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arijackz · 3 days

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PICK A CARD: Your Soul's Signature Scent

✧ “Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.” - Patrick Süskind

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, I'm a rambler and I love going off track. One pile got a mini wattpad story. CHEERS!

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✴︎ Pile One ✴︎ (King of Pentacles, 3oP, Knight of Swords, 9oS, 1, Ascension, Worthy,)

Not to be weird but I’d sniff you like rich frat boy coke.

It's hard to describe scents so… walk with me.

You have had a long, stressful day and the world is pissing you off. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place so after work, you open Google Maps in hopes of temporary solace with cheap liquor and bar food. You find one of those dingy sports bars with shitty beer, sticky tables, and drunk grown men yelling at a tiny wall-mounted television.

Not exactly your cup of tea, but as the French say… C’est la vie!

You practically had to beat half of the bar off with a stick, just to find a seat. Drunk old guys + A Pretty Pile One = Sloppy, slurred marriage proposals(?) You couldn’t tell, but “I wanna bring you home to my mama” sounds close enough.

You pay them no mind. You have one goal. Get fucked up. Don’t throw up.

Okay, maybe two goals.

You finally find a stool and raise a finger to signal the bartender.

“Hey, bartender! BAR-”

“I see you. Don’t call to me.”

A nervous drop in your stomach almost tips you off your stool. You feel them before you see them. Every bottle clink they make reverberates to that pit in your stomach. You only hear the bartender’s movements among a crowd of bustling people: their shoes stick and unstick to the floor, their fake chuckles at guests’ jokes, every time their hand slides across the bar to collect bills.

Maybe it’s delusion but you’re convinced you hear the steady drum of their heartbeat.

You finally get a good look at the bartender. In a sea of hostile people drowning themselves to forget their sorrows, you see the calmest, most fearless person in the room. Squared shoulders, back straight, head held high, and the smoothest walk you’ve ever seen; they almost glide.

You watch in complete admiration as they de-escalate a fight, sanitize bar taps, count money, and make a drink all in one go. You haven’t spoken more than two full words to this person but something about their presence makes you want to kneel.

The bartender finally makes their way to you and their eyes lock with yours. Your neck begins to sweat so you quickly dart your head away. A deep, velvety chuckle comes from the pits of their stomach, “Don’t show me you're nervous, I usually charge the Bambis more.”

“Bambis?”

“You’re shivering like a scared little deer, aren't you?”

You have no words so you focus on twisting your hands under the tables.

They find you cute. With another chuckle they lean in closer to you, “I’ll tell you what, how about I make you a drink to calm you a little, yeah?”

“Uhm, I’ll take a-” Before you could even tell them what you want, their back is to you making a concoction.

Forty-five seconds later, a glass of honey bourbon with an orange slice and a vanilla bean stick slides in your direction. Along with a… cigar?

“I doubt you can handle this, but I want to see you sweat.”

Hands shaky, you press the glass to your lips as the bartender guides you, “Take it slow. Let it sit. Savor it.”

You came in here looking for cheap booze and a deep sense of impending regret, but here you are drinking $400 bourbon you can’t afford and hanging off of every syllable this person says to you.

After a slow sip and a burn behind the ears, you ask, “How do you do that?”

They raise their brow.

“Ya know… command like that.”

They whip a towel over their shoulder, “Once you realize how scared and hurt everyone actually is, worthiness feels less unattainable.”

BAHAHAHA THAT ENDING WAS SO CORNY (and kinda ominous??) BUT THIS IS GETTING LONG AND THIS AINT WATTPAD.

In summary, your soul has a very effortlessly commanding signature. Even if you aren’t aware, your energy dominates every space it enters. You might have people who seem to dislike you for no reason, this is why. BUT YES, a sweet bourbon with a hint of citrus and something smoked on the side is 100% your signature. Also… Petrichor. Your soul scent is the sweetened waft of smoked wood beneath grit and the smell of wet Earth after a storm.

"Can You Taste The Spice On My Lips?"

✴︎ Pile Two ✴︎ (9oP, 10oP, King of Wands, Lust)

✴︎ BAEEEE, don’t fucking play with me. Your soul just told me to take my shoes off in your million-dollar mansion. You told me to stop acting like a fucking hooligan???

There is a richness to you down to your very core. I’m getting Pushya, the most auspicious nakshatra representing wealth, prosperity, and milk (divine nourishment). But there is also a spiciness here.

SPICED CHAI MILK TEA. That is the scent that jumps out to me. The hominess of full-bodied, sweet cinnamon. The spicy warmth of red chai. Maybe even a little nutty, Spanish almond if you’re feeling crazy.

There is also a gradual build-up here. All earth signs, but primarily Taurus. There is this steady, sensual accumulation of your energy. You cannot be rushed, you savor moments and allow yourself to rest in all the sensations you experience in the present. If you don’t do this, your soul is calling you to do this. Slow down. Chew slower, shower longer, and take time out of your morning to listen to the birds sing.

The leisurely flow of the universe is inviting you to join its dance. You are safe. You are provided for. The universe is your sugar daddy. Your guides want you to know that what you want, wants you; you just need to slow down.

I sense that your energy is aphrodisiacal. Your sacral chakra is one of your dominant chakras (could be healthy or a leak but it is prominent) and when people enter your presence their chakra gets activated too. People get creative and fiery near you. If their sacral chakra is blocked, this may be repressed and they can hold resentment for the free-flowing energy you have which they feel they lack.

Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. That word is used a lot in this community and you may be tired of hearing it but that's too damn bad! You’re very fucking abundant.

If this puzzles you because you look around and don't see whatever you picture as abundance, it's because it's sitting within you waiting for you to actualize it. You have the skills, the intellect, and everything else under the sun needed to grab your dreams by the balls. I cannot stress this enough.

Go outside, journal, continue your affirmations, and remove yourself from anything lying to you and saying you cannot do this. It is a fucking lie. You have everything it takes to do what the world says is impossible. Shut the world’s opinion out and turn inwardly for your answers, because you have them.

Ambrosia. Liquid gold. It flows through you. You are the gift. The universe’s greatest gift to you is you. You have the ability to spin anything into gold.

I have some doomscrollers, spirallers, and people-pleasers in this pile. You may struggle with excess anxiety, digestive issues, acid reflux, and ulcers. Outside influences have tricked you into believing you are a pebble when you’re actually a diamond.

Baby, you have to cut them off. By “them” I mean all negative energies that cause your mind to get stuck in a loop of self-hate. That includes social media, bad habits, fake relationships. Your solitude will heal you. Your peace of mind will heal you. Once you shut up the naysayers, you’ll finally hear the music that has been drowned out in your body and soul.

I know this is a lot but it is worth the effort. Your potential is worth the effort. A healthy state of mind is worth the effort. You are worth the effort.

Sidenote: The star and temperance came out while I was cleaning up. BABY YOU A STAR IN THE MF MAKING!

"The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce”

✴︎ Pile Three ✴︎ (The World, 6oW, 2oW)

🎵Nowadays, I be duckin' them cameras

And they hype that I'm up on them banners

Callin' my phone, but they know I don't answer (why?)

In the hood, I'm like Princess Diana (grrah) 🎵

✴︎ THE PEOPLE 'S PRINCESS (or prince… orrrr the #1 baddest barnacle in the seven seas, whatever fits).

3, “The creative child” and 6, “The Caretaker” came out. 3 is the number of self-expression and creativity. 6 is the most harmonious number centered around nurturing your community. In the world, you’re the center of attention. In the 6 of Wands, you’re the one decked out in Dolce and Gabanna, playing Robin Hood and giving to the people. In the 2 of wands, you quite literally have the world in your palm.

Your soul’s footprint is destined to be seen and recognized. Baby, you are meant to be loved by the world at large.

Maybe you have aspirations of becoming an artist, actress, or influencer. If you have dreams of being in the public eye, I am telling you your desires are not coincidental. You are meant for these dreams so do not be afraid to actualize them. The stars are expecting you, your home is in the spotlight.

Everyone incarnates on Earth with a role and purpose, you are meant to have a large platform because what you have to say matters and will elevate our collective consciousness. You have the gift of being able to garner great attention. People like to see you, talk to you, see what you’re wearing, know about your life, and everything else in between. People are like moths to a flame with you, you’re an entertainer to your very core.

You have a youthful, creative, and colorful soul.

I am getting strong floral scents mixed with a crisp, clean linen smell. Gardenia, Ylnag Ylnag, Cherry Blossom, and Honey Suckle. I just know the bees be tearing your nectary ass up.

You know how Ariana Grande’s perfume line is always sold out? It’s kind of like that. “Oh, Pile Three is wearing this perfume? PUT IT IN THE CART. NEOW.”

Strong Venusian energy. Libra, Taurus, Pisces, 2nd house (especially for my singers), 7th house, Bharani, Purva Phalguni and Purvashada.

People find you very attractive. Yes, physically so, but the true embodiment of beauty stems from the soul. And you are utterly gorgeous. I am getting snow white; the animals flock to her, the sky clears for her, the seas part for her, and the forest protects her.

I am not trying to be redundant but this Earth does not play about you😭. That doesn’t mean you haven’t experienced hardship but trust, you will get the love you crave, tenfold.

I get the sense that love has felt very conditional in your life and once the metaphorical “love pie” was cut and served, you were served last and there was never enough for you.

I am going to hold your hand as I say this,

Feel this pain. Process this pain fully. Cry all your tears, scream your sorrows out in the open, and let the winds carry it away. Let these feelings of being unloved leave your body because there is no space for them anymore. Eternal love is flowing in to fill those empty cavities. You are so loved. I am so sorry the environment around you has blocked this energy but please know that justice will be served and the love you are karmically owed is growing within you and you will be seen in this lifetime.

COME BACK TO THIS WHEN YOU’RE FAMOUS AND DON’T FORGET ME.

You better not go Hollywood on me 🫵

The Cosmos' Countess

✴︎ Pile Four ✴︎ (The Hanged Man, Knight of Wands, 5 of Swords)

✴︎ Random, but have you heard stories of those cool warrior monks? Who devotes themselves to their practice but when it’s time for battle they whoop ass?? That’s so you, boo.

You’re all peace, love, and light but you don’t fucking play about protecting your peace of mind. I sense that you live an alternative lifestyle. With the hanged man, you see life differently from the average person, and don’t waste your time with the world’s bullshit.

You’re not on Twitter arguing about Drake’s tummy tuck (BAHAHA I HAD TO), you know shit like this doesn’t add to your life in any way. You focus your energy on activities and discussions that add to your self-evolution. You have made lots of sacrifices in life to progress forward and the universe sees your hard work and is proud of you. Hell, even I’m proud of you.

You and the Universe like this 🤞. Here’s an affirmation that already rings true but is good to practice anyway, “I surrender to the natural flow of all existence.”

A lot of you study esoteric divinity practices. Tarot, scrying, rune-casting, psychometry, etc. We also have some healers. This may ruffle some feathers. Maybe your family or friend circle doesn’t understand your interests and may push against it but quite frankly… you don’t give a fuck.

As you shouldn’t.

Your self-resolutions are impressive. You may feel nervous at times but your faith in yourself makes you fearless. You’ve done your studying. You’ve done your healing. You're ready to take the world by storm, and nothing is knocking you off your horse. You are the first to ride into battle and will be the last standing. I don’t know if you’re aware but you thrive in conflict, your soul spirit is akin to Martian energy and loves a good fight, to be honest.

Your power is in your belief that everything will work out in your favor. “I have the power of God and anime on my side.”

If you’re not quite at this level yet and you don’t see yourself as this peaceful warrior, you got the “soothe”, “present”, and “friendship” cards. It’s your nerves, baby. It has nothing to do with you as a person. You are smart enough. You are capable. You have everything you need to ride into this new life.

The entire collective is being asked to slow down. The hustle in society right now does not allow our nervous systems to regulate themselves so everyone is miserable and drained. Remove yourself from this hustle and ground yourself in the present. You have to soothe yourself and lower your cortisol levels. Baby yourself, you deserve it.

Look up techniques to regulate your parasympathetic nervous on YouTube.

Anyway, your soul caught me off guard, you're that sexy mf fr. Ummm back to scent..

YES, okay so please don’t take this the wrong way because I am obsessed with what I'm getting. Hear me out, I used to take kickboxing classes for a few years and that particular gym’s scent was my favorite fucking scent.

It sounds weird but it smelled like pent-up stress relief: sweat, blood, and Clorox.

Of course, I’m not saying you smell like this, but this is how I perceive the scent your soul carries.

Your soul’s scent is victory. Particularly, through a bloody means. Your soul understands the purification in blood. Extremely Martian. You’re chill but you’re really fucking intense dude. I like you.

Oooo and also, hang out with friends!! Genuine contact can help relax your body.

Mmmkaye bye!

The Blood You Spill Is The Blood of Kings

#arijackz #pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #astrology observations #pick a pile #scents #perfume #fragrance

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neil-gaiman · 10 hours

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Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

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kakiastro · 3 days

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Astrology Notes:

Mercury Edition

This is what my astrology notes look like lol

-People who have a Mercury-Uranus aspect can indicate having lots of intelligence. These are the “mad geniuses” of our world. These native may have lots of ideas on how to help humanity as a whole. You might be in a lot of controversies over your words or be misunderstood. On the flip side of this aspect, this can indicate someone who has a strong knowledge of it all personality and don’t want to hear others options. May get offended easy and loves to argue.

-Mercury/Moon aspect natives need to control their emotions before they speak especially if you have it in a harsher aspect like a square or opposition. You may get flustered or your feelings may get hurt easily. These natives are sensitive to words, they may act like they don’t care but it definitely hurt their heart. On the flip side, they may be mostly the quiet type of people. Once they open up, it’s like a whole different person lol. They also have a strong intuition, they understand people more than they let on. They also have a soft spot for babies and young kids.

-Mercury Capricorn/10h natives has a lot of wisdom within them. They start learning harsh lessons during there early years. Usually by the time they reach their first Saturn return, they may sound like a retired 60 year old giving out advice due what they’ve endured 😅 Capricorn rules over time, so as they get older, the more introspection they have on the word. These are the perfect natives to receive advice from because of the lived experience. On the flip side, if these natives use their words or actions to hurt others, it will come back. Capricorn is one of the “power” placements , hence why it rules the 10h(highest point our chart) so moral of the story, use your words for good. Make stretching your daily routine, your cap Mercury will one day thank you. Also, take care of your teeth, even if you can’t afford to go the dentist , brush them and floss.

-Mercury/Jupiter aspect natives have a thirst for knowledge and seeking the truth. They don’t believe in the theory “not everything has an answer.” Because to them it does, you’re just too stupid to them to find it but they will😅don’t lie, y’all know it’s true! These natives will make excellent historians, professors, gurus, researchers, writers. They are pretty open about their beliefs and don’t mind debating you about them.

-Mercury Pisces/12h natives occasionally experience brain fog😅 they have the ideas and creativity but they’re time when their brain is filled with smoke😭 sometimes they just be talking and we don’t know what their talking about but they have beautiful voices so we let it slide lol. Speaking of voices, they are incredibly singers, like you just get lost or hypnotized by their words. Listening to frequency music or Lo-fi songs will help soothe y’all mind. Take care of feet, clip your big toe nail and put some lotion on them. Don’t be out here with goblin feet😭

-Mercury Sagittarius/9h natives loves foreign cultures and always traveling some damn where chile😅 these natives are either anti-religious or very religious. They may also just like studying religion as an interest without really holding those beliefs themselves. May have lots of father figures growing up. May have their own library of books and publications they love to keep. These natives, like Capricorn are also good at giving advice because they’re constantly researching or reading to find answers. Take care of y’all legs by stretching, running, even if you’re disabled, if you can, physical therapy or someone you trust can stretch your legs for you. I know everyone circumstances is different and that’s ok! Do what you can with what you got!

-Chiron Gemini /3h words can be so healing but triggering at the same time. They tell it like it is and it can sting but at the same, their advice can help the collective. They may have a wound with a sibling(s) . They could’ve been bullied in elementary school. These people at their best, turn their pain into healing and help others. They may understand the misunderstood people in our world. At worst, they use their pain to hurt others , they may have started out doing that but then started learn and heal. It really depends on the person because we all have free will.

-Chiron is said to associated with Virgo since it’s a healer astroid. It’s also associated with Sagittarius because he’s a teacher and a centaur which are ruled by Jupiter.

-Mercury/Venus natives have such beautiful voices and has a way with words😍these are the true charmers, they way that they can make you fall in love with them with just their voice and words. If they decided to write a book, it would get lots of attention especially if they write romance and poetry.

-Mercury Aries’s /1h natives loves cussing and has a potty mouth on them for sure 😅y’all put a sailor to shame. They may come off as brash with their words even though they mean well. You just have to listen to the words and not the tone sometimes😅. I also notice these natives tend to get lots of headaches or migraines with this placement.

I’ll stop here but I might make a part 2 to this. Let me know what Mercury placements or aspect you want me to make note on. I’m also open for paid readings if you’re interested!

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #astro observations #advanced astrology #astrology notes #astrology notes by kakiastro #mercury astrology #mercury astrology notes #birth chart #kakiastro #tropical astrology

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ozzgin · 2 days

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Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios

A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.

Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days

[First story] [More parodies original works]

Case 1: Third contender

Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.

“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.

“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”

You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.

“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”

“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.

“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”

You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.

“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”

A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.

Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”

“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”

What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?

Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.

“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”

The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.

“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”

You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.

“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.

“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”

The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.

The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.

"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"

You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.

"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.

“You belong to us.”

(No slick folds were harmed in the process)

Case 2: Picture frame

The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.

Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.

“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”

The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.

"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"

"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."

Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.

Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:

First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.

Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.

Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.

The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.

“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.

“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are, it’s just…”

You stop in your tracks.

“When did you get this?”

“Today. Do you like it?”

“It’s…nice.”

You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.

It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.

“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”

“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Who? Ah, right.”

Case 3: Hidden Ending

You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.

Not anymore.

You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.

You have been cucked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”

Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.

“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.

#yandere #yandere gamer boyfriend #gamer boyfriend versus tentacle monster #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere meme #yandere parody #yandere imagines #yandere concept

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mrsparrasblog · 2 days

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POLY 141 x pregnant Reader

Ever thought about what it would be like to be pregnant with this gigantic pile of handsome men? Because I've thought about it, and I can go into heavy detail—I will go into heavy detail!

Price: This man has a heavy breeding kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. He was so happy when he found out you were pregnant that he immediately got into heavy Dad mode. "What do you mean?" he asked after you told him he doesn't need to baby-proof the house when you're only in the second month. He attends baby preparation courses with you and overall turns into a super daddy.

Johnny: The second one with a heavy breeding kink is 100% sure he is the father. "It's the MacTavish genes," he says confidently. "We're going to have at least three bairns by the end of the five-year mark." He wouldn't admit it, but he called his mother crying while he told her the news. The MacTavish Family was special, so they all came with big stroller gifts and the urge to overwhelm you with their love. They don't care who the baby's biological father is; in their hearts, you're a MacTavish, exactly like your sweet little bairn.

Kyle: He is really excited. He already loves the baby and is also 100% sure it's his because you two have the most sex out of all of them. He always fights with Johnny about who the father probably is. Kyle is the one who thinks the most about you. He knows how you struggle with the pregnancy and how it isn't easy for you with all the overwhelming baby daddies around you, so he takes his time to care about you. He compliments you more than ever, and if you have a weird craving, he's already ordered it before you even said a word. He is constantly trying to find a baby-safe option of your favorite food. He doesn't drink coffee anymore so you don't mourn alone. Check-up? He is the first to be there, and when the baby was born and everyone looked at it, he went to you. Not because he loves the baby less—it's his world—but because he was so afraid the whole pregnancy of losing his soulmate, the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing that kept him alive.

Ghost: He never wanted kids—at least he thought he didn't—but it made sense with you. He knew you would be the best mother in the world. So why was he so afraid? He thought about how he could hurt the baby all the time with his pure strength or how he would scare the baby or hurt you. For a blissful second, he thought maybe it would be better if he left so you'd be safe from all the shadows of his past. But he was better than his family. He bought lots of parenting books, went to his psychologist regularly, and attended dad meetings, not daddy meetings—a terrible mistake he made. He even bought you a guard dog for the possibility that you and the baby are alone. To his surprise, but not to yours, he was the most gentle and understanding dad there ever was.

Dont ask me why my brain came up with this weird stuff again but Im already thinking about how they react when they found out who the biological father is lol

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starkwlkr · 2 days

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teacups and princesses | max verstappen

an: i’ve never been to disneyworld/land so sorry if anything is wrong lol

Max had promised Ophelia a trip to Disney World whenever they made it to Miami. That’s all the little girl could talk about. She even made a list of all the things she wanted to do and characters she wanted to meet. Max would do anything to see his baby girl happy so your little family of three arrived to America earlier than you usually would so Ophelia could spend a day at Disney.

Max wanted her day to feel magical so he bought her an identical sleeping beauty dress and pink glittery flats instead of those plastic heels that came worth the dress.

“Papa, you have to wear the ears!” Ophelia pointed at the Mickey wars that were on display. “Please!”

“You think papa would look cute in them?” Max grabbed her hand and walked with her to the store. You couldn’t help but take a picture of them.

“Yes! And mama can wear this one!” Ophelia pointed to the Minnie ears.

“Oh, mama is going to look so beautiful in these. Can you pick some ears for me? I want to look beautiful like mama.” Max grabbed the Minnie ears and placed them on your head. He then took his phone out and took a picture of you.

Ophelia was taking the job of finding the perfect Mickey ears for Max very seriously. She had changed her mind at least four times. When she spotted the perfect ones, she immediately grabbed them and showed them to her dad.

“I love them, phee. Here, put them on.” He crouched down so Ophelia could place the ears on his head.

“You look pretty! But mama looks prettier.” The girl giggled.

“I’ll take that.” Max chuckled.

After paying for the ears, the first stop was a ride that Ophelia had been wanting to ride for a while. The line for the teacups was a little long, but Max kept Ophelia entertained by asking her the most random questions.

“If you were a any color of the rainbow, which one would you be?”

Ophelia thought about it. Orange? No, she didn’t like it. Blue? Not even close.

“I wanna be every color!”

“That’s what I was going to say!” Max replied.

“What about you mama? What color of the rainbow would you be?” Ophelia asked you.

“I would be red. I love the color red.” You nodded.

“Traitor!” Max said jokingly.

After a while, it was your turn to ride the teacups. A while back Ophelia had told Max she wanted to ride the pink teacup so Max, wanting to be the best dad ever, raced to get to the pink teacup first.

“You know you were the only adult running for a teacup, right?” You laughed at Max. You helped Ophelia get into the teacup.

“If my girl wants the pink teacup, she’s getting the pink teacup.”

When the ride started, you all turned the wheel as fast as you could since Ophelia wanted to go super fast. Hearing your daughter laugh was like a sweet song that you never wanted to end.

“Faster!” Ophelia yelled.

You looked at Max. The smile on his face never left. It warmed your heart seeing him so happy.

When the ride ended, you were all tired from turning the wheel. You were pretty sure your arms were about to fall off, but it was worth it.

“Where to next, princess Ophelia?” Max questioned.

“I want to meet Mickey and Minnie and Sleeping beauty and Cinderella . . .” She listed all the characters she wanted to meet.

Of course Max made it all possible. He never broke his promises when it came to you and Ophelia.

As you walked around, you were on the search for sleeping beauty. Ophelia was getting disappointed that she was no where to be found, but her dad assured her that she would meet sleeping beauty.

“Phee, look over there.” You pointed towards a small group of children that were gathered around Princess Aurora.

Ophelia looked and practically fainted at the sight of her favorite princess. “Mama! Papa! It’s sleeping beauty!” She pointed at the blonde princess.

“Let’s go!” Max grabbed Ophelia’s hand.

When you got to where sleeping beauty was, Ophelia had gone shy. She was in the presence of her favorite Disney princess, how could she not be shy?

“Look at you! We have matching dresses! Oh, I love your shoes!” Princess Aurora told Ophelia.

“My papa got them for me.” She said in a low tone.

“Well your papa definitely picked the most beautiful shoes for you. They’re so glittery, I love them. Can I keep them?”

“But they’re too small for you!” Ophelia laughed at the thought of the princess wearing tiny shoes.

“You’re right,” the princess said sadly. “But maybe we can ask someone with magic to make the shoes bigger?”

“Wait! My papa knows where to buy these shoes but bigger for you! And then we can match more!”

You and Max watch the whole interaction with smiles on your faces. It was too cute.

“You know, Ophelia asked me when are is she going to have a baby brother because she’s our princess and now we need a prince.” Max told you.

“And what do you think?” You ask him.

“I think . . . that’s she’s right.”

“A boy. A mini you.” You kissed Max. “Just you, me and our little girl and boy, sounds like the perfect dream.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #dad!max verstappen

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theoldsports · 3 days

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SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

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afterglowsainz · 2 days

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supernatural | carlos sainz

summary: no one knows you and carlos are dating until he wins the australian grand prix and you have to interview him post-race

fc: lissie mackintosh (kind of!!)

a/n: this was very inspired by THAT video of íker casillas and sara carbonero after spain won the world cup in 2010, iykyk 😮‍💨

—

liked by landonorris, robertomerhi and others

carlossainz55 enjoying the last free days in australia before going back to work 🌴🐨

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liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc and others

carlossainz55 P1 in australiaaa! what a rollercoaster🎢 let’s keep it coming

tagged yourusername

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yourusername and that’s a wrap in australia🫶🏽 congrats, my pretty boy🤍 (ladies don’t get too close or he’ll try to kiss you on national television!)

tagged carlossainz55

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leclerclov3 · 11 hours

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｡･:*˚:✧｡ P1 BABY!!!!!!

masterlist

✰Pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

✰Warning: /

✰Summary: in which the world gets a glimpse the wild celebrations that follow after lando's first win

mclaren

Liked by yourusername and 848,449 others

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER!

LANDO WINS THE #MIAMIGP!!

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yourusername THAT'S MY MANNN 🧡🧡🧡

yourusername I'M SO PROUDDD

user82 OH MY GODDDDD HE DID IT!!

user91 one lost an appendix and won, the other hurt his nose and won something's going on here 🤔

user73 lando nowins became lando norris

user56 LANDO YOU'RE THE ONEEE

user66 ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!

user45 Lando is the king of Miami !!

user82 he done it

user04 Let's gooooo

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 2,602,846 others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆 ps. thank you for all the support babe couldn't've done it without you 🧡

tagged: yourusername

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yourusername SO PROUD OF YOU LOVEEE

↳landonorris couldn't of done it without you 🧡

yourusername LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO

*liked by landonorris*

georgerussell63 Congrats mate!!

lewishamilton WELL DONE

fernandoalo_oficial Bravooooo

maxfewtrell So proud brother

oscarpiastri Well done man

user41 Don't break the trophy lando

user77 i have never celebrated a victory as much as today

user48 This Lando Norris win is the plot twist we all needed in the 2024 season

user32 DU DU DU DU LANDO NORRIS

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 81,729 others

yourusername so proud of you love words cannot even express all the emotions i feel right now 🧡 go papaya🏆

tagged: landonorris, mclaren

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landonorris awwww that's so sweet thank you love

↳yourusername you deserve it baby 🧡

oscarpiastri where was my post when i won in japan hmmm 😐

↳landonorris she clearly likes me more then you mate

↳oscarpiastri exuse you she so doesn't

↳landonorris she so does

↳yourusername kids no fighting in my comment section i like you both equally

user819 omg they're so cute

user628 literally the it couple of the paddock

charles_leclerc i was third why wasn't i mentioned y/n 🤨

↳yourusername ups...🤷‍♀️

user28 i just love her relationship with everyone on tge grid

user52 she is the moment

user71 he literally ate and left no crumbs let's go landooooo

user91 so proud of him i might of cried..

mclaren so is this the lart where we say that you cried like a baby or....

↳yourusername admin...watch your back i know who you are..

↳mclaren oh..oh that's not...

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 1,829,910 others

yourusername as you can clearly see we had a fucking blast and onece more i am so proud of you lan you deserved this 🧡🏆

tagged: landonorris, georgerussell63 and 10 others

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landonorris i have a killer headache but at least i don't have and other physical injuries

↳yourusername you were close had i not been there..

↳lewishamilton you're not fooling anyone y/n you were both drunk of your ass and i had to babysit

↳yourusername FALSE FALSE ACCUSATIONS I SAY

carlossainz55 had a blast glad we got to celebrate together

charles_leclerc alex says to not let me drink so much again

↳yourusername next time bring her too we'll get her drunk aswell problem=solved

↳charles_leclerc smarttt

↳alexandrasaintmleux you're both dumb 🤦‍♀️

user28 i love her relationship with the grid

user48 icons all of them

user72 i am so jealous rn

user29 i've never had such intense fomo in my life

｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:

HE WON HE FREAKING WONNNN WOO!!! as you can see i'm very excited so i just had to write something about it i know it's not the best but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless <3

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headspace-hotel · 7 hours

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It's important to not force your human morals onto non-human nature, like "this creature, since it disgusts me, is bad" or "this creature, since it has behaviors I interpret as sweet and heartwarming, is good"

But if you study nature whether in life or in profession, nature will make you feel disgusted and uncomfortable, it's not necessary to act as if those feelings don't exist within you, because they are part of your encounter with the otherness of nature, and contain sensitivities that can be sharpened into their own ingredient to knowledge and awareness

Coexisting with discomforting parts of the reality of Nature without trying to resolve them into a moral or aesthetic framework you are happy with, reflects maturity

It is no good to "redeem" a hated animal if the redemption is another false idea of the animal as innocent and good. This implies that a creature's "goodness" is a valid reason it deserves existence. It is also no good to treat a beloved animal with hatred to make things fair.

A good example is with dolphins and sharks, dolphins were seen as good and cute and almost human, whereas sharks were seen as bloodthirsty killers, and this has cost the lives of sharks while dolphins are given more sympathy, so some people have tried to turn it around, portraying sharks as gentle and good while pointing out that dolphins can be violent and rape other dolphins.

A lot of dolphin behaviors are certainly upsetting, definitely it makes sense to be upset that an animal can engage in what appears like cruelty, but human morality isn't made to apply to non- humans, and a particular behavior is not the entire reality of what a whole species is like. Dolphins also engage in behaviors that humans judge as friendly, compassionate, altruistic, curious and playful

Think of a particular dog or cat and the variety of complex behaviors they are capable of—an entire species, made of individuals with their own complexity, must be far more complex. All of your emotional responses to dolphins are recognizing the immense complexity of these animals and how they are both like and unlike you, which is important to think about to expand your understanding of the universe

Fitting a creature to a flat framework for your own comfort or internal resolution is a disrespect to the creature. Certainly with sharks, everyone should know the facts about them rather than sensationalistic misinformation—shark attacks are rare, humans are not a preferred food for sharks, and most shark bites are exploratory investigations of a strange object or animal rather than feeding upon a selected prey item, however this doesn't mean sharks are "good" by human standards and it certainly doesn't mean sharks are "safe."

Seeing a video of an enormous Great White swimming placidly I feel that her presence is not just breathtakingly beautiful, but awesome—in the more archaic sense of something that inspires awe, something so great and powerful it could destroy your fragile human life without malicious intent. Likewise with any shark, it is respectful to recognize that they can be dangerous, it is disrespectful to think of them as ocean puppies and try to touch them and grab them.

Fear, disgust, anger—each is an instinct that functions to protect you and is reactive towards potential or perceived threats. Your brain allows you to evaluate things that cause these responses and choose how to act.

All parts of this whole are important because the natural world contains actual threats but knowledge and intentional behavior are important to protecting yourself.

For example, once when I found a tick crawling on my clothing, I felt disgusted and startled, which is appropriate, but my instinctive reaction was to immediately flick the tick off, flinging it onto the floor or furniture nearby where I no longer knew where it was. In this way my response didn't actually protect me but instead increased the level of risk

There are plenty of other examples—if someone sees a venomous snake they might think it is important to kill it, but trying to kill the snake is much more dangerous than leaving it alone, since the snake will try to defend itself. Spraying pesticides to kill bugs can unbalance the ecosystem causing more harmful pests than you started with because the natural predators are also killed. Using poisons to kill mice and rats will also poison their natural predators. Killing coyotes just causes them to disperse and reproduce at a higher rate, and killing wolves causes overpopulation of prey, which causes disease to proliferate and forests to be stripped bare of saplings that could grow up and regenerate the forest...

...And it also works the opposite way with human responses of affection, love and sociability: humans often may feel that they want to make an animal their friend, but often it would be cruel to take that animal into a human house and treat it as a pet. White-tailed deer may seem cute and sympathetic but hunting some of them is important for the health of the ecosystem, and trying to make them tame puts the deer and the humans in danger. Domestic cats are our friends but they are also invasive species in much of the world, destroying populations of birds, mammals and amphibians.

Domestic cats aren't serial killers or murderers either, they are just predatory animals that instinctively hunt and kill prey.

It is hard for facts about animals to be propagated while those facts must be presented as reasons the animal deserves to live or deserves to die. Virginia opossums are important to their ecosystem and deserve to exist. They also don't actually eat ticks, that came from a very flawed and sloppy scientific study that was contradicted by later studies, and sadly the reason this misinformation got so far is that it was "proof" that opossums are valuable and shouldn't be killed for no reason.

Wolves are keystone species and vital to their ecosystems, but it's not true that they never attack humans, there have been a small handful of wolf attacks on humans, it's very few and wolves generally avoid humans but they're not "safe." They shouldn't have to be "safe" to deserve to live.

Fact is, most animals can harm a human if they feel threatened or end up in an unlucky situation! Most animals can spread disease one way or another! We have to live with this, we have to learn and use strategies to keep ourselves safe, we can't just sterilize the world of animals because of a possibility that an animal could hurt someone, any more than we can cut down every tree because trees fall on people sometimes.

No one likes hearing that there's no way to for-sure eliminate all possibility of ticks from your yard, you just have to take precautions against them, but it's true! Just like there's an inherent possibility a wasp could sting you, an inherent possibility a snake could bite you, an inherent possibility a mountain lion could eat your livestock, but you can dramatically lower your risk of these things by knowing how to coexist with these animals.

#nature #thoughts #random

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worldlxvlys · 1 day

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Tension Reliever

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend causes you to feel stressed out, Matt and Chris provide a tension reliever offering you a massage, though they don’t pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the situation you guys end up in.

Warnings: 18+ content, p in v, threesome, cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m receiving), oral (m receiving), cursing

A/N -> collab with the literal love of my life @selenascorner <33

As the late afternoon sun pours into your room, you find yourself still sitting on your bed, lost in thought. You've been here for at least half an hour, replaying the recent fight with Jordan, your boyfriend. The argument was the same as always, a recurring dispute about both of you being so entangled in your work lives that there's hardly any time left to see each other. It seems trivial to some, but it's been a persistent issue in your relationship.

However, the argument about time is just the tip of the iceberg. Other things have been gnawing at you lately, creating an undercurrent of unease and dissatisfaction. Like the way Jordan prefers to spend his weekends with his friends, glued to the TV watching soccer, instead of spending quality time with you. Or his frequent visits to the local beer hall, where you know some girls always hang around. On top of all this, you're painted as the paranoid one in the relationship. Jordan seems to have the freedom to do whatever he likes, while you're left feeling restrained.

This situation has been your reality for far too long. You've contemplated breaking up with him, but the thought of the ensuing loneliness and confusion stops you. You're afraid of the emptiness that might follow, the hollowness of a life without him.

In a moment of desperation, you reach for your phone on the nightstand. Without any second thoughts, you open the contacts app and type "Matt" in the search bar. Matt has always been there, a pillar of support when you needed it.

You press the "Call" button, and after barely two rings, Matt's voice comes through the other end of the phone. He asks, "Hey, are you doing okay?" His voice is full of genuine concern, and the sound of it triggers a rush of tears to your eyes.

“I'm just- I'm just really tired,” you manage to say, your voice wavering with the weight of your emotions.

“Oh man, are you okay? Do I need to come over?” He asks, his tone comforting and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

“Can you guys come over? I need you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. And without a moment's hesitation, he responds.

“Uh... right now it's just me and Chris at home. Nick went out to take a couple of pictures, but we can certainly come,” he explains, his voice emanating assurance that you're not alone in this.

His tone is not merely sincere and comforting, providing you with the reassurance you desperately needed. "Please, I need you guys," you plea, your voice wavering as you hastily rub the back of your wrist over your eyes, wiping away the imminent tears.

"Alright, alright, just give us about ten minutes. Though I promise it'll feel shorter if you don't count them. See you soon, gorgeous," he says before disconnecting the call. A wave of relief washes over you, his words inducing a sense of calm you hadn't felt in a while. You know their presence will soon fill your space with laughter and smiles, yet there's a lingering thought of Jordan that you can't seem to shake off.

You push yourself up and take a few steps and get into the bathroom. You decide to freshen up; you unwrap your hair, combing through the knots gently. You pick up your toothbrush and give your teeth a good scrub.

Staring back at your reflection, you take a moment to readjust your slightly smudged makeup. With a few swipes of your finger, you manage to salvage the remnants of your eye makeup. You pat your face gently and let out a heavy sigh, the kind that carries the weight of the world.

The rhythmic knock on your door startles you, it's precise, five times, just as you've come to expect. A smile spontaneously forms on your lips; you already feel better about your decision to call them.

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by your best friends - Matthew, clad in a casual hooded jacket, and Chris, standing a bit behind him, donning a jacket and a cap.

"Hey," is all that Matthew manages to utter before he strides towards you, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. Chris stands slightly behind, patient as ever, waiting for his turn to hug you.

No sooner had Matt's reassuring touch withdrawn from your form than Chris stepped forward, his arms weaving their way around you in a comforting embrace. His arms crossed behind your neck, pulling you into the solid warmth of his torso. A sense of safety washed over you, soothing your nerves.

One of Chris's hands migrated to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into his very being. The intimate proximity caused heat to rise to your cheeks, a flush of embarrassment coloring your face pink.

After this tender exchange outside, you invited them into the house. Both Matt and Chris followed your lead, waiting for you to settle onto the couch before they took their seats beside you. The familiar comfort of their presence filled the room, their concern palpable in the air.

Chris was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with worry, "Are you okay, y/n? Matt rushed over here in such a hurry." A light chuckle escaped your lips at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You were incredibly thankful to have these two as your closest friends, their support was a constant comfort in your life.

Pushing down the lump in your throat, you managed to croak out, "I'm fine. It’s just... Jordan." The name hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, and you felt Matt's body stiffen next to you. He let out a deep sigh, his jaw clenching noticeably. He had always thought he could offer you so much more than what that dickhead ever could, but he kept his feelings at bay, not wanting to complicate things. His primary concern was your happiness.

"Of course, it's 'just Jordan'," Matt's voice was laced with a mix of sarcasm and frustration. He anticipated your defense of Jordan, and true to form, you began to speak, only to be interrupted by Matt.

"Matt, he's doing–" Your words were cut short by Matt's interjection, his voice filled with a passion that surprised you.

"He's doing the best he can, I know. He's working too hard, trust me, we know that. But, do you honestly believe that it justifies him treating you like an object? Do you truly think you deserve such treatment?" Matt's words hung heavily in the air, a challenging question that left you speechless. Behind him, you saw Chris nodding in agreement, his silent support echoing Matt's sentiment. It was a stark realization, one that even you couldn't deny. Jordan was in the wrong.

"You're right." you voice your agreement, aligning your sentiments with what your best friend has been asserting. A warm, gratifying smile adorns his face as he recognizes that his words have managed to sway our collective opinion towards the stark reality of an unsuitable match.

"Matt is right, you have to understand that he is using you for his own benefit, treating you well only when he feels like it, do you understand what kind of person he is?" Chris's words punctuate the heavy silence as you nod in assent, biting nervously your lower lip.

You always knew about all this; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You wanted to keep being deluded, for some reason. You wanted that. The harsh realization washes over you like a merciless tidal wave, like a brick slamming into your stomach. Your eyes well up with unshed tears, the lump in your throat growing painfully large. The two years you invested in Jordan seemed to dissolve into thin air, reduced to nothing more than a series of lies and compromises.

Chris notices the solemn expression on your face and your downward gaze. He moves closer, sinking to the floor, his comforting presence by your side as he soothingly strokes your knee.

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better? Anything at all." Chris's voice is soft, his question echoing in the silence. The situation feels awkward, leaving you feeling exposed. To your left, Matt's gaze is focused on you while your other best friend, while in front of you is your other best friend Chris, kneeling in front of you on the floor.

"Uh- I don't know. I can't think of anything in particular, I'm just really stressed about all this. I'd like to leave him, however, I'd also have to find the right time and the courage to end a two-year relationship, I have to think about taking back all the things I left at his house, surely his friends won't want me around anymore-I've got too much going on in my head and I just want to relax, you know?" Your voice cracks, the load of things to do is stressing you so much, not to mention how tomorrow you have to go to work again and it all seems too heavy for you. Everything seems too overwhelming.

"I don't know, man. Would you like a massage or something?" A chuckle escapes your lips at Matthew's surprising suggestion. You turn your body towards him, your eyebrow arched in confusion.

"A massage?" Your question rings in the silence, your hand swiftly moving to cover your mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh straight at his face.

"Damn it, just ignore what I said. I proposed something nice and you laughed in my face." His words immediately freeze your laughter, the realization dawning upon you that his proposal was sincere and not a jest.

"Uh... you're right, I apologize. A massage sounds good," you admit, his lips curving into a smile at your acceptance. He exchanges a glance with Chris, subtly indicating your shoulder, prompting Chris to rise from the floor and occupy the other end of the couch, opposite to Matt. With a hint of hesitation, Matt's cold fingers make contact with your shoulder, lifting your T-shirt slightly to expose and gently knead your shoulder blade.

Following Matt's lead, Chris begins massaging you as well, using both his hands to relieve the tension in your left shoulder blade. The pressure of their fingers digging into your skin to loosen the tense muscle sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, even reaching up to your neck.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," the words tumble out of your mouth, accompanied by a soft moan of pleasure. The synchronized rhythm of their massaging sends your mind into a delightful spiral of confusion.

Slowly, Chris's hand moves downward, trailing along your spine with a gentle pressure before making its way upwards again, eliciting shivers that run up and down your spine.

"Does this feel good?" Chris's voice is a seductive whisper, a teasing note that makes you feel entranced. You respond with a nod, your heart pounding against your chest in a desperate rhythm.

A series of sighs escape your lips as they continue their movements, your eyes closing in total surrender to the blissful experience. Unexpectedly, you feel Chris's lips on your neck, replacing his hands. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses along your neck, descending towards your collarbone. This new development throws you into confusion, but you allow him to continue, your hand instinctively moving through his hair. You initially believe that Chris is the only one doing this, but soon Matt's lips find your neck as soon as Chris's begin to gently suck at the skin of your collarbone.

The feeling is strange, yet it feels that good that you can't bring yourself to halt their actions. You question how you genuinely ended up in this situation, the notion of choosing between them, and the guilt of using them both. However, the way they are both leaving marks on your neck sends your senses spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure.

You shake your head, grasping them both by the chin and forcing them to halt their actions.

"Hold on, what are you guys doing?" You ask, your hands holding their faces by the jaw.

"Just helping you relax," Chris's reply is laced with sarcasm, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"No- seriously guys, what's going on?" Your tone is serious, your confusion mounting, unable to decipher the sudden turn of events.

"I think you're aware of what's going on." Chris retorts, his swollen, red lips drawing your attention.

"Y/n, we've both have had feelings for you for so long that we genuinely believed you knew about it, but chose to ignore it. Jordan's a dickhead, you're deserving of so much more. Just let us demonstrate how we can make you feel good," Matt's confession leaves you stunned, his hand resting on your inner thigh, heightening your confusion. They like you? How long has this been going on? How had you never noticed?

"Wait but- isn't this wrong? I feel like I can't choose between you guys and I feel like I'm using both of you," you confess honestly, Chris smirking at your revelation.

"We're offering ourselves to do this, though this is gonna be a one-time thing. I don't fuck with this shit. Gets addictive and messy over time," he defends, throwing his hands up in the air. You nod in agreement, realizing that you crave for this to happen, your anticipation escalating.

Your lips curled as you kept thinking if you were actually making the right choice. Was this right? Was it wrong? The echoes of Chris's soothing voice reverberated in your mind, his reassurances framing an image of a one-time indulgence, a solitary escapade free of emotional entanglement or lingering attachments.

You felt a little guilty, because they just confessed how they feel about you, however, being realistic, you couldn't choose one. You wanted both, and even if that was wrong in your head, however screw it.

Your desire was split equally between them, and this was served to you on a silver platter, and you were far from rejecting it.

Shaking off your thoughts, your attention returned to Chris. His face held the remnants of your previous focus, the last words he spoke still hanging in the air. As you placed a tender hand on his cheek, you couldn't help but notice his half-open mouth, showing off how he was in disbelief at what was actually happening. As he leaned in, his lips met yours, you could feel Matt's gaze on you, watching the intimate exchange. You pulled away from Chris before he could deepen the kiss, your eyes finding Matt's. Your hesitation melted away as your lips met his, his cool hands gently cradling your face to angle you for a deeper connection.

As Matt's tongue deepened the kiss, Chris's hands found your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck. His gentle touches earn a moan from you, the sound muffled by Matt's kiss. Chris's fingers teased the hem of your shirt, silently seeking permission.

Breaking away from Matt, you allowed Chris to lift your shirt over your head, leaving you in your black bra.

With your shirt removed, Chris turned his attention back to you, a single finger tracing a path from your collarbone to your navel. "Well, look at this," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His lips found yours once again, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as a metallic clink echoed throughout the room. Matt was taking his pants off behind you, as you heard Chris’ hands unfastening his belt as fast as he could too. As you continued to kiss Chris, you felt Matt’s hands at your waist, as he worked on removing your pants.

A blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks as you stood in your underwear between them for the first time. Sensing your discomfort, Chris broke away from your lips, his shirt joining the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor, revealing his tousled hair and unshaven chest. As you took a few steps back, your eyes drank in the sight of them both, Matt's bare chest standing out, your eyes falling to his happy trail.

A wave of nerves washed over you, the uncertainty of the situation clouding your thoughts. Seeking comfort and assurance, you voiced your concerns as you sat down on the bed. "How does this work?" Your question was genuine, and curious. Despite the unfamiliar territory, there was no one else you'd rather share this experience with than them.

"Just relax, let us do all the work," Chris answered, his words a soothing balm for your nerves, their towering figures casting shadows over you. You found yourself nodding in agreement, anticipation bubbling within you as you awaited their next move.

"Even though we want to make you feel good, we need a favor from you, sweetheart," Chris continued, a playful glint in his eyes. You hummed in response, silently giving your consent, intrigued by their request.

"Do you think you could take two dicks at once, angel?" he asked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as Matt leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at his question, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with anticipation. Matt let go of your shoulder, standing upright next to Chris.

Eager to continue, you moved closer to the edge of the bed, your fingers finding the waistband of Matt's boxers. Your actions were teasing, slow as you pulled him closer by them. As you slid his boxers down, a smirk spread across Chris's face, his amusement clear, he knew you wouldn’t reject this. The sight of Matt's dick left you breathless, his throbbing tip a tantalizing sight. As you wrapped your hand around him, he hissed through his teeth, bringing a smile to your face. You began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Chris moved closer, ready for his turn.

As you continued to stroke Matt, he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze while your other hand continued its movements. Chris's gaze mirrored Matt's, a silent plea for you to do the same for him. You complied, momentarily letting go of Matt’s cock to undress Chris, his boxers joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, both of them were at your mercy, their dicks standing proud, waiting for your touch.

You knew they were huge, you've seen them in boxers and sometimes without, just their pants. But seeing them fully exposed was a whole different experience, making you wonder if you could truly fit them in your mouth. Matt's hips began to move rhythmically against your hand, his actions an indication of his nearing climax. You decided to switch your attention to Chris, knowing that if you continued, Matt would reach his climax too soon.

Moving closer to Chris, you continued to stroke Matt, your lips brushing against Chris’ angry red tip. His moan of approval encouraged you to take him in your mouth, his fingers caressing your cheek as Matt gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. You took more of Chris into your mouth, your throat stretching to fit him. His words of praise spurred you on, "Such a good girl, sucking me off so well. I bet you could fit all of me in, can't you, angel?"

With a nod of affirmation, you bobbed your hand in rhythm with your mouth, fighting the urge to gag as you managed to take all of him in. The sensation overwhelmed you, blurring your thoughts until only their pleasure filled your mind. You felt like his dick fucked your mind. Pulling away, you wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist, a smirk gracing your lips as you shifted your focus to Matt. Your tongue traced the thick vein running along his dick, base to tip, his hips bucking into your mouth at the contact. Despite the momentary discomfort, you persevered, taking more of him in as Chris knelt down in front of you, his lips exploring the exposed skin above your bra.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and low moans, the tension palpable as you continued to pleasure them. Your hands were busy, one stroking Chris, the other sucking Matt off. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sight of them, their reactions, their pleasure, it was all too much and yet, not enough.

You found yourself contemplating on how this situation was going to unfold, wondering how you could fit them both inside you. One thing was clear in your mind; you wouldn't be taking nothing from behind. Gently, you backed away to allow Matt and Chris to sit on the bed. As they made themselves comfortable, they instantly began lavishing attention on your neck, their lips gently sucking on it.

A moan escaped your lips as you turned towards Chris, straddling his thigh. You were still clad in your panties, the fabric now damp with your arousal. He responded by grasping your hips, guiding you on his exposed thigh.

"Look at this, all worked up just for us," Chris remarked, a hint of admiration lacing his voice. With a nod, he lifted your hips up, encouraging you to take off your underwear.

"Smart girl," he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk.

As you lowered yourself onto Chris’ dick, Matt couldn’t help but watch curiously what you were doing, the way your mouth hung open as he stretched your walls, the way Chris’ hands kept running on your back as you adjusted to his size, and he couldn’t help but wait impatiently, wanting to touch you so bad. Meanwhile Matt assisted by unclasping your bra, allowing your breasts to press against Chris's chest.

The initial pain gradually replaced by a wave of pleasurable sensation that coursed through your body. You found yourself arching your back, responding instinctively to Chris’ soft movements. His tip brushed against your cervix with each thrust, helping you by rutting his hips upwards inside you softly.

"Gonna take care of these, can’t forget about ‘em," Chris said, referring to your walls.

Behind you, Matthew was preparing himself. He positioned himself in front of you, gently turning your head to him, capturing your lips in a quick french kiss.

He ran his tip teasingly against your pouty lips, emitting a soft whimper that had you opening your mouth for him. Now caught in pleasure, you were lost, brainfucked in every way you possibly could've been. Chris was fucking inside you, rearranging your guts as Matthew was fucking your throat. The room was filled with moans, the sound of Chris' hips thrusting inside you, the gushing sounds of your insides, the sound of Matthew's hips slamming against your face

"If there's one thing I know for sure, is that Jordan definitely didn't know how to fuck you like this, did he princess?" Matt said, his voice laced with breathless amusement.

“You got us for that, don’t worry sweetheart.” Chris looked up at you. You offered no words, your moan against Matt’s dick was your agreement. This earned a satisfied smirk from Chris.

"I'm so- so close," Chris admitted, panting heavily. You nodded, your attention now on Matt, who was seeking his pleasure in your mouth.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" Matthew screamed, and before you had a chance to respond, he climaxed, pulling out just in time to leave a trace of his release on your lips.

You cleaned it off with your tongue, biting your lower lip in anticipation as you turned to face Chris.

"You ready to cum, angel? You're clenching so well around me, so well sweetheart."

Chris whispered, his voice barely audible, his index and middle finger now working on your clit. Your nods were incessant, your eyes pleading for release.

"You've been so good for us, baby. Letting us fuck you like this, you have no idea how long we’ve been wanting this," he confessed, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic, signaling his how close he is.

"Tell me you're on the pill, baby. Please, tell me you're on the pill." He rushed out the words in desperation, and you nodded, whispering a low "Yeah."

That was the cue he needed. His body tensed as he climaxed, his release filling you up.

"O-oh- oh, oh fuck, I'm cumming- cumming!" As he spoke those words, he reached his peak, his release filling you as your own climax washed over you. Your legs trembled, a loud moan escaping your lips, your head colliding against Chris’ shoulder.

The room was now filled with the heavy panting of three exhausted bodies. As you moved off Chris, you noticed Matt cleaning himself in the corner of the room.

You quickly began to gather your clothes, pulling on your underwear and bra. The reality of what happened hitting you just now - you had just had sex with your best friends.

As Chris moved to grab his own boxers, Matt turned to you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Got somewhere to be?" He inquired, bending down to retrieve his boxers. Chris turned to see what you were doing.

"Trying to escape the crime scene or something?" You shook your head, giggling in response.

"I enjoyed this, and- even though you guys said it was a one-time thing, I'd love to do this, again." you admitted shyly.

Their faces lit up with proud smirks. "Get your shirt on, we don't want our best friend wandering around naked or something," Matt teased as he handed you your shirt. This prompted another chuckle from you.

"Let's all get dressed and have a talk about this. Don't worry, y/n. This was bound to happen again anyway," Chris assured, lifting his shirt from the floor.

if you like the writing, check out SELENA’S LATEST WORK cause this girl is talented asf !!

MY MASTERLIST

TAG LIST: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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artjiayi · 1 day

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Jade's worst nightmare 🌊

That's definitely the most detailed illustration I've ever drawn and it also took me a while to finish it. I procrastinated because I was going out of my comfort zone and I was so scared to mess it up... but I overcame it because the lore behind this drawing meant a lot to me.

About this illustration, I wanted to focus on Jade's sensitivity through the world surrounding him, especially on land. I wanted to break the twisted picture we all have of him and show his vulnerability. I also wanted to express a duality between his sea life and life on land. His eel form is a reminder of where he originally comes from.

To me, Jade looks like an unbreakable wall: he basically smiles all the time and he always seems to hide his true emotions. Although Jade tends to do some questionable things (let’s be real), I do believe that behind that wall, there’s an unusual but very touching sensitivity.

What I adore about Jade is the fact that he doesn't fear people's opinion about his hobbies and nothing can stop him from doing them, no matter what. He has a deep connection to everything related to nature so to me, he enjoys quiet places and being alone. Therefore I strongly believe he's an introvert and needs those moments disconnected from any social interactions.

Even though Jade appreciates solitude, he also needs to connect with people from time to time. There was a sentence he said during Vargas Camp that literally broke my heart:

"I'm envious that everyone else has someone to converse with. And here I am, all alone."

To me, that proves he's actually looking for deep connections with people so that he can be himself without being judged at all. Even Floyd and Azul find his interests weird and they're pretty harsh about his club. I know the octatrio has their own dynamics but still, Jade deserves to have a buddy who shares the same hobbies as him.

Anyway, I could write so much more about Jade but that's basically how I see him. My interpretation is probably a bit biased because of the love I already have for him but whatever. Thanks to it, I was able to imagine what could be his worst fear as he always seems so untouchable at first sight. I love shady Jade but sensitive Jade is what I need right now.

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bluegiragi · 1 day

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Hi friend!! I've been following you on a couple platforms when it comes to your amazing art!! I know you've talked about ghostprice, but I saw the Price's hand on the back of Kyle's neck and was wondering if you could talk about the relationship between price and gaz? I loved the ghost price one, but I totally understand if you don't have the same write up for these two lol

!!! thank you so much for this ask, because i love thinking about this dynamic in my free time.

lots of reading under the cut!

so, because I like to cherry-pick influences from canon, in the monster au, Gaz and Price met before Gaz got drafted into the 141. Gaz was the harpy escort to a standard military op that got off-track when doing recon, and ended up wrapped up in a territorial dispute with two griffin hybrids. The whole team got stuck sandwiched between the two with neither side willing to let them move, and when Gaz tried to fly above to do some surveillance he got beaten out of the sky by both of them (they don't take kindly to interlopers interfering with griffin disputes). They had to request emergency assistance from the closest party which, by chance, happened to be Price's team.

This all happened after Price lost his wing, and on this mission he collaborated with Gaz to help get (most of) his team out safely without having to rely on his skill of flight. They both made strong impressions on each other then, with Gaz forming the first seeds of a long-term loyalty to Price. When his contract with his current station ended, he was all too happy to get poached for the 141.

Coming from a more interpersonal perspective - Gaz is a harpy, which means he's fiercely independent and bases a lot of his identity on not being reliant on anyone. Price is a dragon, which comes with a lot of pesky hoard instincts that instruct him to 'provide' for his hoard. It means that Gaz dislikes being taken care of and a strong instinctual part of Price is unhappy about that. When they're more intimate, Gaz insists on giving as much as he is getting (if not more) and is always seeking ways to contribute and prove his value to the group. Even though he might be chill by harpy standards, Gaz is still very proud and he gets flustered when forced to accept things without 'earning' it.

(also he might have a little bit of hero worship for price lingering in the recesses of his mind)

Price only having one wing and being essentially grounded also adds an extra layer to their relationship. Harpies put a lot of stock in their flying prowess, so the loss of a wing is truly a world-ending event in their culture and he's extremely uncomfortable broaching the subject with Price even though he'd be happy to talk about it if pushed. He also feels that it is his role to be Price's 'wings' now, which is a sentiment that he hasn't shared to anyone but puts a lot of pressure on himself to live up to. He doesn't think this way out of any sort of pity for Price - his captain has proved time and time again to be the kind of monster worth following - instead, this mentality is him militantly breaking himself down to how useful/valuable he can be to others.

tldr; gaz is bad at accepting care, price wants to take care of him so bad and is slowly figuring out loopholes

#their relationship together is affectionate but still sort of surface level at this point #not that price isnt trying #gaz is just very proud #askbox #pricegaz

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estapa-edwards · 2 days

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SUNSHINE - Q. HUGHES

paring: Quinn hughes x reader

word count: 1.8k

requested? yes - quinn dating an absolute ball of sunshine and just such a sweetheart and him being so grumpy but melting for her, his family falling in love with her when they meet her and seeing how much she loves quinn but how much wuinn needs her too

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

In the bustling city of Vancouver, amidst the frenetic energy of professional hockey, lived Quinn Hughes, a young defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. Known for his exceptional skill on the ice, Quinn was equally notorious for his serious demeanor off the rink. Yet, in the midst of his stoic world, there came a burst of sunshine named Y/N.

Y/N was a ball of positivity that seemed to radiate light wherever she went. Her infectious laughter and perpetual smile were like a beacon in Quinn's sometimes dimly lit world. They met by chance at a charity event organized by the Canucks, where Y/N's volunteer work caught Quinn's attention.

At first, Quinn was skeptical. He was used to the rough and tumble world of hockey, where toughness and resilience were prized above all else. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed like a delicate flower, too fragile for the harsh realities of his life. But as they spent more time together, Quinn discovered layers to Y/N that he never expected.

Y/N was not just sunshine and smiles; she had a strength of character and an unwavering spirit that Quinn found both intriguing and deeply comforting. She saw past his gruff exterior, understanding the pressures he faced as a professional athlete, and yet never once treated him like anything less than a human being.

The charity event buzzed with excitement as Quinn Hughes, clad in his sharp suit, navigated through the crowd with practiced ease. He exchanged obligatory pleasantries with fellow teammates and sponsors, his expression stoic and his demeanor guarded. Amidst the sea of faces, one stood out—a figure wrapped in an aura of warmth and kindness, her smile a beacon in the dimly lit room.

Y/N was busy at a booth, arranging pamphlets and chatting animatedly with volunteers. Quinn observed her from afar, intrigued by the genuine enthusiasm she exuded. She seemed out of place amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, like a wildflower blooming in a field of roses.

Quinn's curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself making his way toward her booth, his steps deliberate and measured. Y/N looked up as he approached, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she greeted him with a bright smile.

"Hi there! Can I interest you in learning more about our cause?" Y/N's voice was like a melody, soft yet confident, drawing Quinn in despite his initial reservations.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, unused to such genuine warmth from strangers. "What cause?" he asked, his tone gruff but tinged with curiosity.

Y/N's smile widened, undeterred by his demeanor. "We're raising funds for underprivileged children in the community, providing them with educational resources and opportunities they wouldn't otherwise have. It's a cause close to my heart," she explained, her eyes alight with passion.

Quinn studied her for a moment, his gaze searching for any hint of insincerity. But all he found was honesty and sincerity, a stark contrast to the superficiality of the world he was accustomed to. Despite himself, he felt a flicker of something—a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Tell me more," Quinn finally conceded, surprising even himself with his genuine interest.

And so, Y/N launched into an impassioned spiel about the charity's mission, her words painting a vivid picture of hope and possibility. As Quinn listened, he found himself captivated by her spirit, her unwavering belief in the power of kindness and compassion.

By the time Y/N had finished speaking, Quinn was thoroughly intrigued. He found himself drawn to her light, her optimism a stark contrast to his own cynicism. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw something he hadn't expected—a reflection of his own humanity, mirrored back to him in all its rawness and vulnerability.

Their relationship blossomed slowly, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals in the warmth of the sun. Quinn found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had with anyone else, sharing his fears and insecurities, as well as his hopes and dreams. And Y/N, in turn, showered him with love and affection, her unwavering support a balm to his weary soul.

Quinn sat in his dimly lit apartment, his hockey gear strewn across the floor like discarded remnants of a battle won or lost. He stared blankly at the wall, the weight of the day's game still heavy on his shoulders. It was a tough loss, one that left him questioning his abilities and his worth as a player.

Y/N sat beside him, her presence a comforting warmth in the otherwise cold room. She reached out and gently took his hand in hers, her touch soft and reassuring.

"It's okay, Quinn," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody in the silence. "You gave it your all out there. That's all anyone can ask for."

Quinn sighed, leaning into her touch ever so slightly. "I know, but sometimes it feels like it's not enough," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N squeezed his hand gently, her eyes full of understanding. "You're more than just a hockey player, Quinn. You're a person with hopes and dreams and fears, just like everyone else. And no matter what happens on the ice, I'll always be here for you."

Quinn looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he saw past the facade of sunshine and smiles to the strength and resilience that lay beneath. He saw in her eyes a reflection of his own struggles, his own fears, and he felt a connection—a bond—that went beyond the surface.

"I appreciate you saying that," Quinn murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "Sometimes it's hard to remember that there's more to life than just hockey."

Y/N nodded, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes. "It's okay to feel that way, Quinn. But you're not defined by what happens on the ice. You're so much more than that."

In that moment, Quinn felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, a burden shared and halved. He realized that he didn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, that it was okay to lean on someone else for support.

Leaning in closer, Quinn found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he hadn't anticipated. He could feel the warmth of her presence enveloping him like a blanket, comforting and reassuring. And as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, a feeling of home that he had never experienced before.

But it wasn't just Quinn who fell for Y/N's charms. His family, initially skeptical of anyone who dared to enter their son's guarded heart, quickly warmed to her. They saw how she brought out the best in Quinn, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

Quinn's parents, Jim and Ellen, welcomed Y/N into their home with open arms, treating her like one of their own from the moment they met her. His siblings, Jack and Luke, adored her playful nature and boundless energy, finding in her a kindred spirit who shared their love for life and all its joys.

The first time Y/N met Quinn's family was a nerve-wracking experience. She stood outside their doorstep, her heart pounding in her chest as she nervously smoothed down her dress. Quinn had assured her that his family would love her, but that didn't stop the butterflies in her stomach from fluttering anxiously.

As Quinn opened the door, Y/N was greeted by the warm smiles of his parents, Jim and Ellen. They enveloped her in a tight embrace, welcoming her into their home with open arms. From the moment they met, Y/N could see where Quinn got his kindness and warmth from; Jim's easygoing nature and Ellen's gentle demeanor instantly put her at ease.

"Welcome, Y/N! It's so wonderful to finally meet you," Ellen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

Y/N smiled nervously, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you for having me," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Quinn's siblings, Jack and Luke, bounded down the stairs, their excitement palpable as they caught sight of Y/N. They wasted no time in bombarding her with questions, eager to get to know the girl who had captured their brother's heart.

"Hi, I'm Jack!" one of them exclaimed, thrusting out his hand for Y/N to shake.

"And I'm Luke!" the other chimed in, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N laughed, charmed by their infectious energy. "It's nice to meet you both," she said, shaking their hands warmly.

The evening was filled with warmth and laughter as Quinn's family gathered around the dinner table, enjoying each other's company. Y/N sat among them, her smile radiant as she shared stories and jokes, seamlessly fitting into the dynamic of the Hughes household.

Jim and Ellen exchanged a knowing glance as they observed their son and his girlfriend. They had watched Quinn grow from a young boy with dreams of playing in the NHL to the accomplished athlete he was today. But what they hadn't anticipated was the transformative effect Y/N would have on him.

"She's really something special, isn't she?" Ellen whispered to Jim, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced at Y/N.

Jim nodded in agreement, a proud smile gracing his lips. "She certainly is. I've never seen Quinn light up the way he does when she's around."

Across the table, Jack and Luke were engaged in a lively conversation with Y/N, their laughter filling the room. They had taken to her immediately, drawn to her playful nature and genuine warmth.

"You're the best, Y/N!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration.

Luke nodded enthusiastically, echoing his brother's sentiment. "Yeah, we love having you around!"

Y/N laughed, feeling a swell of affection for Quinn's siblings. "I love being here with all of you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.

As the evening wore on, Quinn's family couldn't help but marvel at the bond he shared with Y/N. They saw how she brought out the best in him, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

But more than that, they saw how much Quinn needed her. They saw the way his eyes lit up whenever she entered the room, the way he leaned on her for support in times of doubt and uncertainty. They saw the depth of their love for each other, a love that transcended words and barriers.

And in that moment, as they sat together as a family, surrounded by love and laughter, Jim and Ellen knew that Y/N was more than just Quinn's girlfriend. She was his rock, his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his guiding light in the darkness.

And as they looked at their son, his hand intertwined with Y/N's, they knew that he was truly blessed to have her by his side

#hockey #nhl x reader #vancover canucks #canucks hockey #vancouver #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes

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wintrwinchestr · 3 days

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obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot.

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night.

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest.

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him.

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal.

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs.

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

“No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him.

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock.

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?”

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat.

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment.

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer.

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought.

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it.

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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