#[ she's been on land since like?? september?? ]

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ A Little Too Much

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: like maybe an allusion to sex???

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: paige bro lock in

PAIGE SINKS deeper into the couch, the familiarity of the apartment wrapping around her like a hug. It’s nice being back, the familiar scent of vanilla (Jo’s candles) filling the space. The TV is tuned to some random college football game—an SEC game that Paige really couldn’t care less about.

Aubrey’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, her arm resting on the back cushion. A bag of chips is balanced precariously on her knee as she scrolls through her phone, glancing up at the screen every now and then to half heartedly comment on a play.

“Nah, ain’t no way Tennessee gets this one,” Aubrey says, tossing a chip into her mouth. “Georgia, no debate.”

Paige snorts, squinting at the game for a moment. “Ion know, the Vols are up.”

“They won’t be,” Aubrey insists, waving the bag of chips for emphasis.

Paige hadn’t realized how much she missed all of this until now. She’s spent the last month in LA, focusing on her rehab at a state-of-the-art facility her team insisted on. The work has been grueling—hours of physical therapy every day, pushing her body to its limits, trying to rebuild what she’s lost.

But being away from her teammates has been harder.

It’s the first week of October now and she hadn’t seen any of them since early September, right before she flew out. Sure, there were texts and FaceTimes—especially with Jo, who’s practically made it her mission to keep Paige from feeling too disconnected. But it isn’t the same as this: sitting on the couch, arguing over nothing, being in one of her best friend’s presence.

“You said Jo was working out with Yanna and Caroline, right?” Paige asks, glancing over at Aubrey. She’d be lying if she said she isn’t anxiously waiting for Jo to get her ass home.

“Yeah, they been at it all day. Jo’s on this whole new grind—something about gettin’ faster footwork or whatever. I dunno, think she just wants to be really prepared for the season, cause—” Aubrey nods to Paige’s knee and Paige nods—Jo is certainly gonna have a huge role for the team this season.

After a moment, though, Aubrey sends her a look, asking, “Why, though? You impatient?”

Paige just rolls her eyes, saying, “It’s just been a minute.”

Aubrey hums, though she doesn’t sound entirely too convinced.

Paige doesn’t much care. She cares more about the fact that she has to sit through nearly the entirety of this football game before she hears the door click open, her head snapping up instinctively. She can hear Jo before she sees her—her sneakers squeaking against the floor, her laugh that’s as bright and familiar as sunlight as she mutters something to—presumably—Ayanna or Caroline, who must still be in the hallway. For a second, everything else washes away—the announcers on the TV, Aubrey scrolling lazily on her phone. Paige’s focus narrows completely, landing squarely on the figure stepping into the apartment.

When Jo finally comes into view, it’s like Paige can breathe again. Except, maybe not, because Jo looks exactly the same and yet somehow better then Paige remembers. Her ponytail is a little messy, strands clinging to her forehead, and her tank top is soaked through with sweat, outlining the lean strength of her frame. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes are sparkling with that post-workout adrenaline.

Paige feels her stomach plummet, a sudden, unwelcome realization inching into her mind. She thinks Jo looks beautiful like this.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” Jo’s voice breaks through Paige’s thoughts, light and high-pitched with excitement. Her smile is wide, open, and utterly disarming, like she’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. She drops her gym bag onto the floor without a second thought and breaks into a jog toward Paige, her arms already outstretched.

Paige stands automatically, her body moving before her brain catches up. And then Jo is there, colliding into her with so much force that Paige actually stumbles back half a step. Jo’s arms wrap around her shoulders, strong and unhesitating, and before Paige even knows what’s happening, she’s being pulling into the kind of hug that makes her feel like melting.

Jo smells like strawberry shampoo and a hint of sweat, a mix that should probably be unappealing but isn’t. Paige’s face ends up pressed against the side of Jo’s neck, and, for a moment, she lets herself completely sink into the embrace. Jo is warm and solid and so full of life, and Paige feels herself relax in a way she didn’t even realize she needed.

But there’s something else, too: a tangle of emotions she can’t—or maybe just doesn’t want—to name. Paige’s hands settle on Jo’s waist, and she pulls her closer, tighter, without even thinking. Her heartbeat picks up, thudding erratically in her chest. She tells herself it’s just the adrenaline of being nearly barreled into.

But then Jo’s laugh bubbles out, muffled against Paige’s shoulder, and Paige feels a little breathless.

“I missed you so much!” Jo squeals, her arms tightening around Paige like she’s never letting go.

Paige smiles, closing her eyes for just a second as her nose nudges Jo’s ponytail. “I missed you too,” she murmurs, and there’s a softness in her voice that surprises even her.

The warmth of Jo’s hug, the way her fingers curl slightly against Paige’s back, makes something twist low in Paige’s stomach. It’s almost too much, but at the same time, not enough. Paige doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to think about why this feels different than hugging Aubrey or Azzi earlier.

From behind them, Paige hears Aubrey mutter, “Yeah, maybe a little too much.”

Paige’s eyes snap open, heat rushing to her face. She freezes, her arms going stiff for just a second, but Jo doesn’t seem to notice. Paige’s heart pounds as she wills herself to stay calm, to keep her expression neutral as she pulls back, not too abruptly but enough to put some space between them.

Jo beams, her hands lingering on Paige’s shoulders as she grins up at her. Paige feels like she might die under the weight of it.

“Shit,” Jo says suddenly with realization, stepping back and gesturing to herself. “I’m disgusting right now. I should’ve warned you before jumping on you like that.”

“You’re fine,” Paige says quickly, and then, because she feels like she should say something normal, she adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen you sweaty before.”

Jo laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. “Still. Let me shower, and then we’re hanging out. No excuses. I missed you!”

Paige can’t help but smile back, even as her thoughts churn. Jo is grinning at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters, and Paige feels something warm and unsteady settle in her chest. She watches as Jo grabs her bag and heads toward the bathroom.

Once she’s out of view, Paige sits back down on the couch with a huff. She hates that her heart is still beating too fast.

Next to her, Aubrey hasn’t moved, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch as she watches Paige with a look that makes the blonde shift a little. The football game continues on, the last few minutes of the fourth quarter blaring, but Aubrey doesn’t seem the least bit interested in it anymore.

Paige finally breaks the silence, blurting out as she turns to Aubrey, “What did you mean by that?”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “By what?”

Paige frowns. “That comment you made. About me missin’ her too much.”

Aubrey doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans forward, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume on the TV. When she settles back into her seat, she gives Paige a look—a knowing look that immediately puts Paige on edge.

“She has a boyfriend, bro,” Aubrey says simply, as if that explains everything.

“I know that,” Paige snaps, the words leaving her mouth too quickly. She feels a flush creeping up her neck and shifts in her position, trying to look casual, unbothered. “Obviously I know that.”

Aubrey’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her voice sharper now. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive without meaning to be. “’Course I do. What’s your point?”

Aubrey tilts her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. “My point is,” she says slowly, “you look at her like she’s the sun or sum. And don’t act like you don’t, ’cause I just saw it.”

Paige scoffs, but it’s weak, almost half-hearted. “That’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” she says, though her tone wavers. “She’s, like, my best friend. I’m just—” She falters, trying to find the right words “I’m just happy to see her. It’s been a month, bro. I’d be like that with anyone.”

“Really?” Aubrey asks, raising her eyebrows. “Uh, you didn’t act like that when I picked you up from the airport. Or when Az came by earlier.”

“That’s different,” Paige says defensively. “You and Azzi—she’s—” She stumbles over the words, annoyed that she can’t articulate why it is different without making it sound worse.

Aubrey doesn’t look convinced. In fact, she looks entirely unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” she says, drawing the syllables out. “P, I warned you about this when you two first moved in together.”

Paige remembers. She remembers when they were moving her bed during the summer and Aubrey had told her seriously, “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson.”

At the time, Paige had laughed it off. The idea seemed absurd then. Sure, Jo was beautiful, but she was also a freshman and just getting her feet wet here, and Paige would never do that. She would never do that. She still would never do that. But then, Paige hadn’t ever thought of her in that way.

Now—

“I don’t like her like that,” Paige says, her voice firmer than she feels. “I don’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Aubrey says again, in the same tone as before. “Look, I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But, bro, if you do have feelings for her—and I’m not saying you do—don’t let ’em mess with your head. Or the team.”

Paige bristles at that. “I don’t have feelings for her,” she insists. “And even if I did—which I don’t—it wouldn’t affect the team. I’m not that stupid.”

Aubrey shrugs, unfazed. “I’m just saying. Jo’s solid with Asher. Like, really solid. You don’t wanna go down that road.”

Paige feels her chest tighten, and she doesn’t know if it’s because she hates how Aubrey is talking to her or because some small, traitorous part of her knows Aubrey might be right.

“I’m not goin’ down any road,” Paige says, forcing her voice to stay even. “You’re reading too much into this. I’m just happy to see my best friend again. That’s it.”

Aubrey doesn’t press further, but her silence is heavy, loaded with unspoken skepticism. Paige tries to focus on the last few minutes of the football game, but the TV screen practically blurs in her vision as her thoughts spiral.

She tells herself Aubrey’s wrong. That her excitement to see Jo is completely normal. That the way her heart has leapt when Jo walked in the door was nothing more than relief after a long time apart.

But deep down, she can’t shake the way her stomach had flipped when Jo smiled at her. Or the way her chest felt too tight when Jo hugged her, like her ribs were trying to contain something that didn’t want to be contained.

Paige doesn’t know what to call it. She doesn’t want to know.

JO’S EYES remain glued to the screen, but she doesn’t even notice what’s happening in the episode anymore. She missed this—missed the nights spent lying next to Paige, the “sleepovers” which are really just code for one of them being too lazy to walk back into their own rooms and crawl into their own beds.

Jo’s massaging Paige’s knee, the rhythm comforting and almost mechanical now. It’s just what they do; she’s done it a thousand times over since her surgery, though it’s been a month since she’s done it now. She knows how much it helps Paige, and it’s not like it’s anything weird—just a friend doing something nice for another friend, a friend that’s gone through this same thing before and knows what can help.

She’s not thinking about the way Paige’s leg feels under her palm, how soft the skin is, how warm. She’s not. She’s not thinking about how close they are, how the smooth skin of Paige’s thigh rests under her cheek, or how the way Paige moves so naturally beside her makes her chest feel tight in a way that doesn’t make sense.

Paige lets out a soft sigh, and Jo doesn’t quite know why it sends a little flutter through her. She shakes it off quickly, adjusting her position to be more comfortable, still massaging her knee.

They’re almost at the end of first season of The Vampire Diaries now, and Jo’s surprised that Paige has stuck with it. She thought, with all the complaining, that Paige would have tapped out after a few episodes, but here they are, still going strong. Jo knows her well enough that she can tell that Paige has actually started to get into it. Maybe not as much as Jo, but enough to make comments and roll her eyes at the sometimes ridiculous drama.

“You can’t actually be Team Damon, P,” Jo says, shaking her head against Paige’s thigh, letting her fingers glide over the tender muscle beneath Paige’s knee. “Like, come on, girl. Stefan is clearly the better choice.”

Paige shifts slightly, and Jo glances up to see the blonde smirking down at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed and Jo can understand why—it’s hot in here. Maybe they should turn the heat down. “Ion know, JoJo. Damon’s a lot more interesting.”

Jo huffs, “Yeah, well, interesting isn’t always the best option. You need someone who’s steady, who’s good for you.”

“Who’s ‘boring,’ you mean?” Paige’s voice is light, a teasing edge to it.

Jo shakes her head again, laughing a little. As she does so, her lips lightly graze the top of Paige’s thigh. She doesn’t think anything of it. But then she feels Paige’s leg tense up. Jo stills her hand on her knee, thinking she might’ve done something wrong. But then, maybe a second later, Paige is relaxed again, and she doesn’t say anything, so Jo cautiously resumes the massage.

“Yeah, boring’s fine. It’s good. It’s better than all the shit Damon brings,” Jo says.

She can feel the subtle shift in Paige’s posture—she’s looking at Jo, eyes soft, gaze steady—and Jo quickly glances back at the TV, avoiding it. She doesn’t know why. Because it’s because if she lets herself look at Paige for too long, she’ll start thinking about things she’s not supposed to.

“Whatever,” Paige says after a pause. “I still think Damon’s cooler.”

Jo just snorts as she finishes working on the blonde’s knee, feeling the tension slowly melt away as her fingers work the muscles. A final press of her thumb into the joint elicits a soft sigh from Paige, and Jo grins slightly, the satisfaction of helping her best friend making it worth it.

Her fingers ache slightly from the pressure, but it’s nothing really. She looks at Paige briefly before flopping down beside her, her legs splaying out on the bed as she turns onto her stomach. The weight of the day and the long workout is starting to press in on her, and the soft, quiet room feels soothing. “My turn,” she says with a little grin, throwing a look over at Paige as she gestures to her back. It’s a deal they became accustomed to before Paige went off to LA—Jo massages Paige’s knee, and Paige takes care of the horrendous knots in Jo’s back. Simple.

Paige stares at her for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, before moving over to straddle Jo’s hips and starting to knead into her back. Jo tries to relax, exhaling deeply as Paige’s hands work their way over her tense muscles. It’s familiar and comfortable, and God, is Jo glad Paige is back in Storrs.

Paige’s fingers press into a particularly stubborn knot, right between Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo winces, just a little. It’s the one knot that never seems to go away, no matter how much she tries to stretch or work it out. It’s been there for years, a stubborn thing.

“Still there?” Paige’s voice is soft, but Jo can hear the hint of concern.

The younger girl nods into the pillows. “Mmm, yeah, it never goes away.”

Paige hums in acknowledgement, and Jo hears her shift slightly. For a moment, she wonders if Paige is just going to stay where she is and work the knot from the outside, but then, to her surprise, she feels Paige’s hands move to the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding under the fabric carefully.

“Lemme get in there,” Paige murmurs lowly.

The words and the cool air against her skin sends a shiver down Jo’s spine, but she doesn’t pull away. Paige’s touch is so familiar, so comforting, that even the shift in how they’ve positioned doesn’t feel strange—at least, it shouldn’t. She can feel Paige’s fingers move under the fabric, creeping up her spine near her shoulder blade, right where she can press deeper into the knot. The pressure is sudden but not unwelcome. It’s exactly what Jo needs.

“Mmm, that’s better,” Paige says softly, her voice closer now, almost against Jo’s back, as she works the knot precisely. Her fingertips press firmly into the spot, working the muscle, easing the tendon.

The warmth from Paige’s fingers against her skin sends a wave of heat through Jo’s body, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The knot is finally loosening, and for a brief moment, she’s too focused on the sensation to even process anything else. Paige’s hands move with ease, like she’s done this a thousand times. And she has. Or, well, at least a few.

“You good?” Paige asks, voice soft but steady, like she’s concerned, and Jo feels a strange pull in her chest.

Jo hums in response, though it comes out softer than she intended. “Yeah, that feels perfect.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, and all Jo can focus on is the steady rhythm of Paige’s hands as they move over her back, the weight of her stomach settling into Jo’s muscles. The room is even warmer now—they really should turn down the heat. Even if it’s Connecticut, it’s only October. That, or maybe it’s just the proximity, the closeness of Paige’s body to here. Jo doesn’t know what it is, but her heart’s not beating the way it usually does.

Paige’s hands slide back up, pressing into the tender spots along Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo bites her lip, trying to ignore how good it feels.

And then, without thinking, Jo shifts slightly, a small motion that presses her chest just a little closer to the bed. With the movement, her body aligns a bit more with Paige’s, and suddenly the space between them feels too small, too close. She can feel Paige’s breath against her back, steady and warm, and Jo’s pulse quickens despite herself.

“God,” Jo mutters. “You’re good at this.”

Paige’s fingers stop their movements for a moment, as if processing the words. “It’s nothing,” she says, but there’s something different in her voice. Maybe it’s just how close they are, or maybe it’s the weight of the silence hanging between them, but Jo’s pretty sure she hears a shift in the way Paige speaks. A slight tension in her voice that Jo can’t explain.

Eventually, Paige finishes working the knot, her hands pulling away slowly. Jo almost feels a pang of disappointment, but she can’t place why. She’s just relaxing, just letting herself unwind. It’s nothing.

Paige lies back down next to her, the space between them still feeling a little smaller than it should be. Jo turns her head to meet Paige’s gaze, their faces just inches apart.

“Better?” Paige asks, her voice soft and almost too quiet. Her fingers trail lightly down Jo’s spine, slipping out from under her shirt with a gentle touch that sends a small shiver through Jo.

Jo smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

Paige nods, her lips lifting at the corners a little before Jo turns her gaze back to the TV. She tucks her hands under her cheek as she lays on her side, eyes lazily watching the screen. Damon and Elena are fighting over something—per usual.

She doesn’t even notice at first when Paige shifts, her leg brushing against Jo’s under the covers. And then she slides a little closer, her shoulder brushing against Jo’s arm. Her face is even closer now, and Jo’s aware of that. She can feel her breath against her skin. It catches her a little off guard, but it’s not weird. It’s just how they always seem to end up—close.

“I missed you, Joey.” Paige’s voice, so soft, echoes through the room.

Jo glances up, meeting her gaze. It makes her smile. “I missed you too.”

And she did—she got so used to being so close to her that it was terrible when she was gone for so long. So bad it felt like Jo was going through withdrawal or something. And it only makes it worse that she’s flying back out in a couple days and Jo is going to have the apartment to herself again.

Paige’s face is still close, her eyes searching Jo’s for something. They’re so blue, even in the dim lighting of the room, and they feel like an ocean Jo could easily drown in.

She doesn’t know why she does it, but she presses herself closer still, their chests touching now, Jo’s nose brushing against Paige’s neck. Their legs tangle more under the sheets, and Jo feels Paige wrap her arm around her waist gently, letting it rest there. Jo doesn’t mind.

It’s just them. It’s just how they are.

PAIGE WAKES slowly, the soft morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds casting stripes across the bed. Her body feels heavy, warm, and there’s a comforting weight against her arm. Blinking her eyes open, she shifts her head on the pillow and glances down. Jo is still asleep beside her, her face soft in the pale light, her features slack with peace.

Jo looks… pretty, Paige thinks, her thoughts still hazy with sleep. Her hair is tousled, sticking up slightly at the crown from no doubt a restless turn in the night, but it only makes her look softer, less put together in a way that feels intimate. Paige is half aware of the fact that her own arm is tucked under Jo’s, her hand resting near Jo’s waist. Their legs are tangled together, too, her calf brushing Jo’s under the covers.

Paige doesn’t move immediately. She doesn’t want to. It’s warm like this, comfortable, and even though the logical part of her brain tells her to pull away, to avoid making it weird, she stays where she is.

Her gaze lingers on Jo’s face, on the slight curve of her lips, the freckles dusted across her nose that are barely visible. There’s something unguarded about Jo in the morning, something vulnerable and even sweeter than she is when she’s awake.

Last night drifts back to Paige’s mind. The massages, the feel of Jo’s hands on her knee, the feel of Jo’s back under her hands. The way Jo told her she missed her, too. Paige had meant it when she told her—she’d missed Jo more then she thought she would during her time in LA. But it’s not just that. There had been something else in the air last night.

Maybe it’s just the shift of being apart for a month, she tells herself. That’s all. It’s just the way things feel different when you come back to someone after being away. Things will settle back into place eventually. They always do.

Jo stirs slightly in her sleep, her brow twitching, and Paige instinctively stills, not wanting to wake her. The younger girl murmurs something unintelligible and shifts closer, her head tilting toward Paige’s shoulder, and Paige’s breath catches for half a second.

The buzz of a phone breaks the quiet, cutting through the gentle hum of the morning. Paige blinks, her thoughts scattering, and she glances toward the nightstand. The phone buzzes again. She assumes its hers—she gets texts at odd hours from basically everyone. Without thinking, she reaches out, fumbling for the phone blindly without lifting her head.

Her fingers close around the cool device, and she squints at the screen as she opens it, not wearing her glasses yet. By the lockscreen, she immediately can tell that this is not her phone, though—it’s Jo’s. She’s about to close it and put it back when the name at the top of the screen makes her freeze. Ash.

Her stomach twists. She knows that name and she knows it well. Asher. Jo’s boyfriend.

Maybe she doesn’t mean to look, maybe she does. Either way, the messages are right there, impossible to ignore.

Ash 💓

Hi baby I know it’s early

Just wanted to say I miss you

and love you

And I can’t wait to see the media day flicks you better send me them all

Paige stares at the screen for a long moment, her chest tightening in a way she doesn’t—but also might—understand. She knows she should stop looking, that this is a complete violation of Jo’s privacy, but her eyes tracy the words again. Baby. I miss you. I love you. They feel like a slap.

She exhales sharply, locking the phone and setting it back on the nightstand. Her case flicks back to Jo, still fast asleep. Her face is serene and peaceful and Paige feels an overwhelming rush of emotions. It’s not jealousy. It’s not. She’s not jealous. She has no right to be jealous of two high school sweethearts that literally grew up next door together that are probably soulmates and are someday going to get married and have babies.

She’s not jealous of that.

But, nonetheless, the knot in her stomach doesn’t go away.

She unentangles herself carefully, shifting her leg and arm away from Jo’s, mindful not to wake her. Jo murmurs something again, soft and sleepy, and Paige pauses for a second before slipping off the bed entirely. She needs space. Air.

She pads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. Her hands grip the edge of the sink, and she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess, her face slightly puffy from sleep.

She shakes her head, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on her face. It doesn’t help much.

Paige forces herself to focus, to push away the strange feelings clawing at her. Jo is her roommate, her freshie, and, yeah, basically her best friend now. And that’s all this is. That’s all it will ever be. She needs to stop overthinking. She needs to get ready for the day.

But even as she brushes her teeth and begins to brush through her hair, her thoughts keep circling back to those texts. To Asher. To Jo. And to the way Jo’s body had felt so warm and close and right against hers just minutes ago.

PAIGE STANDS in front of the mirror in the locker room, adjusting her uniform and smoothing her jersey. The bold, navy #5 stitched on the front catches her eye, and for a moment, she lingers. It feels almost strange, wearing the jersey she won’t be able to play in this season.

Not that she hasn’t come to terms with it. Paige is good at keeping herself together now, even if the pang of frustration hasn’t entirely disappeared—and won’t, she knows, until she gets to play again. But she’s learned to deal with it, to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t be on the court, she can still be here—still lead, still help her team in every way she can.

Her hair is perfectly straightened, sleek and sharp, the way she likes it. Her makeup looks good, too—just enough to emphasize her sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, but nothing overdone. The uniform ties it all together, making her look just like the player she’s supposed to be, the one she still is even if she’s stuck on the sidelines.

She takes a couple mirror pics—her annual media day mirror pics. They come out well, and she posts them to Instagram with the caption “5’ll be back soon,” because it will. She will.

By the time the day is in full effect, Paige knows the drill: photos, videos, soundbites for promos. She takes a few solo shots first, her expression switching between serious and smiles for the camera. Then it’s duo photos—first with Azzi, then with Nika and Aaliyah, her classmates. They laugh and joke between snaps, Nika managing to pinch Paige and Aaliyah during one, probably getting a perfect reaction picture.

Whilst Jo is getting her photos done, Paige is off to the side, hyping her up. When she makes Jo laugh—loud and sudden, the kind that makes her throw her head back—Paige is the one who catches the photographer’s eye. He gestures for her to join Jo, saying how he likes their energy together. Paige does as he asks, coming into view of the camera.

They stand side by side, first posed with their arms crossed, meant to look tough and intimidating. Then, the photographer tells Jo to lean her arm casually on Paige’s shoulder. Jo does, and it feels so normal, so them, that Paige doesn’t even notice how close they are until the photos pop up on the photographer’s screen.

“Yo,” Paige says, leaning in closer to the preview image. “We look good.”

Jo grins, nudging the blonde with her elbow. “Yeah, we do.”

And they do. There’s something about the way they look together—Jo’s darker features contrasting with Paige’s lighter ones, their postures balanced between playful and powerful—that feels striking.

When the photographer tells them they’re done, Jo taps Paige on the back lightly, her touch lingering for a half-second too long. Paige pretends not to notice.

They continue on through a mix of photos, promo videos, and shorter interviews. Paige’s role as “Coach P,” as everyone’s begun calling her, doesn’t go unnoticed.

Nika, of course, has to chime in. “That girl ain’t my coach,” she mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, shaking her head while she stirs a few laughs from their teammates and some of the media coordinators.

Paige rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Jo cuts in, throwing her arms around Paige’s shoulders from behind and resting her chin right by Paige’s neck. “You’re right, Nik,” Jo says, her voice teasing as her arms tighten slightly around Paige. “She’s not your coach. She’s mine.”

Nika hisses at her in mock annoyance, making Jo laugh loudly as she lets go of Paige—though not before making sure to squeeze Paige’s shoulders fondly.

Paige hardly notices the way Nika flicks at Jo’s arm afterwards, or the way Jo sticks her tongue out at her. Instead, her brain replays the words—she’s mine.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

It’s not like that, though. And, goddamn, she has to get herself together.

Luckily, she has an interview waiting for her, so she doesn’t have long to continue dwelling on it. Except, actually, she thinks she might be unlucky, because when she spots Celeste Sinclair waiting for her with that soft little smirk and a glint in her eyes, Paige almost groans aloud.

She supposes she did this to herself, though. It’s not like she didn’t know Celeste was one of their media girls when she started fucking her—it’s literally how they met.

As Paige approaches, Celeste’s eyes sweep over her, lingering just a fraction too long on the way her uniform fits. Paige notices it immediately, and begins to steel herself.

“Paige,” the redhead greets, her tone syrupy and professional, but there’s a flicker of something else underneath. Something Paige is very familiar with.

“Celeste,” Paige replies evenly, keeping her expression neutral. She folds her hands in front of her, trying not to let her irritation show. She doesn’t have time for this—doesn’t have the patience or willpower to handle another girl turned obsessed—but media day is about appearances, so she plasters on a polite smile and takes the mini mic Celeste offers her.

The questions start predictably enough. Celeste asks about her recovery, her plans for the future, how she’s adjusting. Paige answers each question with the kind of practiced ease she’s managed to master over the years. She talks about her rehab process, about staying focused, about how the comeback will be stronger than the setback. The words feel automatic now, almost rehearsed.

Still, it stings a little. Every time she’s reminded that she won’t touch the court this season, that she’ll have to watch from the bench while her teammates fight for another championship, there’s a flicker of frustration she can’t quite extinguish.

But she doesn’t let it show. Obviously.

Celeste presses on, asking something about how Paige is adapting to her new role as a leader from the bench, and Paige forces herself to smile through it. She talks about embracing the role of “Coach P,” about how it’s just as important to support the team off the court as it is on it. She doesn’t let her voice waver, doesn’t let any of the bitterness slip through.

When the interview finally wraps, Paige exhales quietly, ready to walk away—but Celeste steps closer, cutting her off.

“So,” Celeste says, her voice dropping just enough to make it clear this part isn’t for the cameras. “You’ve been busy out west, yeah? I—you haven’t been back at all lately.”

Paige sighs a little. “Yeah, well. Rehab and stuff. You know how it is.”

Celeste tilts her head. “I do. Still, I thought you might text or call or something. I left you a few messages, but you never answered.”

Paige resists the urge to roll her eyes. Celeste’s persistence is both flattering and annoying. Yeah, the sex had been good—but was it genuinely good enough for Celeste to continuously run after Paige when she’s made it more than obvious that she doesn’t really want her? Paige doesn’t think so.

But, then again, Paige is better with her tongue and fingers than Celeste is.

“Been busy,” Paige says again, brushing her off.

The red-haired girl doesn’t seem deterred, though. She leans in just slightly, murmuring, “Well, if you’re not too busy tonight or even later this week… ?”

Paige starts to shake her head, ready to shut it down. She has enough girls in her bed back in LA that she doesn’t need to make up for it here while she’s only back for a few days.

But then—her mind flashes to this morning. To Jo. To the messages from Asher. The pit that settles in her stomach when she saw the I love you and I miss you and the baby. Something about it still lingers, sharp and annoying, and Paige can’t quite shake it.

Before she really thinks about what she’s doing, she hears herself saying, “Actually, I am free tonight.”

Celeste’s face lights up, her smile widening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, her tone casual, like she isn’t committing to something she’s already dreading a little. “I fly back to LA in a couple days, so tonight works.”

Celeste doesn’t bother hiding her excitement. “Perfect. Come over later?”

Paige nods and Celeste looks almost giddy as she finally walks away.

As Paige rejoins her teammates, sitting next to Jo, the brunette smirks at her a little, judging her arm and asking, “Again?”

Paige feels heat rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. “Stop, it’s nothing,” she says quickly.

Jo doesn’t press or tease her much like anyone else would, just letting out a little laugh under her breath before getting up for one of her own interviews.

Paige can’t help but watch her during it. And think.

Jo, asleep in her bed this morning, soft and peaceful and pretty. Jo, laughing loudly during their photoshoot. Jo, whose phone had lit up with messages from a boyfriend that Paige can’t stand to think about.

Her jaw tightens slightly, and she shoves the thoughts aside. She’s going to Celeste’s tonight. At least she’ll be doing something.

[despairforme]

Had a dream he was eating french fries. Woke up. No french fries.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[wandasaura]

THE COLORS IN AUTUMN, SO BRIGHT

summary — when the weight of your anxious thoughts becomes too much, wanda knows just how to ease all your worries

warning(s) — established relationship, essentially cowgirl!wanda, mommy kink, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink, use of petnames, body marking (hickies), biting, verbal teasing, teasing, begging, ever so slight dumbification, condescending tone, fingering, orgasm control, eventual orgasm, oral fixation, slight lactation kink (no milk), subspace, aftercare, soft mommy wanda, domestic wanda, men/minors dni

authors note — welcome to kinktober gremlins! and a very happy birthday to my enemy, @esouliie.

kinktober

The sunset was soft as it fell upon the quaint little cottage you resided in with Wanda on the outskirts of a town that welcomed you eagerly. The burnt orange glow casted shadows against the walls painted a delicate eggshell, etches of tempting darkness stretching across the mantle harboring styrofoam pumpkins and wooden decorations sweetly. The interior of your home had been effectively tainted by fall since September’s end, and the alluring illumination of sunbeams brought on a sense of profound ease that gripped at your spine and aided in the release of pent up stress. You’d long since abandoned a life of constant maneuvering, settling down on the few acres of land you could snuff out that wasn’t tremendously out of reach from the bustling city. You’d given into the ease of married life, submitted to the sensation of truly belonging, but there were still factors that piled up, and romantic bliss could only alter your habits so much before the woman that you’d been before came crashing back onto you. Only now you didn’t have to handle her alone, didn’t have to dwell in seemingly eternal darkness, didn’t have to find your way out single-handedly. She’d be there to guide you; to break down all of the walls that turned you cold until all that remained was her pliant, easily agreeable girl; her baby. 

When Wanda came inside through the always unlocked front door, kicked off her mud splattered boots in the doorway with ease, you noted the basket of freshly laid eggs in her hands and smiled lazily, half-heartedly, unable to give her anything more than that despite the overwhelming joy that surged through your under stimulated nerves at the sight of her so broken down by rapturous domestication. You never had to tell her when life wore you down, because somehow, she always knew. You knew that you’d conveyed all that you needed to in the simple tired smile you offered when her nose scrunched upwards, her head tilting to the left as she cooed softly. The basket of eggs was discarded onto the side table to be dealt with later, you her main priority now. 

“Hi, my angel.” She greeted sweetly, her lips, still warm from the exposure to unconcealed daylight, brushing against your temple which was equally warm from the weight of a cozy blanket thrown over your curled up frame. With your bodies warm in their own ways, you found an addictive comfort in her touch, and desperately leaned closer, hoping to capture more of her sincere affection. It was never that simple, never that easily won; not when you were like this, not when you needed her to be more than just your doting wife and life partner, but still you tried to capture it. “Is my sweet girl having a hard time?” She cooed, hands that were still dirtied with chicken feed and mud cupping your cheeks that had seen far worse concoctions since you’d moved from the city. It had been quite the adjustment when you’d first gotten the chickens, having to face the realities of maintaining a farm and the secretions that came with unhygienic animals. Wanda was handling it better than you, and each morning she stepped into her rubber boots with pride while you hung back and tended to the house. It was an uneven dynamic without a doubt, but it worked so well for you both that neither of you minded, and embarrassingly you thought that caked on dirt only increased her attractiveness that paralyzed your inhibitions on a good day.  

You shrugged rather dismissively in response to her question, not sure of the words on the tip of your tongue that only formed in short sentences despite your efforts to elaborate. There wasn’t much going on in your head at all, but what had been made clear through physical expression alone was your deep longing for her authority and strict control. You got like this sometimes, for no rhyme or reason at all, but unlike the partners you’d had in the past that plagued you with insecurities and toxic expectations that you still muddled through from time to time even now, Wanda had never been phased – or, she’d never allowed you to see how it phased her, either could be true. Secretly, you think she rather likes this side of you, especially when she’s able to erase all feelings of dread from your weary bones and turn you into her sweet submissive eager to do anything that pleases her. Sometimes it’s a battle to break through your stubborn reserve, but other times, all it takes is the right tone of voice and a title that holds untarnished endearment and trust. Never before had any of your partners earned a title in the bedroom, but Wanda, with her calloused hands and charming smile, with her soft contagious laughter and stern commanding presence, had shown you the true bounds of a healthy committed relationship. She’d presented the title to you one night, when you were in a mood similar to now, and it had just felt right. Still, you fought its use, pushed aside its tantalizing effects, tried to lock away the desire to call her anything but her name, but it had changed you, and even with your stubborn exterior, your heart longed to have her fully; every unprotected side of her, every persona. 

“I need words, my lovely. Come on, tell Mommy what’s wrong.” There it was; that title that you had been fighting the urge to let slip past your lips since you’d rolled out of bed and found her making tea in the kitchen, already in her rubber boots and sunhat despite it being October. She’d been doused in early sunlight then, illuminated by a golden glow that allowed her hair to shine so incandescently, just like it was now hours later. She’d been in and out of the house since then, tending to the animals and the upkeep of the lawn, feeding horses and collecting chicken eggs, all while you’d laid on the couch in a strop of unexplainable angst. The reminder of your uneven dynamic weighed you down further, and expressively your features betrayed your tight lips. “Does Mommy need to take away some of that stress? I can see how tense you are, my girl. Can feel it all beneath my hands. Let Mommy help, yeah?” 

All that you could manage was a soft nod of agreement, your eyes glazing over as you stared back at her with an indistinguishable depth beneath your twinkling gaze. She had you beneath her entracing grip of control already, but there was still much to be down about your forlorn attitude. When her eyebrows knitted together, green eyes sparkling with affection albeit antagonizing incompletion, you knew that there was something more that she wanted from you; there always was. “I need words, moya lyubov.” 

“Yes.” The exasperated sigh entangled with your simply spoken consent rippled against her skin in waves, but she allowed your curtness to be forgiven for the moment, certain that eventually she’d have you pliant and begging beneath her, but there was never any prize for rushing the inevitable. The long game was far more sweet in her opinion. 

You grumbled beneath your breath when that weight of her hands caressing your flush cheeks slipped away in a single moment, replaced by cold longing and slowly building desire as you analyzed her eyes growing dark with temptation each second that passed. You watched her with hooded eyes, barely able to contain the squirming that you did now that you weren’t beneath her expectant stare, and while you didn’t feel like moving by a longshot, rundown by the weight of your sudden and unexplainable mood, you wiggled out of the soft clothing that had covered you since morning in favor of preparing yourself for her. Even if you’d need reassurance and guidance to fully snap out of the daze you’d fallen victim to, your inhibitions craved being good regardless. 

You settled back on the couch once your orange shorts speckled with cartoon bats and your t-shirt adorned with a cheerful jack-o-lantern had been folded on the coffee table, leaving you in only a pair of panties that coincidentally mirrored the festivities of fall the same way your loungewear had. The spider web design that laid over your naked mound, just beneath a delicate black bow that rested against your bikini line, would remain in place for Wanda to remove whenever she felt ready, your body having her preferences memorized even beneath the haze that consumed you. The throw pillow beneath your head was plush with newness, a decorative piece bought just a few days ago that enveloped your weight without restriction. It was perfectly comfortable, unlike the pumpkin shaped pillow on the chair across the room, but still it wasn’t Wanda, and each second reminded you of how you longed for her company as it passed. 

The sound of the faucet running, the french doors closing on the fridge, the naked footsteps drawing near, had been lost as they battled the deafening noise that filled your head. When a shadow fell over you, blocking out beams of ebbing sunlight, you’d startled reflexively, eyes scrambling to lock onto Wanda who stood above you with refined amusement twinged into her smirk. “My baby’s all ready for me, huh?” The heat of her acknowledgment replaced the warmth where sunlight had once fallen, and desperately you squirmed beneath her stare saturated in tender affection. “Such a good girl, keeping your panties on, hm. You know how much Mommy loves to be the one to take them off.” 

You swallowed thickly, sinking into the cushions as she came closer with each softly spoken acknowledgment of your obedience. Your eyes drooped lustfully as you sought to meet her stare through thick lashes, clouded with submission that hadn’t yet earned the strength to break through your reserve entirely, though its effort to prevail was commendable. Without warning – very few things came with a warning when Wanda was in this headspace – her weight caused the couch to dip slightly as she knelt on either side of your pliant body, but her deliciously toned thighs encasing your wanting frame kept you from rocking too harshly to the side. 

“You just need your Mommy, huh? Too many thoughts in that pretty head. That’s okay, Mommy’s here.” She cooed sweetly, leaning close until her lips, polished with a glimmering layer of cinnamon chapstick that she’d picked up from the farmers market last week, laid softly against your temple in a sweet show of tender affection that would remain unwavering no matter the acts she committed to your body in fleeting moments of intimacy and trust. The foundation of your relationship didn’t rely on the adventures of your sex life, and while Wanda could be downright vulgar, there were always elements of your thoughtful wife beneath the surface of her addictive dominance. Her trail of kisses started at your temple, soft and sweet as it warmed your skin and heart alike, but as she traveled lower, grew confident and bolder with her actions, the mark of her lips felt like an eternally burning fire that marked you fully. When her lips wrapped around your nipple for a brief moment, hot tongue soothing the ache tha thad become intertwined with your arousal due to your pebbled buds having been left untouched for so long as you’d waited for her return, your back arched off the couch, hands tangling into her hair desperately. But, before her touch and those delicious licks of pleasure were truly yours to grasp onto, she moved lower, kissed harsher, bit rougher. Your belly became a canvas of soft pinks and deep purples, marks of her passion left to gaze at even in the sensual aftermath, and each new mark pulled gasps and whines from your lips that had still refused to utter that one title that would ease all of your stress. 

When she reached the hem of your panties, the black bow a delicate touch to your sole article of clothing, you moaned lewdly as she nipped at it, pulling away from your body only to release the silk fabric and watch as the elastic band snapped against your bikini line harshly. You writhed at the welcomed albeit abrupt sting that slithered up your body until it met that existing coil of pleasure in your belly and added to the insatiable pressure blooming slowly, feeling hot breath fan across where you needed her most, although any semblance of desired pressure was withheld, and as she continued to taunt, to tease, to poke every button except the one you needed most, you grew desperate and impatient. As her teeth sank into the sensitive skin of your thigh for the fourth time, you snapped your legs closed around her head firmly, arching your back until your core was just out of reach from her mouth. 

“Please!” The strain in your voice was near pathetically desperate, and you were highly aware of the sticky arousal that darkened the fabric of your panties, typically a shade of soft burnt orange. The patch of moisture where desire pooled was deep and obvious to the naked eye even if you yourself couldn’t see it, and Wanda set her gaze on it with a near primal glint sparkling beneath the surface that nipped at your senses and pulled you beneath the rip current of her addictive essence. 

With an expression curated through years of meticulous practice, her full lips coated in cinnamon chapstick formed the perfect pout as she trailed her gaze upwards and over your body until her dazzling green eyes fell upon your own, and so elusively she had you believing in the genuinity of her puzzled concern and sincerity. “Please, what? What do you need from me, my love?” 

“Touch me! Please!” You begged shamelessly, although still with caution, forbidding yourself from slipping beneath her brutal intoxication just yet, however you slackened your hold on her head willingly, knowing that even if you hadn’t she’d have pried your thigh apart until your core opened itself up to her and whatever sadistic urges she felt the need to bestow upon your desperate body. Your thoughtfulness was rewarded with a single finger dragging down the center of your panties; over the engorged button that had once been your unaroused clit, through the passageway of your folds that parted for her easily at the slightest application of featherlight pressure, until it found that patch of tantalizing wetness that pooled at your opening which she prodded at tauntingly. 

“But I am touching you, sweetheart. I know that pretty head of yours is so fuzzy right now, but can’t you feel me?” The pout that formed across her lips only deepened as she pressed harder against you, her own eyes becoming lidded with arousal that wasn’t easily warded off, however, she’d always been better at self control than you. Desperately thrashing your hips upward, it seemed your show of desperation had finally weakened her stone exterior, and with a faux sigh of reluctance, she tapped your hip twice, fingers damp from your arousal threading into the waistband of your panties and beginning to pull them away once you’d complied with her silent demand and lifted your hips. “There, is that better, darling? No more icky panties keeping me from having you fully?” 

“Have me.” Your attempt at bargaining for pleasure was merely a breathy plea, your eyes fluttering closed as a slight draft creeping in from the open window fell upon your exposed core. Wanda smiled smugly at your wilting defiance, her fingers pressing into your folds and collecting wetness that pooled at your entrance like glittering pearls. You gasped a ragged sounding breath when the first finger sank into your core, single knuckle deep but still something to work with. “Please! M– Wanda!” The call of her name on your lips as she sank deeper inside of you, exploiting all of the spots that made you weak with pleasure naturally, was instinctual, but at the very last second you’d realized your near mistake and corrected it, although that near slip had her growing bolder once more, her touches becoming pointed and driven. 

“So close. You’re almost there, my pretty girl. Relax, just let Mommy touch you. There’s no need for those big daunting thoughts right now. You’re too little for those.” She preened, once again adjusting her position on the couch and subsequently jostling the single digit buried within your most intimate canal. The abrupt movement had you seeing stars, her blunt nail scraping across your sweet spot momentarily. With her weight resting on her shins, the couch supporting both of you evenly, she leaned in close, brushing her lips against yours in a tender embrace that had you truly submitting; releasing everything that had built up within you without your notice. 

As one finger became two, and her thumb sought out your swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, there was little spoken word that filled the living room in the build up of pleasure. Your whines and gasps became fast paced and frenzied, desperate for that finite explosion that would send you plummeting into submission and ease, but as she wound you up, imposed blinding pleasure upon you, she held you there firmly, unwilling to allow that coil to snap before you gave her that one thing she wanted. “Please! Please! I’m so close!” Your hands grabbed at her overalls, that faded light denim so loved and broken in from hours of labor on the farm the perfect fabric to grip possessively in moments such as now. 

“I know, detka. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, can hear how wet you are. Just let go. Stop trying to hold on and let go for me. For Mommy.” Her fingers that had set a rushed pace slowed to a near complete stop, and you sobbed in defeat as that blinding climax that had been building slipped away for the second time. 

“Please! Mommy! Please!” There it was, so soft as it fell off of your lips that had become flush with blood as you gnawed and nipped at them with anticipation since the start of her teasing. Wanda only smiled, allowing the thumb that had been previously stroking at your nipples to pull at your bottom lip, sinking into your warm mouth when you parted your lips. As you suckled on her heavy digit, took in the faint traces of your arousal on her skin, her fingers in your core picked up speed again, and without hesitation, she allowed you to fall over the edge into bliss. 

“There we go. Good girl. My good girl. Did so well for me. So good for Mommy.” She cooed, easily working you down from that blinding climax that had your thighs trembling and tears springing to your beautiful eyes. She pulled her thumb away from your mouth prematurely, wanting to hold you close as the aftermath of your orgasm fell upon you fully, leaving you with nowhere to hide from the intense emotions that no longer had walls to keep them prisoner. 

Collecting you in her arms, pulling you snug against her chest, you whined at the sensation of weightlessness on your tongue, still desperate and eager to have that intimate connection and stimulation. Without words, not needing to hear what you needed from her because she already knew — she always knew — the button on her overalls was undone easily, and like you’d done on a few nights before, your mouth that sought her skin latched onto her nipple, eyes fluttering closed in blissful submission as you had her close. 

“I love you, my girl.” She hummed softly, lips pressing against your temple once more, sealing her affection with a kiss that you’d never complain about. 

[enwoso]

PINK SKIES || alessia russo

this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.

this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍

WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.

"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.

alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.

alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.

it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.

"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.

"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.

"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.

but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.

some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.

"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.

you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.

it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.

a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.

but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.

you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.

“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.

“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.

both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.

you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.

alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.

"your actually coming to london!"

"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”

"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"

"me neither y/n, me neither."

or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.

alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.

both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.

everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.

but for you it couldn't have been further from that.

after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.

you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.

if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?

if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.

if the team conceded it was your fault.

if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.

in the eyes of the public you could do no right.

but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.

in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.

but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.

“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.

“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.

a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.

“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.

alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, ���y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”

a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.

“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.

alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”

lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.

“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.

“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.

“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.

“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.

“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.

“i wish tomorrow came”

you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.

the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.

after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?

any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.

any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"

alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.

it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.

she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.

however tomorrow for you, never came.

[elliespuns]

Joel Miller's House

and the little details that melt my heart (make me squirm)

I truly adore Joel's cozy porch. It has the perfect ambiance for him to relax and spend quality time with Sarah on warm summer days or quiet evenings. The presence of the water kettle on the table suggests that his porch is a frequent gathering place. Noticing the pumpkins already arranged, despite the fact that the outbreak occurred on September 26th, I feel like someone might have been a bit too eager for Halloween festivities.

Who would have guessed that Joel has always been ready to rock formal Oxford shoes? Young man Joel in a dark suit, tie, and Oxfords? Fuck, I need to breathe.

I thought I was going to shriek in surprise when my eyes landed on the weathered cowboy hat perched on the wall hook. It was such a striking (sexy) contrast to the construction helmet and simple baseball cap. The mere thought of Joel donning a casual baseball hat makes me go bananas. What do they say again? "Save a horse..."

This photograph of Joel and Sarah sitting upon the table, beside Joel's spot on the couch, has forever graced my heart. This tender image speaks volumes of the pure, affectionate bond they shared. Plus, the humble bowl of peanuts resting nearby suggests that Joel probably liked these simple snacks during movie nights together.

When I realize that Joel's true intentions were to launch his own business, reading up on critical matters like "buying a contract" and "everything you need to know to create a startup", it makes me want to cry. The poor man had been working tirelessly, pouring his heart and soul into every endeavor, driven by a burning desire to one day give Sarah the life she deserved. He was doing everything within his power, leaving no stone unturned, but fate had other plans.

The precious photo of baby Joel and his father sharing a fishing trip together unleashes a flood of emotions for me every time. The faded snapshot, forever frozen in time, clearly held a special place in our man's heart, since he kept it enshrined in a frame, with a candle next to it—a tender tribute to the loving dad he lost.

The man was utterly engrossed in the plans for his new project that he was planning in silence. Now let's talk about the old framed photo on his bedside table showing his parents dancing together. It just makes my day. I'm not even going to comment on the napkins sitting there so innocently.

This framed wedding photo of a young couple sitting on the bookshelf in Joel's study has been living in my mind rent free. While the groom looks nothing like Joel, I am certain that this couple is neither his parents (Joel has other photos of them in the house) nor his brother. The question is; who are these people? What connection could they possibly have to Joel? It seems too intimate, too personal, to have a picture of any random couple in such a private sanctum as his study. Could it be that Joel bleached his hair in his youth? After all, that was a common trend in the 90s. I'm scared to even speak this aloud, folks, but what if there's a possibility this couple could actually be a younger Joel and his wife? But then again, Sarah is blond, and this woman is not! (give me reasons to think I'm mistaken in the comments because I'm going crazy over here).

Joel's ardent love for music was evident throughout his home, with a sprawling collection of CDs adorning every room. However, it was the prominent display of CDs by Axel Diggs that stood out above the rest. Probably Joel's favorite musician.

The sunglasses lying on the table by the front door give me butterflies. Joel in sunglasses? It's a crime nobody has ever given us a single photo of Joel Miller in sunglasses. Oh, and the lottery tickets scattered around? Apparently, there's a gambler lurking within the man I thought I knew so well.

As an added treat, I mustn't leave out these two absolutely precious photos that appear to show Joel's parents back in their youth. What a touching gesture by this man to have kept these on proud display all these years. My heart just swells with affection for him seeing this.

[ghosty-writes-23]

Let Me Be Your Inspiration. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, !CONSENT IS KEY!, SoftDom!Leon, Praise, Hints Of Degrading, Cockwarming, Blow Job, Eating Out, !WRAP IT, BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Mating Press, Choking, Spit Play, Aftercare.

Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Writer!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “Want Me To Fuck You Like The Characters In Your Books.” After a cozy night in with your husband editing your books, you decided you want to recreate the smut scene you had written early in the back with your darling husband Leon.

Word Count: 4.5k

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interreact // 18+ Content.

On a cold winter’s night you were snuggled into your comfortable and cozy marshmallow couch, with Oreo curled up by your side purring softy as she enjoyed the warmth of your warm blanket and affection. You were wearing one of your husbands’ oversized hoodies since the weather was a little chillier than usual tonight and you couldn’t be bothered lighting the fireplace, you had been engrossed in your story writing for your next coming book project, that you had been working on for the past couple of months.

It was a spicy enemies to lover’s dark romance about a girl that is a rookie agent that falls in love with a higher up government agent that is her boss, they don’t get along at first but after a steamy training session things get a little more heated between the pair, and yes you did use your husband Leon for inspiration with his consent of course.

Finishing your final sentence, you glanced down at the time on your computer seen it was almost 6pm, which meant you had to start making dinner soon, since Leon had cooked last night even when it wasn’t his turn, but just as you stretched your arms above your head, your back popping slightly as some of your bones moved back into place, you heard the front door open and the familiar heavy boots on the hardwood floor that belonged to your darling husband.

Ace your German Shepard came flying into the room excitedly but panting, before he disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink, turning your head your eyes landed on Leon as he was taking off his jacket and placing Ace’s leash on the hook beside the door.

You didn’t say anything but you let your eyes run along the curves of his body, his t-shirt was tight around his biceps, showing off his muscles he worked hard to maintain for the sake of his job and bedroom activities, since he liked to go for multiple rounds especially after a stressful day, or being away for long periods of times because of missions. Sometimes you wonder how lucky you were to meet Leon when you did, you will admit it wasn’t the most romantic setting and was in the middle of a zombie outbreak, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

*Flashback.*

September 30th 1998 was a night you would never forget, it was night filled with unspeakable horrors, zombies and other creatures, the smell of rotting flesh and gunpowder and even an unexpected romance between yourself and a young rookie cop, you were at university and an English major with a love of book and writing even your own stories. You lived in raccoon city at the time of the incident; you had headed to the RPD as they were promising shelter and medical care for all citizens and you didn’t have much option since your university dorm room had been over ran with your classmates who had now been turned into flesh eating monsters.

When you had reached the police department, having had to go through the back and through the back fire escape and into a bloody hallway with bodies everywhere, you tried not to gag as you headed to what you hopefully thought was an unlocked door, luckily it was and you found yourself in the east office area on the first floor.

You were surprised to see some of the sections had already been opened, almost as if somebody had been through, you had armed yourself with a pistol you found on a desk and you decided to go and see if you could find anybody alive. You had walked around looking for anybody, but there was no sign of life expect for zombies and these gold awful creatures that looked as if they had been skinned alive, you had found out they were very sensitive to sound so you had to tread very carefully, you were on guard the whole time.

It wasn’t until you were on the 3rd floor balcony when you meet the man that would make this night of horror a little easier to bare. He wore a police uniform that was currently soaked with rain, his dark blonde hair was sticking to his forehead, he was an officer and was trying to make the same sense of this situation as you were. for a moment you both where speechless as if you were studying the details of each other’s face.

“I’m Y/n.” you say softly breaking the silence between you too, the male reached up and tucked some of your fallen wet hair behind your ear. “I’m Leon.” He says causing you to smile softly at his gesture, you felt yourself blush slightly and you could see him smiling as well, you were covered in zombie blood, creature gut juice and god knows what else and yet Leon looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

You two had survived the night together, not leave each other’s side and fighting side by side, when you finally got out of the police department and where on the outskirts of the city you breathed a sigh of relief, even though you had gotten injuried in your leg by landing on a piece of broken glass after you and Leon where chased by the sewer monster that was an alligator but that was no normal alligator.

You had been leaning against Leon for support as you both walked down an old dirt road. “you know this would make a great story.” Leon says as he helped by supporting your back, he had offered to piggyback you but you knew he was just as exhausted as you were and you didn’t want to be a burden on him.

“I am not writing the horrors we witness into a book.” You laughed shaking your head at him. “come on you could write an amazing story.” Leon says making an embarrassed blush to come onto your cheeks, you had told Leon about your passion for writing stories and he wanted to read your work.

“If I write something I will send you a copy.” You tell him and he gave you a smile, the same one he gave you when you two had meet not even 24 hours ago. “I look forward to it.” He says as you both traveled to the next city and you could finally have the shower you so desperately wanted.

*End Of Flashback.*

It was one hell of a night, and as perfect as your marriage seemed now, there were times that isn’t wasn’t so easy and balanced, you were there when Leon used to drink himself to sleep because he couldn’t deal with the trauma of Raccoon city, you where there when he blamed himself for every person that he loved and cared about dying, he pushed you away thinking all he ever brought you was bad luck, there where times he would purposefully not come home after a mission because he didn’t want you see him in the state he was in.

you were both nearly driven to a divorce because that is what you thought Leon wanted, you even had the papers mailed to you, but after a dangerous and life threatening mission and when he saw the signed papers that were on the kitchen counter when he returned home, he knew things needed to change, he made a vow to get better to be the husband you needed and deserved, he went to therapy and you both went to marriage counselling and now you were in the best possible place you could be and are even stronger as a couple now.

You also knew that your pets had an positive impact on your marriage as well, Ace was like your younger son, even thought he was an older police dog he acted like a big puppy, always full of energy and wanting to play games especially around Leon when he was home, but he loved affection from the both of you and he was a handful, then you have sweet but slightly temperamental Oreo that mostly keeps to herself and will only show affection when she wants too, but she like cuddles on a winter night or staying around either you or Leon when your home.

As your eyes meet his blue ones there was a small smirk on his lips. “What sweetheart.” Leon asked as he walked over to you and placed a gentle kiss on your neck, his slight stubble softly scratching your neck causing you to giggle softly. “just happy.” You replied before feeling another kiss being placed on your neck this time you could feel his teeth softly grazing your neck making you shiver in delight. “Well, I’m going to shower and then I will make dinner for us.” Leon says as he moved away from you, but quickly you reached out and grabbed his hand before he got too far.

“its my turn to cook tonight, you cooked last night.” You tried to argue with him as you gave your husband’s hand a soft squeeze, but Leon shook his head as he leaned down and gave your lips a soft kiss. You could still taste the faint hint of his sweet sports drink he takes when he is working out on his lips, it was berry flavoured.

“I rarely get to cook for you, please let me tonight.” He says resting his forehead on yours it was true Leon rarely cooked for you since he was rarely home because of his job and never getting time off work, the only reason he was home at the moment was because after his last mission to Alcatraz, he insisted on having some vacation time afterwards which was luckily approved.

Once it was approved Leon rushed home like an excited puppy, finally gets to spend some time with his beloved wife. His callous hands gently cupping your face and his thumb softly caressing your cheek, it always melted your heart when he did something like this, you knew you weren’t going to be able to argue with him.

“Fine but I’m cooking tomorrow.” You tried to playfully argue with him, but he just smiled and gently kissed you again. “whatever you say sweetheart.” He mumbles cheekily against your lips before kissing you again then pulling away going upstairs to the bathroom.

Shaking your head at his goofy antics you couldn’t help but grin slightly to yourself, as your head rested on the back of the couch, even after all of these years Leon still makes you feel the same butterflies you felt all those years ago on the RPD balcony, even thought you where both older and more wiser to you he will always be the man that saved your life and for that you were enterally grateful for meeting him.

*Later That Night.*

After eating the dinner Leon made, it was a simple pasta dish since he asked you what you where craving and you said carbs, he always knew exactly what to make you, it was a chicken and cheese pasta. Currently you were in the living room, a random movie playing on Netflix in the background so it wasn’t dead quiet.

Ace and Oreo were sleeping together on the large pet bed in the living room since it was big enough for the both of them and fluffy, while Leon was reading over what you had written today, as you wanted his approval on it and for him to proof read it since he can always find mistakes where you can’t and his grammar skills were slightly better then yours.

Leon edited your chapter from today, one of his hands was on your laptop his blue eyes scanning your words and fixing a few grammar mistakes, his other hand was in your hair as he gently massaged your scalp as your head rested on his sweatpants covered thigh while his cock rested perfectly in your mouth as you cockwarmed him, you wanted to show your husband how much you appreciated his help and what better way then to let him use you for his own pleasure for a while.  

You used your tongue softly to feel every bump, vein and ridge as you made a soft slurp noise, so you weren’t drooling everywhere. He was heavy on your tongue, but the weight brought you a sense of comfort as your eyes were closed happily. When you felt a gentle tug on your hair your eyes fluttered open before you looked up at Leon through your lashes. “you really do spoil me doll.” He softly praises you as his hand moves from your hair to your face, his callous hands gently stroking the soft skin of your slightly blushing cheek.

Instead of replying you took him deeper in your mouth causing you to gag slightly, but you pushed that through aside when you heard Leon’s deep groan, the sound alone was enough to make you clench around nothing. “Fuck princess.” He grunts before he moved your laptop onto the couch beside him and gives you his full attention, with his now free hand he used it to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep your hair out of your face.

There was a slight pain in your jaw, but you pushed that thought to the side and lifted your head up slightly to give yourself some room to swallow the precum that was already in your mouth, you gently sucked on his cock tip causing a soft whine to leave his lips before you started to bob your head at a steady pace as you sucked in your cheeks.

You could feel him moving his hips slightly to the rhythm of your head as you tried to take him deeper, but it caused you to gag slightly, you could feel his thumb gently caress your cheek wiping the stray tear. “don’t push yourself to much sweetheart.” Leon tells you causing you to look up at him.

You could see the lust in his eyes but also the love and affection, you wanted to make him feel good like he had done for you countless times, You used your hands to pump what you couldn’t fit before you felt him twitch on your tongue, you knew he was close by the pitch of his moans, breath a deep breath through your nose you decided to push Leon’s cock deep into your throat until your nose was touching his pubic area. “Fuck Y/n.” You heard Leon curse loudly as you felt his body tense up then a thick steam of cum filled your throat and mouth.

A few tears ran down your cheeks as you tried your best to swallow what you could, pulling off with a soft pop you placed your hand over your mouth as there was quite a bit of mess, you swallowed the rest before coughing slightly.

Leon looked at you worriedly as if all the pleasure was gone from his face and he was worried about you. “I’m okay.” You reassured him after you coughed a few times and caught your breath. “you sure?” Leon asked you as he gently rubbed your back, you nodded your head before you felt his thumb on your bottom lip.

“as pleasurable as that was, it was very stupid of you.” Leon says looking into your eyes, you could hear the seriousness in his tone, but also the worry and care. “I know I’m sorry, I just wanted to make you feel good.” You say to him with a soft pout, but Leon couldn’t stay mad at you felt him press a soft kiss to your lips as he rested his forehead on yours. “knowing your happy and comfortable makes me happy.” Leon says making you playfully roll your eyes. “that’s not what I mean.” You say as you look up at him to which he just grins at you.

Getting off the couch Leon picked you up with ease causing you to giggle softly as you clung to him. “where are we going?” you asked as he started to walk upstairs to your guys shared bedroom. “to bed sweetheart.” Leon says but there is a smirk on his lips, he was up to something, and you knew it. On the way to your shared bedroom, you started to kiss and softly bite your husband’s neck to tease him, you could tell he was smiling and even felt a gentle smack on your ass.

Once in your bedroom he kicked the door closed and laid you on the bed, his neck was covered in little love bites done by you which caused you to grin as he hovered over you. “my turn.” Leon says as he pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your jawline then your neck, his hands going under his hoodie you’re wearing and gently caressing the soft skin of your body.

His touch alone made a shiver run down your spine as he started to trail his kisses down your neck to your chest, then pushing his hoodie you were wearing up and placing more kisses down your chest trailing down to your stomach.

When he reached the top of your shorts Leon’s loving blue eyes looked up at yours, nodding your head he hooked his fingers into your shorts and carefully pulled them down, leaving you in your panties on your bottom half, you could see the hungry and lust clouding his eyes as he licked his lips when he saw the wet patch on your panties.

He gave your clit a soft kiss through your panties causing you to gasps soft and grip the blanket under your body. “Leon.” You whine his name softly causing a deep chuckle to leave his lips.

 “I know baby I know.” Leon says smirking to himself before he pulled your panties to the side and ran his tongue up your wet folds in one swipe, causing a sweet moan to leave your lips as you bucked your hips slightly, your fingers finding their way into his dark hair and softly tugging, pulling him closer to your wet heat.

Getting your message Leon used his index finger and middle finger to spread your pussy, before sliding his tongue inside and slowly thrusting it as his nose gently bumped your clit, as his stubble gently scratched your inner thigh with every movement.

You where withering under him, your toes curling as your thighs trembled against his head. “Fuck.” You cursed slightly as your back arched slightly but he didn’t stop, only gripping your hips slightly harder keeping you steady for him. You could hear him softy slurping and even feel him suckling, it was getting to much for you as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

“I’m cumming.” You moaned sweetly as you gripped the pillow under your head, you could hear Leon groaning against you as he doubled his efforts and pulled you closer to his face as he buried his face in your wet core.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” Leon groaned against your core, his deep and raspy lust filled voice alone was enough to push you over the edge, the knot in your stomach finally snapped you came with a loud cry of Leon’s name, your back arched off the bed as you felt your whole-body tremble.

When you finally came down from your high you gently pushed Leon’s head away with how sensitive you were, when he reluctantly pulled away his face was wet and there was a wide grin on his face.

“seem after all these years, I can still leave you breathless.” Leon says as he licked his lips, you playfully roll your eyes but there is a laugh on your lips as well. “it seems you do, now are you going to hurry up and fuck me.” You say back at him with a smirk. “yes ma’am.” He says before reaching into the bedside table draw to grab a condom and some lube.

As Leon ripped open the condom packet with his teeth and placed the rubber protection around his cock, you had grabbed the bottle of lube and applied some to your soaked heat. You knew you were wet enough but this was just a safety precaution to not cause you any discomfort.

“You ready darling?” Leon asks as he tapped the tip of his cock on your pussy a few times, you nodded your head biting your bottom lip as your legs rests on either side of his hips, slowly he began to push in the familiar starching making you moan softy and slightly dig your nails into his muscular shoulders.

He always stretched you perfectly like nobody else could. One he had fully bottomed out and you had adjusted to his size comfortably Leon leaned forward and gently kissed your head. “you okay?” he asks looking down at you.

Looking up you gave him a smile and leaned up and softly kissed his lips, as you gently kissed Leon you could feel his hips start to move slowly and steady, pleasure ran through your body causing you to moan against his lips as you both moved with each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

But as slow and sweet as his thrusts where you needed more, you needed him to be rougher with you, reaching over you grabbed one of his hands there was gripping the pillow by your head you placed it around your throat.

“be rougher with me Leon.” You moan softy wanting him to choke you, he stopped for a second his hips stilling, you through you had said something wrong and possibly made him uncomfortable, but before you could ask him what’s the matter, both of your legs are placed on his shoulders in the mating press position as his hand that was currently around your throat slightly tightens.

“Is this what you wanted doll, for me to fuck you like the characters you write about in your books.” Leon asks as he leaned down to your ear and gently bites the lobe as his once gently thrusts where hard and deep causing the deep to creak slightly.

You wanted to argue with him, but you couldn’t deny it you loved it when Leon fucked you like this, you liked it when he was loving and gentle, his touch careful and delicate, but other times you liked it when he was like this rough and slightly mean, when he bent your body for his pleasure, but you knew his ultimate goal was to please you. “Yes.” You choked out as your eyes started to roll back as Leon’s cock was hitting your sweet spot perfectly causing you whines and moans to leave your lips.

“then I’ll give you some inspiration.” Leon groans feeling you tighten around him as he picks up the pace, he pressed your legs closer to your chest and tightened his hand around your neck slightly more causing you to hear your heartbeat in your ears, as you start to feel lightheaded. Your moans were getting whiner and higher pitched, soon you felt Leon’s other hand came up to your face as his thumb was on your bottom lip as he gently pulled your mouth open.

Knowing what he was going to do, you laid your tongue flat for him before you felt him spit into your mouth causing a whine to leave your throat as you swallowed. “dirty slut.” Leon grunted as he grinned down at you, he knew how dirty you liked things, he had read all your books and he knew you used your bedroom activities for inspiration for them, he was just glad that he could bring these scene you had written down to life for your pleasure.

“Leon.” You moaned loudly feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, you knew there was a mess of lube, precum and your juices on the bed beneath your ass. “I know sweetheart, I know.” He grunts moving some of your sweaty hair out of your face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.

“You going to cum for me baby?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head quickly feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach. “Yes.” you choked out in between moans; your thighs were trembling, and your head was feeling light and hazy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow filling up the condom.

After a couple of moments, you both found yourselves laughing and smiling with each other as you leaned up and brushed some of Leon’s wet and sweaty hair from his face. “so, I take it you like what I wrote today.” You say with a grin as this was exactly how you imagined the chapter you had written today.

“I did but maybe next time we can do some roleplay, I might even dress up as this government agent you seem to love writing about.” He says with a soft smile before he slowly and carefully pulls out of your now oversensitive pussy and discards the condom on the bin beside your shared bed.

“now that would be a treat.” You say before you move over and nuzzle into his side, your head resting on his chest as his hand is softly running down your back. “I love you.” You say to Leon as you looked at the matching black bands on your fingers, the sight of them still brings a smile to your face.

“I love you too sweetheart, did you want to shower or cuddle.” Leon asks as he kisses the top of your head. “a shower can wait.” You said closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth and feeling of Leon’s body next to yours. “okay honey.” Leon says pulling you closer to his body as you both just enjoyed the company of each other…

------

Bonus Head Canons for Writer!Fem!Reader.

Leon will take you on his motorbike to bookstores for dates, you can pick as many books as you would like.

He will carry all of the book he purchased you not wanting you to strain yourself.

Leon will listen to you rant about your favourite fictional characters.

He likes it when you use his head as a pillow while you read your books, or cuddle together on the couch while you are writing, he just likes being close to you.

Yes he will recreate your favourite smut book scenes.

He is your number one fan of your books and comes to every signing when he can, if he isn't working.

He will talk about you at work and even recommend people your books.

Leon is the model for some of your book covers, but you kept his face hidden for privacy reasons.

He doesn’t get jealous when you have a new fictional husband from a new book you read.

If he can’t find you, he knows you’re in the in-home library he built you for valentines day. (!One-Shot Link!)

----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coffee and Other Things

DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language

WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things

A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.

If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there

Universe masterlist

God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.

You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 

You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.

But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 

"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."

"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 

Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 

She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 

"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 

The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 

"Thank you daddy!" 

"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 

Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  

You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 

"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 

"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 

You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?

"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 

"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 

"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 

You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 

"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 

"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 

"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 

Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 

But you were so glad you were wrong. 

~~~~

"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 

You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 

This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 

"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.

His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 

"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 

Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 

"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 

Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 

"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 

He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 

He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.

Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 

"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 

He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 

Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 

"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 

"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 

"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 

“Hmph… Careful baby.” 

You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.

“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 

He found the concern in your voice endearing. 

“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 

“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 

“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 

“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 

He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 

“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 

All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 

“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 

Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 

His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 

“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 

It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 

“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 

“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 

Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 

“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 

Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 

He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 

“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 

Please. 

God. 

Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 

“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 

Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 

“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 

“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 

You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 

“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 

He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 

“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 

“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 

He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 

“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.

“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 

“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 

“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 

A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 

“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 

“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 

And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 

You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 

“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”

[nicksolemnlyswears]

FORGED UNDER FIRE

blurb: when brennan sorrengail died he left more than his family and a dragon behind. he left his best friend. he left his lover. he left his unborn child.

pairing: brennan sorrengail x rider! reader

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first and foremost, this is unedited. second, i've had this in my drafts since i finished reading fourth wing in september. i kinda wanted to make it a fic but lost some steam. i don't think i'll continue this but if i do it will be shorter blurbs/moments rather than the 10k monstrosities i like to write. i figured it wouldn't do anything in my drafts so here you go!

i like the idea of brennan having someone he befriends and takes under his wing while at basgiath war college. there's so much we don't know about him and this is me filling some of the gaps with the wonderful fanfiction.

i hope you enjoy! i honestly love fourth wing so damn much and i can't wait for onyx storm. i even have tickets for rebecca yarros tour in january. so yes, read, enjoy and let me know what you think!

The cold wind drifted around you, ruffling the grass and the branches of the dispersed trees. The sunrise was turning from a beautiful deep blue to a pale pink that bled into orange. The chill bites into your cheeks and nose, reddening them, but you welcomed it. It numbed the pain that continued to tear through your heart.

“You must stop thinking so much about him.” Your dragon Calliss shares through your link. She’s the angry voice in your head reminding you to move forward.

“I thought we agreed I could wallow in my misery this time of year.”

The day that marks his death came and went yet it left you with a whirlwind of emotions. You should’ve moved on long ago, the pain in your chest turned into a soft ache that you remember fondly as you rebuild your life without him. Still, it remains a deep gash that continues to bleed and keeps you up at night, unmoving.

“You have better things to do.” Calliss reminds you. Its inscription day and people from all over the continent will be arriving to drop off their children.

“Mhm. Yeah, sure.”

The red dagger tail huffs behind you. The air coming from her nostrils counteracting the cold breeze. She’s moody because you shut her out instead of letting her help.

The ground lightly shakes and the air stirs as another dragon lands near Calliss. General Sorrengail’s brown dragon, Aimsir. The older woman approaches you and sits down beside you on the damp grass. Despite her reputation she’s been kind to you, patient even. She’s kept you close, tucked under her wing just like he used to.

Your signet allowed Lilith to keep you closer than most. Otherwise, she’d have no choice but to leave you on your own to battle your emotional wounds.

It tends to weigh in your conscious that she only does it because you have the last piece of him. Had it not been the case, would she have cared as much?

At the same time, you’re eternally grateful. Had it not been for Lilith Sorrengail you would definitely be cold and dead. Despite all the bad days, there have been good ones woven in and you wouldn’t trade those for nothing in the world.

“Violet goes today,” Lilith says, looking at you sternly.

“You sure this is what you want to do?” You ask her, keeping your gaze on the mountain and the sunrise.

Lilith has discussed Violet's inscription with you time and time again. It's the one thing she continues to think about since the death of her husband, which is unusual. The woman is confident in her decisions, she's calculating and precise. A wonderful quality for a commander, but it falters when it comes to her children.

“Do you think she won’t be able to make it?”

You sigh and look down at the grass before your eyes shift up to look at her. “She’ll make it. She might've been raised by a scribe but she was also raised by you and Mira and Brennan which means Violet won't go down without a fight. She won’t go down easy. It is my belief dragons respect that.”

Saying his name is difficult. It's heavy on your tongue as you enunciate the syllables. So familiar yet strange at the same time.

Lilith hums in agreement, leaving a period of silence to hang in the air. She’s giving you time to talk, to bring him up. When you don’t she takes matters into her own hands.

“I can’t believe it’s been five years.”

“Only five and it feels like a century,” you scoff, pulling at the grass blades near your crossed feet. Calliss and Aimsir shuffle behind you two, making the ground tremble. It used to scare you as a cadet.

“You should get out there again, try and find something that at least resembles what you had with Brennan,” Lilith dares say.

You gasp in a sharp intake of air at the mention of his name. It’s not a surprise for Lilith to suggest such a thing. After all, it’s been five long years since Brennan left, died. But, does she not feel like she’s betraying her own son by suggesting this?

“She’s right,” Calliss voice purrs in your ear. She’s suggested it more than once, begging you to ‘release the tension you have inside.’ You've tried but the sense of betrayal that follows reopens old wounds.

“Hush, Calliss.”

Calliss growls from behind you, voicing her displeasure at you telling her to quiet. Humans do not tell dragons what to do.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able replicate what I had with Bren. It was forged at Basgiath under the threat of imminent death. I was another person there who needed help desperately and Bren was the perfect person to guide me. He was one of a kind, our circumstances were one of a kind. It might’ve been short lived but it held so much value.” You give Lilith a smile and shake your head, “I have everything I need. I’m making a name for myself, which was what I always wanted. I was married, and I have a child who I love to death.”

Lilith nods offering you one of her rare smiles. She stands, dusting off her clothes from any sticking grass. “Speaking of, we have to make our way back before he wakes and brings the house down.”

You nod and laugh, “Oh, he’s going to throw a fit when Violet goes.”

Your son and Violet are as thick as thieves. They get along well and Violet loves to spoil him. She’s never one to turn down babysitting or entertain him when you need a break. After all, he's what she has left of her brother.

“Maybe Mira will get him to calm down,” Lilith hopes, climbing up Aimsirs leg.

You have one question for Lilith. From the ground, glancing up at her you ask. “How do you do it? It’s been five years and I feel just as heart broken as I did that day.”

Brennan’s father passed away about a year ago. His heart giving out on him. All because of Brennan’s death. You mourned him too, he had always been kind to you and he loved his grandchild. It might’ve been the only reason he held on for so long.

Lilith sighs and takes a moment to form her words. “Your relationship was young and somewhat new, barely 4 years. He was the first person you trusted. You had your whole life ahead of you. My husband and I were together for nearly 30 years. We travelled all around Navarre, had three amazing children, and we watched them grow up. I wish he was here to see what will become of Violet but,” she pauses without finishing her sentence. “My point is you were full of what ifs and places to go. It’s hard to move on from that when you keep trying to make sense of it.”

“I wish I knew I was pregnant before he died so I could’ve told him. Maybe things would’ve been different,” you confess.

“Possibly. I know Brennan would’ve loved him.” With those last words General Sorrengail flies off, leaving you and Calliss alone once more.

“No more moping. We have a job to do,” she says, urging you to get on her back.

“Thank you for being patient with me,” you tell her honestly.

Calliss is opinionated but she wants what’s best for you. She continues to feel all the pain Brennan’s death caused you. All her snide remarks are only meant to encourage you to manage your pain and move forward.

“Beware. It’s running thin today.”

thoughts?

[kjupchurch-xx]

🩷 Conflicting Feelings 🩷 Part 3

Hugh and I ended up getting take-out for lunch. We spent the last 24 hours together. Things were nice. Things were right. The last 24 hours had been spent working out kinks of what was to come next. It was spent with hours of being in each other's arms and many passionate kisses. He'd been my person for years. These things had only ever taken place in my dreams, I never imagined them becoming a reality.  I'd always wondered what his kisses were like. The thoughts made me smile as a red blush appeared on my cheeks. 

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking at me through the full length mirror while resting his head on my shoulder. "What's got you turning red?" He asked, smirking at me through the mirror. 

Our height difference was pretty silly considering I'm 5'0 and he towers me at 6'2, so imagine him bending down to actually rest his chin on my shoulder. I tilted my head looking at him through the mirror, "Nothing." I said pursing my lips together. 

He chuckled, "Are you sure, love?" He asked sweetly. 

I quickly nodded, "I'm sure." before turning to look at him, staring for a moment, "What?" He asked laughing. I shook my head, "Nothing. I just can't believe this is even happening right now." I said honestly. 

He smiled, "Well it is. And if you'll have me, I'm all yours." His gaze went down to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes once again. 

Flashback to September 5th, 2021: 

I was back home in South Carolina visiting family. I'd just finished playing an extra in a movie when my phone started ringing. It was Hugh, who was in England filming for his new movie The Son. Figuring he was just calling to ask about my filming experience, I answered. 

I could hear sniffling, "Hey, how was filming?" I asked, trying to hide the concern in my voice. 

He sighed, sniffling a bit more as he belted out, "My father died." the tremble in his voice killed me. 

I sighed, "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, babe. Is Deb on her way?" I asked, hoping she'd canceled whatever she had going on since he was in England alone. 

That simple question broke him, "I fucking rang her and she just said 'I'm so sorry babe, I'll see you when you get home. I can't leave the dogs.' Who the fuck says that?!" His voice dripping with hurt as he continued breaking. 

I closed my eyes, feeling my teeth start to grit, "Are you serious?" 

He sniffled, choking on his tears, "I just lost my fucking father. I'm in another country filming a movie I can't even focus on at this moment and that's all I get from her." 

I quickly put the phone and speaker and sent Deb a text. 

Me: Hey, I saw the news. If you guys need someone to keep the pups while you go to Australia, I don't mind keeping them. I miss Dali and Allegra!

She text me back almost immediately after I hit send.

Debbora-Lee: Thank you, honey. I appreciate it but I'm not going to be able to go. Ava has school stuff we can't miss unfortunately. 

I sighed, "I'm so sorry, babe. You're in England, right?" I asked knowingly as I began searching for flights on my phone. Someone has to be there and I guess if she refuses to be there, I'll have to go to make sure he can make it through his film and to make sure he's okay. 

He coughed again, "Yes, I'm in fucking London." 

I bit my bottom lip as I booked the first flight I saw, "Meet me at the airport at 11 pm your time." 

He sniffled, surprised, "Where are you? What do you mean?" He asked, confused. 

I sighed, "I'll be landing in London at 11." I said while grabbing my things, throwing them in my bag to haul ass to the airport. 

"No love, you don't have to do that. Don't mess up your time with your family." He said softly. 

"It's already paid for. Just pick me up at 11." I said as I ended the call. 

I'm pissed. I'm pissed she can't get off her ass to fly to be with her husband who just lost his father. I'm pissed my time with my family got ruined because of this fucked up situation, but he's my best friend and he obviously needs someone on his side. He called Deb, then called me. I'm pissed that I can't show this man what he means to me because of a marriage he's in with such a selfish person. But I'll go be the hero and save his ass because she refuses to. Time to put my platonic face on. 

11 PM, London, England: 

After a 10 hour flight, a comfortable bed is all I'm after. I booked a room at the same hotel Hugh was staying to be close by. I hadn't seen him in months. I was excited, despite the circumstance of why I came in the first place. I stepped off the escalator, the airport was practically dead at this time. Maybe 20 other people and I'm sure they all just got off the flight I was on. I quickly found the baggage claim, grabbing my things and checking my phone. 

"You really didn't have to do this." I heard a familiar voice, my favorite Australian say as he approached me, pulling me into a quick hug. 

He looked awful. His eyes were swollen from crying, his hair was a mess. He was almost unrecognizable.  

I shrugged, "You didn't have anybody else. That's what I'm here for." I smiled. "Take me to the hotel. I'm tired and ready to be away from airports and planes." I said, walking towards the doors. 

He gave me a sad smile, "Isn't this your first time out of the country?" He asked, looking at me, walking with me towards his car. 

I nodded, "It is. Finally putting the passport I've had for a year now to good use." I laughed. 

As we approached his car, he opened the door for me and grabbed my bags, placing them in the back, then coming to get in the driver's seat. "I'm so thankful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." He said, his voice slightly shaking. 

I took a deep breath, trying to contain my own emotions, "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, babe." I said with a small smile. 

He took me to a fast food place to grab a bite to take to the hotel with me. As we reached the hotel and got up to the room, he stopped holding his composure and broke. I couldn't help but pull him into my arms and stroke his back as he wept. I'd never seen Hugh actually cry and the sight was heartbreaking. Nonetheless, I'm glad I'm here so he isn't alone. We spent hours with him crying, telling me stories about his father and the kind of man he was, we rehearsed his lines for The Son until the sun came sweeping into the hotel room. 

Present Day:

"What's on your mind?" He asked, giving me a serious look. 

I looked at him, "Nothing, I was just thinking about the night I flew to London to see you." 

He chuckled, "Ah, the night that started it all."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I don't remember anything being started on my part. I remember trying to call your wife and let her have it... but you wouldn't let me." I laughed at the last part. 

He laughed, "No, I wouldn't. I told you that you were better than that and I didn't want her to ban me from seeing you." He said with a smirk. 

"Honestly though, that was the night that really did something for me. I had nothing but platonic feelings for you until you did that for me. After that weekend with you, just being there, being yourself and being there for me, helping me keep my head in the game with my film, it was hard to separate myself from developing feelings for you." He said quietly, slightly shaking his head almost as if he were in disbelief.

I kissed his cheek, "I'll bet you had no idea that I was absolutely smitten with you long before that. Which is why I flew to England. Do you think I fly across the world at the drop of a hat for anyone else?" I giggled. 

He looked at me, eyes widening a little, "What? You were not. You never showed it at all." 

I rolled my eyes again, "Um sir, you were married and I did not want to fight someone over their husband. I enjoyed our friendship and respected your marriage too much to do something stupid." 

He smirked, "No, but we did have a cuddle in London." 

I gasped, laughing, "No shit, you were an emotional mess. I wasn't going to just say 'Hey, I'm heading to the other room. See ya tomorrow, big guy.' What was I supposed to do?" I said crossing my arms. 

 He laughed, pecking my lips, wrapping his arms back around me, "Okay, point well made." 

It was starting to get late, now getting closer to 10 pm. I yawned, looking at him, "I'm sorry, but I refuse to sleep on the couch again tonight. I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. You're welcome to join me unless you want a hard sofa." 

He smiled, "I'll be there in a second, love."

I smiled sleepily, yawning again before walking towards the bedroom, "Okay." 

As I got to the bedroom, I put on a tank top and matching pajama shorts before climbing into the big king sized bed. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed at home, but it would do. About 10 minutes later, Hugh walked in interrupting the annoyingly funny reality show I was watching. 

"Miss me?" He asked cockily while taking off his jeans and t-shirt, moving the blankets to lay beside me. 

I chuckled, "No, I had Mama June and Honey Boo Boo keeping me entertained."

He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you actually watch that." He laid his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. 

I played as if I were offended, "Don't hate. They're hilarious." 

He looked at the tv, "I'm sorry it took me awhile to come in here. I was on the phone with Oscar." His voice sounded sad.

I chewed at my lip, nervous for what was to come next, as I rested my hand on his bare chest, softly caressing it. "It's okay. Is he okay?" I asked. 

He sighed, "He's fine. He's disappointed that his mum and I couldn't fix things, but he's old enough to understand that people have to do what makes them happy."  

I looked up at him, "Well, at least he understands. Does he know where you're at?..." I asked lowly. 

Hugh sat in silence. 

"Hugh... You didn't tell him you're with me, did you?..." I asked, growing worried, lifting up to look at him. 

He shook his head, "Well not at first, no. He asked where I was. I simply said LA. He asked who I was with. I didn't say. He said 'You're with her, aren't you, dad?' and you know I'm a terrible liar." 

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding in hopes he did not tell his child I was with him. Oscar and Ava adored me, but I did not need the world thinking I ripped this man out of his marriage and away from his family. 

He rubbed my cheek, "He knows you didn't do anything wrong. He's old enough to understand the issues Deb and I have. He knew his mum and I had been practically separated for years but didn't want to actually separate for their sake." 

I shook my head, "I hope you're right. I also hope he doesn't call her and tell her." I said without thinking. 

He shook his head, "He won't. He doesn't know what we're doing or what we've talked about. He knows you're always there. He probably thinks you're making sure I don't do something stupid and just being a good friend." 

I nodded, "Okay... If you say so." 

Hugh's phone lit up, a notification from Ryan Reynolds. It was a text. Opening it, it was a screen shot of his soon-to-be ex-wife, posted up with another man. I looked at Hugh, chewing my bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response. 

He looked at me, "Good for her. She deserves happiness." He said bluntly. 

I pursed my lips, "You took that better than I imagined." I chuckled. 

He smiled, holding his phone up to take a picture with me. "What are you doing?..." I asked, not ready for his response. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to post his own selfie to get back at her. 

He smirked, "I'm just taking a selfie with my best friend that will be going on Instagram with the caption 'That's what friends are for'." He exclaimed proud of himself as he forced me to smile for the camera by tickling my side. 

"I can't believe how toxic you are." I said with a chuckle watching him post the picture to his Instagram. You could clearly see he was shirtless, I'm in a tank top and we're close to one another. This was going to go over great on the internet. 

He chuckled, "I can be toxic, but in a sexy way." He reminded me. 

Author's Note:  I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this. Let me guess... You guys want a part four? 

[disneyprincemuke]

forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-pie-girl @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[wintersera]

forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader

notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭

cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink

wc 2.2k

your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.

—

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.

shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?

it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.

“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.

ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.

“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.

“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.

fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.

not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.

in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.

taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.

whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.

you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”

so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”

“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”

“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.

“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.

it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.

you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.

in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.

she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.

she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.

“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.

if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.

like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.

every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.

as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.

“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.

pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.

her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.

returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.

your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.

right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.

“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.

“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.

finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.

after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.

“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”

aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.

“yeah.. forever”

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚁𝚈

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘

description: Cherry and Kyra have been together six months now, and y/n is nervous but she thinks its time for Kyra to move in with her.

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kyra cooney-cross x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: just plain cuteness, kisses, chaotic arsenal and kyra, flufffff and a few swear words

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y/n just posted on her story

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private message to beffy

y/n: beffy - I'm too nervous - I can't do it

beffy: Cherry - you'll be fine - she'll say yes.

y/n: But like, we've only been dating since September and now it's May - and the fans are only just catching on now!

beffy: STAY CALM

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHHH

beffy: shit

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"You okay baby?" Kyra's question breaks y/n out of her text conversation and makes her jump.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just messaging Beth." y/n smiles, switching her phone off rather quickly as she opens her arms, Kyra grinning as she pushes across the sofa and into y/n's warm embrace.

"You sure?" Kyra asks and y/n nods, chuckling as Kyra presses a few kisses against her cheek.

"Yeah sure, baby." y/n promises and Kyra hums slightly, face falling slightly as they continued to watch their show. "You staying tonight?" y/n asks and Kyra nods.

"Yes please, don't wanna go back home." Kyra explains and y/n chuckles slightly.

"All that rent you're throwing away." She jokes and Kyra rolls her eyes.

"You sound just like Steph!" Kyra snorts and y/n giggles as Kyra digs her finger tips into y/n's side, forcing bright laughs out of her mouth as she tries to squirm away.

"No! Please!" y/n begs as she continues to laugh and scramble away from Kyra's still tickling hands.

Kyra lets out a cackle as she launches over y/n who sprints away, but Kyra is close behind, the two carefully running around y/n's apartment - giggles echoing the rooms as they did.

"Gotcha!" Kyra cheers, tackling y/n as if they were on the rugby pitch. The two bouncing as they landed on y/n's sofa once more.

"You got me, you got me." y/n laughs as the two let out panting breaths to try and catch their breath.

Just as the two sit there, relishing in each other's warmth and catching their breath, there is the faint buzz of a vibrating phone.

Kyra leans over picking up y/n's phone, just as the caller hangs up, clearly thinking they're not getting hold of y/n as Kyra winces.

"Uh oh." Kyra says.

"What Uh Oh, why Uh Oh?" y/n asks sitting up worriedly, causing Kyra to yelp as she falls backward onto the sofa, y/n pulling her back up as she passes her phone.

goonerno.1: YOU ARE GOING TO WHAT?

goonerno.1: YOU PICK UP RIGHT NOW

goonerno.1: YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME?

"Uh oh." y/n says before she kisses Kyra and jumps up. "Pray for me." She says and the Australian bows her head and holds her hands into a praying position.

"Amen." Kyra nods and y/n gulps and runs into her room, dialling Leah's number who picks up in a lightening flash.

"You didn't even tell me?" Leah asks annoyed as soon as she picks up.

"Because I knew you wouldn't like it!" y/n denies.

"I would if I had been told." Leah defends and y/n scoffs. "Honestly, I would." Leah says, her voice softer now.

"Really?" y/n asks with a sigh.

"I just, don't you think it's a bit soon?" Leah asks and y/n groans. "Okay, Okay, sorry. Habit." Leah promises and y/n can't help but chuckle.

"It's just, she's here most of the time anyway, we don't really like being apart - that place is just becoming a money pit." y/n explains.

y/n was hoping to ask Kyra to move in, that was what all this was about - y/n purely just panicking as she tried to work up the courage to ask her girlfriend to move in.

"Have you asked her?" Leah asks and y/n winces.

"I'm to scared too." y/n admits. "And Beth is trying to help but she can't really and I'm guessing that is who told you." she continues.

"Yeah Cherry, it is." Leah chuckles. "You'll be fine kid. "I don't like it, but she won't say no. She is very happy with you." Leah promises.

"And I'm happy with her." y/n nods. "Okay, I can do it." y/n says.

"Yeah you can, go get her kid." Leah says before hanging up. y/n repeating to herself that she could do it.

And she left the room and wandered into the living room on shaky legs and a steady heart and smiled.

She didn't do it.

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y/n sighed as she pushed the gym door open, a whirl of blonde instantly grabbing her as Leah dragged her back out of the room and into an empty physio room.

"Did you do it?" Leah asks almost worriedly and y/n groans.

"I chickened out." y/n whines and Leah snorts. y/n glares at Leah who winces and mouths an apology. "Oh, what do I do Lee?" y/n sighs and Leah chuckles.

"Oh Cherry." Leah chuckles, bringing the girl in for a hug. "You need to calm down, she is going to say yes, she loves being with you and you two work well together." Leah promises.

"Hurt to say that, didn't it?" y/n asks and Leah nods.

"Oh terribly." Leah agrees, pretending to gag which makes y/n huff. "Look, if you can't do it normally, I'll make you do it." Leah warns y/n.

"How?" y/n scoffs and Leah grins evilly.

"I'll tell Katie." She warns and y/n stops in her tracks, letting out a panicked shriek.

"Please don't." y/n begs.

"Then ask her." Leah says and y/n huffs, narrowing her eyes.

"Fine, I'll ask her at the end of training." y/n promises Leah.

And at the end of training she did not.

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cherry is a coward

goonerno.1 added you to a group chat

goonerno.1 added beffy to the chat

goonerno.1 added thegoat to the chat

goonerno.1 added mccard to the chat

goonerno.1: RIGHT

y/n: Leah please, choose peace.

goonerno.1: Little Cherry, is too scared to ask Kyra to move in.

mccard: SHE WHAT!

mccard: WHY HAS NO ONE BLOODY TOLD ME?!

mccard: I deserved to know ya idiots.

y/n: I'm sorry Katie! But bottom line is I CAN'T DO IT

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

goonerno.1: cherry

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

goonerno.1: cherry

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

beffy: cherry

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

y/n: i'm done now.

mccard: Kid take a breath and calm down. What are you two doing right now?

y/n: about to eat din dins

y/n sent a photo

y/n: look how nice!

thegoat: ADHD

y/n: Vivvvvv not right now please :) xx

y/n: Okay, I'm going to ask her.

gonnerno.1: You can do it!

beffy: Come on Cheery!

thegoat: Stay calm! x

mccard: come on our girl ya can do it!

y/n: AGHHHHHHHHH-

goonerno.1: This girl I swear...

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"Are you okay?" Kyra asks before y/n could even breathe in her direction.

"Yeah why?" y/n asks as she hands Kyra her plate of food, the two moving to sit at the table to eat their dinner.

"It's just you've been a little anxious it feels lately." Kyra admits and y/n lets out a sigh. "What's up chicky?" Kyra asks and y/n bites down at her tongue.

"Look, I know we've been together for like six months now. And I really like being with you. And you like being with me." y/n begins.

Kyra pauses, watching as y/n stared at her hands as she rambled her explanation of her actions recently, Kyra couldn't help but smile softly.

"And like you're here a lot. And I'm closer to the stadium." y/n continues. "OH and training." She adds.

"Baby, what are you saying?" Kyra asks.

"Wouldyouliketolikemovelikein with me?" y/n asks, smashing a number of words together as she stutters the question out.

"What?" Kyra asks and y/n sucks in a breath.

"You. Move in. With me?" y/n asks, she shrugs slightly, not as many words as she meant but it will do.

"You mean it?" Kyra asks in shock, mouth wide open. "You're not joshing me?" She asks.

"Who says joshing me anymore?" y/n asks her before Kyra blinks, mouth still wide open. "Oh! Yes! Of course I mean it!" y/n promises her and Kyra lets out a small gasp.

"Oh my god." Kyra whispers, standing up and y/n does the same, worried she had moved too quick.

"If this is all too quick, just say, but like..." y/n begins.

"Oh shut up!" Kyra scoffs before pulling y/n into a kiss, the two's lips meeting with wide smiles as they wrapped themselves in each other.

"So, yes?" y/n asks as she briefly pulls away.

"YES!" Kyra yells, before pulling her back in for another kiss.

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cherry is a coward

y/n: FUCK YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

goonerno.1: She said yes?

y/n: yep!

mccard: Ayyyy well done!

beffy: Go on Cherry! Knew you could do it!

thegoat: well done kid! x

y/n: so, who wants to help us move Kyra's stuff?

mccard has left the chat

goonerno.1 has left the chat

beffy has left the chat

thegoat has left the chat

y/n: fuckers.

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y/n just posted on her story x3

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END

A very much requested and happy to be written Cherry Part Two

lotta love xx

[signedaiko]

Hi do you mind if I please request a oneshot where tfp Wheeljack thinks that the human reader is uptight and just no fun, but that's only because she goes adult mode around the kids especially in dangerous situations, but she's actually a total nerd and very chaotic. And he develops a crush on her.

Seasons Changing

Wheeljack X Reader [Prime]

In which Wheeljack finds you're just like every other strict bot, until he gets you alone.

Song - September by Sparky Deathcap

Reader is: Female | Cybertronian | Autobot. Romantic.

Hidden beneath the crumbling red rocks of Jasper, Nevada, a bot that'd spent the last few decades racing across space as the war came to a dwindling and depressing close found himself bunkered in with a conglomerate of Autobots. 

Some he knew well, some he'd never heard of. 

"Wheeljack! Watch where you're stepping!" Once again, you'd turned from your datapad that had your servos practically dented into it from many months of use just to nag at him. 

Another Autobot gone soft; all you did now was read Earth fiction, old Cybertronian articles, and tell him off since he'd landed here. 

"Yeah, yeah, the kids aren't stupid. They can dodge, too." He groaned under his breath before sitting down away from the kids, resulting in a whine from Miko, who'd been trying to teach him to play some rock on her new guitar. 

"Kids shouldn't be dodging anything; they're kids." You corrected him before setting your datapad down in between the two of you to get up. 

Wheeljack glanced down to catch a glimpse of whatever you were reading, finding some pre-war article on quantum engine engineering. He never got how someone so annoying could be interested in cool things. 

Ushering the humans back onto their elevated space so they wouldn't be in danger of moving mechs, you took the chance to apologize to Miko for interrupting her lessons. 

Normally Wheeljack would be out for a mission, but the boss insisted he stay back with you in case you were needed elsewhere. 

Ratchet was also busy working on one of their larger projects: expanding the range of the ground bridge. It meant they needed someone to distract the kids and watch them as much as possible, and so the two of you were left alone. 

Well, as alone as you can be with a bunch of teens and Ratchet. 

"Hey! You and Wheeljack still at base?" Arcee's voice broke in through static, likely interference from the base, lighting up your comms. 

"We are. Need something?" You pressed a servo to the side of your helm to respond, standing up to alert Ratchet you may need to use the groundbridge. 

"We found some locations worth investigating. Our team is splitting into two, but we need you and Wheeljack at the third. Prepare for anything." Your comm beeped, informing you of some coordinates, just as she hung up. Somewhere in the snowy mountains of Northwest Territories, Canada. 

"Looks like we're needed elsewhere, Wheeljack. Let's get going." You turned to wave him over, which resulted in him getting up with a groan. You couldn't think of the last time you saw him do anything but frown. 

With a few digits punched into the machine and Ratchet calculating the rest, the green and purple swirls of the ground bridge ignited into a vortex, which you led the way through. 

Your temperature indicator quickly dropped by the double digits, from 35C to -20C in a matter of a few minutes. As cold as you remembered space being, you'd been subjected to such a warm environment for so long that it took a while to adjust. 

Wheeljack, on the other hand, had only been in Jasper so long and immediately pushed past you into the several feet of snow, nothing but tall pines and thick brush surrounding the two of you. Any trees had their branches thick with ice and snow, making them look as pure white as the rest of the landscape. 

It was so quiet you could hear your own spark pulse. 

"There should be a strong energon signal somewhere around here. We're looking for some kind of mine." Wheeljack had already pulled out the signal detector while you slowly warmed your engines up, hot steam escaping your mouth in an exhale. 

"Yeah, I'm picking up a few right now. Looks like they'd even defend a place as desolate as this." Wheeljack turned the reader off so no one would pick up on its signal either. 

If there was defence, the longer you were out here, the longer they'd have to notice your trace energies. 

"What are we waiting for? Let's break in!" Much to Wheeljack's surprise, you ran ahead of him, sword in hand, as you sliced through branches to clear a path. 

"Whoa! Wait up! What are you doing?" Wheeljack yelled out after you as you charged ahead in the direction of the signals, watching as you broke into a con-made clearing where two Vehicons guarded the entrance to a dugout cave. 

In a moment, you were on top of one with your sword, plunging it into their chassis. 

Wheeljack had no choice but to engage as the other one aimed in your direction, slicing its gun in half, which resulted in the explosion blowing its arm apart. You were already off the Vehicon and running into the cave, which forced him to kick the vehicon he was attacking down and slice its helm off in one swift sweep. 

His mask engaged, covering his mouth as he chased you into the cave, muttering under his breath. Just a moment ago you were as calm as ever, and now you were running ahead of him with no regard for the dangers.

This was when Wheeljack didn't do the buddy system; bots are just too complicated. 

When he caught up to you, you were in the main chasm of the dugout hole, surrounded by stashes of energon, though they varied in colour from mostly green to blue. 

More vehicons, which appeared to be working, turned to the two of you, and before he could react, you were already running at the two closest to you. 

The wrecker had worked with many before, but not many that'd throw themselves into a fight as casually as you did. Even as he bashed two vehicons helms together while making a sword swallowing act out of the third, his optics kept glancing your way. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd say you were a wrecker at some point, too. 

With your combined efforts, you were able to pile the vehicons into a corner and tie them together with some chains, left to the cave on your own. 

"Arcee, we're all wrapped up here. What do we do?" 

It took a couple of minutes before you got a reply, which Wheeljack spent looting the corpses for anything good. 

"Jeez, already? You two comm Ratchet and get as much energon back to base as you can; we'll see you there in a bit." 

Looking to Wheeljack, you pointed to the blue crates of energon, which he offered a thumbs up to. With his mask retracted, you could see his frown was a lot closer to a smile, which was the first of its kind. 

You were able to contact Ratchet, who opened up a ground bridge for the two of you, and Wheeljack got to lugging through crates while you took to collapsing in the cave entrance. 

You wouldn't want humans to find any evidence of this or for the wildlife to interact with the toxic substances in the crates. 

As you two grabbed the last few crates, Wheeljack stopped you before you went back to base for good. 

"Hey, what was up with all of that?" He gestured with his helm back to the pile of vehicons, to which you shrugged. 

"I mean, why act out like that? Aren't you supposed to be Miss-Don't-Do-That or Miss-Wheeljack-Stop-Screwing-Around?" You took a moment to consider what he was referencing before laughing in realization. 

"Oh god, that's right! You've only seen me at base!" He only stared at you with narrow optics, which eventually softened; he'd come to like that laugh. 

"No, Wheeljack, this is me. I just really want the kid to know they're safe. Can you imagine how scared they are, surrounded by a big wad of sentient metal as a small, fragile organism?" 

Thinking about Miko, Raf, and Jack had you worrying again, and you pushed forward to the portal. 

"If you want to know more, you'll have to stop begging to go on missions alone." You disappeared into the swirling lights, leaving Wheeljack on his own in the cave. 

"Yeah, right." The mech mumbled under his breath. He could take this crate of energon, get on his ship, and leave anytime he wanted; no femme was going to change that. 

Yet, he found himself chasing you through the portal, without a second thought.

Author's Note - I tried so hard on this you don't even want to know! I hope its what you were looking for <3

Words - 1,405

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - The Vet: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @Hangmanscoming @1-fuzzy-squirrels @nerdypinupcrystal

Prequel to upcoming September piece Broken - Travis Wheatley

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

Rip’s at the Foreman’s House when he hears the gunshots echo over the pasture in the darkness. He’s just uncorked that bottle of that red you like from the winery in town because it’s been over a year since you stole this old cowboy’s heart and he wants to do something special to mark the occasion.

“I’m on my way.” You had promised him only a few minutes earlier when you’d called him. “I just need to check in Artemis.”

Gina’s horse had injured it’s leg during a barrel racing exercise a week ago and you’d been treating her since. Her cottage is less than a mile down the lane from Rip’s residence so he knows it won’t take long for you to arrive.

The instant he hears the two gunshots, something twists in his chest because they’re close, too fucking close. Both his home and Gina’s are on the Dutton’s land so he knows no one would dare go hunting in these fields. He tucks his own gun into the waistband of his jeans before he snatches up the keys to the truck and hurtles out the door.

Gina’s driveway is unusually busy when he pulls up outside her residence. There’s a black SUV he doesn’t recognise parked alongside the stables and your pickup blocks his path, the engine still running, the driver’s door thrown open.

Already he can hear the sounds of scuffle coming from the stable, shadows flicker against the warm illumination as a man curses and wood creaks.

“Touch that fucking horse and I will fucking kill you.” He hears you spit as he swings into the stables, his own gun drawn.

The scene before him is far from the one he expected.

Teal Beck is sagged against the door of Artemis’s stall, cradling his right arm close to his chest as blood jets from his badly broken nose. Dislocated shoulder, Rip assumes as Artemis paces her stall, tossing her head and grinding her teeth.

You’re standing with a Glock clasped in both your hands, finger on the trigger, weapon trained on Beck. There isn’t a single waver in you, your feet are spread apart, shoulders aligned just like they taught you when you signed up for a career in the Army as a miliary veterinarian. You’d done three tours before you resigned your commission and returned to Montana to take over your daddy’s practice.

“He was coming in here to kill the horse.” You tell Rip with a tone that could freeze the rivers of hell.

Of course, you’d go this crazy over a fucking horse. You leave and breathe for the animals under your care, every charge takes a tiny piece of your heart and you’d protect them with your life.

“You need to check on Gina.” You tell him, inclining your head slightly as you keep your eyes Teal. “Where there’s one Beck brother…”

There’s usually another.

Malcolm Beck’s been making his displeasure about his ex-wife known ever since that rodeo journalist had published the article about her come back. They’d all thought she was down and out after being kicked to the curb by him but now she’s back on the circuit, winning for the Yellowstone. She’s been spotted in the company of the rodeo king himself, Travis Wheatley.

It must have pushed every single one of that SOB’s buttons to see she was succeeding without him.

“Go.” You say again, this time more urgently. “I can take care of Teal, but Gina needs help.”

Rip’s already in motion, rushing from the stable as you keep the gun fixed on younger Beck brother.

“You better fucking hope he hasn’t laid a hand on her.” You say to Teal, your finger tightening on the trigger. “Otherwise you won’t live to see another sunrise.”

Teal smiles at you through bloody teeth.

“If that girl ain’t dead yet, she’s gonna wish she was by the time my brother’s finished with her.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 2

Benny Cross X Female Reader A/n: part 1 is here! Word Count: 2014 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup

Fifteen months. That was all it took for you to find Benny, love him, and lose him. The easy version of your story went like this: it was Kathy Bauer’s fault. Simple as pie, like your mama used to say. 

The truth was a lot different. The truth was messy and it hurt a hell of a lot more. Because the truth was that you hadn’t lost Benny at all. To lose something, you have to have it in the first place. And when you were being really honest with yourself, you knew that you never had Benny Cross. You had as much of a claim to him as a kite does to the wind. That was to say, none at all. 

You didn’t like the truth. But, you weren’t the kind of girl who could live a lie either. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran away. Kathy Bauer’s first night in the Vandals bar was early November, Benny broke it off with you in early December. You spent Christmas drunk and stoned. And by New Years, you were gone. 

You thought putting Chicago - and Benny - in the rearview mirror would help. You’d banked on it helping. Running was your only plan. There wasn’t any other choice, really. Sure, some of the Vandals had pitched you on sticking around, club president Johnny among them. Your waitressing pal Sheila had asked you to move in with her, given that you were now two months’ behind on rent without Benny’s side-hustle cash around to help pay the bills. Hell, Cal had even offered you a soft place to land on the left side of his queen sized mattress. 

None of those offers had tempted you for even an instant. So, while the rest of America was counting down the final seconds of 1965 from their couches, you were sitting on the back of your fully customized Sportster, driving like a bat out of hell on the back roads leading west out of Chicago. Your only destination was the fuck out of here. 

It took you fifteen months to figure out what love was and to lose it again. You weren’t sure how long it was going to take you to do something approximating move on, but you figured it would be a lot longer than fifteen months. And you were right.

***********************

Your phone rang at 3:13am in the morning on September 19th, 1969. The first thing you thought was that your daddy must have finally died. Sonofabitch had been fighting a chainsmoker’s strain of lung cancer for almost six months now, and damn had it been a hard fight. Your mama had actually begged you not to come home and see him. Nothin’ you can do here, baby she said in her soft, sad voice each time you called and asked if you should come home. Your daddy, for his part, couldn’t talk anymore, on account of the laryngectomy the doctors gave him a few weeks prior. He’d declined one of those robotic voice boxes. Figured he’d said all he needed to at this point. Nobody wanted to hear the ramblings of an old biker on death’s door at this point. Especially himself.

But it wasn’t your mama’s voice on the other end. It was Johnny Davis.

“Hey, kid.” Not a question, not a hey, how are ya. It had been almost four years since the last time you’d talked to Johnny. Four years since you’d last seen a Vandals cutte. You wished you could say it had been that long since you’d thought about the club, but that would be a damn lie. Your mind drifted back to a certain handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed biker almost every day. 

It took you a minute to place the voice on the other end. It was familiar in the way a dream is familiar, but between the fog of leftover whiskey, a deep sleep, and buried memories, it didn’t come to you quickly.

“Who’s this?” you asked, wiping the tired out of your eyes.

“Oh, uh, well. It’s Johnny.” 

There it was.

“Johnny? Johnny Davis?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me, kid. Listen. How you been?”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, sad chuckle. The easy answer to that question was oh, I been alright Johnny, you? But the truth was something more like, well Johnny, let’s see, since I last saw you in Chicago I’ve been on the road pretty much constantly for four years, running for so long I can’t tell if I’m running to or away from something, much less what that thing is. I’ve picked up about a dozen bad habits, like drinking too much and riding too fast and going home with the first guy who’ll buy me a brew at a bar. Oh, and by the way, my daddy’s dying. 

But Johnny didn’t deserve your bitterness. Especially not at 3:14 in the morning. 

“You know me, Johnny, I’ve been doin’ just fine. Why’re you callin’ so early?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. An image of Johnny, taking a deep drag on one of those Pall Malls he loved to smoke, came to you in the darkness. In the quiet of his reply, you heard a dense grief. You braced yourself for what you were sure was bad news and flicked on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. Next to you, the latest biker boy of the week stirred grumpily and waved at you to turn the light off. You ignored him, throwing off the covers and dangling your feet over the side of your mattress.

“Well, kid. It’s Brucie.”

Brucie. It took the air out of your lungs. You could have named a half-dozen Vandals you’d expect to kick the bucket before Brucie. Zipco, Wahoo, Corky. Hell, even Johnny himself. And Benny, of course. You couldn’t help but feel the knot in your chest relax an inch to know that Johnny wasn’t calling to tell you that it was Benny. But damnitall, Brucie? Careful, pragmatic, thoughtful Brucie? What the fuck was Gail gonna do?

“Brucie? What the fuck happened?”

Another jagged inhale on the other end. Johnny was crying, you realized. It gutted you.

“Oh, you know. 1967 Pontiac came outta nowhere, you know, just caught him in a bad way. It’s always the ones you don’t see comin’, y’know? Fuckin’ Pontiac.”

“Jesus, Johnny. Brucie? Shit.”

You lit a cigarette of your own as you let your mind wander back to your time in Chicago. Brucie was solid, Johnny’s right-hand man and a kind, gentle sorta guy. You’d liked him instantly, and Gail too. Real good folk. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been hard, y’know, I mean, club is real beat up over it.”

“Fuck, Johnny, I don’t even know whatta say. I’m so sorry.”

You and Johnny took matching drags and tried to swipe away your tears. The guy in your bed next to you rolled over and fixed you with a bleary-eyed glare. You couldn’t remember his name - Steve, maybe. You covered the receiver with your hand, told  him to get the fuck out, and drank down the last swallow of whiskey in the only upright glass on your nightstand.

“Yeah, well, I ‘preciate that, kid, I really do. Listen, we’re havin’ a get together for Brucie. Next weekend. Entire club, all charters gonna be there. Invited a few others, too. Ones that knew Brucie. I know he’d want you there.”

Of all the things Johnny had said to you tonight, this was the one that stole the air from your lungs. Go back to Chicago, to the Vandals? You weren’t sure how you’d do that. Or if you physically could. 

“Aw, shit Johnny. I dunno…”

“I know you got history here,” Johnny interrupted quickly. “I know you got… I know you got a lot you’re tryin’ not to come back to. I get it.” 

Lots of people might have tried to tell you they understood how you felt. You’d opened up about Benny to a few people since you’d left Chicago. Most people you met on the road were a little bit broken, like you. They were running, just like you, and they weren’t strangers to heartbreak and dead-endings and being fucked over. But, no matter how many times you tried to tell your story, you just never felt like you got it right. So nobody really understood it, because you weren’t sure you did. But Johnny? Johnny didn’t need to hear you tell it. He’d watched it happen. Maybe he really did get it.

Still, was that enough for you to go back? Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. Behind you, maybe-Steve was dragging himself out of bed, untangling his clothes from yours, and doing a shitty job of trying to stay quiet. 

“You think about it, aight? But I know you’ll come. For Brucie.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Johnny was right. ‘Course you’d go back for Brucie. 

“Aight well, I’ll let ya go then. Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“Johnny, wait.” 

He hesitated. “Yeah, kid?”

“How’d you get my number?” 

There were about a million questions you wanted to ask Johnny, although you knew yourself enough at this point to know that you wouldn’t want the answers. So you asked the safest one you could think of.

He chuckled softly. “I keep an eye on my friends,” he replied cryptically before he said goodnight again, and the line went dead. You wished you knew what that meant, although just knowing that there was someone out there in the darkness who cared for you enough to go to the trouble of checking in with whatever backwater charters you shacked up with (because realistically that was the only way Johnny would ever be able to keep up with you) made your heart warm. 

“Who the fuck was that?” demanded maybe-Steve. He was halfway out the door of the dingy room you’d rented in this roadside motel, hoping you might still ask him to stay. 

“Old friend,” you said brusquely as you stood up and threw an old tshirt over your bare chest, heading for the door behind him. “Time for you to hit the road,” you told him by way of invitation, pointing towards his bike in the parking lot. 

“It’s fuckin’ 3:30 in the mornin’, you sure I can’t just sleep it off here?” 

“Nah, fuck that. Get lost.” 

He grimaced and spat thickly on the ground. For an instant you wondered if he was going to give you trouble, but he just shook his head in disgust and left you there to curl up on the rickety plastic chair outside your motel room with plans to chain-smoke until sunrise. You watched him go, his tail light streaking across the long, dark, flat expanse of Iowa farmland until it melted with blackness around it. Your mind was fluttering with all kinds of memories and thoughts that Johnny’s voice had stirred up. Rather than try and fight it, you let yourself sink beneath the surface and zone out, wading through a chapter of your life that you’d deluded yourself into believing was over. The sun had climbed up over the horizon by the time you came back to yourself with a bleak glance around the ramshackle motel. Your Sportster was gleaming like a lighthouse over in the corner of the lot under the only tree around for miles, a huge black walnut that seemed to be holding up its branches and asking the sky to sweep it up and take it away from here. Exactly how you felt. 

Unable to fight against yourself anymore, you splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair up, shoved your belongings into the leather saddlebags you’d been living out of for the last four years, and got on the back of your Sportster. As soon as you kickstarted your bike, you knew where you were going. Straight back to Chicago, back to the Vandals, to Benny. Straight back home.

read part 3 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!