#but then this happens and i don’t really feel like that for a big

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

[brenwritesss]

Tru Fru part 3

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You see Paige after the livestream happened and the two of you get closer.

(Semi-sexual content ahead.)

It had been a couple weeks since you had gone to Paige’s place and the livestream happened. Since then, it had been awkward between you and Paige, considering you didn’t really know each other and now you were trending on social media. Paige had texted you multiple times, apologizing and you had to reassure her that it was okay. At first, you didn’t see it as a big deal since no one really saw your face. However, you didn’t really understand just how popular she was until you started seeing edits starting with an intro of the video of you and Paige on her bed. 

Paige and you really haven’t hung out since then, her being busy with basketball and traveling while you were trying to finish all your studies.

Currently, you were in your room trying to finish an assignment for one of your classes when a text notification popped up on your phone beside you. It was from Paige.

Yo can I come over?

Immediately texting back, you replied with a “sure” along with your dorm number. This is the first time she would ever be over at your dorm and you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

You took the time to clean up your room a little, putting away your homework and picking up any dishes or cups that were in your room.

A knock disrupted you. Walking over to the door, you let out a breath and opened it. “Hey,” Paige said, looking at you with her hands in her back pocket. She was wearing a UConn jacket and sweatpants.

“Hey,” you replied. “Come in.” You moved out of the way so that she could come in. Paige walked in and you shut the door.

“I know I keep apologizing but I’m so sorry for the whole livestream situation.”

You let out a small laugh and led Paige into your room. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s all good. It’s not like they know who I am. If anything, I’m sorry that it’s trending and you have to deal with this sort of stuff.”

Paige felt relieved in your response, as if weight was lifted off her shoulders. She sat down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals near your pillow and fiddled with it. “It’s actually really refreshing to hear you say that.”

“Really?” You sat down beside her.

Paige looked at you, her clear-framed glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was in a low bun and she had on a beanie. All you wanted to do was lean over and kiss her, but you had to restrain yourself. “Yeah,” she said, “a lot of people don’t really think about how this kind of stuff affects us.”

You rubbed your hands on your thighs. “Well people should. I mean I get y’all are supposed to be like celebrities but you’re still human.”

Paige smiled at you, her eyes squinting in response. You thought the “eye-smile” she did was the cutest thing ever. It made you want to melt on the spot. Damn, you were starting to fall for her. “Thank you for saying that.”

It seemed like a long moment of just staring into each other’s eyes. When you and Paige had hung out in her room, moments like this had happened but this was different. Like the two of you were actually seeing each other for the first time. The sexual tension between the two of you had changed into something more emotional. And it intrigued you, making you want more. It made her want more too. However, it was a little overwhelming as this hasn’t happened to you in a while.

Paige’s eyes didn’t leave yours as she very slowly started to lean in, her face inching closer towards yours. A sudden bolt of fear shot through you and you turned your head away, making Paige look at you confused. You began saying, “so, how’s basketball been go-”

“Y/n.” Paige’s voice cut you off. Hearing your name coming from her mouth sent shivers down your spine.

You didn’t look at her. “Yeah?”

“Look at me,” she spoke softly, her fingers coming up to your chin as she gently turned your head allowing you to both make eye contact again. She let go of your chin, leaving behind cold marks that made you long to feel her touch. “I feel things for you.”

“What kind of things?” you asked.

She slowly laced her fingers with yours, smiling. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful and I like the way we talk to each other. And when the live happened, I felt so bad, you have no idea. All I wanted to do was apologize to you. I realized that I want to get to know you more and that I like you.”

“You like me?”

“If it isn’t obvious already.”

“I feel the same way. You have this energy that draws me to you.” You held onto her hand and you could feel her leaning closer to you.

There was a small moment of silence before she spoke, “can I,” she started, “can I try something and you won’t freak out?”

“Depends.”

Paige chuckled. “Just trust me.”

You didn’t say anything as you waited for Paige to do something. She took your silence as permission to lean forward, lifting one of her hands up to your cheek. As she pulled your face toward hers, you felt fear but also excitement, as you had wanted to kiss her for a while but never had the courage to.

Paige closed the distance between the two of you as it started off slow, the both of you moving in sync. Something ignited in Paige that made her pick up the pace, her hand dropping from your face to your waist and pulling you closer to her body. The sudden movement resulted in a small groan from you which made Paige’s heart beat faster and her mind start racing. 

As the pace quickened, you grabbed her face, pulling yourself up from your seated position and straddled her lap. “Fuck,” Paige spoke against your lips, her hands running up and down your waist, sending shivers throughout your body as if her touch was electric.

“Paige,” you whispered softly into her and moved your mouth from hers to her neck, eliciting a small moan from her lips.

“Say,” she tried speaking in between moans. “Say my name again, princess.”

She could feel you smiling against her neck as you muttered, “Paige.”

“Holy fuck,” she breathes out. “Hearing you say my name is so hot.”

“Yeah?” You pull yourself away from her neck, taking a moment to admire the small marks you made along her neck.

Paige’s hands found themselves under your shirt, caressing the skin underneath. You melted into her touch. “I think this needs to be off,” she said, tugging at the fabric.

You pulled off her beanie that she was still wearing, throwing it to the side of your bed and then unzipping her jacket. She watched your every move, biting her lip as she admired you. “Only if this comes off.”

“Deal.” She let you take off her jacket which resulted in her pulling your shirt off, leaving her in a t-shirt and you in your bra. You both pulled each other closer at the same time, lips finding the other’s as you moaned into her mouth.

This time, she pulled away from you and found your neck. She sucked and softly bit down on your skin, leaving patches of red along your neck as she moved down towards your chest.

She flipped you onto your back, kissing up and down your chest and stomach, creating the softest sounds from you. “Paige, please.”

She looked up at you. “Please what, baby?”

You huffed, trying to find your voice. “I need you.”

“Where do you want me? Show me.” You grabbed her hands, guiding them down to your shorts, putting her fingers on the zipper. She unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts and pulled them off your body, taking in the sight before her. You suddenly felt self-conscious in her gaze but the way she let her hands slide up and down your thighs made you realize that you had nothing to worry about. 

Paige slid her fingers up your inner thighs and found themselves at your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already, aren’t you?”

You shuddered at her touch, rolling your eyes back. “Paige, don’t make me wait.”

Paige smirked, moving her thumb in a slow circle, making you throw your head back. “Tell me how much you want me,” she said, her voice so deep it made the tension between you two thicker.

“I want-”

Paige’s phone went off, a call coming through. You sighed, frustration replacing that needy feeling you were embracing. Paige noticeably angry, took her fingers away from you and picked up her phone. “Fucking hell.”

You missed her touch and all you could think about was her fingers back on you, and the way she held your body. The way her hands fit your body. Paige answered the phone, “What do you need? I’m busy right now.”

“What do you mean we have practice right now?”

“Fuck, okay. Shit, why is he pissed?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there just give me a minute.”

She ended the phone and looked at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. Coach is pissed for some reason and we had a practice that I forgot about so I have to go.”

You nodded, clearly frustrated while putting your shirt back on. “It’s fine. You’re all good.”

She moved toward you, kissing your forehead before grabbing her jacket. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You looked up at her. “Yeah, you better.”

She chuckled, grabbing your chin gently and kissing you. “You’re doing something to me, Y/n.”

[empress-simps]

Poly!marauders x readers where maybe they are roommates and love the reader and being touchy and caring but the reader just thinks they are affectionate with all their friends?

Thanks for the request darling! I am more than happy to oblige. Thank you for patiently waiting too since it did take a while to publish it (ugh school am I right?) I tweaked it a bit, hope you don’t mindd : ) Really wanted to publish this before my birthday (which is tomorrow) as a little treat to myself and to you guys. I hope you enjoy!

Special Treatment?

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader

CW: None that I could think of?? except for possible typos and grammatical errors. (1.3k words)

You often found asking yourself one-too-many-times if the boys’ affection to you were just purely platonic or romantic.

Maybe you were just being dramatic— giving meaning to meaningless stuff they do for you.

It's probably you, yeah. You and your delusional arse, really. Why would they want you in the mix when the three of them are already dating?

Although— you just can't help but feel special when Remus makes you his famous “Moony toast” as he likes to call it, or when Sirius calls you 'his doll' and slings his arm over your shoulder which results in your stomach doing flips, and let’s not forget how James would flash his mega-watt smile, setting your breakfast down and making sure you know that he's the one who cooked it for you.

With the help of Remus, of course— your flat would turn into ashes if you let James cook alone in the kitchen.

Being roommates with three dudes is certainly uncommon but fun. Telling people about it… well, makes them shoot you questioning looks or are concerned that you’re being held hostage by three big burly men.

You really weren’t sure how it happened— the four of you just fitted together seamlessly, similar to cogs of a well-oiled machine.

It began during the last three months of your 7th year in Hogwarts, you decided to start looking for flats to rent, preferably in close to London. You wanted to live where muggles are, having such keen interest about them and their daily lives, deciding to pursue a muggle career also helped you in your decision.

You tried searching if there's any available flats to rent and how much it’ll cost. However, seeing that you're a broke student, you really couldn't afford any sky-high prices for rent.

It seemed like all hope was lost until you asked one of your friends, Lily, if she knows anyone looking for a flat mate.

You were sure she was an angel sent here on Earth, after a few days she told you that Remus, James, and Sirius have no problems taking you in, seeing that you guys are housemates during their years in Hogwarts.

The rest was history.

They made sure you wouldn’t feel left out. It was how they looked out for you, the way they included you in every plan, every joke, every moment of their lives.

Although, as the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months you start to notice the little things they do.

"Hey doll, have any movies tickled your fancy yet?" Sirius asks, sneaking his arm around your waist, leaning close to your face.

"Erm, no not really... You guys could pick, I'd be fine with anything." You smiled at him, before fleeing to the kitchen to calm your racing heart.

"You're just friends with them, Y/n. I'm sure they do this with Lily and the others..." you let out a mumble, absentmindedly grabbing a glass of water before bumping into someone.

"Whoa, are you okay, darling?" Remus' worried voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he cupped your face before placing the back of his hand on your forehead.

"I'm alright!" You squeaked; Remus' doesn't really look to convinced. "Are you sure, darling? You look rather flushed... I told you to bring your jacket yesterday when you went out. You probably caught a cold." He frowned, you tried to protest but your attempt was futile as he shimmied off his cardigan and made you wear it. "I'll make you some lemon water, alright darling?" James called out from the living room, "We're starting the movie without you guys!"

Remus yelled out, boiling some warm water. "Hold your bloody horses, prongs! I'm making some lemon water." You heard a shuffling of feet nearing you, making you look up.

"Love, don't tell me you're sick." He frowns, and like what Remus did earlier, he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. "I'm not sick." You protested, but it all fell on deaf ears.

Next time you told them you went out, you were practically dressed for winter even though it's only spring.

Those little things made you honestly take a step back and re-asses your situation with them because for merlin's sake, why do they act like your boyfriends when you're just friends with them, right? You couldn't really open it up to Lily because you'd probably sound stupid if this was just normal for them.

Your mind ran with hundreds of what if's and the way Remus' eyes linger on you for a second too long, with an emotion you can't quite decipher doesn't help soothe the thoughts in your mind. The warmth of Sirius' touch, James and oh merlin, when the three of them kissed you on the cheeks during a movie night? You really couldn't live in denial anymore.

You're no detective but the signs are there, clear as day. There's a high chance they're not just being friendly—they care, deeply. And maybe, just maybe, you do too.

Having read enough romance novels, you quickly recognized the pattern, but this isn't fiction. This is real life, and these are your roommates—three guys who have somehow, inexplicably, fallen for the same person. You.

Sitting in loveseat while nursing a cup of tea, you couldn’t help but notice the way the morning light caught in Sirius’s hair, giving him a halo that seemed so at odds with his mischievous smirk. “Morning, doll,” he greeted, his voice a smooth baritone that sent shivers throughout your system. Does this man haven't ever heard of morning voice?

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “Slept well?”

“Like a log,” he said, eyes softening before squeezing himself beside you. “Did you? You were up late reading with Moony.”

You nodded, the feeling the warmth within your chest surfacing because of the memory. Remus usually reads his novel alongside you, it's sort of yours and his thing. Although you sometimes found yourself getting distracted and instead of focusing on the book, you were drawn to the gentle timbre of his voice and the way his hand occasionally brushed yours as he pointed something out on the page he was reading.

And then there was James, who was currently flipping pancakes with a concentration that was both endearing and amusing. He caught your eye and grinned, the same smile that had greeted you every morning since you’d moved in. “These are going to be the best pancakes you’ve ever tasted,” he declared. “Guaranteed to improve your day by at least twenty percent.”

You laughed, the sound mingling with the sizzling of the batter. “I’ll hold you to that.”

A bedroom creaked open, and Remus shuffled out, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Is that breakfast I smell?” he mumbled, heading to the kitchen "Yeah, go help prongsie, moons. It's a miracle he hasn't started a fire yet." Sirius teased, it made Remus more awake and practically ran to supervise James.

After a few moments, the four of you were digging into the half-burnt pancakes that James was proud of, a mishmash of pajamas and bed hair (except for Sirius), and yet it felt right. It felt like family. As you ate, you found yourself observing them, the way they interacted with each other, and with you. There was a harmony; a rhythm that you had become a part of without even realizing it.

It was in the little things: the way Remus passed you the syrup without you having to ask, or the sound of Sirius’ laughter seemed to wrap around you like a warm blanket. And James? Well, he was the glue that held it all together, his energy infectious and his presence a constant source of comfort for all of you.

You realized; it didn’t matter what other people thought. They don't see what you saw, feel what you've felt. They don’t understand that this was more than just a shared living space; it was a shared life. And maybe, just maybe, it was okay to give meaning to the ‘meaningless stuff’ because, to you, it meant everything.

And as you looked around at the three men who had become your world, you knew that this was normal. Your normal. And it was perfect.

[4unnyr0se]

PLEASEEEE MATCHING WITH CAPTAINS ON TINDER WITH USHI AND KITA PLEASEEE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 🙁 FROM ONE AUTISTIC TO ANOTHER I AM BEGGING YOU

❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | wakatoshi ushijima and shinsuke kita

warnings: timeskip! ushijima and kita, fem! reader size kink, protected sex, hayloft sex, unprotected sex, biting, marking, virgin! ushijima, soft dom! kita, spanking, rough sex, tendou mentioned, kind of dom reader for ushijima

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

Wakatoshi Ushijima | Loosing his virginity

Ushijima wasn’t a stranger to people talking about their sex lives around him. His face was so stoic and statuesque that no one could tell if he was uncomfortable listening to the subject. The topics spoken in his vicinity ranged from how big a woman’s breasts were to how someone lost their virginity. He had to admit, he was a bit more awkward around those conversations because he couldn’t relate. He was a 26-year-old virgin, while his teammates and rivals had no doubt lost their virginity years prior. Some people even lost their virginity in high school. How scandalous!

He had contacted Tendou, his closest friend from Shirtatorizawa, to hopefully give him advice on the subject. Tendou was shocked at first (and found this entire situation to be completely hilarious) but offered his advice anyway. He told Ushijima that losing your virginity doesn’t have to be a big deal, that it doesn’t have to be romantic or special. It’s just something that happens, and everyone is different. Tendou also recommended downloading Tinder, which is a very useful resource. “If you want sex with no strings attached, look no further.” his words rang in Ushijima’s ears, his thumb hovering directly over your profile. You seemed like a good match for him, but he didn’t really know what he wanted yet. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he slid right on your profile and was surprised when you matched with him. He had very clearly stated that he was a virgin in his biography (Why would he not? It was accurate), so that kind of deterred people from matching with him. You messaged him instantly, suggesting he visit your apartment sometime this week. Of course, he accepted; that was the whole reason why he was on that app. He had one concern, however. Ushijima was massive, bigger than any other man by a wide margin. Could you handle him?

“Shh,” gentle sounds left your lips as you covered your dripping core above Ushijima’s length, observing how it was practically twitching with want for you. “We don’t have to rush things, okay? I know it’s your first time, baby,” you kissed the side of his cheek tenderly, your nails dragging themselves up and down his muscular chest. “Just let me make you feel good.”

He could only nod as your lips touched his once more, biting on his swelling bottom lip playfully. His hands rested on your hips, kneading the flesh between his calloused fingers. His usual stoic face was flushed, lipstick marks adorning his chapped lips and thick neck. He impatiently squeezed your hips, not daring to open his mouth just yet. 

“Oh? Are you ready now, ‘Toshi?” you purred, breaking the kiss to lower yourself down even further. “You have to tell me if you want this, baby. Or else I won’t do it.”

“P-please,” Ushijima mumbled, his eyes staring intensely into yours. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to feel you. He needed to know if the stories his teammates told him were true and if it felt like euphoria once he was inside you. Without giving you any warning, he thrust his hips upwards, pushing his pulsating shaft inside your sobbing core. “Sorry, couldn’t wait any longer. Fuck.”

“Shit!” you cried out, balancing yourself on his broad shoulders. “Y-you’re really fucking big. G-gimme a second, okay?” your breath was quick and shallow, your walls wrapping so perfectly around his huge cock. Was he really a virgin? There was no way in hell someone with that big of a dick was a virgin. After regaining your composure, your hips began to move up and down on his length, a wanton mewl escaping your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive place. 

“Go faster,” Ushijima demanded, gripping harder onto your hips. He wanted to take charge but had no experience in this department. What if he messed up? What if he hurt you? His left hand was the size of your entire ass, you were so fragile compared to him. “Wanna feel more of you.” He cracked his palm against your ass softly, massaging the stinging flesh soon afterward. 

You nodded, burying your blushing face in his neck. Your bruised lips peppered soft kisses on his skin as you continued to bounce up and down on his gigantic cock, his head brushing against your cervix so deliciously. All that could be heard in your apartment was the sensual sound of R&B music, your wanton cries of pleasure, and Ushijima’s occasional grunt or deep moan. He wasn’t very vocal, but he was close; he could feel his cock twitching inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your gummy walls, attempting to milk him for all he was worth. “I’m, fuck, I’m gonna cum soon. Feels fucking incredible.”

“D-d’ya wanna cum inside o-or on my tits?” you whimpered, feeling your own climax quickly approaching. He was just so fucking big, and his voice was so deep. Each word he spoke made your clit throb even harder. “P-please ‘Toshi!”

“Inside,” he demanded, bolding, leaning up to kiss you once more. The kiss was molten, full of fire and passion that he had so long oppressed. He groaned in your mouth as he felt you let go of your cock, feeling your body convulse around him. The sounds of your pathetic and fucked out mewls drove him over the edge, his cum painting the walls of your womb white. 

You broke the kiss and smiled at him, pulling yourself off of his cock with a pop! Ushijima groaned at the sight of his seed trickling down your thighs so beautifully, looking like a Renaissance painting. Was this the sensation his teammates were talking about earlier, was it this kind of beauty? 

“Was that a good first time?” you asked, snapping him out of his wandering thoughts. He nodded and got off the bed, dressing himself quickly. “Yes, I liked it. Thanks.” The faintest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes not daring to meet yours. He knew that if he looked into your pretty eyes again, he would be included to stay, and he couldn’t risk getting distracted from volleyball. 

“You have my number if you ever want to, y’know, fuck again. You were really good for a virgin.” Was that a compliment or an insult? Ushijima couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, he didn’t take it personally. He turned towards you, still not making eye contact. Fuck, you were so damn pretty. Was missing his practice tomorrow really worth it? Did he want to have you in his arms that badly? 

“Maybe I’ll give you a call some other time.”

Shinsuke Kita | The florist

Kita loved the local farmers market. It was where he could sell his rice without worrying about the middleman. It was peaceful, seeing the mothers bring their children and pets. Seeing couples holding hands as they checked out the local food and drink vendors. This weekend, Kita wasn’t at his usual booth. He chose to browse instead, having turned an acceptable profit this month. There were stands that he had seen a million times before and one that was brand new. Fresh, the paint is not yet chipped off by children carelessly running into it. And it smelled beautiful, but that was no surprise. After all, it was a florist's booth.

He saw no one running the stand currently, maybe they were on break. Kita shrugged and took out his phone, opening Tinder to mindlessly swipe through it. It wasn’t an ideal pastime, but it beat standing around waiting for the floral stall owner to show up. 

You greeted him with a rushed hello, an embarrassed blush tinting your cheeks as you apologized for being away from the stand for so long. Before Kita could respond, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Opening the notification, you saw none other but the profile of the man standing before you, looking incredibly attractive. 

“You matched with me,” you blushed, holding your phone for Kita to see. He smiled softly, thinking it was adorable how you could barely make eye contact with him. 

“It appears I have.”

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, princess,” Kita purred against your lips, thrusting into you so gently Like you would break like you were made of glass. “Think you can take more of me, darling? I’m barely halfway inside that pretty pussy.”

Fuck, his voice made you squeeze around him even harder. Here you were, laying under him in a hayloft with your hands clawing desperately at his muscular back whilst he thrust inside of you so slowly, painfully slow. Was he trying to be a tease? Was making you squirm his kink? “J-just fuck me already! Don’t tease. It’s mean!” you whimpered in frustration, attempting to angle your hips in such a way that you could feel Kita deeper inside of your core. 

“I’m not trying to be mean, sweetness,” he chuckled against your lips, pecking them softly. They tasted like vanilla and roses, a pure scent that did not fit you being defiled in a hayloft. “Just don’t wanna be too rough with you, that’s all.” he squeezed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with just one of his hands. “But if a pretty girl like you wants me to go rough, I guess I have no choice.”

The atmosphere changed instantly as Kita slammed himself into you at full force, his length pistoning in and out of your sobbing core. Your pathetic and adorable sobs of pleasure filled the hayloft, the occasional beg and plead thrown in as Kita destroyed your insides with his cock. He was holding back, not wanting to break any barriers you had set up. But when you beg him in that angelic voice to fuck you, who is he to refuse a darling such as yourself?

“Is this any better, sweetheart?” Kita groaned against your neck, trailing kisses down the already bruised flesh until he reached that sweet spot just above your collarbone. His teeth just grazed the skin as he continued to practically slam into you, shaking the sensitive wood of the hayloft with each powerful thrust inside your drenched core. “Do you like it when I fuck you like this instead, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck, Kita! M’close, holy fuck! I’m so fucking close, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder, your nails leaving angry crescent imprints on his back in accompaniment with the array of feral red scratches. “Please, please, please! Lemme cum!”

Kita moaned at your desperate words, the cadence of your voice making his dick twitch deep inside of you. He was close to his climax as well, your mewls of pleasure making the sensations he was feeling all the more delicious. “Yeah, you wanna cum pretty girl? It’s okay, cum on my fucking cock. Fucking make a mess all over me.” he bit down harshly onto your collarbone, punctuating every other sentence fragment with a powerful thrust into your weeping cunt. He felt your gummy walls attempting to pull him impossibly deeper, your orgasm approaching incredibly fast.

Finally, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of complete euphoria. You sobbed as your release coated his cock, almost sending Kita over the edge in tandem. Quickly, Kita pulled out of your throbbing core and frantically fisted his cock, quietly roaring as his hot and sticky ropes of white painted your stomach so beautifully. He stood above you for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were from his point of view. Shaking from your orgasm, covered in his mess. You looked so fucking perfect.

“That was incredible,” Kita smiled at you, sitting beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the teeth marks he had left earlier. “Do you feel good, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, gentle, and kind. He wanted to ensure you knew you would be cared for, even though you both accomplished what you wanted. 

“I feel amazing, thank you.” you smiled, resting your face on his exposed shoulder. Your eyes landed on the scratches and marks you left on his back, fingers tracing over them tenderly. “Uh, sorry about all of this. I’m not usually this rough.”

Kita kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer to his form, caging you in his muscular arms whilst he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 

“You have nothing to worry about, pretty girl.”

okay this ask was literally so sweet i love u nonnie

[hqbaby]

eighteen — just wanted you know to know

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.4k content. profanity, everyone’s bad with feelings

Satoru was having a lovely day. Although “lovely” would be a relative term considering the fact that finals season has descended upon the general student population and he is one of its many victims. Still, he woke up on the right side of the bed, he managed to find some clean clothes, and the barista at the coffee shop down the road wasn’t as mean to him as he usually is.

Overall, his day had gone fairly well. As he walked over to the library, he didn’t dread finishing the mountain of papers he had to write or the problem sets he had to review. He even texted Suguru to come join him in his study session so that they could compare notes—something he usually steers clear from because the man always distracts him.

Overall, Satoru was having a lovely day.

Until that asshole showed up.

There he goes, with his usual lazy smirk, walking over to a table with his friend. They’re chatting—about something shitty, Satoru suspects—and laying their books out on the surface, pulling laptops and notes out of their bags. Satoru wonders what would happen if he just walked over, grabbed the guy and—

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Satoru looks down at his hand where a pencil has already snapped in half. You should really just get a mechanical one, your voice echoes in the back of his mind, the hint of a laugh bubbling beneath your words.

“Satoru.”

He looks up.

Shoko.

“Hey,” he says, flashing her that grin of his. As if he wasn’t just trying to stare your boyfriend to death. “What’s up? Wanna join me?”

The girl rolls her eyes, obviously seeing through his nonsense. “Why are you looking at that guy?” she asks, glancing over at the table where Sukuna is gesturing frantically as he explains something to Choso. “You into him or something?”

Satoru scowls. “That guy is dirt,” he says. “Worse than dirt actually. He’s the scourge of the earth.”

Shoko watches him with an amused look as he directs his attention at Sukuna, sending daggers at the guy that he obviously can’t feel at all. She’s known Satoru for a while, since they were freshmen. He’s usually the kind of guy who tries to be nice to everyone. He calls it being a nice person. She calls it being a people-pleaser.

She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look at anyone the way he looks at Sukuna. He usually hides his disdain until the other person is out of his general vicinity. So this, him looking at the poor guy like he wants his whole family dead, is both ridiculous and completely strange.

“What did he do?” she asks, sitting down at the table. She takes a sip of her coffee as Satoru wills himself to rip his gaze away from Sukuna. When she realizes it might take a while, she busies herself by digging through her bag to grab the things she needs to study. “Did he steal your girlfriend or something?”

The silence that her question meets leaves Shoko curious, glancing up at Satoru as he turns away looking a little defeated.

“Oh shit,” she says. “Really? That’s why you broke up?”

“No,” Satoru tells her. He groans, slumping onto the table. “I don’t know, okay? All I know is that one moment she’s breaking up with me, the next she’s with that guy.”

Shoko looks back at Sukuna, waiting until she finally recognizes the man. Her eyes widen. She didn’t know who he was before, but now she definitely does.

“That’s the best friend!” she whispers to Satoru like it’s some big secret. “He’s the one you told us about!”

Satoru sticks his tongue out. “Yeah. Duh.”

She swats his shoulder. “Don’t be a fucking brat,” she says. “I can’t believe she jumped ship like that. What a bitch.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Well, I’m a bitch, so I know when someone else is being a bitch.”

“Shoko.”

She raises her hands in apology. “Fine, fine. Sorry,” she says. She takes one more look at Sukuna then sighs. “You know, at least you’re free of all that now. You and Kimi seem great.”

That seems to cheer him up.

“We do, don’t we?” he says, beaming. “She’s just the best, you know. Lights up every room she walks into.”

Shoko curses herself as Satoru launches into a whole spiel about how great and wonderful Kimi is. She knows that she brought this on, she knows that the best way to distract her friend from his melancholy thoughts of you is to get him to talk about his new girlfriend, but fuck does it make him annoying.

“She does this little thing when we kiss, where she takes her hand and she—”

“Holy shit, please stop!” Shoko says. “I don’t wanna know about that!”

Satoru smirks. He knows just how much this annoys Shoko. It’s half the fun.

“She grabs my butt.”

He gets a well-earned smack on the arm.

“Hey, why are you starting the violence without me?” Suguru slides into the chair beside Satoru, beaming at Shoko as she glares at him. “What did he do?”

“He was being annoying,” she tells him, slouching in her seat. “I brought up his girlfriend once and off he goes on a whole tangent. ‘Oh, Shoko, you should see her eyes! You should smell her hair!’”

Satoru shrugs. “Not my fault you’re painfully single.”

“I’m pre-med, I don’t have the time,” she says like she always does. “I’d also like to point out that you fall in love way too easily. It’s gross.”

“I do not!” he gasps. “I’m very careful with my heart, you know.”

“Nah, I have to agree with Shoko on this,” Suguru chimes in, oh-so-helpfully

“You have to agree? You don’t have to do anything!”

He pats Satoru on the back. “Why don’t we just study like you said we would?” he says. “Take your mind off your fickle heart.”

“I’m gonna throw you into a dumpster,” Satoru says, glaring.

“After my finals, buddy. After my finals.”

It takes a while, but they do manage to get Satoru back on track and start working on his papers.

At a table a few feet away from them, Sukuna is trying to focus too. And failing miserably of course.

“Shut up,” Choso says without even looking up from his laptop.

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“But you were going to.”

Choso sighs. “Dude, I swear I’m gonna leave if you don’t let me focus.”

Sukuna pouts, trying his best to put on the best whole “woe is me” performance of his life. “But I have something really important to ask.”

“I have something really important to study for.”

 “You don’t want me to fail, do you?” Sukuna asks. “If I don’t get this off my chest, I may just flunk out of here.”

“Okay,” Choso nods. He waves at Sukuna. “Bye, dude. It was nice having you here.”

“Choso!”

“Seriously, man! We can talk all you want after we die from our exams, okay?”

“Fine,” Sukuna says, clearly not fine at all. He gets up and grabs his belt bag. “I’m gonna go take a smoke.”

Choso raises his brow. “I thought you quit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m stressed,” is all Sukuna says before he marches out of the library, completely unaware of the fact that he’s just walked past your ex-boyfriend who has not only noticed him but decided—against his friend’s wishes—to follow him outside.

Technically, no one is allowed to smoke around these parts of campus. But technicalities haven’t seemed to stop the group of distressed students camped out behind the library, heads in their hands as they all ignore each other and take their misery out on the ozone layer.

Sukuna leans against the brick wall, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his bag. He’s just about to light it when someone scoffs at him. Now what piece of shit would do that?

“She hates those, you know.”

Oh, that piece of shit. Of course.

“What do you want?” Sukuna says, his voice as cold as steel as he meets Satoru’s eye. He lets the cigarette dangle from his fingers. Yeah, you wouldn’t like this at all. “Come to beat me up? Your little girlfriend not around to stop you?”

Satoru doesn’t budge, just continues to stare him down. “Have you told her?”

“Told her what?” your boyfriend spits. “That you’re a creep who can’t seem to get out of his ex’s life?”

“If you don’t, I will,” Satoru tells him. He runs a hand through his hair and crosses his arms over his chest. What is he doing? He knows that Sukuna’s right. That he should just let you live your life. Make the mistakes you want to make. It’s not like you didn’t cause them.

But he can’t do that. He could never do that to you.

“Listen, I don’t know why she chose you,” he says, the venom dripping from his tongue. “But the least you can do is not treat her like shit.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. He lets the cigarette drop to the ground. “How do you know how I treat her?” he asks. “This is getting pathetic, man. You have a girlfriend, don’t you? Why don’t you just move on like any other sane person would.”

“You fucking ass—”

“She doesn’t want you,” Sukuna whispers. His voice is low and threatening. Any other man would be scared shitless.

But not Satoru.

His lips curl into a smirk. All smug and cold and heartless. “She misses me, you know?”

Sukuna sneers. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that? Your fucking delusion brain?”

“No. She did,” Satoru says simply. “I ran into her a few weeks back and she told me.”

“Oh, please.” Sukuna tries to maintain the stoic facade he’s put up, but that bugs him. Did you really tell him that? Why? “You’re insane.”

He pushes past your ex and heads back into the library.

When he plops back into his chair, Choso shoots him a confused look, but he just ignores it, turning back to his notes. He tries his best to read through his scribbles about something, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to you.

He knows he should tell you about the party. It’s not like the two of you were actually together yet, and you did tell him you didn’t mind if he kept fucking seeing other girls. You’re not vindictive. You’d be just fine with it—all he has to do is tell you.

He reaches for his phone and stops short of calling you.

You wouldn’t care. You would be fine. The two of you would be fine.

But would you? Things between you are so new. So fragile. You’ve barely just crossed the line between friends and an actual proper adult relationship. Everything is still hanging in the balance. Sukuna knows that one wrong move could wreck it all. He just doesn’t know what that move is.

And then there’s Satoru.

“She misses me, you know?”

What would possess that man to say something like that, Sukuna will never know. Maybe he’s just jealous. Maybe he’s just trying to get in Sukuna’s head. Maybe he just wants to mess with your relationship so that you come running back to him.

But maybe he’s right.

You wake to the feeling of your phone buzzing somewhere on the floor of your living room. It’s the middle of the day, but you, Maki, and Nobara have managed to pass out in the middle of your studying. Figures. If you had the choice between sleep and school, you definitely know what the three of you would pick.

You lift your head and pat the space around you until it finds your phone. Your eyebrows furrow when you see the contact name on the screen. You answer.

“‘Kuna?” you say, voice a little hoarse from sleep. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” he answers immediately. “I just wanted—were you sleeping?”

You chuckle, placing a hand on your forehead as you rest your head back on the floor. “Yeah, we needed a break,” you tell him. “Why are you calling?”

The other line is silent for a moment. You can already picture the way he looks right now, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip as he considers his words carefully.

“Sukuna, what is it?”

You hear him exhale. “Nothing,” he tells you. “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you.”

“We saw each other yesterday,” you say teasingly. You wish you could leave the conversation there, but you know there must be some other reason why he’s decided to call you out of nowhere. You know Sukuna. You know that there’s something going on. “What did you really call me about though?”

“Nothing,” he says again. You can tell that he knows he’s not convincing you. “I just thought… you remember when we snuck into that reservoir?”

You groan at the memory. The two of you were stupid back then, trying to escape the realities that you lived in. But you have to admit it was fun.

“Of course I do,” you tell him. “You called me just to remind me of that?”

He laughs, the memory apparently just as fun for him as it was for you. “That was when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You frown. “Sukuna, what are you talking about?”

You hear him sigh. Hear him ruffle something. Probably his hair. “That’s when I knew that I loved you,” he tells you softly.

You nearly drop the phone. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to say it,” he says. “I just thought you should know.”

Now, it’s your turn to be all jumpy. This is just like Sukuna to drop something on you like that. To drop the fact that he loves you, just like that. The fact that he’s apparently loved you for a while now.

“I love you too.”

The words hang in the air for a while. You’ve told him you loved him before, but that was always different. Always spoken beneath the cover of your friendship. Never something that meant anything important.

But is it really different this time?

You try to keep the thought out of your mind.

“‘Kuna? You there?”

“I’m here.”

You clear your throat. “Is that really why you called?”

“Yeah…” he says. “I just—yeah. I just wanted you to know that I love you.”

notes. me while writing this: *just sweats profusely*

[aerinaga]

can I request a Paige x jealous one year younger reader

wow, okay.

paige bueckers x jealous one year younger!reader

warnings: none

synopsis: paige and her colleagues are working on a project together. one girl, specifically kate, is being too close to paige.

you and paige have been dating for a while now, everything is going well. its just that you’re a year younger than her, meaning that you’re not on the same level in college. there have been ups and downs with communication, but its been going well for a while.

you were currently with ice and kk, hanging out together in the dorm while you wait for paige.

paige was currently in the study hall with her groupmates for a project, she’s been there working for 2 hours already.

the three of you were talking about the team, especially with the new freshmen and transferees in the season.

you noticed that its been a few hours since you heard from paige, you told kk and ice that you’d go see paige in the study hall. kk and ice were both protective of you, disagreeing that you would go alone.

the moment you arrive there, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed? jealous? upset?

paige was laughing around, smiling, and feeling giggly with her groupmate, kate.

you never really knew kate, except for the fact that she’s a bitchy flirt. everytime she saw you and paige, she would greet paige with such a big smile. and as for you, she’d just give you a small smile.

even kk and ice were irritated, they knew about kate and her asshead moves. they knew that you hated her guts.

the three of you were a few meters away from their table, one of their groupmates noticed. paige looked back to see the three of you with a smile full of sarcasm.

kk started clapping, earning questionable looks from the group.

“wow, okay paige.” you tell her, sparing her nothing and leaving with ice and kk.

you all decided to go for a chick-fil-a run, after being so fueled up by the view earlier.

“man, what was that? ain’t cool at all bro.”

“paige didn’t even do anything, thats just not funny.”

ice and kk grumbles around about what they saw, and you knew they were mad. it’s not funny if they’re pissed.

“i understand the fact that i’m not aware of what goes around in the senior community, but seriously dude? paige knows i don’t like her.”

all of you arrive back at the dorm, and the first face you guys see is paige’s face. kk gives her a disapproving look, ice lays a hand on paige’s shoulder, telling her to “man up.” before they go to their own rooms.

before paige even speaks, you tell her first.

“look, i understand that i’m not on the same year level as you. we have different communities, but seriously paige? you KNOW that i don’t like her. i get that you’re groupmates but really dude? do you have to entertain her every second? did you even get any work done?”

paige stays silent, a look of guilt on her face.

“i know that you don’t like her, i do my best not to get entertained by her, but i don’t want people to speculate. i don’t want any issues going around, you know i hate that.”

you don’t say anything to her, you left their dorm, going to your apartment.

you didn’t wanna see her right now, especially when thats all she responded with.

its 9pm now, you were in bed, scrolling through tiktok. you heard your door open, wondering who it was. your mom, paige, and ice had the keys to your door. you got up, went to the living room to be greeted with paige. paige had a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

you can’t deny, she looked hot. a low messy bun suits her so much (i’m a sucker for that).

“oh hi. why are you here? its late, paige.”

“i shouldn’t have entertained her, and importantly, i shouldn’t care about what people say. i promise it won’t happen again, i won’t entertain her anymore. i’m sorry, baby. i really am.”

you pause for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. your anger from earlier was still lingering around, you won’t just fully forgive her.

“yea, okay. you can sleep here tonight, its late anyway.”

you head into your bedroom, getting comfy under the comforter. you feel the other side of the bed being filled up with your girlfriends scent.

your back was facing her, you didn’t bother moving one bit. you were falling asleep.

paige was still up, scrolling through her phone. she couldn’t sleep at all, knowing that you weren’t in your best mood just yet. it was already 2am.

you woke up from music coming out of paige’s phone. she must be watching tiktok. you turn to face her, still half asleep.

“love, go to sleep. its so late” you mumble, wrapping your arms around her waist as you fall back asleep.

paige turns her phone off, laying down properly so that she could hold you in your arms.

“i love you always, baby.”

she whispers, kissing your forehead.

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

[reidrum]

hard to love (easy to be loved) | s.r

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pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

a/n: this one is kinda short, but i kinda like it? i wrote that big speech spencer gives first out of self indulgence and the rest came after so i hope it meshed well. i love hearing yalls thoughts so please let me know what you think!!!! ALSO, im taking requests! guidelines are in my pinned, and im adding a smut prompt list if yall wanna choose from that too, or not thats cool too. lastly i just wanna say that if you relate to reader, i love you, you’re not alone, and you are worthy of love and kindness. okay im done yapping now love yall <3

cw: hurt/comfort, fluff, allusions to depression and depressive episode, gn!insecure!reader, spencer is a sweetheart that would rebuild pompeii for you i think

wc: 1.1k

°°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....••°° °°••....•

spencer found you on the couch when he got home from the office. he hadn’t heard from you in like, a day, and he just assumed you were busy with work just as he was. but when he walked in his heart clenched at the sight in front of him.

you were curled up on the couch facing away from the door, blankets all but covering your head, tissues scattered everywhere. you had dirty dishes and trash lying around the room, but spencer didn’t even have time to think about the germs when he heard you take a shuddering breath, and he felt his heart drop.

he drops his bag with a thud and hopefully announces his presence. “hi honey, i’m home,” he starts, not wanting to overwhelm you too fast. you don’t respond, just a soft hum that if spencer’s ears weren’t focused on your voice he’d have missed it. he pads over to the edge of the couch and kneels down, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face, “what happened?”

you’re quiet for a few seconds like you’re thinking of a good excuse to tell him, but when you look up into his eyes and all you’re met with is sheer concern, the tears spring right back into you and fall further into your losing battle.

“okay no, hey, it’s alright,” he whispers, keeping his hand steady on you, “what can i do for you right now? did you eat?” you shake your head, “how about you go wash your face really quick and put on different pjs, and i’ll order takeout.”

the tears gather in your eyes and threaten to fall, “okay”. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and helps you sit up on the couch, smoothing your hair further down.

“i’ll be right here when you get back.” he squeezes your hand.

you tiredly swipe at your eyes and trudge to your room to wash your face and get clothes, trying your best to avoid any mirror so as not to accept your current state. walking back out, spencer is exactly where he said he’d be, but the trash and dishes have been picked up, clean blankets adorn the couch, and the tv softly hums with the new girl intro.

he looks at you from the couch, “thai food will be here in 20 minutes”, he moves a little to create the perfect you sized hole between his lap and the blankets, “come sit with me.”

you walk around the couch and spencer snakes his arm around your waist slowly pulling you down so you land perfectly in the crevice he created. he’s quick to drape his arm securely around your body, the other hand finding a home in your hair. he holds you snug to his body, hoping the warmth and love he has for you can radiate between you both.

“i love you.” spencer mumbles into your head.

you take another big breath, ignoring the way you still shudder in the inhale, “i know,” a lingering pause follows. spencer can tell you want to say more and he waits for you to continue, “i’m sorry.”

he pulls back so he can look at your face, “why are you sorry? you didn’t do anything, sweetheart.”

“i know, i just,” you try to push out as your throat threatens to seize up, “something triggered me in the morning, made me spiral really fast.”

“that’s not your fault, honey.”

“it’s not but, i just feel bad. like it happens so frequently at this point i feel like this is my natural state 90% of the time.”

“it’s actually pretty common to have intense feeli-“

“i said sorry because i feel like when i get like this it makes me hard to love.” you interject abruptly.

spencer stops talking. he knew you had a hard past, and he always tells you it’s made you who you are. he always tells you how beautiful you are, how smart you are, how your kindness and empathy is something he just marvels at. but he also knew he can only say so much that you would actually believe. spencer doesn’t mind using every breath he has to remind you.

he held your face with the palm of his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his honeyed eyes, “it is deeply important to me that you know how much i love and care about you. i know it’s hard to block out what other people think. but i would spend the rest of my life and then some showing you how worthy you are of being loved for who you are,” he whispers, “i promise you are not hard to love. i’m so sorry that people have made you feel like that. but i mean it when i say, that loving you is the easiest thing i've ever done.”

that was all you needed to just break in the comfort of his arms. you were trailing snot and tears onto his shirt and the only thing he did was pull you even closer to his chest. his hand ran up and down your back to soothe your spine, and his other hand remained on your hip, providing a comforting and reminding pressure.

“do you really mean that?” you couldn’t help but ask meekly.

not even a second passes, “always. you are my now, my tomorrow, my forever. i will always be here for you, pinky promise.” he holds out his slender pinky finger.

you let out a tearful laugh, “a pinky promise? what has the man of science devolved to.”

“devolved!? i’ll have you know, a pinky promise is actually the most sacred and serious promises of all. it actually dates back to ancient japan when this prostitute had to cu-“

“spence,” you hold out your pinky, “i love you.”

he intertwines with yours and raises your joint hands to kiss his thumb to seal it as you do the same, “i love you.” he leans in to place a longing kiss on your lips before moving to kiss your cheeks, nose, forehead, and then just everywhere until you’re giggling in his lap.

you both turn your attention back to the tv, watching winston and schmidt fight over their names when you blurt out, “okay i’m intrigued. what the fuck does a prostitute have to do with pinky promises.”

he laughs accusingly, “ah i knew curiosity would kill the cat. so there was this prostitute who had to cut their pinky off to show devotion of their love to…”

and you let his knowledge rambles lull you to sleep, the most restful one in days.

[cloudluvrrr]

Boothill headcannons. 💭

A PROMISE IS A PROMISE 🤞🤞🤞 and I delivered 😍💪 srry ab being mia been busy playing splatoon

My bootyhill is almost MAXXED out yall 😛😛

—

a/n: Boothill gives me Adrianne Lenker vibes yk I can’t be the only one help anyways enjoy this 😛 long asf and I don’t believe in proof reading

— Precyborg: Boothill x g/n reader

tw warning : fluff and sad ending bc we can’t have a happy one according to hoyoverse !! 💕

—

ingyadar - Adrianne Lenker

my kind of women - Mac de Marco

The hitchhikers guide to the galaxy - ARTMS

-

-I feel like you and Boothill would be childhood lovers yk? Like you two were close friends and ended up catching feelings (I would too) always hanging around each other and getting into trouble l together.

-because to me he grew up in a small town with a big family (I think of like those towns in cowboy movies 😭)

-especially in highschool, but not for long. I’d think Boothill dropped out during freshman year(?) to help with his dads but you continued your studies.

-when confronted about it he scoffed and said ‘don’t need no fancy algebra or biology.’ He’d say.

-he’d see you at school (during lunch) and you two would usually hang out after school. Or during festivals or parties.

-scenario-

You two would always sneak away to the lake when it would get boring, giggling and laughing along the way. This time it was during a town festival, everyone in town went so of course no one would notice if two highschools went missing.

So off you two went giggling as you stumbled behind him holding his hand (in a platonic way ofc). “Boothill wait up!” You’d giggle as you slid down the hill. “Hurry or the sheriff will get us!” He’d shout as he helped you up, and the two of you began to splash water on each other. Up until night and his dads caught him with you again

—

-things like that would often happen, anytime one was missing they’d always assume the other would tag along

-your families of course always shipped you two. And knew eventually you’d date (spoilers you do)

- he’d confess to you on a random summer afternoon. While you two sat on his bed in his room

— you two sat on his bed looking around nervously and awkwardly. It was never like this, Boothill would usually say something but he didn’t, he’s open his mouth but nothing came out. His mouth felt dry, unable to confess. But he mustered up the courage.

‘hey.. I, uh” he began before sighing “I really.. really REALLY like you” he finished with a red face as he looked you in the eyes. As you’d giggle nervously and soon turned into a good laugh. “I really like you too Boothill” you said softly kissing his cheek. As he nearly fainted and tackled you into a hug. ‘Finally’ he’d think to himself

-

- now that you two are dating nothing much has changed. Other than kisses and leaving the door open when you two hang out (his dads are concerned about him doing funny stuff to you)

-not a day went by that you wouldn’t be with him, at his house or yours.

-he liked pet names mostly using ‘baby’ or your name.

-he knew how to play guitar they taught him in school, but he learned it on his own and would often serenade to you.

-he’d love cuddling though, in his bed specifically. Yours is too crowed for his liking. (He has one pillow). And play a few records he managed to snag that were imported from a different planet

- the sun painted the sky a pink and orange hue, as your laid in boothills arms dozing off to the soft music in the background. As he whispered sweet nothings to you and some jokes that kept you up giggling. “Your cute you know” he chuckled kissing you temple as she squeezed you

-

-an example of how you’d spend your days, other than teasing and bullying each other 😜

-he was dirt poor. So often he’d ask you for money, which would end up in you hitting his head. But giving in as long as he got you something (most of the time it was burgers 😔)

— up until your graduated, he’d always say how he wanted to leave his dads and live alone with you. So secretly (somehow I don’t know) he’d built a small house with his buddies. ( I feel like you’d move until you were like 20 ig)

-so you’d pack up everything and moved in to the small Cabin. It was small a two small rooms and bathrooms with a big enough kitchen. Also including a farm (of fucking course). Housing his horse, two cows, and a chick coop. A barn dog and cat :3

-you lived comfortably and happily, you’d stay at home and he’s venture off to help others or sell your farm goods.

-he couldn’t propose, he barely had any savings left after buying your couch. So it often got postponed, you didn’t mind (your parents did)

—

-it was a winter night. Boothill was god knows where and you worked in the kitchen making a simple stew. As your pregnant house cat meowed for a piece of beef, you were scolding the cat as Boothill entered the home with a small bundle of blankets in his arms as he closed the door. “Your home.. what’s that?” You’d asked before he walked over showing you the small girl.

“WHOS KID DID YOU KIDNAP” you shouted, startling the little who began to fuss “you idiot I found her..!” He hissed “we don’t have anything for a baby boothill, you know that” you said sighing “I know.. but I couldn’t leave her out there! That’s how my dads found me ya know, aren’t you glad they didn’t leave me to die?” He asked huffing “..sometimes” you shrugged.

—

— there began your journey as parents, you’d sew dresses and onesies for her. As well as ask both of your parents for old baby things, Boothill had a rough time setting up basically everything

‘You can build a house but not a crib’

‘Shut up nerd’

—

You stood outside putting the laundry out to dry on the clothesline. And watched from the corner of your eye the little one and Boothill. As he sat in the shade holding her small guitar he’d made for her, as she sat in the middle and giggled at the kittens playing around her. She’d grown, about 8 months and beginning to walk.

“Da” she said pointing to a certain kitten “yup that’s a kitty” he chuckled watching her gently touch the fluffy ball of fur and giggled. Eventually waddling up to him and falling into his lap as she snuggled him and fell asleep. The sight tugging at your heart strings.

-

-most of your days were spent like that, her playing with the cats. Her waddling around the home or her touching her guitar Boothill made her.

- up until that fateful day, he’d planned to propose to you before he overheard the damn ipc officers joking about burning the town. He didn’t believe it until he saw it. Everything covered in flames, making sure to leave no survivors. And all he could do was watch as the tears fell from his eyes.

- after

he’d often lay in a run down hotel room, in his own head. Admiring the cheap ring he’d finally gotten you, and one you’d never get to wear. Fiddling with it with his metal fingers as he returned it to the small box.

‘I miss you baby’

-

_ 😜😜

STREAM ARTMS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

THIA IS CHAOTIC BUT these r my thoughts

comment like and subscribe 😘😘

I’m not ready for Ruan mei & Argenti rerun 😔💔

my requests open 🤞 look at my pinned post for rules and who I write for 😈😈

- sent from my iPhone 💔

[monstersflashlight]

Just gonna say in advance that this ask is with watersports, so if you’re not down for that, no hard feelings and you don’t have to respond to it

But if you are…I wanna send a request for a gator monster and a reader (both male). The reader needs to piss but they can’t get it going due to nervousness, so the gator monster offers to let reader piss on his mouth and on him, and while reader’s pissing he sucks reader’s cock off and you both cum and piss

Hi anon! I’m okay with watersports, there’s one story with werewolf x fem!reader and watersports here. In this case, I took your idea and changed it a lil bit because I wanted to add the extra public situation, hope you don’t mind and hope you like it! <3

“Rain on me” or how to unlock a new kink

Gator-monster x male!reader || watersports, oral sex, lowkey dirty talk, semi-public sex || tw: piss

You two were in the club, the music so loud your eardrums felt like they were going to tear. But you loved it. You loved the intoxicating feeling of the people around you dancing, specially your sweaty skin rubbing against your boyfriend’s scales.

Your gator boyfriend moved his hips along the music like a pro. “I need to pee,” you told him. He insisted on accompanying you, always the gentleman. Or gentle-monster in his case. When you got to the bathroom, the line was so long you couldn’t even see the door. Fuck. “I can’t. I can’t wait,” you urged.

You couldn’t stop jumping on your feet, your bladder so full you felt like you were going to explode. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You looked at him with pleading eyes, trying to find the answers you needed in that moment.

“Come here.” He took your hand and dragged you along to the alleyway. He pressed your back against the cement wall. There was a strong odor around you, but his big body pressed against yours made you all kinds of excited, forgetting the dirty background. And your still full bladder.

You pushed his body softly, “I need to pee like yesterday.”

You tried to turn around, thinking about peeing against the wall, but he held you there. You looked at him perplexed. He fell to his knees in front of you as he opened your pants, taking your cock out. It gave a twitch at the contact, the soft touch of his hand-scales against your dick turning you on instantly. The pressure of your excitement plus your full bladder made your whole body shiver as you looked up, trying to forget your boyfriend on his knees in front of you.

“Rain on me,” he deadpanned. It caught you off guard and you let out a big laugh, looking down at him as tears rushed to your eyes.

“Did you just make an Ariana Grande’s reference?” The absurdity of the situation making you giggle uncontrollably, making your need to pee even worse. You held your lower abdomen as you looked at him, still giggling.

“I did,” his voice didn’t even twitch. “Now come on, piss.” Your laugh stopped, thinking about what he was offering. You looked at him so intensely that you forgot to blink and your brain got foggy. Your big gator boyfriend had his mouth open in front of your dick.

“Wha- what?” You asked, completely confused, trying really hard to focus not to peeing.

He looked at you like you were dumb, and you felt a bit dumb at the moment, too. And then he blew your mind: “Piss in my mouth, come one. I will like it.” He opened his mouth again, his big eyes shiny under the street lights.

“You- you will?” Your head was spinning.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I would prefer for this to happen at home, but I take what I can get, and right now I want you to pee on me, and then suck your dick.” His tone was so normal and collected you didn’t know how to react, why was he so comfortable talking about you pissing in his mouth? Who was this monster and what did he do with your sweet boyfriend?

You wanted to argue his point, or at least get some answers out of him, but the need to pee was too much a couple droplets escaped you and landed on his open mouth. He moaned as you stared how the almost transparent liquid ran down his tongue. Something inside of you was awoken then, you never thought you’d like that, but good lord if it didn’t turn you on to see your pee on his mouth, to see him swallow it and groan.

From that point on instinct took over. You peed on his open mouth as he swallowed slowly, some of it dripping down and wetting his naked torso. Some part of your brain registered how handy it was that he never wore a shirt arguing his scales were enough. Seeing your fluids running down his torso made you send a silent thank you to his whole kind.

And once again, he blew your mind. Or more like he blew your dick. He pushed himself forwards and took your dick inside his mouth, receiving your piss directly and humming around hit, content sounds fueling your rapidly rising desire. Your dick started to get hard in his mouth, heat surrounding your tip as he played with you. His rough tongue harsh against your skin.

Your hands shoot for his head and you scratched his scales, he groaned around your dick, rapidly approaching an orgasm. You moved your hips slowly against his face. Close, so close. His claw found the back of your clothed ass, and he groped you, the combination of sensations too much. You couldn’t give him a heads up before you were coming, your seed mixing with the pee still on his mouth as he swallowed around you. You groaned loudly, head thrown back as you melted into the wall.

He held you in place against the wall as you tried to regain your breathing. “Mmmm, that was delicious,” he told you, standing up and pecking at your lips. You licked them and found a bitter and salty taste there. Both of you moaned. Your dick gave a brave twitch, trying to get up again. Why was all of that such a turn on? You were about to ask your boyfriend just that when he asked you: “Let’s go home?” You nodded, unable to form words, and barely able to walk, your knees too weak. He held you against his body and almost carried you out of the alleyway. You smiled as you rested your head against his shoulder, he kissed your forehead softly.

And that’s how you accidentally unlocked a new kink.

[syoddeye]

ill-advised

simon x f! reader | 1165 words cw: simon being a gross creep, terrible advice, slimy internet culture, bad usernames, unsolicited nudes a/n: wrote this silly thing on my phone. lightly edited. been thinking about how simon would be the world's worst agony uncle. enjoy a few easter eggs.

Simon doesn’t have a God complex. No. He leaves that to the Simulation 5 streamers who build complicated dungeons beneath their character’s cottages, forcing others to labor on paintings or crochet projects to sell and support their captor’s livelihood. Not that he…watches those. No, no. He’s simply seen more than his fair share of depravity. Some of it at his expense, some at others, and more than a chunk of it dealt by his own two hands. He knows how the world works. How people work. He knows his shit, plain and simple.

So when his schedule allows, he logs on after midnight. His username and password are two alphanumeric strings, but people recognize the cluster of digits and letters. Wait for his comments. Follow his account. Send him stupid digital gifts, some useless currency to dress up his default icon. The amount increases daily, as does his following. His own little cult.

He doesn’t care about the numbers. Not really. He just loves dishing out his honest opinion, and nobody’s safe.

AN [Advice Needed] Family forgot to invite me on a trip, expect me to go last minute Hi, it’s like the title says. I (25 M) live across the country from my parents, siblings (all all adults), nieces, and nephews. I am the only one who lives on this coast, but I try to visit twice a year. I recently reached out to my brother to see when he thinks I should come visit in June and suggested some dates. I know it’s only February, but I want to save money on airfare. He responded: “Isn’t that when we’re going to Hawaii???” It was the first I heard of it. It turns out my parents invited my siblings to Hawaii and planned a family vacation without me. I confronted my parents about it, they swore they invited me too then said I could send them my share of the bill for the resort and book a flight. Like it’s no big deal. I can’t afford to go and I don’t want to go, but I feel really pressured. And sad! They forgot me! Who am I, Kevin McAllister?

> 35J0G39GH6: Find out the resort name. Cancel the reservations. Cease contact.

Within seconds, a dozen upvotes. A minute later, a hundred. Up, up, up. And the replies? Oh, the replies. He smirks at the cracked phone screen.

>> michaelEthelcaine: Fucking brutal as always >> c0y0t3fug1y: LMAO it’s this simple OP - this dude is never wrong >> patcemetery79: I DID THIS BACK IN 2003 FOR A FAMILY REUNION. A REAL RIOT! HAVEN’T BEEN INVITED TO ONE SINCE@ HILARIOUS!!!!!! I LOVE YOU 35J

Simon receives a fair share of downvotes, too. Negative comments. He doesn’t give a shit, but some of them are fucking hilarious.

>> grasshopperwhirlpool: Not funny. Be better than this asshole, OP. I’m sure it was a simple mistake. >> thewildrumpussy: really mature advice. who shit in your coffee?

Every few weeks, a morally righteous do-gooder encourages people to mass-report him, and he gets a slap on the wrist. The idiots come out in droves after some of his more choice replies, like worms after a heavy rain. The most recent offense?

AN [Advice Needed] My husband (35 M) forgot my (33 F) birthday My husband of three years forgot my birthday. No flowers, cake, or gifts. When I came home from work he asked about dinner. I lost it, turned around, and left. I’m at my sister’s house now (and she started baking when I called and told her what happened!) but he won’t stop blowing up my phone. He says it’s because he’s been so busy but here’s the thing: he forgot last year too. I really love him but I’m tired of this treatment.

> 35J0G39GH6: Have your friend take you home between 3-4 AM. Cut his brake lines. Go back to her place. Wait for the inevitable.

>> 6polyesterbutthole9: i dont care if this is illegal its funny af >> passtheaggression: Hand to god, you need your own forum dude.  >> gordonramsme55: Where are the mods on this??? This shit is going to get someone killed. Report this psycho. >>> puffalo: Agreed I think this breaks Rules 3 & 5, reporting now >> austrianPrincess: not saying i did this but when my boyfriend’s brakes failed, i got a big check, OP!  >>> gordonramsme55: This is what I’m talking about!  >>> 6polyesterbutthole9: get that check >> tech60nyneme: WOW someone check this guy’s crawlspace. reported and blocked

That one earns him the most severe ‘punishment’ yet: A month-long commenting ban. No skin off his nose, he's deployed days later, anyway. If anything, the radio silence winds his followers up, their excitement a palpable thing when he gets out of forum jail. He rewards them with another series of blunt, to-the-point pieces of advice. 

His absence makes one particular fan particularly hungry, and a little desperate.

He’s no stranger to unsolicited dick and cleavage pics from his followers. They flood his inbox, giving him a side hobby of delivering pithy degradation the sick fucks seem to love. Saves the best for his private collection. 

But then he gets a picture from some cute thing with a comment about him being her favorite person on the Internet. Knelt all sweet in front of her mirror, haloed by a ring light, white lace barely hiding the goods. His eyes snap to her tits—where his ridiculous username is scrawled in sharpie. There’s nothing to critique except maybe the laundry in the background of the shot. Tugs his cock to it, then clicks her username to check her comment history, and wouldn’t you know. Her location is public on her profile. She’s a couple hours away from her idol and doesn’t even know it. 

>> 35J0G39GH6: Perfection. >> YN10282022: Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d reply. >> YN10282022: You know, a few months ago, you gave me good advice about my creepy boss. >> YN10282022: I posted about the stuff he’d say to me. >> YN10282022: It took some time, but I was able to record him. Sent it over to his wife on their anniversary. When he accused me, I told him HR was getting the next copy. >> YN10282022: I got a promotion and a raise, and sent the file anyway. >> 35J0G39GH6: Good girl. >> 35J0G39GH6: I’ll be in your neck of the woods in a week for work. >> YN10282022: Really?? I’d love to meet up! >> 35J0G39GH6: Probably shouldn’t. I’d advise you against meeting me. >> YN10282022: They do say you should never meet your heroes. :) >> 35J0G39GH6: Shouldn’t meet strangers off the Internet, either.

She still sends him the address of a cafe. It matches one he finds on her social media an hour later. She seems to be a frequent customer. Simon grins at his screen, the sole light source in his dark room. He taps back to her pretty picture.

She looks like an angel.

[scoonsalicious]

With Friends Like These...

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Lies, Machinations.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky found the envelope you were sent. And he did not take it well. He went running to Lily.

A/N: I have a job interview this afternoon! Wish me luck (although, by the time this posts, it will be over with already, but, you know, good vibes!)!!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily couldn’t believe her luck. When she had arranged to have that envelope sent to The WarZone, she expected Major to freak out, to be frightened and disturbed, maybe even disgusted, by everything Bucky had done in his past and decide to stop seeing him. 

But for Bucky to think that Major was running background on him without his knowledge, and for him to run out on her? Lily couldn’t have planned it better. And he’d come to Lily for comfort. Everything was going perfectly. She was even willing to eat this disgusting pineapple on her pizza, she was in such a good mood.

Currently, Bucky was sitting on the floor, back leaning against her couch while she massaged his scalp, the television playing some mind numbing comedy in the background.

“I don’t get it, Lil,” he said with a groan. “If she had questions, she could have just asked me. I would have told her anything she wanted to know.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, wishing he would move on to a different topic, any topic, other than that harlot. “I did tell you she was a bitch, Jamie.”

Bucky leaned his head back. “But why would she do it?” he asked her with a sigh. “She made such a big deal about saying I didn’t have to tell her anything until I was ready. So, why would she go digging?”

Lily scratched at his scalp, trying not to let her annoyance come through her ministrations. “She obviously lied to you, Jamie. Apparently, your past mattered more to her than she claimed. I hate to say this,” she said, struck with a jolt of inspiration, “but maybe she’s attracted to that kind of thing. Some people are sick, Jamie and, well, it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

She eyed him, hoping the memory would hit the way she had intended it to. She had been particularly proud of orchestrating that breakup. Bucky had been devastated, of course– but when he had confided to Lily that he had been planning on asking Jessica, his girlfriend at the time, to move into his room at the Compound with him, she had to take action. What else was Lily supposed to do, honestly?

So, she'd fabricated search histories on Bucky's laptop for all kinds messed up Winter Soldier porn while Bucky was away on a mission; the nastier, the better; and then conveniently "discovered" the history after asking Bucky to borrow his computer. Since Jessica had, "technically," been the only other person, aside from Bucky, with access to the device, convincing him that she had been the one to search for it all hadn't been difficult. Despite Jessica's pleas that she'd done no such thing, it was hard refuting the evidence Lily had manufactured, especially since Bucky was so technologically illiterate and never thought to check for dates and times of the searches, and Jessica had been out of their lives by dinnertime. Lily would be eternally grateful to Rule 34.

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Bucky asked her remorsefully. “Girls are either going to be terrified of the Winter Soldier, or weirdly turned on by him? There’s no in between where they just see 'Bucky'?”

Lily rolled her eyes. Was he always this fucking dramatic? “Jamie, you’ve barely been dating her. Be thankful you found out about her now, before you got in too deep.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It could have been a lot worse. At least now, you know the truth about her, and you can move on.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky lamented. “I’m a fucking monster. How can I expect any good woman to fall in love with me, after all the shit I’ve done?” 

“Maybe,” she began, playing with the chain of his dog tags and hoping to get him off his pity train, “the problem is that you’re too caught up with girls who don’t really know you. Maybe you’d be better off with someone you already have a solid foundation with, you know?” Lily gently tugged his tags out from underneath his collar and began running her fingers across the metal, as she’d done hundreds of times before. It always made her feel connected to him, grounded.

Except, this time, they felt… wrong, somehow. The metal engraving where his name should be felt foreign, not the embossing she was so intimately familiar with. She felt her stomach plummet. 

“What’s with your tags?” she asked, not even giving him an opportunity to respond to her previous statement. “They don’t feel right.”

Bucky pulled away from her, reaching up to gently take the tags from between her fingers into his own. 

“These are Major’s,” he said softly as he ran his thumb across the engraving, looking at the tags almost longingly. 

“Why–” Lily fought for composure, “why do you have her tags?” she asked him. “Where are yours?”

“We traded,” Bucky confessed to her. “Fuck, now I’m going to have to figure out how to get mine back.”

“You gave her your tags.” Lily did her best to cover her disgust and disbelief by making it a statement, not a question. In all their years of friendship, she’d never, not once, known him to ever take those tags off, let alone allow someone else to wear them– and lord knows she’d tried to get him to let her. Bucky nodded.

“You just let some random slut wear your tags, Jamie?” There was no hiding the distress in her voice now as she stood up from the couch, the action so abrupt that it knocked Bucky forward on the floor. 

“You barely know her! That’s so… so… ugh, that’s so gross!” 

“Why are you so upset about it?” he asked her, standing up and looking at her with a curious expression. “They’re my tags, but you’re freaking out about them worse than I am.” 

Shit. Cover, cover, cover.

“Well,” Lily hemmed, “because, obviously, she’s awful. I mean, she did all that shady recon on you. I gotta say, I think you should probably be thankful for whoever sent her that envelope. They did you a favor in showing you her true self, right?”

Bucky froze, his expression staring off into the middle distance as if he’d just realized something of vital importance. “Shit,” he whispered.

“What?”

He made a beeline for the kitchen, picking up his discarded leather jacket and shrugging it back on. “I fucked up, Lil. I fucked up, big time.”

“Where are you going?” she asked as he made his way back toward the front door, and she could hear the desperation in her own voice. “Jamie, we’re having such a good night.”

Bucky paused to turn to her, his hand on the doorknob. “She was upset when she got that envelope, Lil. I was so taken by surprise when I saw the contents of it, I completely forgot about her reaction when she first recieved it. She didn’t even know where it had come from. There’s no way she was doing background research on me.”

Lily could feel all her opportunities slipping between her fingers like fallen sand. “Maybe she was lying to you. Covering her tracks so you wouldn't suspect,” she said, knowing the excuse was flimsy, but not being able to come up with anything else in the moment.

"But she didn't know I would even still be there," Bucky protested as he opened the door. "I got held up having a conversation with Nat. Major was surprised to see me still in the building. There's no way she made that bit up for my benefit."

“I don’t see how that changes her motives in the least. Maybe she saw you still there and came up with the lie on the spot.”

“Because that’s not who she is!” Bucky practically shouted, taking Lily aback with his tone. “You said she did me the favor of showing me her true self, and that’s just the thing– I don’t believe that’s who Major truly is. If, and that’s a big ‘if,’ she did look up information about my past, she probably had a damned good reason, and I–fuck– I never even gave her the chance to explain! I just stormed out of there like a fucking toddler! I have to go make this right while I still have a chance. I’ll let you know how it goes!”

And with that, he was out the door, running, once again, back to her, and leaving Lily all alone, and heartbroken. How could things have gone from so spectacularly wonderful to so awful, in such a short span of time?

More importantly, if, for some reason, Major did decide to forgive Bucky, what was Lily’s next step going to be to break them up for good?

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[audiblehush]

“Let Down” doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

Part 1 was pretty phenomenal setup. Perfect? No, but really good in terms of how they were approaching their characters in all their complexities and contradictions.

Part 2 threw ALL of that in the trash. I feel like I can’t even really articulate all my complaints about it right now; it’s too raw. These characters became cardboard cutouts of themselves and I’m just like… how could they fumble the ball so badly?

I have been saying for AGES that the latest Part 2 could get away with Colin finding out about LW was the beginning of ep. 6. That would allow him an ENTIRE episode for him to work through his anger and heartbreak AND for Penelope to fight toward earning his trust back (idk, like the episode name IMPLIES?! “Romancing Mr. Bridgerton” … where?! Where was the romancing?!).

Instead we have him finding out AT the start of fucking episode 7, with the most manufactured drama “will she won’t she” lead-up EVER. And then they’re not speaking for the majority of the FINAL two episodes while I fast forward through Ben’s threesomes trying to find more non-existent Polin?!

We were told it was going to be “Polin against the world” in episodes 7 and 8 and we got NONE of that?? I had no problem with Colin being angry, but the TIMING and PACING of it was always going to be critical and they fucked up big time. We got ONE real Polin sex scene BEFORE Colin knew about LW. I was willing to excuse that if the writing made up for it later but yeah… that’s not what happened. The level of betrayal is unreal.

They spent all this time giving Cressida a sympathetic backstory to just… ship her off? To show the similarities in her home life to Pen only to… do nothing with it? A chance for Pen to “use her quill responsibly” and she doesn’t because nope, gotta shift to one of MILLION plots that are in the air! So many possibilities they could have employed there with Pen and Cressida but NOPE - ship her off to a controlling aunt!

They did NOTHING for Colin aside from a few lines about him working on a manuscript? That’s it?! We don’t even REALLY get him sitting down and talking with Penelope about LW and her reasons, his own insecurities… we just get like, a brief line about it in the last episode? We didn’t get him (OR Pen) calling out his family for the way they often treat him as an afterthought?! JUSTICE FOR COLIN.

And to have Pen still writing LW at the end? To have her keep the coping mechanism that she developed out of the result of an ugly home life? (that makes no sense even because logistically it only worked with her IN THE SHADOWS). When you could have made her a novelist? You just immediately hand-wave the column and make her a baby making machine?!

No fucking thanks.

The writing let Pen, Colin, Cressida, and Eloise ALL down.

The writing in part 2 just didn’t respect these characters of their journeys. That was always going to be a death blow, based on all the comments actors have made… I have to imagine so much of this season ended up on the editing room floor… because part 2 was a DISASTER. I guess this is what fanfic is for, but to barely have my babies together in THEIR SEASON growing into their own and together? It just breaks my heart.

Nicola and Luke deserved better.

Pen and Colin deserved better.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

pre hotel battle and vaggie wants to round out her gf's stat blocks just a LITTLE bit more

Vaggie: “Okay sweetie, big battle for our lives and hotel coming up.”

Charlie: “Which we are going to WIN and NOT DIE in!”

Vaggie: “Right. First battle you’ve ever been in?”

Charlie: “Technically, yes.”

Vaggie: “Still not vibing with an actual weapon?”

Charlie: “They’re all so…. Pointy and mean looking…?”

Vaggie: “So we’re sticking with the shield plan for you.”

Charlie: “I drew up some designs for one! LOOK! WINGS!!!”

Vaggie: “Really, very cute babe, it’ll look great on you. Very cool thing for any murder angels to smack face first into.”

Charlie: “Thank you!”

Vaggie: “But I’ve been thinking… well no, I’ve been having nightmares-”

Charlie: “OH NO!!!”

Vaggie: “-and if you wanna help with that, maybe you could have, like, just one kinda attack thing?”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Vaggie: “One trick up your sleeve, Charlie. That’s all I’m asking.”

Charlie: “I… I guess… if you’re worried, then…”

Charlie: “…I could… try doing the demon thing… a little…?”

Vaggie: “No you hate that.”

Charlie: (HUGE SIGH) “Okay good! WHEW. So what’s the OTHER attack thing idea??”

Vaggie: “You do have a little of the carnival magic stuff, yeah? Like your dad?”

Charlie: “Oh I love that stuff! YES!”

Vaggie: “I was thinking maybe you could do fireworks.”

Charlie: “FUN!”

Vaggie: “And explode people with them.”

Charlie: “HORRIFYING!!!”

Vaggie: “I know. I know but- just a little, sweetie? For me?”

Charlie: “Explode them, Vaggie? Into, pieces!?”

Vaggie: “I’m picturing globs and chunks actually.”

Charlie: “Vaggie!”

Vaggie: “Sorry, look-” (takes gf’s hands)

Vaggie: “This is gonna be a real battle with a lot of stuff happening. Lots of people. Lots of yelling and people running around. We’re probably gonna get separated at some point-”

Charlie: “No. You’re staying right next to me.”

Vaggie: “Charlie I swear I’m gonna try to, but that's not how big mob fights work out.”

Charlie: “We can MAKE it work like that THIS time!”

Vaggie: “Listen. I really, really want to go into this knowing you’ve got something for crowd control, alright? If a dozen angels swoop down on you and I’m not right there, I wanna know you can give yourself enough breathing space to keep that shield between you and them.”

Charlie: “But- you WILL be there-”

Vaggie: “One hit. That’s all it takes. For me and for them both, and you- please.” (squeezes hands) “They want to kill you. And they can. And they’re gonna try to.”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “… I don’t want, to hurt people.”

Vaggie: “A shield to the face hurts.”

Charlie: “Okay fine- I don’t want to KILL people! Or even get close!”

Vaggie: “That’s fine, that’s the world we’re aiming for.”

Charlie: “But it’s not good enough right now though, is it.”

Vaggie: “… maybe it is.”

Charlie: “You just said…”

Vaggie: “Fuck what I said, you don’t need to detonate anyone for crowd control. You can do lights, right?”

Charlie: “Yes?”

Vaggie: “Bright and flashy ones?”

Charlie: “Obviously, those are the best kinds-”

Vaggie: “So try flashing people.”

Charlie: “Flashing?? Wh- IN THE MIDDLE OF A BATTLE???”

Vaggie: “-blinding, blinding I meant blind them with flashing lights, get them to back off.”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Vaggie: “That a doable thing?”

Charlie: “Yes VERY doable! Like a really amazing sparkler!”

Vaggie: “And they wouldn’t be dead, they just wouldn’t be able to see enough to attack you.”

Charlie: “It wouldn’t even really HURT THEM even!”

Vaggie: “Sure. Unless they trip or fly into something.”

Charlie: “And you’d feel better???”

Vaggie: “Much, much better.”

Charlie: “Enough to sleep?”

Vaggie: “When you’re not keeping me up half the night with kisses, yeah. I think so.”

Charlie: “I’LL DO IT! I’ll practice weaponizing pretty sparkles!”

Vaggie: “Thanks, babe.”

Charlie: “What battle weapon-y things should I be practicing with them, in practice?”

Vaggie: “Uhhh make it a reflex, fine tune your aim…”

Charlie: “Fun!”

Vaggie: “Figuring out how to not blind everyone else too would be good.”

Charlie: “That’s a good point, hmm-”

Charlie: “-Ohhhhh I could make the lights SMALL. Very small, so they don’t do much on their own- then only someone who’s super close and I’m aiming for and who gets a face FULL of them would really be blinded!”

Vaggie: “You’re so smart.”  

Charlie: “OH MY GOSH I COULD THROW GLITTER BOMBS!”

Vaggie: “That honestly sounds terrifying. I love it.”

Charlie: “HEHEHHEHEH.”

Charlie: (smooches her)

Charlie: “We’ll stay together in the fight so you can have front row seats to the light show, okay?”

Vaggie: "... we can try to..."

Charlie: "Will. We will stay together."

Vaggie: “… and, you’ll practice hard until then.”

Charlie: “I will!”

Vaggie: (lets out breath) “Then we’ll be okay. And also sparkly.”

Charlie: “Same thing~”

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Four / Sunday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Some very light spice and alcohol in this chapter. If you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

SUNDAY MORNING

On your third morning at sea, the sound of soft waves lapping against the hull of the yacht gently woke you. It was still early and you could see that the sun had just started to rise, the sky a cool blue, promising yet more glorious weather.

George slept contently beside you, his wavy hair flopping over his forehead and his eyelashes fluttering. Deciding to lay in and snooze, you cosied up, careful not to wake him as you slipped an arm around his waist from behind, wrapping your leg over his.

“Morning big spoon,” he said sleepily, tucking your arm under his.

“Morning,” you replied, kissing his shoulder affectionately. Despite your mixed emotions, you still enjoyed waking up beside George.

The pair of you snoozed contently until your alarm sounded, George grumbling as he leaned over to turn it off.

Lying in bed, you knew what was about to happen and sure enough, like clockwork, George rolled over and positioned himself above you, now wide awake, pushing his hips into yours.

“It’s been three days.” he said, his eyes bright, “How has it been three days?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, not sure what he was getting at.

“Three days since we last had sex. I feel like an old married couple,” said George, leaning down to nuzzle your neck.

“Wow, we’re really slipping,” you lied, knowing full well that nothing had happened for the past three days because you’d made damn sure of it. You’d feigned tiredness, woken up before him and tried to limit your alone time. This morning, however, you decided to roll with it, as if you turned him down, George would know something was up.

Caressing his face gently, you pulled him down for a kiss, still wracked with guilt over your increasing attraction to Toto. You wondered what it would be like to be in this position with Toto, starting to get turned on at the thought of it.

He was older, undoubtedly more experienced, he was tall, broad and those arms had you swooning. There was the old adage that older men can go all night and you felt yourself getting carried away as George continued kissing up and down your neck.

You shook yourself out of it and tried to focus on the man on top of you, not his boss. But as George doubled down on his affection, your mind still kept slipping to the man almost three decades his senior. You were down bad.

– – –

Guilt plaguing you, you got out of bed not long after, much to George’s displeasure.

“Why are you in such a rush? We have all day. We could stay in bed for a bit longer, maybe make it two for two.” he said, winking at you as he lounged in the sheets.

“Hmm, as tempting as that sounds, we can always go two for two tonight?” you said with a smile, bustling around your cabin, deciding what you were going to wear for the day. “I’d like to make the most of the nice weather this morning, it’s due to rain later.”

“Right, I’m holding you to that,” said George, getting up out of bed and wandering over to you. His hands lightly ghosting your hips from behind, he pressed a kiss into your neck, “To be fair, you’re right. I don’t fancy paddle boarding in the rain.”

You sighed, turning to pull him into an embrace, “I’m always right baby.” you said with a wink, cupping his ass and making him laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, retaliating with his own hands, “You’re so distracting.”

“I know.” you said, teasingly, “At this rate, I’m never going to get dressed.”

‘I don’t mind that.” said George, continuing to hold you close, “I prefer you not dressed.”

“I know you do,” you said, booping him on the nose, “But I’m not sure what your colleagues would say.”

George raised his eyebrows, “True, although I think Toto has a soft spot for you.”

Feigning disgust, you retorted, “Ooh, worried you’ve got competition from the old man?”

“Gravely.” George replied, “I’ll be keeping an eye.”

As you laughed, you felt yet another pang of guilt knowing that he wasn’t far from the truth.

– – –

Having gotten dressed not long after that, you slipping into a swimsuit and George his shorts, the pair of you made your way to the deck where the paddle boards were stored. You’d made the executive decision to skip breakfast and ever eager to please his boss, George had messaged Toto to let him know where you were off to. 

You made quick work of setting your board down on the water and hopping on, George beside you grabbing his own and following suit. The two of you paddled out into more open water in silence for a while, the only sounds the splashing of your paddles and the distant call of seagulls. 

Despite the peaceful surroundings, your mind was anything but calm. The events of the past few days had left you conflicted and being alone with George now only amplified the feelings of guilt and confusion swirling within you.

Your silly little crush on Toto had not helped and you wondered if it wasn’t Toto persay but more the fact that you were in close quarters with a man who wasn’t George. Although if that were true, you’d be entertaining James and John, two men who were most certainly not your type.

"Beautiful morning," George said, breaking the silence. "Just like us, right?" He smiled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

You forced a laugh, trying to dispel the awkwardness. "Yeah, it's lovely."

As you paddled further out, the conversation grew more stilted. It was as if you’d run out of things to talk about. In a bid to inject some fun into the morning, you decided to make your jaunt competitive, knowing that nothing thrilled George more than a race.

“I’ll race you,” you said, a twinkle in your eye.

“Where to?” said George, looking out to only open water.

“Good point,” you said, not sure where to suggest.

“I have a better idea,” said George, with a mischievous air, raising his paddle ominously.

“What?” you asked as George suddenly swiped you on the ass with his paddle, bumping you off and into the water, dunking you under.

“Meanie…” you exclaimed, now soaking wet and pulling yourself back up onto your board

“Gladiators.” he said, laughing, “C’mon, stand up, best of three.”

As you messed about with George, batting each other with your paddles, you noticed the sky growing greyer, the clouds building on the horizon.

Having capsized George for a final time, holding out your arm to help him out of the water, you gestured at the sky, "I think we should head back."

“Yeah probably,” said George, “I’ll quit this game while I’m ahead hey?”

– – –

The first few drops of rain were already beginning to fall as you paddled frantically back to the boat. As you made your way nearer, you spotted Toto standing on the deck, his arms folded.

“Having fun out there?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Always,” you said, smiling, as you pulled your board up and back into the storage area, turning around to help George with his before passing him one of the fluffy towels that the crew had kindly left out for you.

“You should have come Toto,” said George, drying himself off.

“I’m not sure if I want to get capsized.” said Toto dryly, “Although it looks like it is going to pour any moment now. You made it back just in time.”

“Indeed,” you said, glancing out to sea, “It was spitting out there, maybe we can go and get changed before lunch?”

“As you wish,” said Toto, his arms still folded as he turned on his heel to return inside, “I’ll see you both shortly. I think we will eat inside as the weather is not so nice.”

“Cool, we’ll be back asap,” promised George, following you towards the door back to your quarters, just in the knick of time as the heavens started to open.

Reaching your cabin, George closed the door behind you and turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Guess we're stuck inside for a while," he said, moving closer. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You smiled weakly, trying to reciprocate, but your mind was elsewhere. As he kissed you, your thoughts drifted once more to Toto, what on earth was wrong with you? You pulled back gently, but he persisted, his hands roaming more insistently. "George, wait," you murmured, but he didn't seem to hear you.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. You closed your eyes, fighting the rising tide of guilt and confusion. You couldn't do this. Not with him. Not right now.

"I know I said we’d go two for two but I’m freezing and I need a shower," you said suddenly, slipping out of his grasp. "I'll be back in a bit."

George looked puzzled but nodded, letting you go. In the bathroom, you turned on the shower and leaned against the wall, the sound of the water masking your quiet sobs. You had to figure out what you wanted and soon.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

The rain continued to fall heavily all afternoon, confining everyone inside. You’d played cards, backgammon and having exhausted the games cupboard, turned to a good old fashioned drinking game.

“Has anybody ever played Never have I ever?” asked George, a playful look in his eye knowing that your fellow guests likely were too old to know it.

“Can’t say I have,” said John, turning to his wife for confirmation, “Have we?”

“No,” replied Marion, “What is it George?”

As George explained the rules to the others you chanced a glance at Toto who seemed somewhat distracted as he kept gazing out the window. He seemed preoccupied by the brewing storm, despite the crew's assurances that it would blow over.

Your eyes back on the group who were now filled in on the rules, you rearranged yourselves into a loose circle, drinks at the ready. It was time for the game to begin.

"Alright, I'll start," Marion declared, seemingly already slightly tipsy. Taking a sip of her wine, she boldly announced, "Never have I ever gone skinny dipping."

Laughter erupted as Cara immediately took a drink, followed by Toto, who raised his glass in acknowledgement. You blushed, raising your glass as well, drawing a teasing cheer from the group.

"Oh, you dark horse!" Cara teased, nudging you with an elbow.

You laughed, your eyes darting to Toto, who gave you a knowing look. You felt a shiver, although you weren’t sure if it was from the storm outside or the intensity of his gaze.

"My turn," said James, adjusting his glasses. "Never have I ever built a car engine from scratch."

George and John immediately took a drink, and to everyone's surprise, so did Toto. You watched as George and John fell into an animated discussion about the technicalities of engine building, oblivious to the rest of the group.

"Okay, my turn!" Toto's deep voice commanded. "Never have I ever climbed a mountain."

You hesitated, then took a drink, your mind flashing back to the hikes you'd gone on in various parts of the world. You felt Toto's eyes on you again and this time, he leaned in slightly.

"Which mountain?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

"Mount Kilimanjaro," you replied, "Last summer."

"Impressive," Toto murmured, his eyes twinkling.

George, finally noticing the exchange, put a protective arm around your shoulders. "She's quite the adventurer," he said proudly, though there was a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

You smiled weakly, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with frustration. The tension was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder and the yacht rocked slightly.

John, ever the loudmouth, cleared his throat. "Never have I ever kissed someone in the rain!" he bellowed, his eyes flicking to you and George suggestively.

You cringed inwardly, but before you could react, George took a drink. The group erupted in laughter and you forced a smile before taking a sip of your own, trying to push away the unease gnawing at you.

As the game continued, you found yourself stealing glances at Toto more often. He still seemed distracted by the storm raging but every so often would catch your eye.

Finally, it was your turn. You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness. "Never have I ever... done the dirty in a car.” You sipped your wine as George eyed you curiously. If you’d had sex in a car, it hadn’t been with him.

The room went silent for a moment, the only sound the steady drum of rain against the windows. Your heart pounded as you watched James and Cara take a drink, grinning knowingly at each other, and then Toto, with a small smirk, following suit.

“Oof George,” exclaimed John loudly, “You’re letting the side down!”

“Well it sounds like she’s done it without me,” said George, nudging you gently, “Maybe one day.”

You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and excitement that your question had at least made the group laugh. The game went on, the questions getting racier as the group enjoyed more wine.

"Never have I ever accidentally walked in on my boss having sex in the garage." George sipped his drink, looking pointedly at Toto, his question leaving the group speechless.

Cara's jaw dropped, her wine glass nearly slipping from her hand in disbelief. Toto's suave facade cracked and his face grew flushed at this revelation. 

John, ever the joker, let out a nervous chuckle, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Well, that's one way to end the game in time for dinner!" he exclaimed, though his laughter sounded more like a strangled cough.

Meanwhile, George's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "I... I can't believe I just said that, sorry Toto, let’s never speak of this again," he stammered, his voice barely above a squeak.

You couldn't help but snicker, trying to stifle your laughter with a hand over your mouth. "Oh Toto," you managed to say between giggles, "There I was thinking you were a gentleman."

Toto cleared his throat, his expression a mix of amusement and embarrassment. "Well, that certainly took an unexpected turn," he remarked, "What can I say, I’m very passionate during a race weekend and my ex-wife was there."

With the room erupting into nervous laughter, the tension eased slightly, though the memory of George's shocking confession would undoubtedly linger in their minds for quite some time.

SUNDAY EVENING

By dinner time, the rain had intensified into a full-blown storm. The crew was visibly tense, monitoring the weather closely and Toto's normally calm demeanor was replaced with frustration as he directed the crew, his voice sharp.

"This shouldn't have happened," he muttered, glaring outside. "You should have seen this coming and moored for the night in Porto Cervo. It’s not good to be at sea in conditions like this."

His demeanour unsettled you. For the first time, you saw the more unpleasant side of the so-far charming Austrian. Of course, you knew from George’s workplace tales that Toto had a temper but you figured that it was one that only boiled over during race weekends if the team messed up. It served as a good reminder that for all of his faults, George was level-headed and didn’t ever take his anger out on others.

As the storm raged, the yacht began to rock violently, lightning flashing across the sky. The crew worked frantically to secure everything, but it was clear they were struggling. In a bid to ride out the storm, the group decided that the best thing to do would be for you all to retire to your respective quarters for the night.

Having settled into bed while George was in the bathroom, hearing the waves and rain crashing around you, you suddenly remembered that you had left your phone in the living area.

“George,” you called out, “I left my phone in the living area, I’m just going to go and get it.”

“Do you want me to go?” George said, poking his head out of the bathroom, “It’s hard to walk when the boat rocks.”

“It’s fine, it will only take two minutes,” you said, “I’ll be back before you’ve even brushed your teeth.”

“Be careful,” he called out as you made your way down the corridor, holding onto the wooden panelling to stay steady as the yacht lurched from side to side.

Sure enough, you reached the living area quickly and found your phone on the coffee table. Success!

Unfortunately less successful was the walk back to your cabin. You were just crossing the living area when the lights flickered and went out. The sudden darkness was disorienting and you heard a familiar voice swearing from a door to the left.

"Toto, is that you?" you called out.

"Yes," he replied, sounding frustrated. "The electronics are down. I heard glass breaking on the bridge."

Before you could respond, the yacht lurched again, more violently this time. "Get in here," he said, pulling you into the small storage cupboard alongside him. "We need to get low and hold on."

The space was cramped, and you found yourself pressed against him, his body solid and reassuring against yours. Suddenly aware that you were wearing only a thin cotton night dress, the intimacy of the situation wasn't lost on you, especially when you felt him shift awkwardly behind you.

"We'll be okay," he said, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he gently stroked your arm, "This yacht can handle storms."

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the warmth of his body against yours. The boat rocked again, and you instinctively pressed closer to him, shocked to find that he was aroused. The closeness, the heat of his body—it was overwhelming.

Just as you were starting to wonder what might happen next, the lights flickered back on. You pulled away, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. "We should get back," you said, your voice unsteady.

Toto nodded, looking equally flustered, awkwardly rearranging his shorts. Making your way back to your quarters, the tension between you was almost palpable, only broken when you encountered George walking up the corridor.

"Is everything okay?" George asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked from you to Toto.

"Yes," you said quickly. "The lights went off on my way back and then I bumped into Toto."

George's gaze lingered on Toto, suspicion and jealousy clear in his eyes. Bidding Toto goodnight, you retreated to your quarters, eager to drop off to sleep.

As you lay in bed that night, listening to the rain pounding against the windows, you knew you had to make a decision. The events of the past few days had shown you that your feelings for George weren't enough. And as much as it scared you, you couldn't stop thinking about Toto. What the future held, you didn't know, but you couldn't keep living a lie. Something had to change.

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[wanderingsoul6261]

Match has been Made

credit for gif goes to k-wame

james beaufort x reader

synopsis: Lydia plays matchmaker for James and her friend

Note: I have Jury Duty next week, so I want to try and get everything done before then, but if not, I will try to have most finished so that I can post them periodically through next week so that I can still provide y'all with content. I also want to start writing for other fandoms, such as Call of Duty, NCIS, Criminal Minds, Uncharted, etc) so if you are interested in more works, keep an eye out for those.

Not a big fan of this one honestly. Might delete it later and do a better version of it. Just didn't have any other ideas for it, so if anyone has a better way for this to have gone, let me know, and I will definitely consider redoing it after some of the others are completed.

Lydia wasn't as stupid as James and Y/N. Maybe stupid wasn't the right word, as oblivious seemed fitting, not that the two were stupid. Although, they were definitely oblivious. Lydia had wanted to strangle them both, considering how blind they were. James, staring all the time at Y/N, not thinking anyone would notice. Lydia definitely noticed. And then Y/N, not even noticing James looking at her and how long he would do so. Lydia also noticed that too. 

Many who also noticed had just thought that maybe Y/N wasn’t interested in him, but Lydia had taken to disagreeing. Y/N was a good friend of Lydia, and therefore, she was also a good friend of James. Y/N and James had initially butted heads quite often at the start of the friendship between the two girls, but over time, it had gradually stopped, and had actually turned into a playful teasing. 

Now, Lydia could tell James was smitten with Y/N just as much as she was smitten with him, and this had sparked Lydia’s plan into getting the two by themselves and admitting their feelings. 

Initially, it also meant getting their driver, Percy involved. He would have a large part to play in the plan, helping her get one or both of them to the Manor, hopefully when their parents were away on their upcoming business trip, and then leaving with Lydia. Percy and Lydia would then find something to pass a few hours by. Whether she went over to a friend’s house, or she treated Percy to a friendly night out for all his work done for the family. 

Percy was inclined to help, considering he too had noticed what was, or the lack of what was happening between James and Y/N. It didn’t matter how he spent the time afterwards. Him leaving the manor would then mean that neither James or Y/N had a way to leave. 

It was a sound plan, and Lydia knew that the probability of it working was high. 

—

“Hey! Y/N!” Y/N turned around at the sound of her name being called. Behind her, Lydia hurried over to her. She stopped, waiting for her friend to catch up so that they could walk side by side. “What are you doing tonight?” Lydia asked. Y/N shrugged. 

“Nothing really. Mom and dad are home but I don’t have anything planned with them. I was probably just going to watch some movies and call it an early night.” 

“Would you want to come over for a bit? Do some swimming. Maybe stay the night? Our parents are out of town for a few nights for a business trip.” Lydia had explained. 

“Who all is going to be there?” She had asked. 

“Just me and James, plus you. Figured the three of us could hang out without the suffocation of a party.” Lydia had explained. 

Y/N thought about it. Admittedly, getting out of the house for a little bit had seemed like a better idea. Lydia could tell she was contemplating it. The way Y/N tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek, some of the very few mannerisms she possessed that gave away when she was truly thinking about something told her so. Mannerisms that James had appeared to have fallen in love with. 

After several moments, and pausing in the hallway of Maxton, Y/N had given Lydia her answer. 

“Alright. I’ll come over.” 

“Cool! I’ll have Percy pick you up at about 5!” Y/N agreed, telling her that that worked for her, and left her friend behind so that she could move on to her next class, which she also shared with James. 

Lydia watched as Y/N met up with James outside of their next class, a smirk on her face, and then left quickly, before either of them noticed that she was watching. 

“Hey.” James smiled at Y/N as they walked into the classroom. “So did Lydia talk to you yet?” He asked, as they set their stuff down on the shared desk and took their respective seats. “Something about just us three. Swimming. Maybe some movies. Something like that.” 

“Yea, actually. Just before I came here. I told her that I should be free to come over. She said she would send Percy later to come get me.” 

“What about your driver?” 

“Sick. I gave them a few days off.” Y/N flipped through her notes, trying to find where she left off. James watched as she did so, his eyes on her fingers as they flipped through the pages, before he turned his attention to her face. She was concentrated, focused on trying to find where she left off in her note taking. 

“What time did she tell you?” 

“Percy will be at my place at five.” He nodded slightly as she finally looked up at him. “She said I could also potentially stay the night. Mentioned something about how your parents are out of town for a business trip?” 

“Yea. Meetings with potential business partners for their next clothing line.” He explained. “They will be gone most of the week.” She nodded in understanding. James flashed her a smile, one that she had returned as their professor walked in, introducing their topic for the day.

—

Percy was a few minutes early, rolling the car in the driveway of her family manor at about quarter to five. Stepping out of the car, he greeted her politely, flashing her a small smile as she advanced over to the car. 

“Good evening, Percy.” She flashed a smile back at him, thanking him as he opened the back door for her. He had taken her overnight bag, putting it in the trunk of the car. 

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. I hope you are well.” 

“I am. Thank you. I hope Lydia and James are treating you well.” She teased. He flashed her a smile of amusement as another voice rang out, just as she climbed into the vehicle. 

“We are treating him just fine.” Y/N was met face to face by James, who flashed her an amused smile as she took her seat next to him. The door closed and the two flashed each other a smile. 

“Miss me?” she asked. Percy climbed into the driver side seat, putting the car into drive and taking the three of them back to the Beaufort manor. James smiled brightly at her.

“Always.” 

Percy watched them from the rearview mirror, taking in the interactions to the two of them. Lydia had been right, about the way the two of them look at each other. The way James looked at her when she was talking, like he wanted to take in everything she was saying and have it memorized. The way Y/N watched as he drew in his sketchbook or the way he watched her as she watched the numerous trees and other flora as they drove. Lydia was right when she told Percy all those days ago about how oblivious they were. The emotions in their faces surely show how they feel about the other, but both are too oblivious to say or do anything.  He smirked, turning his eyes back on the road. 

Arriving at the manor, Percy had stayed with the car, while James and Y/N had gotten out. James took her bag inside, handing it to another person to take to Lydia's room, where she would likely be sleeping. 

Lydia was already outside at the pool when the two finally joined her. She looked up and back at them, a smile on her face. Standing up from where she was dipping her toes into the pool, she walked over to them. She bypassed James, who only playfully rolled his eyes as she hugged Y/N. 

“Glad you can make it. You guys enjoy the water and snacks. I’m going to go and get changed. Be back in a jiffy.” And with that, Lydia was gone. James, who was already wearing some swim trunks with a t-shirt when they picked up Y/N, had taken off his shirt, leaving Y/N the only one who had yet to show her swimsuit. 

Her eyes were on James body for several seconds and had stayed focused on him for several more seconds after he had jumped into the pool.

Y/N had been smart, having put her swimsuit on underneath her clothes before Percy and James arrived at her home. She had slipped off her shirt, exposing her skin and the bikini top that she wore. James had caught sight, his eyes on her before he dipped underneath the water before she could catch him staring. When he had come back up, she had already pulled her shorts off, fully revealing herself in her two-piece bikini. 

While James slowly swam around the perimeter of the pool, Y/N relaxed on a floaty, drifting around the pool. The two relaxed like that for a little bit until one of them realized that one of them was still missing. 

“James.” He had looked over at Y/N, who now sat on the end of the pool, a water bottle in her hand. 

“Hmm?” 

“Did Lydia come out at all?” She asked. “I would have figured that she would be out here by now.” James stopped swimming, moving to stand in the shallow end of the pool. He looked past her, towards the open doors that led into the house. 

“No I haven’t.” He finally answered. His eyes drifted back towards Y/N, where some droplets of water rolled down her stomach. Her hair was wet, meaning that she had slipped into the water at some point and he didn’t notice. She tilted her head in thought, turning her body around as well to look inside the house. 

James watched as she stood up and walked over to the chairs. She didn’t find any sign that Lydia might have even been there in the first place, and no phone was found. 

“Her phone isn’t here. Maybe she has it. I can give her a call.” Y/N walked back over to her own phone, picked it up, and easily dialed Lydia’s number. James watched as she pressed her phone to her ear, but after several seconds, put her phone back down. “No answer.” 

“She’s probably okay. Probably just got caught up doing something else. Maybe she’s taking a nap so she can conserve energy for movies later.” James reassured her, and Y/N agreed. James wasn’t sure where his sister went, and it definitely wasn’t a part of their plans. 

Unless it was a part of her plans. 

Y/N shrugged and had gone back to sit on the side of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. James went back to floating around the pool. His eyes moved over to Y/N several times. They were alone and she was right there. He could say what he wanted and make his move. If he was rejected, no one would know. 

Her eyes were on the book she was reading, invested in the pages and the words that told the story within them. He hovered in the water for several moments before he finally decided to slowly make his way across the pool. 

His eyes had remained on her, watching her movements as he neared her. The way her fingers flipped to the next page. How her expression changed based on the scene she was reading. He was happy to listen to her when she went on and on about a book that was either currently reading or had just finished, having loved the way that she got so much joy and excitement from something so simple. 

When he finally reached her, his hand reached out for the book, gently setting it aside without getting it wet. Y/N was confused, a noise getting caught in the back of her throat as James put his palm on the edge of the pool, hoisting himself partially out of the water and slightly closer to her. He made eye contact with her, before he looked down at her lips. She caught the movement, relaxing as she waited. She knew what he wanted at that moment, and when he didn’t make the move first, she did. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more closer, and pressed her lips against his. He quickly melted into it, one arm wrapping around her waist. James tugged her into the pool once more, before pinning her against the side of it. Her arms remained around his neck, while his arms looped behind her, settling the edge of the pool. 

It was a slow and gentle kiss, allowing the two to enjoy and savor it. Her hands tangled themselves into his hair, and one of his hands moved to her back, his fingers splayed across her skin. James was running out of breath, as was Y/N, but the two hesitated to separate, as both of them seemed to have wanted their first kiss together to go on longer than what was physically possible. 

And when they finally pulled away from each other, they rested their foreheads against each others, breathing heavily, a small smile on their lips. 

“Do you think Lydia left?” Y/N asked. 

“I think this was part of her plan.” James agreed. “Get us alone together. Means Percy was probably also in on it.”  Y/N laughed a little. 

“You sister, playing matchmaker, and Percy helping. Who knew.”

“My guess is that they knew something we didn’t.” He had smiled, kissing her again, this time with a bit more energy. James had stared at her lips, before moving away and planting kisses along her jaw, pressed one final one to her forehead, and then moved back down to her lips. He was kissing her like a man starved of it all.  

“How about we watch those movies?” He finally asked, after finding the heart to stop kissing Y/N and finally allowing her to breathe. She gave him a smile and nodded. 

That was how Lydia had found the two of them. They were laying on the couch in the shared living area that Lydia and James shared, the tv going on in the background. James was on his back, his head against the arm of the couch, and Y/N was asleep on his chest. Her arms wrapped around James, and a blanket was wrapped around her. 

Lydia had smirked, snapped a photo to show Percy that the plan had worked, and wandered off to get ready for bed, leaving the two by themselves.

----

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