#baby cove makes a friend

[differenteagletragedy]

Oh! What if mc was a mermaid and Cove found them lying on the beach one day?.

Cove practically stomped down the path towards the beach, one little hand clenched in a fist and the other, the hand attached to the arm in the pink cast, swinging uselessly.

He hated this stupid town. He hated his house. He hated being away from home and away from his mom. He would never say that he hated his dad, but he wasn't too happy with him, that was for sure.

With his arm broken, he couldn't even swim in the ocean -- a whole summer without being able to swim. Still, he made his way to the shore as fast as he could.

Maybe he could find some cool seashells, he thought. Or maybe he'd finally see a shark tooth.

Deep down, he knew the likelihood of finding a shark tooth wasn't that great. But what he couldn't have imagined is that what he would find was way, way cooler.

As soon as he topped the hill that looked over the beach, he saw it. Or rather, he saw you -- a real live mermaid.

Cove stood still for a moment, barely even breathing, trying to understand what he was looking at. He took off his glasses and wiped them against his shirt, then shoved them back on his face and looked again.

Yep. Still there.

He took off towards you, and that's when you noticed him.

"Hi," you said brightly, waving a hand his way. "A little help please?"

When he got closer, he saw that you weren't just a mermaid with a pretty tail, blues and greens blending into each other, but you were a little kid mermaid. He didn't know if he knew that was a thing, but obviously it was, and that was even more exciting.

"Could you help me, please?" you asked again, flipping your tail to get his attention.

"Yeah," he finally said. "What do you need?"

"Back in the water."

"Ok," Cove answered. "What do I do?"

You held up your hands and looked out to the ocean. He nodded, grabbing them, and started scooting you down until he was up to his ankles, the waves splashing up on his legs, strong enough to pull you back to where you belonged.

"Thanks," you told him, offering him a smile that he readily returned.

"What were you doing up there anyway?" he asked. He didn't make a move to get to drier land, and you were fine there in the shallows.

"I was looking for seashells," you explained. "The best ones are up there. i got stuck."

Cove nodded like that was an entirely understandable predicament, not like he was standing in the ocean talking to a mermaid. He was happy to have been able to help you, and he told you as much.

"Do you come up here a lot?" he asked next. "Up to the shore I mean."

"Yeah, when I can," you answered. "Do you come down here a lot?"

"When I can," he replied. He didn't have the words for it then, but what he was trying to be was smooth.

"Maybe we can play together sometimes," you suggested.

For the first time since he'd moved to Sunset Bird, Cove smiled.

"Yeah, that would be fun."

You talked for a little longer, neither of you really wanting to go, but eventually the evening started turning into night, and Cove heard his father calling for him nearby.

"I have to go," he told you. "But I can hang out tomorrow if you want."

When plans were made to meet again, this time earlier so you'd have plenty of time to play, Cove turned around and started heading back toward the neighborhood.

Maybe this new town wouldn't be so bad after all.

[witchywithwhiskey]

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away. 

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk. 

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in. 

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on. 

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away. 

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway. 

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure. 

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit. 

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove. 

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders. 

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice. 

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with. 

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become. 

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home. 

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized. 

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last. 

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life. 

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore. 

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears. 

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee. 

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else. 

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger. 

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes. 

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans. 

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone. 

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing. 

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore. 

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time. 

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions. 

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder. 

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun. 

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes. 

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line. 

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? 

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. 

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well. 

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs. 

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup. 

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove. 

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve. 

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk. 

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists. 

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor. 

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions. 

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.” 

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life. 

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you. 

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.” 

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life. 

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town. 

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet. 

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark. 

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest. 

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?” 

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.” 

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.” 

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.” 

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window. 

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it. 

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his. 

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.” 

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper. 

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument. 

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You��d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together. 

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together. 

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer. 

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.” 

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat. 

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.  

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans. 

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning. 

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone. 

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you. 

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname. 

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself. 

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths. 

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.” 

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap. 

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.” 

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near. 

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.” 

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face. 

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand. 

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine. 

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body. 

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door. 

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus. 

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”  

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. 

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself. 

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

[edenesth]

[9:15 PM]

"Oh my god, that guy is totally your type!" a girl squealed, nudging her friend to look at the gorgeous man across the street.

Her friend giggled, shushing her, "You're right, but stop being so obvious! He's gonna think we're weird!"

"I doubt it. If anything, I think he's already got his eyes on you," she replied, nodding towards him. And she was right—he was looking in her friend's direction, a charming smile on his face as he bit his lip shyly. "Will you go talk to him?"

"I-I mean, I don't know..."

Oh god, I don't need this right now.

You rolled your eyes, eavesdropping on the conversation in front of you. Typical young girls. The light had turned green, and they were still busy debating whether to approach the tall, handsome guy across the street. "Excuse me. Last I checked, your father doesn't own the road. If you're not planning to move, please step aside. Some of us have places to be," you grumbled, pushing past them.

One of them scoffed, annoyed. "Ugh, whatever! Keep that attitude, and no man will ever want you, lady!"

You snorted, nodding sarcastically. "Yes, thank you. I definitely need advice from delusional little girls like you."

"Wha—delusional?! Who do you think you're calling delusional…" Her words trailed off as she watched you walk straight into the welcoming arms of the dreamy guy they had been ogling moments ago. The realisation hit, and embarrassment washed over them. That man had been looking at you all along, not at either of them.

Your boyfriend chuckled, holding you close and kissing your head. "Oh my love, you're so cute when you're annoyed. Did you really have to call them out like that, hm? They would've realised I was yours by the time you got here anyway."

You huffed. "I'd like to see you be so graceful if you heard two guys talking about me the way they just did about you."

He grinned, squeezing you tighter. "Oh baby, you know damn well that I can handle it."

Pulling away slightly, you glared up at him, irritated because he was right and you knew it. This annoyingly perfect man. "I do, and I hate that you're right." He laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a loving kiss. "Oh come on, you know you love it."

"I do love it... love you, Yuyu."

He softened. "I love you too, baby."

Biting your lip, you cupped his face. "Tell me, my wonderful amazing boyfriend... are those two still watching?"

"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes. "Were you just trying to show off and make them jealous? They left as soon as they realised what was happening."

You groaned, pushing him away and starting your walk back to your shared home. "Ugh, you're telling me we did all that and no one even enjoyed the show?"

He gasped. "A show?! Come here, you—"

Little did you know, that was a lie. The girls were still watching enviously as he chased after you, your shrieks echoing across the quiet streets on a Wednesday night as he tickled your face with endless kisses as playful punishment.

Damn, I guess we were quite delusional...

ATEEZ Masterlist

Look what you did to me, @itstheghostofmypast, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Yuyu lately and it's all your fault🙈💕besides that, man's been looking mighty fine lately, it's hella annoying.

Hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp HAHA and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[jgracie]

SUMMERTIME, AND THE LIVIN'S EASY

masterlist | rules

❝ Can you please write an image with Percy where he’s dating Thetis(Achilles mom)daughter and he’s helping her with her water powers?And they kiss underwater?🥺🥺 ❞ — anon

in which percy teaches you how to use your powers (but you just really want to kiss him)

pairing percy jackson x thetis!reader

warnings none!!

When you first showed up at camp, Percy couldn’t help but feel a little competitive. Water was his thing. Whenever you needed any help with any sort of body of water, he was your guy! Your only guy! Because no one else at camp was as efficient with water as he is, since it is his father’s domain

Until you came along - a daughter of Thetis, the Goddess of water. Immediately, everyone was enamoured by you and your charms, telling you all about Greek mythology, with the first story you heard being of your half-brother Achilles. No one had cared to educate Percy that much. It didn’t help that you could talk to sea animals too. Everyday, whenever Percy would go to the beach, all the turtles and fish and hippocampi would tell him stories of your kindness. My lord, she helped us fix our cove today! My lord, she healed my broken fin! Percy was sick of it all

Secretly, however, he was intrigued by you too. You carried an ethereal aura wherever you went and your voice was reminiscent of the feeling of gentle waves rolling over Percy’s body on one of his late afternoon swims, the beach empty save for him and the sea creatures, who knew better than to disrupt him during his moment of peace

Besides, he did kind of want someone to talk to who was as connected to the ocean as he is. So he put his one-sided rivalry aside and decided to speak to you, quickly discovering that you actually weren’t very good at using your water powers. You could use them, of course, but it was never controlled and drained you quickly. So naturally, being the kind guy he is, Percy offered to help you hone your powers. Totally because he’s nice and not because you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever met and he would rather die than pass up an opportunity to be around you

The two of you would meet at the beach when all the activities of the day were over and Percy would teach you about the water and all it has to offer. During one of your first lessons, Percy discovered you could will your legs to join and turn into a tail - making you a mermaid. He’d never seen something more bewitching in his life. He was also a little jealous, since he couldn’t turn into a merman, but watching you glimmer under the golden sun as you swam around with your tail had him forgetting all about that

Eventually, the two of you realised you felt the same about each other and began to date. The lessons never stopped, of course, but now you could say the cute boy who was training you’s your boyfriend and not just your friend

“Okay baby, this is the goal for today,” Percy said as he lifted a giant ball of water from the sea and made it hover in the air, letting you observe for a second before letting go of it. You nodded, biting your lip as you made your way over to him. Usually, you were pretty focused during your lessons. You could kiss Percy whenever you wanted, so it could wait until after you’d learnt a new skill, right?

Today was different. Something about how his toned body moved effortlessly through the water, as if he were a part of it himself, made your face turn incredibly hot, the veins coursing through his arms - accentuated by the strain he was putting on his body - doing nothing to cool you down 

You started off by making smaller balls of water float - something you’d recently become very good at. When Percy cheered you on, placing a kiss on your forehead and mumbling about how proud he was of you, you couldn’t help but wish he’d move his lips just a little lower as you licked yours

Making space for you, Percy waded through the water backwards as he said, “you’ve got this! Don’t be afraid to stop or let me know if it’s too much!” He grinned, and your heartbeat got faster and faster at how caring he was. No one was more thoughtful than your lovely, sweet boyfriend who you desperately wanted to shower with an insane amount of affection right now

In theory, the task was easy. You knew you’d be able to do it if you just weren’t distracted. You were no longer the girl who’d have to fight the urge to pass out after using her powers once, your body now being able to withstand much more, but your heart just wasn’t in what you were doing

Percy noticed this. At first, he thought something was wrong. Did something happen today to dampen your mood? Just as he was about to ask, he noticed it. The way your eyes would linger on his arms, moving up to his chest and finally to his lips. He smirked once he realised, your adoration for him quickly inflating his ego

He was going to let you wait a little longer, curious to see if you’d say something or just tough it out, but after catching your cute, desperate stare a fifth time in a row, your tail glittering as it swished under the water, he knew he was a goner

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to breathe underwater?” He asked, catching you off guard. You made a face between confusion and offence, your brows clearly screaming ‘of course I do, you idiot’  

“I mean, yeah, obviously. Why?” You asked, inching closer and closer to him, craving nothing more than his saccharine touch - always as sticky as honey, his hands never failed to linger, making sure you knew you were appreciated. They did that now, their warmth making its way to your soul as Percy gently caressed your arms

Then, he pulled you underwater. He gave the nosy sea animals glares that sent them away, making the seabed yours for the time being. He cradled the back of your head and pulled you closer and closer, your hands pressed to his chest and your mouth parted, the anticipation nearly killing you

There was about a centimetre of space between you now

“Consider this revision, kay?” He whispered before finally locking his lips with yours

[the-californicationist]

✨Masterlist✨

This is the masterlist for The Californicationist's Tumblr & AO3 texts.

All works should be considered 18+ only. MDNI - no exceptions.

CALL OF DUTY

Novel-Length Works

Gunslinger Price/Reader - AO3 - 100k - Complete You open your home as a safehouse for the 141, and your relationship with John Price unfolds into an epic love story.

Guardian Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 45k - Complete Konig, inexplicably working with SpecGru, clears out a Konni base and finds a hostage with amnesia, only to fall hopelessly in love with her.

Guile & Guilt Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - Complete Your best friend has warned you to stay far, far away from her younger brother — infamous party boy, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish. However, when she asks you to be her maid of honor in her wedding, you and Johnny end up closer than you ever expected.

The Sin-Eater Price/Reader - Co-Author: @vampirekilmer - AO3 - WIP Captain John Price is a loving husband, a dedicated soldier, and a good man. But, that’s not all he is. Underneath his controlled exterior lurks something dark, something hungry, and something wholly inhuman. You’re his only solace during his wrath, and only you can consume the sin from his shifts.

One-Shot Works

Gauntlet (Kinktober 2023) [External Post] Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 58k - Complete TW: too many to list here 😈 A collection of 30 kink-focused one-shots

Budapest Price/Reader - AO3 - 1.2k - Complete TW: major character death, explicit sex Captain John Price comes home to you a changed man.

Going Home Gaz/Nova - AO3 - 4.3k - Complete TW: explicit sex, voyeurism Gaz and Nova spend their leave together at his childhood home. This is set in the Gunslinger universe.

Gravitational Shift Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2k - Complete TW: Space AU, includes the Force from the Star Wars fandom, force-bond sex Captain Price senses a disturbance in the force, and when he bonds with her, he decides he's never letting go.

Ground & Pound Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 5.8k - Complete TW: NC/CNC, bondage, violence Konig's ex-girlfriend shows up to the base, and Konig loses his absolute mind over her...and takes things too far.

Growl Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: pegging, femdom When you agreed to come over to John Price’s house for drinks, you had no idea it would escalate so damn swiftly.

The Orchard Price/Reader - AO3/Tumbr - 3.8k - Complete TW: CNC, primal play, bondage John Price chases you through the woods to make sure you learn your lesson.

The Fisherman's Knot Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2.9k - Complete ABO AU - Captain John Price rescues a pretty Alpha from a kayaking accident in his fishing cove, his body betrays his gentle nature.

The Honest Man Mace/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: Breeding kink Mace tries to convince you to build a life with him again, especially if it means adding another baby into the mix.

The Missed Deadline Gaz/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.7k - Complete TW: Virginity loss You and Kyle had a virginity pact.

The Fourth of July Alex Keller/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3.5k - Complete TW: Blow job You and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.

The Fox & the Hound Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.5k - WIP(?) TW: Literal porn, exhibition Your first porno shoot doesn't go exactly to plan. Your co-star, Johnny "Dangerous" MacTavish, sets his sights on you and makes you his personal project. (Labeled WIP because I'm considering a Chapter 02 moment).

The Green Light Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.8k - Complete TW: Dubcon/CNC John Price comes home with only one thing on his mind: you and those bright green panties. Even though you're sound asleep, he just can't stop himself.

The Dealer’s Choice 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.4k - Complete TW: Gangbang The 141 are stranded and you’re the safe house manager. You have fun playing strip poker.

The Simple Mistake Ghost/Soap - AO3 - 1.4k - Complete Soap and Ghost have to hide together, injured and desperate in a shelter until their rescue party arrives.

The Devil's Summer Konig/Named Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3k - Complete TW: Rape, non-consent, assault, corpses, violence, named reader A tall, foreign stranger comes to town with his masked crew of bandits. They rob the train station and the bank, but the big one… he has his sights set on a different sort of prize: you.

The Advent Calendar Ghost/Soap - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete Soap gave Ghost an advent calendar this year. It's a little more romantic than he realized.

The False Alarm 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete TW: Gangbang Cleaning the pole in the firehouse was hard work, but someone had to do it. But, when your harness broke and you were left dangling there, free to use for a firehouse full of men… you were in charge of cleaning a lot more poles than you bargained for.

There’s more, but I ran out of room! I’m trying to figure out how to fix it. Sorry 😣

[buckrecs]

2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 4

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - updating

All Of Them are COMPLETED Series

1. Finding Home by @jobean12-blog

Bucky x Reader Animal Rescue AU

You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider.  But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home. 

2. Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

3. Winter Makes Ice by @subwaysurf45

Bucky x Hydra Experiment!Reader

you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

4. ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier

College Hockey Player!Bucky x College Figure Skater!Reader

Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

5. Right + Click + Save by @syntheticavenger

Bucky x Reader

Working from home has it’s perks, especially when it comes to helping a technologically unsavvy super soldier try to navigate a dating site.

6. Lonely Night by @marvelouslizzie

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

7. Like Breathing by @bucky-fricking-barnes

Bucky x Shifter!Reader

Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.

8. Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

9. Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum

Bucky x Reader

You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention. 

[redlittlefoxari]

Master List for Astarion Epilogue: An Adventure in making Life

Astarion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making a Life (Pregnancy Fic) NSFW 18+, SMUT, Fluff, Angst, Blood, Violence, Pregnant Tav

Chapter One: A Night of Passion

Chapter Two: In sickness and in health

Chapter Three: All the Stars in the Sky

Chapter Four: Words from a Wizzard

Chapter Five: Together Again

Chapter six: On The Road With Secrets

Chapter Seven: Let The Water Wash You Clean

Chapter Eight: In too Deep in Waterdeep

Chapter Nine: Secrets Don’t Make Friends

Chapter Ten: Little White Dress

Chapter Eleven: Caught in the Sun

Chapter Twelve: Waterdeep's Most Wanted

Chapter Thirteen: Fight or Flight

Chapter Fourteen: Somethings Missing

Chapter Fifteen: Second Thoughts

Chapter Sixteen: Blood in the Woods

Chapter Seventeen: To the Grove Again

Chapter Eighteen: So Close

Chapter Nineteen: Feral

Chapter Twenty: Fight for Life

Chapter Twenty-One: It's a Nice Day for a Wedding

Chapter Twenty-Two: Light to Dark

Chapter Twenty-Three: Into The Drak

Chapter Twenty-Four: Family Reunion

Chapter Twenty-Five: Jelouse

Chapter Twenty-Six: Changes

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Bed Rest

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Apple Knocking

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Once Upon a Dream

Chapter Thirty: When The Dawn Breaks

Chapter Thirty-One: The Vampire of Serpents Cove

Chapter Thirty-Two: Comfortable

Chapter Thirty- Three: A Mother's Love

Chapter Thirty- Four: Don't Drop the Baby

Chapter Thirty- Five: Out of the Nest

Chapter Thirty- Six: Stolen Sun

Chapter Thirty- Seven: Cry About It

Chapter Thirty- Eight: A Father's nightmare and a Father's Rage

Chapter Thirty- Nine: Down in the Dark

Chapter Forty: Beaten, Bloody, and Beautiful

Chapter Forty-One: Home

Chapter Forty- Two: Asteria

[mistyscenter]

What's frustrating about being someone who's critical of Baxter's character is that people constantly baby him and think this man happens to be the background character of his story due of outside forces beyond his control...when no, he does that to himself. He's the one telling himself he can never be someone important in someone's life, he gives himself the status of "just being a suitor for a season" "just a wedding planner" "just a friend" "just a tourist" HE DOES THAT TO HIMSELF, THAT'S WHY THE WAY HE LEAVES IS SO HEARTBREAKING

he's the one telling MC that there's no point in keeping a relationships because "you've only known me for 3 months we don't know much about each other, what's the point of keeping up this relationship" when every other normal person would just...stay in contact. THIS IS HIS DOING HE'S DOING IT TO HIMSELF WHEN MC MIGHT NOT WANT THAT, AND IS SO FRUSTRATING HOW PEOPLE ARE MAKING IT SEEM LIKE HE'S SOME VICTIM AS IF HE DIDN'T DO IT TO HIMSELF AND HE KNOWS HE DID THAT TO HIMSELF

This part is especially frustrating if you are dating Cove and earlier in the game he hoped you guys never break up. Not only that but what if your MC is someone who was worrying about the future and what that meant for their already established relationships? He just confirmed to them that fear, and you can do a lot narrative wise with that and I like it that's not at all an issue is just...is the way he's often depicted as someone innocent who didn't mean to do all of this damage when he was aware he would have done this damage. He knew from the start he would do that to himself, because that's his character. Baxter is hard on himself because of that he has self sabotaging tendencies and he keeps his relationships at arm length.

[sugar-omi]

Ohhh the newest dad cove post the pregnant mc is so so good,,,,, rip though imagine just how clingy this makes him oh my god. (late riser mc) he’s constantly falling asleep on the couch next to you when it gets later, hand on your back or around your middle whether you’re showing yet or not because he can’t stand the idea of you needing something but not waking him up ‘cause he’s in bed(especially when you have bad “morning” sickness).

or something that absolutely makes my blood pressure absolutely skyrocket is strangers being touchy, (he’d obviously not be like? weird about it like if you want to let family or friends feel the baby kick; he’s honestly just nodding along with the biggest goofy-proud smile like “it’s the coolest thing ever right???”) but if random strangers are getting touchy or pushy because they seem to think pregnant people are free real estate? just this big ass man getting physically between the two of you and completely shutting them down without a word? 1000/10.

also rip mc but I myself am a Cove suprise twins truther and not gonna lie to anyone but unless you are well above average size? rip mc. late second trimester and on is just a mess because like the other post said? all fun and games having a giant husband until giant baby time. man is so conflicted(for a multitude of reasons tbh because if one baby almost being here wasn’t overwhelming enough? two?) because on the one hand there’s almost a twinge of guilt because you’re so sore and tired and sick of having to pee every five seconds, but also, not even a sexual(or maybe just a little) thing but some part of his brain is like you said just? that’s his baby- his babies, like it hits him so much that you are literally carrying his kids that you two made together and you trust him enough to be by your side and be your kids’ dad?? and sometimes he’s looking at you with big wet eyes and wobbly lips while you’re trying to hunt down the current craving and you panic that he’s crying, and when he explains… oh now you’re crying because of hormones being out of wack and he’s too sweet for this.

I LOVE YOU ANON. WE ARE THE SAME. literally sharing all my thoughts rn pls... i love the thought of my mc n cove having 1 kid (thru adoption) and their first pregnancy/baby being twins. just instantly throws them into the boiling pot of parenthood

n omg he's so fucking clingy after you get pregnant. if you're not a hugger, you are now. because he needs to be around you n touching you, he fucking loves you so much and just needs to touch n kiss n hold you

omfg, tries to feel the baby kick or anything like that before it's even possible. instantly starts talking to your baby before they're even supposed to be able to hear

if you're still sleeping, or napping, he'll cuddle up near your stomach and strokes the area, tracing hearts and stars and such, talking about how much he loves you. how great you are. tells funny stories from your shared childhood, tells your baby/babies about their future aunts n uncles n grandparents.

they're gonna be so loved.

n if you wake up in the middle of him doing this, try to stay still and listen because then he goes on about how much he loves the babe/s and how he's gonna take care of them, and you, and he'll protect n love them n he daydreams out loud about all the milestones, all the way up to their weddings which just makes him cry

you might even catch him rambling about how he'll make sure they never feel insecure, or like a burden, or anything like that, especially any feelings or thoughts he had from his childhood.

and yeahh, he'd be so overwhelmed and freaked out if your first pregnancy is TWINS!! he gets anxious. because now there's a double chance of failure. he's just so afraid for your future, and even if you're anxious and afraid too now with the news, he does calm down even if you don't comfort him.

bouncing your anxieties off each other, makes him realize you're both going towards a good path. if you're already worried about X, Y, and Z, then you know you're on the same page, and while parenthood is unpredictable.. your beliefs and wishes for your family are certain

takes a deep breath n just promises you it'll be okay. you'll figure it out. you can worry through parenthood together. and you'll figure it out together.

does call his dad and he talks to cove, helps him with his anxieties, etc.. it helps him relax when cliff says that, while cove was a very happy accident, at least he's prepared unlike he and kyra were. this was something you wanted, prepared for. that all the mental preparation, is the best it'll get and now you have to figure it out together, and that he, kyra, and your moms are here to help you figure it out.

n omg cove feeling bad about you being sore, tired, exhausted from the baby totally rearranging your guts and pressing against your bladder like a meat press.

always offers you massages, foot rubs. and helps you do any maintenance, like helping you shave or doing your names, put on lotion, etc. since your stomach is getting too big to work around

helps you put on your shoes if you need, too. he brings you all the snacks (ends up trying your cravings too. in fact, HE has cravings n now both of you are scrambling for the car and end up sitting in the parking lot eating whatever weird combo one of you thought of)

and you're so right about him finding you attractive when you're pregnant, not necessarily sexual like you said although it has undertones. in fact, since we're talking about it. it's kinda like they're satisfied they made their mark on you LOL

which in that case... cove probably doesn't even realize how.. happy. he is. that whenever you leave the house, people can easily see you have someone at home waiting for you. that you're taken.

literally read an article about men's thoughts on their pregnant wives, and they're so interesting (can't get over the guy saying ["my wife still doesn't believe i found her sexy during her pregnancy. i saw what a baby did to her and it just made me want to fill her with more."])

n their increased attraction all seems to come back to their wife carrying their baby, and their body getting bigger. not even just her boobs and butt, loves how her tummy gets bigger during the pregnancy, loves the stretches marks because it's a sign of the hard work she did carrying their baby

he just loves everything about you. loves your glow, your scent, your whole look.

also like i said before, pregnancy just kinda flipped a primal switch in cove's brain. happens to pretty much every man on the planet. loves when you ask him for help because you're too pregnant to do it. or if you call him "daddy", "papa" or something along those lines, just messing with him (same way guys will call you "mama"), he has to grip the counter n take a minute because omfg... he's a dad. he's your babies dad. even if you don't call him that, has to take a breather if you bring him up like that.

is so fucking ecstatic about you calling him your babies father that he will probably fall on the floor crying n throwing up like. he's insane.

ohhh and he'd just be at your beck and call the further along you get. imagine him with his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder, just keeping you secure in his grip as you cross the road.

just becomes so much more protective. subtly of course, not overboard like growling n hissing but yknow he keeps you close, keeps an eye out.. etc.

oh and you're so right about him putting himself between you n touchy stranger number 8123901. even if you tell him it's okay, he still checks you out to see if you're uncomfortable.

but lets be real, i can't see many daring to get handsy and pushy with your over 6 foot, somewhere 'round 200lbs, husband next to you. that'd just be stupid.

so don't be afraid to just drag him to the store to be your shield LOL

still, even though he relaxes a bit as your pregnancy progresses and to strangers, he seems pretty relaxed and cool n all that. does go home with you and can't help but cry because you look so cute, and your family is increasing, n it's just all so much. he's a big baby still

[avionvadion]

Step One: Eleanora and Cove!

She's eight like Jamie and Cove, but unlike Jamie and Lizzie she wasn't adopted as a baby. The Moms adopted her when she was five-ish. As a result, Shiloh kinda ended up making her the "target" of isolation instead of Jamie, but she didn't really care since she was used to being alone. It isn't until meeting Cove that El realizes how lonely she actually is, and does really want a friend. She started off as indifferent, but when he didn't ditch her for Lizzie or Jamie at the playground like Shiloh always does she starts getting attached and growing fond of him.

She ends up favoring forget-me-nots because of the blanket Noelani and Pamela picked out for her, and takes her teddy bear with her everywhere in the house before tucking it in her room safely in her bed if she has to go outside.

(Noelani picked out the quilted blanket, but Pamela chose the bear.)

Eleanora is very insecure, but also very honest. She doesn't like keeping secrets if they have the potential to be harmful. She's repressed a lot of her emotions, not knowing how to process everything before and after the adoption so being around crybaby Cove ends up encouraging her to start letting said emotions show, and as it turns out... she's sort of a crybaby herself, lol.

Most of her memories of before being found by Pamela and Noelani have been repressed, to the point where she blatantly claims she doesn't remember anything. And she doesn't. It isn't until Cove pulls the disappearing act that some unsavory memories rise to the surface, and she remembers how she met Pamela and Noelani in the first place.

[featherandferns]

book shelf

* - contains sexual content (MDNI)

series

daylight

jj maybank x fem!reader | new to Kildare from Vancouver, Canada, you befriend JJ Maybank. Your life in Vancouver, and the things you went through, make it hard to face the unspoken feelings the two of you share.

prologue - 0.5k. words | content warnings: none

part one - 3.5k. words | content warnings: none

part two - 3k. words | content warnings: alcohol, mentions of sex

part three - 2k. words | content warnings: alcohol

part four - 1.6k. words | content warnings: mentions of sex

part five - 3k. words | content warnings: sex, alcohol

part six - 2k. words | content warnings: sexual content

part seven - 2.7k. words | content warnings: none

part eight - 2.5k. words | content warnings: sexual content; drug use (weed)

part nine - 3.9k. words | content warnings: mentions of sex; mentions of alcohol

part ten - 1.5k. words | content warnings: mentions of abuse and bereavement

part eleven - 1.8k. words | content warnings: mentions of sex

part twelve - 3.7k. words | content warnings: sexual content

epilogue - 1.6k. words | content warnings: mentions of sex; alcohol

multi-part one shots

F.W.B

jj maybank x fem!reader | fics which are part of the 'F.W.B' universe, the sequels can be read as stand alone fics but they make better sense in the context of the main fic.

F.W.B * - 9k. words

blurb: friends with benefits (phrase) - a friend with whom one has an occasional and casual sexual relationship; no feelings attached.

the night it all began * - 3k. words

blurb: JJ Maybank has some corny-ass pick-up lines, and can't seem to back down from a bet, but maybe you might just give him a try anyway. What's one night, after all?

you find out - 2k. words

blurb: you find out the truth about his tumultuous relationship with his dad.

outdoor pool * - 5k. words

blurb: your latest 'date night' involves breaking into a Kook's back garden to swim around in their pool. After fooling around, JJ comes to a realisation.

surfs up - 4k. words

blurb: you meet JJ's friends. whilst Kiara and Sarah grill you about your boyfriend, John B and Pope are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that you've managed to tie JJ down.

underneath the gloves - 7k. words

blurb: after you lose a match, things seem to spiral out of control. it seems to come to a head after a confrontation with Kelce, leaving you to confess to JJ why you sometimes are the way you are.

fascinating new thing

jj maybank x fem!kook!shy!reader | fics which are part of the 'fascinating new thing' universe; the sequels can be read as stand alone fics but they make better sense in the context of the main fic.

fascinating new thing - 18k. words

blurb: after your band plays a show at Kiara's parents' restaurant, you find yourself face to face with JJ Maybank. Shy and socially awkward, you fumble through, knowing that a guy like JJ would never want a thing to do with you, right?

angel * - 3k. words

blurb: JJ knows there's something hidden beneath all the layers of quiet and meek; he just has to coax it out of you.

'shut up' - 3k. words

blurb: it's been a month since the moment on the hammock. JJ calls you 'baby' like it's the most natural thing. But some things have been left unsaid? Maybe one night, at Pansy's, where things seemingly started, one of you will kick up the nerves...

first time JJ saw you drabble

pirates

jj maybank x fem!bestfriend!reader | fics which are part of the 'pirates' universe; the sequel can be read as stand alone fic but it makes better sense in the context of the main fic.

pirates - 9k. words

blurb: if you ever needed to find yourself or JJ Maybank, one would recommend you head to pirate's cove, no matter the age or day.

confessions *- 6k. words

blurb: now that you and JJ have crossed the lines from friends to lovers, you're ready to take the next step. It shouldn't be a problem, considering the womanizer JJ is, unless he's been confabulating the truth.

guilty as sin

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | a two part series, where part 2 only makes sense in context of part 1.

part 1 * - 14k. words

blurb: when you, John B's half sister, return to Kildare after over two years of living in Colorado, your adolescent crush that you harboured for his best friend comes screaming back. Because you and JJ can't be together in real life, what's the harm in a fantasy?

part 2 - 10k. words

blurb: you and JJ start a secret relationship under the radar of your half-brother, John B. But with your life in Colorado becoming more and more unavoidable, and stupid slip-ups as the two of you grow closer, it becomes harder to keep your affair secret.

risk

jj maybank x fem!kook!reader | fics which are part of the 'risk' universe; the sequel can be read as stand alone fics but may make better sense in the context of the main fic

risk *- 18k. words

blurb: after a hurricane, a Labrador shows up at JJ's house. After some posters go up around the country, JJ begrudgingly returns the dog to you on Figure Eight. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.

gamble (coming soon!)

one-shots

god's test * - 18k. words

blurb: what if the Pogues never found El Dorado? Life in survival mode at the age of twenty-two sure had lost its shine. In that tarnish, JJ wonders if your relationship has too.

rumours - 20k. words

blurb: your life has been surrounded by rumours and so has JJ Maybank's. One night, out of the blue, he strikes up conversation with you. From there, the rumours only grow, and some rumours are far worse than others.

orange juice * - 7.5k. words

blurb: in the most unlikely of settings, you and JJ reunite after five years apart in radio silence.

hurricanes - 7k. words

blurb: for so many of your memories, bad and good, it feels as if hurricanes are at the forefront. One night, during the midst of a storm, JJ comes to your house, seemingly to bring you one last memory of him

slipping * - 18k. words

blurb: you and JJ have been in a secret relationship for seven months. And it's great. It's perfect. It's just what JJ's always wanted. Except, you don't want to be a secret forever, and JJ can't risk you finding out his history with Barry

1000 followers specials - where are they now?

Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics…

F.W.B

fascinating new thing

guilty as sin

hurricanes

orange juice

pirates

risk

rumours

slipping

drabbles

drabbles which I have written, all jj maybank x fem!reader. some are inspired from this prompt list

happy anniversary (prompt 1) - smut

a mistake (prompt 2) - angst

plan b (prompt 3) - smut

not funny (prompt 4) - fluff

wasps (prompt 5) - angst

the fire (prompt 6) - angst/fluff

beads (prompt 7) - fluff

salmon (prompt 9) - fluff

pumpkin (prompt 11) - fluff

vampire (prompt 12) - fluff

have your cake and eat it too (prompt 13) - fluff

sea and sand (prompt 14) - fluff

wake the sleeping beast (prompt 15) - fluff

dumbass (prompt 16) - fluff

dinner tomorrow? (prompt 17) - smut

pumpkin (prompt 18) - fluff

storeroom (prompt 19) - smut

john james (prompt 20) - smut

the twinkie (prompt 21) - smut

your idiot (prompt 24) - angst

not the navy! (prompt 25) - fluff

dumbass (prompt 27) - fluff

little mouse (prompt 30) - fluff

acts of service

'mama'

poorly

opposites attract

covet

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter is a daaaaddy

In which @orion4ever generally requested fics with Daddy Baxter and I decided to write a novel -- this is a series of short little shots of Baxter and MC having a baby and watching that child grow up.

(Note: the baby's name is maybe the corniest thing I have ever done in my entire life but I stand by it and now it is my truth.)

"Do you think maybe you've taken enough tests?" Cove asked, standing next to you in his bathroom.

You looked down at the counter at the neat little line of pregnancy tests. There were different brands, different prices, but they all had the same result.

You were pregnant. With Baxter's baby. And it was NOT planned.

"What are you going to do?" he asked after you didn't answer his first question.

"I'm going to tell him," you responded, trying to project more confidence than you felt.

You and Baxter had been back together for a while at that point, and you'd been living together in Prism Vista City for a couple of years. Your relationship was great, and you absolutely wanted to marry him and have children together. But the plan was for all that to happen in the future.

Life, however, had a different plan.

Cove hyped you up as you collected all the sticks, wrapped them up in the bag from the drug store and threw them away. He kept it going as you walked out to your car to drive home, telling you about how great it would go, how Baxter would be so excited, how you'd be the best mom -- the sweetest words from your sweetest friend.

You tried to keep them in your mind as you made your way back to the apartment. When you made your way up to the front door, you paused, taking in a breath, then went inside.

"There's my girl," Baxter said sweetly, glancing over from the kitchen. The smells wafting through to the living room told you he was almost done cooking dinner.

"Hey," you answered, a bit less enthusiastically than normal.

It wasn't that you thought he'd be mean about it, or disappointed or anything. Not really. It's just that Baxter's original disappearing act left a bigger impression on you than you liked to admit, even now. Logically, you knew there was no chance of him running away. But still, those old feelings were resurfacing and it made you a little uneasy.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, dropping what he was doing to move to stand in front of you.

"Nothing," you said automatically -- you hadn't planned out how to tell him, but you didn't think the doorway would be a great place.

"I know you better than that," he chided, then repeated, "What's wrong?"

His eyes were boring into yours, and it just slipped out.

When he heard those words fall quietly from your lips, he froze. For what felt like forever, he didn't make a sound. He didn't move.

Then he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

All the emotions you'd been trying to hold in let loose, and you started sobbing on his shoulder. He held you, stroking your hair, whispering how much he loved you until you were able to calm down a bit.

He leaned back just enough to look at you and asked, "Are we doing this?"

"I want to," you said, certain of that much.

A wide grin broke out on his face -- not one of his usually little lazy smirks, a full-on smile.

And that's how you and Baxter started on the journey of a lifetime.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"If A goes into C ... then ... no, that can't be right," Baxter said, staring out at all the wood pieces and hardware bits laid out around him.

You were about six months along, your tummy was getting rounder, and he had you sitting on the rocking chair in the room you'd been converting to a nursery like the dainty princess he'd been treating you as for the past several months.

He was putting together a crib for the baby. It was not going well.

After you became pregnant, the two of you had decided that it might be time to find a nice little house in the suburbs, somewhere with a yard and a little more room. Baxter took the task on, spending hours upon hours researching and making calls and talking to the bank. When he found some real contenders, he'd taken you out to see them, and that's how you found your new home.

And yes, he'd assured you, the ice cream truck came down this street.

Looking down at your boyfriend reading a packet of assembly instructions like it was the most indecipherable text known to man, you couldn't help but laugh.

"I do believe we're missing something," he muttered, not hearing you.

This had been going on for an hour, and he hadn't gotten anywhere. Baxter was beautiful and sweet and graceful and so many good things, but he certainly wasn't a handyman.

"Ok, that's enough."

He looked up when you stood, then got up himself, moving to you.

"You should be resting, darling," he said, putting his hands on your waist. "Sit back down, let me take care of this. Please."

"I'm pregnant, Baxter, not helpless," you laughed, snaking your arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

He smiled -- he had been making quite the fuss over you since you'd told him the big news, but he didn't mind a bit. He actually enjoyed it very much. After all, you were giving him the greatest gift -- a family -- and the least he could do was pamper you while your body created an entire human being.

"I like taking care of you," he reminded you. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another on your temple.

"Then stop messing around with this stupid crib and mess around with me instead," you said.

He raised an eyebrow, but your remark wasn't a huge surprise. Pregnancy hormones were intense, and after you got through an unpleasant first trimester, you'd gotten pretty ... fiesty.

"What kind of man would I be to deny the mother of my child something she asks for?" he asked.

"No kind of man at all," you replied, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

If Baby Ward ever asked where their antique crib came from, you'd have to come up with a good answer. "Your dad couldn't figure out IKEA instructions and your mom was too horny to help him" just didn't sound like a great story to pass on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were exhausted, more exhausted than you'd ever been in your life by far. If you'd been in any another situation, you would have passed out a long time ago and slept as long as humanly possible.

But the sight of Baxter standing in your hospital room, cradling your newborn baby girl with such a look of love and devotion on his face was enough for you to keep your eyes open.

"She's perfect," he told you softly. "Absolutely perfect."

The baby, who you still hadn't named yet, gave a little coo, and you'd swear if he wasn't so intent on holding her so carefully he would have melted right into the floor.

"Daddy loves you," he told her, using a mix between his normal fancy voice and a baby-talk tone that he'd been using throughout your pregnancy when talking to your tummy -- it was equal parts adorable and hilarious. "Daddy is going to take care of you and mommy forever and ever, you little angel, daddy's little princess ..."'

He went on like that for a while. It could have been the exhaustion, but you thought you saw actual hearts in his eyes once.

After a bit, the baby started crying. Baxter swiftly handed her to you, and you started a breastfeeding attempt. He stayed right by your side, helping you angle her around and move her head to try to find the best latch. Once you'd found it, you smiled up at him.

"I think I know what her name is," you told him.

"Oh?" he asked. "Do share."

"Penelope. Penny for short."

He smirked at the reference to one of his old favorite sayings, then looked down at the baby. He studied her for a moment, then looked back to you.

"Penny Ward," he said, giving you a quick kiss. "One of the two lights of my life."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Penny ... baby, please ..." you cried, holding your six-month-old daughter in your arms as she cried right along with you.

She was teething, a sharp little top of a tooth poking through her gums, and she didn't care for the feeling one bit. You'd tried everything -- teething rights, soft frozen foods, tylenol, walking, sitting, lying down. Nothing was working.

"Daddy's home," you heard from the doorway. Baxter had been off working a wedding, and you hadn't heard him come in over the sound of Penny's screams.

He walked directly to you, still in his self-designated work uniform of a black shirt and slacks, and took the baby from you.

"I've got her," he said, rubbing her back lightly. "Why don't you take care of yourself? Bed, dinner, a bath, perhaps? What do you need?"

You leaned against the wall, still crying yourself and not sure how to respond. You watched as Baxter kissed Penny on the cheek and moved with her across the room in a little waltz. He'd done this since she was born -- she liked being walked around, but why would Baxter walk when dancing was just as easy?

She settled down a bit in his arms -- a daddy's girl, through and through.

"Can I take a shower?" you asked. "Then I can get her to sleep while you get ready for bed."

"Absolutely not," he told you. "And miss an evening with one of my favorite girls?"

"You worked all day," you reminded him. "You need to rest."

"I think we both know I've got quite the knack for burning the midnight oil."

The two of you had a bit of a stare down, but you were too tired, and Baxter with your baby in his arms was too sweet.

"Ok, fine," you finally said. "I'll take a shower and lay down for a little while, but you come get me soon so you can go to bed."

"Absolutely," he said in a way that actually meant "absolutely not."

Still, you wandered off to change out of your vomit-stained shirt and hop in the shower, completely drained but completely aware of how much you'd lucked out with Baxter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You'd been with Baxter for a long time. You'd seen him at his highest and at his lowest, at his most confident and in the depths of his self hatred.

But you don't think anything quite compared to the Baxter you saw in front of you -- the Baxter who was standing in a hospital room, watching his four-year-old daughter wailing with a broken arm.

He had taken Penny to the park while you got some work done, and she'd fallen off the swing and landed funny on her arm. That was all, a normal childhood injury. Of course it was difficult to see your child in pain, but you could tell Baxter was also blaming himself.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he said softly, standing by the bed. He had one hand on her head, holding it against him, and the other was grasping the hand on her uninjured arm.

"You've got to be a brave girl, ok?" you said. You were kneeling in front of her, careful for the doctors who were at a small table by the bed, preparing to anesthetize her so they could set her arm in a cast.

"But it hurts!" she sobbed. "I want to go home!"

Baxter tensed a bit, and when you glanced up at him you saw tears in his eyes. Still, he did his best to hold it together for his pride and joy.

"I'll tell you what," he said, gripping her hand. "You just be brave for a little longer, then tomorrow we can do whatever you like. Movies all day, candy for breakfast, a toy store shopping spree -- just name it."

You glanced at him again. This girl could take this guilt trip for a major ride if she wanted.

Penny's sniffles slowed down a little as she looked up at her father. "Can we play princesses?"

"We'll be the prettiest princesses in all the land," he replied with no hesitation.

That seemed to make her happy, then the doctors were ready. They put her to sleep, then ushered you and Baxter out of the room while they got to work.

"I'm so sorry," Baxter gasped, all the emotion falling out of him now that his daughter wasn't there to see it. "It happened so quickly -- I should have been closer, I should have caught her ..."

"It was an accident," you told him simply as you pulled him into a hug. "That's all. It's not your fault."

"But it is," he argued. "I was there, I was taking care of her. If she'd fallen differently, if something else had happened, I don't --"

"Stop," you cut him off. "There's no reason to think like that. You're an amazing father. This was an accident. Don't beat yourself up."

He buried his face against your shoulder, and you felt the wetness of his tears. Penny was his world, the thought that he'd put her in danger and inadvertently caused her pain was killing him.

"You're a good father," you repeated. "If I was the one with her at the park, would you blame me?"

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Then why can't you give yourself the same consideration?"

An age old question about an issue that Baxter was better about, but still struggled with. He held himself to an impossibly high standard, one that he'd never expect anyone else to meet.

When he failed to answer, you hugged him tighter. You told him again how wonderful he was, how much Penny loved and adored him. As you were singing his praises, a nurse came out of the room and told you that they were all done.

After a while longer, the little girl was discharged and sent home with a pink cast that gave you some warm and fuzzy feelings of your own childhood. After sleeping in the next morning, she felt better when she woke up, and your little family spent the day as princesses, complete with tiaras, tutus and wands. And you were the prettiest in all the land.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh my god ... oh ... my god."

"Amazing, right?"

Penny, now a precocious ten-year-old, sat on the floor in the bedroom you shared with Baxter, holding an old photograph in her hands. She looked absolutely entranced, which made sense, considering what the picture showed her.

She'd heard of Baxter's infamous monochrome phase. Her aunts and uncles had made plenty of remarks about it over the years -- Uncle Terry was able to paint an especially vivid picture.

He didn't have many pictures at all of himself when he was younger. He'd cut ties with his family years ago, so any photos there were out, and he'd gone through that lengthy phase where he didn't really let himself have friends. He didn't really like being in photos then, although you had managed to snap a couple of him during that summer in Sunset Bird.

And so your daughter had in her hands a picture of Baxter, all of 19 years old, in all his black and white glory.

"Oh my god," she repeated.

The man himself appeared in the doorway then. He'd been about to announce that dinner was almost ready, but seeing the scene before him, he stopped.

You looked from the photograph back up to Baxter, taking in all the changes that the past two decades had brought. The black and white hair was gone of course, and he'd long been able to wear actual colors. He'd put on a few pounds too -- after all, he wasn't 19 anymore. The smirk though, that was definitely the same.

"Dad, can I be honest?" Penny asked.

"Always," he answered easily.

"You looked ridiculous. Like really. What were you even thinking?"

"I don't know, I think there was a certain charm there," he teased, leaning over her to get a better look at the picture. "I wonder, do you think I could pull that off again? Perhaps a trip to the salon is in order."

"No."

"Oh, come on," he continued. "It wasn't nearly as bad a look as you seem to think. After all, your mother liked it well enough."

"Gross," she cried, standing up and placing the photo on the bed. "I'm going to my room so I don't have to hear this. I'm traumatized."

You laughed as your dramatic daughter did a full-body shake to emphasize how scarred she was. After she was gone, you turned to Baxter, who was grinning at you.

"It wasn't that ridiculous, was it?" he asked, knowing that it, in fact, was that ridiculous and more.

"It's what's inside that counts," you told him, going in for a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Look up ... more ... keep your eyes open, I've almost got it."

After a moment, Penny pulled back and examined Baxter's face. She nodded, satisfied at the look of the eyeliner she'd applied on him.

She was 16 now, and she'd developed a flair for the dramatic like her father had when he was a teenager. Instead of a monochromatic look, she preferred dark colors and heavy makeup. She'd also grown out of her "ugh, parents" stage early, which was why she was letting Baxter take her to a concert.

It was a metal band he liked, and when she heard him playing it in the car, she liked it too. He found tickets to a show they were doing nearby, and you encouraged him to take her on a daddy-daughter date.

That's why you were gathered in the bathroom together -- she had to put a little makeup on him so he fit in.

"I've got some leather pants I'm going to wear as well," he told her. "And for my shirt, I was thinking perhaps I skip it and instead put on a matching leather vest. What do you think?"

After 16 years of living with Baxter, Penny was no longer bothered by his constant teasing. She went on with her business, smudging the eyeliner before beginning to apply a dark blush.

"Whatever you want, dad," she answered. "Whatever you wear, I'm sure you'll be the prettiest princess in all the land."

Baxter was already thrilled to be going out with her, but after hearing the old callback to her favorite childhood game, you could see he was melting.

When the makeup was done, he got dressed -- not in the leather ensemble he suggested -- and you waved them off as they left for the concert.

After they returned home that night, Penny was ecstatic, and so was Baxter. You listened as they went on about how great the show was, and how excited she was to experience her first mosh pit. A hint of anger flashed across her face when she mentioned a guy who was too rough and nearly knocked her down, but then she smiled when she told you her dad had taken care of it.

"What did you do?" you asked suspiciously.

"I took care of it, darling," he answered, giving a quick wink to Penny

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Years later, you found yourself taking in a familiar site, something you'd seen hundreds, if not thousands of times before.

Baxter was standing in front of you, nervously smoothing out his suit.

"Do I look all right?" he asked.

"As handsome as always," you told him.

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss, then ran his hands down his jacket again.

It was Penny's wedding day, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look as anxious as he did then.

He had planned the wedding -- of course he had. While he always took his job seriously, doing his very best to give his clients the best experience he possibly could, this time was just different. He went above and beyond, pouring himself into every detail to ensure his daughter had her dream day.

You and Penny had had to convince him to bring on a partner of sorts, someone to execute everything during the actual wedding so he could enjoy it. But you'd watched him keep a close eye on everything anyway, totally read to jump in if needed.

But right now, his mind was on something else. The reception was about to begin, which meant it wasn't too long until the father-daughter dance.

And Baxter was taking that dance very seriously.

He watched the newlyweds take their first dance, grabbing for your hand as you both looked on with pride. It was such a special feeling, knowing that your child had found someone who meant as much to her as you meant to each other.

Before you knew it, the music changed and Penny found you in the crowd gathered around. She gestured for Baxter to join her, and with one more tug at his tie, he walked towards her.

Watching them dance together was always so lovely, but it was a little different this time around. A lifetime of dances came to mind -- Baxter and Penny dancing around the kitchen when she was a cranky infant who refused to go to sleep, them dancing around her bedroom in their princess gear. You remembered him teaching her the basics of ballroom dancing as she prepared for her first school dance so she'd feel confident. He'd showed her all the trendy dances that were popular when you and her were kids, and although she pretended to die of embarrassment, she did laugh after he taught her how to Dougie.

You wondered how many more chances you'd get to see them like this, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Things had changed so much, and they only kept changing. It was a bittersweet feeling.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts, you met Baxter's eyes as he moved Penny around the dancefloor. Instead of getting caught up in the uncertainties of the future, you let your heart swell with love.

Against all odds, you'd created a family with him. After a number of chance meetings and a couple of false starts, you'd built a life with him -- you'd put decades of blood, sweat and tears into it. And it was beautiful.

When Baxter led Penny by you, she stuck out her arm and snatched yours, dragging you into the dance as well. He laughed with delight, content to stop the more elaborate routine to wrap his arms around his two best girls and sway together.

"We did good," you told him quietly, glancing over at your daughter.

"We certainly did."

[rubyroboticalt]

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUATERLY!

What's up guys, update just dropped! It sure is something to try and decipher, huh. We've got pages of new stuff to go over, so let me learn you a thing about all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

This week, the news is late. Why is that?

Splat's solar system is complete! And what a beauty it is. And if you're wanting to see the real thing, there are plenty of potions that can give you enough levitation to reach Andromeda!

There are, of course, other potions to drink if fizzy lifting isn't your thing. And if you're on the violent side of things, Nightmarish and their friends have fun summoning dozens of skeletons! If you want a chiller time, Bibi has learned how to ride a camel.

Residents attend a normal dinner! And Grunk has a fun day at dirt world. Swamp and Gummy have big news - Swamp is having Gummy's baby! Congrats! Group enigma solving at Pirate Cove sees all twelve ender eyes found.

Hivi breaks free of the Ender King's control after a long, long fight. A new mod allows residents to make plush mobs! And, of course, the End opens! Tonmy is the first through the end portal and Levi gets the final strike on the first dragon. Due to scheduling conflicts, there are more than one first dragon fights! The second sees Mando dealing the killing blow.

And with the End open and the dragon dead, residents begin exploring for loot and new blocks! Splat uses his elytra to take some aerial screenshots of his projects. Inc uses his elytra to go endbusting with Jelli and Levi. And Zephyrous uses her elytra to catch and ride a tardigrade.

Of course, the End is not without its issues, looking at you Penumbral Forest. Berry and Popcorn invent new problems in trying to collect every plush mob in the game. And Neon invents water skiing with elytra.

Using cages, every End mob has been collected and brought to the Overworld. Including the Enderophage, which is being used to inflict pregnancy on players at random.

Did I mention that End Cities got buffed? End cities got buffed. A lot. And a statue of Pewen gets added to the creature statue garden! Residents also meet Jeff, the villager at the end of the game.

And now, a reading from r/malelivingspaces: White sandstone floors. Wine concrete walls. Split level with no visible accessible ramp between levels. Three yellow windows in the entryway. Single bookshelf placed on the upper level. Torches scattered about willy-nilly to stave off darkness. Almos, staring regretfully at the room. Single furnace placed on the back wall. Split level ceiling to match the floor. This has been a reading from r/malelivingspaces.

Grace builds a rainbow bubble under the water. Glitch has a normal reaction to the salt wastes biome.

And this week ends with a picnic at a lovely pink pergola.

[goddess0fgluttony]

Here’s the story

So a few months ago we had some new people move in at the cove across from me. She was a nurse. However she was very VERY attractive. She had wide hips, solid thighs, a round butt, and a slim abdomen. She caught my eye because I couldn’t stop thinking about how good she’d look with a big, round, soft, butter ball belly. So I decided to make my move. I saw her out walking one day and decided to go running shirtless. As I passed her I noticed she pull down her sunglasses to take a look at me. I stopped running and walked toward her. When we came close enough she looked me up and down and said “I’ve noticed that you’ve been looking at me lately. Mostly my ass and belly. You want ‘em bigger don’t you?Come by and fatten me up.” She blew me a kiss and started to walk back to her home. I stood there for a minute, drooling watching her fat ass jiggle while she walked to her house. After admiring her butt I went to her house and ordered dominos pizza. She led me to the kitchen where she had a chair, rope, and a bikini. She turned to me and said “Wait here with the pizza while I go put on this bikini for you. Be back shortly baby.” I was so excited I could barely contain it. The pizza arrived, I paid the delivery guy and waited for her to come downstairs. She slowly walked down the stairs and sat in her chair. I asked her “You ready to get fatter?” She moaned and said “I thought you’d never ask.” I pulled out the pizza and started shoving bite after bite after bite into her mouth. After the first two boxes of pizza her belly had gone from toned abs to a fat gut. She lazily slumped back in the chair, continually eating every slice I shoved in her face. After 4 whole boxes of large pizzas she was now a beautiful masterpiece. Her thighs were now soft meat sticks waiting to be rubbed, her belly hung over into her lap, she now had love handles, and a beautifully fatter butt. She was ABSOLUTELY beautiful…and stuffed of course. She thanked me profusely, kissed me, gave me her number, and told me I better go before her husband and kids got back. 30 minutes after I made it home I got a text from her. “Hey you’ll never guess how my friends reacted to my belly. I was laying in my bed on FaceTime with a friend. She pointed out my belly and said is it just me or did your belly get bigger? I laughed and said yeah got a little bored so I ordered a little bit of pizza. She was obviously disappointed, but she played it off.” I thought about it and replied “How bout tonight? 9:00 or 9:30 for a belly play session?” She hearted the message and said “Fine with me 🥰.” I texted back “Love you my beautiful feedee.” As the day went by 9:30 finally rolled around there she was standing at my door. I let her in and we went to my bedroom. She was wearing a white t shirt and leggings that clearly didn’t fit. She sat in my lap and I took off her shirt, freeing her belly from containment. I slowly moved my arms toward her belly and started massaging it.

So what do you think of the story?

😳😳😳

[starsfic]

Welp, I finished the first poll choice...

Summaries:

SDMI/FNAF: Based on this post, the gang is hired to investigate the rumors of a bunny animatronic ghost overnight. The truth is a little more tricky.

LMK: Tangled AU where Long Xiaojiao has been kept locked in a tower under the watchful eye of her “uncle” and “the Lady”, only desiring to get out and see the world, especially lanterns that appear on her birthday. However, things change when Qi Xiaotian, heir to Sun Wukong, comes looking for the missing piece of the Samadhi fire.

Scooby Doo, my incarnation: The first part of Episode 1, when trying to leave their hometown of Crystal Cove to start their second year of college, the Mystery Gang finds themselves trapped in Crystal Cove.

Poppy Playtime: The moment that the angel steps into the factory, every toy knows. Dogday, down below, hopes.

Set sometime before Agony of a Witch, Raine Whispers is sent to the weekly Coven Head meeting- which is basically just an excuse to hang out at a bar and bitch. They meet up again with Lilith, drinks are drunk, and Lilith ends up drunkenly confessing the truth about Eda’s curse to a less drunk Raine.

LMK/PP: Due to a misread address, a missent letter, and some poor decisions, Qi Xiaotian finds himself trapped in the depths of the Playtime Co. factory. But he’s not gonna let DogDay be stuck too.

@draw-of-the-moon's LMK/Ninjago AU: When Red mysteriously disappears, Long Xiaojiao and pregnant Qi Xiaotian have to beat back suitors.

LMK: The Traffic Light Trio, Sun Wukong, and Macaque are cursed to tell the truth. Harsh stuff comes out.

LMK: AU inspired by the King Thrushbeard fairytale, where Red Son refuses all suitors until his father decides to marry him off to the next peasant who walks through the door. Except Qi Xiaotian isn’t royalty, but very kind.

TMNT, my incarnation: April O'Neil makes a new friend when staying up late studying at the public library

TMNT, my incarnation: Related to 10, but the entire first episode. When the turtles make and suddenly lose a new human friend, the four turtles (and Casey) find themselves in a hidden city.

@draw-of-the-moon’s LMK/Ninjago AU: In a daring mission to rescue their baby sibs from the underworld and Samukai, Nya and Kai both find themselves lost in the outer regions of the underworld. A lone wanderer named Azure offers to help guide them.

[caramara3]

Just Friends...?: Imani Cove

Playlist for fic

Name: Imani Cove

Nicknames: Emmi, Mani, Emms

DOB: July 28, 1990

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Born: Houston, TX

Billed from: Houston, TX

Resides: Orlando, FL

Age: 32 (as of 2023)

Ethnicity: Afro-Caribbean (mother is Trinidadian; father's family is from New Orleans)

Height: 5 foot 5

Occupation: Professional Wrestler * actress *

Family:

Grandmother: Evangeline Whitley

Grandfather: Charles Whitley Sr.

Sister: Ariella

Accomplishments:

WWE:

WWE Women's World Champion (1 time, current; won at WrestleMania XL against Rhea Ripley)

NXT Women’s Championship (2 times)

WWE RAW Women’s Championship (5 times)

WWE Smackdown Women’s Championship (4 times)

WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship (4 times, inaugural) with Bayley (2), Naomi (1), and Rhea Ripley (1)

Women’s Royal Rumble Winner (2024)

Third WWE Women’s Triple Crown Champion

Third WWE Women’s Grand Slam Champion

NXT Year-End Award (1 time)

Match of the Year (2015) vs. Bayley at NXT TakeOver: Brooklyn

ESPY Awards:

Best WWE Moment (2021) - Imani Cove and Bianca Belair make history as the first Black Women to main-event WrestleMania

Bumpy Award (4 times)

Tag Team of the Half-Year (2020) – with Bayley

Best Match of the Half-Year

Best Match of the Half-Year (2021) – vs. Bianca Belair at WrestleMania 37

Best Match of the Half-Year (2023) - vs. Charlotte vs. Rhea Ripley at WrestleMania 39

Best Match of the Half-Year (2024) - vs Rhea Ripley at WrestleMania XL

Little Facts about Imani:

Imani Cove is one of the 4 Horsewomen of the WWE alongside Charlotte Flair, Becky Lynch, and Bayley.

Imani is a graduate of the Wild Samoans Training Center.

Right now Imani has over 13 tattoos and counting, 13 to symbolize her lucky number. And yes, a good amount of her tattoos were done on Friday the 13th.

Both Imani and her sister Ariella were predominately raised by their paternal grandparents.

Imani, though a social butterfly, tends to keep her private extremely secretive.

Imani has an extensive background in dance and gymnastics.

Imani has a bachelor's degree in Exercise Physiology and is registered as a licensed massage therapist. If she hadn't gone into wrestling, she wanted to become physical therapist for children.

During her early days in FCW and NXT Developmental, Imani played the part of Roman Reigns' manager. When he got called up to the main roster, Imani originally was meant to be called up but at the last minute was told she would be staying behind.

Imani's grandmother Evangeline was terrified learning her baby wanted to be a wrestler, but she agreed to let her train on one condition: that she went to college and get a degree just in case.

In early 2018, Imani suffered a torn ACL while competing against Charlotte Flair during a house show. Her injury forced her to relinquish her Smackdown Women's Championship at the time and miss both WrestleMania 34 & 35. She would make her in-ring return in 2020 at the Royal Rumble in her hometown Houston, TX and be in the final four of the Royal Rumble Match.

A few of Imani's major wrestling influences are Rey Mysterio, Chyna, Lita, The Wild Samoans, Batista, Trish Stratus, Eddie Guerrero, and Shawn Michaels.

Imani reps her hometown teams the Houston Texans and the Houston Astros.

She is very close friends with Rhea Ripley, Zelina Vega, Naomi, Charlotte Flair, Bianca Belair, Bayley, Tamina, and Natalya.

Imani is fluent in three languages: Spanish, French, and German. She knows a little Japanese and is currently learning Italian.

She has an insane sweet tooth. She loves brownies, cakes, and ice cream, especially cookies-and-cream ice cream.

Imani's signature fragrance is a perfume she created at a local shop in New Orleans. It's a blend of vanilla, black orchid, and amber that she pairs with Eos Cashmere Vanilla lotion.

Imani grew up in an affluent musical family. Her grandmother was a jazz singer in New Orleans for 30 years and her grandfather played trumpet for her band (that's how they met).

Imani has three pets: an orange cat named Mushu, a black cat named Binx, and a Staffy named Moose.

The first thing she did with her first big paycheck was pay off her grandparents house in Houston and moved them to Tampa to be close to her.

Her favorite two matches of her career are the NXT Iron Woman Match against Bayley & main eventing WrestleMania 37 with Bianca Belair.

Her sister Ariella is 7 years younger than her. Ari is a woman in STEM and is currently studying in South Korea in a program for her masters in biomedical engineering.