa @paigebaby5 @tndaqlwifwy

[hoonquette]

these are the days, nishimura riki.

【 another night with your friendly neighborhood spider-man 】 fem ! r 𓈒 fluff college au spider-man!riki + 665wc ── incl. mentions of injuries unproofread writing.

it's been an entire month since you've gotten a full night's rest. granted, you should be used to it—college has definitely ruined your sleep schedule for the next four years—but you'd gotten at least three hours of sleep.

thanks to nishimura riki, your friendly neighborhood spider-man (more commonly known as your boyfriend), those three hours have been reduced to maybe one. since you've found out about his identity, you've spent most nights worrying about his wellbeing, other nights were spent patching him up and tending to his wounds.

tonight is one of those nights.

one of the nights where you rub ointment against his bruised and cut skin, a look of disapproval on your face. he's tried talking to you, but you didn't answer, not wanting to snap at him for being so.. impulsive.

when you're done, you sigh, closing up the first aid kit you'd bought after the second time he came through your window. he stares at you, his eyes apologetic and a small frown on his lips.

he had changed once you let him in, throwing off his mask, and changing into one of the pair of sweats he'd left here. he foregone a shirt—wanting you to see the bruise that'd no doubt be forming on his back after being slammed against a wall.

you nearly strangled him when he told you that.

you understand that this is his unofficial job, something that he enjoys, but it doesn't mean you have to like it. especially when he's not being as careful as you would like him to be.

"alright, fine." he starts, leaning back on your bed, "i'll stop going after the small guys."

"i'm not worried about the 'small guys', ki."

"car jackers can be dangerous. so can—" you interrupt, hitting him with a pillow. he rolls away and lets out a surprised yelp. from the edge of the bed, "you shouldn't hit your injured boyfriend."

"my boyfriend wouldn't be injured if he stopped being stupid."

"i'm a superhero; we're all stupid."

you glare at him and he relents, holding his hands up in surrender. "okay, i'll be more mindful of how hard i'm being hit from now on. good?"

"not good," you crawl over to him, laying next to his body, "but fine. just stop coming over when you look like you're about to pass out. go to an actual hospital."

he rolls over again, this time so that he's hovering above you. suddenly, it feels like you're the one with the concussion—no matter how long you're with him, you don't think you'll ever get used to the close proximity riki seems to crave—and you look away.

you can see him smile out of your peripheral, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "hey, look at me."

you debate not listening to him, but you know he won't speak again until you do, so you (hesitantly) look at him.

riki's smile brightens and he places a kiss on your nose, then on your cheek, forehead, and finally your lips. the kiss lasts for a fleeting moment, but it melts you all the same.

"i wanna be with you, though." he kisses you again, "want your face to be the last thing i see before i faint from exhaustion."

you can't help the giggles that escape, turning your head away from him and covering his mouth with your hand. "stop—don't say that."

"it's true." he pulls your hand from his mouth, but not before kissing it. "plus, i can't go to a hospital, dork."

"okay, okay, whatever. new rule: be better than the other superheros. be smart."

"that gave me chills. you should be a motivational speaker."

you shove him off of you, telling him yo be serious as you do so, and your boyfriend lets out a dramatic scream of so-called pain. when he's done with his mini-monologue about how mean of a girlfriend you are, he caresses your cheek.

"i'll be smarter, though, make you worry you less. promise."

ADRiANNA 🦷 hai :3 i needed a spiderman!riki fic in order to heal from Well idk most things

[urfavleo777]

warnings: smut, oral (f&m), language, fingering

Luigi helps his girlfriend relieve stress after a long day at college

You stumble into Luigi's dorm, your body heavy with the weight of the day. Uni is a nightmare, and you feel the tears threatening to spill any second. Your mind races, emotions all over the place. You just need to be somewhere safe.

Luigi is already sitting on his bed, flipping through a book, but when he sees your face, he immediately sets it aside. "Hey… what’s going on?" he asks, his voice soft with concern.

You don’t say anything at first, just wrap your arms around him tightly as if you're afraid to let go. You bury your face in his chest, your breath shaky as you fight back the tears. "I spend hours on studying and poring over books, but the next day I forget half of it. I’m so dumb.”

He sighs softly, his hands gently rub your back, pulling you closer. “What did I tell you about saying things like that?”

“To not to.” you mumble.

He laughs softly, “Well, yes. But it’s because you’re too hard on yourself. You were just explaining all of this to me yesterday.”

You cling to him a little tighter, trying to steady your breath. The warmth of his embrace is grounding, but the storm inside your head refuses to calm. "I know," you whisper, "but it feels like nothing's sinking in. Every day is just one more reminder that I'm not good enough."

Luigi pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft but firm. "Listen to me," he says gently. "You’re not dumb, okay? You’re working hard, and that means something. It’s not about remembering everything at once. It’s about the effort you put in, and you’re doing that." He pauses, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "If studying were easy, it wouldn’t be worth anything. You’re going through the struggle now so that it gets easier later."

You close your eyes, trying to let his words sink in, but the self-doubt still lingers. "I just don’t know how to keep going when I feel like I’m failing."

"My baby." You almost drift off when he calls you like this and places a kiss on your forehead. "Everyone has those moments. Hell, I have them too. But you’ve got to give yourself grace. You’re allowed to have tough days. Just don’t quit."

You inhale deeply, letting the comfort of his presence settle over you. "But what if I can’t do it? What if I keep forgetting everything?"

The despair in your voice makes his heart ache, and he pulls you back against his chest.

“Maybe you just need to approach it differently,” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Your whiteboard isn’t helping?”

“No,” you sigh, “I just keep looking at it and nothing really sticks.”

His hands move gently, tracing small circles on your back as he holds you close, as if trying to melt away some of the tension weighing on you. "It's okay," he murmurs, a cocky smile plays on his lips. "We'll come up with a better idea.”

You are too weary to read the ambiguity of Luigi’s words, so all you manage to do is just sigh and immerse yourself in his touch.

Luigi rolls you over and your lips are instantly on his as you lay a hand on his neck, “Or maybe it’s just stress and you need someone to help you relieve it?”

You gasp out, fingers lacing through his hair, “Lu,” you grind down onto him as you trail your kisses lower, down along the line of his jaw to his neck.

Luigi lifts his head just as you look down at him and you let out a moan, pulling him up for a long kiss. Your hand glides down his chest, your fingertips barely grazing the ridges of his abs, tracing slow, soothing patterns. Moans escape your lips and you tug on his hair, earning a groan from him. Your eyes bounce from his lips to his eyes, “Please.”

“So eager.”

Luigi’s fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. He rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.

“Baby, you're soaked through your panties..." He pants out.

Your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure.

Taking your moan as an invitation, Luigi carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. Then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart… feel good?” He croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.

Your legs are already shaking before he’s even started and it makes him smile against you, blowing on your cunt to see your cute reactions. He uses his pretty fingers to spread your hole open, licking at you so passionately it’s like he’s making out with your wet pussy.

His skilled tongue is nearly too much for you, making you grab at his hair and tug harshly but it just makes him moan, the vibrations causing you to lift your hips off the bed and Luigi has his eyes on you the whole time, peering up at you with his big, bambi eyes.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “Let me hear you. You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happens. You feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. Luigi continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure. The waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak.

"Did so well for me, baby," he coos, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips in an attempt to pull you back down to earth.

“Mhmm, Lu…”

“Yeah? What do you need?” He smirks.

Mind too preoccupied and taken up with thoughts of taking him down your throat. Thoughts you’d spent nearly a week daydreaming about. Maybe he was the reason why you could never concentrate on your studies. “I need you in my mouth please.”

“Is this what you want? Huh?” You nod your head in response, falling to your knees as your hand began to unbuckle his belt.

His swollen tip hits the back of your throat, the sudden sensation causing you to tense up and attempt to pull away. He was far too big to fit inside your tiny little mouth.

You gargle around his length, submitting to him completely, letting him use your mouth to get himself off. You reach one hand up, massaging his balls in your hand, kneading it in your palm, knowing exactly what it does to him.

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.”

His eyes shoot down to where you’re looking up at him with teary eyes, your mouth enveloping him fully, and then to where you're massaging his balls. This was definitely what he needed and deserved.

He lets out an involuntary groan. “Yeah, keep looking as you’re ruining me.”

You dig your nails into his thighs as he presses your head down hard enough to choke you of air. It doesn’t take him long before he comes with a loud groan, hips bucking without a pattern. You swallow it to the best of your ability, some leaking out and dripping down your chin. He lets out a satisfied hum, stretching out your arms in your direction. “Come here, nerd.”

You giggle, breaking the silence of the two of you heavy breathing. “Well, not quite a nerd.”

“Since I fucked some knowledge into you, yes you’re my favorite nerd.” He laughs while playing with your hands.

“Oh shut up.”

[alphajocklover]

So I’m at my best friend’s house and something weird happened. He just told me how much he knew I love muscular guys with strong facial hair and said he had a really early birthday gift. He took a selfie then took a picture of me and now, I feel all weird and foggy in my head. I think I can see his big fat…dick through his briefs. I rubbed my face and, do I have mutton chops growing in? I just, please help me I’m not sure what’s going on, I don’t think I like it

First off, I’d like to wish you a happy early birthday! Turning 22 isn’t the most exciting thing ever, certainly not as fun as turning 21, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it! And before you correct me and say that it's not your actual birthday yet, or that’s you’re not turning 22, let me just say this: give it a moment.

You feel that tingling across your body? The strange sensation that’s like a sunburn that somehow underneath got underneath your skin, or static electricity dancing across your muscles. That’s the app your friend downloaded doing its job. I’ve talked before about InstaJock, the app that turns people who use it into a jock, and how there seem to be people making knockoffs of it as well, but as the app has grown in popularity, some of the knockoffs have gained traction too. I’d even venture to call a few of them legitimate competitors. Most have done so by finding a gimmick and carving themselves out a place in the digital tf world. Fratbook, for example, is an app that works a lot like this InstaJock, except every more of a frat boy lean. SnapBack does internet fuckboys, Redsky does conservative men, etcetera. There are even some more far out ones, like Polygraph, which is kind of like Twitter (or X or whatever) except everything you post becomes true. But I’m getting way off track, we should get back to you.

I can’t be entirely sure what app your friend used on you, but I doubt the specifics matter anymore. By this point the burning in your muscles and the itch of hair growing across your face and body is unbearable, but it doesn’t remotely compare to the dull warmth that's spread through your head. You said that you didn’t think you liked the change at first, but right now it’s hard to think at all, especially with your friend's fat dick swinging in your face. You weren’t sure when he took out his cock, or when you got on your knees, but as the heat in your muscles calmed to a dull throb, and your new thick black hair has settled across your body, you find yourself just going with the flow. Why wouldn’t you bro? Everything just feels so fucking good!

Now I have good news, better news, and even better news! The good news is that whatever your friend has done is probably temporary. It was a gift after all, and he also transformed himself, so you’re probably both going to just enjoy being hairy hunks for a while. The better news is that you probably have a boyfriend now, if that's what you want. Your friend probably knew you would hook up, and this might have been your way of seeing if you’re also into him, while living out his fantasy. The better news is that, if you want, it doesn’t have to be temporary. Once you’ve turned back to normal, and you and your ‘best friend’ have had a little talk, reach out. If you guys want to spend more time in your dumb, beefy, hair forms, I might be able to help. ---------- Hey guys! So, I know most people skip over the little out of character updates I sometimes put at the bottom of my stories, but I'm hoping you guys take a second to look at this one because I have a bit of an announcement. I realized yesterday that on February 17th, in just five days, this blog will be a year old! I know I'm only just getting back into doing this, but I'm so proud that I've actually stuck with this for a full year! So I want to celebrate! So, I'm going to be temporarily reopening my ask for...

An Alphaversary QNA!

What makes this QNA special is that you won't just be asking me questions. You can ask a question to me, my character, or any of the characters I've written about in any of my stories! The answers will probably be shorter than my usual work, but will give you guys the chance to ask about anything thats confused you, dig deeper into the world building, or even check up on a character or concept that you're curious about. This will go until February 24th, the day I posted my first original story! Don't be afraid to ask away! Thanks for coming on this journey with me you guys! I can't wait for another badass year!

[sevi007]

Stobotnik fic recommondations

Sooooo recently, an anon reached out to me to recommend to me some Stobotnik fanfictions

These are not mine I don't think I have even read all of them yet, but I'm sure they are all great, and figured some people might enjoy this, so here you go:

You know, I won't miss you when you're gone - by leftofrevolution

Summary: It had been one hundred and nineteen days since the disappearance of Doctor Ivo Robotnik. According to official record, he never existed. According to any record, he was never found.

Spite, devotion and latte - by Alter_E

Summary:

He was the government’s, and now he is Robotnik’s.

(Or: how Stone changes his loyalty to and for a maniac, egotistical, narcissistic genius.)

An Honest Man - part 1 of a 3 part series by byronicbi

Summary:

Some people march through life with bright lights guiding their every step, leading them up the ladder of success and self-discovery.

Stone isn't one of those people.

Sometimes, life allows for an unspeakable force to pluck a despondent soul from the confines of a cage and set him on a path only meant for him.

to salvage - part of a 2 part series, by little_bugger

Summary: Stone regains consciousness mid-fall. Enough to watch his doctor accept defeat with open arms and tip backward into a sea of explosions. A 450ft drop. Dramatic bastard.

He better survive that. He fucking better. Because Stone doesn’t know what he’ll do if Robotnik ends up dead.

or: stone picks his way through the wreck, looking for robotnik. he finds a tired, unpleasant, and loveably petty man who could - much like stone - use a vacation.

the definition of insanity - part 1 of a 2 part series by VoltageInside

Summary: “What would you do for me?” Robotnik asked softly, his head tilting all the way to the side.

Stone’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, chasing after the feeling of Robotnik’s breath. “Everything.”

(Agent Stone is Dr. Robotnik's devoted henchman.)

"A Better Place" - by little_bugger

Summary: Stone is a man drowning in the tedious muck of new reassignments and missions.

Getting shoved at Robotnik is like a breath of fresh air.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

not going anywhere (FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader short oneshot)

hapy valntins, here's a short fluff piece based off my Afton Virus'd Reader AU, with a hint of unhinged clinginess on all sides <3

FNaF DCA x gender-neutral Reader One-shot, 1,118 words, fluff, implied romantic feelings, clingy obsessive possessive lovers

-

You struggled to open your eyes, squinting and blinking several times before you could begin to make out shapes. Ah… you had fallen asleep at work again. You had promised you would get better about that, but… Well, they didn’t really seem to mind too much… In fact, some days their moods were improved after you spent a night dozing in their room…But you were fairly sure you had been down in maintenance doing paperwork, hadn’t you? So when had you…

You lifted an arm to rub at your eyes, looking around more clearly. You glanced down and breathed a quiet sigh, smiling despite yourself. Of course. They were your ever loyal companions, of course they must have gotten concerned when you failed to clock out or wish them good night as you left. And what caring person wouldn’t take their dear overworked friend to bed if they found them asleep at some cramped, poorly lit desk? And of course they had stayed to watch over you and make sure you slept well, that was their job. 

They really were too sweet for words. Altogether too kind to you, especially after everything you had been through together.

You reached down, gently straightening Moon’s cap with one hand. His eyes were shut, expression peaceful as he ‘slept’ so soundly, using your stomach as a pillow with his arms wound around you several times over. He was warm and heavy, but comfortably so, and it soothed your aching muscles to have the constant pressure of his weight bearing down on you. Even your hands didn’t ache so terribly when he held them. You took a deep breath, gently tracing the curve of his cheek, stroking beneath his eye with your thumb. He was pretty, though he would deny it- a work of art made life. You could look at him for hours and not grow tired. He had said the same of you, once, but you hadn’t been sure why or if he was even being honest. 

You looked around, seeing the sliver of light breaking through the curtains of the balcony. It must be morning by now, you mused, oddly disappointed. There wasn’t time to be lazing about, no matter how comfortable it was or how your head pounded at the thought of going back to the grindstone. You had work to do. You always had so much work to do…

You shook your head, attempting to shoo the thoughts away, and shuffled upward, slowly working yourself into a sitting position without disturbing your slumbering companion. It was still early, and they always fretted over you so much… It would be good for them to rest a while longer, wouldn’t it? You smoothed the ruffle under his chin before beginning the awkward shuffle out of his arms. You’d had plenty of practice at this point, with how often you ended up in this situation, but it was better to be cautious than to risk waking the sleeping jester. They could be quite clingy when they first woke. 

You pushed yourself onto your knees, grasping at the wall to get yourself on your feet.

“Darling,”

A hand traced up your back, the fingertips snagging in your shirt and grabbing a handful of the fabric in an unyielding grip, stopping you in your tracks. 

“where do you think you’re going?”

You were frozen for half a moment before you turned to look down. Moon was awake, one eye cracked open to fix you with a piercing red glare, one arm extended to hold you in place, half standing, only a few inches from where you had been sleeping. You let out a sigh of defeat, disappointed you hadn’t managed to slip away unnoticed, but smiled at him softly.

“Good morning, you two.”

He let out a low hum, his claws dragging against your shirt as he pulled you downward slowly until you were once more seated on the floor. He lifted himself up enough to creep closer, keeping his intense red gaze fixated on yours as he dragged you into his arms again. His other hand followed a similar path of the first, his claws gliding up your back to sink into the fabric just behind your shoulderblade as he laid on top of you once more. The sensation was featherlight but left a shudder going up your spine as the ticklish feeling lingered. 

“You didn’t answer our question, starlight.”

You sighed, gently petting the top of his head, rubbing his cheek as you repeated the movement several times. “I can’t stay. I have work to do.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes again. His hands adjusted their hold, gently working more fabric into his fists as his grip on you grew tighter. “Nonsense. No work today. Daycare is closed.”

You vaguely remembered hearing about a scheduled day off for this section. If you had remembered, you could have planned to do some of your work here… Lamenting over it wouldn’t help the fact that you still had to get up… “That sounds nice, Moon, but-”

“Sh. No buts.” He hissed quietly, pressing his fingertips into your back in a way that made you jump. 

“Moondrop…”

“No.” 

His voice grew sharp, firm, but his peaceful expression didn’t waver. Instead, he lifted a hand and covered your eyes, gently pressing you down until you were laying on your back, nearly consumed by blankets and pillows they kept here specifically for you. He opened one eye again, lifting his hand to meet your gaze for only a moment.

“Sleep, my star.”

He covered your eyes again, pressing his face to your temple in a gentle caress. He draped himself over you, tangling your legs in his as he laid his weight around you carefully, cocooning you in his embrace. 

“Rest, here.”

The darkness was soothing on your aching eyes, and your muscles felt worn and tired simply from your attempt to get up… Maybe it was still early. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you slept just another hour more. Just a little more sleep, so you would be able to work most efficiently. He wouldn’t insist if it wasn’t necessary. 

You let out a long sigh, relaxing into his unyielding, tender embrace. You felt rather than heard the chuckle that rose from his chest. You were putty in his hands, and oh did he know it. You closed your eyes, resting your forehead against his chest. 

“Alright. You’ll wake me in an hour, won’t you? There’s still so much to do…” You yawned, draping an arm over him. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his teeth, and you felt his smile.

“Of course, my starlight.” He lied. 

[rin-eko]

New Intimacy - Caleb x Reader

desc: idk first time sex with caleb and the morn after or smthn. nsfw.

wc: 3.4k

Caleb, who goes manic the first time he sees you naked. Not even fully naked, just your breasts peaked with tight nipples, skin so soft but not as soft and vulnerable as your shaky eyes focused on him in the dim light of his high room in Skyhaven. His brain completely short circuits.

The dark curtains are still drawn open, giving way to the glittering city lights outside, the two of you on his bed above it all and in a position you have never been in before.

All of this, the two of you have never done before.

And it’s strange, because he’s seen you in every other way imaginable. He knows every part of you, perhaps better than you know yourself at times. He was there when you were ten and got a wad of bright pink bubblegum stuck in your hair, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice but still carefully and gently untangling it for you, cutting your hair neatly when the task proved impossible.

He was there when you got your first period, speaking to you in calm tones through the bathroom door as you freaked out on the other side. Always ensuring you had enough supplies, that you did nothing but relax while watching movies during those difficult times, his big, warm hands gently massaging your stomach to soothe the cramps away.

He was there when you got drunk for the first time, pressing two fingers deep in your throat to make you gag out the poison into the toilet while holding you up and promising your pale, clammy face that he wouldn’t tell Gran. And then the next day, threatening to tell her if you didn’t do the dishes for him.

He had been there for you through quite literally everything. Growing up, you had followed him everywhere like a little duckling. Even as adults, your closeness showed in the way you only had to briefly make a gesture, or just open your mouth and Caleb was already answering you, knowing what you wanted or what you were going to say. Your closeness shows in the cadence of your voice, your speech, so similar to Caleb’s. All the slang you’ve adopted was from years of hearing it from him and naturally integrating it into your own manner of speaking without even realising it.

But he doesn’t know this part of you. He has never seen you like this, with sticky, dewy strings of arousal between the junction of your soft thighs. With small gasps and moans escaping your kiss-swollen lips, hands that were hesitant at first gripping him in ways you never had before, in places you never had before.

You’re no better than him. Not for the first time, you have to reconcile with yourself that Caleb is no longer the teasing boy from your childhood, but a full-grown man. And he’s so big… everywhere. Your eyes dip low between your bodies before quickly shooting back up… a small, sharp inhale… You demurely look to the side.

He’s so… big down there. Thick and long, even his balls heavy and swollen with semen. Beneath his navel is a short, dark trail of hair that reaches low.

And you aren’t a girl anymore. He’s thought of this moment so many times, played it in his head over and over but now he feels a brief flash of anxiety. Your most private place… while it certainly appears he’s gotten you wet enough, it’s so small…

Will he even fit?

He’s deeply researched sex and knows the anatomy of the female body but you struggled to take even his fingers…

But then a small snort somewhere between indignation, impatience and false bravado erupts in a way that is so typically you.

“Caleb, just hurry up!” you whine. “Don’t tell me you’re scared you’re gonna blow in two seconds? Well I have heard guys struggle during their first time so I won’t blame you, hehe…”

But then, when he really pushes inside you, tears immediately spring on your lower lash line. His entire body shudders, at the warmth, at your cuteness.

“Baby…” he holds the top of your head and soothes you with kisses on your lips and cheeks, fingers reaching down to circle your clitoris. You gasp into his mouth.

So big… he’s stretching you completely, going so deep his coarse pubic hair presses flush to your own.

You feel suffocated and liberated all at once. Blood rushes to your ears in rolling waves timed with his heavy thrusts.

Everything you both had been imagining for so long and now you really are split apart on him. This person who you have known your whole life. Who taught you everything you know. What love is. How deep and twisted and also beautiful it can be.

So is it screwed up or only right that you also teach each other how your bodies should come together now that you’re adults, free to do as you please? Or rather, uncaring to restrain yourselves anymore.

He groans, long and low. He was prepared to never have this. He would have waited or restrained himself forever if he had to, but now… he doesn’t know if he could go back to the way things were before. Without this warm, wet heat within you and surrounding you in something you aren’t even sure you can describe simply as sex.

…

Caleb’s home doesn’t allow for a lot of sunlight but perhaps the sun has decided to mimic your mood because you wake to find soft, pale yellow rays casting streaks of light through his window, warming the room in patches.

Your eyes blink a few times to adjust to the light, and in response to your awake state, the man holding you tightly from behind releases a shuddering exhale. You moan, mind still in a groggy place somewhere between dreams and reality, but you hold his forearm wrapped around your waist, stroking lazily.

You both bathe in the silence for a while, somehow both happy yet nervous. You, because you’re worried he’ll go back to acting like a friend or brother in an effort to put some distance between you and protect you. After all, there were things he knew that you simply didn’t. Or perhaps he’d be walking on eggshells, afraid of messing up the newfound intimacy the two of you had discovered last night.

Him, because he worried you’d regret it. And if that was so, he wasn’t sure how to deal with that pain. If he’d be able to tuck it away and carry on confidently as usual.

You take the initiative to turn around in his embrace, chests flush against each other. His hand strokes your tailbone in small motions. Quiet. Then,

“Last night-”

“I think-”

You both pause, and then smile softly. You tuck your head to rest your forehead to his throat, tracing his bicep idly. “You first,” your voice is shy and adorable.

He inhales deeply. “I just… I just wanted to say that last night was more than I ever imagined…” he exhales in that full-chested way you love. “God, baby, it was amazing, I don’t know what to say.”

Your entire chest melts. Saliva pools in your mouth. Something tightens from your lower belly to the place between your legs.

You swallow and look up to meet his dark purple gaze. “Me… For me, too.”

“Yeah?”

You hum because anything else you say might just come out as a wanton moan.

A part of Caleb can’t believe it had actually happened after so long imagining it in the deepest, most shameful parts of his mind. But you really are beside him, your smooth, bare skin pressed to him, your hair messy with the evidence of last night, your neck littered with his love bites just like his back is with your nail scratches. He loves it.

So, so much.

He strokes the back of his finger down those love bites now, admiring his work. “Ah,” he starts sheepishly. “Ya may need to cover these up when you go out.” But you both know he doesn’t really want you to. Go out, or cover up the hickies, that is.

And as much as you complain, you don’t really mind. You like everything from him, whether it be reassurance or teasing, because you know there is nothing about yourself that could ever change his heart even fractionally.

So comforting.

You aren’t sure how to describe the night. Whether it was rough or deep or loving or painful or maybe all of it meshing together in one storm of sweat and yearning and flesh and immeasurable deep love exploding after being hidden away for so many years, just like the old time capsule you and Caleb had buried when you were kids.

You, subconsciously, living in ignorance, having long accepted him as a brother figure in your childhood. And him, always knowing, but never able to do anything about it. For fear of others, for fear of losing you, of no longer being able to protect you.

Whatever it was, it had been a long time coming.

After so long holding back, this gorgeous, talented, sought-after man is yours in every way. Even if you’ve always had him, even if words like ‘girlfriend’ or ‘partner’ or ‘soulmate’ shouldn’t matter and can’t possibly describe the depth of your bond, it still sends a shiver of delight up your spine. You definitely want that. Will greedily snatch those titles up and keep it to yourself for eternity, just as you wished to when he would have you play his pretend girlfriend all those years ago.

His huge hand reaches down and covers the whole of your most intimate area. “Your pussy sore?” His finger dips down just to very lightly brush the top of his middle finger against your entrance before coming back to rest on your pubic bone. And you wonder if you’ll ever get used to him speaking about such intimate parts of yourself in that voice you’ve adored for so long, the voice that has guided you your whole life, slightly rough with morning sleep. The same voice that used to tell you ‘Pipsqueak, breakfast is ready!’ every morning and ‘Sweet dreams, little one’ every night.

It was the same last night. You were sure your whole face was red when he had started groaning as he thrusted. Uncontrollable, delicious, deep moans causing tingles throughout your whole body all the way down to your curled toes. Grunting in exertion as he slightly shifted your positions to penetrate even deeper. You had never heard him like that. Had never thought there was a part of him you didn’t know. Even as an adult, you were inexperienced, so he was your first. And when you asked if you were his, too, he chuckled a little, a lovely rumbling sound from the depths of his chest and kissed your forehead affectionately.

“Of course, my only.”

You wanted to unravel this new side of him for the rest of your life.

But a small memory makes a crack in a barrier of your mind, emerging like a seed sprouting from the ground. You squint, trying to catch the thought.

“Actually… I think I’ve heard you moan like last night before… You were in your childhood bedroom…”

The pained, embarrassed way in which he groans and slings an arm over his eyes, laying on his back now, is your answer.

You tease him. “Wow, I guess you were really horny as a teenager. You actually spent a lot of time in you room with the door locked. Your showers were suspiciously long, too, now that I think about it… And you always used to tell me I took so long getting ready but you were actually the culprit who made Gran’s water bill shoot up!”

He peeks out from his arm, one eye glaring at you. “Fuck’s sake, you’re such a brat. Can you blame me? Going through puberty while living in the same house as you was hell. Sometimes I thought I was going to rub myself raw. I must have made more noise than I thought because one day you came innocently knocking on my bedroom door, asking if I was injured of all things.”

You giggle and let it settle in your chest that he really had felt the same way as you for as long as you have. While you always felt it deep down, having the feelings liberated and out in the open is a wonderful feeling you’ll have to get used to.

You stroke his bare chest, just below his collarbones, aware of your naked lower bodies touching and twining beneath the covers. Neither of you are used to touching each other like this and it shows in the light dusting of red on his cheekbones before he also reaches to stroke one arm up and down your bare waist in a soothing and casual manner. You can feel he wants to say something, and after another moment’s hesitation, he speaks up, voice purposefully light to try and disguise how curious he really is.

“You… never did it to the thought of me?”

Your immediate pause, accompanied by flushed cheeks, are his answer. You bury your face in his sternum, collapsing in a heap of humiliation. He chuckles. “Glad I wasn’t the only one, baby.” His head tilts slightly in thought. “Hmm… now I kind of want to see that, though.” He grins cheekily when you lightly slap his chest, satisfied with your reaction to his teasing.

You both quiet down again, enjoying being with each other like this. He strokes up and down your abdomen comfortingly and you count the freckles on his body until you’re forced to halt when his hand makes its way down… down… to your sex once more. He touches the neatly trimmed hair there and rubs it. He hums in thought.

“When you’re shaving, or trimming, here next time, let me do it.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I always used to shave the back of your legs while you sat on the edge of the bathtub. There were parts you couldn’t reach and you’d always cut yourself.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve grown up. I’ve learned how to do it safely.”

“Still,” he presses a hot kiss to your throat. “Let me.”

You don’t object because you’re sure you’ll end up liking the unique ways he dotes on you anyway, but when his fingers, long and thick, nailbeds neat and clean and cut short, travel lower to spread your lips, a small moan escapes you. Cool air touches your clit before his finger presses it lightly.

You’re breathing hard. “Caleb… what… are you… doing… ungh…”

Last night, he stayed down there for ages, memorising you. Your taste, your smell. And now, he seems just as fascinated with that secret part of you, rubbing you lightly in case you’re sore.

“I love this,” he says quietly. He gets underneath you, so your back is laying on his chest, your full weight on him. Your legs are spread wide over his, face next to his on the pillow, neck arching up when he circles your clit more firmly, hairline sticky and perspiring. Your arm naturally winds its way around the back of his neck while his other holds your waist, heated gaze full of smoke drinking you in completely. His dogtag, the same one that was hanging between you last night before he moved it out of the way to rest between his prominent shoulder blades, tinkles by your ear. You feel the cool metal against the side of your face just as one long finger enters you carefully.

You moan, unabashed, and hide your face in the crook of his neck, leaving everything to him as tension once again simmers and boils over.

…

The two of you spend the rest of the morning making love. Tenderly, closely, desperately. Your foreheads tightly press against each other, your legs tucked up, one hand around his neck while the other rests on his back as he moves between your thighs.

His gravelly voice keeps speaking to you,

“Are you sore? Is it okay? I love you, love you, love you… ah, I don’t know how to say what I feel for you…” he whispers and breathes into your mouth, face flushed and perspiring. He licks across your teeth, still raring to go even when you’re a satisfied, but very tired, slump on the bed.

He kisses and licks your closed lips, the drool at the corner of your mouth, the redness beneath your eyes. Like an animal licking and soothing its kindred, he can’t stop touching you. The sun moves through the sky but neither of you ever want to stop caressing and petting each other now that you finally fully belong to one another. It’s a level of pleasure, physical and emotional, unlike any other.

…

After spending too much time in bed and deciding neither of you wants to leave the house today, Caleb kisses your forehead and gets up from the bed, saying something about getting breakfast started even though it’s late in the day.

“You tired me out last night, pipsqueak, I’m starving.”

You watch his strong body move fluidly. As he searches for something to wear, he stretches his neck from side to side, the sound of two cracks seeming to satisfy his muscles.

He finds a pair of sweatpants and pulls them over his firm butt, remaining shirtless. He grins over his shoulder when he catches you staring and drooling at him.

He stretches his words, “Orrrrrrr, do you want some more of me?”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his face, but it stops short just before him and slumps to the ground. He laughs his way out of the room, the carefree, happy sound making your heart pulse quickly.

You take your time getting out of bed, finding a comfortable shirt of Caleb’s to throw on before sliding a pair of underwear- that you recognise as yours but have no idea why Caleb has it tucked in his draw- up your legs.  

You meet him in the kitchen, admiring his muscular back before he turns from the stove to place a steaming plate of breakfast on the counter, catching your gaze.

“Just in time, pipsqueak. Order up.”  

As he stands in front of the sink, dealing with pans and utensils, you brave coming up behind him and cuddling into his bare back, wanting one more moment of skinship before sitting to devour the food.

He freezes momentarily before his shoulder relax. He touches your hands around his waist that are resting over his stomach.

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Caleb, you know…”

“Hm?” he glances over his shoulder curiously. Rather than playful, your tone is more quiet and serious.

You take a small breath and whisper into the place between his shoulder blades.

“You are the only one for me, in any way, ever.”

He tenses.

Something you hadn’t expected from you dependable, strong and self-assured ex-adoptive brother, who was literally good at everything he did, was that he needed reassurance and was often unsure of the standing of your relationship. Of the way you regarded him.

He had always been trying to protect you, but not push too much, always trying to hold you without giving into his true desires. Always scrambling to learn everything so you’d only come to him for anything you needed.

For so many years, he had to make sure to maintain that delicate balance while you remained blissfully unaware of his internal struggles.

“That’s what you are to me,” you continue to whisper.

He turns against the counter and you go on your tiptoes to softly kiss his lips, speaking lightly against them.

“Everything. A brother, a friend, a guardian, a life partner.” He took on all the duties of these roles. Always unquestionably, always without complaint, always happily, even possessively, so you could always rely on him. So you would always know he’d be right there waiting if you turned to look. And even if you didn’t, still, he would do everything to make you happy.

Even after he had left, when he had returned and you had slowly become a part of each other’s lives again, you found yourself so easily slipping back into that role of having Caleb take care of you.

But now, you wanted to take care of him, too.

The person who you had both loved and hated, but always wanted with a desperation that made your entire body ache, your gravitational point.