#buckle flip flops

[delphi-shield]

SAY IT BACK ↪ letting them leave without an ily

finishing up some smaller things from my wip folder before i buckle down and work on the big stuff again. here's this doofy little fluff piece.

characters included: chris redfield, leon kennedy, jill valentine, ada wong

content: fluff. just fluff. established relationship. mildly ooc behavior for the sake of fluff (also known as being in a relationship and acting stupid)

You found it on TikTok - or maybe it was Instagram, or Facebook - doesn't matter. One of the media conglomerates had given you a horrible idea about how to tease your loving, devoted partner.

It's simple - when they said 'I love you' before they left for work, you just wouldn't say it back. What could go wrong?

Chris Redfield ↪

Did not notice. Secure. In his lane. Unbothered. Probably not moisturized. (Get him a nice oil, fragrance free. He'll like it more if you massage it into his muscles for him, spend a little extra time smoothing along the curve of his spine, up and over the tightness of his shoulders.)

If you're at the point with Chris where he's saying “I love you” in place of a goodbye, he doesn't need to hear you say it back. He's confident in your relationship. Hearing it is just a nice bonus.

You're going to get your own feelings hurt here. Sent yourself into a spiral. Like, damn, does he not listen? Does he not care? What the fuck is his deal?

Chris is legitimately confused when you bring it up to him later. Doesn't get the point of the whole thing. “Why wouldn't you just say you love me?” Head cocked to the side, so puppy-like you can practically see the velvety ears flopping over.

Really doesn't do the whole social media thing. Even when you show him videos as an example, he's just shrugging. "I'm pretty sure those are skits, honey. No one really reacts like that."

If only he knew. Hey - at least now you know that Chris is perfectly content in your relationship and won't let anything silly like this bother him. It's just a sign to ramp up the pranks - more practical jokes, less subtle, harmless emotional manipulation.

That's what you thought, at least, but when Chris flips the light off that night and sidles up behind you in bed, strong arms slipping around your middle and tugging you back to him, his voice rumbles in your ear - "You gonna tell me you love me, or is this gonna be a problem?"

And Chris is really good at extracting confessions. How badly do you actually want to get some sleep tonight?

Jill Valentine ↪

Doesn't seem to have noticed that you ignored her. Walked right out the door without missing a step, didn't even glance back. Her car pulls out of the garage, her sunglasses on - she seems entirely unbothered.

Oh, she’s bothered.

Jill Valentine is Not Petty™️. And she does not pout when her partner doesn't say ‘I love you’ back. She's in a pissy mood at work for a completely unrelated reason. She's not returning your texts because she's busy at work, not because she's trying (and failing) to give you a taste of your own medicine.

She definitely doesn't carry that storm cloud all the way home with her, doesn't rain on your parade when you cheerfully announce that dinner's ready and on the table.

You're trying everything you can think of to cheer her up. Asking about work got you a noncommittal shrug. You'd offered to draw a bath for her - or (preferably) for the both of you, but she'd dismissed the idea, talking about how it would take up too much time.

She didn't have the heart to shrug you off when you started massaging her shoulders. Despite your silence in the morning, you were clearly intent on taking care of her. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe you just hadn't heard her.

Her palm presses against your cheek, turns you to face her. She searches your eyes for a moment, her gaze unreadable. "Thanks for dinner. I love you."

Nothing. Fucking nothing. "You're welcome."

Jill knows that look on your face, that shit-eating grin that you're trying to cover up by glancing down, by pretending to be flustered. Her hands grip your hips. She manhandles you into her lap, chair scraping against the floor to make room for the both of you.

"Okay - spill. What's up with you?"

Once you explain, she's not mad about the whole thing, not really. But you can't help but notice that she's been withholding kisses lately, and-- wait.

Fuck. Now she's turned the tables on you.

Leon Kennedy ↪

Keeps finding new and inventive ways to double back inside the house. He's not going to outright ask you what's up - that would make him look desperate, which he’s totally not. He’s definitely not concerned at all that you didn’t complete your morning ritual and send him out the door with an ‘I love you’. He’s a big boy - this isn’t high school, this is his very mature, very adult relationship.

Excuse number one: “Sorry, forgot my keys,” as he makes a show of dropping his keys out of his pocket, onto the living room floor. His eyes are on you when he reaches to grab them. Leon tosses them in his hand, making as much noise as he possibly can. “All right, love you.”

You hold strong. Still no ‘love you’ back. He’s gone for all of 60 seconds when he comes back with excuse number two: “Ah, damn, forgot my badge. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

His badge is attached to his belt. You can literally see it. When you point that out to him, he makes a show of being relieved, goes so far as to press a kiss to your temple, and says, “God, what would I do without you? Love ya. Have a good day.”

But you hold strong. Until excuse number three:

“Babe, have you seen my gun?”

You laugh, which only makes him laugh - and then he hits you with ‘no, seriously’ while he leans against the doorway, hip cocked. He’s got you figured out by now, knows that if he can make you laugh then you’re not doing this because you’re mad at him or anything. He can't even be mad when you explain it to him. He can only warn you:

"I'm gonna get you for this. Now, c'mon - say it."

Ada Wong ↪

I don't know why you would do this to her to be honest. She just said ‘I love you’. You should be marking your calendar and turning this into a holiday.

She doesn't say it often, at least not while you're conscious. Whether she presses her sentiments into your hair while you sleep against her, drooling against her collar bone, is up for debate. You have no hard evidence and she'll deny the allegations.

It simultaneously is and is not a big deal. She didn't say it because she craved the validation of having you repeat it to her. She said it because she meant it. There's so few concrete truths about herself that she can share with you, but that was one of them. Does it sting a little not to have it returned? Maybe.

She turns the moment over and over in her head, letting it haunt her. You had given her time, she thinks, why can't she give you yours? But your silence is a specter that tinges every moment. It creeps at the edges of every thought, it–

“Hey, you forgot your coffee.”

She turns to see you in the door of your apartment, hanging from the frame with one hand, her cup extended to her in the other. She clicks back to you in her stilettos, and your press a kiss to her cheek when she claims her drink. The guilt of it all ate at you before you could let her leave your sight. “Love you. Be safe.”

She'd spiraled before she even got down to the parking lot. Total loser in love.

[delulu-is-the-solulu-843]

Basically Abby teaches you how to fuck her or alternatively, Abby topping from the bottom.

-

“Mmhm that’s it baby, fuck just like that” Abby’s back arched as you fucked into her. You told her you wanted to try wearing the strap, but you’ve never done so before so she told she’d walk you through it. While you were the one fucking her abby was still in complete control. You were merely just obeying as she basically used you as a toy.

“Snap your hips harder baby” you grip her hips and do as your told and the reaction is immediate, her head falls back against the pillows with a porn worthy moan.

“Fuck good girl” you preen at the praise and snap your hips into her again, wanting to please her more.

“Add some deep thrust between” she grunted out “put the whole strap in” she instructed.

You slowed your pace and fucked the whole strap into her, almost cumming at the way she whimpered. Your thrusts were quick yet deep. You can’t believe Abby would do this for hours to you, you were getting tired already. Sweat glistened your body and your muscles burned but you were determined. You were going to make Abby cum.

The view below was worth the pain you’d have later, her hair splayed out on the pillow, sweat dotting her forehead and a flush on her body. Her eyes were half lidded and watching you, her tits bounced with each thrust and if you looked down you could see the way the strap disappeared into her pussy, her slick coating the strap making a white ring form at the base.

You were beginning to understand why Abby loved fucking you so much, if this is the view you got you’d fuck her every chance you got.

The hands on your waist gripped tighter

“So good so fucking good, that’s it baby. Loosen up and let your hips move.”

You thrust with your hips and you’re rewarded with a broken moan as Abby bites her lip. “Mmh atta girl”

“Think you can multi task” she asks panting

You nod your head yes and a slap is placed on your ass

“You know the rules baby. Use your words.”

“Yes Abby”

“There you go sweetheart. Think you can rub my clit while you fuck me?” She asks and you bite back a groan. Fuck god her talking about you fucking her just flips a switch inside you.

“Yes” you tell her determined. You were going to make her cum while fucking her with the strap. Before you began she told you not to feel bad if you had to tap out, because wearing the strap wasn’t for everyone. You were going to show her wrong.

You do something you’ve seen her do a thousand times, you slow your thrusts and spit on her pussy, and she has the exact same reaction you always do. She whimpers.

You use your spit as lube to rub her clit with while you pick up the pace again. It took a minute to get the pacing again but you got it.

“Good girl, good girl good girl…” Abby chanted under her breath as you fucked her.

Her fingers dug into you surely going to leave a bruise. Her cunt was tightening around the strap which made you have to work harder to fuck it in and out of her. Your fingers circled her clit. And you were rewarded for all your efforts.

Abby’s back arches, her heels dig into the bed and she cry’s out your name as she squirts around the strap.

You made Abby Anderson squirt, that’s the only thing you can think of as you watch her unravel beneath you.

You flop down onto breathing heavily. It was worth it but you couldn’t do any more, you can’t believe Abby would go round after round like that.

You buried your face in Abby neck and you felt her trying to catch her breath beneath you. “Holy shit” she breaths out

“Holy shit” you repeat back to her

You felt her press kisses to your head. “You did so good for me sweetheart, such a good girl.” She praises you and you smile against her neck.

She rolls you both over groaning when the strap slides out of her. You feel her undoing the buckles and pulling the strap down your legs. You feel her put your legs on her shoulders and you tiredly look down at her.

She looks up at you her eyes meeting yours, “good girls get to cum too.” She winks before devours your soaked cunt.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“You’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?” Price asked, following Simon’s line of sight, his eyes landing on your figure.

Your laughter filled the air, causing a smile to form on both the men’s lips. They’d been watching you for the last few minutes, casually joking about with Soap.

Simon was quiet as his mind filled with thoughts of you. The way you always smiled at him, even in the worst of times. The way you laughed so care free, a laugh that could cure any ailment Simon could possibly have. The way you cared for him, more than he’d ever had someone care for him in his life.

Prices eyes drifted back toward Simon, a small smile dancing on his lips. “It warms an old man’s heart you know.”

Simon looked over at his captain, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that?”

“I’ve known you for how many years, Simon?” Price rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he held Simon’s gaze. “Never once have I seen you smile the way you do around them. You deserve to be happy, son.”

Simon let Price’s words sink in, the prospect of being with you in that way was not entirely unwelcome for Simon. But he was scared. Simon was such a broken mess of a man that he truly believed nothing could piece him back together.

Price stood, drawing Simon’s attention back to him, and clasped Simon’s shoulder firmly. “Don’t let that thick skull of yours prevent you from being happy. Take it from someone who knows.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon found you again later that day, his palms sweaty from his nerves. “Hey, you got a sec?”

You looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of you, the warm smile lining your lips as you looked at Simon had his knees nearly buckling. “Of course.”

Any confidence Simon had walking in there, was now gone as he stared down at you. Your E/C eyes melting his insides as he struggled to formulate the words he’d just practiced earlier.

“I..” Damnit! What was wrong with him? He was Simon fucking Riley for god sakes. He was supposed to be fearless. Yet here he was rendered a stuttering mess in front of you. “Fuck.”

You let out a soft giggle, causing Simon’s insides to warm. “Is everything okay, Si?”

Your nickname for him always had Simons brain in a fog, and it certainly wasn’t helping his case in this moment. “Yeah, yeah I just uh..”

You patiently watched as Simon struggled to form the words, your smile never faltering as his eyes drifted toward your lips.

“Are you free later?” He finally asked, his words coming out rushed.

“Is there a training?” You pondered, your mind flicking through the upcoming training schedule. “I wasn’t made-.”

“No.” Simon interjected. “It’s uh.. it’d just be you and I. There’s this pub I like to go to by base.”

Simon didn’t think it possible, but your smile widened even more, taking up the entire lower half of your face. “Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Riley?”

His cheeks burned crimson as your teasing, his belly doing flip flops as he gave you a curt nod. “Affirmative.”

“I would love that.” You said, as you stood to your feet. “It’s about damn time you asked me.”

Simon smiled brighter and wider than he’d ever had in his life, his mind now swirling with thoughts of the perfect first date. For the first time in a long time, Simon Riley was excited.

Maybe something could piece together his broken self after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: please excuse my multiple Simon fluff pieces. Ya girl has to heal🥹

[slutoru1207]

Invincible!Dad x pregnant reader (Bonus scene 2)

Uncle William, Aunt Amber and reader having a sleepover

You, William, and Amber were deep into a “self-care night,” sprawled across her couch in face masks, fuzzy socks, and oversized t-shirts. A half-empty bottle of rosé sat on the coffee table, and the mood? Immaculate.

Amber stretched, taking another sip from her glass. “Okay. Let’s get real.”

William perked up. “Oh? Are we talking shit?”

Amber smirked. “Better. We’re talking sex.”

You nearly choked on your tea. “Oh, we’re just jumping right in, huh?”

Amber shot you a look. “Girl, please. You’re literally pregnant. The time for being shy is long gone.”

William snorted, grabbing a pillow to hug. “She’s got a point, bestie.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I need details.” You wiggled your fingers. “Spill the freaky tea.”

Amber grinned. “Gladly.” She leaned in. “So, I was hooking up with this guy last week, and when I tell you—this man had me on my toes.”

William gasped. “Not the toes.”

Amber nodded, sipping her wine. “Like, I thought I’d seen it all, right? But this dude? Straight-up folded me like a pretzel.”

You cackled. “AMBER—”

William grabbed her arm. “Wait, wait, wait. Describe it.”

Amber smirked. “Let’s just say—ankles over my head, hands pinned, and I saw God.”

You screamed.

William threw his pillow across the room. “BITCH.”

Amber tossed her hair. “What can I say? Man knew what he was doing.”

You fanned yourself. “Okay, well, damn. Now I feel like my stories are boring.”

Amber scoffed. “Oh, hell no. You have Viltrumite dick. Spill. Now.”

William nodded aggressively. “Yes. Bestie. We need to discuss the logistics of being railed by someone with superhuman stamina.”

You took a deep breath. “Alright. Buckle the fuck up.”

Amber and William gasped in unison.

“So,” you continued, setting your glass down. “First off? Man has zero idea how strong he actually is.”

William covered his mouth. “I knew it.”

You nodded. “Like, we’ll be going at it, and sometimes he’ll grip my thighs too tight and boom—bruises.”

Amber nearly choked. “Girl.”

William grabbed your arm. “Does he at least feel bad afterward?”

“Oh, so bad.” You giggled. “Like, full-on puppy dog eyes, ‘Babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you’—and I eat that shit up.”

Amber smirked. “You love it, don’t you?”

You shrugged innocently. “I mean, listen—when a man can pick you up like it’s nothing and hold you against a wall for a whole twenty minutes?” You exhaled dramatically. “It does something to you.”

William screamed.

Amber threw a pillow at you. “BITCH, YOU’RE LIVING MY DREAM.”

William flopped onto the couch. “I knew Mark was secretly a freak. I just knew it.”

You sipped your tea smugly. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Amber and William leaned in instantly.

“Oh, you have to tell us now,” Amber insisted.

You grinned, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Let’s just say… sometimes, when he gets too into it, he starts hovering.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “NO. HE. DOESN’T.”

William slapped the couch. “I KNEW IT.”

You nodded. “Deadass. One second we’re on the bed, next thing I know? We’re floating.”

Amber wheezed. “MA’AM—”

William was losing it. “HOW DO YOU EVEN RECOVER FROM THAT??”

You giggled. “Well, I didn’t freak out, but Mark? This man panicked. He dropped us so fast, we damn near broke the bed frame.”

Amber died. William was crying.

“I hate you,” Amber wheezed.

William wiped fake tears. “This is the best conversation I’ve ever had.”

Amber sniffed dramatically. “Okay, but wildest place?”

You tapped your chin. “Hmm… rooftop of a random-ass building in the city?”

Amber’s jaw dropped.

William threw his pillow across the room. “I— I’m speechless.”

Amber clutched her chest. “You’re thriving.”

You flipped your hair. “Thank you.”

Amber sighed dreamily. “Okay. Now I need to get me a superhero.”

William nodded solemnly. “Girl, same.”

The three of you clinked glasses, your laughter filling the room.

And honestly? This was exactly the kind of chaos you needed.

[ronearoundblindly]

Meep-Cute

Bucky Barnes & shapeshifter!Reader (platonic; you are Alpine) ((eventual Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader))

Summary: In your fluffy, white cat form, you come across a stranger who is unexpectedly kind.

I decided to make this a drabble series because it's really just a bunch of cute situations until the big reveal. Let's just enjoy some adorable fluff and sweet!Bucky in the mean time, right? No warnings, although there's very vague mentions that reader has a sad past, too.

*I'm sorry this is a weird one to tag on here because 'x reader' usually means a relationship, but eh, I'm doing my best, gang. WC 614

He was so still sitting on the stoop, shaggy dark hair covering his face, all black clothing that not even the buckles shine on, you didn’t know he was there until nearly past. With so much on your mind, your shoulders bend high, your head stays level, but your tail droops between your legs.

You are as low to the ground as possible, trying and failing to be as invisible as the man on the stairs.

Out of nowhere you hear this soft coo of “hello there,” startling you to jump sky high and scuttle a few paces farther before looking back.

He seems small in the shadows, but the hand that stretches out is enormous, pale. 

“Pretty girl, where you going?” His voice is so soft. You’ve been deceived by ’soft’ before.

After looking around, checking for any threats you may have missed, you chirp.

“All alone, huh? You hungry? Thirsty?”

You hiss…softly.

“Okay, okay, you don’t know me. I get it.” The pale hand withdraws into his shadows again. “I’m Bucky.”

There’s a cautious rumble in the back of your throat, but he’s made no moves to catch you, keep you, or worse.

“I just wanted to say ‘hi,’ darling.”

It’s the tinge of sadness, the resignation in his tone that turns the tables in your mind. You recognize that. Sometimes, you just want someone there, too.

He’s earned a meow, and you sit daintily on your haunches in a streak of moonlight.

“Hey,” Bucky mutters, shifting, “aren’t you a sweet—“

But the hand that extends this time is shiny, reflective, and clicks in places, so you shy away.

“Shit. Sorry, doll.” He flips it palm up and touches his knuckles to the pavement, letting you sniff at the bizarre appendage.

The metallic smell is overwhelming. You huff it out of your nostrils.

Bucky chuckles. “Not my favorite either.”

Why you trust him enough to do this, you couldn’t say, but you’re compelled to bap at the fingers until he pulls them away, insisting they aren’t a toy.

Bucky tsks, patting himself down for a moment before going straight for his boot lace, asking if you like strings instead.

You aren’t a real cat. He doesn’t know—hopefully never will—but shouldn’t be put out by undoing an entire shoe for your entertainment, so you immediately walk forward and place your paw on the ties.

His hands freeze.

When you look up, your eyes adjust to the deeper darkness to see tortured features, sad, strained, and questioning. He seems shocked, and you sense he fears something, about this situation or about you.

You tap your paw against him once more and cock your head to the side playfully, hoping to lighten that weight sitting atop him. You know that feeling. You left that feeling only hours ago.

Bucky’s breath catches as he hesitates, inscrutable eyes wide and watching, until his pale hand raises slowly to pet you between the ears. It’s only the graze of his fingertips, hardly even a scratch, but you make sure to purr in encouragement.

Those downcast eyes transform, crinkling at the edges as a smile breaks the mask of unspoken pain, and he coos again.

“Hello, there, beautiful lady. Whatcha doing all alone out here?”

You could ask him the same, but you’re not ready to be human yet. Too much has happened. Too much could happen still. It’s safer to take your time, to listen, to stay, so you lean into his hand, flop onto your side, draped across the steel toes of his big boots, and chatter incoherently.

Bucky’s smart, though, because you can tell he knows you meant, “well, I’m not alone now.”

[Next Part: Scaredy Cat]

[Love Bites with Steve Rogers]

[Main Masterlist; Companion Animal Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry @bitchy-bi-trash @yenzys-lucky-charm

[sturniololuvz]

a fic where sister reader (teen) is always tired and falls asleep everywhere (like a compilation) whether it’s on the boys or on the kitchen counter

cutee

“Sleeping beauty”

Sturniolos x sister

Being the triplets’ younger sister meant Y/N had inherited some of their chaotic energy. But lately? She was always tired. Like, ridiculously tired. To the point where she could—and would—fall asleep anywhere.

⸻

1. On Nick

Nick was editing on the couch, talking to Y/N about the video when he realized she hadn’t responded in a while.

“…Y/N?”

Silence.

He turned his head and saw her, fully asleep, curled up against his side like he was a damn pillow.

Nick sighed. “Dude.”

Still nothing.

He nudged her shoulder. “Hello?”

All he got was a sleepy hum before she snuggled in closer.

Nick rolled his eyes but didn’t move. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

⸻

2. On the Kitchen Counter

Chris walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep himself, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Because Y/N? Was sprawled out on the kitchen counter. Asleep.

Chris blinked. “Are you serious?”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Chris sighed, walking over and tapping her arm. “Yo, Sleeping Beauty, you good?”

Y/N groggily cracked one eye open. “Mmm. Tired.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “No shit.”

Y/N closed her eyes again. “Five more minutes.”

Chris sighed. “Whatever. Not my problem if you fall off.”

⸻

3. In Matt’s Bed (Uninvited.)

Matt walked into his room after a long day, ready to crash—only to find Y/N already passed out on his bed.

He groaned. “Dude, what the hell?”

Y/N barely stirred.

Matt ran a hand down his face. “You literally have your own bed.”

Still nothing.

Matt sighed and flopped down beside her. “Fine. But if you steal my blanket, we’re fighting.”

She didn’t respond, already too deep in sleep to care.

Matt rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over both of them.

“Unbelievable.”

⸻

4. During a Video

The boys were filming a sit-down video, and Y/N had joined them on the couch.

Bad idea.

Because fifteen minutes in? She was gone.

Nick turned to her. “Dude, are you asleep right now?”

Chris poked her arm. “Y/N?”

Y/N barely moved, letting out a tiny sigh.

Matt snorted. “No way.”

Nick shook his head. “Alright, well—guess Y/N’s not in this video.”

Chris smirked. “Nah, leave it in. Let ‘em see how lazy she is.”

Y/N, still asleep, somehow managed to flip him off.

Matt lost it.

⸻

5. The One Time They Had to Physically Carry Her

The triplets were out getting food when Y/N, mid-bite of her fries, dozed off in the booth.

Chris noticed first. “Bro, no way she just fell asleep again.”

Matt sighed. “We can’t take her anywhere.”

Nick groaned, standing up. “Alright, let’s go.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Dude. She’s asleep.”

Nick crossed his arms. “Then we carry her.”

So, like the absolute simps they were, they ended up carrying their unconscious sister out of the restaurant and into the car.

Y/N didn’t wake up once.

Chris shook his head as he buckled her in. “She’s literally a toddler.”

Nick sighed. “Yeah. But she’s our toddler.”

Y/N was always tired.

And the triplets? Well… they just had to deal with it.

[gravesdept]

thinkin’ out loud.. bottom! fwb!phillip graves x top! male reader

CONTENT: MDNI, FEM DNI, sexual activities, anal fingering, blood (mentioned for a brief part), bottom! phillip graves, smut, Top! male reader, office handjob, ooc graves? 900+ words, short, friends with benefits relationship

♡　＃　𓂃 on the plush and soft sofa in his office you feel the heat of graves body pressed against yours, your mind races with thoughts and desires. hands roaming and groping over his scarred n’ pale skin. you feel the muscles ripple mildly beneath you in your harsh and slow touch.

you can't help but let out a low growl as you press your lips to his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. he moans in response, his body arching into yours, like his body is begging for more.

your fingers trail down his chest, teasing each of his nipples slowly before continuing their antagonizing descent. he trembles and gasps as your fingers reach his waistband playing with it for just a bit to watch him whine in discontent, fumbling down with the button and eventually the zipper. you yourself can't wait any longer, your cock basically throbbing for some sort of physical treatment or release.

as you push his pants down, his erection springs free, flopping back down onto his scarred stomach, sitting there so prettily against it, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip and sliding down. you can't resist the urge to lean down and lick it off, savoring the sweet-tangy taste of his arousal. he groans and tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding you to take more of his length in your mouth. and you would have let him.

but you had other plans tonight. you pull back and flip him over, pushing him onto his hands and knees. his ass presented to you nicely in this view, his back arching looking so enticing you can't help but marvel at the sight.

rolling up his shirt more you lean down and press a kiss to his spine before spreading his ass apart, exposing his tight entrance. he was still halfway clothed, his shirt was unbuttoned, gear was still sitting loosely on the sofa behind you and his pants slung down around the ankles of his feet. 

one of your calloused hands slides down his thighs once, twice more gripping and holding before stopping at his entrance. a thumb coming to circle around the rim. teasing if not only for a bit before pushing against the barrier and slowly inside of him. graves immediately clenchs around the tip of your thumb. whines would’ve most definitely been heard from outside if not for the sound proof walls that came with a commander’s office.

the dry push of your thumb inside of him was enough for you to contemplate giving him a bit of relief. spitting onto his puckered rim as lubricant. incoherent words come spewing out of his pretty lips “fuk’ me ohhhh lord.” he babbles as you remove your thumb to add a second finger now, your pointer and forefinger moving in and out of him while increasing in pace. he bucks down onto your fingers with an animalistic and carnal desire to chase his release.

only a few minutes later and you're already adding a third. thrusting into him at a speed his alluring little mind couldn’t comprehend, at least not while you’re almost full knuckles deep inside of him. desperate moans leave graves mouth, his lips bruised and coated in the smallest amount of blood after biting them so hard trying to stop his sounds.

once you felt like he was ready you pulled your fingers out to unbuckle your belt. graves' head turns swiftly to catch the source of the clinking, looking too blissed out from the foreplay. his tongue catches the blood dripping from his lips from a swipe across as he flips himself over to his back with a bloody smirk on his face “lieutenant, if s’you keep goin like this I won't last much longer.” 

the final buckle to pull off your belt is released. now advancing to the zipper which doesn’t take long as you pull down your uniform pants, leaving you in those uncomfortable shadow issued boxers. the ones graves loves to see you in, the ones he wants you to take off right now. 

he shifts on his back lifting onto his elbows to hook his fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers and he pulls you forward, each one of your arms landing on a side of his head. 

your eyes lock onto graves, dirty blonde hair cascading over his forehead, sweat sticking them together in strings. 

he lifts a smirk to you, knowing exactly what's on your mind with the lust ridden on your face. he pulls your boxers down so your cock springs free and slaps up onto your abdomen comically. he brings his hand down to stroke you “jus’ knew this thing was big.” he mutters fingers tracing veins along the shaft. the cool air hits you just right as you groan and take hold of his hand to guide his hand along your length.  

graves watches you with hungry eyes, his lips parting slightly he lets out a low moan, your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. the kiss is wild and passionate, rough with teeth clashing, fueled by months of pent-up desire. graves moans into your mouth. his left hand gripping your hip tightly, pulling you closer to him while still dragging long strokes out of you.

as you break the kiss, graves looks up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. the hand stroking your length glides back up past your abdomen to your chest and grabs your neck.

you lean in to capture his lips once again, your tongue eagerly exploring his mouth. graves responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire within you. you break the kiss to catch your breath, your eyes locking onto his.

and ohh.. from how his pretty’ blue eyes shined with painful desire, you could just tell this was going to be one hell of a session.

[moremaybank]

it’s your first midsummers because you’re a pouge who’s not used to heels. so halfway through you’re limping and rafes like “why didn’t you say anything???”

soft and chivalrous rafe is where i'm going with this 💪

as a pogue, you don't attend nearly as many "fancy" events as the kooks do. but that all changes when you start dating rafe. he's bringing you everywhere, wanting to show his perfect girl off to the island's richest and most powerful people.

he takes you shopping on the mainland, and by the end of the trip, your outfit is composed of the finest and most luxurious fabrics, down to the shoes.

speaking of the shoes, they're starting to kill your feet. standing around chatting with people whose tax brackets are ten times higher than yours and walking around with your arm looped around rafe's means no sitting whatsoever. the height of the heels is the nail in the coffin, stretching and flexing your feet so hard that you're barely keeping it together.

"c'mon. let's get you a drink, princess," rafe speaks. you nod in agreement and begin to move your feet. you try to stop your face from wincing, and you almost hide your pain from rafe. however, your mission fails when you take your next step and your ankle buckles.

rafe is quick to catch your near-fall, eyes wide as he holds you up.

"woah. you okay, baby?"

"yeah. yeah, i'm fine," you respond, shrugging it off.

rafe gives you a look, letting you know that he can see right through you. "no, you're not. what's wrong?"

your eyes tear away from his. "my feet are just sore," you mutter.

"why didn't you say anything?"

"i didn't wanna embarrass you. wanted to impress your friends and make you proud."

"you could never embarrass me, baby. i would show you off if you were wearing flip-flops," he says, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. "i hate that you've been walking around in pain all night without telling me."

"'m sorry," you apologize bashfully, your cheeks heated at how sweet he's being.

rafe crouches down, and his fingers find the clasp around your ankle. he undoes it and removes your foot from the shoe, repeating his actions on your other foot. then, when he stands back up, he lifts you up bridal style with your heels still in one hand. you let out a small yelp, followed by the sweetest giggle rafe's ever heard.

"rafe, what are you doing? people will see," you say as your eyes roam around the crowd.

"so let them. i'm not letting you walk around with sore feet and wobbly ankles. we’re going home."

concepts

[brotherwtf]

there’s a good chance you’ve written about this already (please drop a link if you have!!) but i can’t stop thinking about john calling gale pet names for the first time. “baby”, “honey”, “sweetheart”. john just starts using them so casually, like he’s always called gale these things, but it makes gale’s insides flip flop every time. he loves being john’s baby even if he can’t say it out loud. john pretends like he doesn’t notice that gale blushes and stutters and glitches every time he calls him something sweet but he definitely does and he loves it :)

I mean it's pretty par for the course for John to call Gale all of those pet names, I actually can't think of a single drabble where he DOESNT call Gale a pet name... that's just his baby he has to call it as he sees it

but their first time? oh my God Gale almost melts through the damn floor with how red he gets

like you said, it's very casual and natural when John starts using pet names "can you help me with this, baby?" "no problem, doll" "of course darling," and John doesn't bat an eye at it, just naturally slips out when he's comfortable but Gale literally stops in his tracks when John calls him that for the first time, short circuits and can't think of a response until John asks him again or gives him a look, and then Gale will just shake his head and smile, does whatever John needs him to do

Gale's never been called these things before, Gale's mother didn't really do pet names and his father DEFINITELY didn't, so his first encounter with someone who cares enough about him to call him such names being John made his head spin

he flushes almost every time John calls him something those first couple of months, would hide his face so John wouldn't see how embarrassed he gets, would hide his pleased smile when John calls him "baby" or "doll" or "beautiful" but John always catches onto it and pulls him in for a hug or a kiss, nuzzles his nose against Gale's red hot cheek and smiles so big and bright Gale can't help but follow suit

but it's so hot for someone like John, older, more mature, more capable, to call Gale his, to call him such sweet things, Gale knows John truly means it because he wouldn't be saying such things if he didn't mean it, and that makes Gale's knees buckle even more

of course it only gets better when John says them in that husky, fucked out voice, one that's almost obscured by a moan while he's kissing or fucking Gale, even then it's so damn hot that Gale keens high and bright in his throat, holds onto John like a damn lifeline "fuck baby," "God sweetheart, look at you" "yeah that's it, that's it doll" oh God I'm gonna be lightheaded

Gale is John's baby any day of the week you cannot tell me he's not

[messydoodlesyt]

SMG4 Crew Redesigns Part 2

HOLLLLLY CRAP THIS TOOK FOREVER!!! And I wanna blame Desti and her stupid tentacle hair, but honestly I think after Tari and Saiko I started to slow down because of outsides forces and just no general ideas forming for Melony.

So alright Tari!!! At least in the SMG4 Verse. I still gotta watch Meta Runner (especially because I wanna do a redesign of Belle at one point but she doesn’t really show up much aside from the YouTube arc plus it’s the last Glitch Productions show I gotta watch). But for this redesign I changed her hairstyle a bit with an opened up hoodie to show off the tank top. Couldn’t take away the iconic socks with flip flops she was rocking so kept that, but changed the pants a bit. I should’ve done it in the drawing, but the back of the hoodie has the meta runner logo. Nothing too crazy with her.

Next up Saiko! So decided to change up the colors a bit with her outfit giving her a cool ripped up pink skirt with less beige and more reddish jacket color. Then I changed her necklace to a choker and put the skull as a pin on the jacket. Then some piercings, a spiked belt with a heart skull cross buckle, painted black nails, and some combat boots! Also loved the headcanon people had of her being ripped so I did my best to draw that. Definitely need to practice drawing muscles more.

Okay so Melony- honestly it was tricky with her. Was not a fan of her canon design and tbh I’m still on the fence with her character- idk the OwO types of characters can get annoying pretty fast plus the childish behavior. But I mean she does have her moments where I’ve liked her (really wanna see more of her and Bob interacting) but yeah design wise I changed up the hoodie while still keeping the watermelon design while also giving her some black shorts, kept the striped socks she had for the college fit, and gave her green shoes. I also gave her a watermelon hairstyle for what I’m assuming are meant to be leaves on the top of her head. Then I did a small drawing of her deity form and gave my interpretation of it; even changing the hairband to fit the style.

Going down the line, Axol! So I initially went into all the Axol episodes thinking he was just a one note character that was a simp for Melony, but when I was first watching the arcs I was pleasantly surprised. He shows up before Melony for one thing, but even when she shows up he doesn’t turn into a one note character. Wish I got to have more of him. But anyways back to the design- I actually did like his design so I didn’t change too much, with just giving a turtle neck ish vibe, a beige belt, pockets on the pants to keep his blank papers and sketchbook, and gave him a tail since axolotls have tails.

Lastly Desti- good god it took her SO FRICKEN LONG TO DO!!! And it was mainly because of the tentacle hair!!! Horrible, never wanna draw again but probably will because I have so many ideas with this character. Like man I wish she was used more before the anime arc incident happened. So the hair I didn’t really change much, just had it flopped the other way. Her hoodie has a blue flare on the sleeves along with the hood part, ripped baggy pants, black boots, and a blue belt hanging out.

And that’s part 2! I gotta do more of the main ones like Bob and Boopkins but Bob already looks perfect the way he is and overall anything that’s not human is not my strong suit. Oh well.

Part 1 of SMG4 Redesigns

[fnlbeautifca]

M!Whitney x F!Reader / Contents: Foul/degrading language from a significant other, dubcon, standard Whitney behavior, 18+ content

(i have not written anything in a hot minute… pardon any poor writing and ooc things 😔)

You dropped your backpack next to your bed, flopping into the cheap sheets, kicking your shoes off and sending them sliding across the room. It had been a long, torturous day, like every other in the town that was Hell-on-Earth. Your skirt had been ripped to shreds at school, and the replacement cost an arm and a leg— which left a significant dent in the money that was supposed to be saved to pay off both yours and Robin’s debts to Bailey. Work wasn’t much better, with more customers than normal seemingly coming into the Cafe simply to make your job miserable. Safe to say, you were exhausted. You just wanted to cry into your sheets and never get up from your bed again.

Your tears soaked into your pillow, the sun setting over the town. You began to drift off to sleep, when something thunked against your window. You sat up on your knees, peeking through the curtains. A familiar face was looking back at you, and you nearly fell backwards at the sight! Whitney angrily motioned for you to open the window, and you sat up, unlocking it, and letting him in.

“Fuckin’ finally!” He groaned, pulling himself through the window and onto your bed. You shushed him, fearing someone would hear— especially Bailey. Whitney lowered his voice, “I thought I told ‘ya to just leave the fuckin’ thing open. D’ya know how much of a pain it is to climb up that goddamn wall?”

Before you could answer, you were pulled down on top of Whitney, his arms wrapped around your waist. You really hoped he hadn’t come for sex— you laid your head on his chest, eyes falling closed. You were exhausted.

“Sorry…” you mumbled. Whitney grunted, hand wandering down to your uniform’s skirt, messing with the fabric. Before long, his fingers slipped under it, pulling at your underwear. Your eyes shot open, and you smacked his hand away— you probably shouldn’t have done that. “N-Not tonight, please…”

Whitney sat up, visible eye glaring at you. You swallowed dryly. Surely he’d understand! It’s not like you were telling him you’d never have sex with him again— but… he did get pretty upset when you denied him…

“You’re my girlfriend,” Whitney jabbed a finger into your tummy, making you yelp, “the fuck d’ya mean ‘no’?”

Oh, he was definitely upset. You felt sweat start to drip down your neck. “I-I mean— I’m just… I’m, um, r-really tired… and, um, I’m sorry, bu-but…” With every word that tumbled out of your mouth, you could feel his eyes narrow even more, and you gaze kept drifting lower from his eyes, until you were nervously staring at his hoodie. “… mu-maybe tomorrow…?”

You could feel Whitney’s eyes on you, and after a few tense moments, you were shoved back onto the bed. The springs squeaked under you as your boyfriend leaned over you.

“No, I’m hard now. What good is a slut if they can’t even get you off?” He asked, flipping up your skirt. You watched in shock for a minute, before trying to scoot away. However, you were kept firmly in place

“Whitney, please…” He knew of all the things you’ve been subjected to! You thought he toned the forcefulness down after asking you out! Your hands were shaking, what could you do? If you screamed for help, Bailey might probably throw Whitney out. But then, Whitney would be really upset with you. You didn’t want your boyfriend to be mad. “O-Okay… I’m- um, s-sorry…”

“Good girl,” he gave a sadistic smile, tugging your panties to the side, and fiddling with the buckle on his belt, “Look, I’ll be nice. You won’t even have to do any of the work. Lay there and take it, like a good bitch.”

As Whitney pulled his pants down, your eyes went to the window. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him in tonight. You felt him push into you, and with no preparation, pain radiated from your hole. You whimpered, Whitney leaning down to kiss you while he slowly pushed the rest of himself inside, groaning. Your hands tangled in his hair, letting him to what he wanted to. It was better, to just let Whitney do things his own way.

Whitney’s tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring a part of you he’s done a million times before. His hips pull back, and then snap forward, making you whine in pain. He begins at a moderate pace, which then becomes faster and faster with each minute that crawls by.

“If ‘ya didn’t want it,” Whitney paused, slamming his hips forward, making a squelching noise, “‘ya wouldn’t be so goddamn wet…” He laughed, and a few tears dripped down your face. Whitney huffed, a hand grabbing your chin, and squeezing your cheeks, making you look at him.

“Look, slut, if ‘ya don’t stop with the fuckin’ water works, I’ll give ‘ya something to really cry about. So shut it.” He watched you for a moment, then squeezed your face, “Do ‘ya fuckin’ understand?”

You quickly nodded, and Whitney let go of your face. He began to pick up his pace, biting into the skin of your neck, and slamming into you so hard it hurt. Your arms wrapped around him, wet face buried in his hoodie. Heat pooled in your tummy, and your whimpers turned to quiet moans. Whitney’s hips began to stutter, and with a final thrust, he buried himself inside of you, cumming as you also released, nails digging into his clothing.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he pulled out, flopping back on the bed, head landing on your pillow. As he lit a cigarette, you crawled next to him, cuddling into his side. The nasty smell of smoke made you cough, but Whitney’s hand petting your head made it ever so slightly more tolerable. Hopefully he just… listened better next time…

—————

eek… there was no proof reading or rough drafting ^^ i hope this isnt terrible…

[solaiced]

CASE 13: BABY CHOSO NEEDS HIS MOMMY.

!content!: choso cries because of a movie, couch sex, mommy kink, and comfort?

wc:693

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Choso, are you.. crying?" Your surprised voice rings through the air.

You and Choso had been watching a movie involving a mother going through hell to get her child back in a post-apocalyptic world, and he just fell quiet, sniffling. You worriedly brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"N-no, it's just.." He was lying. his voice watery and eyes wet.

"You don't have to lie, Cho..." You bring Choso's head close to your chest, your boobs cushioning him.

"It's just sad... Like... I can't explain it, my mom didn't do this for me... " He sounds envious, hands exploring your body as a way to relieve stress.

"Aw, Cho-baby, I can be your mommy." You joke, hoping to lighten his mood.

However, it's his eyes that light up, peering up at you through wet, dark lashes. He smiles softly.

"You would?" He asks, eyes bright with joy.

"Yeah, I would." You giggle, happy that he's happy. In an instant, you're flipped over, hands pinned by his.

"Well, mommy," he sniffles, face close to yours. "Wipe my tears, please. Make me feel better." He pouts dramatically, nuzzling your face submissively.

"Yeah I’ll replace your tears of sadness with tears of joy, mm?" you kiss his cheek affectionately

Maybe, he shouldn't have said that.

Maybe, he shouldve kept quiet.

Maybe then, he wouldn't be begging for mercy. To cum. His hips buckle, hands itching to touch you.

"Cho-baby, ah." You moan, bouncing on his lap, on his cock.

"Muh-Mommyy-" He whines, trying to not disobey and touch you. Oh God.

"You wanna touch me, huh- don't you?" You tease, rolling your hips just right.

And fuck, if that didn't affect him.

"Yah - Yeah, please, mommy. "He drags out the last sylable, head thrown back in pleasure. Choso swore he saw stars when you grinded on him so good, he started babbling.

"Mo-Mommy, mommy, please, let me cum, let me touch you -ohh, mommy!" His dignity is definitely in the dust, now.

This was so humiliating but... hot, to him, at the same time.

"Are you crying?" You mock, grabbing, his face and kissing away his tears. "These better be happy tears, okay?" You hum as he groans, acknowledging your words tiredly.

“Y-yeah, I'm happy, ma," The dark haired man replies, eyes shut to focus on not cumming. You caress his cheek, keeping a steady rhythm, bouncing off his thighs. The only sounds in the room were wet flesh slapping against wet flesh, Choso's moans and your whispered praises. You feel yourself get wetter, you were definitely about to cum.

"Cho, Choso." you breathe, giggling. His eyes flutter open, attentive. "I'm about to cum, aren't you happy? Mommy's gonna cum." You lick the tears persistently flowing down Choso’s red cheeks. Such a crybaby.

"Yes, yes, mommy, I'mso-hic-happy'" He hiccups, teeth bared in what seems like a smile. Well, at least he's trying.

"You can cum, too, fill mommy up,

‘kay?" You coo, both hands on his chest to balance your self. He nods eagerly, drool at the corner of his mouth. He was so cute, all disheveled.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you mommy!” Choso whimpers, hands searching for something else to touch apart from you. But ever the merciful Goddess that you are, you place both of his hands on each of your hips, making sure they were steady.

He whispers a ‘thank you’ once more, and you clench, making him groan.

“Gonna cum," You announce, out of breath. "Ready?" He shakes his head but you ignore him, stomach knotting in preparation.

The pleasure builds, you clench, hard, and Chose tightens his grip on you, sure to leave marks. Just when you feel you're about to cum, finger rubbing your clit and rocking against Choso, he erupts, body lifting up like a man possessed and loud cries ripping out of him. The sticky liquid he produces stays inside of you, plugged by his cock.

He flops back against the couch, spent. You were almost there.

And he ruined it. He had to pay.

"I didn't tell you to cum." Just then, Chose felt true fear because of you for the first time ever.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Flip flops (feat Sinu)

G/N. Sinu finds something unpleasant.

Flip flop flip flop flip flop-

Shit. The telltale sign that there's someone close by, and not just anyone.

"What is it-"

"Wait." Jake's hand clamps over your mouth as he casts a shifty glance round the corner.

Your eyes narrow. Seriously, what the hell. One moment he’s kissing you all sloppy and urgent and you’re trying to undo his belt buckle, now this is how he treats you. Um, rude much?

Not to mention the location. Ew. Completely unlike him and real romantic. Ugh, if he wasn't so cute and if you weren't so horny-

.

.

"Huh? What's this?" Sinu peers down the alley and locks eyes with you.

Time freezes as he stops mid stride to take in your form, then his gaze flickers over to Jake. Are you both... really?! 

"Are you kidding, Y/N! Jake!"

"What, we're just talking! We aren't allowed to talk?" You try for indignant outrage at the unfair and totally inaccurate accusation-

"Jake's fly is down."

You look over. His fly is indeed down.

Well, shit. Caught red-handed. 

Jake whirls round. You look to the heavens, shaking your head as you hear his fiddling and the zipper being yanked up.

"You both know better," Sinu sighs, "And the dumpster is right there."

You look over. The dumpster is indeed right there also.

Sinu’s not wrong, but when the urge grips you both then all logic and rationale goes flying out the window… even when it’s pretty certain this particular session would have led to salmonella.

Ah, whatever. There’s no going back now.

Giving him a salute, "It's called Passion, Sir!"

Jake joins in, grin pulling at his lips as he also salutes, "Yes, Sir!"

This is the angle you’re both going for?! Twisting his own goddamn words?!

Sinu's jaw drops open, toothpick falling to the ground. You kids are going to be the death of him.

[pablitosgf]

beach day ! — op81

pairings ! — oscar piastri!girl dad x fem!mom!filipina!reader

warnings ! — none, pure fluff

info ! — in which oscar, y/n, and their daughter ilia have a fun beach day.

authors note ! — SEND REQUESTS PLEASEE IM BEGGING 🙏🏼 (yes im this desperate!) this is based on the y/n and ilia from my 3 part mini series, which are what?!, shock!, and again?! so make sure to check those out if you'd like <3, however this can be read as a standalone

format ! — writing

“Are you ready for the beach, my love?” you said with a warm smile rolling onto your lips, looking at your daughter with full adoration. She had your dark eyes, she had brown hair (though they weren't as dark as yours, hers was lighter), but she had her father's fair skin tone, no touch of your morena skin tone. Not even a sprinkle. She was as light as day. A smile rolled onto her lips too as your daughter, Ilia, happily nodded.

“I’m so excited! Will I be able to make sand castles with you and Papa?” Ilia exclaimed, jumping in place as your hands clasped with her small ones like a puzzle piece. Her excitement only made your smile wider, she and Oscar were your life, your happiness, and your will to keep on going. Your daughter had her swimsuit on already, it was blue (her favorite color) with frills, and had a woven hat on.

You nodded looking down at her, “Of course, we’ll make it very big. Won't we Mahal?” you said, looking at your husband who just came down after he finished getting ready. Oscar wore his cap (no, not his McLaren one if that's what you were thinking) a creme off-white button-up shirt, and some blue shorts.

His eyes met yours and soon Ilia’s he too nodded with a smile, “Yes, it’ll be very big and taller. Taller than you, Ilia.” Ilia gasped, she raised her right hand up high to show how tall it would be, then looked up at her hand. You and Oscar chuckled.

“This tall?” Ilia asked, tilting her head to the right as she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Yes, that tall anak.”

“So tall it’ll reach the sky?” she said as her eyes went big, making you and your husband chuckle again.

“Yes, darling.” Oscar stepped into the conversation again.

“Okay then, let's go!” Ilia said, her hand still clasped with yours As you held onto the bag filled with toys and other beach day necessities. Your eyes widened as she ran to the door, dragging you along with her.

“Woah, woah! Okay, Missy!” you chortled, unlocking the door and pushing it open. You followed Ilia as she went to the car, urging you to open it. “Wow, I guess you’re super duper excited!”

“Of course I am, Mama!” Ilia climbed into the car once you opened it, waiting for you to buckle her into her carseat. Closing the door, you open the passenger and climb inside, waiting for Oscar to come. In the meantime, you set the beach bag down in a safe place. Once Oscar arrived he began driving his way to the beach, passing scenic roads.

You and Oscar were conversing with Ilia about what she did during preschool, she was pretty extroverted and talkative, but you and Oscar definitely were not. I guess it’s true, two introverts make one extrovert.

You looked outside your side of the window, “Ilia, look we’re at the beach!” you pointed at the sand-filled grounds and the people in the water splashing and playing. Glancing into the mirror you saw Ilia shake in her car seat, you laughed to yourself and nudged Oscar to look into the mirror as well. Oscar locked eyes with yours and burst out laughing.

Eventually, the three of you got settled, and you were lying down reading a book with flip-flops and the bag beside you as Oscar and Ilia tried to make a really big sand castle. Occasionally you looked up from your book to see what progress they had, and to say the least Oscar did 99% of the work while Ilia was just patting it carefully here and there and praising Oscar. You smiled to yourself.

You could tell Ilia was getting bored by watching Oscar shape the sand castle. “Papa, can we just go play in the water now?” she whined.

“One minute, honey,” he said, finishing his last touches. When he was finally finished he stood up after a long time of not and smiled happily. “Isn’t it nice, Ilia?”

“Yeah, Papa it’s super nice. Can we go now?” Ilia said in a hurry, she looked over at you, “Mama, want to come?” she asked, having a hand out for you.

“Of course, my love!” you grasped her hand and Oscars as you three ran to the water.

You splashed Ilia and Oscar in the water, and you got payback from the two of them. You smiled happily as you watched Ilia get on Oscar’s back. This was the life, you were happy this was your life. You wouldn't change it for anything.

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 678,936 others

yourusername family beach day 🌊

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oscarpiastri that sand castle looks amazing i wonder who made that!!

⤷ yeah, i wonder! i think it was ilia.

oscarpiastri yeah uh no, she did nothing.

⤷ OSCAR

oscarpiastri what? 🧍🏼‍♂️

lilymhe tell lia i miss her🥹💔

⤷ she misses her auntie lily 🩷

kellypiquet maybe we could have her and penny have a playdate?

⤷ omg, yes!! message me rn <3

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do one where Matt’s daughter is like 13 and gets in a soccer injury, like breaks a bone or like tears her ACL, and all the triplets help her through recovery, Love your fics 💗

thank you! i actually really love this fic so i hope it gets some love !!!! it’s pretty long so BUCKLE UP!

“One Step at a Time”

Matt Sturniolo x Daughter!Reader (13)

Triplet Family Fluff / Hurt + Comfort

You’d always been the sporty one—Matt’s little athlete.

Cleats on, hair tied back, shin guards barely strapped before you were sprinting across the field. Matt was at every game, sometimes dragging Chris and Nick with him, screaming louder than anyone else on the sidelines. You lived for it.

Until the day everything stopped.

⸻

It happened fast.

One second, you were chasing down a pass on the turf.

The next—your knee twisted weird, and pain shot through your whole leg. You dropped like a rock, clutching it, sobbing before you even hit the ground.

Matt jumped the fence to get to you. He didn’t care who yelled at him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay—I’m here,” he whispered, holding your hand tight as tears streamed down your face. “I got you, baby. We’re gonna fix this.”

⸻

Torn ACL.

Three words that flipped your world upside down.

No soccer for months.

Surgery. Crutches. Pain.

And worst of all, that helpless feeling. Like your body betrayed you.

The first week was the hardest. You barely wanted to talk. Your knee was wrapped and elevated, and Matt had to help you with everything. You hated it.

But Matt? He never left your side.

He slept on the floor next to your bed the first few nights. He carried you to the bathroom. He made the other two come over with snacks and movies every day.

⸻

One afternoon, you sat slumped on the couch, hoodie swallowed over your face, a tear streak drying on your cheek.

Chris flopped beside you with a sigh. “Alright. You’ve been moping long enough. I brought cookies. I also brought zero pain meds, because I’m not legally allowed, but I am bringing the vibes.”

You sniffled. “I don’t want vibes.”

Nick sat on the other side. “Too bad. Vibes are mandatory. Plus, you’ve got the cool knee brace now. You’re like a cyborg.”

Chris gasped. “Dude. You’re Robo-Sturniolo.”

You rolled your eyes, but a tiny smile cracked through.

Matt peeked in from the kitchen, seeing it, and smiled to himself. Little victories.

⸻

Recovery was long.

PT sessions. Learning to walk again. Rebuilding trust in your own legs. You had days where you cried. Days where you screamed. Days where you told Matt you wanted to quit soccer forever.

But he never let you give up.

“Look how far you’ve come,” he’d say, rubbing your back while you sobbed in frustration. “You’re stronger than you know, and we’re right here. All three of us. Always.”

Nick made you laugh during stretches, holding your crutches like a sword and pretending to be your knight.

Chris brought you iced coffee after every PT appointment and let you rant.

And Matt—he was your rock. Your biggest cheerleader. Your soft place to land.

⸻

Six months later. You jogged—jogged—onto the field with your brace and a whole stadium of nerves.

The triplets sat in the bleachers, yelling their lungs out. Chris waved a “GO CYBORG GO” sign he made out of printer paper and duct tape. Nick had a vuvuzela. Matt just sat there, eyes glassy, hands over his heart.

You didn’t score that game.

You didn’t even play more than fifteen minutes.

But it was everything.

And after, when you limped off and collapsed into Matt’s arms, sweaty and sore and smiling—he kissed your forehead and whispered:

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You never gave up.”

Absolutely—here’s a follow-up where Matt’s daughter experiences a setback in her recovery. It’s emotional, soft, and full of comfort from the triplets:

⸻

You’d worked so hard.

Six months of PT. Stretching. Strength training. Crying. Fighting.

And finally—finally—you’d made it back to the field.

Your minutes were limited. Your brace still hugged your knee like armor. But you were out there. Running. Kicking. Living again.

Then came that one game.

A weird step on the grass. Your foot slipped. Your balance shifted.

Your stomach dropped.

And just like that—your leg gave out again.

⸻

You didn’t cry right away.

You didn’t want to cry. Not in front of everyone. Not in front of your team.

But Matt was at your side in seconds, crouched beside you on the turf, his eyes searching yours with quiet panic.

“Tell me where it hurts,” he whispered, voice low, calm, steady—like he was trying to keep both of you from breaking.

“My knee,” you choked out. “It—something popped. I didn’t—I didn’t even do anything wrong this time.”

⸻

It wasn’t a full tear.

But it was a setback. A big one.

No soccer for another six weeks. Back to the brace. Back to rest.

It felt like someone pressed rewind on all your progress, and you hated the world for it.

⸻

That night, you sat in your room, hoodie over your head, lights off, and refused to speak to anyone. You ignored Matt’s knock. Chris’s texts. Even Nick’s dumb memes he sent to cheer you up.

You were tired of smiling. Tired of “you’re so strong.”

Tired of pretending this wasn’t destroying you inside.

And then…

The door creaked open.

“Can I sit?” Matt asked softly.

You didn’t say anything. Just shrugged, your eyes still locked on the dark ceiling.

He sat down beside your bed anyway. Not forcing you to talk. Just being there.

“I know you’re mad,” he said gently. “I know you feel like everything you worked for got ripped away again. And you have every right to be upset. But I need you to know something.”

You blinked, throat thick with tears.

“This doesn’t erase anything you’ve done. Every stretch, every step, every time you pushed through when you didn’t want to—none of that disappears because of today. Setbacks suck, but they’re still part of the journey. And you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Your lip trembled, and suddenly the words burst out.

“I feel like a failure, Dad. I’m so tired of being broken.”

Matt’s face crumpled, and he pulled you into his arms without saying a word. You sobbed into his shoulder, and he held you like you were still five years old and scared of the dark.

“You’re not broken, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re healing. And healing isn’t a straight line.”

⸻

The next morning, Chris and Nick barged into your room with a mini “Welcome Back to the Couch” party.

Chris held a tray of your favorite snacks and yelled, “Injury Queen Rises Again!”

Nick made you a playlist called “Songs to Kick ACL’s A**” and played them obnoxiously loud until you laughed through your tears.

Matt just stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you smile again.

⸻

You’d be okay.

Not today. Maybe not tomorrow.

But soon.

Because healing wasn’t about getting it right the first time.

It was about showing up, over and over again—with your people beside you.

⸻

It had been nearly ten months since the first injury.

Three since the setback.

And now, finally—finally—you were cleared to play without restrictions.

You stood on the sidelines in full uniform, hands on your hips, knee brace gone, nerves crawling under your skin like fire. The coach called your name, and you jogged onto the field to cheering parents, stomping feet, and—of course—the triplets losing their minds in the bleachers.

⸻

Matt was standing, arms crossed, trying so hard to play it cool. But you could see the tears already pooling in his eyes.

Nick was recording. “LET’S GOOOOO!”

Chris held up a massive homemade sign: ‘MY NIECE IS BETTER THAN YOUR WHOLE TEAM.’

(You weren’t even sure how that worked, but it was peak Chris.)

⸻

The whistle blew.

You ran. You passed. You dribbled.

Every step felt like reclaiming a piece of yourself you thought was gone forever.

And then—it happened.

A breakaway.

The ball came to you like it was meant to.

You darted forward, heart hammering, defenders chasing your heels, goalie stepping out—

And with one perfect kick, it soared straight into the net.

Goal.

⸻

The whole field erupted. But all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

You dropped to your knees, overwhelmed. Not from pain this time—but from relief. From joy. From knowing you had done the thing everyone said might take years.

You looked to the sidelines, and there was Matt—full-on crying now, hand over his mouth, eyes locked on you like you were the center of his whole universe.

Chris tackled Nick in celebration.

Nick yelled, “I’M POSTING THIS ON EVERY PLATFORM. SHE’S HIM!!!”

Matt ran onto the field the second the game ended. He didn’t care if it was allowed or not—he scooped you up into a bear hug and spun you around.

“I am so proud of you,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You never gave up. You did it. You did it.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, crying just as hard. “I did it, Dad.”

⸻

That night, they all took you out for ice cream to celebrate.

Matt made a toast with a plastic spoon. “To the strongest girl I know—my daughter. You came back stronger, braver, and somehow even cooler than before.”

Nick added, “To be fair, she was already cooler than all of us.”

Chris grinned. “Speak for yourself, bro. I’m the one who made the sign.”

You laughed, holding your dad’s hand tight under the table.

The road had been long. Painful. Frustrating.

But this moment?

It made every second worth it.

⸻

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ!!! If it's okay, for the first kiss prompt could I humbly ask for

"are you sure about this" with our voice king, Sev?

Or!!

their hearts stopping when they hear someone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act ?) with Tup?

Whichever one inspires you more! Please and thank you 💙

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask @secondaryrealm! It was so fun to get back into the swing of writing Sev. You’ll notice that I’m incapable of writing him without mentioning his voice. Voice kink gonna voice kink. Prompt is in purple!

Pairing: Sev x Reader (GN)

Rating: T, but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 519

Warnings and tags: fluff, mentions of vomit

Summary: You do Sev a solid.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Are you sure about this?” Sev’s deep voice rumbled in your ear, sending a tingle of awareness across your neck.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Kriff, no.”

He smirked and slid his helmet into place. “Too bad.”

Without warning, he spun you around and tackled you, sending you both flying out of the LAAT/i and into the abyss as his arms clamped around your body.

You shrieked, too terrified to be embarrassed by the sound. “Oh, my gods, I’m gonna die!”

You clung to Sev, burying your face against his chestplate as you squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your jaw to try to keep from screaming again.

Sev’s low, modulated chuckle sounded through his helmet speaker. “Relax, I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Carrying another person?!” you demanded raggedly, still not opening your eyes.

“Uh… no,” he admitted. “That’s why we needed volunteers for the training exercise.”

Your eyes snapped open, not that it mattered, since all you could see was Sev’s armor and helmet.

“Sev,” you asked nervously, “how many times have you done this while carrying somebody?”

“This is the first. I think it’s going well.”

“I can’t believe I let Scorch talk me into this,” you groaned.

“Everyone who’s ever met Scorch has said that at some point.”

You felt your weight shift as he adjusted the flight path of his jetpack, and your stomach flip-flopped. Gods, I think I’m gonna hurl. Please, please don’t let me hurl on him, you prayed silently to the Force.

“Don’t drop me,” you begged.

“Even if I did, the tether would keep you close.” Sev seemed to sense you didn’t find that as reassuring as he thought you would, and he tightened his fingers on you briefly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

True to his word, he soon landed the pair of you safely on the ground. As he released you, your knees buckled, and he caught you just before you collapsed. He yanked off his helmet with his free hand, and you heard it thud to the ground as he tilted your head so he could see your face.

“You okay?” he asked, scanning you quickly for injuries.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said shakily. “I just need a minute.”

You willed your legs to work as you tried not to stare at his deep, gorgeous eyes or his stupid, perfect mouth that you’d been trying to ignore for months. Why does he smell so kriffing good? He has no right to smell like that. 

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, think I can stand now.”

Sev didn’t loosen the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb as he held your head. You gazed into each other’s eyes, as though suspended in time, and then he closed the distance between you as his lips met yours. His lips felt exactly as soft and stupidly perfect as you’d imagined, and you sucked in a tiny, broken gasp when the kiss ended far too soon.

“Wow,” you sighed. “I’m so glad I didn’t hurl on you.”

---

Looking for spicy Sev x reader fics? Allow me to plug my incredibly spicy fic, “Turn It Up When You’re Gone” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3. The fourth and final chapter will be dropping next month!