#little blue dres

[kirstysdreams]

Larissa

[paperglader]

I know it’s been months but the moment where alicent fucking steps forwards and says “come with me” to rhaenyra like she’s ready to RISK IT ALL, and then rhaenyra stares at her like they’re fifteen once more and so stupidly in love . yeah, still not over that.

[dear-slim]

birthday surprise - m.m

Warnings: Smut, 18+, no protection 👀, blowjob

Pairing: Eminem x fem!reader

A/N - Still using ‘Em’ as a nickname and it’s 2000s Eminem

@lifeisabitchsoareyou @anjee0

You’d managed to get Hallie to go to bed a little early under the guise of having some ‘big plans’ tomorrow, which you needed to sort out. Thank goodness she wasn’t a brat, anyways, right? Em was out at the studio, messing round with some tracks with Dre and 50, and he’d messaged you to say he’d be back soon.

But when did? He’d be in for a surprise and a half, to say the least.

And surprised he was, when he found your bedroom door slightly ajar, candles illuminating the room, and you, wearing a gorgeous dark blue lingerie set, waiting for him with wide, doe eyes. “Well, look what we have here,” he said slowly, eyes narrowed almost suspiciously.

You hummed, brushing a strand of hair over your ear as your diamonds earrings caught the yellow light of the candles, sending an almost angelic glow across your face. “Hallie asleep?” he asked, wanting to make sure as you nodded, moving to sit on your knees on the bed as his eyes dropped to your chest.

“Suits you,” he said, voice deep and almost longing as he traced your curves in the set, his eyes darkening, pupils dilated, “almost don’t wanna take it off ya,”. You hummed, eyes locked on his expression as you blushed. “Yeah, but if you don’t take it off, you don’t get to see what’s under,”.

“Fair point,” he said, one hand wrapping round your throat so he could push you onto your back, your head with the pillow as he threw his shirt off, his body already shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. You let him tug the bra off of your body, taking your tits into his hands as he slowly worked on pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“Wish it was my birthday everyday,” he growled, his voice deeper than usual as he tugged your panties to the side, his index finger tracing over your sensitive clit as you gasped, body jerking slightly at the feeling of it, his other hand moving to unbuckle his trousers.

His cock sprung up hard in his palm, close to your face as he ran the tip over your lips, your eyelashes fluttering as your closed your eyes. “Fuck, you look so beautiful,” Em hissed, holding one hand on your cheek, the other holding his cock for you to take small kitten licks round his throbbing head.

You let out a small moan, enabling him to slide his cock into your mouth, a bulge in the side of your cheek as his head hit the back of your throat, the sound of you gagging sounding like damn heaven to him. You moved your head slowly, almost tantalisingly slowly, eyes staring up at him from your placed on the bed.

Your movements reciprocated his - whenever his finger sped up round your sensitive bundle of nerves, your tongue sped up round his head, tracing the vein along the underside of his thick member. “Turn over,” he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, your legs squeezing together as he moved his hand too.

You whined at the loss of contact but complied, your back facing him as he admired how you looked, his hands coming to trace the soft flesh of your ass, tongue dipping down to lick up your thighs. “Need you so bad,” you gasped, back arching at the feeling of his tongue tracing small, almost teasingly slow circles round your clit.

Em was more than happy to give you want you wanted, slowly running his throbbing tip through your folds, coating himself in your juices before he slid in with much ease, his hands squeezing firmly and harshly at your ass. “Can come home to this every day,” he groaned as you moaned.

His hand came to push your head down into the mattress, partially to stifle your moans so Hallie didn’t wake up, and partially because he enjoyed the power play. You hissed as he started moving, your cunt clenching round his hard member, slick and easy as he pushed in and out of you.

“So fucking tight, Y/N,” Em groaned, his cheeks flushed red as you nodded, no words forming on your tongue. You hissed again as he reached his hand between your legs to caress your clit. “Just wanted to see how wet you are,” he mumbled, “always do wet f’me, aren’t you?”.

Anyone would be soaking if they had a man like Em.

You nodded, almost frantically, as you both chased your orgasms, Em’s hips ricocheting into yours, his hips snapping against yours thighs from behind, your eyes rolling as your lips parted. “Gonna c-cum,” you managed to choke out as he nodded, words seeming to die on his tongue.

Your cunt clenched round him once more as your heat enveloped his cock like a warm greeting, eyes rolling back as your orgasm hit, body falling forwards as he held your hips in his so he could finish. He didn’t pull out, not that you cared, as his cum spilt in thick, hot ropes down your thighs, spilling down your legs.

Your body spasmes slightly, collapsing in half-awe at the god-like orgasm the man behind you had just given you. “That’s a great present, darling,” he smiled, kissing your neck softly as you nodded, too tired to formulate a sentence.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: The Answers We Wait For

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)

(In which a writer's busy schedule somehow still had time for her favorite obsession)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 7.0K (it's very on-brand that my busiest week would produce the longest chapter)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies :) How I managed to pull this off is between me and God at this point but here we are. I know it's been an interesting day to say the least, so I'm hoping me living up to my promises can be a silver lining. Quick note that I already fucked up the timeline at some point and Paige Olivia have actually been divorced for almost 3 years. I'll change that eventually. I actually didn't even try to really edit this chapter and in the choice between editing tomorrow and giving it to y'all today, I chose the latter. So please help a girl out and point out my typos/mistakes if you spot them and I will also eventually go back and edit. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forwards. Have a lovely week my loves <3

December 2027

Marriage and weddings had never been at the forefront of Paige’s mind. To be completely honest, for most of her life, there wasn’t much occupying her brain other than the court under her feet and the basketball in her hands. But the couple of times she had let herself picture it, she’d always thought that she’d have a Fall wedding, probably in Minnesota, maybe even on a basketball court. An indoor winter wedding in Texas had never once crossed her mind. She’d imagined vibrant fun bouquets made of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, not the elegant red and white roses arrangements that were currently being placed along a far too heavily decorated aisle. Instead of vintage wines and carefully constructed fancy cocktails, she’d thought it would be nice to have spiked shirley temples and maybe even blue and white jello shots. She had expected to have a quiet ceremony followed by a vivacious gathering of everyone she loved. It had never even occurred to her that her wedding would become a public spectacle with People's magazine in attendance.  She’d pictured a party, not an event. 

Most of all she’d dreamt of getting married to a girl with dark eyes that could see all of Paige’s flaws and a soft smile that promised she’d love Paige despite them all. 

But the thing about dreams is that they’re fleeting trains that travel through the tracks of your mind when you’re asleep, and when you wake up, reality is nothing but a devastating train crash. 

Paige sighs, forcing herself out of her own head, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She looks pretty. Brittany had found her a nice white wedding suit -fitted to perfection- matching it with dainty silver jewelry. Paige normally liked her outfits a little looser but Olivia loved it and Paige likes that Olivia loves it. Her hair is styled in a bun, with two straightened strands to highlight her face. She thinks she might have preferred to have them curled in the front but Olivia had sweetly insisted on them being straight because hers would be curly and they had to complement, not match. Paige doesn’t really understand the difference or the importance but she thinks if Olivia wants it like that then she's fine with it. She thinks the bold red lipstick heavily coating her mouth makes her look a little bit like a vampire out of a badly directed 90’s horror movie but Olivia had said it was necessary so that the lights and cameras didn’t wash her face out. 

Paige looks pretty. She just doesn’t really look like Paige. 

“What do you think Drewski?” she asks, twirling to face her stone-faced brother who’s sitting on the couch, with a bout of enthusiasm that rings hollow to her own ears, “do I look gorgeous or what?”

“You look weird,” Drews says stiffly and Paige sighs. 

“Dr-” Paige is cut off by her younger brother sauntering over. A confused expression spreads over her features as Drew takes her hand and places it on his forehead, “uh- what are you doing?”

“Paigey, doesn't my forehead feel hot? I feel so sick,” the little boy whines, letting out a series of overzealous dramatized coughs. 

“Your forehead feels fine,” Paige says, slowly removing her hand.

“Well of course you’d think that. You’re not a doctor who knows how to feel foreheads correctly. I think we need to go to the hospital to see a real doctor. Like right now,” Drew pulls at Paige’s hand as she begins to catch onto what he’s trying to make happen. 

“You’re fine Drew.”

“I’m NOT. I’m very, very, very sick. So we have to leave right now. I could be contagious. I could be a danger to all these people,” Drew’s animated hands start to fly everywhere, “you can’t get married when your little brother’s sick. It’s- it’s just wrong. Bad juju or something like that. Everybody will understand that you just had to call off the wedding. For family reasons.”

“Drew-” Paige tries again, a hard pit settling in her stomach. 

“Are you worried cause you didn’t bring your car? That’s okay I’m sure Ice or KK will drive us but you can’t get married today Paigey. You just can’t,” his bottom lip trembles as the façade of illness slips and Paige feels her own eyes start to get glossy, “it’s not right Paigey. This is all wrong. She’s all wrong.”

“It’s not like that Drew. You just haven’t gotten to know-”

“I don’t want to know her,” Drew yells, “you don’t even know her. How can you get married to someone you’ve barely dated for a year. How can you do this to Az-”

“That’s enough,” Paige’s voice is eerily calm, as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “watch how you talk to me-”

“You’re being stup-”

“Drew Thomas I am not going to repeat myself again. Behave yourself. You’re not nearly old enough to be questioning what I do with my life,” it takes every inch of self-control Paige has to not let her voice shake. 

Her younger brother’s words feel like acid rain pelting against her already wounded skin. They slip into the gashes, mixing into her bloodstreams to create an army with the battalion of her own thoughts that have been hacking away at her heart for god knows how long. Paige wonders how long it’ll be before she finally bleeds out. 

“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.”

There’s nothing but silence as Paige opens and closes her mouth. And she doesn’t know if she’s trying to get words out or breathe air in; all she knows is that Drew might be squeezing her hands, but it feels like someone is strangling her lungs. 

She’s saved from having to say anything by a hesitant knock on the door. As Drew begrudgingly goes to open it, Paige scrambles to put herself back together. She closes her eyes, taking in three deep breaths before-

Drew gasps and Paige’s eyes fly open. With her back turned to the door, she can’t see who it is and something like hope starts to bloom in her chest, vines of maybe it’s her weaving through her ribcage. And as she turns around, they turn to dust; dust that floats up to her eyes and makes them tear up again as she stares dumbfoundedly at the two people standing somewhat awkwardly in her doorway. 

Paige had grown up an independent child. It wasn’t that her parents were neglectful or that they hadn’t loved her enough because they had. But at first it was the constant fighting and then it was the nurturing of a brand new family with new children and Paige had slipped through the cracks of oh she’s so mature we don’t need to worry about her. She had always had her parents as cheerleaders in the stands; no one was prouder of Paige than they were. But no one had bothered to force her to drink terrible tasting immunity boosters. No had patiently dyed her hair purple and pinky promised to like it even if it turned out terrible. No one had yelled at her for being in the gym till one a.m or woken her up at an ungodly hour to run drills. Not until she’d met a girl at 15 and that girl’s parents had decided that Paige was just as much theirs as their own daughter. 

And suddenly there were more people added to her cheering squad for her wins. But that’s not when Paige fell in love with Tim and Katie Fudd. It was when she lost and there was a nagging finger followed by a full breakdown of what she could do better next time and finally, a bear hug promising they’d help her do it. They’d been there every step and she’d sent the invitation, scared they wouldn’t show up, that they wouldn’t be there for this step, a step that inadvertently took her further away from them. But here they are anyway. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Katie says softly, her own eyes moist as she takes in the sight of the bride, “you look- you look absolutely stunning Paige.”

“You came,” Paige whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t know if you would.”

“Of course we came,” Tim exclaims but his normal boisterous voice doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic, “always told you we’d be front and center at your wedding.”

Because I was supposed to marry your daughter; I was supposed to become your daughter, officially. 

“I’m really glad you guys came,” Paige says, letting Katie wrap her into a warm hug. She only gets a second to let herself enjoy it before Drew’s asking a question that makes her stiffen. 

“Where’s Azzi?” 

It’s like there’s lightning wrapped in that one syllable and it strikes right through Paige’s heart, setting every inch of it ablaze with the flames of a name that used to feel like cotton candy on her tongue; now it feels like lava. 

“She couldn’t make it,” Tim says slowly and Paige knows she shouldn’t be surprised, let along disappointed that her ex wasn’t coming but there’s a string that snaps anyways. 

“Why not?” Drew asks petulantly. 

“The baby’s due next month,” Tim tells him gently, “she can’t fly.”

The air feels suffocating at the mention of the baby. She’d been scrolling mindlessly through her tiktok feed when the announcement had popped up. She still has it memorized. 

Golden State Valkyries superstar shooting guard Azzi Fudd announces pregnancy on Instagram; she’ll miss the upcoming WNBA season. 

For a moment the world had stopped as Paige had hurriedly switched apps to instagram. And there it was. A smiling picture of Azzi holding a sonogram. Paige doesn’t know how long she’d stared at the picture but she remembers that it was set against a white background and she remembers that Azzi was wearing a green top. And as she’d typed out a congrats! that blended in seamlessly with all the other felicitating comments on the post, Paige had wondered if Azzi had felt it too. She’d wondered if, when Azzi had left a similar congratulations <3 post on Paige’s engagement announcement, she’d felt something unravel too. She’d wondered if Azzi had felt this hollowness of and i guess this is us signing off on never getting forever with each other. 

“So Azzi’s not going to stop this wedding?” Drew’s voice is dangerously even as he rounds on Paige, “and you’re really going through with this?”

“Drew please” Paige says tiredly as Katie runs a soothing hand down her back. 

“You’re stupid. And she’s stupid. You’re all so freaking stupid,” Drew bursts out, stomping past the adults in the doorway, his anger palpable in every single word. 

“I got it,” Tim says, wrapping a wrist around Paige’s hand as she moves to follow her younger brother. He squeezes gently, a half-hearted smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay kid. It always is.”

Paige wishes she could just believe him, turn off the voices in her head and just be a kid who could take an adult’s word as gospel. But Paige is the adult now and believing no longer comes so naturally. 

“Hey,” Katie says after Tim runs after Drew, pulling Paige to sit with her on the couch, “I have a little wedding gift for you.

“Katie you don’t have-” Paige begins, watching as the older woman pulls out a velvet box from her bag, placing her phone on the table next to her. 

“Oh hush. I told you I’d give this to you,” Katie chides as she hands the velvet box. Paige’s eyes glisten as she opens it to find a familiar purple amethyst necklace. She’s flooded with the vivid image of her and Azzi on a random day in lockdown helping Katie organize her minimal jewelry. Paige had fallen in love with this necklace and Azzi had her eyes set on a pink topaz. It was fitting to say the least and Katie had promised them, with a glint in her eyes, that she’d give it to them as their something old on their wedding day. They’d been in between something and everything but Paige and Azzi had shared a shy smile over it anyways. 

“I can’t accept this,” Paige shakes her head trying to hand the box back but Katie dodges it expertly. 

“Yes you can. It’s basically a family heirloom and you, Paige Bueckers, are family,” Katie says firmly. 

“Katie-”

The older woman presses a kiss to Paige’s forehead as she starts to head out, “you’re always gonna be family Paige. Always.”

Katie’s words act like a band-aid but they’re not enough- maybe nothing will be enough- to fully heal the wound of today i was supposed to officially become a Fudd. 

A ringing noise interrupts Paige’s pity party and she starts half-heartedly digging around for her phone. She’s confused when she finds it because no one’s calling her and the room is still vibrating with noise. Crinkling her eyebrows, Paige’s eyes finally land on the couch side table, where Katie’s phone, clearly forgotten, is buzzing. 

Azzi’s CallerID flashes on the screen. 

Paige stares at the phone, rooted in place. She knows she shouldn’t pick it up, knows she should go return it. Still without a decision, Paige slowly starts to reach for it. And then it stops ringing and Paige goes still again, unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed. Swallowing, she takes another step. The phone rings again. A myriad of thoughts dance through Paige’s mind, opposing thoughts clashing with each other and making her head hurt. She lies to herself that it’s out of concern; that Azzi’s pregnant and this could be important. She lies to herself as she hits the green answer button that it’s not because she’s desperate to hear Azzi’s voice. 

“Mom?” Azzi sounds distraught when she picks up but Paige thinks it’s still her favorite sound any way, “Mom? I think I did something wrong. I can’t do this Mom. You’ve been gone a day and I’ve already fucked up. I don’t know what and I don’t know when but I think I fucked up. Maybe I ate something I wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it’s because I lay on my back instead of my side but Mom she hasn’t kicked all day and I can’t get Dr. Myers on the phone and I-”

“It’s a girl?” Paige breathes out. And suddenly she’s 22, sitting in a UConn apartment living room, grinning foolishly as Jana points out an AI picture that looks like the perfect mixture of her and Azzi. Azzi, who’s having a daughter. 

The woman in question is quiet and for a second Paige thinks that Azzi might hang up. 

“It’s a girl Paige,” Azzi says finally. 

“Are you- are you okay?” Paige asks slowly, trying not to dwell on how much she’s missed the way Azzi says her name. It’s been Bueckers every time they’ve seen each other this year and she’s never hated the sound of her last name more. 

“Yeah, I just-” Azzi sighs, her voice still a little frazzled, “I’m just being paranoid cause my Mom’s not here and my doctor’s not answering and the stupid baby hasn’t kicked all day,” she pauses, “sorry. I-I don’t mean to dump on you. Not today at least.”

“Az-”

“Where’s my Mom?”

“She- she’s probably outside. Think she left her phone here by accident. I can go find her but can I-” Paige hesitates, chewing at her lips in a way she knows Olivia hates, “can I help?”

“I don’t think-”

Paige shocks herself with her next words, “put the phone to your stomach.”

“What? Paige, did you hit your head in the last two seconds or something?”

“Just- just trust me,” she’s not really sure what she’s saying but now that she’s said, might as well commit to the bit, “I’mma talk sense into her. I saw it in a movie.”

“You saw it in a-” Azzi sighs and Paige can practically picture her rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know who’s more insane. You for coming up with the idea or me because I’mma follow through it,” there’s a bunch of static noise on the other side as Azzi adjusts herself, putting the phone on speaker and pressing it to her belly, “alright Dr. Bueckers work your magic.”

Paige is nervous as she speaks, “hey there little bean. I’m your-” she stops because what is she, “I’m your Paige,” she decides softly, “and I think- I think you should stop stressing your Mama out. She’s a bit of an overthinker so if you could just help her out, I think she’d really appreciate it. Because if- if you don’t she isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight and you don’t know this yet but when your Mama doesn’t get sleep, she’s kind of a bi-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses.

“Big baby,” Paige corrects, “she’s a big baby. And then she cries and it’s not a pretty sight-”

“Hey!”

“Sshhh Azzi I’m working my magic,” Paige scolds, “where was I? Oh yeah. She cries and it’s not a pretty sight because,’ her voice softens, “seeing your Mama cry is the worst thing in the world. I hate it and I know- I know you’re gonna hate it too because when you finally come out little bean, the first thing you’re gonna see is your Mama’s smile. And you’re gonna think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like I do,” a sob escapes on the other end of the line and Paige feels tears start to cascade down her own cheeks, “come on little bean, give us a little kick. Make your Mama smile.”

Time ticks by slowly and Paige closes her eyes, thinking maybe her desperate attempt to keep Azzi on the line had failed miserably. And then Azzi gasps, “she kicked. Oh my god Paige she kicked.”

Paige’s grin stretches her whole face and for a second it almost feels like she’s right there with Azzi, that instead of her ear being pressed to a phone, it’s pressed to Azzi’s belly. For a second she almost feels like she can feel the baby kicking. And then she opens her eyes. 

“Did it make you smile?” 

“Yeah, yeah it did,” Azzi admits and Paige can hear the relief in her voice. 

“I’m glad- I’m glad you have something that makes you smile.”

“Do you?” Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “do you have someone that makes you smile?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” and it’s not a complete lie. Olivia does make Paige smile. And maybe it’s not quite as big or bright or real but at least Olivia’s here to try. 

“Good. I-I’m also really glad you have that.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am Paige,” Azzi says quietly, “I want you to smile. I just- I just want you to be happy. Are you happy Paige?”

“I’m getting married today,” Paige says in lieu of an answer and she can hear Azzi’s breath hitch. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It’s a yes or no question,” Azzi presses.

“Then you answer it Azzi,” Paige bites out, “are you happy?”

“I”m-,” the younger girl lets out a sigh, “I’m content.”

Her answer makes Paige’s skin itch with irritation and she can’t stop it from seeping into her next question, “so you have no regrets then?”

“I didn’t say that,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s voice. 

“Do you or do you not regret saying no to marrying me Azzi?” Paige asks, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“Paige-”

“What? You gonna say it’s not that simple? It’s a yes or no question Azzi,” Paige mocks. 

“That’s not it-”

“Then what is?”

“You’re getting married Paige,” Azzi yells, “you’re getting married,” she repeats again, softer this time, “to someone else. And so it doesn’t matter how I feel. It isn’t fair of you to ask and it wouldn’t- it wouldn’t be fair of me to answer. Not today. Maybe one day- one day it'll be the right time but not today.”

“And what if it’s never the right time?” 

“Then maybe it’s a question you were never meant to know the answer to.”

There’s something final in the quietness that follows, like they’re having a moment of silence at a funeral for what never even got to be. 

It’s Azzi who speaks first. 

“You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.”

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.”

They let it left unsaid that they were supposed to be wives to each other, that they were supposed to be moms together. 

***

March 2033 

Paige doesn’t know how long she stands outside, staring down the winding road that had taken Stephie and Azzi away from her. The neighborhood is slowly waking up and if the woman across the street opens her curtains and thinks it’s a little strange that her new neighbor is standing like a statue on her front porch, she only raises a slight eyebrow before going back to her day. It takes almost twenty minutes before her head finally convinces her heart that no matter how much she stands outside, they’re not coming back. 

There’s a part of her that can admit that maybe Azzi had a point and maybe she shouldn’t have asked her to stay over last night. But Paige has never been known for her common sense, especially not when it comes to Azzi. Because truth be told, asking Azzi to stay the night was perhaps the least ridiculous of the thoughts that had invaded her mind last night. It was easy- too easy- to fall right back into whatever with Azzi. She’d done a good job pretending that the nightly facetime calls had been for Stephie’s benefit but the truth is that they had become just as much a necessity for Paige. She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face every night and the temptation to have that in person last night had been too hard to resist. And so she hadn’t. 

She makes it about three steps up the stairs, when the fort still set up in the living room catches her eye. And that’s when the first tear falls, and then the second and then the third until she thinks if she tried to swim in them, she’d probably drown. Paige abandons the idea of going up to her room and crawls back into the tent made of blankets. And she must be going insane because she swears she can still smell the faint scent of a toddler and Azzi’s lavender perfume on the pillow she cradles to her chest. It’s ridiculous to be so attached already. She knows that. Stephie isn’t hers but it feels like the little girl has crept underneath her skin, burrowing herself in a part of Paige’s heart that the blond didn’t even know was there. And Azzi- well no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much resentment Paige has held, the truth is that there’s a little patch of Paige’s soul  that will always belong to the younger woman. 

Paige barely registers herself falling asleep until there’s abrupt knocking on her door and she realizes she’s been cocooned in the fort for almost three hours. She hesitantly lets go of the pillow, groggily walking towards the door. It’s useless to pretend that she isn’t hoping it’s Azzi and Stephie on the other side, isn’t hoping that Azzi had realized her mistake, isn’t hoping to scoop both of them into her arms and fill the hollowness that’s been thrumming against her ribcage. God Paige has barely survived a month -a day if she’s completely honest- she doesn’t know how she’s going to survive this whole season. 

She crosses her fingers behind her back as she opens the door. 

“Hey,” Katie’s smiling face looks back at her, holding up a tray of coffee and a bag of something, “figured you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

Paige blinks stupidly as Katie lets herself in, moving through Paige’s house with ease and immediately locating the kitchen. She hands Paige a cup of coffee before ransacking through the bag and pulling out a glazed donut, “eat. I know you haven’t.”

“Does Azzi know you’re here?” Paige asks slowly before taking a bite out of her donut. 

Katie gives her pointed look, “who do you think gave me your address?”

“Is she- is she okay?” 

“You two are something you know,” Katie shakes her head, “you’re asking me if she’s okay and she sent me over here to make sure that you were okay.”

Paige feels her heart swell with after all this time, “she sent you?”

“I have breakfast with Azzi and Stephie every Sunday morning. Now imagine my surprise when I get there today and my oh so sweet and wonderful granddaughter isn’t talking to her mother. And so I forced the story out of Azzi and I barely understood a word she was saying through her tears-”

“She was crying?” Paige feels her lungs constrict. 

Katie shoots her an unimpressed look, “can I finish the story?”

“I don’t like this story. It has Azzi crying.”

“Yeah well the two of you seem to enjoy doing that to each other,” Katie cocks an unamused eyebrow and Paige flinches at the truth of it, “anyways I didn’t understand much of it but she was clear by the end. Seemed to think you needed someone, needed me and so here I am Paige.”

“Why is your daughter like this?” Paige demands, “how is she gonna make me cry and then send somebody else to wipe my tears.”

“Well I can leave-”

“Why couldn’t she just have stayed?” the blonde questions, “why does she always have to overthink things and make it more complicated? Why can’t she just listen to her heart once in her fucking life? Why can’t she just let herself live? Why is it always no with her and never just yes?”

Katie gives Paige a sad smile, reaching for her hand, “that’s why.”

“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child.

“Why is it always no with her and never yes?” Katie repeats, “c’mon Paige you know that’s not about last night.”

“It is,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“It’s not,” Katie says, gently squeezing Paige’s hand, “it’s about her saying no 8 years ago.”

“I’m ov-” Paige stops, withering under Katie’s glare, “okay maybe it’s a little bit about her saying no 8 years ago. But I’m allowed to still be upset about it. She broke my heart. I wanted forever and she walked away. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”

“Of course you’re allowed to be mad Paige but that’s exactly why Azzi had to go this morning. And it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have asked her to stay last night. You guys can’t just pretend none of it happened because it did. You’re still hurt Paige and ignoring that is gonna get you guys nowhere. Especially with Stephie involved.”

“So what are you saying? You’re saying me and Azzi should just be teammates? You’re saying I should just never see Stephie again,” even the thought of it makes Paige feel like she is laying down on a bed of thorns. 

“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes, “I’m not saying any of that. I’m saying maybe you just need to take it slower, with both of them, instead of having a goddamn sleepover the literal first night you’re in the same city. Besides,” Katie gives her a knowing smirk, “my granddaughter is obsessed with her Miss Buecks. Pretty sure she’d find a way to see you again no matter what.”

“Good,” Paige lets out her first smile of the day, “because I’d find a way to see her again too. She just- she’s kinda great isn’t she? Azzi did a good job with that one. She’s- she’s perfect,” she looks at Katie who’s regarding Paige with a thoughtful expression, “what? Do I have donut glaze on my face?”

“No, no it just- I’ve seen that expression before.”

“What expression?”

“The one you just had on your face while talking about Stephie,” Katie laughs to herself, “it’s the same one Tim had when he first met Azzi.”

***

“Oh my god. It’s Paige Bueckers. Can I have your autograph?” Steph Curry winks at Paige as she walks into his office. The Golden State legend had started an after-school basketball camp for kids in the Bay Area and as soon as he’d heard the news of Paige coming over to the Valkyries, he’d messaged her if she’d be interested in helping him out in the off-season. Paige had been more than willing to be a part of it, always invested in giving back to her community. If she’d been excited by the idea before though, today, after the worst sleep of her night as she tossed and turned to the hopeless depression of not having spoken to Stephie and Azzi for far too long, Paige really needed this distraction. 

“Don’t think you can afford my autograph,” Paige smirks lazily as she basically droops into the seat opposite him. 

Steph laughs goodnaturedly, “welcome to the Bay Area kid.”

“I’m a little old to be called a kid don’t you think? I’m nearly 25,” Paige grins, wiggling her eyebrows.. 

Steph shakes his head, “nah you’re always gonna be a kid to me. You and Azzi both,” he chuckles to himself, “even though Azzi’s got her own kid now. Have you met her?”

Well that distraction lasted 30 seconds, Paige thinks to herself as she forces a smile onto her face, “yeah. I’ve seen her around.”

“She’s cute as hell right? And she knows it. Little miss bossy pants has everyone wrapped around her fingers. Kinda reminds me of Riley,” there’s a goofy expression as Steph thinks of his daughter and Paige wonders if the same one is reflected on her face as she thinks about Stephie, “and she’s a natural at basketball. Only five and her shot’s already pretty good. You’ll see it today when she comes to camp. And she’s pretty good at defense-”

“I’m sorry what?” Paige blinks rapidly. 

“I know. What defense can a 5 year old play but it’s just the way she moves you know?” Steph tries to explain and Paige shakes her head. 

“Not that. Stephie- Stephie’s coming to camp?”

Steph grins large and proud, “of course she is. She was the first camper I signed.”

“Right,” Paige nods, giving the man in front of her a tight smile, “can you- can you excuse me for one second.”

As soon as Paige is outside of Steph’s earshot, she’s calling Katie; Katie who had sat at her kitchen counter yesterday and listened with a smile as Paige told her all about Steph’s camp. Katie who hadn’t said one word about Stephie being a part of said camp. Katie who was maybe grinning just a little too hard at the idea. 

“Did you know Stephie goes to Curry Camp?” Paige asks as soon as the line connects. 

“Hi Katie. Hi Paige. How was your day? Oh mine was good Paige, thanks for asking, how was yours?” Katie replies sarcastically. 

“Katie,” Paige groans. 

“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?” Katie says slowly and Paige can tell she’s holding back a laugh, “nope, didn’t have a clue. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?”

“What happened to telling me to take things slow?” Paige hisses. 

“Well if I left the two of you two to your own devices y’all wouldn’t go slow, you wouldn’t even move at all,” Katie defends. 

“So you’re meddling?”

“I am not,” Katie protests, “you were always gonna help with the camp and Stephie’s already been going to the camp. I just didn’t let you stress out about it. Really you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you Katie,” Paige bites out mockingly. 

“You’re so very welcome Paige,” Katie sing-songs, “by the way, come over for dinner soon okay sweetheart. Love you honey. See you later darling.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything and the blonde saunters back into Steph’s office, trying to corral her facial expression into something more neutral. 

“All good?” Steph asks. 

“Just peachy,” Paige hums in response, “we gonna head over to the court soon? It’s almost 4.”

Steph nods, “yeah they’ll be done setting up for us. Azzi usually brings Stephie to say hi to me right before cause no favoritism in front of the other kids you know? But maybe she’s running la- oh no wait there they are!”

Paige freezes, heartbeat erratic, as Steph walks to the door in anticipation. 

“UNCLE TWIN,” Stephie screams and something in Paige’s heart starts to fix itself at the sound of the younger girl’s voice. She’s scared to turn around, unsure if she’s more scared to realize it’s a dream or find out that it’s reality. 

“TWIN NIECE,” Steph yells back with equal vigor and Paige can hear Azzi’s laugh now too, each giggle acting like a needle, stitching up the parts of Paige that had felt broken since yesterday morning. She turns around deliberately slowly. Stephie is cradled in Steph’s arms and Azzi’s watching them with a fond smile. And it’s ridiculous to be jealous of a happily married man who’s practically Azzi’s brother if not her uncle, but the sense of that should be me, weighs heavily on Paige’s lungs anyways. 

It’s Azzi who sees her first, smile slowly fading as dark brown eyes clash with light blue ones. 

“Paige,” she whispers softly and there’s a multitude of undecipherable emotions wrapped in that one syllable and Paige thinks she could spend forever just trying to uncover them. 

Stephie’s ear perks up at the mention of Paige’s name as her own little eyes finally land on the blonde, shuffling her feet nervously in the corner. Her bottom lip trembles, eyes watering as she forces herself down from Steph’s lap, racing to Paige. It’s instinct the way Paige falls to her knees, ready to catch the bundle of limps that practically falls into her waiting arms. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers, “I missed you so much.”

Paige’s own eyes water as she buries her face in Stephie’s hair, “me too sweetheart. I missed you so, so, so much.”

In front of them, Steph looks beyond confused as to what's happening and Azzi’s determinedly looking away, even if there’s a lone tear waterfalling down her left cheek. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stephie confesses, voice choked up as she tightens her grip on Paige’s neck, “and I begged and I begged Mama to let me call you but she said you were busy. And then I yelled at Mama and it made Mama cry too and I hate making Mama cry.”

“I know. I know sweetheart,” Paige soothes softly, running her hands down Stephie’s back as the little girl continues to babble. They stay like that for a long time and Paige thinks if she could ask the world for one thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’d ask for Stephie. 

Finally Steph coughs, looking apprehensively between the three girls in the room, “so um- I take it you’ve more than just seen Stephie around then Paige?”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, finally letting Stephie go and turning around but still keeping a hand on Stephie’s shoulder, “yeah I guess that’s true.”

“What are you doing here Miss Buecks,” Stephie asks, looking up at Paige. 

“I’m uh- well Mr. Steph-”

“Uncle Twin,” Stephie corrects immediately and Paige can’t help but grin at the nickname. 

“Right. Uncle Twin asked me to be a coach at his camp and I agreed,” Paige explains, trying to catch Azzi’s eyes but the shooting guard seems determined to focus on a picture of Steph and Ayesha on the wall instead. 

“You’re gonna be my coach,” Stephie squeals, turning around to hug Paige’s knees, “this is the best news of my life.”

Paige feels her heart soar into a sky of you’re the best new of my life Stephie as she bends down to kiss Stephie forehead, “let’s see if you say that when I make you run laps after you miss a shot.”

“You wouldn’t?” Stephie says, looking horrified at the idea. 

“I totally would,” Paige teases. 

Stephie is quiet for a second before a proud smirk blooms on her lips, “that’s okay ‘cause I don’t miss. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter. Right Mama?”

“Right baby,” Azzi says, finally letting herself meet Paige’s gaze. 

“Well Miss-I-Don’t-Miss, how about you walk over to the court and show us how you don’t miss,” Steph teases. 

Stephie waddles out of Paige’s grip and holds her arms up at Steph, a saccharine smile on her face,“I can’t be tired if I don’t wanna miss Uncle Twin, so can you please carry me over there?”

Steph rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop him from hoisting Stephie onto his shoulders, “alright your highness, let’s go.”

Stephie’s giggles echoe down the hall as Steph runs towards the courts and Paige can’t help the fond laugh that escapes her. 

“She gets that from you, you know,” Paige says softly to Azzi. 

“Gets what?”

“Being a princess who gets everything she wants.”

“Not everything,” Azzi says wistfully, “not everything I want.”

She moves to start following but Paige wraps a hand around her wrist, “I didn’t know Stephie was a part of Curry Camp. I swear I- I didn’t do this on purpose.”

Azzi sighs, “I know. I know you wouldn’t Paige.”

“And I- I wanted to thank you for sending your Mom yesterday. I really- I really did need it even if I didn’t know it,” Paige’s thumb subconsciously rubs against Azzi’s skin, “but you- you always seem to know what I need.”

Azzi rips her hand out from Paige's grip, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are. You keep saying things like that- things you shouldn’t say- things I can’t just listen to and be okay,” Azzi brushes her hand against her face, “I know the way I left yesterday was wrong and maybe I was projecting,” she admits in a whisper, “but you just- you make me feel too fucking much. And it's too quick and it’s scares me.”

“Scares you?” Paige scoffs, “I’m not the one who broke your heart Azzi.”

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve lived with that guilt for the last 8 years? Jesus fucking christ Paige. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me,” tears stream down Azzi’s face as she paces the room, “I have never heard Stephie cry so fucking much in my life Paige. And you know who did that to her? Me, I did that. Apparently I’m really fucking good at making people cry but I don’t want to. I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to break your heart and I don’t want to break my own heart. Not again.”

“Azzi-”

“And so I’m stopping it before it happens. Before I ruin it again.”

Azzi tries to leave again but Paige is faster, wrapping her arms around the younger woman’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest so she can’t escape. It’s a terrible idea because now all of her senses are consumed by Azzi as they both become acutely aware of how close they are now. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers weakly, one hand pressed right against Paige’s heart, “let me go.”

“I think today’s the right time,” Paige says softly, hands grazing Azzi’s waist, “I asked you a question once and you said one day, when the time was right, you’d give me an answer. It’s the right time.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, “do you regret saying no?”

“Paige let me go,” Azzi wriggles against her grip but it only makes Paige tighten her hold. 

“It’s a simple yes or no question.’

“Stephie’s probably wondering where we are-”

“Then answer the damn question and we can go to her-”

“Paige please.”

“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”

“What do you want me to say?” Azzi bursts out finally, “you want me to say that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life? You want me to say the minute I said no, I wanted to rip out my tongue? You want me to say that I almost called you several times in the last decade to tell you how stupid I was? You want me to say that I flew to Dallas once to tell you that I fucked up but then I saw you with Olivia and decided you deserved better than me-”

“What?”  Paige feels the air being snatched from her lungs. 

“The answer to your stupid fucking question,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “is yes. Yes I regret saying no to you Paige. But it doesn’t matter. Because I said no and you found someone else who’d say yes and now it’s too late.”

And Paige thinks that Katie was probably right, that she should probably take things slow. But when it comes to Azzi Fudd, Paige Bueckers has never been one to do what she should. 

“It’s never too late for us,” Paige whispers before crashing her lips against the woman, who’s always been the reason for her biggest, brightest, most real smile.

[therealcocoshady]

Hey coco I seen your latest story and I was wondering if you could do the complete opposite where reader and Marshall are in a long term relationship and they have sex and he’s in a rush and he doesn’t clean reader up at all and kinda leaves really quickly and reader feels like a hoe and gets in her feels about it .

A/N : thank you so much for your request ! I really liked the idea so I came up with a little something. I hope you enjoy it ☺️💕. Please don’t mind the title. I’m exhausted and I wrote the first thing that comes to mind 🤣.

The Birkin Diplomacy

CW : Eminem being a really sucky boyfriend and a cocky bastard 😅 ; reconciliation

Marshall leaned against the headboard, the low hum of the city filtering through the slightly cracked window of your bedroom. The sheets were tangled around your legs, still heavy with the warmth of your embrace. He pulled a hand through his messy hair, damp from sweat, as he exhaled. For a moment, he seemed present—his gaze fixed on you in the dim light, the edges of his sharp features softened by exhaustion. You studied him, your head resting on his chest. You couldn’t help but think there was something mesmerizing about your man. You always found him fascinating, but orgasm always gave him a nice glow. In the dim light of your room, he seemed even more ethereal. If it weren’t for his heartbeat, steady and strong, you could have sworn he wasn’t really. You basked in this delicious feeling for a while, catching your breath, enjoying the comforting feeling of his skin against yours. But then, right as you were about to fall asleep, he pulled away. 

« Gotta go, » he mumbled before getting up. « What? » you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, in a voice edged with disbelief. He simply shrugged before answering, not exactly apologetic. « Late-night session. Dre’s in town. Can’t leave him hanging » he explained as he slid out of bed. How movements were quick, almost mechanical; as he started to put his clothes on. You frowned and watched as he moved around the room. You body was still aching from him, from your connection. You had given yourself to him completely, as you had always done and yet… He was leaving. You couldn’t help but feel your heart break a little. « Marshall… Can’t it wait? » you asked, your voice breaking slightly. « I feels like I barely see you, these days ». 

He sighed and looked at you. For a moment, it seemed like his icy blue eyes were softening. But then his shoulders sagged, and the weight of his responsibilities seemed to settle on him again. « You know how it is, babe. I’ve got work to do. We’re close to finishing the album ». And just like that, he was gone—out the door with a rushed kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone in your bed, body still marked by his touch. You stared at the ceiling, your chest tightening as frustration and hurt bubbled up inside you. Nearly two years of being babe. His girlfriend. His source of comfort and support. Almost two years of sticking with him through thick and thin. Two years of him calling you his princess, his queen… And now, he had you feeling like a cheap whore, your cozy bedroom reduced to a vulgar brothel. He didn’t even help you clean up. Yet, somehow, it was the fancy bracelet he had gifted you a couple of days ago that had you feeling dirty. When you had opened the box, you had been mesmerized by the way the diamonds caught the light but now, it felt like a bauble, a weak attempt at making up for the attention he didn’t give you. And if he thought you were one of these hoes that would turn a blind eye to their bed being empty as long as they had tiny things to look at, he was dead wrong. This, you were about to remind him of. 

The idea came to you as a sharp, defiant spark. Sitting up, you wrapped yourself in the sheet, your resolve growing stronger with each step toward the closet. Marshall had showered you with lavish gifts over the course of your relationship—designer handbags, sparkling jewelry, even a pair of limited-edition sneakers he’d bragged about snagging before anyone else. You gathered them one by one, piling them into an empty box from a recent delivery. Each item carried a memory, a moment when you’d thought you were his priority, his anchor. Now, they felt hollow, like symbols of a love that had become one-sided. Next, you opened the drawer where you kept a spare key to his house. Your fingers trembled as you placed it on top of the pile. You’d carried that key everywhere, a token of trust and commitment. Now, it felt heavy with the weight of his neglect. And for all you cared, he could give it to someone else. Someone who would be willing to put up with the disrespect. But that someone wouldn’t be you. You had many flaws, but being unaware of your worth certainly wasn’t one of them. The final touch was a deliberate act of rebellion. Pulling out your phone, you searched for the number of a high-end escort service you’d once overheard a friend joking about. You scribbled it down on a sticky note in bold, dark letters, then stuck it to the top of the box. « Here » you mumbled. « Now you can save on presents and have a cheap hoe ». 

The next morning, the courier arrived promptly. You gave the box one last glance, your heart thudding in your chest. A small part of you hesitated—did you really want to do this? But the memory of his hurried departure, of the way he’d made you feel so disposable, spurred you forward. « Delivery for Marshall Mathers, » you said, your voice steady as you handed it over.

Later that day, Marshall was at his studio, downing what seemed to be his hundredth can of Redbull, trying to stay awake. Dre had left the studio shortly before, and he was trying to go over the track they had recorded. He groaned as the receptionist came to him and handed him a package addressed to him. « Who’s it from? » he asked, his brows furrowed. She simply shrugged, mumbling something about a courrier. He sat the box on his desk and opened it slowly, his confusion growing with each item he uncovered. The bracelet, the earrings, the sneakers, the bags… All these were presents he had gifted you. His breath caught when he saw the key, glinting under the soft light of his studio office. But it was the sticky note that stopped him. A phone number. Of course, he didn’t waste any time and immediately took out his phone to dial it. 

His heart pounded as he hit the call button, curiosity and dread warring within him. The line rang once. Twice. « Hello, » a smooth, almost rehearsed voice answered on the other end. « You’ve reached Luxe Companions, Detroit’s premier escort service. How can I help you today? » He froze. « Wait—what? » he stammered, his voice pitching higher than usual. « This is Luxe Companions, » the voice repeated, professional and patient. « Would you like to make a booking? » Marshall’s mouth went dry as realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. No. No way.  « Uh… nah, » he muttered, struggling to form coherent words. « I think I… uh… I think I got the wrong number. » There was a brief pause on the other end, as if the operator was used to this sort of reaction. « Very well, sir. If you change your mind, feel free to call back. » Marshall ended the call abruptly, dropping his phone onto the desk as though it had burned him. His jaw hung open as he stared at the offending sticky note, now armed with a whole new layer of meaning.

« She didn’t, » he said aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. « She wouldn’t. » But you absolutely had.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the office. His mind spun in a chaotic loop: you were pissed, and this was your way of making sure he knew it. The message was loud and clear now—if you don’t make time for me, someone else will. The audacity of it stung, but so did the truth behind it. He collapsed into a chair, still holding the note as if it might give him more answers. Less than an hour later, Marshall was standing outside of your door, the sticky note still crumpled in his fist. Maybe it was a side-effect of the exhaustion or the energy drink, but his lips were twitching with a mix of frustration and amusement as he knocked. He had to admit there was something about the audacity, the sheer, unfiltered nerve of your move. He wasn’t sure whether he was mad, impressed or both. 

The door opened just wide enough for you to peek out. Your eyes locked on him, cold and unyielding.  « What do you want, Marshall? » you asked, your voice clipped.  « Well, » he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, « I came to return this. » He held up the note. « Thought maybe you’d accidentally sent me the number to a… uh… high-end hospitality service. »  Your eyes narrowed, your poker face slipping just enough to show a hint of satisfaction. « Accidentally? No. That was very much intentional ».  He let out a chuckle and shook his head. « I figured. You really went there, huh? ». 

You pushed the door open a little more, standing tall with your arms crossed. « You left me in bed like I was nothing. No cuddling. No conversation. Just ‘wham, bam, thanks, ma’am,’ and out the door. » Your voice was calm but laced with venom.  He winced, raising his hands in surrender. « Okay, I get it. I was a jerk. A giant, oblivious, selfish jerk. But damn, sending me to call an escort service? That’s cold, Y/N. »  You couldn’t help but scoff at his audacity. « Was it, now ?! » you shot back, your tone sharp. « I thought it was rather creative ». 

Marshall bit back a grin, trying to stay serious. « Alright, look, » he said, stepping closer. « I know I screwed up. I know I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve been taking you for granted. That’s on me. But come on, babe. You really think I’d go through with calling someone else? ». You leaned against the doorframe, studying him. « I don’t know, Marshall. You’ve been treating me like an afterthought lately. I had to remind you I’m not some cheap hoe. »  At that, his lips curved into a slow smirk. « Cheap? Nah. You’re way too high-maintenance for that. »   Your eyes narrowed, but he pressed on before you could retort.  « Not to be that guy, but… Birkin bags aren’t exactly cheap »  He gestured to your living room, where the infamous orange box your bag had come in sat on a side table. « You’re not a cheap hoe, baby. You’re an expensive one. Top-shelf. »  The audacity of his words made your jaw drop. « Are you fucking serious right now? » you hissed, though your lips, betraying that you were fighting a smile.  « I’m just saying, » he said, raising a brow. « If I’m gonna grovel, might as well acknowledge you’re in a league of your own. »  

As much as you appreciated witty banter, your faint smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. You pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest. « You think this is some sort of joke? » you asked coldly. « You think you can insult me twice in a row and that a clever wording is going to make it ok? ». He blinked, caught off guard. « Woah, hold up » he started, but you cut him off.  « No, seriously, Marshall. You think calling me ‘high-maintenance’ or joking about Birkin bags is cute? I never once asked for any of that stuff. »   Your words hit him like a slap. The air between the two of you grew heavier as your frustration spilled over.  « Do you think throwing expensive gifts at me is some kind of substitute for actually being here? » you continued, your voice rising. « You waltz in with flashy things like it’s gonna make up for the fact that you’re barely present anymore. And then you have the audacity to crack a joke about it? Like I’m some gold digger you need to bribe? »  He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, realizing he had nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.  « You know what I value, Marshall? Time. Effort. Real things. Not overpriced bags or shoes or necklaces that just sit in a closet. If I wanted someone who could buy me things, I wouldn’t have chosen you. I wanted you. But apparently, that’s asking too much. »  

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you quickly turned away, your hands gripping the doorframe as you tried to regain some composure.  He stared at you, guilt gnawing at him. Every word you’d said was true, and he knew it. You weren’t materialistic—you never had been. The gifts had always been his way of showing love in the moments he couldn’t be there, an attempt to show that he thought you deserved the very best, but now he saw how empty they must have felt without his presence to back them up. « Hey, » he said softly, stepping closer but keeping his distance. « You’re right. I messed up. Again. »  You didn’t respond, your back still to him. « I thought the gifts… I don’t know… I thought they’d remind you how much you mean to me when I wasn’t around. But I see now that it probably just felt like I was buying my way out of being a better boyfriend. »  You turned to face him, eyes glistening but fierce. « Exactly. I don’t care about the money, Marshall. I don’t care about any of it. I would have loved you just as much if you’d been broke. What I care about is feeling like I actually matter to you. Like I’m not just here for when it’s convenient. » 

« You do matter, » he said, his voice thick with emotion. « More than anything. I know I’ve been screwing up left and right, lately, and you deserve way better than the half-assed version of me you’ve been getting. » You studied him, your walls still up, unsure if you wanted to believe him. « Words aren’t enough, Marshall. You know that. » He nodded with understanding. « I know, » he said quickly. « And I’m not gonna stand here and tell you I’ve got all the answers or that I’m magically gonna fix everything overnight. But I’m gonna show you, piece by piece, day by day, that you’re not just some afterthought to me. I can’t lose you. Not over this. Not over anything. »  The raw sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to hold on to your anger, to make him work for it. But there was something in his eyes—a mix of regret and determination—that chipped away at your defenses. Damn baby blue eyes. « You’ve got a lot to prove, » you said after a long silence.  « I know, » he replied, nodding earnestly. « And no more Birkin jokes, » you added sharply. He raised his hands in surrender. « Scout’s honor. »  For the first time in the conversation, your lips twitched into an actual smile. « You’re lucky I care about you, you know that? »  He exhaled in relief, stepping closer. « Nah, I’m lucky for a million reasons. But mostly because you’re still willing to give me a chance to fix this. » Your eyes softened, though you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. « Don’t make me regret it.»  

« I won’t, » he promised, taking your hand. « And for the record, you’re way more valuable than a Birkin bag. Like… priceless. Top-shelf, remember? »  You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull your hand away. « You’re really pushing it. » He couldn’t help but give you a shit-eating grin. « Yeah, but that’s why you love me, right? ».   

[spdrvyn]

TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*

love, your best friend Dre <3

i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))

"Lyla, arrange this mess."

Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.

To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.

"What's the magic word, Miguel?"

He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.

"...Please."

Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"

"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."

"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."

The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.

Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.

However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.

"Lyla, what's that?"

Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"

"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"

"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."

Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.

Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.

Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.

"Whatcha' got there?"

The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.

'They got me a gift.'

'That's the third one this week.'

His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.

'...I know.'

A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.

'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'

Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.

'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'

Another bite.

'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'

'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'

Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.

'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'

"Miguel?"

That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.

He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.

Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.

"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"

"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.

Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.

"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."

You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."

"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."

He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.

"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."

Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.

[mur4sak1]

How would genshin man help you if you were afraid of thunder on a stormy night?

A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3

Situation: That evening, night had fallen very quickly on Teyvat. The approaching storm seemed to have hastened the twilight, and soon the sky was filled with thick, dark, ever-moving clouds. The wind began to whisper through the trees, with a delicacy that hinted at the strength it would soon unleash. The rain began to fall slowly, like a musical prelude, a symphony that accompanied the arrival of night. The flashes illuminated the sky with a sudden silvery light, revealing for a moment the wild beauty of nature. Each flash was followed by a distant murmur, a thunder that was heard like an ancient song of the earth, when then, suddenly, a thunder louder than the others pierced the silence, causing an explosion that made you jump. Your heart began to beat faster, and in that moment of disorientation, you instinctively sought the comfort of someone you knew could calm your fears.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Wriothesley, Itto,

Zhongli= You were in Liyue Harbor, but the landscape was shrouded in a terrible storm. The sky above the port was a sea of dark clouds, crossed by lightning that fleetingly illuminated the imposing mountains and the traditional roofs of the houses. The port itself was a chaos of fury and movement: the waves, high and tumultuous, crashed violently against the piers, raising spray that mixed with the impetuous wind. The boats, at the mercy of this stormy sea, swayed frantically, like toys in the waves. The entire sea seemed like a vortex of energy and anger, dragging everything in its path into its unstoppable turmoil. Then, suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky, its roar so powerful it seemed to penetrate your bones. The deafening noise jolted you out of your dream, causing you to snap awake. The chaos of the storm, which seemed so real and immediate in your dream, faded into the darkness of your room, replaced by the din of the storm outside that now enveloped you in the real world. Freed from your blankets, you turned to the side of the bed and saw Zhongli standing by the window watching the storm. "Everything OK?" He asked you. “Yes, I was just scared by the thunder, sorry if I disturbed you.” Zhongli shook his head with a gentle smile and motioned for you to come closer. “You don't have to apologize,” he said, placing a warm, reassuring hand on your shoulder, moving the hair covering it. “It's natural to be scared of the storm. Even the loudest noise can make us feel small and vulnerable.” He looked out the window, observing the stormy clouds with a peaceful gaze. “You know, storms always have an end,” he added in a calm tone. “Even when they seem so intense and scary, they're just a moment that will pass. And in the meantime, it's normal to feel a little overwhelmed." As he spoke, lightning lit up the sky, followed by thunder that rumbled through the room. You jumped slightly, but Zhongli tightened his grip on your shoulder, reassuring you with his calm presence. “You don't have to face the storm alone,” he said. “We can just stay here, together, and listen to the rain.” With a quiet gesture, Zhongli pointed out two particularly dark clouds to you. “Watch,” he said, as a blue flash promptly split the sky, illuminating the dark night. “This is how the accumulated energy finds its way out, with a little eye you will also be able to understand where they will form, and in that moment you will understand that you have nothing to fear.” You felt reassured by his words and his calm way of dealing with the situation. Even though the thunder continued to shake the night, Zhongli's presence by your side made the storm less scary. In that moment, you understood that you didn't always have to be brave alone; sometimes, having someone to share your fears with made everything more tolerable.

Diluc=When you woke with a start, a sense of dread enveloped you. The storm continued to rage outside the window and the roar was amplified by the lightning that pierced the darkness. Instinctively you turned towards the other side of the bed in search of your companion, but instead of his figure you only found a pillow and the blanket as if it had been redone. Panic washed over you as you tried to figure out where he had gone. You quickly got out of bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You immediately ran towards the door of the room, desperately searching for his presence and when you opened it, you glimpsed a warm light coming from the study. You breathed a sigh of relief and with your heart still beating wildly, you took a few small steps to grab the handle. As soon as he saw you, Diluc looked up. His eyes softened and his worried expression turned into a small grimace of understanding. With a small smile, he noticed your disheveled hair and couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Did the storm scare you?" he asked in a sweet tone, trying to understand your mood. At your affirmative nod, Diluc stood up from his chair and gently took your hand. Without saying a word, he guided you towards the small kitchen. He grabbed a warm blanket from a nearby chair and placed it gently over your shoulders. He sat you down at a wooden table and began making hot tea, the scent of herbs filling the air. Diluc moved calmly and precisely, concentrating on his gestures. The water boiled on the stove while he took two cups and poured the tea. Without saying anything, he handed one to you, his fingers brushing over yours in a reassuring touch. You snuggled closer into the blanket, sipping the hot herbal tea and watching the storm rage outside the window as your man sat next to you. After a while, Diluc looked at you with a small smile and asked in a quiet voice, “Is it good?” You nodded and thanked him, the warmth of his gesture more than enough to make you feel safe. Diluc smiled back at you, happy to know that his simple gesture was enough to comfort you.

Kaeya=When you woke up, you found yourself immersed in a storm you hadn't anticipated. Although you had noticed the dark clouds and strong winds during the day, you had not expected such a violent storm. Thunder roared and lightning pierced the darkness of the night, flooding the room with intermittent flashes. You turned to your man in panic and discovered, without too many surprises, that he too had been awakened by the roar of the night due to his light sleep. "What happens?" Kaeya asked, sleepily rubbing one eye. When you told him that it was the thunder that scared you, he couldn't help but chuckle and an amused smile formed on his face. It was too much, how could he laugh while you were so fragile for a moment? He didn't even give you time to answer him in kind before with a quick movement, he hugged you tightly, burying your face in his neck; his enveloping warmth and presence infused you with immediate peace. “Stop worrying, beautiful,” he said in a reassuring tone, “you're safe with me.” As you snuggled into him, you couldn't help but think how little other people knew about this side of the captain. His usual air of mystery and charming demeanor hid a sweetness and tenderness that only you were privileged to see. At that moment, you felt that you were the only one who had access to this intimate corner of his heart. And yet, even in such a situation, Kaeya couldn't miss out on some provocation. With a playful smile, he added, “And don't worry, it's not like the thunder can come in here to get us.” His joke made you smile, but the security of his embrace was so enveloping that you didn't pay too much attention to it, letting yourself be lulled by the regular rhythm of his breathing and the tranquility he exuded.

Wriothesley (warning: fear of aggression that didn't happen) = When a sudden scream pierced the night, Wriothesley sprang to his feet without hesitation. He was focused on a job for the managing of the fortress, but the sound of your voice full of terror, made him immediately abandon everything. The document he was reading was abandoned on the desk and the pen fell, hitting the floor hard as he rushed towards the shared room, his heart pounding with worry that someone had broken in to attack you. As soon as he opened the door with a decisive movement, he found you curled up in bed, trembling and with a face marked by panic. Loud thunder rumbled outside, making the walls vibrate, and he immediately knew what had scared you. In an instant, Wriothesley was beside you, sitting on the bed and enveloping you in a protective hug. “Hey, it's okay,” he whispered in a soothing voice, his arms holding you tight, trying to make you feel safe. “I'm here, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a storm, it will pass soon.” The warmth of his body and the security of his hold began to slow your heartbeat. His hand, strong and reassuring, moved through your hair, while the other held you close to him with a determination that spoke more than a thousand words. The fear that had overwhelmed you slowly faded, replaced by the profound feeling that, with Wriothesley by your side, no storm, real or figurative, could touch you. In that moment, while the world outside continued to rage, you realized that next to him, you were truly safe from any danger, because you know he would do anything for you.

Itto=The storm raged with full force. Thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated the room with a ghostly glow. Sitting on the couch, you clutched your pillow, trying to control the racing of your heart with each burst of noise. Itto, next to you, seemed unfazed by the chaos outside. When he noticed your scared reaction, his face lit up with a smile that mixed determination and amusement. “Don't worry,” Itto said, pausing dramatically as the sound of thunder filled the room. “This storm is trying to test us, as if it wants to challenge us to see who is more powerful!” Your shocked gaze met with his accomplice, then he continued, “And you know what? I accept the challenge. With every thunder we hear, we prove that we can be stronger, more courageous. We must show that nothing can scare us!”. Itto's tone was playful but true, as if he was facing the storm in some kind of friendly competition. He got up from the sofa and, with a theatrical gesture, pretended to prepare for a great battle against the noise of the storm. “Every thunder you hear is like a blow from the storm,” he explained. “But we respond with our courage and our smile. This is how we win this challenge!” When more thunder roared, Itto raised his arms and, with a playful cry, began counting down to an imaginary "counterattack." His exaggerated behavior and enthusiasm made you laugh, and slowly the fear began to fade. “Imagine that we are gladiators of the storm,” Itto said with a smile, “and every noise we make is our response to the challenge of the sky!” His ability to turn the storm into a kind of playful challenge and his encouraging attitude helped you see the situation in a different light. The initial fear faded and the outside noise became mere background to your little competition against the storm. "You see?" Itto said, lowering his arms with a triumphant smile. “We have shown that we can face anything with a little spirit and courage. This storm can make all the noise it wants, but we are stronger!”

[muffinsin]

hi muffin!!! i'm sorry to bother you, but i have a question. could you write about how the dimitrescu sisters would react if they had a secret admirer who leaves them various gifts. i'm not forcing you, have a nice day!!!

Hey, hon! :) Absolutely, what an adorable prompt!😚😊 have a lovely day, everyone🙌

Let’s get into it ;P

Masterlists

Bela

Having lived decades, nearly a century even, having an admirer is certainly no new concept to her

It feels as though hundreds have tried over the years, trying and failing to court her, whereas others succeeded and were taken from her far too soon again

A secret admirer, however?

That’s new

The first thing she finds; a white envelope on her office desk with a red rose pinned to it

Ah, romance? Or a mere prank from her sisters

She isn’t too sure, allows herself to indulge in her own curiosity though as she gently takes the rose, only to realise:

Whoever left it, they’ve plucked out every single thorn

How…thoughtful

Bela tries to tell herself she isn’t interested in romance, that it’s a stupid, useless concept that just isn’t for her

That it’s something only naive, younger people dream of

Such as Daniela

Certainly not her, no. Certainly not Bela!

Still, she reads through the envelope, keeps the rose in a vase on her desk

She locks the envelope in her drawer, hoping her sisters won’t find. Or even worse yet; her mother

While she loves and is utterly devoted to Alcina, the mother of three can be very…protective

She would, without doubt, hunt down this secret admirer that could never possibly be worthy of her precious eldest

Bela can’t help but think…what if you are?

What if, someday, there was one worthy of her?

Someone to love her, too?

Even when she doesn’t love easily herself

A few days pass and she forgets about it, almost

Then, a small package on her bed

A box, a rather cheap one that tells her this was likely one of the staff members, one unable to afford rich fabrics and items

Still, she finds herself smiling a little at the scribbles at the sides, the small hearts and flies drawn messily on the brown box

She closes and locks her door, ensuring she’s on her own when she sits on the bed and opens the box, at last

Inside, a book, a light blue-green tone to it

She holds it gently, feels her cheeks heat up as she reads the title

The cover shows light blue and white hearts- literal ones, not the ones drawn by many maidens and her younger sister

Then, in beautiful font;

Frankenstein

She tries not to admit the blush on her cheeks, even to herself

Only mere days ago has she talked about the book, spoken about how badly she wants to read it, complained how the duke just hasn’t had it in store for ages!

Now, it’s in her hands and as she opens it, another envelope, signed only by “-♡︎”

She reads through it, her heart skipping a beat and her flies buzzing a little wilder than she’d like to admit

This time, she holds the envelope close to her chest as she curls up on her bed and begins to read

And lastly, a more expensive gift, many days later, and many envelopes left in her room in-between

She just finished her bath, her beautiful hair wet, her bare skin glistening in the dimly lit room, a towel wrapped around her still as she walks back out the attached bathroom and into the

Then, she spots it

The red dress on her bed

She looks around immediately, checking- hoping, that her secret admirer might just still be around

But the bathroom is empty, as is her room, her private maid having just left mere minutes ago

Dropping the towel, she gently picks up the dress

A more expensive material, certainly

Whoever her secret admirer is, they must have been working hard recently to afford such a thing

She feels her cheeks heat up

While her youngest sister would be over the moons at the item, the dress, Bela is taken aback by the fact someone must have worked so hard to get something for her

To spoil her

Her!

Her, who has everything already

Her, who holds the dress close like a treasure known to only her

She holds it in front of her mirror, smiling a little to herself when the reads the note in the envelope that falls from the sleeves

“A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman. I know it will suit you, and I shall lie awake envying the fabric caressing your soft skin”

She blushes a sweet pink, a sharp contrast to her pale skin

She wears it the next day, then, hoping to uncover the person who has her so very interest

She yearns to meet you

Cassandra

One would think Cassandra’s brutal and sadistic nature keeps most at bay

That no one would dare approach her, would be foolish enough to fall for her

And one would be wrong

Throughout her life, she has bedded and been with many lovers

No, not lovers

Playthings

She’s had admirers come and go

Some, she’d play with, others she would ignore, others she would dispose of immediately

Unlike her sister, though, Cassandra finds being admired and being wanted is fun

Of course, she finds being feared is better than to be loved

But, the many admirers coming her way, practically offering themselves up for her…it’s fun

Satisfactory

Only does she never quite feel intrigued, never eager to make her pets last

As such, what most of them get is a fun night they might normally never forget, only to awaken with a sickle stuck in their back and their throat slit open

Normally, they approach her, or send her shy looks and giggles until she takes them

Precisely that is why Cassandra finds herself so confused when she returns to her room one day and something has changed

All the weapons messily sprawled out on her floor are laid on her bed now, cleaned, sharpened, polished

A note is laid out on top of one, with a small, new dagger laid across it

She picks it up, admiring its sharpness and the strong leather handle

Certainly a neat little gift

Almost, she would think it’s from Bela or Mother even, but knows neither of them would clean her weapons for her

Then, she reaches for the note, finding it signed mysteriously

“- ♡︎”

What the…?-

While she finds it a little odd, Cassandra forgets about this soon, far too distracted playing with her new dagger

Then, however, another gift appears

This time it’s left on the threshold to the dungeons. All know those are her regions!

She finds a torso lacking its limbs there, a dagger pinning a note into the back of it

Looking at it, she finds the strange signature again

“- ♡︎”

She prods at the torso with her fingertip, licking her lips

Still warm, too!

When she notices no one around, no one that could have done this, she shrugs it off and lifts the torso easily, biting into it and moaning at the taste

She certainly doesn’t need anyone to hunt for her,

but still, she enjoys it, finds herself liking this gift more than many other things

When another gift is left for her, more attention and affection is given to her, she almost snaps

While her family receives somewhat boring body parts for dinner, the heart is placed on her plate, the blood and sauce covering it making up a shape

“- ♡︎”, unsurprisingly

She demands to know who has done this

She can’t take her own curiosity, must know who you are

But with the staff too fearful to give her useful answers, she’s left guessing still

And, lastly, another gift

A rose, seemingly preserved in metal, beautiful and elegant

It’s left in the armoury for her to find, this time

She holds it to her gently, her fingertips tracing the metallic leaves and petals

The thorns are sharp, and she smiles in delight when one catches her finger and draws dark blood from her

Glancing around, she sucks at her bleeding fingertip, a light blush on her cheeks

She so badly wants to know, so badly wants to get to know the person doing all of this

Your gifts prove- you know her, know what she values and enjoys

Like the huntress she is, she searches everywhere, tries to hard to pick up any scent on, but none lingers on it

She’s certain, she will find out eventually, can’t sleep, can’t rest

She needs to know

Daniela

Out of the three sisters, Daniela is the one with the most lovers, by far

At the same time, hers rarely last more than two weeks at most, contrasting the many relationships her sisters have had and lasted in for months and years

Daniela, being naturally flirty, has many admirers

And she loves it

While some fear her, she still finds most trying to flirt back, eager to be with her for various reasons;

Either, her beauty. It’s no secret most that return her advances do so in hopes of fighting the loneliness in the castle and to indulge in her body

Others hope to gain something by being with the young woman

And others do genuinely feel for her, or believe so at least, yet never last

Through the pink-tinted glasses she has, the world seems beautiful, romantic, loving

Many don’t understand so

Many of her admirers fall due to this

You, however, stand out

You make her curious, immensely so

Daniela first finds a strange, red box sitting snuggly on her bed one day

Large, almost too large to contain something small only

Of course, this has her feel curious

When she opens the door eagerly, almost shredding it in her excitement even, she squeals at what she finds inside

A brown, fluffy teddy bear!

She picks it up immediately, giggles at the scent of roses clinging to it

As she lifts the stuffed animal, though, she notices a little white card slipping from it

She reads the signature, a little gasp coming from her lips as she realises:

She has a secret admirer!

A secret one…of course, this immediately makes her wonder who you are

How exciting!

How unique!

She sleeps with the bear each night, holding it and more of her stuffed animals close

She wonders: does her admirer smell of roses, too? Like the bear?

When she finds another card, with a poem, right by her door the next morning, she swoons

Again, it shows the little heart by the signature

“- ♡︎”

Even while trying to figure out who her lover could be-

while hiding both, the bear and the note from her overprotective family

- Daniela can’t help but daydream of what you could be like

Giddy, she wonders whether you’re watching her; whether you’ve ever talked to her

Whether she knows you

The next gift is a bouquet of flowers, left with her favorite book and the signed note at the library

She giggles out loud, spinning in a circle and smiling to herself as she smells the roses

How sweet!

How romantic!

Again, she looks around and tries to pick up your scent, pouting adorably when she just can’t figure out who her secret admirer is!

She’s sure, she will find out eventually

She simply has to

A few days pass, and she receives more gifts, more notes

Little poems, love notes

Little compliments that make her blush shyly and look around curiously, her cute, golden eyes wide in wonder

All signed by the mysterious, sweet heart

She keeps all the notes in her room, giggling to herself when she re reads them with a pink blush on her cheeks

Her very own secret admirer!

Another present, a little while after

A box, small and delicate, waiting for her on the bed in the morning

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she feels a little excited at the thought her soon-to-be lover must have been here

Opening the box, she finds a beautiful piece of jewellery

A necklace, gold with a beautiful green gemstone

She smiles widely, inspecting the gemstone lovingly

It almost looks like the one of her necklace! A matching piece, almost

Eagerly, she puts it on, smiling and swarming to the mirror

It really does look perfect around her neck!

[monstercangirlofficial]

Recommending some of my favorite rap songs. As a latin american trans woman, I didn't grow up with rap, but I learned to listen to and appreciate it. These are some great songs I think everyone should hear, and hopefully add to their playlists. These are Spotify links, but you can find these songs elsewhere too. My favorites are in blue:

Pop Rap: She's a Bitch by Missy Elliot (1999); Comfortable (ft. Babyface) by Lil Wayne (2003); Savage (ft. Beyoncé) by Megan Thee Stallion (2020); Too Many Nights (ft. Don Toliver & Future) by Metro Boomin (2022); Never Lose Me (ft. SZA & Cardi B) by Flo Mili (2024)

Classic Rap: My Mic Sounds Nice by Salt-N-Pepa (1986); South Bronx by Boogie Down Productions (1987); Welcome To The Terrordome by Public Enemy (1990); Born and Raised In Compton by DJ Quik (1991); When In Love by MC Lyte (1991)

Gangsta Rap: Gimme the Loot by The Notorious B.I.G. (1994); Cloverland (ft. Botany Boyz) by DJ Screw (1996); The Art of Peer Pressure by Kendrick Lamar (2012); Norf Norf by Vince Staples (2015); Tear Gas (ft. Rick Ross & Lil Wayne) by Conway the Machine (2022)

G-Funk: Nuthin' But A "G" Thang (ft. Snoop Dogg) by Dr. Dre (1992); Funkdafied by Da Brat (1994); It's Supposed to Bubble by UGK (1994); Dusted 'N' Disgusted (ft. 2Pac, Mac Mall & Spice 1) by E-40 (1995); Can't C Me by 2Pac (1996)

Conscious Rap: Proletariat Blues by Blue Scholars (2006); 4 Your Eyez Only by J. Cole (2016); Blood of the Fang by clipping. (2019); Iman (ft. SiR & JID) by Rapsody (2019); I Love You, I Hate You by Little Simz (2021)

Abstract Rap: Accordion by Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib) (2000); Mural by Lupe Fiasco (2015); The Punishment of Sisyphus by Hermit and the Recluse (Ka & Animoss) (2018); Magician (Suture) by Milo (2017); Arugula by Junglepussy (2020)

Jazz Rap: Jazz (We've Got) by A Tribe Called Quest (1991); 93 'Til Infinity by Souls Of Mischief (1993); The World Is Yours by Nas (1994); Yesterday by Noname (2016); Live! from the Kitchen Table (ft. Ghais Guevara) by McKinley Dixon (2023)

Trap: Ridin' N' Da Chevy by Three Six Mafia (1999); Love Don't Live (U Abandoned Me) by Gangsta Boo (2001); Kay Kay by Chief Keef (2012); Digits by Young Thug (2016); Poppin by Rico Nasty (2017)

Experimental Rap: Spiritual Healing by dälek (2002); Persistence by Lil Ugly Mane (2015); Ain't It Funny by Danny Brown (2016); Thug Tears by JPEGMAFIA (2018); Superman That by Injury Reserve (2021)

I strongly recommend checking out other songs by these artists, the albums these songs are from, more songs from these genres and others I didn't include, and to explore everything hip hop has to offer (especially hip hop made by women). Feel free to add any artists and songs I (obviously) missed, that you think deserve more love and recognition, particularly independent music. Enjoy!

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch4 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: non-con, PIV sex (protected), cunnilingus, lactation kink, mommy kink (all with geto)

Gifted with supernatural abilities or not (Sorcerers are a thing? For real? Something like this still difficult for you to accept!), there’s one downfall about both Geto and Gojo you know you can exploit.

The fact that they’re still men.

After what’s unfolded in the underground, Gojo stays behind for a little aftercare. You’re amazed the two even believe in it, all things considered. You’re snuggled between them in a large bath, full of Epsom salt, bath oils, bath bombs, even a few rose petals to add a little more zing to the vibe. And the only light illuminating the place is the tea light candles they’ve garnished around the tub. Perhaps this is to butter and soften you up around them, or it’s more between them since they’re already established in some kind of weird arrangement themselves. You’re not sure if you can call it a relationship.

Geto has a more protective hold around you while Gojo is content just lounging in the steaming hot bath water. Geto traces his finger lightly down your arms, murmuring something into your ear.

“How do you feel now?” he questions, kissing the crown of your head. You shift a bit in place. There’s not much room between the three of you. You’re practically wedged between them. The slightest movement or little wriggle of your body, and you can feel either of their dicks brushing against your thigh or hip underwater. You fucking loathe every minute of this, but it’s better than them violating you, you suppose.

You don’t respond. Gojo glances at you, assessing you with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

“That’s her first time feeling real dick inside her, and we didn’t even move. Of course she’s still feeling a little overwhelmed,” Gojo interjects with a disapproving frown. “I guess you’re right. We should have taken things a bit slower, but you got carried away too, Suguru!”

They talk about you like you’re not even in the room with them. They’re checking off a long, long, loooong list of things that really pisses you off, huh? Beyond the stalking, kidnapping, killing innocent people, violating your body…and all that hunk of shit.

“True,” Geto agrees while absently twirling a strand of your hair. You fight back the urge to wince. You hate how touchy these pricks are. “I just find her difficult to resist.”

Gojo’s brilliantly, blindingly bright sky blue stare bores into you as a toothy smile graces his features. “I guess I can’t blame you there. But come on, I was playing nicer than you were! You are so full of shit.”

And you know what they say about men not only being stupidly easy to bend or manipulate, but also being stupidly competitive?

A light bulb goes off in your head. You try to keep your expression neutral. Sure, you’re pissed as all hell at these guys, but you have to learn how to play the long game like you told yourself before.

“Satoru’s right,” you pipe in, as you pry yourself away from Geto’s embrace and snuggle into Gojo’s bare chest, your finger tracing over one of his pecs. Geto’s arm splashes the water as you pull away. He’s probably taken aback from his lack of immediate reaction. “He’s been nicer. Gentler. Like a lover should be. Isn’t that right?”

You lean into his ear as you end that sentence with a low, sultry purr, blowing a bit of air into it. You feel Gojo’s breath hitch as he cages you more tightly into his hold, fully secured in his warmth. You don’t react right away, but you wish you could, because the pride swelling in your chest that that was that easy is unbearable in the best way possible.

“But of course, Princess. You know I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” he murmurs as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Geto’s stare now bores into your back, his jaw slackened. You try not to grin. Not yet, at least. You bite down the urge hard because of how fast this is working.

To add fuel to the fire, you sigh dreamily into the kiss, your free hand cupping one of Gojo’s cheeks as he deepens it.

Now Geto growls under his breath. Bull’s eye.

“Remember what we’ve discussed, Satoru,” he warns, and with a hearty laugh, Gojo pries one eye open to glance at Suguru. “I hope you remember why I allow this in the first place.”

“Hmmmm…I believe we discussed something about me playing fair when it comes to her, and you know I am! I’m not doing anything wrong here,” Gojo taunts back, before twisting his head and twirling his tongue against yours, shutting his eyes again.

“Satoru,” he growls again, simmering in the bath now as he shifts in his spot, the water sloshing slightly as he adjusts, supporting himself against the edge of the tub. Stewing in his own bullshit and you wish you can pry your eyes open to sneak a glance, but you want to play this up a bit more. Favor one over the other sometimes. Find other ways to push their buttons…or at least figure out the proper buttons to push. That’s what really grinds anyone’s gears, but especially men like Geto and Gojo. They are as prone to rivalry and proving to each other who has the bigger sword as much as they are prone to being a team of menaces.

And if a girl like you is on the line? Well, as long as you play your cards right and don’t end up having to fold, it can’t hurt to mess around with this.

Besides, don’t you think you deserve a form of entertainment since you’re having to endure so much crap? Of course you do!

Gojo breaks the kiss only to drag his tongue along your jaw, his eyes glinting in a mischievous manner as they lock on Geto, still stewing in his anger and bullshit. You feel your heart leap and backflip in joy. What a sight! It’s a small win, but a win’s a win and you know you’re not going to have very many of those. You may as well soak it up like a sponge.

Or like your fingers are the bath water…

“Oh, come on, Suguru,” he purrs, as one of his hands glide down your stomach, eliciting a shiver out of you. He quirks an eyebrow as he judges his old friend. “Just teachin’ ya some manners. Like man, maybe you got to read another one of those self-help books on how to please a woman or something. You could seriously use it.”

You bite your lip as you wait for Geto’s retaliation, but shockingly, he has nothing to say in response to that. He only scowls as you snuggle in more into Gojo, and Gojo’s dreamy sigh only seems to piss Geto off even more. What if Geto doesn’t want this arrangement in the first place? He only does it because he still cares about Gojo.

(Not that you care, but it’s something to take into account.)

You really hope you aren’t starting bigger fires. But it’s not like they’d hold back on you, either way, no matter what they insist otherwise.

Remember, you’re playing the long game here…even if you might not win in the end, it’s better to put up a fight than to not try at all.

Geto is still a bit lenient with you when it comes to anything sexual. Which you’re not complaining about in the slightest. It leaves your mind more space to think about your upcoming assignments and exams; this is your last semester and in spite of everything, you’re almost done.

The girls do seem to enjoy spending time with you, which makes all of this a little more bearable. You try to fish for any other information you can about Geto out of them. Anything you can use. You’re not some person gifted with supernatural gifts, but you are gifted with common sense, a hint of street smarts and intelligence.

You doubt it’s going to be enough.

At some point, you do run into some other members of Geto’s ‘family.’ Suda, you have met a handful of times since your first day there. She’s his secretary who doesn’t make any effort to engage with you, but she does send a lot of dirty looks your way. Another member you meet is named Miguel, a sorcerer who hails all the way from Kenya.

You have to admit: the guy’s handsome. But he’s guarded, aloof, keeps mostly to himself, and most of all, he doesn’t seem entertained by your presence in the slightest. But since he respects Geto, he’s supervised you a handful of times while you did any group work with students online.

Just to ensure you don’t try anything stupid.

The computer Geto has given you, you learn, actively records everything you do online anyway. It’s not like you can bypass it. And only Geto can lock and unlock everything for you.

You’re watched like a hawk with everything you do. Even if you call for help, nothing can save you from what these beings are capable of, anyway. You’re not going to drag innocent strangers into this mess. You have to find another way.

One evening while you’re walking back to Geto’s bedroom, you accidentally brush against Miguel. You bow your head and apologize, but he grunts to himself.

“You being here isn’t right,” he mutters, leaving you dumbfounded as he scurries off. Like not right as in ‘you don’t belong with them’? He’s so right about that, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s something you missed.

Not like you can afford to dwell on it. If you’re not back in the bedroom before Geto returns, you have something bigger to worry about then.

You close the door behind you, sighing in relief when you notice he’s not returned from some business he had to attend to that you didn’t care to pay attention to and hear about.

You disrobe, clad in just your lacy undergarments like he expects, before sliding under the covers of the unbelievably soft bed. That’s one perk out of this. The bed back in your apartment isn’t the nicest. You can appreciate the smaller luxuries here.

You release a huge breath of relief. Some time to breathe before Geto pollutes your personal space again.

Oh, how wrong you are. It seems you can’t get too comfortable. The door creaks open and in strides Tweedle-fucking-dee.

“Hello, little dove,” he greets with a small smile before shutting the door. “Did you have a lovely day with the girls?”

You nod, hugging the blanket to your chest. “They were content in letting me play Animal Crossing with them.”

“Sounds like a peaceful time,” he replies as he crawls into bed with you, scooping you into his arms and pulling you flush into him. His finger traces your lips as he affectionately gazes down at you. “I’m glad to see you’re adjusting better than I expected.”

You say nothing, averting your gaze. This all feels so…ugh.

Remember what else you can do?

“Suguru, why do you allow Satoru access to me?” you inquire, feigning innocent curiosity.

His eyebrows flash at that question.

“We just tend to share,” he answers, fiddling with a lock of your hair. Your lips purse.

That doesn’t sound convincing.

“We?” you probe, scooting closer to him. Play this up as much as you can. “Or he? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re happy with the idea. Isn’t this about the girls’ happiness, ultimately? So that they can live with a functional family?”

“I want to give them a healthier upbringing than I had, indeed,” he concedes with a hum, snuggling you closer as he nuzzles his nose into your collarbone. “But Satoru is special to me too. It won’t be much longer until he can no longer see me, anyway.”

Healthier upbringing? …He must see the irony in that confession, right?

You cock your head slightly, parting your lips, as if inviting him for a kiss. “Why’s that?”

“Politics,” he answers smoothly, accepting the bait and pecking your lips. “Regarding sorcerers.”

“Oh. Um.” Words die on your tongue, as you’re unsure where to go from here.

“It doesn’t concern you, little dove. You don’t have to worry about it,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before his lips trail lower, stopping between your breasts. He breathes out slowly, as if willing himself to relax. He peppers gentle little kisses along your chest before he unclasps your bra and tosses it carelessly away.

“Suguru…?” you murmur before a gasp interrupts you as he fondles one of your breasts. His calloused thumb brushes over your perky nipple a few times, before pinching it between his fingers.

“The medication worked faster than I expected,” he whispers, dragging his tongue between your breasts. You let out a breathy moan. Your breasts have definitely become more tender and sensitive, drawing more reactions out of you that certainly please Geto to no end. While he hasn’t been so handsy on you since the last time Gojo came for a visit, he hasn’t let go of his particular fixation on this. Feasting on either these or on your cunt, depending on his mood. “You have the sweetest milk… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

How the hell are you supposed to react to that?

He playfully bites the little bud, making you whine from the light sting, before he sucks the nipple into his mouth. Groaning low and guttural as the rush of liquid hits his eager tongue, gulping it down dramatically.

He removes his mouth for a moment to speak.

“My pretty dove,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the drenched nipple. “My pretty Mamma.”

A record stops in your brain. Your eye almost twitches.

….what. The hell.

You know he wants you to be a mother to the twins, but…but…what the actual hell is this?

“I….um…” your voice fades like the end of a soundtrack. You don’t even have a comeback to that. It’s probably best you didn’t, because Geto raises his head to meet your eyes, his own violet hues shimmering with lust and something else too gut-wrenching to name.

Whatever it is, it’s probably some twisted amusement at your aversion to the way he addressed you.

“What, don’t like the idea of me submitting to you? Mamma?” he purrs, nuzzling his face between your breasts, kissing between them. You clench your teeth, biting down the smart retorts dying to slip from your cannon of a mouth. Not like you have any real power even if he did.

His fingers ghost down your waist and hips, and you shudder, chewing on your lip to bite back a moan. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“Hell no,” you retaliate in a sharp tone, and a sadistic grin spreads across his face.

“Even better,” he jives, before seizing your opposite nipple and suckling hard, eager to drink more of your essence. The glug, glug, glug from his eager slurping and sucking makes you flush from embarrassment. It’s so gross. You hate that now you have to not only mother the girls, but to fulfill some more weird ass shit for Geto.

His lips come off your drenched nipple, finally, to give him a few moments to breathe but then he snakes down until his head is caught between your thighs. His fingers rub against your clothed pussy, tongue running along his lips.

“I think you’ve had enough time to cool off in the last two weeks since Satoru visited, don’t you think?” he muses out loud, peeling your panties aside to reveal your perfect cunt already coated in a light sheen from your slick. “Oh? Someone’s enjoyed themselves and they won’t admit it?”

Fucking piece of shit, you sneer in your mind.  

Two fingers dip between your folds, sliding along them before they infiltrate your entrance.

“Suguru,” time to see how far this can go. “Satoru was way nicer back there. Why can’t you be like that?”

Geto freezes, but his fingers don’t exit, instead he continues to pump them in and out of you in a more slow, careful manner.

“Which of us do you prefer, Mamma?” he mutters, curious. “Do you really think he is more adept than I in treasuring you? He’s not even going to be here as much anymore.”

“Hm? Am I allowed to give you an answer, Suguru?” you retort in that feigned clueless tone, tilting your head. “I think you know the answer. But I am curious. Why do you let Satoru get under your skin like that, when you’re the one in control?”

Suguru bites back a sigh. “…It’s complicated, Mamma. Something you can’t understand.”

Oh, how you loathe the fact that he can talk to you like that.

Dragging out a mock sympathetic sigh, your hand rests on Geto’s hair as his fingers idky pump in and out of you. He purrs in approval before his mouth descends on your cunt, closing his lips over your folds and slurping on your slick.

“Suguru,” you whisper, “Put Satoru in the back of your mind. He’s not here most of the time like you said, so why does it matter what I think of him when you have me all to yourself now?”

You ignore the bile threatening to ooze from your mouth. God, this alone is dehumanizing to you, even if Geto insists you’re above such treatment.

“That’s true, Mamma,” he replies, his voice muffled against your soaking cunt, his tongue still eagerly laving along the sensitive skin. “And he won’t be back for another month…some mission with his students.”

“So then,” you reply in an uncharacteristically sultry tone. “What have you got to worry about, darling?”

He growls in approval, suckling harder on your slick folds, and you inhale sharply. Guess he likes being called that.

“You’re right,” he grunts, pulling away to speak. “You’re all mine.”

You just keep telling yourself that, buddy.

It’s not hard to tell Geto might have a strong oral fixation. If he wants to he would definitely stay like this, but he has his own duties to fulfill (none that you care to learn about), and you’re just his pretty little trophy.

God, life is such a thing, isn’t it?

You do have to admit he’s far too good at this to be real. Had he been a real lover and you might have enjoyed this a lot more…

He adjusts your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest as he rolls his tongue along your slick cunt. The little flicks of his tongue against your clit are soft yet just firm enough to make your back arch off tbe bed.

“That’s it, Mamma. Let go. Let me take care of you,” he coos before his tongue probes your entrance.

You hate that it feels kind of good. His grip on your legs tighten, his finger pads digging into your skin. His tongue works its magic, pushing into your gummy walls and you’re writhing, almost keening beneath him. You’re gonna come. When you do, it’s in a crescendo and all Geto does is laugh in pure delight.

Quiet times with the girls have come to be the moments you largely prefer. Mostly because Geto keeps his hands to himself and you find that the girls are the least of your worries. They are more or less easy to please. As long as they have the pleasure of your company, you don’t have any qualms or issues with them.

Geto still likes to keep close to you, though. Whether that means you sitting right in his lap around the twins or just seated next to him while they do their own thing. Either way, you’re not leaving his line of sight no matter what.

He adjusts you a bit, snuggling you in close to his chest and you can smell the notes of citrus and sandalwood from his strong cologne. Strangely a comforting scent never mind it’s radiating from his body.

Nanako and Mimiko are facing behind you while they do a few rounds of Mario Golf. Their attention’s completely away from the two of you so occasionally Geto’s hands will go to places where they shouldn’t but it’s not like you have a voice here. His large, calloused hands are resting on your thighs, fingers brushing against the skin ever so slightly. The robe is absolutely for easy access. Why make the job unnecessarily difficult?

“Suguru?” you whisper, audible enough so only he can hear you. You lift your head, nuzzling into his shoulder. Just play the long game. Don’t lose sight of your goal and that’s finding a way to get the fuck out of here.

“What is it, Mamma?” he whispers back, matching your tone. His eyes shine with something akin to affection. How quickly it seems he let his resolve around humanity crumble around you, at least. Perhaps he wants you to disengage the barriers you have around yourself. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter, because you don’t care, either way.

“It would be wise to be less indecent,” you warn in a low tone. “You want to be a better lover to me than Satoru, don’t you?”

“Of course, haven’t I proven that already?” he retorts as his hands venture to cup your ass cheeks. You curse under your breath. This guy really isn’t different from Gojo in a lot of ways. Tweedle-fucking-dee for sure.

He grabs one of your hands before you can have an appropriate reaction, guiding it under his robe, on his pelvis where he makes you caress his growing erection.

When the girls can glance behind them at any time to see their adoptive father behaving less than decent.

“Help me with this, and I’ll keep my hands off of you for the rest of the week if that’ll make you happy,” he demands into your skin before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Around the girls?” you retaliate harshly, careful not to raise your voice.

He lifts one of your legs to shield the view a bit, in case the girls do cast curious glances, which they indeed will.

“Better, Mamma?” he purrs, while guiding your hand before you move it on your own, utilizing the soft palm and heel of your hand to stimulate him. He bites back a low grunt, careful not to draw attention to the two of you while the girls are engrossed in their own worlds. It’s better for them that way. Better not to taint their innocence any more than it already has been, right?

If you can even call those girls innocent given how casually they discuss such tragedies they have witnessed so young in their life.

“Not by very much,” you finally answer through your clenched teeth. An idea flashes in your mind, but you don’t know if you can execute it well. It’s worth a shot.

“Don’t you think it’d be a bit better if we had a little more privacy, darling?” you ask while batting your eyelashes to sweeten the deal—no matter how gross you feel doing this—and all the while tracing little patterns along his clothed, straining erection that you can feel dampening. “As tempting as this is, I’d prefer if you could be freer to express yourself.”

“You’re right, Mamma,” he replies, glancing at the girls with a neutral expression before hoisting you up into his arms princess style. Your knee pushes against his pelvis, where you can still feel the dampness from his leaking cock, concealing it from sight, but barely. “They won’t miss us much.”

He effortlessly carries you away from the living area and strides down the hallway leading to his bedroom. You won’t ever call it yours; you don’t belong here, just like that family member of his told you. You have spared yourself some embarrassment, at the very least, as he rests you on your back on his bed with shocking gentleness.

“I know this will be your first,” he growls into your neck before trailing heated kisses along it while fully disrobing you. “But I will follow through on my promise. After this, I won’t touch you like this again for another week. That makes you happy, does it not?”

Like he actually cares, you think, but rather than rebuking with a snippy reply, you nod in response and a slow smile graces his sharp features before he pries your legs apart. He tuts when he notices you aren’t wet enough, inspecting with a few of his fingers digging into your folds. Your breath catches in your throat.

“There’s always a solution to these things.”

He moves to gather the appropriate supplies—lube. And a condom. He actually cares enough to wear a condom this time.

“I don’t want there to be any…unfortunate mishaps,” he states, as he wraps himself with a clean condom before squeezing a liberal amount of lube into his hands. “I don’t care to breed for more sorcerer children, considering the chances of that are already slim to none…I’m already happy with the family I have. You, the girls, the cult…Satoru…”

He pushes two fingers coated in lube into you without so much as a warning and you arch your back into the bed, gripping the sheets. He chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head.

“Even though you’ve experimented so much with your own toys, the way you behave is just so cute. So innocent, as if you don’t have your own dark, filthy desires you want to fulfill,” he babbles as he stretches you with a third finger. “It’s misleading considering what you choose to wear beneath your clothes, and what Satoru has found rummaging through your dresser. You want something like this, don’t you?”

Your face drops at that little tidbit of information—so they  have been watching you for longer than you think, even going as far as invading your space? Before you even know they existed? This is insane.

“Not like this,” you confess, squeezing your eyes shut as the way he stretches your walls with his fingers burns so good but you don’t want to admit it. Even if it means staying in his good graces. As if you truly give a damn for no other reason than survival. You dare to prop yourself a bit on your elbows, glancing down as Geto continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Sometimes he takes the time to admire the way your hole gapes, his lips parted slightly. A line of drool trickles down his chin and you grimace at the sight. What a fucking animal.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he coos condescendingly, popping his fingers out of your entrance while lining his protected cock to it. You swallow. It’s so huge. Sure, Gojo’s is big too, but not in terms of girth like with Geto’s.

Your eyes squeeze shut as a breathy shriek escapes your lips when the head finally breaches you. He coos and whispers sweet nothings to you, tries to comfort you by kneading your plush thighs as he inches the rest of his cock until you’re filled to the hilt. The stretch is so wide, brushing against your walls. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as you try to adjust. It’s nothing like how Gojo’s felt; it’s nothing like how your toys felt either because you have never taken anything nearly this size…

Geto cages your body with his, hands pressed to either side of your head as he leans into muffle your little whimpers and whines with a passionate kiss. He experiments with one gentle thrust, chuckling as your hands fly to grip tightly at his shoulders.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, having the gall to actually tell you that is maddening. “You’re alright. You’re taking me well. You feel perfect. So tight. Satoru must have really enjoyed that.”

Your eyes are still squeezed shut so you don’t bother to glare, just clinging onto him for dear life as he spares you with a few more gentle thrusts before finding a rhythm he’s happy with, because this is for his pleasure. This is all about him and nothing to do with you. Just smile and bear it. That’s all you can do here.

…Well, not all you can do.

“Stop thinking about Satoru unless you want me to bring up how much better his dick felt in there than yours,” you challenge as you dare to pry at least one eye open to get a view of Geto sprawled all over you with his dick balls deep inside. His body is already coated in glistening sweat and, in another world, you might have thought he was the hottest thing in existence. But you know the kind of ugly he is beneath those angelic features of his.

“Why are you telling me that, Mamma? Are you trying to upset me?” he shoots back, rolling his hips and thrusting harder, making you choke on a gasp. He smirks at that reaction in triumph.

“I’m telling you that to remind you to be better for me, darling,” you reply, sliding a hand down his hips, digging your nails as he adjusts his rhythm. Your eyes roll back as he hits that right spot, and, encouraged, he adjusts his rhythm again, brushing against that area over and over and over—

“—Fuck, Suguru!” you shout as you come, clenching around his girthy cock which feels surreal but horrifying considering this is not how you wanted your first time to be like. Even if it is technically good.

“Feel good, Mamma?” he purrs affectionately, but you can feel his dick twitching and he still feels so hard, like he’s got a long way to go before this is done. No wonder he’s offered a week of recovery following this… “Did I make you feel good?”

You bite back the menacing words you want to say and settle on, “Yes, darling. You made me feel so good. Now keep making me feel good so that you don’t have to be compared to—!”

“—Stop saying his name,” he growls, snapping his hips as he picks up a more erratic rhythm this time, rocking the bed and even making it creak a few times. “He’s not relevant here. This is about us, Mamma. Me and you. I get to make you feel good for as long as I desire, do you understand? Everything about Satoru is out of sight, out of mind here.”

Men are still men, in the end, you figure.

He doesn’t stop until finally, he comes, slipping his flaccid dick out and tossing the used condom away. But he doesn’t seem to want to stop at just one, as he tries to stroke his cock back to being fully erect.

He winks at you, grabbing another condom to slip back on.

“I’m sure you can tolerate a few more rounds, Mamma.”

[onboardsorasora]

Daniel Ricciardo's Business Ventures- Primer?

I realized there's a lot of us who don't know all of Daniel's little business ventures that he's quietly been working on. So I've put this together- I too wanted to know if there was anything I had forgotten about. (I'm not sure if someone has done this before? I haven't seen it come across my dash.) Also good for fic purposes- I liberally used Blue Coast and DR3 Wines in one of my last stories

*Edited to add Lafayette and Goods Way, thank you Laila!

Blue Coast Brewing Co.

Started in 2017, its a brewery owned by Daniel Ricciardo, Jenson Button, Natalie Pinkham, Karen Minier Couthard, Tiffany Cromwell, Eugene Laverty, Thor Hushovd, Andreas Mikkelson, and Noah Wyle. They call themselves the Original Bluecoasters.

Their brews have won awards.

Ricciardo Kart

Started in 2015. They provide karts for 6 different categories.

Which goes hand in hand with the Daniel Ricciardo Series or DRS that kicked off in 2019.

The series runs for 8 weekends around the UK throughout the summer and they crown a champion at the end of the series.

DR3 Wines x St Hugo

I was surprised to find out that the first DR3xSt Hugo blend was from 2014. He'd said in an interview that he didn't want to just put his name on something- he wanted to be a part of the whole process.

Enchante.co

We all know about Ric3 turned Enchante.

Goods Way and Lafayette

Goods Way is a bar/speakeasy owned by Ben Lovett from Mumford & Sons and Lafayette is the live music venue attached to the bar. Lafayette is owned by both Daniel and Ben

Daniel has also spoken about being an executive producer on a potential 'Entourage' style F1 Hulu series. There was also talks about him acting- which I'm sure has since been tabled since he's back on the grid.

Outside of his ventures, he has a fair bit of personal sponsors; OKX, Optus, SeaDoo, GoPro, Beats by Dre, EA Sports and Thorne.

Our little Money Badger is doing well for himself

I'm sure this list isn't exhaustive because he seems to like to have his little bitten cuticle fingers (adorably affectionate) in a bunch of things. So I'll update as more ventures get released I guess

[cinelestial]

Apple Music’s ‘100 Best Albums of All Time’ list:

#1. Lauryn Hill — The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

#2. Michael Jackson — Thriller

#3. The Beatles — Abbey Road

#4. Prince & The Revolution — Purple Rain

#5. Frank Ocean — Blonde

#6. Stevie Wonder — Songs in the Key of Life

#7. Kendrick Lamar — good kid, m.A.A.d city

#8. Amy Winehouse — Back to Black

#9. Nirvana — Nevermind

#10. Beyoncé — Lemonade

#11. Fleetwood Mac — Rumours

#12. Radiohead — OK Computer

#13. Jay-Z — The Blueprint

#14. Bob Dylan — Highway 61 Revisited

#15. Adele — 21

#16. Joni Mitchell — Blue

#17. Marvin Gaye — What’s Going On

#18. Taylor Swift — 1989 (Taylor’s Version)

#19. Dr. Dre — The Chronic

#20. The Beach Boys — Pet Sounds

#21. The Beatles — Revolver

#22. Bruce Springsteen — Born to Run

#23. Daft Punk — Discovery

#24. David Bowie — The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars

#25. Miles Davis — Kind of Blue

#26. Kanye West — My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

#27. Led Zeppelin — Led Zeppelin II

#28. Pink Floyd — The Dark Side of the Moon

#29. A Tribe Called Quest — The Low End Theory

#30. Billie Eilish — WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

#31. Alanis Morissette — Jagged Little Pill

#32. The Notorious B.I.G. — Ready to Die

#33. Radiohead — Kid A

#34. Public Enemy — It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back

#35. The Clash — London Calling

#36. Beyoncé — BEYONCÉ

#37. Wu-Tang Clan — Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

#38. Carole King — Tapestry

#39. Nas — Illmatic

#40. Aretha Franklin — I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You

#41. OutKast — Aquemini

#42. Janet Jackson — Control

#43. Talking Heads — Remain in Light

#44. Stevie Wonder — Innervisions

#45. Björk — Homogenic

#46. Bob Marley & The Wailers — Exodus

#47. Drake — Take Care

#48. Beastie Boys — Paul’s Boutique

#49. U2 — The Joshua Tree

#50. Kate Bush — Hounds of Love

#51. Prince — Sign O’ the Times

#52. Guns N' Roses — Appetite for Destruction

#53. The Rolling Stones — Exile on Main St.

#54. John Coltrane — A Love Supreme

#55. Rihanna — ANTI

#56. The Cure — Disintegration

#57. D’Angelo — Voodoo

#58. Oasis — (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?

#59. Arctic Monkeys — AM

#60. The Velvet Underground & Nico — The Velvet Underground and Nico

#61. Sade — Love Deluxe

#62. 2Pac — All Eyez on Me

#63. The Jimi Hendrix Experience — Are You Experienced?

#64. Erykah Badu — Baduizm

#65. De La Soul — 3 Feet High and Rising

#66. The Smiths — The Queen Is Dead

#67. Portishead — Dummy

#68. The Strokes — Is This It

#69. Metallica — Master of Puppets

#70. N.W.A — Straight Outta Compton

#71. Kraftwerk — Trans-Europe Express

#72. SZA — SOS

#73. Steely Dan — Aja

#74. Nine Inch Nails — The Downward Spiral

#75. Missy Elliott — Supa Dupa Fly

#76. Bad Bunny — Un Verano Sin Ti

#77. Madonna — Like a Prayer

#78. Elton John — Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

#79. Lana Del Rey — Norman F*****g Rockwell!

#80. Eminem — The Marshall Mathers LP

#81. Neil Young — After the Gold Rush

#82. 50 Cent — Get Rich or Die Tryin'

#83. Patti Smith — Horses

#84. Snoop Dogg — Doggystyle

#85. Kacey Musgraves — Golden Hour

#86. Mary J. Blige — My Life

#87. Massive Attack — Blue Lines

#88. Nina Simone — I Put a Spell on You

#89. Lady Gaga — The Fame Monster

#90. AC/DC — Back in Black

#91. George Michael — Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1

#92. Tyler, The Creator — Flower Boy

#93. Solange — A Seat at the Table

#94. Burial — Untrue

#95. Usher — Confessions

#96. Lorde — Pure Heroine

#97. Rage Against the Machine — Rage Against the Machine

#98. Travis Scott — ASTROWORLD

#99. Eagles — Hotel California

#100. Robyn — Body Talk

[tragedybunny]

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor. 

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring. 

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly. 

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic. 

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it. 

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,”  a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories. 

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go. 

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him. 

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep. 

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.” 

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown.  Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal. 

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?” 

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.” 

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.” 

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.” 

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with. 

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous. 

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp. 

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger. 

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known. 

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy. 

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you. 

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you. 

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.” 

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant. 

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation. 

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…” 

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize. 

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization. 

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.” 

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious. 

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation. 

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug. 

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life. 

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.” 

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-” 

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.” 

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement. 

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing. 

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping  through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.” 

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal. 

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”. 

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly. 

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll. 

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience. 

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.  

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.” 

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.” 

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away. 

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.” 

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf. 

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.” 

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.” 

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire. 

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.” 

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.” 

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.” 

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him. 

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor. 

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.” 

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room. 

“Finally,” Astarion huffs. 

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door. 

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.” 

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.” 

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love. 

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

Tag list, DM to be added:

 @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx

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@satanicspinosaurus

[thicccshady]

Do I Get To Dance? 🎄

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

Photo pulled from Google

Content: Fluff, implied cursing, Christmas

A/N For the context of this story, this is a world where Marshall Mathers did not have a relationship with Kim, nor did he have his nonfictional children.

Further context, Y/N and Marshall have been married for three and a half years, together for around five. They have a little girl named Andrea (after her Uncle Dre). She typically goes by Andie, or DeeDee, when Marshall is teasing her.

This was Andie's first year of dance lessons. She loved music, and loved dancing to it even more! She loved her dad's music. Well she loved the songs Marshall would let her listen to. He often told her she could only listen to his other songs once her ears grew big enough.

You and Marshall took turns taking Andie to lessons. The studio wasn't too far from your house, so people were desensitized to Marshall's fame.

Upon signing up, you both knew this was a small studio that depends on volunteers. When you took Andie to lessons, you volunteered as a classroom aid. Shoe's untied? You're on it. Papercut they somehow got while dancing? You're ready with a band-aid. Someone needs to go potty? Sure, you'll take them to the restroom.

Due to Marshall's schedule he couldn't volunteer as an aid. He signed up to help at the recital. You couldn't help but giggle when he implied it couldn't be too different from setting up a gig.

---

After class, you helped Andie pack all her belongings back up in her dance bag. Ms. Erin, her teacher, approached you.

"Thank you for your help, Y/N!" She said. "I don't know how I'd do it without you."

"Anytime!" You smiled while helping Andie with the zipper on her thick winter jacket.

"I do need to discuss the Christmas recital with you. I know your husband signed up to help, but I noticed he didn't specify what he would like to do," She said as she began sweeping the classroom, even though the marley floor practically sparkled.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd be happy with whatever-"

"Really! There's one role in the show we always struggle to fill."

You raised your eyebrows at her, unsure where this could be going.

She smiled, "Do you think Marshall would be our Grinch?"

"Daddy is the grinch!!" Andie chimed in.

You both giggled at the little one's excitement. With a big smile you agreed to ask Marshall what he thinks.

---

"The Grinch!" Marshall exclaimed. "Isn't that the little green fu-" He notices Andie easdropping "little green fuuurry dude."

"Yes! And they have a mask you can wear. No one will know it's you, so there's no way you could pull focus from the real stars," you teased as you pulled Andie up on your lap.

A little grin creeped over Marshall's lips "Do I get to dance?"

"Yes Marshall." You laughed a little, knowing he was hooked.

"Do you want to dance with me princess" He addressed your daughter with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Daddy, be the grinch! Pleaseee!" Andie climbed from your lap onto Marshall's.

"Well I better start practicing!" He picked her up and began swinging her around pretending to waltz, at least you thought it was supposed to be a waltz.

---

Marshall attended a few rehearsals. He refused to go into the classroom without the grinch gloves that would become part of his costume. He always claimed, "It helps me get into character."

You saw one rehearsal since it coincided with when you signed up to aid. You tried your best to hid your chuckles. Aside from how silly the sight of Marshall Mathers, wearing grinch gloves, and dancing with tiny 3 year olds was, you had to admit he had some moves. Ms. Erin even blocked out a few bars for Marshall to improv. This was, arguably, his favorite part. The dance ends with him scooping Andie up and running off stage. That was Andie's favorite part. She loves when daddy makes her "fly".

---

Nothing could have prepared you for the rehearsing he did at home. Of course, he watched the films with both of you. He also began practicing his Grinch voice. You reminded him there was no speaking in the dance, but he insisted it was necessary to learn it. The cherry on top was when, after a long day, he strutted into your bedroom. He stuck his belly way out with a slumped posture. He kind of walked like there was something questionable up his butt. Marshall stomped around the room and stopped directly in front of you. He made a silly face sticking his bottom lip out. "Rate my grinch walk."

You burst into laughter, only encouraging him more. Even after years, Marshall's humor found new ways to make you laugh. And not a cute little giggle. He made you snort while laughing. Something you didn't know your body was capable of until meeting him.

You had already prepaid for copies of the recital DVD. There's no way you would let this performance pass without being documented. You weren't sure who was more excited, Andie or Marshall.

---

On the day of the recital, your household was practically buzzing. You grabbed Andie's dance bag to pack some backstage snacks. Placing it on the counter, you noticed some green sandwich baggies inside it. You pulled out a bag of pretzels with the words "FROM THE GRINCH" scribbled on it. You smiled. Marshall has always made a big effort to help with the little things.

Sighing, you turned towards the fridge, ready to tackle breakfast. You opened the doors to find three plates of eggs, diced potatoes, and cubed melon. A note rested on top of one of the plates. It read, "Don't worry about us, Mama. We are show ready. Time for you to prepare to be our audience. P.S. Please throw flowers at me."

You rolled your eyes, grinning at his silly note.

As you finished heating up the breakfast plates, you heard Marshall come downstairs. He held Andie against him. She was dressed and ready to go, yet snuggled up asleep against her dad.

You both quietly ate your breakfast. You packed Andie's breakfast to go as Marshall grabbed his shoes, keys, wallet, paper, and go-to pen. You handed him Andie's breakfast.

"Break legs," you whispered and gave him a little peck on the cheek. For a few moments, you two treasured the morning and your sleeping angel.

In his godawful grinch voice Marshall said "See you there Sweetcheeks!" He winked and headed out.

You headed up to your bedroom to get yourself ready. On the bed you found a beautiful red dress. A perfect, elegant, red dress. You shook your head admiring the gift from Marshall.

---

The lights dimmed as you peered down at your program. The number Marshall and Andie are in was listed last.

You enjoyed the beautiful numbers. The older dancers performed sections of The Nutcracker. You always enjoyed watching people dance en pointe. You admired the graceful strength and dedication displayed in each dance. The younger dancers were cute. Not quite as graceful, but certainly little buttons of joy. You kept glancing at your program anticipating the number you've waited weeks for.

The curtain opened on a classic Christmas scene. A decorated tree with presents sat center stage. In dimmed lighting Andie and her classmates entered. Ms. Erin quickly adjusted the kids to their correct positions. Nonetheless they wiggled around.

The music started. It was light, filled with flutes and bells. The kids performed some basic moves in almost unison. Then the music shifted. You heard horns and drums. The little dancers acted shocked as Marshall emerged in his full grinch form. If you hadn't known for a fact that was your husband, you would have never believed Marshall Mathers was the man in that suit. He performed a series of half decent ballet moves. The little dancers began to gather around him and joined in. Then they circled around Marshall as he completed a series of hip hop steps. Closing with the running man, the kids giggled and posed as Marshall carried Andie, who couldn't keep her laughter in, offstage.

As they had rehearsed, Andie and Marshall came back on stage to bow with the group. Andie didn't wait long for the applause to die down before running back to her dad for a huge bear hug. 💚

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[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Hongo

You've never had trouble handling stress. It's mostly helped and motivated you to perform better. But what was too much was too much. 

For a month now, you've been dealing with your ex-boyfriend who still didn't want to understand that it was over between you. Plus, what was originally between you wasn't even healthy. For over a year you suffered his mental humiliation, name calling, ridicule and it slowly escalated until you started to fear physical violence. 

The fact that you were able to break up with him at all was a credit to your best friends, who you even stayed with for the first week, as there was a threat that your ex would break in on you. 

His emotional outbursts were a daily occurrence, first threatening you, then those around you, and then even threatening to hurt himself if you didn't go back to him.

You were probably most afraid he'd hurt your friends, so you reported it to the police with their help. But they couldn't do anything about him because he hadn't broken any laws yet. 

Under the weight of it all, you lived in a state of daily stress, afraid to go back to sleep for fear of waking up and seeing him in front of you. Moreover, your dreams, or rather nightmares, were filled with him and his disgusting behavior, which in the realm of dreams was exacerbated to horror levels. 

Lately you had giant circles under your eyes and you were a shadow of how good you were before. You kept looking over your shoulder every time you walked, dreading every turn you'd take to run into him again. 

Eventually, too much was piled on top of you and before you could do anything about it, your friends beat you to it again. They had secretly bought you a trip to the seaside, where they thought you would be pampered and where you would have other ideas. You were so moved, you were speechless. 

They even booked you on several trips and a boat trip so you wouldn't just stay in one place and get bored. They wanted you to enjoy yourself and forget all your troubles. 

And they did. You were just on one ship that ended its cruise with a giant party. The pool had bubbles, a laser show, free drinks and it wasn't even crowded. Just enough people. 

You had a great time when they brought out a giant bag of teddy bears on stage. Then they started throwing them around. You noticed one with red fur, then one with grey fur, even one with dreadlocks. As you watched, you suddenly noticed a teddy bear falling right at you. 

You immediately grabbed it and pulled it to you before anyone else could take it. You were overjoyed. You've never done anything like this before. Plus, it felt so nice to touch and you held it close. 

When you finally got back to your room from the boat, you fell into bed with the bull. In fact, it was the best sleep you've ever had. You started out having nightmares about your ex following you around.

But as you fled from him, you made it to a private beach where another party was taking place. Everyone was drinking and having a good time. 

Slowly a guy in a grey tracksuit with pink and purple stripes and his hair tied up walked over to you. He smiled warmly at you and motioned for you to join them. 

After a long time, you wake up in the morning full of energy and with a will for life that you haven't had for so long. You allowed yourself to rest for a little while longer and decided to finally take a look at the teddy bear. Yesterday you didn't have the energy or the mood. 

You picked up the teddy bear and lifted it in the air to get a better look at it. The bear had a light-colored fur coat, with his hair tied up on his head in the same style as the man in your dream. In addition, he was wearing an almost identical tracksuit and a blue sash that was wrapped around his waist. 

You thought it was strange that you dreamt of a man who looked identical to the teddy bear, but then you just shrugged it off and went to breakfast. 

From that moment on, you got rid of all your nightmares. Instead, you had dreams full of a man in a gray suit. He was the one who kept you from dreaming, and he made you think different thoughts. 

Your protector used to take you on cruises on a big pirate ship, you explored unknown islands, you searched for treasure, and most importantly he used to take you to parties and celebrations with great people who recurred a lot in your dreams and who supported you as much as he did.

Plus, he taught you self-defense at times. Dodging, how to pacify someone with your hands and even how to use a bunch of keys as a makeshift weapon. 

It was about the second or third day of your vacation when you finally had some peace and quiet to relax, so you decided to spend those days of peace and quiet at the beach. 

On the first day, you decided to walk on the beach as far as you could actually reach. You got about halfway there when you decided your destination was in sight and you should turn back.

It wasn't until that evening, and especially the day after, that you cursed yourself and realised you'd forgotten to pack sunscreen. You cursed yourself because you had burned your back and your front during the walk on the beach and now even the fleeting movement of your arms hurt and burned. 

You couldn't sleep. But this time it was not because of the nightmares, but because of the burnt skin. You applied after-sun cream and even got some Aloe Vera cream from the pharmacy. But you didn't think anything was helping. 

You finally found a position where you weren't so hot and your body wasn't burning. You were in a sort of half-sleep when you felt someone's hands on your back. You had the impression that you were dreaming about how you were finally relieved and nothing hurt. 

You sighed contentedly and let your protector rub your back. His hands were slathering you with a cream that made you feel instant relief and was pleasantly cool. It may have been a shock at first, when you thought you would jump out of your skin, but the relief was worth it. 

To your surprise, you woke up the next morning with completely healed skin. Instead of red and burnt skin, you had a beautiful natural tan. You had no idea what you'd done, but your eyes fell on a small, resealable box on your bedside table. 

You reached for it and opened it. Inside was a lotion that, when you smelled it, smelled like the lotion from your dream. 

You've been getting messages from your ex throughout your vacation. At first you ignored them because they were pleas, questions about where you'd gone and so on. 

But as the days went by, the texts became more aggressive and rude, and you were afraid to read the next message. Some of them made you sick and you didn't even finish the last one. 

You were sitting in the lobby when the next message came in. You didn't even have the courage to open it. You left your phone on the seat and tried to think of other things. You left your teddy bear in your room. 

"Trouble doesn't suit you. What would you say if I asked you out for a drink?" came a familiar voice. When you looked up, you saw your sleep protector. Was it just a dream? Finally, you nodded in agreement. 

The protector offered you his hand and together you made your way to the bar where you sat at a table for two. There you confided in him the news from your ex. You didn't even say the last ones and just showed them to him. 

As the protector read them, he furrowed his brow. He didn't like it either. Finally, he returned the phone and put his hand on yours. 

"I'm sure it'll work out," he said with a sigh, already planning in his head how to help you. "You can show me how strong you are. You need to be strong before this gets sorted out," he said and you just nodded your head. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to have hope. 

A few days after you got back from your vacation, when you were just walking through the city, you felt someone grab you by your jacket and pull you into a side alley, pinning you against a wall. 

It was so fast, you didn't have a chance to defend yourself. By the time you did, it was too late, as your ex was holding a gun to your throat. You didn't even have a chance to defend yourself properly. 

"I want you back. And you're gonna go willingly. I'm sure you missed me too...." he muttered, gun still on your chin. 

"Are you even listening to me? I'm sure you think I'm bluffing. Now I'm going to show you how serious I am," he said almost lunatically, firing a shot that grazed your arm. You yelped in both fear and pain. 

"Do you believe me now? I want you back... " he began to mutter, putting the muzzle of the gun to your head. 

"I don't think you have a clue about this and someone like you shouldn't be playing with adult toys," came a familiar voice. 

"Hongo!" you yelled, hope in your voice. You were about to add to be careful when you paused at the sight of your ex's crazed look. 

"Stay out of this," he said, and was about to add something when Hongo knocked the gun out of his hand and in a flash, disassembled it with practiced movements and the individual parts hit the ground. 

This caught your ex completely off guard, but it wasn't enough to completely dissuade him. Instead, he pulled out a pocket knife and lunged at the doctor with it. 

For Hongo, however, it presented no obstacle. He had no trouble disposing of your ex with the pocketknife as well, grabbing him by the collar at the neck and pinning him against the wall, lifting him slightly into the air so that he had a hard time keeping him on his toes. 

Hongo leaned over to your ex and started saying something to him in a hushed voice. You weren't close enough to understand perfectly, but you picked up something. 

He's going to give him a vasectomy, and if that doesn't work, he's going to do something much worse that will keep him so busy he won't have time to think about you. 

Under those words, your ex completely broke down, promised blue from heaven and that neither of you would hear from him again. Your protector's words seemed to have worked. 

Once your ex was out of sight, Hongo came over to you. All of this made your knees buckle, and now you were sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, holding your shot hand. 

He gently cupped your cheek before looking down at your hand. Luckily for you, it was just a simple scratch that wouldn't even leave a scar. Hongo pulled a band-aid from his pocket and patched the scratch. 

"You were brave," he praised you and kissed you on the forehead. "How about we go home now?" He smiled at you. 

You nodded your head in agreement. What you didn't expect, however, was that he set his back on you, saying that he would carry you home. At first you didn't want to, you didn't want to be a burden, but eventually you got on his back and he took you under your thighs. 

You rested your head calmly on his shoulder and gave him a little kiss on the neck on the way. A little gesture of thanks for saving you.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

[mosswolf]

KEITH: Doesn’t it say on the side, it says ‘The Blue Channel,’ and then right under that, subtext, it says, ‘The Home of Asepsis.’ In like little, like, down home script. SYLVI: In smaller text it’s like, ‘you know that one Divine, the creepy cleaning one.’ AUSTIN: It all has quotes around it, like it’s the slogan. KEITH: The quote is underneath that in slightly smaller text, and it says ‘you gotta be pure!’ SYLVI: A different font for each of these. DRE: A Tier 5 Carrier is not a home without a Divine.

you gotta be pure!! 🤓☝️