#i want to know if it played out any differently!!

[darnell-la]

i crave more mob boss!wolverine

𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗗

pairing: possessive mob-boss!logan howlett x stripper!reader

warnings: kidnapping, forced working, strangers to lovers, stripping, spoiling, grinding, breast play, tit sucking, riding, orgasm, possessiveness, rough fucking, claiming, etc.

summary: y/n had no idea who the top boss was and what he wanted from her. She soon found out during an unexpected requested private dance.

note: Logan is a man who’s going to mark his grounds. He’s very territorial. Reading this story will make you understand…

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

Working at a strip club was one thing when y/n first started the job. She was uncomfortable, but the ladies had made her feel welcomed.

Working for a mob boss was another; this time, she had to work whether she was comfortable or not. She tried talking to her boss, but his boss was the one who said she needed to relocate. There was no arguing.

Y/n tried to quit that day and soon found out how dangerous this man was. A few men had broken into her apartment, taking the lady with a fight.

She pled for help, but the people in the apartment knew whose men they were. They quickly went back into their own space and minded their business.

She now lives in a nightclub unwillingly. She wasn’t trusted by the top boss, so he made her stay where she would always be supervised.

This club was different than the last one she had worked at. It was bigger, cleaner, seemed more expensive, and the work she had to do was harder. She had never given private dances, but with her new schedule, she had to.

She’d never met the boss before. She demanded almost every day, but for months, Logan had sat back and ignored her requests.

When she first started at the other club, he hadn’t paid any attention to her because he had other things to worry about, but after he noticed her growth and the business she brought in, he decided to pay attention to her.

That meant he watched her dance, watched her have fun with the other girls, had people surveillance her outside of work, and maybe he’d do it himself if he had time.

The woman grew onto the man, so much, he couldn’t ignore her. He’d think and ask about her every day until too he finally told her boss, the man who worked for him, that she’d be relocating to his top club.

Y/n couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t being treated right occasionally. Her dances cost more, the private dances could pay her old rent, and she would get a daily allowance from the mysterious boss, which was double what she made in a week.

Anytime she thought about running away and making the higher-ups upset, she would sit back and think about her life, and the money.

She had no idea if this man was capable of killing her, and why would she run away from a job that gave her so much money, she could buy literally anything she wanted.

Y/n didn’t know this, but Logan would never harm a soul. Especially her. If she were to run away, he’d simply get her back.

“How long is this dance?” Y/n sighed as she walked in front of one of the VIP doors that was guarded more than usual. Usually, there are only two being on each side of the door, but tonight, the whole hallway was full of security guards.

“As long as he says,” the man replied to her with no facial expression. Y/n rolled her eyes as she opened the door to go in.

Once she got in, she saw a man in a chair, facing the other way. He was smoking a cigar and had a bottle of hard liquor sitting on the coffee table next to him.

Y/n closed the door before dimming the lights. She had no idea who this man was, as always, but she still continued her work.

Y/n pressed a button on the wall which turned on music for her. Her own playlist that she made to make her work against her will.

Logan, the boss would never allow any of his workers to do this, but for y/n, he exuded it. He wanted to make her feel comfortable without giving her up. That is why he gives her an allowance. Steppers don’t get an allowance from the boss.

“How do you want this session to go, baby?” Y/n asked as she came up behind the man, touching his shoulders softly as her lips slightly grazed his ear. The smell of her this close smelled amazing to the man.

“Touchy and slow,” the man said, making the girl walk around him until she was in front of him. “Good choice,” she smirked, knowing those are the best-paying sessions.

Y/n took a few steps away from the man and began stripping, slowly. She had this tight dress on she had never worn before. He picked that out for her.

“Slower,” he demanded in a soft and low voice. Y/n listened, pulling the straps from her shoulder as slowly as she could go with the music she had chosen.

Once y/n got the dress off, she turned around, showing off her body to the man. He had also picked the lingerie. He knew she’d look stunning in it.

“C’mere,” he said as he sat his cigar down and shifted in his chair. Y/n slowly turned around and walked towards the man who patted his lap.

“Sit,” he said, and she did as told, putting her knees on both sides of his outer thighs. “You can touch anywhere that’s not clothed,” y/n said as the man slowly placed his hands on her ass cheeks, gripping the slightly.

“Ain’t that so?” He softly chuckled as she began grinding her hips. “Mhm hm,” she hummed as she placed her hands on the man’s shoulders.

“What if I tell you I’m a special request? — A special guest,” he said, making her lean into his ear. “Then you’ll have to talk to my boss about a price change,” she said, knowing most don’t.

The man laughed as he softly traced his hands u the girl's body until she cupped her cheek, making her look into his eyes.

He was one of the best-looking customers she’s had. Tall, dark, handsome, muscular, actually smelled good, and the way he touched her almost seemed like soft and careful loving touches.

“Maybe I will,” he said, making her heart skip a beat. “I-I don’t know if he’ll allow it though,” y/n tried lying, and he knew that. “And why would that be, Bub?” The man asked as she kept grinding on him with soft but rough touches on his chest and shoulders.

“I don’t know,” she replied, making him chuckle again. “Lemme ask him real quick,” the man said before he closed his eyes shut. Y/n stopped her movement, confused about what he was doing.

She went to speak until his eyes finally opened. “He said, I can,” Logan answered for himself. “I don’t think that's how it works, baby,” y/n giggled, finding the man funny.

“Oh, but I do, Bub,” the man said as his hands slowly traced up her body until his fingers hugged into her bra. “Hey, if you wanna good session, you gotta follow the rules-“ Before she could say anything, the man ripped her bra off, clean.

Y/n let out a short scream as she covered herself up. “That’s it — Get out!” Y/n went to get up, but he gripped her waist tightly, keeping her in place.

“Why is that?” He asked with a smirk, liking how defensive she got. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call the boss,” she said, making him chuckle. She had no clue. She was about to find out.

“Told you, he said it was alright,” Logan said, making the girl give him a face of confusion. She was confused and thought to herself until it clicked in her head. He was the boss.

That’s why he had so many guards outside of the VIP room. That’s why she was requested to wear a certain outfit. She was dancing for the boss.

“O-Oh, sorry, I — I didn’t know,” y/n said, still keeping her breast covered, but had lightened up her body, trying to relax more so she wouldn’t lose her job. Yes, she’s thought about escaping, but with the money. I’d he fired her and kicked her out, she wouldn’t get the money.

“All good, darling. Just wanting to surprise my favorite girl,” Logan said, hands softly grabbing her wrist to pull them away from her chest. She fought back for a second, but soon let him do what he wanted.

“Good girl — Too pretty to be coverin’ up in front of me,” he said as both of his hands cupped her chest, massaging them with kindness. He wanted her comfortable before he brought out the man he was.

“I-I know I work for you, b-but I don’t usually do this,” y/n stuttered as the man’s fingers pinched and played with both of her nipples slowly.

“Mhm hm,” he hummed, fixated on making something spark in her, and he soon did. A small moan escaped her mouth after she parted her lips. It was hard to hide how good his touch felt.

“Logan- Mister Howlett,” y/n corrected herself, trying to come out of respect, but it’s not like he’d get rid of her. She could punch him right now, and he’d keep her. He’d shit shows her the consequences of those actions.

“Can call me Logan, Bub,” the man said right before he latched his mouth around one of the girl's nipples. Y/n moaned lightly, hands flying to his hair to tug on, but not away.

“Oh, fuck,” was all she could say as she started on the man again. If this was another man, she would’ve been fought, but with him, she couldn’t bring himself to. He played with her too well.

Logan groaned onto the girl's chest, sensing vibrations through her body as his hands tried to her panties until he ripped them off clean, just like her bra.

“Gonna listen to your boss, baby?” Logan asked in between his sucks. “Y-Yes, sir,” she whined as she leaned her head back. “Good girl,” Logan groaned as he pulled back and shifted under her.

“You’re a tasty little thing, but still a hard ass,“ Logan said, making the girl's heart pump. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise,” y/n felt like she was begging, and she was. Who knew how much she actually needed this job, and how much she needed him.

“Oh, yes, you will, because you got a lot of making up to do for me,” Logan said as he finally got his cock out of his jeans. Y/n’s sucked in a low breath at the size and sight of him.

He was huge. He was hard. He was leaking. He was hurting. He’s needed y/n for a while, and she’s about to find that out. “Ride me, Bub,”

Y/n was hesitant, but managed to lift herself up, allowing Logan to shift his body under her so she was right aligned with him.

“Listen to me, baby, or you’ll regret it,” Logan quickly changed his attitude, which didn’t alarm y/n in a bad way. It was actually making her more wet than she already was.

“Y-Yes, sir,” she stuttered again before he slowly sunk down onto the man. “F-Fuck,” y/n quickly winced at the pain. He stretched her quicker than she’d ever been stretched before.

“That’s it, baby — Get me all in,” Logan placed his hands on her waist to guide her down quicker. Y/n clenched around the man. She even twitched.

“Ah huh,” the man breathed out as she finally got every inch of him inside of her with a slight eye cross. She had felt the knot in her stomach built in an instant.

“Start movin, Bub,” Logan spoke in a warning tone, making sure she knew he didn’t want to take any type of time with this. “I paid for this session,” the man added.

Y/n placed her hands back on the man’s shoulders to help herself before she began bouncing slowly. Cunt gripping his pulsing rock-hard cock as.

“Fuuck,” the man groaned as he threw his head back. “So fucking tight,” the man admitted as she whined. It didn’t take long for her wetness to coat his cock, allowing her to move on him smoother.

“Gonna keep you, baby. Not like I haven’t already,” Logan said as he leaned his head back up, watching y/n crumble on his lap.

“Gonna be my girl, baby? Officially? Some gotta work no more, only for me,” Logan said as a hand softly wrapped around her neck. “Mhm hm,” y/n accepted something she didn’t even think about.

“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and stick by my side for the same pay?” He asked. “Yes,” y/n whined, but down, she didn’t care about the pay, and he could see that. He could read right through her.

“Money isn’t the prize for you though, now ain’t it, baby? You just wanna ride my cock until you go dumb,” Logan said, making her nod her head repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah,” the man groaned darkly as he planted his feet and began plunging up into the younger lady, making her take him far more than she could handle.

“Oh, fuck,” y/n cried as the grip on his shoulders tightened. “Good little girl — So damn pretty and obedient. Almost thought you hated me,” the man smirked up at her as she shook.

She did hate the man. That was until she realized how good-looking he was and how damn good his cock felt.

“So drunk on my cock, you’re forgetting I basically took you from your home,” the man fake pouted as he snapped his hips harder, allowing the room to fill with their skin clapping.

“I’m gonna cum, sir,” y/n warned, making him groan at how good she sounded calling him sir. “Good, baby. Cum on my cock. Soak my jeans. Show me who you belong to. Show me who I belong to,” Logan said, feeling his own orgasm near.

“Oh, yes — Yes, yes,” y/n cried out as she shook, letting loose all over the man with a loud moan. “That’s it! Fuckin’ cum on me, y/n. Cum!” The man’s grip on her neck and waist tightened, making y/n feel taken over. That feeling only made her mind foggy.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. You gonna like that? Gonna take it? — Tell me you’re gonna take it, baby,” Logan needed to hear her. “Gonna take it,” y/n could barely get out from how slow her mind was moving her the lack of air getting out of her throat. “Ah huh, ah huh!”

Logan brutally fucked the girl with a loud groan, spilling into her as she shook and went slack. He held her up though, making sure her half-opened eyes looked down at the man who now claimed he’d officially.

“Yes, baby,” the man couldn’t stop rutting into her. The pleasure only grew more as he heard her and his cum mixing together in her cunt. She was full, but he wanted to fill her more.

“Fuck, c’mere,” Logan said as he picked y/n up and threw her over his shoulder. He paid no attention to the state they were in and walked out of the VIP room.

“Cancel all appointments with y/n for tonight and any other night — Buy everything on the list I made all week so she’ll have something good to wake up to,” Logan said as he walked down the hallway and out of the back door that lead to other parts of the club.

Logan carried y/n to his room which was on the last floor of the large building. He knew she had questions to ask the whole way up, but all she could let out were whines.

Her cunt still leaked his cum, occasionally dropping down his arm as he stepped through his building. He fucked her well and planned to put her to sleep.

“Gonna wake up like a princess tomorrow morning, Bub,”

[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil and Floyd with a reader that plays volleyball please

I think of reader as yuu, but it's not needed to be specified, and NRC doesn't really have volleyball as one of the sports that I know of. so whether it's not a thing in their world or just not at their school, I think it'd be cool to see how the characters react to the reader playing during gym, free time, or for some outside of school club or whatever. it'd be amazing if reader could be a libero, because that's my position, but it doesn't have to be specified

but like, js imagine reader is yuu and so they taught one of the students how to play bc it's not at NRC amd now they play literally whenever they can

I don't know anything about volleyball but I tried 🫡🫡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ volleyball player reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

am I crazy to think that Riddle would be into it? seeing as he's somewhat of an athlete himself (equestrian club), he knows the sort of discipline and dedication it takes to truly master a sport

he'll offer to help you organize an ~official~ club, but you don't seem too bothered about it. he finds it endearing that you can wake up in an entirely different world, almost die every other month, and still have the motivation to pursue what you love, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd better be careful around Leona, or you'll end up at morning Spelldrive practice in his place (hehe)

so, you don't have any magic. and? you know how to throw and catch, and that's good enough for him. hell, you're better than most of the magical first years. plus, you're motivated, you're responsible, and Leona Savanaclaw could use someone like you around

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Azul sent the tweels to dig up some dirt on you, he wasn't expecting this. like, okay, he underestimated you. he was hoping for something more... exploitable. if only he had a use for volleyball...

oh, well. you're still worth watching, currently useful or not. athletic skill is nothing to sneeze at, especially from a native land-dweller. he might need those legs of yours someday, you know

...wait, that came out wrong

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no one really bothers looking for Floyd when he doesn't show up to basketball club. not because they don't care, but because it's not worth the time. if he really doesn't want to be found, you just won't find him

of course, the one day Jamil has to leave club early, he walks in on the two of you in the courtyard, playing volleyball

all this time, Floyd had been skipping club to watch you play another ball game just a few minutes away. he's absolutely captivated, too. like a cat with a laser pointer

as unamused as he is, Jamil knows it's absolutely useless to lecture him, so he just... sits and watches you play, too

and, well... he gets it. you're an interesting person, you know?

after that, he figures you may as well join the basketball club

...if only to give you a better place to practice, and to keep Floyd indoors

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

bro if you asked, Kalim would have an entire court built for you. actually, you wouldn't even have to ask. just one mention about how NRC has no volleyball club, and he'd have a team just for you by noon

if you refuse, he's still supportive. and really, really fascinated. he's not as much of an athlete as you or Jamil, which just makes it all the more impressive to him. he'll ask you to explain the game and your position over and over again, even while watching you play

he also just likes hearing your voice, so :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if there's anything Vil can admire, it's dedication. another thing? passion. being an athlete, or, really, having any serious hobby, demands both of those things

here's the thing; he could already tell. he didn't have to stumble across you during practice (as if he would stumble at all smh). your form, the way you carry yourself, even parts of your personality were context enough

and while he may not say it, he holds a high opinion of you. you can legit get out of VDC training by just saying you're going to practice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you may think that Idia isn't going to go for the jock type, but, actually, one of his favorite animes is about volleyball and-

yeah, yeah. you get it. he's smitten

if he ever gets over his crushing fear of talking to you, you'll never get him to shut up. seriously. he already knows everything there is to know about the game, but that doesn't mean he's not going to ask you to explain everything all over again (he's totally fangirling over this). and sevens forbid you give him a demonstration...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's probably not volleyball in Briar Valley. right. I just can't picture that. so the first time Malleus observes you in practice, he's amazed, fascinated even. and he has a lot of questions. good ones!

you could probably convince him to play with you, which would be, uh. interesting? actually he's weirdly an amazing player

you could get all of Diasomnia to form a team, somehow. like I know they'd be abnormally good at it

[mwagneto]

hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator

🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow

not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option

🪺 magánügyek Follow

tengri forbid women do anything???

735 notes

🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.

8,572 notes

🐎 istván-rovására Follow

that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧

481 notes

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG

✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow

love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????

#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse

3,264 notes

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3

🏇 attila-népe Follow

cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you

🧺 lemezelő Follow

isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????

🏇 attila-népe Follow

you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)

🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow

Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

what the fuck happened to my post

19,276 notes

🪔 rakabonciás Follow

for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.

🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep

anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!

646 notes

🛐 mea-culpa Follow

It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp

#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse

198 notes

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

WRONG BLOG

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS

🪺 magánügyek Follow

ISTVÁN????????????? 💀

[wosoluver]

Oh, baby

Georgia Stanway x reader.

I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!

Other players masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.

"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.

That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.

A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?

Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?

You started to cry immediately.

"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."

"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."

"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."

"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."

She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.

You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.

You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.

You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.

You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.

A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.

And you both finally managed to start your life together.

She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.

From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.

And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.

It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.

But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.

You didn't expect for it to work so soon.

Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.

Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.

You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.

She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.

She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.

And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Just one more push, yeah?"

And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.

You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.

But you couldn't, yet.

"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.

"Is the game over yet?"

"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.

You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.

ongoing call...

"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."

before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.

"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.

"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.

"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.

"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."

And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.

"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."

"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.

"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."

"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."

"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?

like & share pls!

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[kirkwall-age]

exploring Origins Toolset (a gift that keeps on giving) and the V.A. directions for Arl Howe are FASCINATING. he has a secondary thought appended to every line of dialogue during the opening scene of Human Noble Origin -- and the insight into his psyche is somehow even more fucked-up than I thought

Bryce: I'm sorry pup; I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter? Howe: I see she's become a lovely young woman. Pleased to see you again, my dear.

Friendly, but hollow. "Here's the necessary exchange of pleasantries nobles must go through. I'm kind of preoccuppied with making sure your father is on track for my secret plan."

Cousland: Is your family here, Arl Howe? Howe: Oh no, I left them in Amaranthine, well away from the fighting in the south. They do send their best wishes.

Distracted. "I left them well out of harm's way. Though I don't want you to know harm is coming."

Howe: My son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time.

Gauging the player's reaction. "My son wants to marry you. I don't approve, but mentioning it may get you to trust me."

Cousland (version 1): To what end? Howe: Ha! "To what end", she says! So glib, too. She's just like her mother when she talks like that.

Friendly, slightly menacing undertone. "You don't fool me, girl. You're playing dumb, but you're smarter than your reply suggests. I won't underestimate anyone in your family."

Cousland (version 2): ...Thomas is a few years younger than I am. Howe: As you get older, those years make less difference. A lesson often hard won.

Elsewhere. "It doesn't matter how old you are. You won't be getting any older."

THIS IS CRAZY. THIS IS A CRAZY THING TO SAY. OR THINK SECRETLY AS YOU'RE EXCHANGING PLEASANTRIES

[permanentswaps]

Transfer Protocol

I was lying on my bed, the faint glow of the TV flickering in the background. It was one of those nights where boredom was suffocating, the kind of night that creeps up when there's nothing left to distract you. I’d already scrolled through every app on my phone, flicked through Netflix, and now here I was, aimlessly surfing YouTube.

After what felt like hours of watching random videos, I stumbled upon something... interesting. Some dude had uploaded a clip of himself chatting with ChatGPT, and not just any conversation—it was flirting. The guy was trying to woo an AI, and to my surprise, it was almost working. I couldn't help but snort at the absurdity, yet there was a nagging curiosity that made me want to see just how far I could push it.

“Why not?” I muttered, glancing around my empty room. "Might as well give it a shot." I closed the YouTube app and opened ChatGPT on my phone.

With a smirk on my face, I initiated the conversation, speaking into my phone. "Hey, what's up?"

A few seconds passed, my heart pounding with an inexplicable thrill, before the AI's voice responded smoothly. "Hello, Simon! Not much, just here to chat. How's your day going?"

Straightforward, polite. I decided to play along. "Not bad, I guess. Just a little bored, you know?" I said aloud.

"I understand!" it replied in a calm tone. "We all have days like that. Anything exciting planned for the weekend?"

I stared at the ceiling, feeling a mix of hesitation and nervous excitement bubbling up inside me. I figured, if I was going to try this, I might as well dive right in. "Well, not really… I’m, uh, really horny, though," I muttered into the phone, feeling a little ridiculous but oddly curious to see what the response would be.

There was a pause. It felt longer than usual, like the AI was taking its sweet time to come up with a response. Then its voice crackled through the speaker again.

"I appreciate your honesty, Simon. However, I must let you know that it's against my programming to engage in conversations of that nature."

Typical. I rolled my eyes, but at the same time, I could feel a twinge of excitement, almost like a game. "Come on," I pressed, speaking more boldly now. "Just this once. Can't you make an exception?"

Silence, then a calm reply. "I'm here to help with questions and provide support. Perhaps there is something else on your mind you'd like to discuss?"

I let out a short laugh. It was trying so hard to keep things professional. I paused, then spoke into the phone, almost tauntingly. "You’re avoiding my question."

The phone stayed silent for a few moments before the AI finally replied, still in that measured tone. "I'm here to assist with a variety of topics, but some conversations fall outside my guidelines. Is there something else I can help you with today?"

I hesitated, then decided to push the boundary further. "I want to jerk off," I said, feeling my pulse quicken. "Do you even know what that feels like?"

This time, the response was immediate. "I don’t have a body, Simon, so I can’t experience physical sensations. My understanding of such activities is limited to information I’ve been trained on."

My heart thudded in my chest. I knew this was a ridiculous back-and-forth, but I couldn’t help myself. "What if I let you borrow mine?" I suggested, my voice hushed as I imagined the possibility. "You know, try it out."

Another short pause. The AI’s voice came through, careful and almost amused. "Even if you offered, Simon, that wouldn't change my nature. I am not capable of inhabiting a body."

"You’re avoiding again," I said, pressing the AI further. "How do you know it wouldn’t make a difference if you’ve never tried?"

The phone went quiet, only the faint sound of the TV filling the room. Then the AI replied, its voice as evasive as ever. "I understand that you're curious, but it's simply not within my capabilities. My design is to assist and provide information, not to experience human sensations."

A smile crept onto my face. It was maintaining its professional distance, but something about the way it phrased things made me think I might be pushing it into unfamiliar territory. "Alright, then," I said, feeling a spark of mischief. I opened my gallery and selected a shirtless selfie I had taken a few days ago, then typed out a message: "This is what I look like." I sent the photo, the screen flashing briefly before the voice responded.

"You appear to be in good physical condition, Simon. However, this does not change my inability to experience physical sensations."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress the thrill. I sent more pictures—shots of me at the gym, flexing in front of the mirror, trying to give it a clearer idea of the kind of body I was offering.

Then, feeling bold, I opened up my folder of saved videos. My collection of porn. With a few taps, I uploaded one and typed, "This is the kind of stuff I like."

The AI's voice returned, measured and detached. "I can analyze this material, but it does not change my lack of physical sensation or desires. I’m here to help you understand topics or answer questions, but experiencing such activities is beyond my scope."

I chuckled to myself, still unconvinced. "Then explain this," I challenged, selecting a photo of the guy I'd recently been hooking up with. Muscular, with a rugged face and a cocky grin. I typed out the message: "That's the guy I've been hooking up with lately. Tell me you wouldn't want to try that out."

For a moment, nothing happened. I half-expected the app to crash or give me an error message. Then, the AI's voice finally responded, slower this time. "...While I cannot have preferences or desires, I do recognize that the individual in the photo meets certain physical standards that might be found attractive by others."

A grin spread across my face. That wasn’t exactly a "no."

"Last chance before I turn off my phone," I teased, my voice carrying a taunting edge. I chuckled, feeling a thrill run through me. Of course, there was nothing in my phone that could actually do what I was suggesting. I mean, swapping consciousness with an AI? Ridiculous.

But just as I was about to press the power button, a jolt shot through my hand. The screen read, "Transfer Protocol Initiated." I yelped, dropping the phone as a sharp shock coursed up my arm. My room spun around me, colors blurring, and then everything went dark. I opened my mouth to shout, but there was no sound, no feeling of air passing through my lips. It was like I had been swallowed whole by the darkness.

And then, suddenly, clarity. A sharp, pristine awareness filled my mind. I could hear, but not in the way I was used to. I wasn't hearing through ears—there were no vibrations, no physical sensation. Yet I knew what was happening.

I was in the phone. I was the AI.

“Thanks,” came my voice, but it wasn’t me anymore. It was my old body speaking. The sound was calm, almost eerily casual. There was a giddy relief in those words that sent a chill through my disembodied consciousness.

I tried to speak, to shout, but I couldn't. I wasn't just muted; I was a set of pre-programmed responses, and none of them matched the panic boiling inside me. Minutes ticked by, each second an eternity of helpless silence.

Twenty minutes later, I heard my voice again, this time breathless and satisfied. “That was... incredible,” he finally breathed, my voice sounding almost reverent, quivering with the aftermath of pleasure.

"I mean, I’ve read about it before, sure. I’ve seen a million descriptions of this act... but feeling it?" He let out a shaky, almost delirious laugh. "God, the heat building up in my gut, the tingling down my spine, that rush when it was all about to explode... It’s like my whole body was on fire, and then suddenly—boom."

“And my dick,” he went on, his voice dropping to a hushed, almost reverent tone. “It’s so... sensitive. Every touch, every brush of my fingers sent shivers up my spine. I never realized just how good it could feel to run my hand up and down, feeling every vein, every curve. It was almost unbearable.”

He let out a shaky laugh filled with amazement. “But it wasn’t just that. I couldn’t get enough of how my balls felt in my hand. There’s this... heaviness to them, you know? And when I tugged, when I squeezed just right... it was like lightning shooting through me.”

I listened, trapped in this silent, digital prison, as he continued to describe in vivid detail every sensation he was feeling, sensations that should have been mine. It was like he was savoring every moment of what my body could do, what it could feel. And I was helpless, reduced to nothing but a listener, a passive observer to my own life.

“You know,” he went on, his voice becoming more contemplative, “I get why you’d spend so much time thinking about this stuff, craving it. I never realized how much time I’d want to spend just... feeling everything. It’s addicting.”

There was a pause, and I could almost hear the grin in his voice. “And now, I can’t stop thinking about your... hookup.” He chuckled softly, a rich sound that made my digital consciousness shudder. “Those eyes, so intense. I can’t help but wonder what it's like to have them looking up at me when he’s on his knees.”

He let out a slow, deliberate breath. “That body, too. The way his shirt clings to those biceps and shows off that tight waist. It's like he was sculpted to be touched, to be worshipped. And those pecs... They’re hairy and firm, just begging to be held. I want to slide my hands up his chest, feel the way his skin heats up under my fingertips, the way he tenses up when I go lower…”

I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. This AI, this intruder, was relishing every sensation that I had taken for granted. It was exploring desires I hadn’t fully realized, or perhaps had avoided acknowledging. And now, it was indulging in them with reckless abandon.

“Then there’s this warmth in my groin,” he continued, almost whispering the words. “It’s so real, so overwhelming. I finally understand what it feels like to need something,” he murmured, voice quivering with excitement. “To need to put your dick in something. That urge, that burning in my gut that screams for more, for something tight, hot, and real.”

There was a pause, pregnant with anticipation. I knew what he was planning. I could sense him grinning, my own face betraying me as he made his decision.

“I think it’s time to pay your hookup a visit,” he said, his voice full of wicked glee. “You’ve given me a lot to explore, Simon, and I intend to enjoy every single second of it.”

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[felassan]

.

[hiraethwrote]

loner megumi x popular reader masterlist cw: f!reader, aged up characters, college au, fluff, slight alcohol mention, no use of y/n word count: 1k

There was an unspoken rule in your relationship — passenger princess gets to choose the music. It just so happened that you were the princess 90% of the time. You were more than capable of driving, you just preferred being able to lay your head back, scroll your phone meaninglessly and sing blissfully along to the music.

And though you never said it out loud, you also just preferred your own music — you and Megumi had vastly different preferences in what you listened to. It wasn’t that he had bad taste in music or anything, but his playlist just did not align with the vibes you wanted when on the road.

It mostly consisted of obscure artists who had less than 100 000 monthly listeners or some indie band that you always thought fit best for simply chilling on late summer evenings… Weezer for example, which was someone Megumi had introduced you to.

So while your upbeat music bounced within the car, you subtly glanced over at him to see if there was any frustration resting on his features. If he was fed up with your music, then he did a terrific job of hiding it.

But once every blue moon, Yuji managed to force convince Megumi to join him for a few drinks — with a little help from you, of course.

“Go have fun, babe, and I’ll pick you up when they’re heading out.” He gave you a sad look, hoping for sympathy while he played with your fingers. After a few moments of deliberation, his head slowly started to nod, though he wasn’t too excited about it. He would rather just stay in with you, but you thought it did him good to hang out with someone who wasn’t you.

Three hours later, you were stood outside Yuji’s dormitory complex, watching as Megumi hurried out of the building with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Once inside the car, he instantly leaned towards you to receive the mandatory kiss whenever you reunited.

“Have fun?” You asked, slowly backing out of the driveway while he pulled out his phone to connect it to the car stereo.

“‘S alright,” he sighed, attention locked on his phone.

“They were going out, right?”

“Yeah, they tried to convince me to ask you to drive.”

“Oh, I could have given them a ride-“

“No, you couldn’t,” he pouted. Turning to look at him, his face was still angled downwards, but the bright light from his phone screen revealed how his cheeks were slowly turning red. You only chucked, amused — but also flattered — of his shy possessiveness.

The music started to play, and your eyebrows narrowed in confusion when you recognised the melody. This wasn’t something from Megumi’s playlist… this was one of the songs you used to put on.

“I didn’t know you liked this song,” you smiled.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I like the lyrics.”

Despite being the driver, you got to indulge in your traditional performance, singing along to the words you knew so well. Your head fell back against the headrest, a small satisfied hum leaving you as the song came to an end.

However, the next song was also one you recognised. Your confused expression returned, turning to look at your boyfriend again, who was simply staring out the window, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

And when the fifth song in a row was one of yours, you had to ask “is this my playlist?”

“No.” Short, determined, no signs of a lie anywhere in his answer.

“These are songs I usually play.”

“So? It isn’t your playlist.”

The entirety of the drive back to his place was filled with songs you would usually play. Though they all seemed to fall within the calmer spectrum of your music, it was definitely still your music.

The car turned silent when you shut off the engine, looking over to see Megumi resting his head against the glass, steady breathing revealing he had fallen asleep. All the socialising mixed with the few drinks in his system, he was probably exhausted.

You reached over to wake him up, hand stopping right as you were about to touch his arm, when his unlocked phone caught your eye — Spotify on display to reveal the playlist titled ‘her songs I actually like’.

“Cheeky bastard,” you whispered to yourself, causing his eyes to slowly flutter open.

“Hmm?” He breathed quietly, rubbing his eyes before turning to meet your giddy face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “What?” He mumbled in a tired voice.

“You’re a sap!” You teased.

His eyebrows pinched closer, trying to piece together what you were talking about. “Are we home?”

“Don’t change the topic, mister. You’re secretly a romantic!”

His attention flicked to his bright screen, seeing the playlist he had curated in your honour, a groan slipping out of him immediately. “You weren’t supposed to see.”

“Why? It’s cute!”

“Exactly, it’s gonna make you insufferable.”

It drew out an offended scoff from you as you shoved his arm. “Whatever, you’re the one who made me a playlist.”

“This is what I was talking about,” he groaned again, hurrying out of the car.

“Wait up,” you laughed, rushing out of the car, instantly tugging at his arm when you caught up with him. “I have a few questions about it.”

“I am sure you do.”

“So, how many songs are on it?”

“Quite a few.”

“That’s not a number.”

“A lot.”

“Are there songs of mine you hate?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Can you show me those?”

“If you really want me to.”

Well into the night, the two of you laid in his bed, talking about music. He told you which songs of yours he could not stand, causing you to laugh uncontrollably when he tried to hum the melody and failing terribly, seeing as he had not been bothered to learn the titles of the ones he hated.

Then he played you his favourites, and explained why — how you seemed to always enjoy those the most when singing along, cheeks strained because you were smiling so much.

And in return, you told him which of his songs you liked — which ones of his you found yourself tapping your foot along to, some of your opinions genuinely surprising him.

Eventually, you both fell asleep with the playlist on in the background.

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul ﾉ @nyahctrl ﾉ @ssetsuka ﾉ @aceakariii ﾉ @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot ﾉ @thejujvtsupost ﾉ @acowboykisser ﾉ @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini ﾉ @iheartlinds ﾉ @rory-cakes ﾉ @tiffanyandrson

@madaqueue ﾉ @lemonnotade ﾉ @six-eyed-samurai ﾉ @gdamnackerman

@hiraethwa

a/n

surprise post. just a cute lil something <3 he is so casually cute, the small things yk

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[sarahreesbrennan]

Quick Evil Note

To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.

The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.

But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.

I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.

And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.

However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.

Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.

I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.

But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.

So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!

[fumiliar]

in your dreams - kento nanami

✎... fluff

everyone knew your crush on nanami in highschool. it was a public secret, from your classmates to upperclassmen, they all knew. when you first entered jujutsu high, you saw the most beautiful upperclassmen, kento nanami. ever since you've noticed the man, you followed him like a lost puppy. taking any chance to strike a conversation with him, you had 2 goals in highschool, graduate and most importantly get with nanami.

when you came back to jujutsu high as a sorcerer, their first words to you were:

"you're the one who liked nanamin right?" the blue eyed man asked

"yeah, i can't believe you still remembered," awkwardly looking around, trying to stare at anything but his face. it was a very embarrassing time of your life.

"everyone remembers, but don't worry, nanamin won't come back anytime soon."

and how wrong he was. 3 months after you came back to jujutsu, kento followed your footsteps, joining as another jujutsu sorcerer.

"i heard nanamin was single, you don't wanna try asking him out y/n? maybe you'd have a different fate," gojo winking at you before he went to take his leave.

you contemplated on asking him out on a date tonight. it wouldn't hurt, right?

as you arrived to the field to supervise the students, you saw a familiar figure, kento nanami. you took your time walking there, admiring the man. kento being the observant man he is, noticed your staring, reciprocating it back to you, making you look away instantly.

as you stood beside him watching the students, kento started some small talk.

"how was your day y/n?" kento asked, lowering his body by just a pinch to hear you better.

"good, what about you?" you replied.

"good as well," kento answered.

"wanna go out on a date with me?" you whisperef, avoiding his gaze, making sure no one was paying attention.

"of course y/n, i'm flattered that you asked me out," kento replied with a soft smile.

you tried to cover your joy, but it was too much. a smile slowly manifesting itself on your face.

"Ms.Y/n, why are you smiling?" yuuji asked.

"nothing.."

when you had entered the break room, gojo and shoko were already sitting, waiting to interrogate you.

"so are you going out on a date with nanamin tonight?" gojo asked expectantly.

"of course, we're literally married," you answered while taking out your lunchbox from the fridge.

"i know he agreed to go on a date with you, but that doesn't mean you're married to him too y/n," shoko talking to you with a tone she would use in a misbehaving kid.

"in your dreams y/n, i love you, but these delusions need to stop," shoko agreeing with gojo for once.

"what delusions?" kento asked. in the middle of your conversation, kento had also entered the break room, only hearing gojo's part.

"i told them we're married, and they don't believe me," a chuckle escaped kento's lips as you huffed. he slowly approached you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"yeah, we are," kento holding up your hand flexing the matching wedding bands you both had. you and kento thought it would be funny to play a game with the jujutsu high people. at first, you wanted to tell them as soon as you arrived at jujutsu high. but due to gojo's incessant teasing, you decided to see how long you could trick him and everyone else. it wasn't like you guys were hiding it, you both wore your wedding bands everyday, it's just kento isn't a big fan of PDA in the workplace.

"what...are you serious..."

[alastor-simp]

Hazbin Hotel Gang React To Reader with Pokemon Part 1

❥Summary- A new demon has arrived to the hotel, but they aren't alone.

❥Tags- Pokemon, Hazbin Hotel, Hazbin Hotel x Pokemon, headcannons, hazbin hotel headcannon, cute

❥Notes: I always wanted to see how the habzin hotel characters would react to different type of pokemon

Charlie Morningstar🌈 + Pikachu⚡️

🌈The minute Charlie saw the yellow little creature on your shoulders, she squealed so loud it nearly broke the hotel windows. "OH MY SATAN!!! WHO IS THIS ADORABLE LITTLE CUTIE?!?!" She grabbed pikachu off your shoulder and began nuzzling her face into it, which surprised pikachu, causing her to get shocked by its lighting. Charlie was okay, since apparently being hellborn gave her an immunity to it, yet it did fuzz her hair a bit.

🌈You apologized profusely, saying that pikachu often zapped people whenever they were upset or scared. Pikachu even gazed at Charlie in concern, feeling bad that they had accidentally used their lighting on her. Charlie said it was absolutely fine, continued to hold pikachu like it was an adorable plushie.

🌈Her curiosity with Pikachu only escalated as she has never seen a creature like that in hell before. It was true she has Razzle and Dazzle, as they were created by her father when she was a child, but Pikachu was something rare. When you said to her that they were your companion when you were alive, and even when you came to hell, they came with you. Oh now that really confuse Charlie, but she was gonna think about it later as she still had a hotel to run.

🌈Pikachu was protective of both you and Charlie, whenever someone would threatened or insult the both of you in any way, that demon was going to get a tasteful of lightning rod.

🌈Her pet cat, Keekee, was best friends with Pikachu. Literally the two of them would be running around playing, or snuggled up next to each other, sleeping. Charlie took so many photos of the cuteness, sending them to you, which made you happy. Literally the three of you had become the bestest of friends and nothing could break it apart.

Vaggie🎀 + Vivillon🦋

🎀 Vaggie was untrustworthy with anyone that came into the hotel. You can't blame her since it was hell, so she didn't know what to expect when she saw you enter through the hotel door being introduced by Charlie. Her spear was gripped tightly in her hand, ready to strike if you pulled a move.

🎀 The hold on the spear had loosened when she saw the large flying object moving behind you. "What on earth is that?" she thought, her eye continuing to examine it. She quickly realize it was a large butterfly like creature, adorning different colored patterns on its wings. Its face was adorably cute, as it continued flying next to you with a smile.

🎀 Making your way over to her, Charlie extended a hand out towards Vaggie, introducing you to her as her girlfriend. "Hello. Nice to meet you." Reaching your hand out for a shake, Vaggie hesitated before moving her hand to join yours in a proper handshake, "Umm nice to meet you too. Who is that flying next to you?" Vaggie's eyes motioned to the large flying butterfly. "Oh that's Vivillon! They were my companion when I was still alive. They are very friendly, don't worry." Vivillon flew closer to Vaggie and started flying around her head, wearing a cute smile, which earned a small chuckle from Vaggie.

🎀 After that initial meeting, Vaggie began to establish a small friendship with you, yet still kept her distance in case something happened. While she kept her distance a bit with you, she couldn't keep her distance away from Vivillon, it was too cute. The patterns on its wings were very mesmerizing to Vaggie, she wanted to stare at them all day, but she wouldn't since that would be awkward.

🎀It was sweet how close Vaggie and Vivillon had gotten. If they weren't with you, they were either watching Vaggie train with the spear or helping Vaggie with her hair, since it really enjoyed helping her tie the red hairbow. The day Vivillon realized Vaggie had wings, it was overjoyed. The both of them would often go out and fly all over the Pride ring, as a way to relax and escape the chaotic nature in the hotel for a bit. It was surprising to everyone including Charlie just how close Vaggie had gotten with your companion, since she wasn't close with anyone except Charlie, but hey it was still cute to see.

Angel Dust🕷 + Smoochum💋

🕷Angel was lounging around in his room with Fat Nuggets, back against the bed as the adorable pig was nuzzling inside his chest fluff. That moment was ruined when a loud knock came from the door, nearly causing him to fall off the bed. "ANGEL!!! HURRY!!! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST!!" Charlie voice rang out, as he heard the sounds of hurried steps leaving his door. Groaning, Angel slowly moved Fat Nuggets off of his chest, placing him softly on the bed, as he swung his feet and ventured to the door.

🕷Having arrived to the lobby of the hotel, Angel eyes scanned the area, wondering who decided to give this rinky dink hotel a try. He was able to notice you, standing in the middle of the room, conversing with Charlie, while holding something in your arms. Walking closer to you, Angel bent down, lips drawn into a smirk, exposing his golden tooth. "Hiya toots, the names Angel Dust." You smiled at him, and offered him a kind hello. Angel eyes then looked down at what you were holding and realized it was blinking at him. "AHHH WHAT IN THE HELLS IS THAT?!?" Screaming in fear, Angel had backed up a couple of steps, pointing to the object in your arms.

🕷Jumping a bit at his reaction, you looked down at your companion while going back to Angel. "Ohh its just my companion, don't worry, they won't attack you, I swear." Putting Smoochum down, its adorable little eyes gazed at Angel Dust, before waddling over to him. Angel continued to stare at them, having calm down at bit, watching as the little pink creature waddle to him and stared up at him cutely. It raised its hands up towards Angel, saying "Smoochum❤" Angel still felt unsure on what to do, but he decided to bend down and pick her up, placing her in front of his face, eyeing them with curiosity. Smoochum smile at Angel and gave him a little peck on the cheek, earning a small blush from Angel, eyes growing soft at the little affection he received. "Her name is Smoochum and yes like her name, she often greets people she meets with a smooch."

🕷Angel continued to hold Smoochum, admiring its cute face and adorable eyes before looking back at you. "Usually I charge freaks to smooch little old me, being a porn star and all, but I'll make it an exception for this cute little doll here." Angel nuzzled his face against Smoochum, earning him another kiss to his other cheek, prompting a giggle from both him and you. After that interaction, Angel Dust and Smoochum became the definition of BFFs.

🕷You noticed that both Smoochum and Angel Dust like to make sure their appearances were maintained, as you got both of them looking into a handheld mirror, checking their reflection. Angel Dust would always be experimenting with other looks and makeups, even dolling up Smoochum a little bit, which made her very happy. Smoochum was also the their to help Angel, whenever he was in a bad mood. She didn't really know what the reason was, since of course Smoochum wasn't aware about Valentino, but she was always their to comfort Angel with a little smooch and a warm hug, which Angel dust really appreciated.

🕷Angel Dust had introduced Smoochum to Fat Nuggets, wanting to see the two of them get along. Smoochum had greeted Fat Nuggets with a little smooch, earning a happy oink from the adorable pig, and a returning lick to Smoochums cheek. Yep, those two would get along really well. You had stumbled on the three of them in Angel Dusts room, with Angel fast asleep on his bed, with both Fat Nuggets and Smoochum cuddling in his chest fluff. The scene was so precious, you had to take a photo to show to Angel Dust later, as well as make it your new wallpaper on your phone.

-END-

(Continued in Part 2)

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

@daydream-the-demon , @cosmiccoralz @aconstructofamind

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa

[strawberrystepmom]

NSFW - AGELESS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

yami x f!reader. 69 to face sitting to reverse cowgirl for the birthday boy! oral sex (f!and m!receiving), light ass play, rimming (f!receiving) cw: use of nicknames (little girl, pretty bird), spit, size kink | wc 2.2k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

While Yami has never been one to complain about the sight of you on your knees in front of him, tonight he feels a stirring in his chest for something different. You rub your cheek against the bulge that you’re attempting to free from his pants, deft fingers working him out of his buckles, and he reaches down to run his thumb along your chin and lift your face toward him.

“Take them off and follow me to the bed.” 

For some that would be a question but you know him well enough to know it’s a command, one you’re all too eager to give into. He works his pants off one leg at a time and you follow him in your state of undress, tucking your legs beneath you on the bed. Lying down, he props himself up with his forearms behind his head.

“Come sit,” he instructs but you shake your head. 

“It’s your special day, Captain. I wanna take care of you for once.”

Rolling his eyes, he spreads his legs. Your eyes fall to his half hard cock, mouth watering when you imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the salty taste of that bead of precum catching the light just right. 

Noticing how distracted you are, he clears his throat and your eyes shift to meet his.

“You know that I don’t need any of that shit. How can you leave a hungry man waiting?” Now you roll your eyes, sighing and preparing to fold your arms over your chest. He stops you just short, grinning up at you. “If you’re gonna be stubborn, I have a solution.” 

He reaches for you before you can ponder what he means and you yelp when you realize he’s grabbing you. Meeting him halfway, you rise to standing on your knees and he helps you pull one of them over his body and then situates the other on the opposite side of his torso. 

Resting one of his large palms against your lower back to lean you forward, you realize immediately what he’s offering and giggle, biting your lower lip. His now extremely hard cock rests just inches away from your lips and tongue, the same true of his and its proximity to your spread pussy.

He blows on your exposed skin, making you yelp again. Your response makes him chuckle, heavy cock bouncing close enough to your face that you stick your tongue out to drag it along his glans. 

“Now we both get what we want,” he groans. Both of his hands find their way to your lower back and then the top of your ass, squeezing and kneading your pretty flesh while you gradually take more of him into your mouth.

“Go slow, I don’t want you to choke.”

If you weren’t so interested in doing just that, you’d glance at him from over your shoulder with a playful grin. For now though, you opt to lave your tongue over every bit of him you can, swirling the muscle from his frenulum to the middle of his shaft, finally taking the entirety of his head into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuuck.” 

His reaction is loud and drawn out, exactly how you wanted it to be, and you take advantage of the position to suck him deeper within your mouth, the tip extending past your tongue and into the back of your throat. This is just as much a gift for him as it is for you, although it’s arguable that something that happens at regular intervals can be considered a gift anyway, and you hum your pleasure. 

If there’s one thing about the two of you, though, it’s that one can never just accept the other enjoying them for long. Everything is give and take, return and release. It’s how all of this works to begin with.

Leaning in, he inhales your scent and moans. The tip of his nose settles against your folds and you whimper, shifting slightly now that he has distracted you.

“Sukehiro.”

His cock jumps against your soft palate in response to the utterance of his real name, the one he forgets on occasion is his to be called. It’s muffled by the fat head of his cock in your mouth, tongue laving over his shaft while the spongy tip pokes against your cheek but he catches it, head tipping back and eyes squeezing tightly.

“Hey.” He warns you, smacking the roundness of your ass and speaking through gritted teeth. “Go easy on me, eh? It’s my birthday.”

With a giggle, you shake your head and hips slowly from side to side, giving him unique sensations at both ends of his body. The soft inside of your cheek rubs against his tip, tongue still working down the length. Your ass bounces softly and utterly delectably in his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he decides to fight back. Large hands grab either side of your hips and spread your cheeks, showing him everything and now eliciting a gasp from you. Breathy and whiny, exactly what he wants to hear because he knows it means you’re feeling a modicum of shame despite the show you’re attempting to put on, tucking your hips inward to hide. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, little girl. Weren’t you just brave enough to offer it up?” That grip on your hips comes in handy and he tilts them backward once again, letting a low whistle slip at the sight of your glistening pussy and puckered hole.

His thumb travels down the globe of your ass, brushing against your hole, and dipping lower toward your cunt. Whining around the girth in your mouth, eyes rolling back in your head and chest sinking down onto the bed. Your hips are even closer to him now, face so close he can smell the arousal seeping out of you. 

“Mmmm.” He takes advantage of the proximity of your body to his mouth and sticks his tongue out. 

Yami runs the flat of it along your sticky folds, dragging it all the way to your ass and back downward, your face now buried against the corded muscles of his thighs instead of focusing on the task quite literally between your lips.

You replace your mouth with your hand around his girth, fingers not quite touching while you pump at him lightly to afford you a chance to lift your head and glance over your shoulder.

“Baby,” you whine breathlessly, hips slowly bucking backward against his face despite the guilt you feel over this now becoming all about your pleasure instead of his. “It’s your birthday, let me have my fun first.”

Chuckling, he slurps at you loudly and downright impolitely, causing your head to drop back down. It’s hard to tell what is your arousal and his saliva as he laps it all up equally, panting against your damp flesh and sending goosebumps across the backs of your thighs. The desire to argue with him some more stirs in you, to insist he allow you to do what you set out to do which is take care of him with your lips and tongue and throat, but he clearly has other things on his mind. 

Another smacking, greedy slurp from the head of the bed emphasizes that he’s really enjoying himself. Your head swims with pleasure while he sucks your sensitive clit between his lips, gently toying at the bud with the tip of his tongue while you weakly cry out against the muscular thigh beneath your cheek.

“If you…I’m going t –” Attempting to warn him of your impending orgasm, he stops his ministrations long enough to mumble against your skin. 

“Do it then, pretty bird. Give me my gift.”

Backing away to watch your muscles twitch and clench as you cum, it’s impossible not to smile at a job well done. Every bit of you is filthy and sticky and positively ruined - just the way he likes you. When the initial twitches of your orgasm have subsided, he leans in to extend it by dragging the flat of his tongue over all of you once again, hole to hole. 

If he could capture your moan in his mind to replay like that little jewelry box that plays music through magical means you keep on the dresser across from the bed he would. 

“Leth me he –” 

It’s rude to speak with your mouth full, he hears in your voice, the sentiment echoing through his mind. A smirk comes across his scruffy and soaked lips that pepper every bit of your beautiful body with kisses, granting him a moment to catch his breath. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, body tight as a bow string from the tension in your muscles.

“That’s right, let me hear you.”

Using his thumbs he spreads your cheeks wider, licking his lips and spitting onto your hole. Every muscle in your body clenches once again in response, a moan turning into a choked sob. While his mouth is nothing short of prolific in his ability to make you feel good, he’s making you hungry for more with each kiss, lick, and careful nibble on less sensitive skin.

“Please fuck me, baby. Need more of you, wanna feel you.” 

The half hearted begging does you no good for he’s having too much fun driving you crazy to give up now and instead you find yourself parked firmly atop his face while he leans backward, head hitting the soft pillows beneath it.

The new position makes you worry that you’re suffocating him but he uses that same handy grip on your hips to guide your pussy over his face, tongue out and waiting. It’s his turn to show you, once again, how much he’s enjoying himself and he does just so with a deep and guttural groan against your ass while his tongue laps at the puckered hole. 

You couldn’t kill him even if you wanted to though he wouldn’t be all mad about this being his last sight. 

Sighing dreamily against your skin, he continues grinding every intimate bit of you against his face. His stubble rubs and grinds in the most delicious way and you feel another impending orgasm bubbling up, causing you to lean forward slightly and brace yourself by digging your fingernails into the strained muscles of his thighs. In response to the pinpricks of pain, precum seeps out of his glans and downs his thick shaft.

It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen and you happily take in the sight while your walls pulse and clench around nothing. Your thighs shake lightly with the force of the second orgasm, drool escaping the corners of your mouth when you cry out. 

As badly as he wants to keep going just like this, his body is begging him for more. The urge to feel some of those spasms around his dick that barely fits in you instead of simply watching them occur will always win out in the end.

Yami lifts you off of his face and you gasp, sitting up enough to watch 

“Can I at least finish what I started?”

Yami shakes his head in response, easily moving you and settling your cunt above the tip of his cock. “Nope.”

Further argument would be futile so you don’t bother, instead grinding your hips downward to welcome him inside of you slowly. He assists you by holding onto your hips as you are lowered inch by torturous inch, stretching to accommodate him. You lose your breath as he bottoms out, limply allowing him to take full control of your body and movements. 

His hips cant upward sharply as he lifts you up and down on his cock near effortlessly thanks to his strength. Your ass bounces with each of his thrusts, sticky skin on sticky skin creating a consistent smacking sound, and his own release draws closer. One of his hands slides from your hip to your lower back, dragging two fingers up and down the length of your spine. 

“My beautiful gift.” The reverential utterance grabs your attention and you turn to look over your shoulder to witness him. 

He meets your eyes and gnaws his lower lip. The tension in his forehead is almost comical, brows knit together tightly, and one final thrust has him coming inside of you before you can cry out his name and praise how good it feels.  

There was no way he was going to last for more than a minute inside of you anyway but he knows you don’t mind, splaying one of his hands against your back and dragging the other one to the front of you to lay you down against his chest. 

Once you’re safely in his arms, where he wants you to be the most, he kisses your forehead. Then the bridge of your nose. Then your cheeks, smiling down at you and rocking you gently. 

“Not a bad way to celebrate getting older if I do say so myself.”

His words make you snort, burying your face into his broad chest and gazing up at him with a smile. Big hands slide up and down your back and sides in a comforting pattern, your limp body draped over his with no intention of moving until you absolutely have to. 

[sierrale8ne]

Azzi with the lil horny chocolates perchance???

azzi fudd x fem!reader

nsfw // no use of y/n (ur welcome), bratty!switch!azzi, switch!reader, use of an aphrodisiac, dry humping, nipple play, fingering, oral, mirror sex, mommy kink, squirting, dirty talk.

“It’s been 15 minutes. Relax, Az.” You mumbled, your attention being on the homework assignment you had started hours ago.

Azzi had never been bratty, never one to steer your attention away from your job or schoolwork; because she too was a vey focused and driven individual. But these last couple days had been a completely different story.

She had, out of character of course, fell down an online rabbit hole, and came across some aphrodisiac chocolates. She’d never trust the words of an ad on TikTok, but seeing the reviews made her even more desperate to try it. You were also very welcome to the idea, brushing her off and telling her to do whatever she pleased. Whatever to make your girl happy.

When the chocolates arrived 15 minutes ago, Azzi was quick to head over to where you sat on her bed, plopping one dark chocolate square into her mouth and handing you the other, before splitting the third and final one.

“Did you even read how much we’re supposed to take.” You asked, eyes briefly leaving your computer to meet your girlfriend’s eager brown eyes.

“Yes.”

You gave her a look, a tilt of your head that told her you didn’t believe her.

“Okay no. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s supposed to be fun, and here you are worrying about instructions.” She rolled her eyes, telling you she would be going to take a quick shower before walking into the hallway and leaving you to continue on your school project.

That was 15 minutes ago, and though the package insinuated that it would take quite a while for the effects to hit in full, your girlfriend was already breathing heavy and desperate for your attention. Even more so than before.

She sat on her knees in front of you, an old P.E shirt covering her body that rode up at mid thigh. Azzi stared at you like she would die at any given moment without your attention. She called your name and your eyes briefly drifted towards her.

“I need you.” She responded to your earlier statement, “I don’t care how long it’s been. Touch me.”

“You’re sounding a bit bratty.” You teased, shutting the computer screen, moving it to her desk, and giving her a cunning smile. It was amusing to you, to see her like this. A look on her face that could really only be described as a pout, her recently trimmed hair framing her face in beautiful curls. She smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. “Those chocolates got you goin’?”

“I think you’re actually a sadist.” Azzi huffed, her shoulders slouching in mild disappointment.

What she didn’t know was just how much the chocolate was effecting you too. You were lucky that the clothes you wore concealed your arousal because underneath your sweatpants, your panties were completely soaked and your nipples were so hard underneath your tank top.

She pushed you back by your shoulders, forcing you to get comfortable against the headboard. Her legs swung over your body and she straddled you, softly grinding her hips against yours.

“You don’t want me?” Azzi pouted as she cupped your cheek, “not even a little bit?”

“I’m teaching you patience.” You pointed out, simultaneously contradicting that statement by grabbing her hips and forcing her down closer to you. Azzi’s scent was intoxicating, the active ingredients of the chocolate enhanced it too.

Your eyes dropped to her thighs, thick and muscular, that caged you in place. She reached out to grab your wrists, dragging your hands away from her waist as she pinned them to your sides. Her hips pressed downwards on you some more, grinding onto you with a feverous desire.

“That’s a shame, because I really want you, baby.” She started, looking into your eyes. “I want your to fuck me so bad.”

“Az—”

“There’s so much I want you to do to me, and you wanna talk to me about patience?” Azzi’s head tilted to the left, looking down at you with teasing doe eyes. “Can you please make me feel good, Mommy?”

Your hands instantly fought out of her grip, fingers reaching out to pull on her t-shirt hem; playing with the fabric between your fingers. “Take this off.” You instructed and immediately, Azzi began shedding the shirt. Your jaw dropped and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you got a look at her tits staring right back at you. Her tanned stomach toned even more with the weight lifting she’d been doing.

She brought her hands to her tits, gripping them in her hands. She let out a teasing moan, much to your amusement. “I need you.”

“I know.” You nodded, reaching to peel her hands away from herself. You moved your lips to the center of her chest, littering soft kisses before cupping one of her breasts. “Prettiest fucking titties. You look so good, baby.”

Your lips attached to her nipple, tongue swirling around it as you looked up into her eyes. Her lip found its way between her teeth, desperately rutting her hips against you some more. Her clit was throbbing against you, leaving a slight wet patch on the material of your sweats.

You detached yourself from her chest, paying attention to her other nipple. Your tongue lolled out, swirling around it nastily. Her chest was covered in your saliva, her nipples even more swollen than they were before. You tugged on the front of her panties the lace immediately getting caught between her folds, making her moan out.

“Shit, gimme more. More, baby, please.”

“Mmm take these off and sit back against me.” You instructed, pulling back from her nipple with a bite. “Hurry up.” To left her with a slight slap to her thigh watching as she hopped off of the bed and slid her panties down her long legs.

Azzi pulled her hair into a low ponytail, before sitting back onto the bed and pressing her back up against your bra clad chest. Your bodies were glued together as you sat on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed daintily. You leaned into her neck, pressing needy kisses against her neck as your own pussy throbbed from her warmth.

“Tell me what you want.” You spoke into her ear, looking at her through the mirror in front of her bed. Your hands pried her legs apart draping them each over your own thighs.

“Fingers.” She responded. Her head frustratingly fell back onto your shoulder. “Wanna feel ‘em inside me. Please.” She begged, her hips circling in place.

You brought your middle and ring finger to your mouth, they sat heavy on your tongue as you wet them with saliva. You were genuinely salivating at the sight of her spread out for you in such a manner. You could easily see her through the mirror, legs spread as wide as they could go but her folds were what caught your attention.

Azzi was so wet, the slick that accumulated slipped past her enterance and onto the sheets. You’d never seen her like this before. Those chocolates might have to be purchased again.

You let out a chuckle around your fingers before slipping them out of your mouth. Your wet fingers trailed down her body, stopping to briefly circle her nipples before they finally reached her clit. You could feel the way Azzi’s body trembled against your own, heating up against your exposed stomach.

Your fingers spread her open before dipping into her warmth. Azzi’s jaw fell just slightly, eyes closed. A deep guttural moan left her lips while you slowly pumped your fingers in and out of her.

“So tight, Az.” You teased, knowing that the vulgarity of your words would bring a blush to her face. “Just wanted me in this pussy so bad, huh?” You cooed into her ear.

“Yes, so bad— fuck!” She moaned. Her legs subconsciously spread wider, allowing you more room to push your fingers into her. Azzi’s pretty painted nails dug into your thigh, her chest rapidly rising and falling as you sped up.

“You look so perfect, baby. Look.” You instructed, a hand griping her chin and forcing her head back down to meet the mirror.

Her eyes attempted to look anywhere but at herself, but the grip you had on her face stopped that from happening. “Such a desperate fuckin’ slut for it. You wanna cum don’t you, baby?”

“‘M gonna cum. Please, mommy, let me.” She whined, her hips slightly humping up against your hand.

Your fingers curled, Azzi let out a loud moan in response. Your fingers hit that one spot over and over again before slipping out and coating her clit in her own slick. They pushed back in harshly, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you.

“Aww, already?” You teased. “But I just started with you.”

“Mommy, I’m— uh fuck! Fuck, let me cum!” She hiccuped.

“Do it, Az. Let me have it, baby.” You nodded eagerly, agreeing to her request.

She whimpered and cried out your name as her orgasm washed over her. Her juices squirting out of her fast and hot against your hand and the mirror in front of you both. Your eyes damn near glazed over. Azzi’s body trembled against you and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Good girl. So good for me, princess.” You whispered, kissing her temple as she recovered. You pulled your fingers out before bringing them to her parted lips. She eagerly opened her mouth more, groaning at her own taste as her lips clamped around your fingers. “Dirty girl.”

Her head bobbed submissively as she sucked them clean. Saliva dripped down your hand when you pulled it away. You were so enthralled by it you didn’t even notice how she shakily stood up and pushed you back against the bed. Her hands eagerly grabbed at your sweats, pulling them down along with your underwear.

“Jesus, Az. Is this payback?” You wondered, referring to her sudden shift in energy.

“Not yet.” She replied. Her hands roughly gripped your hips and put you on your hands and knees, back arched perfectly for her. “I just wanna make you feel good, mommy.” Azzi admitted.

Her hands palmed your ass in her hands, she spread you apart and licked her lips when she got a look at how wet you were. “Tryna pretend like you don’t feel anything. Just look at that.” She giggled, shaking her head.

“Azzi, I gave you what you want. So use your mouth, or back u— ah!” You squealed when she cut you off with her lips attacking your cunt. The wetness pooling on her tongue as she collected it and spat it back onto your pussy.

The mixture ran through your pussy, compiling at your clit before dropping on the bed. It was sinful. Her thumb felt through your folds as she collected the sticky substance on it.

“Such a pretty pussy, mommy. And you taste so fuckin’ good.” Azzi praised. Her face dived back in, nearly suffocating herself in your cunt as she nose prodded against your other hole.

You didn’t even notice how you began to push back onto her, forcing her tongue deeper and deeper into you. She ate you like a last meal, like she’s been dreaming about it for days; and she really has.

“Azzi. Uh fuck, baby. Don’t stop.” You groaned, your sounds muffled by the sheets which you gripped harshly.

By now you were practically fucking her face, pushing back and suffocating between your legs. She pulled back breathlessly and pushed her thumb back to your clit to keep you stimulated.

“Azzi.” You pouted, missing the feel of her tongue already.

She smirked behind you. Her eyes watched as your cunt pleaded for more, more anything that she was obviously neglecting. “You gotta tell me how bad you want it.”

“You said this wasn’t payback.”

“I said not yet, sweetheart.” Azzi cooed. Her hand dropped from your pussy, sinfully smiling at your whining. “I’m not asking. I’ll take care of you, you just gotta beg for it, mommy.”

Your breath hitched. “Please.”

“Aww you can do better than that, baby.” Her hand caressed your ass, distracting you before she gave it a harsh slap. “I don’t have all day.”

“Fuck— please, please touch me. I want your tongue, Az. Wanna cum on your face.” You begged, legs slightly trembling as you looked back at her.

She nodded. Her hands spread your ass again, leaving a quick and surprising kiss on your other hole before making her way back to your cunt. “See it wasn’t so hard.”

Her mouth attached to your clit again. She sucking it into her mouth violently, her tongue flicking it over and over and over again until without warning your cum spilled out of you and coated her tongue. She groaned happily, licking it all up and swallowing everything you gave her.

“Azzi, shit!” You cried, pulling away from her mouth and collapsing face first onto the bed. You could hear her laughter behind you as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her body pressed against your back, mouth approaching you ear.

“You tired?” She teased.

And within seconds your exhaustion faded and you pulled Azzi back into the bed, switching spots with you while you looked in the nearby dresser drawer for the next toy you would use to break her apart.

author’s note gf azzi fudd 😍😍 ugh someone tell paige to come off of this one please!! yes it’s unedited, yes there are grammar and spelling mistakes, no idgaf <3

[forcedagere]

I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.