#she plays the game and she plays the game GOOD and she is so. so damn cool for it.

[pathologicalreid]

spring into summer | s.r.

in which Spencer pursues a relationship with you. you try to resist every advance - for your own protection.

[previously]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angsty content warnings: blowing smoke part tew, at a bar but it's not specified whether or not reader drinks alcohol, kissing, if you have a problem with my bar music keep it to yourself, maeve as a plot device, love confessions, not edited word count: 2.25k a/n: y'all i wasn't gonna do this, but listening to this song... yeah i had to.

“Spencer’s here!” Penelope exclaimed from her bar stool, her heels clicking on her way to the front of the bar, hoping to lead Spencer through the crowd to where the team had decided to set up shop.

Your head snapped up in alarm, tilting your head to the side and trying to get JJ’s attention, “I didn’t think Spencer was coming out tonight.”

She frowned slightly, placing her glass on the bar and shrugging, “It was an open invite.”

An open invite that you extended to the guy you’re seeing. You huffed, pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder and flagging down the bartender, hoping to get a drink before you need to play defense against Spencer.

“Hey,” Ethan said from behind you, a cute guy from counterterrorism that Penelope had introduced you to. His hand sat comfortably on your waist as you got the bartender’s attention again, letting him know that you’d actually need two drinks.

You smiled back at him, panicking slightly when he leaned in to kiss you. Evading his kiss, you let his lips land on your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing Spencer.

The two of you had as little contact as you could manage in the past two months, ever since Spencer’s attempt to ask you out had gone completely awry. Of course, ceasing all contact was unavoidable, between work and Spencer’s continued pursuance, you continuously found yourself under his net.

Ethan squeezed your waist gently, taking the glass that the bartender had placed in front of him and grabbing a straw for yours. You thanked him, crushing the straw wrapper against the bar and taking a sip.

Admittedly, you weren’t interested in the guy in the slightest. The second time you went out together, he’d gotten your name wrong, but he was friends with Penelope’s crush, so you were trying to be a good sport.

It felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on you, pairing you with someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember your name while you were trying to shut out a guy who remembered your favorite flower from a conversation three years ago. Yesterday, you’d found a bouquet on your desk for the third Thursday in a row.

Every time you read the card that he sends with the arrangement, you almost forget yourself. It would be a waste for you to get rid of them, which is the only reason you’ve kept them on your desk.

Or so you keep telling yourself.

“You look nice,” Spencer whispered to you, reaching between you and JJ so he could grab his drink from the bar. He looked good, you noticed him against your better judgment, even the embroidery on his tie managed to catch your attention.

Before you could collect yourself enough to respond to him, Morgan had already pulled him back to a booth, putting an arm around his shoulders and pointing out different girls in the bar while Savannah rolled her eyes. His hair was growing out from the undercut that he’d debuted in the fall, falling in front of his eyes until he inevitably flicked the stray hairs away.

Peeling your eyes off of him, you looked back at Ethan, who’d already made his way through half his drink. His eyes were glued to the baseball game being displayed above the bar. If your date had noticed you ogling your coworker, he didn’t show it.

Tentatively, you tapped his stool gently with your toe, “Hey,” you tried to get his attention, batting your eyelashes. “Do you wanna go over to the jukebox with me? We can pick a song together,” you offered.

He frowned and shook his head, “Nah, the Nationals game is on.” He nodded his head up to the TV, refraining from sparing you a glance.

You looked up at the screen, they were at the bottom of the second inning, and you were in for an exhausting night. “Right,” you said flatly, “I’ll be right back.”

Sharing a look with Penelope, who shot you a supportive thumbs up from the other side of the bar, you got off your stool and adjusted your purse over your shoulder. You liked that this bar still had a real jukebox, as opposed to the updated touchscreens commonly found in bars nowadays. You dug through your purse for a quarter, half paying attention to your rummaging and using the rest of your brain power to study the available songs.

A few things caught your eye, most of the available tracks were classics—Journey, Queen, and a Meatloaf track that was suspiciously out of order. Probably because the song was over eight minutes long. “Here,” the familiar voice—that you’d been trying to avoid—spoke.

Spencer held a quarter out for you, leaving the coin displayed in his palm until you graciously accepted it. “Thanks,” you said, “Do you have any suggestions?” You expertly dodged his attempt at eye contact, sliding the quarter into its slot and reading through the titles again. Pressing your lips in a thin line while you ignored the way he was leaning over the jukebox.

“Why did you ask him to come out?” He asked, pointing at one of the songs and chuckling when you shook your head. He should’ve known better than to actually make a request. After all, you were just being polite.

You squinted at a title, worn with time, and you distracted yourself with the task of reading it. “I didn’t know you were coming with us,” you muttered, refusing to let your curiosity get the better of you and resisting the urge to just select the worn button. “You don’t usually like this bar,” you reminded him. You couldn’t remember the last time Spencer went out to a bar that wasn’t O’Keefe’s.

He hummed next to you, standing so close that you could feel his body heat intermingling with your own. “So,” he started, “You wouldn’t have asked him to go out if you had known I was going to be here.”

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes flickering to the side. Not enough to see his face, but enough to notice that he’d taken off his suit jacket, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“You might as well have,” he returned, watching as you finally chose a Fleetwood Mac song, concluding that you’d either have to choose a song you didn’t want or waste Spencer’s quarter.

You peeked around him, your date still preoccupied with the sporting event. Even so, you tried to make your way around Spencer, but he grabbed your elbow and held you back.

There was nothing forceful in his action. If you wanted to snatch your arm away and stalk away from him, he wasn’t going to stop you, but you found yourself interested in staying with him. It would be worth your while to stay with someone who was begging for your attention rather than return to the bar to beg for someone else’s.

Spencer looked around, mindful of the members of your team who were still in earshot while he led you away from the crowds. He tucked you away, resting your back against a shiplap wall in a corner, perfectly concealed from curious profilers. “I want to talk to you,” he whispered, leaning against the wall.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in preemptive defense, making sure he stayed at least a foot away from you. “I’ve said everything there is to say to you,” you made no effort to avert his gaze, no attempt to duck away from the conversation.

“I haven’t,” he responded immediately, his voice steady despite the noticeable pounding of his carotid. It was almost as if he’d practiced this speech before, going through every permutation of the conversation in his mirror before meeting you out.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at him; the sun was setting, the orange light reflecting in his brown irises while he studied you like it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Spence,” you breathed, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

“You never actively pursued me, how was I meant to know you were interested?” His question made you want to scoff, but the earnest look in his eyes gave you pause. “Admittedly, social cues aren’t my strong suit, and I know you know that.”

Your shoulders relaxed, “So, because I never actively pursued you, it’s my fault that we never ended up together? Was I supposed to declare my intentions to you?”

He shook his head, sending strands of wavy brown hair tumbling in front of his forehead. In another life, you would’ve reached out to fix his hair. “No, I’m saying that while you never actively pursued me, I am actively pursuing you. I just want to make sure you know what page I’m on,” he told you, nervously picking at his nails.

“Spencer,” you sighed his name, “I already told you I couldn’t do it.” You’d cried it to him, actually. You expected this conversation to be more of the same, pleading with Spencer to understand your perspective on the situation while he relentlessly begged you to reconsider.

Reaching out, he touched your arm gently, nothing more than a graze of his fingertips across your bare skin, “And I want to prove to you that we can do this. I can be the guy that you want.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push yourself further into the wall until you phased right through it, “I can’t take the back and forth.” You needed something stable, but what you needed would never be reflective of what you wanted. The most brutal truth of all was that you still wanted Spencer. You considered him your first love, and no one ever gets over their first love.

Just like he’d never get over his.

“There are just too many years between us, Spencer. It’s too complicated,” you told him, trying to keep your breathing steady. It would be exhausting to explain your tearful look to the rest of the team.

He waved your reasoning away, “It’s not. It’s not complicated. I love you and you love me. So, why can’t we be together?”

Your lips parted, staring up at him with wide eyes as your brain frantically tried to catch up with the situation at hand. Each beat of your heart was like a repetition of the word—love, love, love.

Spencer took your silence for rejection, “Maybe it’s just me then.”

“It’s not,” you croaked, fear and love and sorrow causing your throat to strangle your words. You looked up at him and wondered how long he’d been sitting on that confession. You wondered how long he’d known you loved him. You wondered if he still dreamed about Maeve. For whatever reason, that’s the only curiosity that you voiced, “Do you still dream about her?”

“I only dream about you these days,” he answered, his voice soft in the cacophony of the bar, keeping the conversation private despite your public stage.

“You can’t mean that,” you murmured, your face warming in response to his confession.

Your response only seemed to encourage him further, leaning his head down to allow himself contact. He pressed his lips to yours gently, and you found yourself leaning into him more than you’d like, each movement of his lips reminiscent of a chisel against the wall that you had constructed between the two of you.

Reaching your arms up, you propped one over his shoulder and used your free hand to weave your fingers in his hair—just as silky as you had always imagined it would be. His lips were soft against yours, and you knew you were fighting a battle that you could never win. You’d always run back to him.

Even when you pried yourself away from him, there wasn’t an ounce of regret in your bloodstream, but there was an outpour of sorrow. “Spence,” you breathed, blinking tears from your eyes while he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he responded, “I shouldn’t have done that.” His tone didn’t reflect his words in the slightest, there was no remorse in his eyes when you met them for the first time in a new light.

You shook your head instantly, “It’s okay.” You understood why he had done it. Telling you he loved you. Kissing you. He hadn’t done either of those things with Maeve. Spencer was trying to make a statement with you; he wanted his actions to speak louder than words.

He frowned, “You’re crying. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips parted to respond, but you hesitated for a moment. Curiosity was rapping at your door, wanting to know if the last person he had kissed was Diane. “I’m not crying because I didn’t want you to kiss me,” you admitted, hoping that your candor would serve to bring him some comfort.

“Oh,” he breathed, “Oh.”

You nodded, confirming his suspicions, “But I meant it when I told you I can’t do this. I just… not right now.” You needed time to come to terms with the fact that the love you never expected was right around the corner, and you needed time so that Maeve wasn’t the first person you thought over after kissing him.

“Okay,” he said, taking a small step away from you, “But you… you’ll let me know?”

Your head bobbed, “I’ll let you know.”

"I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word." - Ernest Hemingway

[evesedenramblings]

Highlights of the “In-Character” portion of the Project Eden’s Garden AMONG US stream in no particular order:

Damon introducing himself as “the Ultimate Debater. A prodigy among prodigies. Someone who simply can’t be outmatched.” And everyone going dead silent before making fun of his egotistical ass

Eva hiding in the corner of the waiting room

Diana going to the corner of the waiting room with Eva to keep her company

Kai being the reason the stream started late because he couldn’t decide the perfect look for his Among Us character

All their little characters matching them so well; Wolfgang in a little suit, Grace with bunny ears, Wenona with bear ears, Tozu’s goat horns, etc, and Eva just having absolutely nothing on

Wolfgang and Jean not knowing how to play video games and just doing their best

How utterly excited Tozu is that everyone is playing a killing game and he gets to play too

Damon yelling OH GOD DAMMIT so bad the mic reverberated after Wolfgang killed him

Wolfgang being imposter, killing everyone, and going “that was fun! 🙂”, followed by Jean going “I didn’t know you had it in you!” and Wolfgang replying with “I didn’t know I had it in me either 🙂”

Ulysses mention that apparently in-world he was supposed to attend but overslept (possible explanation that is why Wenona attended)

Wolfgang doesn’t know what tiktok is

Kai and Damon sticking together and doing tasks and everyone going “yeah okay”

^^^ My personal favourite is Cassidy telling everyone to come look at them doing tasks together on the cameras and Jean going “oh so those two were off canoodling somewhere”

Cassidy being the kind of Among Us player who bets everything on “you’ll be sorry” or “do it then” and expects it to work and is shocked every time when it doesn’t

Tozu dying early on in every game

Damon catching an imposter in a lie by saying he couldn’t have been the killer, because he was with “Kai, his very good friend”

Jean saying “a princess has to look her best” when Cassidy makes fun of Kai taking too much time in customization menu and then adding “welcome back princess” when Kai finished

Wolfgang hitting Damon with “it’s just a game” when Damon was locked the fuck in on busting Wolfgang as imposter

Diana going for Tozu first as imposter and still being an absolutely terrible liar

Cassidy correct guessing Damon as the imposter begging him loudly not to kill her in voice proximity, so he actually can’t kill her anymore, so instead he scoffs and goes “wish” before trotting off

Damon being revealed as imposter last minute and Eva yelling about how she trusted him. Kai also being there.

Grace and Wenona very clearly not knowing how the game works but refusing to admit it

Cassidy calling Wolfgang Grace’s boytoy

[dafterdarling]

wrong colours // aitana bonmati

aitana bonmati x madrid/england!reader

warnings: slightly suggestive? kissing/heavy petting

summary: aitana shows up to training wearing the wrong sweatshirt

word count: 1167

Aitana was organised or at least she liked to believe she was and to her credit you thought she was... most of the time. This morning not being one of these times- you had just played against Barcelona the previous day and to no ones surprise lost but still Aitana insisted you come to her apartment and spend the night-

"Come- I make it up to you?" Aitana whispered in broken English in a more secluded corner of the long Camp Nou corridor.

You shrugged, "I don't know..." You were feeling pretty down after getting battered in front of thousands of Barcelona fans.

"Please?" She pulls on the sleeve of your white coat and you're suddenly disarmed up her looking up at you with pleading eyes.

So after a brief team meeting after the game, you turn down any invitations from your teammates about going over the game or getting food. Instead, you find yourself waiting on a street corner waiting for Aitana to pick you up.

After finding you, Aitana drives the two of you to her apartment where you relax on her nice sofa eating the pasta with salmon that she had meal planned the previous day.

It's nice when you get to do this- which isn't often since the distance and the fact that your relationship isn't exactly public knowledge make it difficult. But when it happens you couldn't be happier with her leaning against you and your arm around her shoulders as she narrates whatever is playing on the TV since you don't know Catalan.

You sigh when Aitana leans into you, "You play good." She whispers lowly and you smile slightly at the admittance.

Aitana is known to dislike Real Madrid so each compliment comes as a small reward.

"Thanks, baby but no one plays better than you." You lean down to pinch her side and she lets out a small yelp before jumping on you in retaliation.

She tries to grab you're hands as you tickle her before she finally pins your hands to your sides as she straddles you on the sofa. You smirk and lean forwards to kiss her but she turns her head before you can reach her lips and then sticks out her tongue.

"Please?" You try to plead with her slightly, pretending to thrash against her grip even though you and her knew that you could easily overpower her.

Aitana laughs before leaning down and kissing you slowly, her hands slipping off your wrists to hold your face. With your hands now free, you bring her closer until you're chest to chest with your strong arms around her waist while you deepen the kiss.

"Bedroom-" You say between heated kisses and she nods, so you slowly get up off the sofa still kissing her- your hands now in the back of her sweatpants, palming her ass making her moan lightly into your mouth

You suddenly break away to look at Aitana. She's a vision and if you could you would take a photo, her hair is slightly mused and lips red from kissing you. Mouth open as she tries to catch her breath and shirt uncovering her stomach from where you had lifted it.

You grab her hand and lead her to the bedroom you know so well by now.

And that's how you ended up with this morning. Aitana rushing around the apartment trying to gather her training things while you still lay in bed.

"Can't they have given you a day off?" You croak out, voice deep with sleep still.

Aitana slides across the bedroom floor in her socks as she picks up a black training top from the floor-

"I work hard- no break." She explains as she slips the top on then shoves her shoes on before looking at you. You're shirtless in her bed scrolling through your emails when you catch her looking, you glace at the clock on your phone; 8:30 AM.

"You're gonna be late, love." You smirk at her from the comfort of her sheets.

"Don't want you slacking on that hard work now, do we?"

Aitana jumps on you and you laugh before kissing her goodbye then giving her ass a light slap as she rolls out of bed to make her way to training.

After a little while you hear a accented goodbye and the door slam, leaving you alone.

Meanwhile, Aitana was frantically driving to training and she eventually made it to training on time- gathering her things out of the car before making her way to breakfast where everyone was already sitting and eating in groups.

She makes a beeline for the food, taking her usual breakfast before joining Mapi and Ingrid.

Mapi whistles lowly at her and Aitana is not amused as she'd normally be, "Rough night?" She jokes as she takes in Aitana's rushed appearance.

Ingrid elbows her and Mapi immediately snaps her mouth shut, "You okay, Aitana?" Ingrid smiles at her kindly.

"Si." Aitana replies shortly and then looks around, feeling as though everyone is staring at her for some reason.

She shovels another spoon full of breakfast into her mouth before asking in Catalan, "Is there something on my face?"

Mapi giggles slightly, "On your face, no, but that is a bold choice of jumper.... I didn't know you were a fan."

Aitana furrows her brows and looks at her top, the white Real Madrid logo is fully visible against the black of the jumper and she immediately spits out the water she had in her mouth.

This could not be happening, she had sworn that was a Barca logo when she looked in the mirror this morning.

Her hand goes to cover the logo before ripping the top off completely- only to reveal the England training shirt you had been wearing in her apartment the night before.

Aitana's face is so red she looks like she might explode and Ingrid reaches out to comfort her as Mapi laughs her ass off.

"It's okay.. they always have spare kits."

As if it could get any worse, Lucy spots the bring colour of the shirt, clearly recognising it.

"I didn't know you were English, Tana!" She teases from the table next to theirs.

"I-No..." Aitana tries to explain but eventually just accepts her fate and eats her breakfast with Mapi laughing under her breath and Lucy guessing which Lioness she was sleeping with.

"Oh! It's Y/N!" Lucy suddenly yelled and Aitana blushed furiously at your name, suddenly getting up and walking to the changing rooms.

She changes into the spare kits the management keeps and wishes she could start the day again.

The teasing continues throughout the whole day and by the end of it, Aitana is sure that the whole team knows that the two of you are dating.

When she later lets you know on the phone as you make your way back to Madrid, all you can do is laugh and tell her you love her.

[jadyn2303]

Story time!

when I was in kindergarden through like 3rd grade, my friends and I all played this game that I don't even know the name of anymore. But it was so fun. So you have like the good guys and the bad guys and we spent every recess trying to kill Ethan who was the ring leader behind everything. And he had like two other people that were his henchmen that he would send to get in our way. And I was the leader of the other side, and he turned one of my friends to his side and I was trying to get her back but she wouldn't come back and instead stayed with Ethan. I don't think we ever ended it either it just kept going.

It was unbelievably fun and quite possibly the inspiration behind 90% of my story ideas today. I miss those days.

lately my kids have been playing Baby Knife, which consists of somebody acting as a baby with knife hands chasing people while going "baby knife baby knife" over and over. is this a thing or are they just insane

[marauder-misprint]

happy 500 followers i’m so happy for you!!

can you write 62 for the dialogue prompt with remus? maybe she’s james’ sister and a flirt just like him. bc jealous rem ✅✅ they’re dumb for each other but sooo oblivious

Thank you for the request ❤︎

I definitely had a moment writing where I was laughing to myself. You flirt with Remus for years: James has no problem. You say one flirtatious line to Sirius: James asks what's wrong with you.

What you need

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

2.9k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, angst

You and James were dual threats. Quidditch stars, academic weapons when you chose to be, friendly, attractive and flirtatious. He had his sights set on Lily and you had yours on Remus. Your methods, however, differed. While James showered Lily with compliments and asked her out daily, you had a more gentle approach. You were drawn to Remus, plenty happy to just sit in his presence. You showered him with compliments as well and made him the center of your world, but you felt that, like Lily, he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. 

You didn’t let it deter you though. You knew he was more reserved than the rest of the Marauders. You decided you would play the long game and wait. He would ask you out. Eventually. 

You collapsed next to Remus on the couch in the common room with an exaggerated sigh. You leaned your head on his shoulder to see what book he was reading.

“The various color changes in the wiggenweld brewing process are essential to the process and without them, the potion will be rendered useless. Substitutions, while appropriate in other potions, will drastically reduce the effectiveness,” you read over his shoulder. “Merlin, Moony, what are you reading? I know Slug didn’t assign this.”

“Just reading up on healing potions. Never know when you’ll need one,” he said.

You hummed and adjusted your body so you were closer to him. 

“Must be something more interesting going on now, though, right?”

“Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail all have detention.”

“I know,” you laughed. “Maybe we could do something! You know, just the two of us!”

You tried to not sound too excited at the idea. It was a rare opportunity that the other three had detention while you and Remus got off scot-free. 

“Oh, well, I was planning on reading…”

“You could read out loud?” you suggested, desperate for some attention from him. “Maybe I’d learn something.”

“No good at reading out loud,” he mumbled.

“It’d be good practice, Moons. You know I won’t judge. Plus, you have a nice voice.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his face turn a pink hue. You nudged him gently. 

“Come on, read to me,” you sang softly. 

Remus, feeling flustered, stood up.

“Please excuse me,” he said, leaving you on the couch alone.

You watched him retreat to his dorm with a frown on your face. Once again, it hadn’t gone as you had hoped. This wasn’t the first time you had alone time with Remus and he left just after you made him blush. You grumpily moved over into the spot he previously occupied. It was warm and faintly smelled of him; it was the second best thing right now. 

It didn’t take long before Lily sat down in the squashy armchair near you. 

“Why the long face Potter?” she asked. “Missing brother dearest and the troubled gang?” 

You made a face at her, earning you a laugh. Oh, how James would’ve smiled and stared if he were here. 

“They aren’t all in detention, Lils,” you told her.

“Well, you’re not. That would be at least one.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “No, um, Remus is upstairs. Reading.”

“Huh. Doesn’t he usually read down here when they aren’t around?”

“Mhmm.” You took a deep breath. “He was for a bit.”

Lily nodded. “You’re in his spot, aren’t you?”

“Maybeeee,” you replied quietly, turning your face to look at the fire. “Smells like ‘im,” you added in a mumble.

She laughed again. “Potter, you’re doomed.”

You looked back at her so she could see you roll your eyes and then you returned your gaze to the flames. You knew you were doomed. You would follow Remus to the ends of the earth. You sat next to him whenever you could. You knew how he liked his tea and which quill was his favorite. You knew his ranking of tables in the library, the ones best for studying alone, studying in a group and prank planning. You knew which sweater was the comfiest because he wore it after every full moon. You adored him and he couldn’t seem to stand to be alone with you for more than a few minutes. 

“So, what’d you say to him?”

“What?” Your head snapped back to Lily.

“He was reading in that spot and now he’s not. What made him go upstairs?”

“I asked him to read to me.”

“That all?” 

You nodded, with a confused look on your face. If Lily thought it would’ve taken more to chase Remus away, perhaps something was up with Remus that you didn’t know about.

“Bit strange. I thought he would read to you,” she said lightly. Then she pulled out her own book and waved it in front of your face. “I could read to you if you want.”

“Not the same and you know it. But, if I were James…” you teased. 

“If you were James, I’d be up in our dorm avoiding him.”

Like Remus is doing…

“You read. In your head. I’m going to the pitch... I need air.”

---

When you went to the pitch alone, you used it as a time to think, to clear your head. Did you need to practice because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin this week? Yes. But you also need to think. You’ve loved Remus for years and, well, something clicked while you were flying. He just didn’t like you that way and you had to make your peace with that. 

You started small. You didn’t sit next to Remus at breakfast although you still had his tea ready for him when he arrived at the table. A look of confusion passed over his face when he saw you sitting between Sirius and Mary. He didn’t say anything about it, nor did anyone else. 

Your next step was more direct. You sat next to Otto Bagman in your first class instead of Lily. That caught the eye of some people. Even more so when you let your hand linger on his shoulder longer than you should have and flashed him your brilliant smile. You laughed loudly at his lackluster jokes. 

During the next class, you chose Stubby Boardman. And Gildeory Lockhart in the next. And Gideon Prewett. And Bertram Aubrey. Each got your flirtatious treatment. None made you feel like Remus did, but it was nice to have their attention. 

At dinner, you pulled a move that none of them were expecting. You sat between Sirius and Mary like you had at breakfast. But you sat closer to Sirius than you usually did. It was a closeness you reserved solely for Remus. 

The boys were discussing their next prank and determined that they would need to sneak into Slughorn’s private stores first in order to pull it off.

“I think Sirius should be the distraction. He’s got something super captivating about him, don’t cha think?” you said, leaning forward a bit. 

You flashed him a soft smile as you rested your hand on his shoulder. If you hadn’t been looking at Sirius, you would’ve seen the glares that he immediately received from both James and Remus. 

“Don’t know if Slug is particularly captivated by me, love,” Sirius said, looking down at you and matching your soft smile. Then a wicked glint appeared in his eyes as he turned back to the boys. “But, running in yelling about an exploding potion down the corridor? See how fast the old man can run!” 

James’ expression changed in a flash. He slammed his hand down on the table.

“Brilliant, Padfoot!” 

Remus, on the other hand, let his glare hold longer, only dropping it when Peter addressed him, asking him to repeat what they needed to get from storage. You remained close to Sirius for the rest of the meal as you offered your ideas for getting past Slughorn and for the actual prank. When you excused yourself after you finished, James followed you out of the hall and walked with you back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he asked.

“Obviously.”

“So then, what was that back there? What’s going on with you and Sirius?”

You stopped walking in shock. You spend years flirting with Remus and no comments from James, but one comment toward Sirius and now he’s suddenly concerned with your love life? James turned to fully face you and you frowned at the concern on his face.

“Nothing. There’s nothing between me and Sirius,” you said, sounding a bit incredulous. 

“Then what the bloody hell was that comment at dinner? He’s like super captivating, he he he,” he mimicked in a falsetto.

You took a calculated step toward James while reaching for your wand.

“I do not sound like that.”

“What was the comment for then?” he repeated the question for the third time. “You don’t flirt with Padfoot.” 

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes. 

“I had… a moment of clarity. Obviously, Moony isn’t right for me and I’ll get over him with whoever I need to.” 

You huffed before stalking away from your brother. He stood there and watched you leave, utterly shocked by what you said. Obviously was a strong word in his opinion. He thought the obvious thing was the effect you had on Remus; Remus was hopelessly in love with but too insecure to do anything and you were waiting for him to make a move. 

You continued to flirt with the boys throughout the rest of the week, with Gideon being the main recipient. Being a fellow Gryffindor and on the quidditch team gave him an easy foot up over the rest. James didn’t say anything more to you, really just being glad it wasn’t Sirius but still showing his concern nonverbally from across the room. 

When he could, Remus would find an excuse to leave whenever you were with Gideon. He couldn’t dismiss how sick it made him feel. Somehow he had been the one receiving your attention for so long that he didn’t realize how much of his day was actually spent with you around, and he didn’t realize how cold he’d feel without your warmth. Instead, he now had to watch Gideon bathe in your compliments and subtle touches. Remus hated it. 

When the weekend came, the whole school descended on the quidditch pitch for an exciting game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin always brought excitement. Every student donned either green or red, even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The game was a compilation of incredible plays and dirty moves. In the end, Gryffindor pulled through as your seeker caught the snitch. Usually, after a Gryffindor win, you’d search for Remus’ arms the moment you landed, but this time was different. You immediately found Gideon and let his arms be the ones to wrap around you and spin you around. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t mind that it wasn’t Remus; it was nice to be the one receiving the doting for once. 

Gideon’s attention followed you all the way back to the common room for the party that ensued. You knew you had eyes on you - you could feel them. In the past, after a win, you’d have one drink in your hand and you’d nurse it while hanging around the outskirts of the party with Remus. You’d maybe do shots with James because no win was possible without the Potter Twins. This time, however, you were not standing around the edge of the party with Remus. Nor were you nursing a singular drink. 

You were multiple drinks in and dancing with Gideon. His hands were traveling your body and you made no moves to stop him. You just kept moving to the music and taking sips of your drink. 

Remus felt like throwing up at the sight. He had half a mind to walk up to you and tear you away from the ginger. He knew you could do better than Gideon, but if asked who, Remus would want to say himself, but was he better than Gideon? Once again, Remus let his insecurities get the best of him; he retreated to his dorm unable to watch you dance like that with another guy who wasn’t him. 

You finished your drink and felt Gideon lean into your ear. 

“Do you want to celebrate somewhere more… private?” he whispered. 

You smiled at him before saying, “Refill first!” 

James had been keeping an eye on you and Gideon for a while. He didn’t like the way that Gideon was touching you, just as much as he didn’t like how much you were drinking. You were certainly not in your right mind. He intercepted you on your way to the drink table.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said curtly before leading you to the stairs. 

You pouted but allowed yourself to be ushered up to his dorm. In your head, you planned to sneak back down to the party the instant that James left you in his dorm. Once inside, he brought over to his bed and you sat down, crossing your arms. 

“You need to sober up a bit. Um, here’s a water. You know extra blankets are in my trunk. Loo’s over there. Got your wand? Need anything else?” 

You groaned in annoyance. “I’m fine, James,” you slurred. “But you know what I actually need.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“To get over these damn feelings for Lupin!” you basically spat. “Can’t very well do that if I’m up here, can I? He won’t ask me out, won’t kiss me, can’t stand to be around me. Why you stopping me from moving on?” 

“I-I…” he stuttered, trying not to look over at where Remus was sitting on his own bed with wide eyes. “I’m preventing you from making a decision you might regret.”

“James… James, James, James. I’m fine. Just let me get over being in love with Remus.”

James can’t help it. His eyes flickered to Remus. Yours immediately followed where his went. Remus was staring at you with a faint blush on his cheeks. Because why did you just say that you needed to get over being in love with him?

“Shit,” you muttered, falling back onto James’ bed. “Now I’ve said too much.”

“I’m… going to leave… and let you two… talk,” James said slowly, trying to sound casual and topping it off with snaps and finger guns.

“You’re… in love with me?” Remus asked nervously.

You made a noise that’s a mix of a scoff and laugh.

“Only been bloody head over heels for you for years, you twat.”

“You’ve been,” he muttered, not quite believing you. 

“A girl can only flirt so hard,” you said with a heavy sigh. 

“You were flirting?” 

“With you. For years. Keep up, Lupin.”

There was a slight pause before he said softly, “You don’t call me Lupin.”

“I didn’t when I was in love with you.” 

“Was?”

“Moony, Merlin’s fucking beard,” you exclaimed, propping yourself up on your elbows briefly. “Did you not just hear me tell James that I’m trying to get over you? You clearly don’t like me back so stop making it harder!”

You let yourself fall back onto James’ bed with a ‘humph.’ You stared up at the canopy. Then you felt the bed sink next to you and you don’t need to look over to know that Remus has joined you. 

“You actually like me?” he whispered. 

“If I have to say it one more time, I swear, Moony, I will curse-”

“You like me.” This time it was a statement. Remus doesn’t believe it yet, but he didn’t need you to finish your threat. “And it’s real. Not a prank or cruel joke or anything?”

You rolled onto your side so that you could see him.

“Stop pretending to be dense. It’s been hard enough coming to terms with you not liking me like that.”

“No!” 

You blinked at him with a confused expression.

“Um, I… I do like you. Like that.”

“Remus… don’t tease me right now. You can’t stand to be alone with me for more than a minute.”

“Because I don’t trust myself to not kiss you.” He swallowed and allowed his eyes to flick down to your lips. “It’s easier to control myself when James, or anyone else, is around. But when it’s just you and me, and you say those sweet things… I just…”

“Those sweet things,” you repeated with quiet laughter. “You mean my flirting?”

“Yes. That.”

He stopped talking for a moment. He reached out to caress your face. 

“I just thought you could do better than me.” 

You scoffed at the idea that someone was able to be better than Remus.

“But seeing you with Aubrey, Lockhart, Bagman… Prewett…” Remus sighed. “It was hell.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’d like me to keep flirting with you and only you?” you asked softly before your teasing nature returned. “I don’t know about that, Moony. I might need something in return.” 

“Anything.”

“Ask me out?”

“I… I can do that.” He cleared his throat. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me? Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“Of course, you idiot,” you said before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

You hummed.

“Never flirt with Prewett again. It was nauseating.” 

You laughed. “Just kiss me until my brother comes back, Moony.”

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ݁˖ 𝕷IKE THAT ᝰ! D.A.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ synopsis: you were dani’s favourite, you knew that. of all the girls and guys she had, she always came back to you. but lately, you’ve found yourself detaching from the fwb arrangement; staying out late more and dodging her calls, but she’s determined to have you back to her--'cause all those girls (they don’t) know what you need

warnings: angst, slight!nsfw, sexual content mentioned, toxic!dani, straight men (ew), eventual fluff, would turn into series

turntable now playing: like that - babymonster

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the--” What the fuck. What the actual fuck. This was the fourth call you haven’t picked up tonight. Daniela wasn’t just growing impatient, she was livid.

You and Daniela met in college, your roommate, Lara always hung around this group of girls you would eventually befriend.

You met Sophia first, the ambitious go-getter with a type of energy you always struggled to keep up with. Then came Megan, who introduced you to the deep, relaxing world of Yacht rock. The two of you shared a deep love for tanning in the Hawaiian sun and loving alternative fashion.

Third was Yoonchae; she was quiet, a complimentary presence contrary to the chaotic energy the other three brought.

It was through Manon--whom was the smartest, and the most well-versed woman you knew--did you come to meet Daniela. You were trying to get French lessons from Manon, who was somewhat fluent in French (and 16 other languages), and you’d see her roommate loitering around the dorm.

And with knowing Daniela came succumbing to her charm.

Very charismatic, but had little heart for good intentions. You knew she had a deck of names just on her phone. You knew she could just phone up whomever she’d wanted, and they would come, but you didn’t care. It felt too good when you had her attention alone, when she wouldn’t care if her phone pinged when you were making out in her mustang at the top of the couple go-to of all LA’s trails.

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but--” Daniela chucked her phone into the passenger seat beside her, running a hand through her hair. Fifth time without an answer. You’ve never done this before.

She was making all kinds of reason as to why you’d go mia:

a) You could be mad at her. The last time the two of you were hanging out, alone, she did leave you in her room high and dry when she got a call from Caleb and his drinking buddies. She assured you she owed the guys a round of drinks for helping her cheat on her mid-term the week earlier, but you were not happy, and definitely worried about Manon coming home.

b) Maybe you’d found someone else. After weeks of playing this push and pull game with you, Daniela got really drunk one night and didn’t feel like arguing when you began scolding her for standing you up and didn’t even bother texting. She flat out told you, “move on then. nobody’s making you stay, so what’s stopping you?” It was harsh, but the two of you never spoke of that night. Maybe you finally listened to that advice.

c) You died. There were no other options. You had to be dead.

Daniela had never felt so out of control before. She prided herself in being able to string boys and girls along with just her pinkie finger. She never committed to anybody, she loved toying with her roster more than anything.

But every time she’d end things with her other flings, she’d come back to you without fail.

And she would praise you, whether she’d be making her mark on you or taking you out for some fancy meal she wouldn’t let you pay for, she’d make sure to make you feel special.

Until she found the next woman who wanted to make her the ultimate bi-curious experiment, or the group of frat guys who wanted to “just go out and party it up” with her alone.

You weren’t exactly bothered by it at first, you were thankful you got even that shred of her attention. But the more you fooled around, the more you worried for her when Manon would call you late to ask if you knew where she was; or when she’d abruptly leave a hang-out she asked for to go party. When you confided in Lara, the only person beyond the two of you who knew of the situation, she reminded you of the lineup you had waiting for you before Daniela came into your life.

You were young, beautiful, and full of life. Why get weighed down by somebody as careless and immature as Daniela?

So you started hanging out with your friends more again. Lara and Manon would drag you out to the most exclusive nightclubs and bars around LA, some other nights Sophia and Yoonchae would bring you out on movie nights and have takeout and play games all night. On weekends, Megan would take you out on long drives along the coast of Californian beaches, spending hours working on your tan and basking in the sun until both of you had bikini lines along your chest.

Daniela was no longer a priority in your life, like you in hers.

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the beep--” Sixth attempt in, she can’t bring herself to end the call anymore.

Daniela was definitely going through the five stages of grief; denial, anger--now, bargaining.

She thought hard, really hard about all the people you’ve been spending more time with lately. She knew you and the girls were together a lot, but she also remembered this new guy who often popped up on your phone recently; Jay.

Jay frequented the gym you worked out at, he had the sexiest smirk you had ever seen on a man.

Daniela knew. She had briefly tried flirting with Jay once. She was at lunch with some of the friends she knew through Heeseung and Kai, and Jay pretty much sat and looked pretty. He kept to himself and Daniela loved a challenge, so she tried hitting on him. Alas, he turned down her advances, and now she knew why--‘cuz he was dead set on you.

She knew you better than that. She knew you had to be doing this to piss her off; and god damn it, it’s working.

“Hello?” It took her a minute to actually register you had picked up--the seventh call, the seventh time she’d clicked on your name, the seventh time she told herself she was acting far too desperate for her own liking.

“Where the fuck have you been?” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, “I’ve been calling your call all night, I thought I was gonna come by tonight.”

She could hear a busy party on your other end of the line.

“Sorry, Sophia and I met up with some friends. What’s up?”

“Friends? Like who? What club are you at right now, I’ll pull up,” Daniela started her car, hearing her engine roar.

“I--Okay, wait, I’m sorry, Dani, can we talk later?” you apologized quickly. Daniela could hear the sound of a man’s voice faintly, and before she could protest, you ended the call.

“Come on, screenager, I thought we were unplugging tonight.” You follow your gaze, met with a tall, muscular build before you with two drinks in his hands. He’s staring at you, and when his eyes lock with yours, you feel a flash of something—interest.

You’re not sure why, but you felt hesitant. The thought of talking to someone new—someone not Daniela—felt foreign. But you shoved it aside, forcing yourself to smile as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, taking the drink.

“Sorry, just a concerned roommate,” you lied, trying to keep your voice steady. Why the hell does it feel this complicated?

“Lara, right?” he asks, “I share a lecture with her. She’s cool.”

You nod, conversing mindlessly. You exchange small talk for a few minutes, but your mind keeps drifting. There’s this nagging thought at the back of your mind—Daniela.

It doesn’t help that you saw she had tried to reach you six times before you picked up. She’d been calling, texting, and you—well, you just couldn’t deal with it. You were thankful for the loud music and strong stench of sweat and hormones, you could barely hear your own thoughts. Part of you was hoping she’d just get the hint and leave you alone for a while. You were trying to find your balance, trying to feel like you again, without the weight of whatever was happening between you two.

But now, as you laugh and talk with Jay, you can’t ignore the fact that you keep glancing away, his words tuning out.

It was then did you see a familiar head through the crowd of dancing people and drunk college students.

She’s here.

Daniela is standing by the entrance, her eyes scanning the crowd. You can’t see much more than the back of her head, but the way she holds herself, her golden curls, you know it’s her. Your stomach tightens.

"Everything okay?" Jay asked, noticing your distracted gaze.

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice flat, not realizing how much you’ve been affected by Daniela’s presence. You try to brush it off and focus back on Jay, but the sight of Daniela in the crowd feels like it’s pulling you in, tugging at you. Minutes later, you see her moving through the crowd, eyes trained on you like she’s found her target. There’s a flicker of annoyance in your chest. What does she want now? Why is she here?

But before you can process any of it, you feel her presence beside you—close enough that her perfume hits your nose. It’s familiar, warm, and immediately intoxicating.

You turn your head to meet her gaze, and for a moment, time slows. Daniela looks different tonight—darker, more intense.

“y/n,” she said, her voice low. “We need to talk.”

“Do you know her?” Jay asked, but you couldn’t look away.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. The club’s music thundered around you, but her words cut through it all. Jay noticed the shift, raising an eyebrow, but Daniela doesn’t even glance in his direction. It’s all about you now.

“I’m kinda busy,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, but your voice shook. You hated how weak you sound. Why the hell does she do this to you?

Daniela smirked, taking a step closer to you, her presence so overwhelming that you can’t breathe. Her eyes search your face, as if trying to read you. “No, you’re not. Come on.“

“Yo, she’s not comfortable, back up.” Jay held a hand up in front of Daniela, keeping her from stepping any closer. “Get lost, you can catch her later when you lose the attitude.”

“This doesn’t concern you, bird face.” Daniela held a hand up, “I want you

You want to pull away, to tell her to leave you alone. But there’s this pull between you two, this magnetic force you’ve never been able to escape, and for some stupid reason, you find yourself following her toward the edge of the dance floor, away from Jay and Sophia, away from the crowd.

“Dani, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, her hand suddenly grabbing yours, pulling you toward a quieter corner.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, her voice sharp, but there’s an edge of vulnerability beneath it. It catches you off guard, making your breath catch in your throat.

“No, I’ve just been around,” you say weakly, though you can tell it’s a poor excuse, “My phone was on silent.”

She doesn’t buy it. You can see the way her eyes darken. She takes another step closer, and this time, you can feel her body heat, the tension crackling in the air between you.

“I care about you,” Daniela says, the words coming out in a low, strained whisper. It’s so different from the way she normally talks to you—abrasive, defiant—but tonight, she’s softer, almost desperate. “I don’t care about the rules, the games. I just want you to come home with me.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You blinked, trying to process them, but they’re already sinking in, wrapping around you, binding you to her. You’ve never heard Daniela speak like that before—not with this rawness, this vulnerable edge.

But you knew better than to give in that easily.

“I can’t just leave Sophia,” you scoffed, “And Jay, he’s been super nice to me--!”

Amidst the dance floor, away from any curious eyes, she grabbed your hips and begun grinding against you. Her front pressed flush against your back, her toned stomach grazing the small of your back. You felt your words catch in your throat, your brain frying the moment you felt her hands on you. It felt too familiar, too comforting for your liking.

“If I come close, baby, would you like that?” she whispered against your ear, you felt her lips smirk. Her fingers traced lines against your hot skin. “‘Cause all those boys, they don’t know what you need, but I… I know how to make sure you never leave.” Her voice had your knees bucking in the middle of the club. Jay and Sophia long forgotten as you focused on your hips moving in the same rhythm as this world class dancer’s.

You shook your head, unsure of what to say, but it’s too late.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. The reality of it hit you all at once—the unspoken truth of what you’ve been trying to deny for so long. You cared about her. You cared more than you were willing to admit, more than you’ve allowed yourself to feel. The thought of Jay, of anyone else, made your stomach churn.

And as you stand there, with Daniela’s hand gently gripping yours, her gaze locking onto yours with a desperate intensity, you realized you’d put up with her childish, immature tantrums if it meant you had her under your thumb like this.

You nodded, just a tiny movement, and Daniela’s expression softened immediately.

“Come home with me,” she whispered, the words almost reverent, like a plea. Can you imagine that? Having Daniela Avanzini beg for you.

You don’t say anything at first. You just let her take your hand, and for the first time, you allow yourself to follow her—heart pounding, but this time, not out of fear, but something else entirely. You liked it just like that.

[theeyecrab]

Closing my eyes, I knew my life was about to end. I was old, loved, and had the chance to see my own children and grandchildren grow, and it was time. I was sick for a while, but it was not painful or sad. I've had a good life, and I was at peace. I just needed one last thing.

“Lisa, darling, could you please give me Everdell?” I asked.

She looked at me, confused, and said “Eh sure dad, but what do you need it for? I thought you wanted to sleep.” I didn’t answer, just smiled, and she brought the game to me anyway. I think she knew my end was near as well. 

I held the game over my chest, and closed my eyes one final time.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in my room anymore. I was in a very white space, and there was a cloaked figure standing near me. YOUR TIME HAS COME. I heard a voice. Well, maybe heard is not the right word. More like felt. I felt the words inside my head. “I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but, are you Death?” YES. I heard the voice again, and smiled. Then I handed Death my copy of Everdell, and said "I hope you don't mind my assumption, but according to our legends you really like games…This one is my favorite. I just wanted to give you a thank you gift for taking me peacefully." THANK YOU. I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO PLAY THIS GAME, BUT I LIKE IT NONTHELESS. I felt the voice echoing inside my head. “Would you like me to teach you? We can play now if you want.” YES. PLEASE.

And so we sat down, me and Death, and we played Everdell. After a long and fun game, I ended up winning. I didn’t think much of it, and expected Death to take me, but then they spoke again. SINCE YOU WON THE GAME, they said, YOU CAN STAY. ALIVE. IF YOU WANT, WE CAN MAKE THIS A WEEKLY THING. PLAYING THE GAME. I was surprised, but thought, why not? “I would very much love that,” I said, “and if you want we can try different games as well.” YES. Death said, and disappeared. When I woke up the next morning, I was no longer sick, and the game was scattered all over the floor.

And that, my darlings, the story of how your great great grandmother is still healthy at her very old age, and how she plays board games with Death themselves every week. Now, it’s time to sleep. Goodnight.

You hand Death your copy of the board game Everdell. "I hope you don't mind my assumption. Acording to our legends you really like games…This one is my favorite. I just wanted to give you a thank you gift for taking me peacefully."

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 18: The One Where Two Roads Diverged in a Wood of GIFs and Written Words

“Lukola Crisis Hotline. How may I be of service?”

Me: Houston, we have a problem.

Dad: Do tell!

Me: You won’t believe who showed up last night! –

Dad: Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Whoa! I don’t know what to say! Wait – let me grab my Coke and my smokes. <waiting> Okay, I’m back. So, Misty appeared out of nowhere with Thang?! Well, this just got fun! <laughing>

For clarity’s sake, my father tends to give everyone a pet name. Some of the pet names are funny; some are quite cruel. But if they help him remember who the players are in this fandom (and in any other situation), I’m game to play along. Plus, his pet names tend to add a little comedy relief to whatever is being discussed, especially when it is not an outwardly funny subject.

In Lukola-Land, Luke is “Thang” (it’s actually “Thing” – as in the hand from The Addams Family – but my dad’s accent muddles the pronunciation into “Thang”); Nicola is “Ireland,” for obvious reasons; Antonia is “Misty,” for, umm, the Clint Eastwood movie, “Play Misty for Me;” and Jake is – well, Jake is actually just “Jake” because my father finds the USS Jakola offensive. In fact, when I was discussing the recent fandom events with him on Friday evening, my dad was genuinely shocked to learn the Jakolas still existed. His pet name for the Jakolas is “Fucking Stupid,” by the way.

Moving on to the matter at hand –

There’s been so much “noise” over the past few weeks that, when taken collectively, it is rather eye-opening. We’ve got Luke’s mother posting on Facebook about “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus.” The leaked funeral video and photos (by allegedly Luke’s family). The Best in Show pap pictures of Nicola and Jake. The “just friends” interview. The disappearance of Jake (because he’s rehearsing for a play) and the sudden reemergence of Antonia.

If you’ve noticed from my recent entries on this blog, I have obviously found most of what has happened of late to be comical and not worth putting into written word. Instead, my thoughts have been dumped into GIF stories. To be honest, I was rather disappointed I couldn’t put this last part – Antonia emerging from the misty edges of the forest – entirely into a GIF story. Her reappearance was like a certain Bond villain coming back to life for the seventh time. In other words, it was total cringe. But it also altered an otherwise slow burning campfire into a motherfucking forest fire.

Me: Thoughts?

Dad: I need some time to think about this one – and a cigarette. Or two. Call me back in 15 minutes.

“Psychotic Fan Rescue Center, at your service.”

Me: You’re a dumbass.

Dad: <laughing> Well, this is insane. It makes no sense and it’s a convoluted mess. Why bring Misty back? She was killed off two seasons ago.

Me: No shit, Sherlock.

Dad: Hell, maybe this has all been a nest of vipers.

A nest of vipers? Ah, yes, the idea that we have a group of venomous snakes thrown into the same close-quartered trench – in an every-man-for-himself type situation – each taking strikes at the others whenever their backs are turned.

In Entries 1, 13, and 15 – with an emphasis on “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea” – I wrote about what the Lutonia narrative could look like, if real. I will not rehash in detail those entries here, but I will link them at the end of this entry if you want to read, or reread, them.

Now, the General Audience almost certainly didn’t pay a lick of attention to Antonia when she appeared alongside Luke at the Boss event held January 30 (she’s always just been a Face in the Crowd). But the sudden reappearance of Antonia stopped the Lukolas dead in their tracks because – like my dad said – she was seemingly killed off two seasons ago.

The Lukolas have suddenly found themselves at an intersection of confusion and, likely, a bit of distress. The long and winding road we’ve been traveling along has diverged into two paths – and, no, you cannot travel both.

The problem with the Lutonia narrative has always been that Luke has never formally acknowledged Antonia as his girlfriend. In fact, Luke had the perfect opportunity to do so when he posted about the Boss event on his Instagram grid – but he did not. I could rationalize the idea that Luke and Antonia wanted to keep their relationship private after the Papsmear misstep if it weren’t for the fact that Antonia has been historically loud in her social media posts. We spent the summer and fall with insinuation post after insinuation post from Antonia. Yes, all those posts that alluded to her being with Luke without any actual evidence that she was, in fact, with Luke. By the time Antonia got to “Pasta-gate” in mid-November, the Lukola fandom barely even blinked before dismissing her as, well, the antagonist from “Play Misty for Me.” And this leads to something even more problematic for the USS Lutonia – Luke has never rescued Antonia from being ridiculed and torn apart by the fandom. My dad would call – and has called – Luke a cad for this.

Jumping to the other side of this misshapen triangle, we have Nicola and her Assassin (my dad’s pet name for JVN). Assuming Lutonia is real, the only logical answer for Nicola’s behavior is that she has spent months trolling Luke, Antonia, and <gasp> the fandom. Nicola herself has admitted to being chronically online and, at a minimum, being aware of fan edits – so much so that during the London premiere she commented that she and Luke “can’t do anything” without the fandom reacting to it. Therefore, I will call “foul” on anyone who tries to persuade me that Nicola was unaware of, at a minimum, how the Lukola fandom had reacted to the Claddagh ring, Chaos Week, and the October airplane posts. JVN openly mocking Antonia on social media with, for example, their Slick Back Bun routine only added fuel to this fire.

For shits and giggles – and so I can get to the bend in this road – we will roll with my dad’s “Nest of Vipers” theory for a moment. We will concede that Lutonia is real, which, in my opinion, makes Luke the absolute worst boyfriend in London and Antonia a woman who doesn’t mind being treated like roadkill. It also, unfortunately, makes Nicola and Fan Favorite JVN come off like online bullies – with the only plausible reasoning for the bullying being that Luke and Nicola are at odds with each other. No, I take that back – they’re not at odds with each other – they’re seemingly at war with each other. I’ll even amp this up a bit and throw in the suggestion that, assuming Lutonia is real, Netflix & Co. is aware of the strife between its two Polin actors and are protecting their asset with blurred Polin-Lukola posts to pacify the fandom. Dun-Dun-DUNN! And yes! That was a sly nod to Jake.

Me: Thanks for that. You just made Luke into an absolute prick and gave Antonia’s starring role in “Play Misty for Me” to Nicola.

Dad: Hey, I’m not the one who dug up Misty! That was all Thang!

Me: Then why does everyone say Luke is the nicest person? Nicola, his co-stars –  

Dad: All lies.

Me: Would you STOP?!

Dad: But I’m serious! Thang could be a complete pig behind closed doors and Ireland could be on the verge of a psychotic meltdown because, uhh, maybe she’s obsessed with Thang and pissed he chose Misty.

The unfortunate thing about this Nest of Vipers theory is that I could almost certainly make a convincing argument that it was legit. I’ve always joked with my Inner Circle of Lukolas that no one wants to see me go rogue, especially not – I’ll bite my tongue on that one. But I will emphasize the importance of keeping an open mind when you’re reviewing information. Always consider both sides of the coin. That said, it’s hard to ignore the evidence that was presented to us through the World Tour interviews and behind-the-scenes footage; therefore –

Me: I’m having a hard time believing Luke is someone who wouldn’t protect his girlfriend. He seems to support Nicola online quite a bit. Why wouldn’t he do the same for Antonia?

Dad: <laughing> Fine. Antonia isn’t his girlfriend. Maybe it’s all just a bunch of fuckery like I’ve always said.

“Fuckery” is my dad’s pet name for PR bullshit. If you didn’t pick up on it in previous entries, I am not fond of PR theories. But I also cannot ignore that PR relationships do exist and have for decades (hell, we could go back centuries and find examples of PR relationships across multiple noble and royal families – think about that, naysayers). It was my dad who first sold me on the possibility of Antonia being PR. So, I will consider this road to PR-ville in the same manner as I did the Nest of Vipers theory – with this PR theory having perhaps the better claim.

I mentioned earlier that the General Audience almost certainly paid little attention to Antonia’s existence at the Boss event. Although some people may find what I’m about to say a bit unkind, it doesn’t make it any less valid (and I’m not saying it to be cruel): Antonia, in the overall scheme of things, is of very little importance to the General Audience. She has less than 15 thousand followers on Instagram, even after being connected to a man who has almost three million. However, oddly enough, that didn’t prevent the Daily Mail from dropping a story which predominantly focused on Antonia within the same timeframe that images from the Boss event were being dropped on the Internet. It also didn’t prevent video footage of Luke and Antonia at the Boss event from being leaked online almost immediately – even when there were undoubtedly more famous celebrities attending the event. I’ll be realistic with this next comment, too: Luke may be relevant to the Bridgerton fandom, but that does not mean he is significant to, say, People Magazine’s average reader. So, why the sudden burst of publicity at this event?

I waited to write this entry to see what Luke did with the exposure from the Boss event. Would he finally put Antonia on his Instagram grid? Would he put her in his Instagram stories? Would Antonia post pictures from the event on her Instagram grid or stories? Would Luke unambiguously acknowledge a relationship with Antonia?

Although Luke posted to his Instagram grid and stories about the event, he did not include Antonia – at least not directly. The closest he came to including Antonia was via an Instagram story – on which he did not tag her – of a black screen with a link to a Boss TikTok that included images of Luke and Antonia from the event. The TikTok did not tag Antonia either. Luke did not post Antonia’s image to his grid or his stories.

And Antonia didn’t post about the event at all.

I wasn’t sold on a PR narrative when I started writing this entry, but my eyebrows raised when I saw Luke’s “black screen” Instagram story. This was either Luke attempting to circumvent the Lutonia narrative while throwing Antonia a bone, or it was Luke being an absolute douche of a human being. And, if it’s the latter, Mr. Newton needs to check himself into Assholes Anonymous.

I will concede that a couple of mutuals put up a few stories about the event (which disappeared after 24 hours) and Boss included (and tagged) Luke and Antonia in an Instagram and TikTok reel – without formally identifying Antonia as Luke’s girlfriend. On a side note, Luke could have reposted either of these reels – which tagged Antonia – but he did not. Luke also did not like this Boss Instagram reel with Antonia in it (and he does not have a public TikTok account), but Luke did like a separate Boss post of him and David Beckham (without Antonia). The only news outlets that called Antonia Luke’s “girlfriend” were rag-mags like the Daily Mail and Hello, both of which put an emphasis on Antonia. Digital Spy noted that Luke and Antonia “have yet to officially confirm their relationship.” So outside of some tagged reels (that weren’t reposted or acknowledged by Luke) and rag-mag speculation, what did Antonia get from this?

Dad: Publicity.

A single word but one that resonates throughout an otherwise silent wood.

But to be honest, I’m not entirely convinced this was for publicity. I’m not saying I believe Antonia is Luke’s girlfriend either – that’s a whole cauldron of contradictions on its own. I’m simply intrigued that Antonia has her Instagram tags turned off and she has not yet allowed any Boss event tags to appear on her page. So, outside of some junky rag-mag callouts and a few TikToks, what benefit did Antonia receive? And, if Antonia didn’t truly benefit from this appearance (or, at least she doesn’t appear to be reaping the rewards from a girlfriend or PR standpoint), who did benefit?

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that a series of events had happened one after the other over a relatively short two-week period: (1) Luke’s mum mentioning “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus” in a Facebook response; (2) leaked video and photos of Luke from a funeral; (3) those utterly ridiculous pap pictures of Nicola and Jake; (4) Nicola stating she and Luke were “just friends” in an interview; and (5) the sudden summoning of Antonia after exactly six months of being MIA.

As I sat here writing out the events of the past two weeks – and considering the reappearance of Antonia – I couldn’t help but speculate as to whether each of these events was meant to have a specific purpose that didn’t get its desired result.

The comment by Luke’s mother was so far out in left field, most Lukolas chucked it up to being suspicious and dismissed it as such. The funeral pictures and video released by one of Luke’s family members was quickly scrubbed from social media; therefore, just as quickly ignored. The pap pictures of Nicola and Jake were openly mocked across social media as being staged. The “just friends” comment – after almost a year of, particularly, Nicola dodging that phrase – didn’t seem to send many Lukolas overboard. Is it possible that the fandom’s mild reaction to all these events wasn’t anticipated? Which leads me to wonder if Luke and Nicola wanted a reaction and realized the only way they were going to get it was to play the only card they had left – Antonia.  

When you look at the above referenced events individually and collectively, they appear to indicate a push to shut down the Lukola narrative. Why?

They could have shut down the Lukolas before the World Tour even took off. They could have shut down the Lukolas during the World Tour. They could have shut down the Lukolas after Papsmear. Why wait almost a full year to draw the line in the sand? Especially after every devoted Lukola would argue that (mostly) Nicola has left a trail of Swiftie-like clues to insinuate Lukola is real, and that Luke has made a visible effort to remove Antonia from his narrative.

Whatever the reasoning may be, we must admit Antonia’s reappearance had a purpose – and one that we need to respect. I have a hard time believing Luke would voluntarily step in the same pile of dog shit he stepped in back in June without a valid and significant reason for doing so.

And this is where I will draw the line.

I will not speculate further about why Antonia suddenly rose from the ashes of Manderley – and I will not tell you which road to take from here. That’s something you need to do on your own but, be warned that regardless of which road you choose – the one where you conclude Luke and Antonia are a couple, or the one where you decide Antonia is playing the role of PR distraction – the Lukolas are currently fighting a losing battle.

The Lukolas have become collateral damage. They’ve either been caught in the crossfire of an online war between Luke and Nicola (and their respective sidekicks) over, presumably, Antonia; or they’re the unwitting victims of some messy PR bullshit that has resulted in Lukolas being bullied across every social media platform by rabid Jakolas and Anti-Lukes.

Amazingly, though, many Lukolas remain resilient.

When the going gets tough…

But sometimes the tough don’t get going.

Yesterday, someone wrote to me, “Why are we still here? Just when we think something good is finally going to happen we get pushed back down. I’m tired of the dumb games.”

I rarely answer “Asks,” but my response to this comment is:

“Two roads diverged in a wood…”

Two roads.

One road is quite disheartening and the other is shrouded in underbrush.

But what you've overlooked is that there is an alternate path – a third road – the one that brought you to this point.

Turn around.

That road takes you back home – and, if you’re ready to go home, go home. It’s okay. It takes an unbelievable amount of courage to admit you’ve had enough. Remember that saying – “A wise woman once said, ‘fuck this shit,’ and she lived happily ever after.”

Take your time and decide what makes the most sense to you.

Dad: What are you thinking?

Me: Of a poem.

Dad: Oh, which one today?

Me: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by…”

Dad: Which road is that…?

P.S. Just for a bit of comic relief at the end of an otherwise somber post (not even Dad could make it lighthearted), I just wanted to say:

I love eating grapes.

IYKYK.

Those links I promised:

[mayahawkesfirstwife]

Quiet

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

Pairings: Se-mi x Fem! Reader

Summary: Eating Se-mi out under the blankets during lights out.

Warnings: Smut, public sex, lowk Sub Se-mi, fingering, oral sex, teasing, etc.

Author Note: Literally seen a post just like this and wanted to make one but longer idk😭 Sorry if theres any mistakes!!

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

It was lights out and you were in bed with Se-mi, your girlfriend, in her bed in the corner at the bottom of one of the bunk beds.

She saved your life multiple times through out the games but the most recent time was the most serious.

You felt as if maybe you could repay her for her hard work of saving herself and her girlfriend.

You were laying beside her, glancing over at her, she’s so hot. You felt yourself getting turned on.

“Honey?” You whisper, leaning into her ear.

She was laying on her back with her arm behind her head, eyes shut, she opened them when you called for her and looked over at you.

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

“I want to repay you…” You hum, quietly into her ear.

“For what?” She whispers, eyebrows furrowed.

“Saving me so much, you’re so sweet…” You smile, kissing her cheek.

You peck her lips, “I’m so turned on, baby.” You whisper, your hand trails down her stomach and to the waistband of her green pants.

She glances around, making sure no one was watching.

There were noises like some whispering, rustling, and snoring so it wasn’t silent which was good.

“Se-mi?”

She looks back at you as you sigh, “I’m so hungry.”

She’s surprised the topic has changed so quickly, yet you’re still playing with her waistband.

She didn’t seem to understand though, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“Can I eat your pussy?” You whisper into her ear, she gasps lightly.

You pout, “Please? Please? I’ll do it so good, I promise.”

She shifts in her spot, “Yes, yes…” She nods repeatedly.

She tugs her green pants and her underwear down to her ankles and you look around before crawling under the blanket between her open legs.

Fuck, she was so wet.

You kiss her right inner thigh and then her left inner thigh, before licking the right one and then sucking on the left.

You move closer and closer, she lifts the blanket sightly, “Don’t tease me.”

She pulls it back down to cover you and you giggle, kissing her clit.

You grip her inner thighs and lick a stripe up her folds to her clit before pulling back. She tastes so fucking sweet.

You do this about five times before her legs tighten around your neck and you kiss her clit, she was dripping wet and ready.

She sighs as your middle and index finger slid slowly into her sopping pussy.

She hisses lowly, you let her adjust before pumping your fingers in and out of her wet pussy.

Wet squelching noises are heard lowly as you push your hair behind your ears before licking up her clit again.

You curl your fingers as you finally start to suck on her clit sloppily.

“Fuck.” She whimpers lowly, you suck harder and she makes more whines, you pinch her thigh and she stops.

Se-mi is staring up at the bunk above her, eyes squeezed shut as you’re sucking her clit so well and finger fucking her wet pussy.

She’s trying so hard not to moan and pull the blankets down and grip your hair and fuck your face.

She moans, whines and whimpers lowly a few times, one whimper was too loud which caused you to pinch her thigh.

She gritted her teeth at the feeling but started to bite down on her lip to keep quiet and gripping the side of the bed.

Under the cover, you are pulling back from her clit to breathe, you lick your lips so her taste could linger.

You curl your fingers over and over and start to flick your tongue on her clit as fast as you could.

You start sucking on her clit and flicking your tongue on it, switching from one to the other every five seconds which drove Se-mi crazy.

She squeezed her thighs around your head, you knew by how she was squeezing around your curled fingers that she was close.

You suck as hard as you can on her clit and curl your fingers just right as she came.

She pants, you pull back after she finished and lick up her juices, trying to clean her up.

She squirmed under you, feeling overstimulated she literally grabs your head and pushes on it with a small whimper.

You lift the blanket and sat beside her, licking your lips and then making sure she watches you as you suck your fingers of all her juices.

“You taste so fucking sweet, Sem…”

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

[jarofstyles]

I don’t know if you’d want to write this but I’ve been reading some stuff with primal play and I feel like you’d do a good job with it! Or something with that vibe. Anything with that, I’d love to see!

Omg I’d love to do that! I’ll try and do something with Wolfrry and that at some point as a whole one shot but I’ve whipped up an enemies/lovers little thing for you. Thank you for the suggestion!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 230+ exclusive writings and series.

Warnings- primal play, cum play, edging, a bit of degrading, exhibitionism, Dom!Harry, finger sucking, daddy kink if you squint

————————

He had her where he had been waiting to get her. Pretty, perky, perfect Y/N knelt on the floor, the filthy bathroom floor of the club, looking like the slut she was- the girl he had been chasing for months now, being met with resistance, a cat and mouse game that made him want her even more.

Her hair was a mess from his fingers, her face flushed, and her lips swollen from kissing, the unusual unkempt appearance making his cock throb. It was obvious she had her hair done tonight, perfectly pin straight and pretty as it had flowed over her shoulder- now ruined from his hands. He took it as a stroke to the ego, making the only girl he ever knew to be so put together into a disheveled mess.

He’d gotten her where they both knew she wanted to be, holding one of his digits in her mouth, sucking gently as she gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes, mouth hot and her tongue unbelievably soft as she ran it over the underside of the digit. Brushing over the ring at his knuckle even as she pulled back to the tip, he watched her clenched hands squeeze together as they rested on her thighs, waiting for her next command.

This sweet little thing sullying herself by sucking his finger like it was his cock, showing him exactly what he could expect, it only spurred him on. The impatience was starting to show by the minute, just letting her do this. Watching her get more and more desperate. Her tongue swirled around the digit, teasing the tip before taking it deeper, mimicking what he really needed around his dick. “D’you want something, baby?” He feigned innocence as his other hand palmed over his cock through his pants. “Hm?”

He chuckled darkly as she let out a hum. Still stubborn. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, letting it out with an obscene pop from between her swollen lips. Her eyes fluttered as she gazed up at him, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his fingertip that he promptly wiped over her perfectly made up cheek. "Tell me what you want, angel. Use your words. Thought you were running your mouth tonight about how you can’t stand me, and now y’can’t even pull your mouth off my fingers t’tell me what you want?" His voice low and teasing. The hand palming his cock squeezed gently as he waited for her request, knowing damn well what she craved.

“I..” She didn’t want to admit it. Harry won this game most of the time, but he had her in the sweet spot. Incredibly horny and desperate for approval. This was always the hardest part of it. Getting past her pride. Somehow, she always gave in. “I want to suck you off. Please.”

A wicked grin spread across his face at her words, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. It was one of his favorite parts, watching her unravel like she hadn’t been scoffing at him earlier. Like he didn’t know she’d end up on her knees saying ‘please, Daddy’ while begging for his cock. They both knew how this went. It was just a question as to who would break first every time they saw each other. How long it would take for him to catch her.

He unzipped his pants slowly, revealing his cock. Y/N hated how much she loved it, how thick it was, how obvious it was that their back and forth and the thrill of the chase had the tip ruddy and wet. He was leaking and she had been the one to do it. There wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment on his face as he took it into his hand, stepping closer to her kneeling form. "Come here then. Show me how badly you want it." He gripped his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched her with a hungry gaze. "Pout those pretty lips like you did before. I want t’see that again."

She did as he asked, letting her bottom lip poke out as she looked up at him in slight confusion- before he brought the tip over to her mouth. “Keep that pout.” He instructed when she went to open it, gripping her hair in his fingers as he dragged the tip over her bottom lip. Tracing over each one, he let out a soft hum as he painted her lips with his own arousal, watching his precum slick over her lower lip. Repeating the process again, he watched her lips glisten in the shitty light of the stall. Somehow, he hadn’t seen anything better in his life- Her pouted lips, glossy with the evidence of how much she worked him up.

“There we go. Made me so hard, looking the way you do. Y’look so pretty on your knees for me, but I think you needed that touch up.” Rubbing the top back and forth over the seam of her lips, he let out a groan as she pursed them. “Think you like it too. Filthy little thing. Pretending y’havent been gagging for it.. Runnin’ from me like we both don’t know you’re gonna get caught and you’re gonna get on your knees or bend over f’me after you talk all that shit to your friends about what an asshole I am… Leading me to places you shouldn’t be just to get a taste.”

She clenched her thighs together unconsciously, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between them- the one he always put there. When he finally pulled away, she couldn't help but lick her lips, tasting the trace him. Her eyes lulled as the salty-sweet flavor hit her tongue, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her. Her gaze darted up to meet his, embarrassment and arousal warring in her expression- smugness on his own.

She hated how much she loved it.

“Yeah, I know.” He cooed. “Y’love to taste me. Daddy’s good little whore.” Her expression turned to confusion as he slipped himself back in his trousers, zipping them back up. She was ready and on the floor, hands on her knees- and he was putting it away?

Harry caught the look, a patronizing smile on his face as he reached down to cup her chin. “What? Did you think you could run ‘round, acting like a brat this whole time n’I was just going to give you what you want?” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. Giving her chin a squeeze he motioned for her to get back up on her shaky feet.

“Not getting an inch of my cock in here. You’re goin’ to go back out there with all your little friends, act like you weren’t jus’ on your knees on this filthy bathroom floor for me.. Complain about me watching you like it doesn’t make that cunt soak whatever panties you’ve got on. S’alright, baby. I know the drill.” Squeezing her cheeks, he watched her face morph into irritation despite his grip. Just how he wanted her. “All you’re getting is the taste of me on that smart mouth. When you’re done, meet me in the hallway. If I get a lick of attitude from you, you aren’t getting anything else.”

[sometimesanalice]

Oh I adore getting your reblogs! It's always so fun getting to read someone's thoughts about things! But I'm also so happy that you enjoyed this one!

more for you!

Many thoughts...

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

I can 100% see that-- that man never stood a chance! he likes to play the game, especially when the girl he's interested in is leading the way 🤭

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

Yeah, let's show it off 😌-- he's such a slut (affectionate)! but if you ask him he'd just say he's a feminist and doing it for the female gaze, lmao

 He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

A man on a mission-- my favorite little attention whore

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

Lmao that would be funny though 😅-- maybe next time, lmaooo. but also he knows what he's bringing to the able and backs himself all the way, he's not afraid of a little competition (not that there is any, haha)

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

Oh, we all know 😅-- the cockwalk alone deserved an oscar

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.” “Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?” “Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.” “You mean Bagman?” “Yeah, that sounds right.”

A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅-- the easiest way to win over bradley bradshaw is to dunk on jake at any given opportunity, lol

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.” You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

😌🤭😌🤭-- she's got him soooo wrapped around her finger, and good for her it's what she deserves!

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type. Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻‍♀️😅-- he's innocent your honor!

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?” His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it. “I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭-- that hat has definitely seen some action that's for sure, lmao. and who he is who deny anyone who wants to try it on for size 🤭

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

That's so cute 😍-- he doesn't often get to share this side of things so indepthly with anyone, he's definitely not missing his moment here!

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear. “Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue. He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

There always has to be a first time 😌-- the man likes to live on the edge! the adrenaline rush of it all! plus everyone else is busy, and it is called the ready room after all haha

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.” “Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat. “I’m trying to,” you whine.

Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤-- we all know that man doesn't half ass anything and we thank him for his service!

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

🤭🤭🤭-- she's definitely made a lasting impression on him!

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Ahhhh omg-- i love a good twist!! and this one is one of my favorites!! 🤭🤭🤭

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week. He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating. Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅-- i ended up writing about the night they met! if you ever want to read it it's called "wildest dreams"! it's another cheeky and fun one, but I loved getting to explore just what happened the night they met!

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you. “It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

Oh he is so in love🥰-- he's so down bad!

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

^^ the most perfect gif in existence, lmao. they're both go getters ahahahaha

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

Facts 🤷🏻‍♀️-- i wouldn't mind getting a return on my taxes this way, just saying... lol

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

Wear that SPF!!-- my fav hc is that he's always getting sunburnt because he just doesn't have the patience to put it on.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰-- i'm so happy you liked it!! thank you for reading!!

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Keep reading

[grvait]

more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

[defmaybe]

Pegging & Penetration: Part II

NMIXX’s Oh Haewon & Lily Jin Park Morrow x Male Reader

5.3k words

Sequel to Pegging & Penetration

The chime of the mini-mart welcomes you, giving the familiar sense of comfort you’ve been feeling every time you visit here. Its air-conditioned temperature gives you an escape from the hellish heat of the outside world. The blue light is pleasing to the eye. The smell of slowly cooking sausages wafts into your nostrils. God, it’s so good. You get goosebumps, but you’d choose this over the sun any other day. You walk past the assortment of drinks towards the frozen foods zone. Your mom told you they contain a lot of sodium, but you’re too lazy to walk another hundred meters for freshly cooked fried rice.

It’s supposed to be another normal day in college, a beaten path you’ve walked through many times—wake up, class, revision, some gaming, then bedtime, rinse and repeat. Maybe slotting in writing cheesy fanfics if you have time. It’s a routine you’ve come to appreciate as time goes by, no matter how redundant that might be.

Until something decides to break that cycle.

“Seems like you’ve left her quite a mark, bitch.” 

A venomous yet familiar voice comes from your left, making you turn to the speaker.

It’s Oh Haewon and Lily Morrow, the former holding a phone directly in front of your eyes. They’re dressed in their after-class clothes—Haewon in a white t-shirt and black wide-legged pants, and Lily in a leather jacket with shorts that are far too short, shorts that reveal a little too much of her milky thighs. On the screen of the phone, there’s a video playing—a man pleasuring himself, his cock glistening with lube as he slides his hand up and down. And much to your horror, it’s you, it’s you that’s in the video, moaning like some cheap whore.

The breakup was supposed to be for the best interests. You couldn’t give Jinsol the time she deserved. She didn’t need to be stuck with a workaholic like you. Hell, she didn’t even flinch when you broke up with her. But it seems that she has other plans—plans that involve Oh Haewon and Lily Morrow leaking your video like they did with numerous men.

Well, if you decide not to follow their instructions.

You try to sound strong, but the stutter betrays you. “What do you want?”

“Follow us to the dorm, and don’t even fucking think of escaping us.”

—

Black.

It’s all black.

Lily puts you in blindfolds before you walk into their room. The strip of cloth restricts your vision well. You can’t see a thing, aside from the weird patterns floating around that you see quite often when you close your eyes. She grips onto your little waist, tight enough to make it hurt, before half-guiding, half-pushing you into their place.

They’ve surely been keeping their room clean, not a single strand of hair you can feel on your feet, but the over-tidiness is making your skin crawl in a way you can’t quite explain, as if the walls are ready to crush you any minute. The air smells like lilac, spring lilac, though, somehow, you feel like there’s something sinister behind that lovely scent. 

But no fight, no flight, otherwise it’s the end of you.

After a few trembling steps, she pushes you to land stomach-first on something you can make up that is a bed. It’s soft, a contradiction to their thorny personalities. It’s a few seconds you feel the much-needed comfort hugging your pliant body. Your hands grip onto the bed sheets, feeling the feathery sensation on your arms, half-smiling.

“Strip,” Lily’s voice cuts through your short-lived solace.

You reluctantly sit up on the bed, as if to delay the inevitable. Your hands fumble against your clothes as you’re struggling to get rid of your clothes. Rummaging sounds can be heard, but you’re not so sure where it comes from. It’s probably them finding their torture devices. Fuck, this is going to hurt.

As your shirt and shorts come off, you’re left alone with the sounds of them digging through their assortments. You figure you should enjoy this fleeting moment before the pain. Your hands run along their bed sheets, trying to gather some comfort into your body, trying to prepare yourself for the suffering in their hands.

Suddenly, you feel hands on your lithe wrists, before they are being tied together by a soft rope into a bundle. It’s like you’re going to run away. They don’t have to do this!

Stuttering, you ask, “Is this–Is this really needed?”

“Safety first,” a voice replies, Lily’s, pulling the last of the rope, tightly tying you up on the bed. She then pushes you down onto the bed, moving on to your legs, robbing the last of any freedom you have from your body.

You hear a sound of rummaging not so far from you. It’s probably Haewon finding her torture device. Your body trembles in the fear of pain. Fuck, this is going to hurt.

You can only think to yourself how your life leads you to this point, from a pretty decent student to a meatbag for two women. God, what a trajectory.

—

“Let’s open his eyes,” Haewon says, her voice devoid of any emotion for you to read.

You can feel Lily’s soft hands undoing the knot behind your head, and within seconds, you can see again.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to readjust to the shining light. Towering over you is Haewon, staring daggers down into your eyes, beautiful teardrops hanging from her chest, brown nipples sitting on them. Below is her large plastic cock sitting on her strap. You gawk at it in shock, trying to make sense of the situation. Wait, you thought they were going to torture you and make you cry in agony. What the fuck is this?

“What the fuck is this?”

Haewon only answers with a wicked smile, one that sends shivers down your spine before running her cock along your pouty lips, swaying her hips, making you shudder in response by the sheer size of it.

“We’re fucking your holes, bitch boy,” Lily says from your behind, spreading your cheeks with her hands and placing the tip of her silicone length at your asshole. The coldness of the lube smearing your ass is making you shriek.

“Ha–ah!”

“Yeah, moan like that, whore,” Lily says, gripping onto the globes of your ass, before landing a spank on them. That fucking hurts, but there’s somehow a glint of pleasure in it? You make no deflections to their words, still, fearing the power they’re holding. If the clip goes out, it’s over for you. At the same time, Haewon’s cock is running along your lips, threatening to intrude, limiting you to soft moans and whimpers.

Lily presses her cock onto the rim of your asshole with one hand, applying the pressure on your skin. The barrage on your cheeks persists with the other hand, slaps after slaps. Your body turns rigid with each hit, pain and unwanted pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Take it, you pretty slut!” Lily sneers. There’s a small of her chuckle leaking out along with the last words. She’s enjoying this.

Haewon spreads the taste of her plastic cock along your pouty lips, drawing a soft, whorish whine out of your mouth. You feel so pliant, like a mere plaything for them, like a fucktoy, like a bitch. “Suck my cock,” she commands, lightly pushing her phallus into your mouth with her nifty hand. Your teeth are still gritting, but with a slight thrust into your mouth by Haewon, you can do nothing but welcome her length.

You don’t see any point in sucking a strap, really, but if Haewon orders, you’re going to comply. You slowly part more of your lips, making way for her pretend dick to enter your mouth. Haewon’s cock finds its place inside you, inch by inch, starting from the tip. The plastic taste of it is almost making you gag—so synthetic, so foreign, but you won’t spit it out, you can’t.

Helpless, you give in to giving it a suck, hard enough that the sound comes out from where your lips and her cock meet. Your eyes bore into hers as you do so. Her eyes darken with desire. Haewon pushes further into your mouth, an inch more inside you, then an inch more, then an inch more. Her cock invades your mouth roughly, as you make gagging sounds as her cock reaches the back of your throat.

At the back, Lily begins to push her length into your clenching asshole, stretching you wide with her cock. You moan into Haewon’s phallus as she begins her wrecking of your unused, tight cavern with the silicone shaft. Your entire body turns rigid as Lily’s cock split you open.

“Holy shit, so–fucking–tight. This ass is virgin, isn’t it?” Lily asks, mockery seeping into her voice. “Honored to be your first, pretty boy!”

You’re not denying the fact. This is your first time getting pegged, and enjoyable is not the word you’d use to describe this.

With the help of lube, Lily splits your snug hole open. You feel so full of her cock. And after a few inches, the tip of it presses against your prostate, sending a harsh jolt through your tied-up body and eliciting a whine out of shock onto Haewon’s length.

“Mmm, taking a virgin boycunt, what a fucking day!” Lily shouts, punctuating her words with another smack. You yelp in pain at the contact.

Lily then drags her cock out slightly, giving you the short-lived room for breathing, before slamming her hips back into your ass once more. The tip of her length jabs your prostate, and you can do nothing but moan.

“How the fuck you can call your self a man if you’ve never been fucked in the ass like this, huh? Fucking–virgin–anal–slut!” Lily barks, her nails digging into your cheeks and spreading your asshole open.

At the front, Haewon grabs onto your hair harshly, drawing a whimper of agony out of your lips onto her suffocating length. Though, the stolen sense of control strangely spurs you on, making you lightly push your mouth onto her cock more and more. Your spit lathers the veins and ridges of her artificial length. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take in more and more of her cock. It reaches the back of your throat. This is fucking overwhelming for you.

Haewon’s head falls backwards as her shaft is at the hilt, letting out a long grunt, fully burying herself into your gaped mouth. You’re struggling for air, making retching sounds through your constricted throat.

“Oh–my–fucking–god,” Haewon groans. You watch her throwing her head back through your fluttering lashes as her eyes roll upwards. Her grip on your hair tightens, so strong it’s threatening to pull it away from your aching scalp. She gyrates her hips against your mouth, further suffocating you with her toned body. Your nose is pressed against her pubic bone. You can only make unintelligible sounds through the small spaces between your lips and her cock, hands and ankles struggle against the confines of their ropes. Your entire body shakes as it’s being used. The urge to just spit her out and run away from the scene is at its boiling point, but with you being tied up into their bitch like this, you just can’t.

“You’re making a goddamn perfect cocksleeve for me,” Haewon sneers, capping the sentence with a low grunt. Your air is her musky scent as your face is pressed into her cunt, and you’re not going to lie, combined with her half-compliment, it’s a little hypnotizing.

She then takes you off of her spit-lathered cock, and you desperately gasp for air. Your body is trembling with shock, and the fact that Lily Morrow is pounding you from behind. A copious amount of saliva drips down your chin onto the floor, wetting the spot in front of Haewon.

You try to gather air into your empty lungs—inhale and exhale to gain some semblance of control back. Your vision is so blurry with the tears. “You’re–You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Haewon shoots a wink down to you, hands on her hips, smirking as she holds her shaft in front of your mouth. “Just be a petite, obedient slut and take daddies’ cocks, pretty please?” she asks, and there’s a certain jeer in her voice. You grit your teeth, frustrated that your humanity is being walked over like this. How dare they do this to you! Still, you have a reputation to uphold. You can’t risk the clip going out, so you open your little mouth, welcoming Haewon’s cock with reluctance.

“There we go. What an acquiescent mouthpiece!” Haewon says, gaping your mouth to open wider with her fingers, jerking your head around like a worthless piece of flesh, as if to look out for where she can ruin your face more. “Goddamn, I fucking love that word.”

Haewon then grabs the base of her cock, readying her destruction of your mouth, and thrust her hips into the back of your throat. Your scream goes unheard, as Haewon’s hips buck into your mouth, making your face meet her pelvis, completely silencing you with her body.

“Just say stop if you can’t take it anymore,” Lily teases, but you can barely make any sound. You try to call for a timeout, but your mouth is too full of Haewon’s cock for you to say any word. Your eyes flutter as the tip hits the back of your throat.

You hear Lily laugh maniacally from the back, before scoffing at your struggle, “Can’t hear you, babe,” and there’s nothing but mockery in her voice, as your air is filled with the alluring scent of Haewon’s cunt.

“Come on, say something!” Haewon jeers, pressing you hard onto her pelvis. The act just puts your ability to speak to no use. You can only make choking sounds on her cock, as your eyes flutter helplessly.

“Guess he wants our dicks so bad, doesn’t he?” Haewon playfully asks, yanking your hair in a circular motion, grinding your mouth on her punishing length.

“He’s practically begging for it, Haewon,” Lily muses, spreading your cheeks apart roughly with her hands, before letting them go to jiggle freely around her cock. “God, what a cute, bubbly ass!”

Haewon laughs along, sinking your face into her strap harshly, grinding her hips to coax more spit out of you. Saliva is running down your chin like a waterfall onto the floor. Your limbs shake in the complete loss of agency over your body. Tears run down from your eyes from the hard length silencing your mouth. Lily hammering your ass from behind doesn’t help, making Haewon’s dildo hitting the back of your throat every time she tries to hit your prostate.

However, something starts to boil up within your body, something you’ve been trying so hard to suppress during your time with these two women. Maybe you’re not hating this after all, being treated like some cheap slut. You’re starting to love this.

Their pace quickens, using your tied-up body like a plaything. Your holes are completely rutted by their works. Lily’s cock finds your prostate at every other jab, sending electric sensations coursing through your pliant body. Haewon’s cock is making you gag uncontrollably. Your eyes are fluttering. Globs of spit fall onto the floor right at the edge of their bed. She grips onto your hair tightly, pushing you deep onto her huge cock over and over again, robbing the last of your movements away from you.

“Such a good little cock whore for daddy,” Haewon half-compliments, her movements rough on your mouth. Your eyes roll back with the harsh ravaging on your slutty throat. You make unintelligible sounds into her phallus—struggling, suffocated. Though, that initial reluctance is gone, replaced by the unyielding submission to their brutalities on your tight little holes. Maybe you’re not so resentful of their cocks after all.

A soft smile escapes your abused lips as Haewon thrusts into you with wild abandon. You’re starting to enjoy this rough fucking into your oblivion. Haewon looks down to see your lips curl up slightly, and she smirks at it, clearly revelling in the way her fucktoy begins to accept her shaft with glee.

“You’re starting to enjoy this? I like that,” Haewon sneers, her cock still doing a thorough exploration of your mouth with an unmatched roughness. “Can’t have my hole crying like a bitch. It’s pathetic.”

Lily’s hands are raking on your back, leaving (perhaps) visible red marks of her ownership on the smooth expanse of your backside. She bends down on your tied-up body, hands locking your body in place by the sides, and that’s when you know that her upper body is bare. Her soft tits press against your back as her hips jerk into your tight ass with wild abandon. “Aww, you’re loving this, don’t you, boy-toy? Being used like this, huh?”

Lily finds your stiff cock at the space between your lithe body and the bed. She knows that you’re hard. She knows that you’re loving this. Her thumb swipes the head of your cock to find the precum on your slit—a signal of your rejoice. Your frame shudders at her touch, moaning into Haewon’s cock.

“Leaking already?” Lily taunts, swiping her wet thumb on your stretched right cheek, smearing it with a thin layer of your essence. You feel the coldness on your skin. “What a nasty little cockslut.”

Haewon laughs menacingly as Lily paints your face with your own nectar. She’s still determined in shattering you into pieces, pumping into your mouth vigorously, one hand raking on the smoothness of your back, probably leaving red marks by the time this ends, the other hand yanking your head back and forth to keep a consistent tempo on her length.

“Look at you, both holes being fucked like this and still enjoying it. Might just brand you the college whore if you keep this up,” Lily says.

A small smile escapes your abused lips. The thought excites you. Being a college whore isn’t a bad idea, being used by numerous women like this. Your holes get to be fucked roughly. Your body gets to be used and abused. Damn, you really are loving this.

Suddenly, Haewon takes a handful of your hair, pulling it tight and away from your scalp, a string of spit connecting your lips to her length. You’re struggling to breathe from the sheer intensity of her face-fucking. Your eyes flutter wildly like a slot machine. 

“Say it,” she orders, her voice laced with venom.

Lily is pounding you from behind with abandon, ravaging your ass without any relent, making your cock swing helplessly. You just can’t think straight anymore, brain so mushy with these women’s cocks. All that’s in your filthy mind are how these two women are stretching your holes so fucking well, and how you’re utterly under their spells and relentless domination. 

Using the last of your inhibitions, you take a deep breath, before giving Haewon a cock-drunk smile as you exhale, giggling softly. Spit falls from your chin onto the floor.

“I’m–I’m a little cockslut,” you huff.

A sharp smack lands on your cheek. The pain stings on your face, but your cock is twitching hard, and the smile persists. You’re revelling in this. You’re revelling in the way Lily violates your rear. You’re revelling in the way Haewon reduces you into some cheap whore.

“Incorrect, bitch. Say it properly, who do you belong to?” Haewon shoots you another command. You really are under their domination.

“Answer carefully, boy-toy, or we might just leave you ruined right–fucking–here,” Lily snarls, reaching forward to grab your throat. She’s pressing all the right spots, leaving enough room for you to breathe, yet tight enough for your cock to twitch violently as a result of her grip.

Choked, you swallow hard, before shouting, “I’m daddy’s little cockslut. I’m daddy’s little cockslut!”

"Open your mouth," Haewon commands and she knows you'll do just that. You loosen your jaw and she bears down upon you, her lips pursed and then she shifts them side to side. They part and it falls. Her saliva trails from her glossy lips and drips into your mouth. It settles onto your tongue, invading you with its foreign taste, which if you actually had any semblance of control would make you recoil.

She seals it in there with a kiss. It's characteristically rough—with Lily rutting your ass and all—and it gives you no choice to do anything other than what you deep down desire regardless. You savor her taste, before swallowing it hard into your sore throat.

"Good fucking boy," Haewon growls against your lips.

“Just–Just for you, daddy,” you shoot back a reply.

Haewon lets out a small, wicked giggle, before breaking off from the torrid kiss. A string of your saliva connects your lips as she pulls herself back—an obscene display for both of you.

Haewon pushes down on the back of your head onto her cock firmly, as the sound of sloshing rings in your ears. All you can see is Haewon’s pelvis ramming into your debased mouth, so full of your spit. More tears fall from your fluttering eyes. Lily remains reckless with her thrusts, rearranging your abused guts without any sense of precision. Her grip on your throat remains firm. Your body is being violated, but the urge to just run away is not there anymore. It’s replaced by the complete submission you have for them. It’s replaced by the need to satisfy these women. It’s replaced by the urge to be the cock whore they want you to be.

“Holy fuck,” Haewon drawls, keeping her rhythm on your head rough and consistent. “You’re the best hole I’ve ever fucked.”

It’s a little impressive, you think, to be the best bitch she has ever fucked. You’re making a good set of holes, and you’re starting to accept that moniker. You make unintelligible sounds into her cock as you’re senselessly fucked in the mouth–some gagging, some from your vocal cords. Haewon is grinning darkly, relishing in the way you’re struggling, and partly enjoying against her length.

“You look exquisite, pretty boy, like a fucking Renaissance tragedy, you know that?” Haewon asks, looking down into your eyes. And even with how dehumanizing the question is, maybe it’s the eye contact, maybe it’s the half-tugging, half-shuffling she makes with your hair, you can feel the sincerity in her voice.

Muffled, you answer, “Thanks, daddy”

Haewon shoots you back a smile at the corner of her lips, still confident with her thrusts into an abused hole that is your mouth. Her hands grip onto your hair tightly, forcing your lips around her cock.

You can feel confidence rising within your muscles. The momentum starts to come back to you now. You figure you should move along with Haewon’s hand gripping your hair, and much to your surprise, Haewon’s grip loosens, slowly letting go of your head. You start to move on your own onto her cock with ease.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that!” Haewon cheers, her hands retreat to resting on her hips as your lips work on her cock. 

You suck her plastic length eagerly, trying to win your daddy’s acceptance. You give her shaft a hard suck, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your mouth up and down her cock. Hell, you even choke on it from time to time, and Haewon smiles, clearly enjoying how you’re embracing the role of a slut.

“Goodness fucking gracious, wish I had known you’re a natural cocksucker like this!” Haewon encourages. You’ve never known that you have this in you either. “Those lips are so goddamn perfect for a dick sucking.”

“That’s our college man-slut!” Lily chimes in. Her attack on your fragile prostate feels less like a punishment as you become their willing fuckdoll. Her nails dig into your ass firmly, spreading your cheeks apart for her cock’s easier access. It’s attacking your prostate without any sense of accuracy, frustratingly delaying the climax you’ve been yearning for.

It starts to build up in you, the need to release. You have to cum. You just can’t be used and abused by these women forever, even if you love it, even if being their tight little fuckhole is making you so damn happy. You need to cum.

Suddenly, you drag yourself off of Haewon’s glistening length, making Haewon staring daggers at you.

“What the fuck?” she snarls, taking your chin in a harsh grip.

Lily seems to be lost in fucking your tight little ass. Her soft moans can be heard from the back.

Haewon barks, “A few compliments and you start disobeying us, huh?”

“I–I need to cum, please,” you beg, voice all hoarse from your abused throat. Haewon’s eyes narrow into a slit, as if to process the bold request. “Please, daddy.”

“Isn’t my cock enough, huh? Is this boypussy not satisfied?” Lily chimes in, smacking your asscheeks, still putting up the barrage on your ass, though inaccurately. It’s fucking frustrating.

Stuttered, exhausted, you reply, “It’s–It’s not hitting the right spot–cough–daddy.”

Haewon examines you for a while, trying to gauge something out of your debauched, messy face as Lily hammers you from behind. Your body shakes along with the creaking bed, shrieking whenever the tip of her shaft hits that sensitive bundle of nerves, or whenever her hand lands on your ass.

“You’ve been a splendid fucktoy for us,” and she pauses, letting the air thicken with anticipation. Your prostate is still being violated over and over again at an annoying tempo—hard enough to arouse, yet too slow to make your cock spurts semen out. “What do you say, Lily?”

Lily chuckles, halting her movement inside your ass, hilting her cock against your prostate. You groan as pleasure washes over you. “Well, you’ve been a nice little cumdump. I’ll allow it.”

Haewon smirks, lining up her phallus against your mouth again. “Aim for his prostate, Lily.”

“Alright,” Lily replies, dragging her cock back slightly, before pistoning herself into your mushy, soft prostate. A slutty whine escapes your lips.

“Guess you hit it,” Haewon says, forcing your jaw open again with her fingers, free hand gripping your hair tightly. She pushes her shaft back into your mouth, and it fits perfectly. Your mouth really is made to take her cock. “Such a perfect cocksleeve for daddy.”

The violation on your pliant body resumes. You’re face-fucked by Oh Haewon’s cock. She’s making you gag on her length uncontrollably. Her hands grip onto the back of your head oh-so-tightly. You choke and sputter. Spit drips down your chin like a goddamn waterfall. Tears run down your cheeks as your mouth is forced open by Haewon’s big, fat, veiny cock. You’re making retching sounds against her length. From behind, Lily Morrow is ravaging your ass with renewed vigor, aiming for your prostate so goddamn accurately it hurts, yet it’s so pleasant. Her nails dig into your waist, and it’s probably going to leave red crescent marks by the time this ends.

Wet, obscene squelching sounds echo through Haewon and Lily’s bedroom. It’s ugly. It’s debased. The room reeks of sweat and sex. You’re so lost in these women’s cocks—sucking Haewon’s fake dick, taking Lily’s hardness up your virgin ass—and you cannot be happier than you are right now.

If you were told this morning that you’re going to love having your cheeks, on both ends, being spread by two women, you wouldn’t believe it. But here you are, having your holes used and abused like this, and you cannot be happier than you are right fucking now.

The feeling builds up inside your stomach. It washes over your loins as Lily’s cock jabs your prostate with an unmatched accuracy. Your body can’t take it anymore. You’re going to cum!

Haewon and Lily’s strokes remain unyielding, attacking the sensitive spots inside you with accuracy. Your vision becomes blurry as you get closer and closer to paradise. This is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re going to cum with two cocks inside your body.

Haewon and Lily spew out a series of insults you can’t quite catch anymore—a mixture of words. Each word sends you into a higher plane of arousal.

“Dumb slut.”

“Cock whore.”

“Set of holes.”

“Freaky bitch.”

“Fucking boy-toy.”

“Obedient little fuckdoll.”

“What a tight boypussy you have.”

“Such a perfect cocksleeve for us.”

And you break.

Your entire body writhes in pleasure as you experience the best orgasm you’ve ever had—Lily’s cock fucking your prostate away, Haewon’s dick abusing your mouth. Loud, obscene moans leave your mouth. You shoot a seemingly endless amount of cum out of your cock onto their bed. Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Your hands and legs struggle against the confines of their ropes as you cum uncontrollably. You whine and whimper into Haewon’s cock, almost silenced.

“Yes, yes, yes, fucking cum! Whore,” Lily snarls wickedly, fucking your ass through the orgasm into oblivion. Her length rams into your soft, mushy prostate, wrecking, shattering. Her nails dig into your slutty waist. It hurts, and it fucking spurs you on.

“Nasty little slut,” Haewon sneers, not letting up her pressure on your face. Your mouth chokes and sputters on her cock. Globs of spit fall onto the floor between you and Haewon. Your cock twitches in the confined space between you and the bed. Fuck, this really is heaven.

You tremble between their bodies, taking in the taste of their shafts. You come down from your orgasm. Successive spurts from your hardness grow softer and softer. Lily slows herself down, giving space for you to breathe, as Haewon drags her cock out of your mouth. A copious amount of saliva drips down your chin.

Lily gives your abused hole one last stroke before pulling out. You moan feebly as she does so. You can feel that your snug hole is now gaping, missing its filling.

You lie there, limp, exhausted, utterly used. Haewon and Lily smile as they watch the mess they’ve made out of your body. They’re sure happy with their fucktoy today.

“We need to get him on speed dial,” Lily says, giving your ass one last slap. Your body shudders a little.

“He has to be on an emergency call. He’s too good of a slut to be true,” Haewon muses, bending over your pliant body and undoing the ropes. “Don’t forget to untie his legs.”

“Oh yeah.”

The two women work on getting you out of their restraints, throwing a few jokes at you which you can only weakly laugh at. Finally, you’re out and about again, but you just lie there, drenched in your own cum, letting the events earlier reel in your head—Haewon’s cock invading your mouth, Lily’s shaft ravaging your ass, them calling you names that arouse you. It is heavenly.

“I’ll take a shower first,” Lily says, before walking into the bathroom, the strap still hanging from her hips.

Haewon takes a seat beside you on the bed, examining how you’re feeling. You give her a weak smile, letting her hand run through your hair gently.

“You did well, pretty boy,” Haewon says, smirking. She swings her legs lightly. It’s calm. It’s serene. It’s a reprieve you’ve been waiting for.

“Thanks, daddy.”

Haewon chuckles softly. “And as a reward, you can be sure that the clip won’t go out.”

“I was a pretty good slut for you guys, wasn’t I?” you joke.

Haewon laughs once more, patting your head gently. “I kind of want to do this again, if you don’t mind.”

You join along with her laugh. Yeah, you’d love to do this again. “Well, definitely, maybe.”

—

[reidsmanuscript]

Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough though because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”  

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”  

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”  

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.  

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

Alex kept her voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

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Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking. 

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly. 

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The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him. 

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were. 

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else. 

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile. 

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously. 

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass. 

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.” 

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

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You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　

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[isaisliterallyhim]

hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3

YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!

"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"

ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^

wc: 0.5k

cw: this might be dub-con idk tho

"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."

a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.

this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p

it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.

you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.

"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.

"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.

his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.

"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.

"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.

your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.

"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...

"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe

[samkerrworshipper]

movin’ out

keira walsh x reader

i wrote a fic that isn’t super depressing or smut? sorry? it’s short, it’s a little bit funky and definitely not my normal style but it’s all i could piece together atm! i don’t think it’s technically a blurb but close enough! enjoy xo

warnings: none?

It’s been too long.

It’s all you can say or think the moment you see Keira.

Between you playing in England, her in Barcelona and then you playing for Australia and her playing for England the time you two can find together is so limited. Face times, constant texts and midnight calls are good for a couple of days, sometimes weeks but after months it becomes nowhere near enough to sustain a relationship. It’s the pains and trials associated with two professional athletes being in a relationship with each other, the disconnection was hard and the added hundreds of miles between you only made it harder.

You hadn’t realised how long it had been though, and just how much of a toll that might have started to take on your partner. Between the both of you playing a mid week game and then training every day in the lead up to weekend games you both hardly had enough time to make dinner and make room for your basic needs, let alone care from each other afar.

As you look at Keira now though, you’re really having second thoughts about the lack of check ins that you’ve been having with her and the amount of interactions you’ve been having that haven’t solely revolved around football.

“Hey baby.”

Keira looks ill, and not in the sick way, just her general features. She just looks unwell, like she hasn’t been sleeping at all, like she’s on the brink of a emotional breakdown and just generally miserable. You’d offered to pick her up from the airport but she’d denied your offer and you can see why now, she looks like she’s in tatters and is about to collapse in front of you.

“Hey.”

Every syllable is deflated, like she’s struggling to piece together the energy to move her lips.

You’ve known for a while now that Keira hasn’t been happy in Barcelona. Lucy leaving had been.. it had been tough. On top of the rest of the midfield finally being in good fitness and there being a lot less familiarity for Kei it was understandable that your girlfriend would be struggling, you just hadn’t understood how much.

You push her suitcase to the side in favour of bringing her straight into your arms. The way her hands cling to your jumper makes your heart thump.

“Hey baby, I’ve got you.”

You immediately feel sick with the guilt over the fact that tomorrow you have to leave, that you have a sweet twenty four hours to try and fix whatever this problem is before you are obligated to get on a flight and fly 20 hours further away. Your stomach actually hurts at the thought, here you are with your long distance girlfriend holding onto you like you’re her lifeline and your going to be dragged away in less than 24 hours.

“Let’s go to the couch huh? Get you off your feet.”

It’s phrased as a question but really you have no intention of standing in the entryway of your house for a minute longer. You lead Keira into your living room slowly, pulling her onto your couch with you and letting the slightly shorter woman to ragdoll on top of you. You don’t mind the cllinginess, it’s a far cry from how she is with almost every other human and to know that for the most part you are the only person who gets to see this side of Keira is special.

“Arsenal put in an offer.”

It wasn’t exactly public knowledge, Leah had told you though a couple of weeks ago when it had happened, you’d been a little bit dissapointed that Keira hadn’t told you when it was happening.

“I know.”

A part of you didn’t want to hear that Keira didn’t want to come, that she’d denied the offer. It was the part of you that still felt insecure about your relationship slightly.

“They told me, management. They didn’t even think about it. Even after i’d told them I was interested in coming back, that I wanted to come back to England. A million dollars and they turned it down.”

You take a deep breath, whilst Keira had made it clear to you that she wasn’t happy in Barcelona that hadn’t directly translated in your mind to her wanting to come to England or Arsenal.

“You wnat to come, to arsenal?”

Keira looks up at you and you get a good look in her eyes for the first time since she walked through the door fifteen minutes ago.

“England first and foremost, but Arsenal with you and Leah would be ideal. Not that it seems like it’s going to happen until my contract is up.”

You smile at Keira big and wide, there hasn’t been a point in your career yet where you’ve been in the same city, she was at Manchester and you were in America, then you moved to Arsenal and there was a period of 3 months where you were finally in the same country. Then it was Barcelona and the drift had started again. The idea of having Keira in the same city as you, potentially in the same house makes you giddy. But that’s all it it, a thought, because it’s not real and you’re in the same predicament of her being in camp for the next two weeks and then flying back to Barcelona before you’re back in the country.

“That would be nice.”

You purposely murmur it as quietly as possible.

“Yeah, would be nice.”

The reality is that for both of you there is no point in dreaming about more, dreaming only leads to let downs, big soul crushing let downs.

“You’ve just gotta gold on, you’ve got Kika and Ellie and Aitana, you just need to hold onto the people you have and make the most of it. You’re winning silverware at least?”

When the sound of a sniffle falls against you, your heart only clenches more.

“I want to be here, I want to be with you, not trying to find any spare minute in my schedule so that we can see each other for a second. I’m sick of always feeling like we have to make up for lost time, I want to live with you. Get our own dog, our own home, have our things, our own lives together instead of living separately.”

You nod against your girlfriends fluff of curly orange hair, it’s not often that it’s as puffy as it is, it’s only another sign to add to the list of how Keira must be feeling.

“You know, I really like that idea.”

You focus on Kei’s hair, undoing it from the makeshift bun it’s in and tangling your hair in the roots, carding your fingers through the ends and working up to her scalp.

“Just you and me, all the time, no more constant face time, surprise visits, rewatching games, coordinating schedules. Just you and me. It’s a good dream.”

That’s the thing, it can’t be anything more than a dream for either of you, in theory it would be lovely, amazing even. But dreaming is what gives the biggest disappointments.

“Maybe more than a dream.”

You ndo to satisfy Kei, because the last thing she needs on top of her own struggles and doubt right now is yours on top of it. But in your mind it just doesn’t work out, how can you expect it to work out when realistically the both of you are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why you’ve both worked together so well, because there hasn’t been any mistranslations about the fact that you both are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why in your head it doesn’t make sense that Keira would leave, she’s playing at the best club in the world, she’s at the highest level she could possibly be. A part of you is slightly insecure that her priorities are shifting, and it feels good but it’s also scary. You aren’t anywhere near to shifting away from your priorities, it’s been decided since you’ve been 12 that football was going to be the one love of your life. There were never boyfriends or girlfriends or plans to have kids or go to university, it was always just football. Keira had been the one flaw in the plan, but it wasn’t a true flaw. Keira made things easier, or as easy as they could be. It was just so natural that it was just all cohesive. The distance was hard but it was what made it easier to focus on your career, there wasn’t any direct distractions in your life.

“Maybe.”

There’s a big part of you that worries that you might not be able to sustain a relationship that’s not long distance because you’ve never had to. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up next to a person and then get ready for football and prepare for a fame. Sure, over the summer you spend every waking moment with Keira, but normally there is a tournament or you’re so focused on relaxing in the little down time you have that having Keira around is just an afterthought. What you have, the love and affection from a far and occasionally for a couple of days is what’s been perfect for you, the thought of having it as a constant is terrifying.

“I invited Leah over later, I assumed you’d want to see her before camp and you’re surrounded by everyone else.”

Keira peeks up at you, her eyes wide and suddenly brimming with tears. The blue in her eyes is so much clearer when their wet, it’s like it reflects directly off of the features of her face.

“I’ll be with Leah for the next two weeks.”

The underlying tone is very clear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to a night with my favourite girl. How about thai and the love island episodes we haven’t watched on facetime together?”

You know you’ve said the right thing when Keira’s face immediately lights up, but after a few seconds it dims and all of the energy that seemed restored fades.

“I don’t want to disappoint Leah. every time I’m here it’s to see you, which I love but when she comes to Barcelona she always spends it with me.”

You lean down and plant a kiss to her forehead.

“Leah is not going to be offended that you choose to spend the little time you have with me, like I said, you have two weeks together. She will be perfectly happy with that, I’m happy to tell her that you’re overtired from the travel and I want to keep you all to myself.”

When she lifts her head up,you don’t hesitate to press what you intended to be a peck to her lips, but before you even know what’s happening Keira’s hoodie covered hands are reaching up behind your head, pulling you in.

It’s a good feeling, you like your relationship for this exact reason. You don’t know how the sparks would work, if they’d even be there if you had this all the time.

It’s supposed to be a dream to have this all the time, and yet the more you think about it, and the more the idea becomes slightly tangible the more you find yourself skeptical of the whole dream. It just doesn’t seem like something you should have.

“C’mere.”

You don’t miss the way you immediately relax as Keira completely collapses on top of you, her bones practically melting into your own. It feels so good, your body feels so much better with her around it, your head goes quiet and everything just fits into place. It’s the part of you that worries that if you have this all the time then that part, the magical part will somehow drift away and all the moments that keep you coming back will stall.

“I’ll order the thai, and I’ll text Leah. Tomorrow morning you’re going to call your agent and tell him that you want it made clear to Barca that you want to come back to England and the next offer available they should take it. Then you’ll help me pack for camp and we’ll have some really great goodbye sex and you’ll drive me to the airport and we’ll be all soppy and kiss and hug and cry. Then you’ll go on camp and tell Barca that you want a couple of days off when camp ends, and I’ll fly home as soon as my last match is over and we’ll spend whatever time we can get together. We’re going to make this work, we’re going to make something normal happen, okay?”

Whether it feels right or not, it sounds right, and as much as you aren’t sure about the future you know that right now Keira needs support. She’s not getting it at Barcelona clearly and you need to give it to her or as much as you can piece together. You need to problem solve this, you need to prove that even with all of your internal doubts that you can make whatever she needs or wnats work. She might not be your priority over football, or at least that’s what you think, but she’s pretty damn close and she’s the most stable thing you’ve had in your life for the past couple of years. You’ve put her through hell, and you need to fix the hell she’s currently living in like she would do for you.

“We’ll make it work?”

You look down at your perfect fucking girlfriend, on top of you, relaxed and smiling and it clicks, it all just clicks into place.

“Yeah baby, we’re gonna make it work.”

——————

anyways have a great day or night! love you all! maybe next time i post it’ll be a orgy 🤭