#so i need to watch someone play it and also it needs to be someone who needs to take their anger out on thing when they get a bad roll | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ssahotchnerr · 1 day ago

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Hey doll, hope you're doing good !!

Since you mentioned jealous Aaron, may I request maybe them being away on a case and a suspect who's totally innocent makes things difficult on purpose to get to see n talk more with reader. Aaron could be seeing right through him while she could be oblivious to what is going on since she's so in loveeeee with A and can't seems to even imagine being with someone else LOL ! 🤍

too close for comfort

omg omg OMG cw; liaison fem!reader, established relationship, suspect being a creep, protective/jealous aaron 😵‍💫❤️‍🔥 wc; 1.2k

"I'm not talking."

Dave huffed at the suspect's remark, sharing a quick, irritated glance with Aaron. "You don't need to make this any harder than it needs to be. You help us, we can let the courts know you cooperated."

"I'm not talking to you." He corrected with a sneer, his lips lifting into a sickening smile. "How about that pretty girl I saw on my way in?"

You - He hadn't needed to clarify, Aaron knew immediately.

As they entered the precinct not even an hour ago, you had been amongst the few people in the bullpen; your eyes had lifted at the intrusion, mid-conversation with Reid. And as Aaron walked past you, towards interrogation with the suspect in tow, you had piqued his interest immediately.

While your focus had already shifted elsewhere, he studied you - slowing down his pace. His gaze moved deliberately over your figure, taking its time - and lingering just a moment longer on your behind. Aaron shoved him ahead, harshly enough for the guy's gaze to snap forward to ensure he wouldn't collide with anything.

"No." His eyebrows tightened with quiet anger.

"C'mon." The suspect laughed at Aaron's heightening glare, evidently pleased with the reaction. "You wanna talk about being cooperative? You help me, I help you. Simple as that. I don't think it's that big of a request."

Maintaining a neutral tone, aware that showing any emotion would only give him an opening, he stated, "She's unavailable."

"Something tells me you can change that."

Aaron shoved back from the table, the chair screeching against the floor, hastily retreating with Dave following in his footsteps. Once outside the room - the door shut behind them - Dave opened his mouth to speak-

"Absolutely not."

"She could get him talking, Aaron." Dave pressed, before an exasperated breath left him. "Look, you and I know what he's trying to do."

"Exactly." He shook his head once, utterly annoyed as his jaw tightened. The very last thing he wanted was to surrender you over, playing directly into the suspect's game.

But he also knew in his capacity as Unit Chief, that this was in the best interest of the case.

"We're running out of time here," Dave insisted. "We have a victim out there who could still be alive. This- She could be our only chance."

"If you feel unsafe, don't hesitate to put a stop to this whole thing. I'll be in there with you, Rossi and Morgan will be watching, and not to mention, he's cuffed to the table." Aaron instructed, his voice leaving him expertly poised; still, he seethed beneath his carefully crafted exterior. "He'll have no access to you."

You nodded along to his words, entering the viewing room as Aaron held the door open for you. The large window offered an unfiltered view into the room, exposing the suspect in full. He lounged in the metal chair; his posture was almost lazy, but there was a calculated stillness to it. As if he had nothing to hide - as if he had the BAU in the palm of his hand.

Aaron had said the suspect wanted to speak to you specifically, although you were unsure why. You were a liaison, not a profiler; you didn’t do interrogations. "So I'm just asking him questions?"

He nodded, "get him talking. Talk about his past, the victims, the MO. Anything you can get him to reveal can help us."

"Easy enough." As your fingers went to brush his arm, you caught the stiffness in his jaw. Your hand paused midair, "Wait, you're really not okay with this."

"I don't even want to consider what kind of sick ideas he's entertaining." Aaron spoke sharply, his voice tight with restrained frustration. "The fact that he's even going to be near you is enough to make my blood boil."

"I'm sure there won't be any." There was a subtle crease at your nose, a flicker of disbelief in your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he dropped his hardened front for a moment, compassion taking its place. "He's had his mind on you since we set foot in here. You didn't see the way he...." He exhaled deeply, quickly composing himself. "He's objectifying you, and I hate to be the one to enable it."

There was a brief shift in your features - uncertainty, maybe even unease. "Why?"

"Why wouldn't he." His voice fell on the flat side, his eyes analyzing you also, only his gaze went further than your appearance. Your kind heart, determination, compassion. You were easily anyone's dream.

Your voice grabbed him from his thoughts, "Do I let him?"

"Hm?"

Hesitating, you glanced off to the side before meeting his gaze. Your eyes were gentle, quietly seeking his approval. "Should I play into it?"

A surge of jealousy ignited within him, warmth spreading rapidly through his veins. Would it be beneficial? Yes. Would it get the suspect talking? Absolutely yes. Yet watching you flirt with someone else…

Aaron's lips drew into a thin line, and you took note: Yes, but be cautious. Please. "You can do whatever you're comfortable with."

"And you'll be with me?"

He gave a single nod, his eyes holding the weight of his promise.

"Then everything will be fine." You offered him a small smile, more so comforting him than yourself. You loosened his tie, knotted tightly at his neck - breathe. "It'll be over before you know it."

He reached for the door handle, only to be halted by your firm grip. One more reassurance was in order.

"I love you."

A look of triumph crossed the suspect's face when you finally entered - a sinister grin spreading as he straightened up in his chair. The sight sent a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on your arm to stand on end.

"About time."

You took your seat calmly, intent on staying composed despite him.

However, his overconfident display faded once Aaron sat beside you. You stole a look at him; the softness he had displayed moments ago long gone, he was furious. You could practically feel the aggravated heat radiating off his body.

Though you felt for him, you wouldn't deny that it caused your heart to flutter. His behavior was a result of yourself - the deep, instinctive urge to protect.

"I thought I said I wanted to speak to her alone."

"Not happening."

The suspect slouched back against his chair. "Then I have nothing to say."

"It's fine." You spoke up, mediating between the two. Your hand searched for Aaron's underneath the table, finding his clenched fist. You quickly slipped your hand inside it instead, causing it to soften. A firm squeeze, "It's okay."

"Thanks darlin', I knew I could count on you." He flashed Aaron a smug look.

Following a tense standoff - a silent warning not to make a move -Aaron rose to his feet. However he didn't leave, he only created some distance; standing next to the door with his arms crossed firmly against his chest.

If the suspect moved a centimeter towards you, simply looked at you the wrong way - he'd be at your rescue before you could blink.

"This still isn't what I-"

Aaron was finished with the games. His eyes were cold, his jaw set and leaving no room for negotiation. "Take it or leave it."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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sowerpatch · 2 days ago

Text

terms of play [chapter 10 - undefined play]

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: Paige and Azzi aren’t defining anything—yet. But between late-night visits, borrowed clothes, and quiet moments that last too long, something begins to take shape. It’s not just flirting anymore, not just comfort. It’s the way Azzi watches her postgame, the way Paige never asks her to stay but always hopes she will. A midnight ice cream run turns into a public risk. A kiss becomes something more. And when they finally cross that line, it’s clear what’s between them is already more than just a moment.

Warning: Sexual content

Word Count: 4,741

Paige’s apartment, Oakland. July 2025.

Azzi lingered just inside the doorway, one hand still on the frame. The takeout bag swayed slightly in her grip. She looked at home in nothing at all that belonged here—perfectly pressed trousers, designer flats, a blouse with pearl buttons Paige could never afford but had imagined slipping off her once or twice. Her expression, as always, gave away nothing.

Paige tilted her head. “If you came all this way just to watch game tape, you picked the wrong night.”

Azzi didn’t smile, but her mouth quirked, just enough. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“In this neighborhood? With takeout from that overpriced Thai place I told you I liked three weeks ago?”

Azzi raised the bag slightly, like it answered the question. “You’re the one who said it was life-changing.”

Paige stepped aside, eyeing her with mock suspicion. “Fine. You’re lucky I’m starving. Come in.”

Azzi moved past her, too calm for someone who clearly hadn’t planned to leave anytime soon. Paige shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and watched as Azzi took in the space like she was cataloguing it.

She’d been here before—but never like this. Never at night, with the lights dimmed and the couch already folded out. Never with her heels off, hair down, cardigan sliding off her shoulders like she was letting something go.

Dinner passed in a blur of shared containers and offhanded commentary. Azzi ate with her usual elegance. Paige sat cross-legged on the floor, dipping spring rolls into peanut sauce and talking too fast, too loud, but Azzi didn’t seem to mind.

Azzi had changed into one of Paige’s old oversized sweatshirts, charcoal gray and soft with wear. It fell differently on her, sleeves pushed just past the wrist, collar slipping to one side every time she leaned forward.

Paige got up, sat beside Azzi and had made a show of pretending to stretch. Her arm thrown across the back of the couch like she wasn’t looking for any excuse to feel closer.

Azzi wasn’t playing along, but she wasn’t pulling away either.

“Comfortable?” Paige asked, nudging her thigh with a sock-covered foot.

Azzi didn’t glance up. “Barely.”

“That’s a lie,” Paige ginned “Five-star hospitality. Couch with the least amount of structural support. Ambience set to ‘early dorm room.’ I’ll be expecting a Yelp review.”

Azzi finally turned her head. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of something lighter tucked into the corner of her mouth.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you’re here.”

Azzi looked away, but the curve of her smile deepened just slightly. Her fingers curled around the stem of the glass but didn’t lift it.

They sat like that for a stretch. The only sound was the low hum of something on TV neither of them were really watching. Paige rested her elbow on the arm of the couch, head tilted so she could watch Azzi without being obvious about it. The soft light brought out the fine shadows beneath her eyes, the angle of her cheekbone, the way her hair brushed against her jaw.

“You know,” Paige said, voice lower now, “you don’t have to leave.”

Azzi 's fingers tightened slightly on the wine glass before setting it aside.

“I mean,” Paige added quickly, “you can. Obviously. This isn’t a trap. It’s just... late. And you’re already wearing my shirt. Which, for the record, I didn’t offer. You just took it.”

Azzi shifted, turning more toward her. “You left it on the bed.”

“That’s not consent.”

“You left it folded.”

“Still not consent.”

Azzi gave her a dry look, but Paige caught the way her eyes softened around the edges.

“You could stay,” Paige said again, quieter this time. “I’d like that.”

Azzi studied her, lips parted like she was holding something back. Her posture had relaxed, but only slightly, like her body was still trying to decide how safe it was to let go.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Azzi said. “I didn’t bring anything.”

“You brought your pretty face,” Paige said. “Everything else is negotiable.”

Azzi laughed softly, a real one this time. Paige saw the way her shoulders lowered, the weight sliding off bit by bit. Azzi’s gaze dropped to the blanket stretched across Paige’s lap. Her hand moved toward it, slow and deliberate, brushing against Paige’s knuckles.

“I wouldn’t mind staying,” she said, almost under her breath.

Paige lit up like someone had flipped a switch inside her chest.

“I’ll get you the good pillow.”

Azzi was already leaning into her, her body folding into Paige’s side like it had always known the shape of it.

“I already stole it,” she murmured.

Paige pretended to be appalled. “Unbelievable. She breaks my heart, drinks my wine, and steals my best pillow.”

Azzi didn’t answer. She just rested her head on Paige’s shoulder. Her hand stayed where it was, fingers loosely tangled with Paige’s.

Paige closed her eyes and smiled to herself, her cheek resting lightly against Azzi’s hair. It wasn’t loud or messy or complicated. It was soft, simple, and steady in a way Paige had never let herself want before.

She could get used to this.

Fudd Holdings, San Francisco. August 2025.

The monitor on the wall played the postgame feed in high definition, and Paige looked like she always did after a win—flushed. Her hair still damp from the locker room with that crooked grin working just a little too well. Her tone with the reporter was flippant, easy, but her eyes burned with focus. She looked steady. She looked like herself.

Azzi sat at her desk, arms loose against the armrests. The binder beside her remained untouched. She wasn’t pretending to review it anymore.

Nika sat on the couch with her laptop open, though she hadn’t typed in minutes. She tilted her head toward the screen, but her eyes cut back to Azzi.

“You’ve been staring at her like that since tip-off.”

Azzi didn’t look away. Paige reached off-camera and said something to someone, laughing as she took her water bottle. The sound from the speakers wasn’t loud, but Azzi could hear her tone like it was in the room.

“She’s the face of the franchise.”

“Sure,” Nika said, voice lighter now. “And you’re watching her like she’s the reason your world turns.”

Azzi kept her expression neutral. She reached for her pen and turned it slowly in her fingers. The room carried a stillness that wasn’t empty.

“She played well.”

“She played fine.” Nika stretched her legs out. “But you’re playing yourself harder.”

Azzi finally looked at her, brows raised just slightly.

Nika grinned. “You two are a thing now?”

Azzi’s fingers paused on the pen. “What makes you think that?”

Nika sat up a little straighter, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “Because I know you. And because when I came by last week, you were wearing sneakers. Not designer flats. Sneakers. Like a real person. That only ever happens when she’s around.” She tilted her head, grinning. “Also, you had takeout containers on your counter that looked suspiciously like the kind Paige orders. And you were humming.”

Azzi didn’t deny it. That was the worst part.

Nika leaned in. “Azzi Fudd. Humming.”

Azzi let out a soft exhale. Not quite a sigh. More like the release of something she had been holding in longer than she meant to.

“She calls me her non-girlfriend girlfriend.”

That got Nika to straighten. Her smile sharpened with interest.

“Oh. So we’re at terms now. Non-girlfriend girlfriend. That’s—” she laughed, sitting back against the cushion, “—actually kind of adorable. Vaguely tragic, but adorable.”

Azzi’s lips curved faintly, almost in spite of herself. Her voice stayed level. “It’s not official. But… we’re seeing each other.”

Nika raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Okay. Then what’s stopping you from being not non-girlfriend girlfriend and just being actual girlfriends?”

Azzi didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze returned to the screen, though the video had ended, and Paige’s face was gone. But the memory of it lingered—the way she looked in a postgame win, unfiltered joy behind all the cocky one-liners.

She lowered her pen to the desk, hand resting flat beside it.

“I don’t know how to be someone’s girlfriend when I’m still owned by so many expectations.”

Nika was quiet now, but it didn’t feel like pressure. She stood and walked to the desk, resting her forearms on the edge.

“Maybe stop trying to be owned by anything at all,” she said. “You already know what you want.”

Azzi’s eyes met hers. The look wasn’t defensive. It wasn’t even uncertain. It was soft, like she had been cracked open but hadn’t broken.

“I just want to protect her,” Azzi said.

“Then don’t protect her from you,” Nika replied. “Protect her with you.”

Azzi nodded once, barely more than a movement, but it was there. Nika reached for her bag, her tone softening into something almost fond.

“She calls you her non-girlfriend girlfriend.” She smiled. “But she’s ready for the real thing.”

Azzi’s condo, San Francisco. August 2025.

Azzi had nearly finished her chapter when the sound of the bathroom door creaked open. She didn’t glance up right away, too familiar now with Paige’s rhythm around the condo. The sound of bare feet padded into the living room, followed by a low huff and the unmistakable thud of someone flopping dramatically onto the couch.

Paige sprawled out across from her, hair still messy from her game-day ponytail, a loose vintage UConn tee hanging a little too perfectly over her frame. The shirt had tiny holes near the hem, like it had survived a dozen road trips. She looked smug. She looked like trouble.

Azzi’s eyes stayed on her book.

“We’re going out,” Paige said.

“No,” Azzi replied calmly, eyes not lifting from the page.

Paige leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Don’t you wanna know where?”

“I already know where this is going.”

“Wrong.” Paige grinned, proud of herself. “This is new and inspired. I’m taking you on a midnight ice cream run, babe.”

Azzi’s expression barely shifted, but her gaze flicked upward, slow and unimpressed. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m always serious about sugar and chaos.”

Azzi blinked once. “We have ice cream here.”

“But not the experience. Neon lights, weird toppings, the joy of watching me flirt with you too loud in public. That’s the real dessert, ma.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on. The shop on Seventh is still open. You love that boring vanilla.”

“I prefer simple.”

“You prefer denial.”

Azzi snapped the book shut.

Paige leaned over the arm of the couch, smile sharpening. “You’re scared someone’s gonna see us together.”

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing.

“That’s it, huh?” Paige stood, stretching with dramatic flair. “You’re worried we’ll be on some Twitter thread. 'Billionaire caught smiling at WNBA rookie. More at ten.'”

Azzi looked up at her fully now. The tension in her shoulders was subtle, but there. “You know what happens when people think they have something to whisper about.”

“Then let them whisper,” Paige said. “Or I can just go alone and pretend I’m heartbroken. One scoop of pity sprinkles, please. My non-girlfriend girlfriend left me in the cold.”

Azzi exhaled, but the edge of a smile broke through.

“I’m not dressed for outside.”

“You look like a Bond villain on her night off,” Paige said, motioning to Azzi’s perfectly draped cardigan and black joggers. “You’re more than fine, babe.”

Azzi stood with reluctant grace. She moved to grab her keys from the entry table.

Paige raised her brows. “Wait, that worked?”

“You’ve worn me down.”

“Like I planned.” Paige grinned, slipping her phone into her back pocket. “If we end up on DeuxMoi, I get to pick the picture they use.”

The walk was quiet, peaceful. Azzi kept her hood up, her hands tucked deep in her pockets. Paige walked beside her without touching, close enough for the warmth to reach. On the third accidental brush of their hands, Paige let her pinky hook around Azzi’s.

A test.

Azzi didn’t pull away.

The ice cream shop was near empty. Paige immediately ordered the most chaotic thing on the menu—brownie fudge sundae, caramel drizzle, sour gummy worms—and smiled smugly as she turned back to Azzi.

Azzi kept her order plain. Vanilla, one scoop, no toppings.

“You’re really living on the edge,” Paige teased, licking her spoon.

“Some of us don’t need our dessert to scream for attention.”

They ate on the bench outside, plastic spoons tapping gently against their cups. The city hummed around them but never too loud. Paige nudged Azzi’s shoulder with hers.

“You okay?”

Azzi hesitated. Then she nodded. “I didn’t expect it to feel this normal.”

“That’s because it is.”

Paige scooped another bite, then offered her spoon to Azzi without thinking.

Azzi took it. Slowly. Her lips brushed the edge, her gaze unreadable.

Paige’s breath hitched.

��I’m still scared,” Azzi said, voice quieter now. “But I didn’t hate tonight.”

“Good.” Paige smiled at her, soft and unguarded. “Because I’ve got at least a dozen more dates like this planned.”

Azzi rolled her eyes.

“You’re exhausting.”

Paige bumped her knee. “You’re really pretty.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you still like me.”

Azzi didn’t reply. Instead, she held Paige’s gaze for a moment longer than she meant to.

It was enough.

The night held them still for a few seconds more. Paige kept eating. Azzi watched her, looking as though maybe—just maybe—being seen like this wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Azzi’s condo, San Francisco. August 2025.

Azzi stood in front of the mirror, cotton pad in hand, smoothing a rose-colored toner across her cheekbones. She wore an oversized navy crewneck that hung loose around her hips, the sleeves pushed up her forearms. Her black lounge shorts barely showed beneath the hem. The scent of night cream and jasmine hung lightly in the air, mixing with the warm quiet of the condo.

Behind her, Paige leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, dressed in light grey UConn sweatpants and a crisp white Nike tank top that clung to her frame. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, damp at the edges from a quick rinse. She had that familiar smirk tugging at her lips, arms folded, eyes tracing every small movement Azzi made with idle fascination.

"You always look like you’re about to shoot a skincare commercial,” Paige said, chin lifting. “Do I need to dim the lights? Cue the wind machine?”

Azzi kept her focus on the mirror, a faint smile curving at the edge of her mouth. “I’ve seen your idea of skincare. You washed your face with hand soap last week.”

“It was eucalyptus,” Paige shot back. “Fancy. Exfoliating.”

Azzi turned just enough to glance over her shoulder. “It’s drying.”

“And you’re hot,” Paige said, stepping further in. “We can’t all be perfect.”

Azzi gave a soft laugh, lowering the cotton pad onto the counter. Paige moved to stand behind her, looking at their reflection. Azzi met her eyes briefly before glancing down.

“You missed a spot,” Paige murmured, reaching up to touch Azzi’s cheekbone gently.

Azzi stilled, her breath catching just slightly. “Where?”

Paige didn’t answer. She leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth instead.

It was soft, like testing the water, like remembering how many times they’d almost done this and choosing not to wait anymore. Azzi turned fully into her, hands sliding up Paige’s sides as if pulled there without thought. Paige’s palms pressed to her lower back, grounding them both.

The second kiss was slower, deeper. Azzi tilted her chin up, lips parting to welcome the weight of it. She kissed like it was something sacred, like she didn’t trust the moment to last unless she carved it into memory. Paige felt her entire chest tighten as their mouths moved together in rhythm, steady and full of something tender and raw.

Azzi backed up slightly until her hips touched the edge of the sink. Paige followed her, hands slipping under the hem of her sweatshirt, fingers resting lightly on her bare waist. She could feel Azzi trembling slightly beneath her touch, not from nerves, but from release. It had taken so long to get here, through weeks of dancing around what they both knew.

Azzi kissed her again, this time with hunger. One hand curled into the fabric of Paige’s tank top, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. Paige groaned softly into her mouth, one hand rising to cup the side of Azzi’s face, thumb grazing her jaw. The other slipped down to Azzi’s thigh, fingertips brushing bare skin.

Azzi let out a breath against her lips. “Do you want to stop?”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. Her voice was low, sure. “Only if you tell me to, baby.”

Azzi didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled Paige in again, kissing her with everything she hadn’t said out loud.

Paige kissed her back like restraint had finally snapped. Mouth hungry, hands firm, tongue sliding past Azzi’s with intention.

She crowded Azzi back against the counter, her body pressed close enough that Azzi could feel the slight tremble in her thighs. Every movement felt deliberate. Every breath between them was charged.

Azzi clung to her, hands locked behind Paige’s neck, mouth parted as she met each kiss with growing need. The edge of her shirt slipping off her shoulder. Paige kissed there, then lower, dragging her teeth just enough to draw a sharp inhale.

“So beautiful, ma.” Paige muttered, her voice rough, her hands moving over Azzi’s sides, then gripping her hips. “It’s making me lose control.”

Azzi met her eyes, her lips still parted, her breath uneven. “I want you to lose control.”

That did something to Paige.

She gripped beneath Azzi’s thighs, lifted her with ease, and placed her on the bathroom counter. Azzi let out a soft sound, startled by the sudden height, her legs instinctively wrapping around Paige’s hips for balance. Her shorts rode up, smooth skin against the marble, her body fully exposed to the warmth between them.

Paige stepped in close, settling her hands on Azzi’s thighs. Her thumbs brushed the inside, teasing little circles higher and higher, never quite reaching where Azzi wanted her. She kissed her again, slower now, more drawn out. Her lips trailed from Azzi’s mouth to the corner of her jaw, down the line of her throat, then across her collarbone. She took her time as she lifted Azzi’s shirt.

Once the oversized cloth was thrown nearby, Azzi’s hands threaded into Paige’s hair. She was holding her close as Paige kissed down her chest, using her mouth like she was learning every inch.

“Still good?” Paige murmured, her voice low, nearly a growl.

Paige brought her mouth to bare skin, tongue tracing the curve of her breast, lips soft at first, then firmer. Azzi arched gently, her breath hitching when Paige’s teeth grazed her.

Azzi answered without hesitation. “Yes. Keep going.”

That was enough.

Paige moved her mouth down again, kissing her stomach, her hips, pausing just above the waistband of Azzi’s shorts. Her hands gripped beneath them now, thumbs hooked just inside the soft cotton. She didn’t pull them off. Not yet. She nuzzled into the space just above, breathing her in.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered.

Azzi’s legs tightened around her. “Then do something about it.”

Paige laughed softly, but it cracked a little at the edges. Her restraint was thinning by the second.

She slid one hand between Azzi’s legs, touching her lightly through the shorts. Her fingers moved with care, exploring the heat already gathered there. The fabric was damp. Paige stilled for a moment, pressing in just enough to make Azzi gasp.

“God,” Paige muttered. “You’re already soaked, ma.”

Azzi exhaled a shaky breath, gripping Paige’s shoulders. Her thighs trembled against Paige’s ribs. She tried to rock forward, to chase the friction, but Paige only applied light, teasing pressure with the pad of her fingers.

She moved in slow circles, keeping the touch maddeningly soft.

Azzi’s head fell back against the mirror, her mouth falling open. Paige kissed the inside of her knee, then higher, and higher again. Her hand stayed steady, fingers never rushing, never greedy. Just steady heat, coaxing her open.

“You want more?” Paige asked, lifting her head just enough to meet her eyes.

Azzi swallowed hard, chest rising with each breath. “Yes.”

Paige smiled and finally eased her hand beneath the waistband, past the last layer between them, and touched bare skin.

Azzi jolted. The breath she took caught hard in her throat, and her legs flexed around Paige’s shoulders. Her body had already been warm, trembling, but this contact was different. This was bare. Direct. Intimate in a way that made her stomach twist and her hips rise without permission.

“Fuck,” Paige whispered, her voice gone low and reverent. “So wet for me.”

Azzi’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. She tried to say something, but all she managed was a fractured inhale.

Paige kept one hand braced under Azzi’s thigh, steadying her. The other moved slowly, teasing her folds with two fingers, sliding through her with care, not pressing in yet. She watched Azzi’s face the entire time. The way her head tipped back again, the way her lips parted just enough to let out a quiet gasp, the way her entire body started tilting forward, instinctively chasing the pressure.

“I’ve got you,” Paige murmured.

She pressed in.

Just her fingers at first, slow and shallow. Testing the give of Azzi’s body, feeling the warmth already slick and pulsing around her. She worked her way in with delicate persistence, curling just slightly, coaxing her open with each stroke.

Azzi arched forward, legs trembling. Her hands reached for Paige’s shoulders without thinking, gripping her there like it was the only thing holding her upright. Paige stayed close, one hand still firm at her thigh, her mouth brushing soft kisses along Azzi’s stomach, just below her navel.

The first full thrust of Paige’s fingers made Azzi whimper—sharp and breathless. Paige paused, then did it again, a little deeper this time. Her thumb shifted upward, pressing lightly against her clit, just enough to make Azzi shiver.

“You okay, ma?” Paige asked, voice hoarse now.

Azzi nodded, but she wasn’t steady. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

Paige set a rhythm then, slow and grounding. Her fingers curled with every stroke, drawing out a moan from deep in Azzi’s chest. She kissed along her thigh again, then moved higher, mouth finding Azzi’s breast, taking her into her mouth while her fingers continued their work below.

Azzi cried out softly, her body caught between two sensations—mouth and hand, tongue and pressure. She felt split open. Seen in a way that was dizzying. Her fingers slid into Paige’s hair, pulling gently, grounding herself as her hips started to move with the rhythm Paige set.

“Just like that,” Azzi whispered, barely able to speak.

Paige smiled against her skin. “I know, baby.”

She fucked her slow but sure, every thrust precise. Her thumb moved with more pressure now, faster as Azzi neared the edge. Paige could feel the way her walls clenched around her fingers, how Azzi’s breath had turned to short, broken gasps.

“You close?” she asked, pressing her mouth to Azzi’s neck.

Azzi’s response was a frantic nod, followed by her entire body pulling tight, thighs trembling, muscles locking as the pleasure crested and broke all at once. She came hard, her moan caught against Paige’s shoulder, nails digging into her back as she shook through it.

Paige didn’t pull away as she stood up. She kept her fingers inside, slowing her hand until Azzi was breathing again, her body softening against her.

Azzi slumped forward, arms slipping around Paige’s neck, holding her close. Her breath was hot against Paige’s ear. Paige kissed her temple and held her there, one arm wrapped fully around her back now, steadying her on the counter.

Neither of them spoke.

Paige let her come down slow, her fingers finally easing out. She helped Azzi rest back against the mirror, her thumb brushing gently over the inside of her thigh.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. Her lips were kiss-bruised, cheeks flushed, chest still rising fast.

“You good, baby?” Paige asked softly.

Azzi reached up, touching her jaw with trembling fingers. “More than okay.”

Her breath was still coming in shallow waves when Paige pressed her mouth to her shoulder, lips lingering in the dip of bone and skin. Neither of them said anything, but the air between them was full—heavy with heat, the weight of what they’d just crossed, and the ache of what was still to come.

Paige’s hands smoothed along the outside of Azzi’s thighs, then under, lifting her gently from the counter. Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s shoulders as she was carried out of the bathroom, legs still trembling slightly around Paige’s waist. Her body felt loose and overrun, but she didn’t want distance. She wanted more.

The room beyond was dim. The bed was turned down but untouched, the sheets still neat. Paige lowered Azzi slowly onto them, kissing her once at the top of her chest before kneeling beside the mattress. She looked up at her—really looked—eyes raking over flushed skin, the bare torso, the shorts clinging to her hips.

Paige reached up and tugged them the rest of the way off.

Azzi lay back, her breathing just beginning to steady, but her eyes didn’t waver from Paige. There was no uncertainty anymore. Just want, thick and quiet between them.

Paige leaned forward and kissed her stomach. Then lower. Her hands spread across Azzi’s thighs again, coaxing them apart. Her mouth followed the line of her hip, then the sensitive skin just beside it. Azzi shivered under her, fingers gripping the sheets. Paige watched her, her voice a low murmur against her skin.

“You look so good like this.”

Azzi didn’t speak. Her lips parted, her eyes hazy as Paige kissed just above where she had touched her before. Teasing again. Slower now. This was about savoring. About learning what it meant to be wanted completely.

Paige slid her tongue through her folds, a soft, wet stroke that made Azzi’s hips lift from the bed. Paige held her in place and did it again, slower this time, tongue pressing deeper, flatter. Azzi moaned, head falling back into the pillow, one hand sliding into Paige’s hair.

Paige licked into her with the same rhythm her fingers had found earlier, steady and precise, drawing out sounds Azzi had never made. She dragged the tip of her tongue up to her clit and circled, teasing, then wrapped her lips around it and sucked gently, then harder when Azzi’s hips jumped.

“God,” Azzi whispered. “Paige…”

Paige responded by gripping her thighs tighter and going deeper.

Azzi fell apart again slowly, unraveling under each stroke of Paige’s tongue, every flick and pull perfectly paced. Her whole body arched when Paige flattened her tongue and pressed harder, dragging her mouth across her until Azzi could barely breathe.

She came again with a sharp, involuntary cry, thighs clenching around Paige’s shoulders, one hand fisting the sheets and the other still locked in Paige’s hair. Paige kept going until the spasms faded, until Azzi’s body slumped back onto the mattress, twitching with aftershocks.

Only then did Paige slow, her kisses softer now, mouth gentle as she kissed the inside of Azzi’s thigh, the space just above her mound, the curve of her hipbone. She moved up slowly, body skimming against Azzi’s until they were face to face again.

Azzi opened her eyes, dazed and soft, skin flushed and dewy. She reached for her, fingers sliding up the back of Paige’s neck.

Paige didn’t speak. She just kissed her, deep and quiet, letting Azzi taste herself on her lips.

Azzi’s hand moved to her waist, pulling Paige over her, wrapping both arms around her back. Her voice was low, nearly swallowed against Paige’s mouth.

“Your turn.”

Paige smiled into the kiss. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “Now, you make me want to lose control.”

Paige kissed her again, then rolled her hips once, slow and firm, letting Azzi feel just how badly she wanted it too.

“Whatever you say, boss lady.”

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi fic #pazzi #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfic #uconn wbb #azzi fudd fanfiction #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #terms of play series

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blossomcola · 1 day ago

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Mean r overstimulating Karina with her tits:( that's literally stuck on my head since Dirty Work release because we need to talk about sub!Karina

pairing. needy!karina x fem reader.

content warnings. nipple play, titsucking.

karina knows she has the most beautiful pair of tits and that made her develop new ideas in her head. you don’t have to be very smart to know that she can most likely cum in her pants just by someone playing with her nipples because she probably spends day and night playing and pinching her nipples to train herself :( even if she is being fucked and her breasts are not getting enough attention or are not being touched at all, it wouldn’t take long for Karina to bring her hands to her own chest and shamelessly touch herself until you get the cue and finally start giving her the real attention she wants.

i know she would wear the shortest or tightest shirts when she is with you because she wants your full attention, yes, she is an attention whore too. when she feels that the clothes are not yet perfectly cut or made, she would surely adjust her shirt in the middle of her sentence or she would prefer to do it when she is concentrating on “listening” to you speak because she would love how your gaze drops for a second while your words slur a little as you unconsciously look at her chest. karina would do things in a sneaky or casual way but both you and she know that she is just pretending to have no idea what she is doing just to provoke you.

and she swims shirtless in the comfort of your shared home so you can play with her chest whenever you feel the need or just when you’re bored <3 there are times when you can be sitting on the couch watching anything on tv and out of nowhere she will jump on your lap without saying absolutely anything because she doesn’t need words to let you know what she wants: attention on her tits, and who are you to refuse when you also want the same thing as karina?

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

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mrbeefgnaw · 6 hours ago

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So my dad and stepmom used to go to a friend's house for Uno night, and the house rule in this friend group encouraged cheating but if you got caught, you had to... I don't remember exactly what the consequences entailed but I want to say it was something like "you have to buy the pizza/beer/whatever for the whole group next week."

Anyway, this led to a bunch of people finding a lot of fun and exciting ways to cheat at a card game that has been known to lead to Violence in some friend groups! But because of that house rule, cheating was just... part of the fun.

Enter my dad. You know how they say "it's the quiet ones you gotta watch?" They wrote that about my dad. My dad was very quiet. He was also very smart, and he had a wicked sense of humor that he would spring on you when you least expected it. My dad was a Certified Little Shit, and everyone in this friend group knew it. So naturally, they watched him like a hawk at first. He never cheated. Not even once. So they quit watching.

Little did they know what he was brewing behind the scenes. And he might have gotten away with it... if more friends hadn't shown up unannounced the night he sprung it.

I'm not sure if my stepmom was in on this from the beginning. She says she didn't know what he was planning, but there's no way she could have not noticed Dad picking up another Uno deck every time he saw one at the store for weeks leading up to this incident. Anyway, what Dad did was, he bought like... a bunch of Uno decks. And picked all the Wild Draw Fours out. And put them aside. For later.

When "later" arrived, Dad sat down at the table, palmed a stack of at least ten Wild Draw Fours out of his hip pocket, and tucked them in the little crack where you pull an old-school dining table apart to add the extra leaf, to be palmed back into his hand as the need arose. He was ready.

And then more company arrived.

And the hosts decided to put the extra leaf in the table to accommodate them.

And all my dad could do was watch as they pulled the table open and his weapons of mass destruction came fluttering out right there in front of the hosts and the rest of the group and God and everyone.

How did the hosts and the rest of the friend group react?

Were they mad?

Hell no they weren't mad! They fucking loved it! The second it sank in that hey wait wasn't [Beefgnaw's dad] sitting there!? they lost their absolute SHIT! You'd think this was the funniest shit they'd ever seen in their whole lives, and it might have been.

Now, in hindsight, Dad probably would have gotten caught eventually. Had he actually managed to deploy his illicit Wild Draw Fours, surely sooner or later someone would have noticed a) that there seemed to be an unusually high number of Wild Draw Fours being played that night and b) that they were being played from my dad's hand, and put the pieces together, and they might have checked under the table and spotted his stash. Hell, he had to know there was a non-zero chance of my stepmom ratting him out (to distract from whatever cheat she was brewing that week). Maybe Dad just felt like buying pizza/beer/whatever for the group one week and figured he might as well be a Little Shit about it, I dunno.

Would this fly in every friend group? Nah, of course not. But it flew in this one, and it added an extra layer of fun, excitement, and opportunities to lovingly roast each other.

i dont know why anyone else misses analog board games, but to me, it's because physical parts let me cheat. there's no moving pieces around when someone isnt looking in a chess app, no sneaking bonus pieces out of the graveyard in checkers, no double drawing cards in go fish.

i spent years developing those skills as a Professional Little Brother. what am i supposed to do now, go back to college? learn how to play games the right way? i mean, who gives a shit? the fun part was never the game, it was the Getting Away With It. or, you know, for the rest of my family, Catching The Bastard. now that was entertainment.

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curlysswirlywirly · 1 day ago

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mark variants x sick reader headcannons pls🧌

CHERRY LOZENGES

⋆ MAINSTREAM!MARK’s whole demeanor becomes skittish, pulled thin across the tension of trying not to panic. he watches over you with puppy eyes and this hovering, half-useful presence that keeps switching between putting a cold compress on your forehead and knocking over the nightstand reaching for tissues. he keeps busy by doing things that aren’t necessary but feel urgent to him. he flips the pillow three times in an hour, reads the thermometer twice every time he checks it and then logs the result in his notes app like this is a hospital and he’s on a shift. when you cough too hard or sniff too loud, he winces in pain, and then immediately asks if you need anything. he does this on a loop: asks, doesn’t believe your answer, leaves anyway, returns with too many things such as two different brands of cough drops, a heat pack, a banana he never asked if you wanted, and soup he tried to make from scratch but forgot to salt, so it tastes faintly of wet sponge and carrots. he sets it down carefully on a napkin and apologizes for how it looks. he stays close by sitting at the edge of the bed and not touching you until you reach first. panics when you sleep too long. kisses your hand once then wipes it off because “wait, that was dumb, i’m sorry—” but he does it again five minutes later without thinking. types “what to do when someone is sick but it’s not covid” into a private browser tab. texts you from the bathroom: need anything? also i miss you.

⋆ MOHAWK!MARK accuses you of faking it the moment you groan too dramatically or toss your arm over your eyes. he calls you soft and laughs when your voice gets hoarse until you cough so hard your eyes water, and then he shuts up fast, finally realizing it’s worse than he thought. he HATES seeing you bundled up and still looking pitiful under three blankets. keeps muttering stuff like “damn, you’re really down bad, huh?” while tucking your onion-filled socks tighter and rubbing your calves. yes he believes in old-wive’s tale remedies. yes he makes fun of your breath until it smells like cough syrup and then suddenly he wants to be close again. he kisses your temple and whispers “you taste like robitussin, nasty as hell” but he overall he isn’t completely useless since he brings water and flu meds without being asked. a sweet thing he does is keeps the tv playing dumb stuff you like so you don’t feel lonely. rolls you a joint for when your throat stops feeling like knives. he pours nyquil into the cap but blows on it like it’s tea, calls it medicine kisses when he takes a sip and then presses your mouth open with his thumb so you’ll drink too. also he took a selfie with your sick self and sent it to himself with the caption “my girl got the plague 😵‍💫”

⋆ SINISTER!MARK doesn’t acknowledge the cold like it matters. you’re literally whimpering and he’s like yeah. you’re human. you get weak. duh! he accepts this with the same clinical detachment he’d use to study the structure of your molars. he doesn’t leave though. he sits by your side, eyes pinned to your face cataloguing every change. his hands stay on your leg and he forces pills into your palm and waits until you take them. he watches your throat move when you swallow and when you mumble out a sorry for being gross, he says, “you’re not.” later, when you fall asleep, he lifts your wrist gently to “check your pulse” but it’s really just because he hates how quiet you get when you’re not fighting.

⋆ SHEISTY!MARK fake gags when you cough. wipes your nose with too much pressure and calls you boogerface. steals your tissues. rubs vapo-rub into your chest with both palms and says damn, that’s some adult content but doesn’t stop. leaves orange gatorades on every surface so you don’t have to look for one. forces you to watch old tyra banks clips because he says it’s “healing media.” gets upset when you fall asleep because that was the good part! when you’re too congested to kiss, he kisses the tip of your nose and pretends it’s better than making out. it really isn’t. he gives up trying to be chaste and kisses you anyway. STEALS your lozenges just to suck on them and then spits them out. orders takeout you can’t eat and brags about how good it is in front of you. he still slides you the fries. eventually ends up shirtless, legs splayed across the bed, one hand on your knee, mumbling “don’t die, alright? that’d be mad annoying.” all in all it’s a miracle if you end up making a recovery.

⋆ OMNI!MARK has never looked more visibly shaken. genuinely believes a standard virus could do permanent damage. he sits still on the edge of the bed fully believing that if he breathes wrong something irreversible will happen. he keeps his hands folded so he doesn’t shake. stares at your chest to count your breaths. he doesn’t quite understand how human immune systems work so he thinks everything is fatal until proven otherwise. this man will not sleep because every other minute he wipes your forehead convinced because this all reminds him that one day, you will die, he will survive you and then he’ll be all alone. he tries not to think about that too hardly. when you say you’re fine, he says “you’re not” but his voice breaks halfway through.

⋆ VILTRUMITE!MARK is deeply confused for exactly twelve minutes. in an attempt to understand he asks “is this normal for you?” with genuine curiosity, then shifts into high-functioning caretaker mode. he doesn’t want you to get out of bed like at all so he carries you to the bathroom and back with a blanket around your shoulders. tries but fails only by a little to keep his voice soft even when you sneeze into his clavicle.

⋆ LENSLESS!MARK thinks it’s sexy. not kidding. he is thrilled because being sick means you’re helpless, cranky, and easy to annoy, his three favorite conditions. he lurks around you predatorily, pretending he can’t hear you when you ask for water, then drinks half your cup with a stupid smile. keeps asking if your fever dreams are fun. pulls the thermometer out halfway through because “i like surprises.” climbs into bed knowing he’ll catch it and brags about how invincible he is. tries to kiss you with tongue every time your nose whistles. grabs your face mid-sniffle and says “you’re so hot when you’re congested.” draws on your forehead in eyeliner while you nap and wipes it off just to redo it nicer. all while you’re fighting for your life btw. be threatens to lick your tissues. all day he plays doctor but not in a way that is helpful. he wears one of your white shirts open and taps your knee with a spoon to test your reflexes. the most useless, the most affectionate. he won’t leave your side even when you beg, sleeping across your lap, burning hot with love and absolutely no boundaries.

#mark grayson x reader #invincible #mark grayson #xreader #invincible x reader #invincible variants #mark x reader

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skelswritingcorner · 2 days ago

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Let Us Help You (An Eddie, Volt, & Endometriosis-having Reader fic)

So, I got into Date Everything recently and even played it on my Twitch. After watching someone play through Eddie & Volt's route, I felt like making a fic with the Skelly Special. The Skelly Special? Making fictional characters witness endometriosis.

Also, if you suspect you have endometriosis/know someone who might, please consult a medical professional, ideally one who specializes in endometriosis. They can help you better than some Vtuber on the internet writing fanfiction.

Spoilers for Eddie and Volt's route!!

Warnings: Menstruation talk, description of genitalia (specifically the vulva and vagina), a good amount of blood, accidental autism coding because I don't know how to write non-autists, medical misogyny (even if the reader is gender neutral they have a uterus so this applies by technicality), and for a lack of better words; having two people assist in changing menstrual products. I promise that it won't be horny, just weirdly suggestive because I think it's in character for Volt.

Word Count: 2.5K

It’s that time again. The time where you need to change out menstrual products twice as often as the average person due to your profuse amount of bleeding, take a strong enough painkiller so you can pretend your uterus is not trying to kill you, and go slightly insane over a weird craving that happens sometimes. That, and pray that you don’t have to call an ambulance so you can get an emergency blood transfusion. Again.

After putting in the first of possibly four menstrual cups you’ll have to put in for the day, you carefully stepped down the stairs to go to the kitchen, holding onto the railing for dear life. You needed something to consume before taking your painkillers, not doing so is a hot ticket to puke town. However, the thing you were craving enough to drive you crazy was just whipped cream. Whipped cream in a bowl. Just gonna hope that you actually have whipped cream.

Using your dateviators, you beamed the fridge to summon Freddy. When he looked down at you, he seemed to already know what was going on. “Need something quick to eat, cool kid?”

“Any whipped cream?” you groaned, arm wrapped around your stomach.

Freddy reached into his coat, procuring a can of it, “Yes I do! But I think you should at LEAST have something else too. Something with… density?”

Taking the can, you placed it down before grabbing a bowl, “I got some crackers to go with them. Combination of salty and sweet.” You grabbed a box of crackers from the cabinet, placing them on the counter as you shook the can of whipped cream.

“Well, if you say so.” Freddy walked off, procuring something from his coat to place on the table. It was a glass of water, of course. You walked to the table to set down the bowl, grabbing a spoon on your way. Once you ate all the whipped cream, you some of the crackers into the bowl, eating those too.

Once you ate, you grabbed a long orange pill bottle full of very large pills. Those were your painkillers, meant to last around eight or so hours. Ibuprofen could only go so far, after that one incident when Sam had to call an ambulance for you during a night out is burned into your head. Gulping down the rest of the water after putting the pill in your mouth, you took some time to prepare for the rest of the day.

You talked to more of the dateables; Telly, bearing Jean Loo rapping as you changed your menstrual cup in the afternoon, even going to inform Washford that him and Drysdale might need to clean bloody clothes again. Just anything, anything, to keep your mind occupied. In due time, night fell, and you were on your last charge.

Eventually, you went to the Breaker Box. You recently helped Eddie and Volt with their faulty wire, about a few days ago. Even though both of them say that they’re fine, you still wanted to check on the two regardless. But the roles might be reversed this time, given the look Volt gave you the moment you entered the bar.

“Live wire, are you feeling well?” Volt walked up to you, observing with his light eyes, “Your skin is looking rather pale, and a moment from passing out.”

You shook your hands in front of yourself, “I’m fine! This is normal for me on my period, at least it’s not to the point of calling my friend to take me to the hospital or anything for a blood transfusion!”

A hand snaked itself around your waist, and the voice of Eddie rang in your ears, “You’re worse than me at this, for amps sake. If we have to, we will drag you to your room and make you rest.”

Unfortunately, you doubled down to the two, “I promised to help the two of y’all with the wiring every night! I can’t skip a day becaus- MMF!” a shot of pain straight from your uterus led you to fold into yourself, and falling forward. Volt caught you in his arms, his supple pectorals cushioning your face.

Volt clicked his tongue, “And you almost fell to the floor. Eddie, should we keep them here?”

Eddie grunted, wrapping his arms across your back and under your knees, hoisting you up, “Based on what just happened, it’s best that we keep Y/N here.”

Placing a hand on Eddie’s chest, you tried to wriggle out of his arms, “Seriously, I’m gonna be fine. I’ve had this condition for what, over a decade now? I know how to take care of myself.” That, and you needed to change your menstrual cup and didn’t want the embarassment of them seeing the bloodbath. “Can I at least use the bathroom first? Alone?”

Volt puffed out his cheeks, squinting at you. Eddie just shook his head, in that not mad but disappointed energy that you’d expect from your own parents. “Fine. But if we hear you falling, I’m opening the door immediately. I’m still carrying you there, though.”

So you ended up just letting Eddie carry you to the bathroom. When he set you down, you ended up realizing how wobbly you were, god damn anemia ruining your day.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed, “why does my anemia have to start setting in right now?”

Eddie placed his hands on your shoulders, “Are you sure that you can be by your own?”

A blush creeped itself up your cheeks. Does Eddie realize what he’s going to see? You might be in a relationship with him and Volt, but you think it’s way too early to have either of them see your vulva in its bloodiest state. Do they even know what menstrual products are? Would they be disgusted?

“Are you worried, live wire? Rest assured, we will take good care of you,” Volt appeared, kneeling in front of you, “Eddie and I may not know what exactly is happening with your body,” he took your left hand in his, planting a kiss on your palm, “but you helped us, saved us. Wouldn’t it be cruel if we don’t help you back?”

Sighing in defeat, you relented, “Alright, I’ll let you two help. Just… at least wear some disposable gloves. It’s going to be… extremely bloody.”

Letting the two assist you to the toilet seat, you grabbed a drawstring bag from your pocket. Undoing the string, you took out a black menstrual cup and placed it on top of the bag. Eddie raised an eyebrow, “What’s that for? It looks like a silicone funnel.”

“A menstrual cup,” you explained, “it’s not a funnel, or else it wouldn’t be useful for my purposes. The stem is for ease of taking it out, and the cup is to contain the blood. It’s meant to last twelve hours before needing to remove it.”

Eddie nodded, turning to Volt. “I’ll go grab some gloves. Once I get back, you can tell us what we need to do.”

It didn’t take long for Eddie to leave and come back with two pairs of black nitrile gloves. He gave one pair to Volt, and they both put the gloves on.

“Ready, livewire?” Volt asked, cocking his head.

You nodded, “I’ll have to lift up the seat and pull my pants down, but yeah.” Cautiously, you gripped the counter as you lifted the lid of the toilet, pulling down your sweatpants as you sat back down.

“So, we just need to take out one thing and replace it with another? Sounds simple enough.” Eddie knelt down in front of you, Volt moving to your left side. “Where do I need to go?”

Pausing, you covered your face with your hands to hopefully hide your blush, “It’s… you have to stick your fingers inside me in order to get it. The one I’m wearing has a ring on the stem that you can grab.”

Another hand placed itself on your thigh, pulling it toward the location of Volt, “Don’t worry, live wire. I can keep you… distracted as Eddie works his magic.”

Making a gap with your fingers to see Eddie, you nodded; a silent confirmation to proceed. He nods back, using his right arm to hold your leg and his left to… ‘assist.’ Going down from the hair on your pelvic mound, he lightly pushed on your vulva with a finger, “In here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then,” Eddie placed his right hand on your stomach, tilting your pelvis for easier access, “say something if you get any pain.” He then positioned his finger in between the lips of the vulva, pushing it inside. Since you expected it, you didn’t jerk or make a peep. When he felt the cup, he hooked his finger around the ring. “I think I got it. Ready?” Eddie waited for you to nod again, and he slowly pulled out the cup.

Once it was out, Eddie investigated the contents. Volt leaned in to investigate as well, “Oh dear,” he winced, “that looks to be what? Two ounces of blood?”

“My flow tends to be quite heavy. There’s probably a chunk or two of uterine lining too. Just pour the contents into the toilet bowl and clean it with water, I’ll sanitize it later.” you explained, grabbing the other menstrual cup. Both cups were rather large, but the black one had a stem and the pink with the ring.

Eddie got up from his kneeling position once he dumped the contents, going to the sink to wash off the excess blood. You could feel some of your menstrual blood coming fresh from the pussy falling into the toilet bowl, but at this point you lost any fucks to give.

Grabbing the black cup, Eddie went back to his earlier position, investigating the thick silicone. “How do you put this in? I don’t think it involves shoving it inside you.” he asked.

“Oh yeah, you fold it, give it here and I’ll show how,” Eddie gave the cup to you, and you pinched the sides together, making a taco-like shape with the fold, “You have to make sure it’s unfolded when inside, usually you gotta feel around for any folds and unfold them.”

You handed the folded up cup back to Eddie, who nodded. More confident now, he pried open your vulva with one hand, pushing your menstrual cup in with another. Volt rubbed circles into your thigh, slight tingles appearing where his fingers went. After a bit of prodding from Eddie’s end, he grabbed some of the toilet paper, wiping off the blood that seeped out of the vaginal canal, along with the blood that went past the cup.

“Alright, it’s over now.” Eddie took off his gloves once putting the toilet paper in the toilet, putting them in a trash bin nearby. Volt helped to hoist you up, and to help put your underwear and pants back on you before also throwing away his gloves.

“Well, Eddie,” Volt looked over to Eddie, “let’s situate our little live wire at their own table. I doubt that they can do much in regards to maintenance right now.”

You rolled your eyes, “You remind me of the bartender I used to work with back in college right now, Volt.”

Eddie cocked his head, hands on his hips, “You worked at a bar, Y/N?”

“I’ll explain once we’re not in a bathroom.” Grabbing the used menstrual cup and placing it in the drawstring bag, you let Volt carry you to one of the VIP tables. When he set you down, he and Eddie grabbed seats as well.

“So, you worked at a bar during college?” Volt asked.

You nodded, “College town. I started off as a barback. The bartender taught me a lot about making cocktails; what alcohols go together, what flavors should never be combined, and how to crush up ice real good. His wife also has my condition, so he knew what I was going through. I remember that he forced me to take time off during the first few days of my period.”

“And what is your condition called?”

“Endometriosis. Basically, my uterine lining appears outside the uterus and on other organs. It fucks with fertility, so chances of me carrying a fetus to term would be pretty low. Despite there being a chance, I’d like to not bring someone into the world that will suffer like I do.” you explained.

The way Volt looked at you, it felt like you broke his heart. “How…” Volt paused, contemplating before continuing his question, “How far does it go? The lining?”

You pointed to your head, “Oh, it can go up to the brain. And fuse organs together. I tried to get a hysterectomy some time back, but my gynecologist said that they wouldn’t go with it unless I’m like, married and have kids.”

“Oh, our poor little spark,” Volt lamented, “I can’t believe that someone would force you to suffer for so long. Who are they?”

“Volt,” Eddie warned, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to electrocute someone.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I agree. I no longer go to that gynecologist anymore… or any, for that matter. That experience turned me away from going to one ever since. Probably a bad idea, but I’m not gonna bother with trying to find a new practice until my current job situation is resolved.”

“Anyway,” you grabbed your phone, “I’m gonna go sit here until the club’s closed. Don’t worry about me, I’ll keep myself planted here.”

The two nodded, and left you at the table to open the club.

♦♦♦

Eventually, the club closed, and everyone left. Except for you, since you were passed out. Head resting on the table, eyes shut, and dateviators awkwardly skewed.

Eddie looked over at your sleeping figure, chuckling to himself. He gently lifted your head from the table, lifting you into his arms. You didn’t even stir from your slumber.

“Exhausted, huh? Guess we can do the daily maintenance together some other time.” Eddie muttered to himself, looking over at Volt.

“Is our live wire asleep?” Volt whispered to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered back, “I’m gonna take them to their bedroom.”

It took no words for Volt to follow Eddie out the Breaker Box and into your room, helping his counterpart situate you on the bed. Volt made sure to take the bag with the menstrual cup out of your pocket, placing it on the nightstand.

Eddie knelt over your sleeping form, kissing your forehead before removing the dateviators off you, placing them next to the bag on the nightstand. The two then left your room, letting you slumber away.

(I am full of regret)

#menstruation cw #endometriosis cw #date everything #date everything x reader #eddie and volt #volt and eddie #date everything volt #date everything eddie #eddie and volt x reader #volt and eddie x reader #eddison watts #volt date everything #the whipped cream thing is from personal experience btw

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magicalqueennightmare · 22 hours ago

Text

Hat Rule

John Walker x Reader

A night out ends up with John finally making a claim on you

Car sex?

John’s eyes followed you as you danced with Yelena. The way you moved, twirling the blonde around, laughter falling from you both. This whole night had been Alexei’s idea. “Come on! It’s a cowboy bar!” John had not wanted to come out but you’d jumped at the idea so he found himself trudging out with the group.

You, Yelena and Ava were all dolled up. You had your hair down loose around your shoulders, jeans tight enough he wasn’t quite sure they weren’t just painted on and a top that was low cut enough he could tell you had a black lace bra on if you moved right. He shifted the hat he’d somehow gotten talked into wearing on his head. He was from Georgia, wasn’t the first cowboy hat to grace his head. He’d simply put it on tonight because your words had been “Please John?” and he couldn’t tell you no.

That was also how you’d gotten pulled out onto the dance floor with Yelena and Bob. While he’d grown up in Georgia, you’d also grown up in the more southern states as well. Hell the accident that resulted in your powers happened on your uncle’s farm. That meant you were staying step for step with the crowd and teaching Yelena and Bob.

“She’s good” Alexei spoke, walking up next to him and he nodded “Yeah” Alexei bumped his arm “Go dance with her” “Naw, two left feet man” Ava laughed from a few feet away where her and Bucky were playing pool “That’s a funny way to say I’m a chicken shit and when me and her got close I lied and told her I wasn’t looking for anything like that so now I’m terrified she’ll wise up and find someone else”

Bucky shrugged “It really is” John shook his head, sipping the bourbon in his glass. He couldn’t get drunk so he’d gone more for taste for once. He watched you and when a couples dance started, you encouraged Bob and Yelena on the steps and started to walk off the floor when a man approached you “Uh oh” Ava whispered in a sing-song voice.

The guy was built pretty well, a little shorter than John. A black cowboy hat sat atop his head and you grinned at something he said before holding your hand out and let him lead you onto the dance floor. “Um Walker, looks like you better figure out what it is you want before someone else does” Bucky muttered, taking a drink out of his own bourbon as the four of them watched you be twirled around the dance floor by mr black hat.

_________________________

When the song ended you thanked Tristan for the dance and he winked at you “Any time darlin” before he walked towards the bar. You watched him for a second before your eyes landed on the rest of your group. Bucky and Ava were playing pool, Alexei was waving to Bob and Yelena but John? He looked like he had gargled fucking gravel. What was his problem? This was supposed to be a fun night out.

You were busy having a stare off with John when Bob and Yelena both grabbed an arm a piece on you and that broke your stare away from John. “Let's get a drink!” Yelena laughed and you grinned “Yeah, I need one”

You ordered a bourbon neat, leaning on the bar next to Alexei as he rambled about his glory days. You nodded where you should, considering bribing Bob to let you at the pool table when you felt someone slide up to your other side and knew who it was without looking. “Hey John”

You took your glass after the bartender sat it down and turned to face him. God it was unfair how good looking he was. The fucking cowboy hat just added to it. His eyes flickered down your body, a trail of heat following like a physical touch. “Have fun dancing?” you raised an eyebrow “Yeah, taught Yelena and Bob some moves” he nodded, leaning close enough you could feel his breath on your neck when he spoke into your ear “Looked like someone else was wanting you to teach them some moves”

You turned your head to look up at him and smiled as sweetly as you could “If you don’t want me, I’m allowed to find someone who does. Make a claim or sit down” you pushed past him to walk over to Yelena, feeling his gaze on you the entire time.

Yelena looked up when she saw you and grinned a little too broadly “No” you warned before she could ever ask. Bucky started laughing “Told ya she’d say no” “On what?” you were curious, you had to admit. Ava grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards the corner of the bar where a mechanical bull sat “They have open sign ups” you raised an eyebrow then looked back over at John before laughing “Oh sign me the hell up”

______________________

John was still at the bar, nursing a bourbon and his wounded pride when he heard the mechanical bull warming up and realized the rest of you were heading that way. He finished his drink and fell in. He put Yelena and Ava between you and him, trying to think of what to say to you when the announcer read over the sign up sheet and whistled “Ladies and gents we have a treat tonight! An honest to god avenger here looking to ride”

“You riding?” he asked Bucky who shook his head as you slipped under the chain into the area where the mechanical bull sat. Holy fuck, you were trying to kill him. “Let's give it up for her and get some music started”

He recognised the song the moment it started and from your grin you did too. “Good ride Cowboy”

You hopped up on the machine and nodded to the operator. “Ok, let’s see what she’s got” The first few circles were slow, easy. You looked at the operator and yawned before motioning with your fingers in a circle like the shape of a tornado. “Woo we got a live one” the operator laughed and cranked it up.

John could feel sweat start to form on the back of his neck as he watched you. The way your hips twisted along with the machine, your body grinding down to stay correct in the saddle, your thighs clenching to ensure you didn’t fall off, back arching just slightly. Your breasts bounced tauntingly along with the bucks and jerks but you weren’t fazed. You motioned again and the operator hit it again and you had a smirk on your face like you knew the entire damn crowd had their eyes on you.

When the buzzer went off for eight seconds, the bar exploded in cheers. You hopped off the bull and bowed dramatically. Yelena and Ava were cheering you, that damn asshole in the black hat was looking at you like you were a meal. Your eyes were locked onto John’s like you were issuing a challenge. Lay a damn claim or someone else would and you’d let them just to get to him.

You ducked under the chain, chest heaving slightly. Yelena slapped your shoulder “That was impressive!” you laughed “Cousins were on the circuit. They taught me a thing or two”

Black hat stepped up next to you and cleared his throat. You turned to face him and John was not about to stand there and watch you get taken by any other man. He slipped his hat off his head and onto yours. You cut your eyes back at him before adjusting the hat just slightly, a smirk forming on your face as black hat just said “Good ride” and walked off.

_____________________

“What the hell was that?” Yelena asked, looking from you to John. You shook your head “Me and John are gonna go talk” she lifted an eyebrow then whistled for everyone to follow her back to the bar. You stepped closer to John and he slipped an arm around your waist, one large hand spread across your lower back “So, I made a claim. What now?”

You tapped the hat “Well Georgia boy, you know the rule” he felt his dick twitch. Fuck yeah he knew the hat rule. “My truck’s outside” he offered and you grinned “Good enough for me”.

_____________________

John’s lips were on your neck, fingers buried in your hair as you moved above him. Your jeans were abandoned in the floorboard of his truck, his own shoved down far enough you could pull his hard cock free and sink down onto it. The moment he felt your walls clenching around him, his head fell back against the seat, a low groan of your name escaping him.

Every roll of your hips pulled his cock further into you, the swollen head kissing your cervix. John grunted, hands moving to dig into the soft flesh of your hips. He wasn’t trying to control your movements, he just wanted to hold on, feel you. Your hands braced on his shoulder, the muscles in your thighs were tense, light gasps and moans leaving you as you rode him. He’d never seen a prettier sight.

The truck was rocking steadily along with the movements of your bodies, John’s hips beginning to lift off the seat to meet yours. He knew you were close, could feel it in the way you squeezed him, how your fingers had slipped under the collar of his shirt so your nails could bite into bare skin. He was glad because he was barely holding on. He slipped a hand between your bodies, teasing at your clit and when you came your teeth sank into his collarbone, a low moan of his name escaping you. He pulled you down hard against his hips as he finally allowed himself to let go too, thick ropes of cum painting your walls as you collapsed against him, body trembling slightly.

He slipped his hands under your shirt, rubbing them in soothing circles across your back “You ok baby?” you nodded, pressing a kiss to the bite mark you’d adorned him with “Sorry about this” he lifted his head and grinned at you “I loved it, I want the whole damn world knowing who just gave me the ride of my life”

You laughed breathlessly and crashed your lips against his, flicking your tongue into his mouth and gasped when he began to harden again, still buried inside of you. You pulled back and raised an eyebrow. He smirked “Sorry sweetheart, that stamina is hell” you grinned “Guess we’ll just have to go for another round then huh cowboy? Then when we get back to the tower, we need to break both of our rooms in” “Yes ma’am” he replied, lips finding yours again.

#john walker smut #john walker fanfic #john walker x y/n #john walker x reader #john walker x you #john walker x fem!reader #us agent x reader

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edwardhartenjoyer · 2 days ago

Text

A New Side Of You

A few months into your time at Darkwick, a new ghoul was announced as arriving. An assembly was held to place the new ghoul, and you went, curious who this new person was that you'd have to get to know.

To your surprise, you already knew him! It was your childhood best friend, and while very shocked to know he'd made a pact with a demon, you were also so excited to see him.

You screamed in delight and went running up to him. He grinned and pulled you into a massive hug. While not everyone was at the assembly, enough ghouls were that word spread fast.

Soon, your resident favorite ghoul finds out you know this new guy and are super close with him. Whatever, it totally doesn't bother him...right?

Featuring: Ren | Taiga | Jiro

Ren Shiranami - Ren glared daggers down at his phone screen, not daring to look up and direct his gaze at the person his glare was really for.

Why'd you have to bring that guy in here anyways?

You had come to the Mystery Diner with your childhood friend, wanting to catch up with him and chat. Though in Ren's opinion you were far too close and clingy to the guy.

You were practically draped all over him, and it made Ren sick. He pointedly ignored the fact that it was jealousy eating him up inside, instead choosing to believe it was disgust at such open affection.

I mean, you'd hung out with Ren plenty of times, even spent late nights on his bed watching movies, and every time, you'd always been so careful to not even accidently brush up against him. So why were you suddenly so clingy, especially with this guy??

Whatever, he didn't care. And if he scooched closer to you, letting your shoulders touch the next time you two watched movies, well then no he didn't okay!

Taiga Hoshibami - If this was the game you wanted to play, then two could play at this game Kitty Cat.

Taiga watched through narrowed eyes as you held onto the arm of your childhood friend as the two of you made your way through the casino.

You likely hadn't spotted the Sinostra captain, but he'd certainly spotted you. He didn't know why the two of you were there, but he did know that he hated the look of you hanging off that other guy.

If you wanted someone to cling to, he would have happily provided you his lap to sit in Kitty.

He stood up from the table, leaving it mid game. Whatever, not like he needed that money anyway. He'd been winning tables all day.

"Kitty Cat~" he purred, approaching the two of you, "The fuck you hanging off this guy for?"

"Kitty cat?" You friend laughed."That's a stupid nickname."

Taiga's eye twitched, and before he could even move for his gun you moved to stand between him and your friend.

"Taiga, no!" You pleaded. Taiga moved and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder before any of you could react.

"Hey! Dude, let MC go!" You friend exclaimed, making Taiga growl low.

"Shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in you."

"He won't hurt me, just, I'll see you later." You consoled your friend, who relented as Taiga walked off with you.

"Wanna explain?" You asked Taiga.

"Gonna teach you that you should only be hanging off me like that Kitty Cat." Taiga huffed. Oh, you weren't sure what to make of that, but you knew you had a long day ahead of you.

Jiro Kirisaki - Jiro wasn't quite sure what to make of this as he observed you with this new student.

Normally, you were quite and soft-spoken, but now, now you were loud and outgoing as you laughed and joked with your friend.

He wasn't sure why, but something in him hurt to see you like that when you hadn't been like that anytime you were with him. He'd thought the two of you were close, you often visiting the lab just to "make sure he was taking care of himself." It was puzzling then, why he'd never seen this side of you before, and why it hurt so much to see.

"Yuri, what's the emotion when you don't like seeing how somebody behaves with someone else?" Jiro asked later, as he and the doctor worked in the lab.

Yuri glanced over at him. "Would this be about our assistant and how she is spending more time around that new delinquent? Ruining her intellect is what it is, neglecting her duties here!" He huffed.

"What's that emotion?" Jiro pressed again.

"Jealousy." Yuri explained before his face grew red at the implication. "Meaning you likely have feelings for MC...Jiro don't you let this distract you from your work!"

Jealousy. Strange. Jiro quietly pondered on this as he worked. Perhaps the cure to this would be to get even closer to you so that you could be outgoing with him too.

Yes, that's what he'd do. He sent you a text telling you the time he'd come around to see you the next day. He'd just work harder at understanding you and getting closer to you, so you'd be comfortable with him. Then he wouldn't feel this burning pain of jealousy anymore.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tag list: @cloudcountry @ventisimpilysm

Wanna be added or removed? Let me know!

#tokyo debunker #ren shiranami x reader #ren shiranami #taiga hoshibami x reader #taiga hoshibami #jiro kirisaki x reader #jiro kirisaki #my fic

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h4venpha · 2 days ago

Text

⸺ vulnerability ( 18+ )

✦ sylus x reader smut contents : fem reader, sub sylus, bdsm, impact play (ass + genitalia), rimming wc : 1,965 notes : smth i wrote up on spot uhh haha its been months

There was nothing more satisfying than seeing the all-mighty, untouchable Sylus on the floor with his hands restrained. It wasn’t often you saw him in such a compromising position, except for only when you willed him into it. Sylus got on his hands and knees for you simply because it’s what you wanted. And he always gave you whatever you wanted.

“How is it down there?” You asked while your heels clicked against the hard floor, circling him like a predator.

“It’s perfect, sweetie.” Sylus huffed against the floor after he lifted his chin up to speak, hair falling over his face ungracefully.

This position was only… slightly uncomfortable; arms forced behind his back with his ass in the air and his face against the cold floor. Uncomfortable from the position itself but also from being at someone’s mercy, which he was unfamiliar with to say the least. Of course, he could easily break out of the flimsy cuffs currently holding him hostage, but that wasn’t the point. At least not this time. This was new, different, and exhilarating. Especially when it was you holding all the power over him.

You were the only person he’d willingly bend at the knee for. It was impossibly arousing, to be ruled over by you and your control. Being tied up and shoved around… Fuck he could cum just from the thought of your dominance.

Sylus hissed sharply against the floor as you suddenly snapped the leather crop against his ass and fuck does leather against leather sting more than he anticipated.

“You’re not listening are you?” You leaned down, gently patting the crop against his pretty face now, something like disappointment written across your face.

Shit, have you been talking to him?

“…I am now.” Sylus chuckled breathlessly, straining to look up at you from the floor, feeling the warmth of his brief punishment blossom over his skin.

“And it needs to stay that way unless you want to be here for longer.” You emphasized with a good press of your heel against his back, leaving dirt and grime from your heel onto his black suit vest.

“Mm, yes ma’am.” Sylus huffed, getting comfortable as he shifted his knees on the floor.

“Be a good boy.” You warned, watching him squirm slightly, reaching down to gently scratch your fingers against his scalp like a pet.

“Mhh…” Sylus mewled quietly, eyes closing.

He knew the rules. After all, moments like these were rare and special. No moving or misbehaving or you’ll start from zero again. Sylus exhaled slowly, relaxing the muscles in his thighs as he listened to the clicking of your heels stopping right behind him.

A sudden chuckle from you made Sylus raise an eyebrow, but his eyes widened when you brushed the crop against the bulge in his tight leather pants, aching for attention from its one and only mistress.

“Oh you really weren’t listening to a thing I was saying.” You clicked your tongue, smacking his bulge in light strokes, sending waves of dull pain and pleasure straight into him as he arched against the floor

“H-hm? I was- I was listening,” Sylus half chuckled, half moaned.

Sharp and fast, you snapped the crop against his ass, the impact ringing in both of your ears as he gasped, body tensing in pain from the warning hit.

“You want to lie to me now?” You grinned down at him, watching with sadistic satisfaction as he writhed in pain on the floor, knowing his skin must be burning hot already. Nothing was more satisfying than seeing him moan out from being spanked. From being dominated.

“N-No, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Sylus swallowed thickly, half turning and looking back in a slight wince. His eyebrows were furrowed as he attempted to smile at you.

So cute.

You silently pulled back for another hit, cracking the crop against other ass cheek, watching as he moaned louder. His muscles rippling in pain, tensing and aching as he panted against the floor.

God, he could feel his dick straining against his pants, shamelessly throbbing from being spanked over and over. It hurt so good he couldn’t help the blood rushing down to his groin.

“F-Fuck… hit me harder.” You could hear the smirk on his face.

You didn’t miss a beat and cracked the crop three times in quick succession against where his ass met the back of his trembling thigh, earning a ragged groan from his throat. His arms flexed against his hand cuffd, threatening to tear right through them as the sharp pain dug deep into his tender flesh. Both his skin and blood felt like they were searing with third degree burns.

“Shhh, be good, Sy.” You soothed a hand across one of his forearms, mesmerized with how his muscles relaxed immediately at your touch. He was breathing hard, straining against the himself to be good, to be a good boy for you. It hurt, it hurt so bad but it felt so good at the same time. One part of him wanted to fight but the other wanted to just melt into the floor from your hands alone.

“…More,” Sylus rasped after a moment of your soothing words.

“Here?” You asked, tapping his crotch again, stifling a laugh with your hand when he moaned unabashedly.

“Y-yes, mistress.” Sylus bit his lip, resisting the way his eyes roll back into his head. You chuckled out loud this time and resisted the urge to coo again. You could tell he was losing himself quickly, head going fuzzy and numb at this point.

“You want me to hit you here? Or you want me to touch you?” You questioned, rubbing the crop against his bulge in slow circles.

“Hit.” Sylus responded almost immediately, head going into autopilot.

“Painslut.” You sneered before popping the crop up against his clothed dick. “Don’t move.” You reached around and made quick work of his leather pants and all its buckles before pulling them down to rest at his knees, his boxer briefs following suit.

The tender skin on his ass was a beautiful scarlet. Welts raised and swollen against the plumpness of his ass cheeks. Scarlet trailed down his thigh where you spanked him there too, the muscles in his legs still trembling from the burning sensation across his skin.

“Good boy,” You soothed a gentle hand across his hot skin, feeling him twitch beneath your touch.

God, he felt like a beauty beneath your gaze. The way you praised and worshipped his burning skin, your eyes raking over his ass and his embarrassingly hard dick in between his thighs. It was such a feeling of liberation to let go in front of you.

“Leaking?,” You taunted fondly, resting your hand on his ass while kneeling down, peering down at his cock twitching and jumping at her attention as sticky precum dribbled down onto his leather pants around his knees.

“Touch me…” Sylus stirred just barely, hips swaying eagerly. Less looking and more touching. Please.

“You asked to be hit, did you not?” You rested one hand against his lower back, keeping him arched as you looked down at him, letting your question sink its way into his foggy head.

Taking hold of the leather crop, you spank his leaking dick, watching it bounce in between his legs as a rough moan ripped through him. Hips bucked forward in pleasure, seeking more. You spank his dick again. And again. A constant stream of pleasure and pain shooting into him through his cock with every smack.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” You rasped while you listened to the slaps turn wet and sticky as Sylus leaked all over the crop. You didn’t expect an answer from him at his point. He was nothing but a toy for you now. Not some powerful Leader of Onychinus anymore, just a sticky, wet mess beneath you having his cock spanked.

“Moving your hips like you want to fuck something, hm?” You taunted, delivering a firm pat to the side of his thigh. “What a shame all this dick is good for is getting spanked.” You emphasized with quick swats to his balls and taint, watching as his untouched cock jumped up.

“Fuh- fuck you.” Sylus stammered in between his raspy groans, hands clenched into fists behind his back

“Oh I’m sure you want to, baby. But that’s just too bad, isnt it.” You sighed, a dark satisfaction filling you completely from humiliating him.

“Be good and I’ll let you cum.” You spoke through the numbness in Sylus’s head, your voice being the only thing he’s holding on to now. You popped the crop against his inner thighs when he threatened to close them, forcing him wide to receive the hits he asked for.

Sylus stirred as you gently spread his ass open, peering at his asshole winking in rhythm with each spank to his balls. After popping your thumb into your mouth, you watch as he stiffened when you firmly pressed your slippery thumb to his rim and rubbed shallow circles against him.

“F-fuck, okay— let me cum, please, I need it—“ Sylus groaned hotly into the floor, back arched so prettily as sweat dripped off his forehead. His hands dug into the floor helplessly, body strung so tightly with pleasure and pain simultaneously as that familiar deep warmth spread lowly in his belly.

“You need it, huh? Show me then, show me you can cum from getting your dick spanked and your ass played with.” You said as you brought the crop back down to his length and kept your thumb on his rim a steady, slow pace even as he begged to cum. He wanted to cum? He would have to prove it.

“I-I can’t-“ Sylus gasped shakily in between his heavy breaths, just barely audible over the lewd impact of leather against wet skin.

“You can. Show me, I know you want to cum for me. Aren’t you my good boy, Sy?” You cooed down at him, condescendingly sweet. You angled the crop downwards and focused the spanks towards his dark, swollen head.

“…Yes, I’m your g-good boy.” Sylus barely squeezed out, all strained and breathy just before his hands flexed beneath their restraints as he came. High pitched moans slipped past his drooling lips as thick white pumps of cum shot from his throbbing dick, coating his inner thighs, his pants around his knees, and the floor beneath him.

You grinned devilishly, just barely helping him with the light press against his winking hole. Sylus’s muscles rippled and strained in position, held up and chasing the feeling of your thumb. Even when his dick softened, he was still strung so high, bucking back against your slick thumb.

“Good boy, I knew you could do it.” You stood, chuckling softly at his immediate whines before you kneeled to pet his head with your clean hand, soft and soothing.

“Shh, shh, I’m right here.” You whispered, caressing his scalp as you listened to Sylus’s heavy breathing finally begin to even out. Peering around his heaving body, you take in the sight of his thick, creamy cum all below him, his cock soft and swollen from being spanked so many times.

Sylus’s eyes are closed in exhaustion, soft, incoherent mumbles leaving his parted lips as he leans in towards your hand. Hair mussed and sticking to his damp forehead. Sylus so easily falling apart from your touch alone was what made all of this equal parts satisfying and freeing. His physical and mental submission, his trust in your control over him. It wasn’t often when he asked for a night like this, a sudden need for humiliation and submission to break him down by the only person he knew would put him back together in the end.

#h4venpha #⟢ love and deepspace works #✮₊ h4venpha collection #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #lads #lads smut #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #sylus lads

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autumnslance · 3 days ago

Text

As someone who's played various subscription-based MMOs over 20 years, mostly WoW and FFXIV? Yeah, you need to take breaks from the game occasionally. It does let you avoid burnout of the one thing you've been playing continually non-stop. Because no one can really do that indefinitely.

What Yoshida means by "play other games" between the patches is, you can still play FFXIV, by all means; my FC does weekly stuff together, from current content people are going slow through, to older content folks want to catch up on or certain rewards from. It's mostly social time; right now we're hitting up the last stage of the 8man for any weapon tokens folks want for alt jobs, and then doing maps or farming in Crescent. We hang out in voice chat and goof around. But the rest of the week? If I don't want to log in so I can read, or watch a movie, or play something else?

There's no pressure. I did what I needed to for this patch, I log in to hit up some weekly stuff, maybe do some alt leveling, and socialize with my FC. The rest of the time is mine.

The times I burnt out and took months-long breaks from WoW? Were the times I was pushing hard on content in some of the favorite expacs, like Wrath of the Lich King. I ended up spending several months just playing something else entirely cuz I'd wrecked my sense of fun in the game while pushing Icecrown.

It also recalibrates some things about how the game plays compared to others. If you never touch something else, or only occasionally, your sense of good and bad gameplay can become a little warped. Feedback is also more valuable when you have an idea what else is going on out there.

And, eventually, it is OK to just be done with a game and walk away for a time, or even not go back. I fell out of WoW during Legion - again, an expac I liked, with a lot of decent story and plenty of gameplay to do - because I was simply done after 13+ years. It happens. And sunk cost fallacy making you stay in a game you're not enjoying and won't further enjoy doesn't do anything good for anyone; not bitter feedback to the devs, not fellow players dealing with your negativity, not forcing yourself to do something you don't enjoy.

But also, never say never. So far I've had no desire to go back to WoW. However a lot of other people who bailed out years ago have poked their heads back in with the change in leadership and the fun folks are having in the last 2 expansions. Subscription games swing around, what one doesn't enjoy others do, stories and gameplay change and shift each patch or each expansion. That longevity and constantly shifting audience insulates the bigger games from complete ruin during sub dips.

It is, actually, a healthy model. Because it does prevent total burnout from the game. Subs resurge when a new patch drops. When a new expac comes around. And that's not counting the folks who just pay for the year to stay subbed but still go and do other things for a little while in between, maybe popping on now and then. People finished what they wanted to do, took their break, and now have returned.

And for those who didn't take a break, the doled out content over the course of the patch's life means there are still things to do over time, especially if not inhaling it the instant it drops for various reasons (I'm too old and otherwise busy to spend so much time grinding anymore so do it in smaller chunks over more time).

Having set ways to keep people caught up in gear and not feel like you've missed out on things forever if you didn't play when the content was brand new helps a lot, too, and is something WoW took too long to realize, honestly.

I do wish FFXIV would do something like the WoW tokens, though, as those help a lot with those who want to play but can't afford it, or let their subs lapse temporarily, but convincing SE execs to make that happen isn't terribly likely.

Yoshida will come out on stage and say they are specifically designing the game to encourage people to take breaks and play other stuff in between content cycles, only for the player base to try hard every piece of content in 48 hours and then start screaming that the game is dead because fewer people are playing it a month after the last content update.

#reblog for commentary #Final Fantasy XIV #Naoki Yoshida #Gameplay #Burnout #Breaks

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thedemonofcat · 3 days ago

Note

Post mountain (how original), and also post voleth meir, Jaskier is still angry with Geralt for being a dick and he’s not going to forgive him easy (can’t let himself be fooled again/let himself be used again).

Geralt is getting frustrated (constipated moron), and he corners Jaskier outside.

An argument breaks out, and Jaskier is making fair (but mean) points (geralt being a selfish bastard etc etc), and unexpectedly, Geralt punches Jaskier so hard he falls down. Jaskier just gets up, wipes away the blood then walks away, as if something was confirmed for him. Eventual happy ending but lots if angst lol

Geralt stared, breath caught in his throat.

Jaskier lay crumpled on the stone floor—his Jaskier—still where he'd collapsed after Geralt’s fist connected.

But the worst part wasn’t the blow.

It was the smile.

Jaskier looked up at him, lip split and bleeding, and smiled.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt tried, his voice barely audible over the pounding in his ears. He couldn’t look at him. The blood was still dripping—thick and red—from the corner of Jaskier’s mouth.

“It’s fine,” Jaskier said, the words disturbingly calm. He swiped the blood with the back of his hand like it was an inconvenience, not a wound. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Geralt echoed, the phrase hollow in his mouth. “Jask, I hit you.”

Jaskier shrugged, blinking up at him like it was nothing. “People hit me all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Geralt stared at him, frozen. There was no anger in Jaskier’s voice, no fear. Just quiet resignation.

“That’s not normal,” Geralt whispered.

Jaskier laughed—soft, dry, and empty. “It is for me.” He smiled wider now, teeth pink with blood. “My father used to beat me until I couldn’t breathe. Then my mother would give me sweets, or a new lute. Like a reward for surviving. In Oxenfurt, my professor locked me in a practice room with a collar around my neck. Said I played better when I was desperate.”

He lifted his wrists, as if showing off invisible jewelry. “The cuffs left marks. I still have them. You want to see?”

Geralt’s stomach turned.

Jaskier tilted his head, watching him with something between expectation and exhaustion. “It’s always been like this. Pain first. Then affection. You left me on a mountain to rot, Geralt. Then a year later you drag me to Kaer Morhen and call me ‘friend’ in front of your brothers.” He gave a crooked grin. “That’s love, right? You hurt me. Then you let me stay.”

Geralt couldn’t speak.

Jaskier seemed to be waiting for something—for whatever came next. A pat on the head? Another hit? A kiss?

He looked like someone who had long since accepted that kindness was always preceded by cruelty.

Maybe Geralt hadn’t laid the first stone in the wall around Jaskier’s heart. But he was the one who had smashed through what little was left standing.

Without a word, he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the bard.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Jaskier replied, almost cheerfully. “I’m used to it.”

Geralt held him tighter, his chest aching.

“I’m sorry.”

This time, Jaskier’s voice broke. “I promise I’ll be better.”

Geralt didn’t let go. “No,” he said, the word scraping his throat. “You don’t have to be better. You were never the one who needed to change.”

But Jaskier was already shaking, the laughter dying in his throat as it turned to sobs.

And in Geralt’s arms, the bard finally shattered.

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gabbysthoughts4thots · 2 days ago

Text

Arne’s statement:

“What to say? What can anyone say at a time like this when the shock and the pain is so incredibly raw? I wish I had the words but I know I do not.

All I have are feelings that I know so many people will share about a person and a player we loved dearly and a family we care so much about.

My first thoughts are not those of a football manager.

They are of a father, a son, a brother and an uncle and they belong to the family of Diogo and Andre Silva who have experienced such an unimaginable loss.

My message to them is very clear - you will never walk alone. The players, the staff, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club are all with you and from what I have seen today, the same can be said of the wider family of football.

This is not solely a response to tragedy. It is also a reaction to the goodness of the people involved and the respect that so many have for the boys as individuals and for the family as a whole.

For us as a club, the sense of shock is absolute. Diogo was not just our player. He was a loved one to all of us.

He was a teammate, a colleague, a workmate and in all of those roles he was very special.

I could say so much about what he brought to our team but the truth is everyone who watched Diogo play could see it. Hard work, desire, commitment, great quality, goals. The essence of what a Liverpool player should be.

There were also the parts that not everyone got to see.

The person who never sought popularity but found it anyway. Not a friend to two people, a friend to everyone. Someone who made others feel good about themselves just by being with them. A person who cared deeply for his family.

The last time we spoke, I congratulated Diogo on winning the Nations League and wished him luck for his forthcoming wedding. In many ways, it was a dream summer for Diogo and his family, which makes it all the more heartbreaking that it should end like this.

When I first came to the club, one of the first songs I got to know was the one that our fans sing for Diogo. I had not worked with him previously but I knew straight away that if the Liverpool supporters, who have seen so many great players over the years, had such a unique chant for Diogo, he must have special qualities.

That we have lost those qualities in such terrible circumstances is something we have not yet come to terms with. For this reason, we need everyone at the club to stand together and to be there for one another. We owe this to Diogo, to Andre Silva, to their wider family and to ourselves.

My condolences go to Diogo's wife, Rute, their three beautiful children and to the parents of Diogo and Andre Silva.

When the time is right, we will celebrate Diogo Jota, we will remember his goals and we will sing his song. For the time being, we will remember him as a unique human being and mourn his loss. He will never be forgotten.

His name is Diogo.”

#liverpool fc #arne slot #diogo jota

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 1 day ago

Note

((Sorry if this sucks it got rid of my amazing reply))

But in the end the cake turned out great. So much so that Teddy said he should open a bakery if he ever wanted to do something other than his singing thing.

Lucifer was happy too....... So much so that he even hugged Adam.

It felt nice.

Lucifer: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Charlie! Happy birthday to you. Come on sweetie let's blow out the candle and make a wish.

He helped her blow out her candle and she was so happy giggling and squealing, she clapped her hands.

Then Adam watched as Luicfer removed the candle and let Charlie have her way with the smash cake.

By smashing it of course.

All that hard work gone in mere moments......

But it was worth it to see them so happy, Charlie played in the cake and ate some of the little bits still on her hands. Lucifer took pictures of her and of them together.

Everyone loved the big cake that Adam made, most of all Lucifer loved it.

Lucifer: Let me get a picture of you with her yeah?

Adam smiled: Sure.

He went over and sat next to Charlie and smiled as Lucifer took their picture smiling wide himself.

Charlie looked up at Adam with big innocent blue eyes: Mama.

Adam froze, oh shit.

Lucifer looked over the phone: What did she say?

Adam: Uhh.... Look sweetie! Who's that?

He pointed at Lucifer and Charlie squealed happily: Dada! D-Dada! Dada!

Lucifer smiled even more before going over to her: I'm right here sweetie. Oh look at you, someone's gonna need a bath tonight you even have icing in your hair duckie!

Teddy came over with his phone: Smile everyone.

Adam and Lucifer smiled, leaning in towards Charlie as Teddy took a picture of the three of them. He sent it to their phones for them to have.

Adam just.... Couldn't get over how much they looked like a happy family.

No, today was not the time for that. This was Charlie's day.

They even got pictures of the four of them, then one of Teddy and Charlie and then also with Adam and Teddy with Charlie. That one..... They didn't really look like a couple.

Adam had to move on or he'd make himself crazy.

Lucifer pulled out the wet wipes and started to try and clean Charlie's little hands, she was sticky and covered in cake.

Speaking of cake there was so much leftover Lucifer let everyone take some home.

The day had been perfect. Until they were leaving.

Lucifer was putting Charlie, who had dozed off into her car seat. Adam and his dad were inside making sure they didn't forget anything.

Lucifer: Sweet dreams princess.

He shut the door and jumped when he turned to see Lilith.

Lucifer: What are you doing here?

Lilith: It's Charlie's birthday, I came to see her.

Lucifer: She's asleep.

Lilith: So wake her.

Luicfer gawked at her: No. You shouldn't even be here, you need to leave.

He made a move to get into the car when Lilith stopped him.

Lilith: No. Let me see her! Lucifer You're my husband! She's my daughter!

Lucifer: EX-Husband. And I don't care anymore you're not doing this to her, you're not going to be wishy washy in and out of her life when you feel like it!

Lilith: ..... I really thought that guy would have knocked some sense into you once he found out you were fucking his wife....

Lucifer: .... What? That was you!? What are you stalking me? Get the Hell out of here, I never want to see you again.

Lucifer was pushed hard into the car, Lilith was stronger than she looked. She eyes took on a dark shade and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Lilith: No one gets rid of me. If I can't have you no one can.

That's when her hands went to his throat and Lucifer tried to push her off but holy fuck where did this strength come from!?!

Teddy: HEY!!

Adam ran over and pushed her off of Lucifer, the blonde man coughed holding his throat.

Adam: Fuck, are you okay?

Lucifer: I-I-I will be..... Thank you.

Lilith: You'll fucking pay for this!

She got in her car and sped off. And that was how Lucifer got a restraining order against Lilith.

And how she started to stalk him.

Sugar baby!au

This one's a bit different- maybe because I love Adam being a little shit 👀

Lucifer and Adam used to be best friends in high school, but they had a falling out after Adam caught Lucifer and his girlfriend at the time, Lilith, in her bed.

After Adam moved schools, they didn't see each other for ten years. Lucifer went on to do woodworking and eventually made a toy start up. And after Lilith left him, he was forced to move back in with his dad.

Since he moved in, his dad wouldn't stop gushing about some singer he's dating. Lucifer didn't really care, he has his own issues. But when he saw the person his dad was dating, Lucifer was disgusted- and extremely annoyed.

Adam: Sup, loser.

Lucifer: What the hell are you doing here?!

Adam smirked: I'm fucking your dad, shit lips!

Queue Lucifer's compain to destroy his father's relationship with Adam- who's obviously using him to fun his music career.

Adam's having a great time pissing Lucifer off, but he also hates the fact that he still has a crush on his ex best friend.

I love this so fucking much. I want to do this simply for this line: You want to date my dad? Fine. But he is a good man and deserves to be happy so you're either with him because you love him, or step away.

And Lucifer is only staying with his dad because Lilith got the fucking house lol He's looking for a new one but the market is a MESS.

Maybe Lilith calls Lucifer up and says she's pregnant adding to another layer of it. Because not only is he getting divorced but there's a custody battle in future.

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powderpinkprincess · 3 days ago

Text

Safe Haven - four [Carlos Sainz & daughter!OC]

Carlos Sainz never expected to become a single dad, but when three-year-old Isa is suddenly left in his care, he’s forced to face the truth about what she’s been through… And what kind of father he’s willing to become. A story about family, healing, and learning to parent in the fast lane. find the list of chapters here

update: I have a taglist now, send me a sign if you want to be added:)

The next morning, Carlos was staring out the kitchen window, the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while Isa played quietly on the floor in the living room, lining up wooden animals like they were marching toward a tiny zoo.

As the days passed by, she seemed more and more tired. Carlos wasn’t sure if it was a result of the stress she endured or something else. She slept a lot more than in the beginning, and she became cranky very easily.

He glanced back at his daughter as Alexandre’s voice came through his phone, tight but urgent. “Carlos, we’ve got something. The nursery… She hasn’t been there in three months. Not a single day. No explanation, no call, nothing. They were about to escalate it themselves.”

Carlos watched Isa as she murmured to herself, completely absorbed. “She hasn’t mentioned nursery once,” he muttered. “Not once. I didn’t think much of it.”

“They thought Vivian pulled her out, but she never did officially. So, it’s on record as educational neglect. That’s big. Combine that with the welfare check reports, we might be building a case.”

Carlos rubbed a hand over his face. “What do we do next?”

“Take Isa to a pediatrician here in Monaco. Not a walk-in. Someone official. We need a full check-up—document everything: height, weight, developmental milestones, dental, dermatological. And a blood test.”

Carlos flinched at the thought. “She’s terrified of needles.”

“I know. But we need to know what she’s been eating. If there are any deficiencies, it all adds weight to the neglect case. The judge won’t be able to look away.”

Carlos glanced down again. Isa was now trying to make the tiny zebra kiss the tiny giraffe. He whispered into the phone, so she wouldn’t hear him. “She keeps saying she usually ate crackers because when Vivian went out, she often forgot to make her food.”

“Exactly. Let’s get it on paper. I’ll send you a list of trusted pediatricians who’ll document this properly. I also know a great psychologist. We’re almost there, Carlos.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, voice low. “Almost.”

He hung up and took a long breath. Isa was going to hate this whole ordeal, but they had to go through with it somehow.

---

Isa knew that something was happening. Carlos tried to keep it all low-key, not wanting to alert or scare her, but she picked up on tension in a way only a child would. She kept asking about her Mommy, wondering where she was or when she was going to pick her up. The worst part was that Carlos couldn’t even give her a straight answer yet. Their case of custody was still undecided.

Vivian still hasn’t reached out, nor has she answered Carlos’s text messages. Carlos couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to hear a word about Isa while she was away. He knew she was online. He saw her being active on social media. It was infuriating.

They had an appointment with a pediatrician for Friday afternoon. After Carlos hung up, he sighed, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. Then he looked over at Isa.

She was sitting on the carpet in the living room, one hand hugging her stuffed bunny as always. She dragged that plushie everywhere with her. She was playing with the wooden zoo again, sorting the animals into small groups in complete silence.

Carlos got up and walked over to her. He picked her up into his arms and sat on the couch with her. She didn’t resist. She immediately curled against his chest like she was meant to be there, her thumb finding her mouth again.

“We’re going to meet a nice lady tomorrow,” he said, rubbing her back. “She is going to take a look at you, if you are doing alright.”

Isa frowned. “Why?”

Carlos took a breath and kept his voice steady. He swallowed. “Because I want to make sure you’re healthy. Just like when your bunny goes to the vet, remember?”

Isa looked down at her stuffed rabbit. “Bunny hates the vet.”

“I know,” Carlos said, voice soft. “But the vet helps Bunny feel better, even if she doesn’t always like it.”

Isa stayed quiet, thumb still in her mouth. She leaned further into his chest, like the thought of tomorrow was already too much.

“Afterwards, we are getting ice cream,” Carlos continued. “We can go to the place where you can put the sprinkles on it yourself, how about that?”

Isa nodded hesitantly.

---

Isa couldn’t sleep in her own bed yet. She didn’t want to be left alone, not even for a moment. Carlos stirred when he felt Isa shift beside him, her soft, hiccupping sobs breaking the silence of the dark room. He turned on his side, blinking the sleep away as he pulled her close.

“Isa, cariño… What’s wrong?” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

Isa didn’t answer at first. Her small fists clutched his shirt, face buried in his chest. Then, muffled and trembling, she said, “I miss Mommy.”

Carlos closed his eyes for a second. His throat tightened. He’d been dreading this moment, half-hoping she wouldn’t mention Vivian. But of course, she would. She was only three.

“I know you do,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay to miss her.”

“She didn’t call, but she always calls when I sleep over,” she cried. “Why?”

Carlos felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He swallowed, choosing every word carefully. “I don’t know, mi amor. Grown-ups don’t always do what they’re supposed to do. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Isa didn’t say anything to that, just curled against him again, smaller than ever. Carlos pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and held her until she fell back asleep, her breath evening out, little by little. He stared at the ceiling, wide awake. As bad as it probably sounded, he never prepared to be a full-time father to Isa. He always thought Isa needed her mother more, anyway. And now that Vivian seemingly struggled to hold it all together, he wasn’t even sure he could be enough for his daughter. His throat tightened as he swallowed back his tears. He had no idea what was going to happen in the future. How was he going to keep his seat? How was he going to race if he had to be a full-time father from now on? Yet he couldn’t abandon his daughter for the sake of his career. Especially not now, now that her mother has seemingly already abandoned her.

---

The morning started rough. Isa woke up cranky again, her thumb already in her mouth, and a scowl that warned Carlos he was in for a ride. She clung to her blanket, whined when he opened the curtains, and refused to speak. Whatever Carlos said or did, she just buried her face in his chest with a muffled, stubborn "no."

“Come on, mija,” Carlos murmured, lifting his whining daughter into his arms. “What do you want for breakfast, huh? Ham and cheese sandwich or cereal?”

He had read online that offering two things to choose from was a great way to deal with toddler tantrums. Well, most of the time these days, it didn’t work with Isa at all. He never needed to read parenting advice before. When Isa spent a weekend with him, she was sweet and easy to handle, and even when she didn’t have things her own way, it wasn’t too hard to soothe her.

Carlos had never thought raising a child for over a week would be this damn tough. He loved his daughter so much, but Isa’s meltdowns tired him out like nothing before. And he had no idea how to handle them, if he wanted to be honest.

He carried Isa to the kitchen, not changing her from her pyjamas yet. He had a feeling that this morning, she definitely would get food all over herself. He glanced at the clock as he placed her in her chair. They had less time to get ready and go than he wished.

Isa chose cereal. She was sitting in complete silence as he poured milk over her breakfast. Carlos was surprised that the choose-from-two technique had finally worked this time. However, when he placed the small bowl in front of her, she sent him another glare and hopped off the chair.

“Don’t want cereal!” she told Carlos.

“You asked for cereal.”

“Not this cereal,” Isa stomped angrily, hugging her body with her small arms.

Carlos put her back on the chair. She started crying. He tried airplane noises. He tried silly faces. He tried pleading. She slapped the spoon away and cried louder.

And then, something in Carlos snapped.

“Isabel, enough!” He slammed the spoon on the table with more force than he intended, his voice much louder than he expected. Isa flinched, and both his and her eyes widened. He had never yelled before.

Isa was silent for a moment… Then she started sobbing: the kind of pained sob that started with no sound, no breath, but then was loud enough to wake the dead. She slid down from her chair again to the floor, her face red. Carlos immediately cursed himself, his heart squeezing in his chest. He scared her. He didn’t mean to yell. He wanted to sort this out like an adult, like a responsible parent, yet here he was, making his daughter cry like that.

He just didn’t know what to do anymore.

She let him scoop her up, but went limp in protest, like a soggy noodle. Every movement was accompanied by a whimper or a frustrated kick, yet she was fisting his shirt like she was afraid to let go. Long minutes passed, and Carlos just held her, mumbling apologies and sweet nothings in Spanish, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

He wasn’t sure if he was even capable of raising a child anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was even meant to be a dad. He didn’t know how to handle his own daughter. What if her behaviour wasn’t even a result of Vivian’s actions? What if this was simply just his poor parenting and lack of skills?

As Isa slowly stopped resisting in his arms, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn’t back out of this, and he didn’t even want to. He had to make sure Isa was safe, whatever the outcome was going to be. Even if in the end, it would turn out that he was wrong and Isa was better off with Vivian. He loved his little girl too much to care about his own misery.

He managed to feed Isa a few spoons of cereal after that. He brushed her teeth and dressed her, then they were ready to leave, fifteen minutes later than he had originally planned.

chapter five

taglist: @guacala @dreaming-starlet @freyathehuntress

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fanfiction #cs55 #cs55 fanfic #cs55 fanfiction

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