#Adjustable feeding schedule.

[rubyekinc]

https://bit.ly/3HN6gpO Keep your pet well-fed and happy with our convenient pet food dispenser! Whether you're out running errands or away for the weekend, our dispenser ensures that your furry friend always has access to fresh food. With its large capacity and gravity-fed design, refills are quick and easy, and there's no need for a programmable timer. Simply fill the dispenser and let it do the work for you. Get our pet food dispenser today and make feeding your pet a breeze!

[silvershayde]

Sometimes it really feels like me my sister and my mum are the only ones who actually take care of my cat

[coffee-mage-sans-caffeine]

My wife's service dog in training, Matilda, is trained to be super annoying at specific times of day. This is because my wife's executive dysfunction does not allow her to 'unfreeze' and therefore she gets 'stuck' in places/doing things long after she needs to move on to another task, room, etc. This isn't some arbitrary 'you should only play video games so long' type of thing. It's 'If unattended, my wife will not eat or sleep because moving from one thing to another is very hard'. Eating and sleeping are necessary things for survival, so moving to these tasks is necessary for survival. Matilda has therefore been taught things like 'ten pm is bedtime'. In order to help Matilda with this, her feeding schedule is on a pretty tight timeline as well--this way her internal body cues are lined up with the schedule of the day. For example, Matilda is fed between 8 and 830 pm (usually at about 810 pm, as it works out). She poops at 830 pm after dinner and she will throw a WHOLE FIT if she is not let out at this time. Daylight Savings has Happened to Matilda. She's only just a year old, so she does not remember Daylight Savings last year (she was two weeks old, roughly) and she does not remember the spring time change, either, as she was a fairly young puppy at that time and therefore not trained to a schedule like this. She is BEREFT. We're making her wait an hour for dinner. We're making her wait an hour for bedtime. She knows she needs to go out at 830, but it is not time for her to poop yet, which is BAFFLING. This poor dog. I'm sure she'll adjust in a week or two, but poor Matilda. We need to outlaw Daylight Savings. For Matilda.

[creepyscritches]

I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.

Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.

What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is

1) intricately interwoven with the federal government

2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)

3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business

4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)

The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.

Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).

The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.

Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.

I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.

I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.

The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.

[cherry-hulu]

— soft bf!mingyu headcanons

warnings: just pure soft and fluff 🖤

BF!MINGYU despite having a buff and muscular build is actually the softest and warmest teddy bear there is.

BF!MINGYU who craddles your head in his arms, gently laying it on his shoulder when he notices you getting sleepy.

BF!MINGYU who always opens your drinks for you no matter the situation; in the middle of a conversation with someone he'd take the bottle from you and open it for you without breaking talk with his friends.

BF!MINGYU who knows your favourite drink is in a juice box so he always makes sures to open it for you and hold the straw for you when you take a sip from it.

BF!MINGYU who always lets you have the first taste of his cooking no matter what. spoon feeding you with his food, patiently waiting for your reaction while you chew on it.

BF!MINGYU who loves serving you breakfast in bed especially after those nights. he'd wake up early and cook for you even with his busy schedule just to make sure you eat.

BF!MINGYU who loves showering you in kisses and giving you back-hugs, loving the way his build can swallow your whole body.

BF!MINGYU who loves spoiling you, always buying you a souvenir from every place he visits.

BF!MINGYU who always sends pictures and videos to you as updates because sometimes he'd be too busy to type.

BF!MINGYU who sends you a voice message telling you about his day when he's in a different country for you to listen when you wake up, not letting the time difference hinder your communication.

BF!MINGYU who exchanges camcorders with you when he's on tour for you two to watch each others videos like a movie when he gets home. cuddling in the couch, blankets hugging the two of you, with your favourite foods in hand.

BF!MINGYU who never hesitates to carry you in his arms whenever your mood sombers or you fall asleep, always giving you a kiss on your forehead.

BF!MINGYU who sits you down on his lap, essentially trapping you in, whenever you two have a problem or after an argument, not letting you go until you're both feeling okay.

BF!MINGYU who's always so protective of you. making you keep your location on when you go out, sending him pictures of the licence plate of the cars you get in, shielding you and putting you behind his back when he sees you're uncomfortable with someone.

BF!MINGYU who's always so attentive to you. watching your every step when your walking on the ledge of something with a tight grip on your wrist, adjusting things to your liking, remembering everything of your favourites and buying them whenever you feel sad, or mentioning the things you love to brighten up your mood.

BF!MINGYU who loves watching you talk or watch things you love. admiring the way your smile reach your twinkling eyes, the change in the tone of your voice when you're excited, or even the little happy dances that you do.

BF!MINGYU who finds solace with you. in amidst the chaos and the screams, every ache, and problem, they all disappear at the mere presence of you.

BF!MINGYU who never thought love could feel this way until he'd met you. who's more than assured that true love exists, because you do.

BF!MINGYU who has everyone's eyes on him, but his eyes only focusing on you. never once leaving since the day it met yours.

[starboye]

starring: simon "ghost" riley x male reader

request: ghost with a femboy reader <33 can be both nsfw or sfw which ever one you r comfortable with!!! :33

warnings: some smut, mentions of male pregnancy + breeding, sexual mentions, femboy!reader, mentions of drinking

SFW-

simon was shocked to say the least when he first layed eyes on you at a farmers market, seeing you dressed in a cute pink skirt as a full face of makeup as you shopped for fruits and veggies.

approaching you slowly to really get a good look at you and confirm if he was seeing things or not (this is the first ever time he's seen a guy dressed like you) and with further investigating following you around the store he realized you were in fact a guy.

he waited patiently till you dropped something to swoop in and helping you pick up your dropped items, using the situation as an opportunity to spike up a conversation on the kinds of apples you were getting and somehow leading to you giving him your number.

he was nervous to actually call you but with some help from the team after showing the a picture of you (that of which you still don't know how he snapped the picture) they were urging him to not let the "fine gentleman go to waste" in the words of captain price and ghost nervously called you.

he was definitely surprised when you answered his call, he had asked you on a date and you somewhat eagerly accepted the mans request, simon silently cheering when he hung up the phone.

and oh. my. god. when he saw you enter the restaurant in the most beautiful suit and all dazzled with your little accessories with the most fine make up he's ever seen he was adjusting his pants the whole night and always excusing himself to the bathroom.

once the date was over he was itching to see you again, not being able to get you off his mind during mission debriefs or even the mission itself, only thinking of your handsome face the whole time.

once you guys finally scheduled your second date he was happy as a clam at high water, smiling the whole way to the park where you planned to meet just for him to get there to see you in a pretty slutty skirt and a crop top, it's like you wanted the man to keel over and die right there.

but he managed to hold himself together the whole date (although he can't deny that he didn't sneak a few peaks at your ass when you'd bend over to smell the flowers and feed the ducks at the lake and also during that date you both finally agreed to now be dating one another.

NSFW-

when he finally got you in his bed it was one night when you were a little drunk after a night out with the team and you were all but throwing yourself at the man, basically begging the man to fuck you with how you caressed his thigh under the table and hiked up your skirt when you 'drop' something on accident.

but simon wasn't complaining when he had been imagining fucking you forever now but the only thing that held his dick at night when he was hard was his own fist and the though of your mouth.

he had made you a moaning, babbling, and incoherent mess by the end of the night after fucking load after load out of you and plowing load after load into your tight hole.

with how good you looked and the way you dressed he had been imagining putting you in all sorts of positions to take his cock and when he finally got the chance he didn't disappoint, putting you in sorts of positions like mating press, missionary, and full nelson, thoroughly impressed by how well you took him in every position.

during it all simon had to keep reminding himself that you can't get pregnant and walk around base all swell with his kids in your tummy but he'd be damned if he didn't try to at least give you a stomach full of his cum.

next day you woke up sore, aching, and barely remembering where you were but with the sight of simon tightly holding you in his arms with that cute but smug smile on his face you nuzzled back into him, maybe even rolling your leaking ass on his crotch just to start a little something.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors au Simon Riley/female reader

The hallway creaks under his feet. 

The floorboards talk to him, tell him stories, narrating the tread worn in the carpet, countless steps tracked up and down, past his door at all hours of the day and night. 

Past yours. 

He notices your light is on when he gets in, warm yellow glow spilling out from your back door, illuminating your hunched figure perched on your little metal chair, glow from an e-reader spilling across your face. A mix of the light from your living room, the shimmer of the moon, and the white, soft incandescence of your book bathes you in a gleam of angelic color, celestial reflection of what he believes may already be half true.

Sweet angel. 

“Up late?” He asks over the balcony divider, and you squint at him, eyes adjusting in the pale darkness. 

“Emma’s been on a weird schedule. Couldn’t go back to sleep after I put her back down an hour ago.” His hands slide into his pockets, a natural reflex, and he nods, the movement expected against the emptiness that greets his fingers. He wants a cigarette. Craves it, but intentionally left them inside. 

He doesn’t think you like it, the smoking. And for some unsettling reason, he cares what you think. 

The monitor crackles alive with the sound of hoarse cry, high pitch and sharp, and you excuse yourself, slipping inside to answer Emmaline’s distraught wails. 

He leans against his side of the railing, mind wandering to his schedule for tomorrow, an on base meeting that’s sure to be irritating, followed by a training evaluation that he’s been putting off for far too long. 

The monitor’s lights flare, picking up noise, and his mind screams to a halt when the speaker starts to vibrate with your voice. 

“Hey, little sweet. Shhh, shhh, I know. You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” You hum something, a melody of some kind that he can’t place, and Emma makes soft little noises, prompting you to talk to her every time they start to tick upwards into a cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mum’s here. I’m right here.” He stands, transfixed, frozen, listening, eavesdropping, to every little sound, hanging on every word like you're feeding him crumbs of your soft, soothing voice and Emmaline’s sleepy, grumpy coos. 

When you reappear back on the balcony ten minutes later, it’s with the baby against your chest, her chubby little arms and legs tucked into a blanket, wrapped up like burrito, sweet little face peeking over the fleece lining. “Someone,” you rub her back, “is not keen on going back to sleep.” She’s wide eyed, wide awake, and you step closer to his side, his hand automatically going out to rub a thumb against her cheek. 

“What’s wrong, baby girl, not goin’ let mum get any rest tonight?” You smile softly, gaze sweet and gentle when it bounces between his face and hers. 

“Afraid not.” You lean forward, brushing your lips against the crown her head. “She’s pretty unhappy unless she’s being held, lately.” He feels for you, can see how tough it must be, how tired you are, and a fire fueled yearning enflames throughout him, desire and desperation battling against his self-control, his logical mind.

You sigh, swaying slightly with her, trying to rock her into a sleepy state, and he’s content to stay outside with you, watching. Enjoying the way you lean into your instincts, your motherhood, soft edges complemented by sharp ones, your baby safe and slipping into a dream from your arms something that he can’t not marvel at. It doesn’t take long for her to be completely out, and you release a long sigh of relief. 

“Alright, time to try again.” You whisper, and he nods, catching a whiff of your shampoo as you turn to head inside with a whisper, coconut and lavender nearly making him dizzy. “Goodnight, Simon.” 

“Goodnight.”

[moonstruckme]

Ooh ok, so here are some ideas for vampire!James in case you feel inspired to write any of them! Maybe something where he comes home after going out to feed thinking reader is asleep and he's feeling guilty and reader comforts and reassures him? Or another idea is just reader finding out that James is a vampire now, or maybe just her being there for him through the turning process. Sorry if none of these tickle your fancy!

Thank you for requesting lovely!!

cw: mention of blood, nausea

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

James walks through your door with heavy steps. He’s glad that he can do it—the first time he tried to come home after turning, you’d both wondered at how his feet wouldn’t cross the threshold until you figured it out and invited him in. It had been embarrassing. Now, James all but stumbles into the kitchen, hopefully not leaving any drippings of blood in his wake. 

He always feels drunk and sluggish after a feeding. Nauseous, too, though he’s not sure if that’s from the bilious too-full feeling or simply his own disgust with himself and what he’s done. Sirius theorizes that if James fed more often instead of waiting until he’s wasting away every time, he might not feel the effects so keenly, but James doesn’t like to talk about it. He still can’t find it in himself to talk about his condition the way his friends do, like it’s normal. 

The water coming out of the tap could be cold or boiling, James wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. All he can think about is getting it all over him, cleansing himself. He’d imagine it as washing away his sins, if such a thing were possible for creatures like him. Still, he wants to be clean to slip into bed beside you. You deserve at least that. 

It’s probably his distraction that keeps him from hearing you come down the hall. (James is not a very good vampire, he thinks. Shoddy predatory instincts.) But when you touch his shoulder, coming up beside him, he doesn’t startle. 

“Sweetheart.” James has the urge to cover his mouth from your view. These days he’s pretty good at feeding neatly, but tonight had been messier. There’s blood down to his chin. “What are you doing up?”

You give him a little smile, opening a drawer next to the sink for a cloth. “I could ask you the same thing.” 

“No, you couldn’t. I’m a creature of the night now, remember?”

Oddly, this has been one of the most difficult parts of the transition for James. There’s the whole living-off-blood thing, of course, and the new ability to hear a fly in the neighbor’s kitchen, but James was always an early-to-rise, early-to-bed sort of bloke. His old schedule was dictated by the sun. Now, all his instincts are in opposition to it. 

He stays still as you adjust the temperature of the tap, wetting the cloth and then lifting it to James’ face. You smell like toothpaste, and underneath that the garlicky pasta you had for dinner. (James isn’t actually deterred by garlic, though he can’t eat it just like he can’t eat any regular foods anymore. Maybe that’s where the folklore came from. Only something truly cursed would stop eating garlic.) He can feel the veins pulsing in your wrist like a substitute for the heartbeat he no longer has, but he’s full enough now not to worry about craving you. 

Of course, he craves you in various ways, all of the time. Just not in that specific way at the moment. 

“You should be in bed,” James murmurs. He touches his thumb to the shadow underneath your left eye. “I can clean myself up.” 

“I wish you’d just use the bathroom,” you reply just as softly, dragging the cloth over the line of his jaw. “But anyway, I don’t mind helping.” 

You don’t mind much of anything, James has found. You don’t mind watching your boyfriend turn into a vampire, don’t mind letting him feed on you, don’t mind cleaning an animal’s blood off his chin at two in the morning. You’ve adjusted to James’ new lifestyle better than he has. He’s beginning to think there’s nothing about him you won’t accept. You’re a sweetheart to your core, your center soft and sticky sweet like a cinnamon roll’s. (James should know, he’d practically tasted it himself.)

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says. 

You wave a hand. “You didn’t. I was up, I just came when I heard the tap come on.” 

So you’d been waiting up for him. James’ heart at once warms with fondness and heavies with guilt. 

You give him a searching look. “Does it still make you feel sick, after?” 

“Yeah,” James admits. 

Your lips pull down. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it, lovely.” 

“Mm, try and stop me,” you counter teasingly. “Do you think you could handle a sprite?” 

James isn’t sure. Solid foods only ever make him sick, but drinks have been hit-or-miss. 

“I could try,” he says, mostly for you. 

“Only if you want to.” You set the cloth down on the edge of the sink, kissing him softly on the lips. James doesn’t know how you can do it. To open your mouth to one that’s just done something horrid, and to do it so simply. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

James’ unbeating heart gives a powerful squeeze. “I love you, too.” 

You press a kiss just below his lips, and another to his chin. If you’re trying to prove a point, it’s working. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if we go to bed?” you ask softly. 

“Mm, definitely. Like the dead.” 

A startled giggle spurts out of you. You smile up at him, your eyes sparkling in the dark. James thinks that maybe he could get used to the whole vampire thing, so long as he can keep you looking at him like this.

[heartmaddie]

kageyama who has a crush on you :(

involves : pre time skip , fluff , implied shorter reader, can be read gn!

kageyama tobio loves consistency, he loves the familiar fabric of a volleyball against his finger tips, he loves waking up everyday at 5:00 to run for a half hour before getting ready for school. he loves having the same breakfast everyday, he found comfort in consistency, it’s been that way since he was young. it’s not something he ever wants to change.

kageyama tobio is so infatuated with you and he doesn’t even realise it for the longest time. not even when he commutes to school with you every morning, even though it’s inconvenient to take the bus to your house first. he’ll be outside your door at 6:30 everyday, he’d rather be late for volleyball practice than not be in your presence for at least an hour in the morning light.

kageyama tobio’s favourite season is winter, he likes watching the snow fall on chilly days and he thinks that the cold air is refreshing against his skin during his morning runs, but most of all, he likes seeing you wrapped up in a woollen coat as you tightly grasp your warm cup, searching for the smallest amount of warmth as you sip on your lightly caffeinated drink to help you adjust to the morning dew.

kageyama tobio who only realised his feelings were a bit more than platonic when sugawara vaguely suggested it, “who’s that person you’re always with?” the older boy asks as he folds extra towels, “oh y/n?, they’re my friend from junior high” kageyama explains,. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” sugawara asks, intending to tease him a bit, but kageyama continues expressionless, “i mean i guess. i remember one time we took the bus together and it was the morning, so the sun hit their face nicely and their eyes were this amber colour i’ve never seen before. i’ve felt differently about their appearance since then” and sugawara was literally like ‘wtf boy’ and explained to him what romantic feelings were 😭

kageyama tobio who shares his wired earplugs with you, standing close to you the both of you listen to some random j-soft rock song he thinks he’s niche for listening to, but he’s really not. he’s comforted when you press your shoulders up against each others so that the bud doesn’t come out.

kageyama tobio’s first time ever initiating something physical with you was when he gently laid his head on your shoulder in the privacy of his room, seeking comfort after a devastating lost from all your friends from junior high, he was a bit embarrassed from the way his heart squeezed when you wrapped your arms around his back and whispered in his ears that he’d be okay.

kageyama tobio who was surprised when you texted him and said not to pick you up today since you were a bit sickly, and he was a bit grouchy and tight because it messed up his schedule (he was worried for you and didn’t like it when you were sick). but you were even more surprised when you hear his deep voice vibrate through your room, “are you awake?” he whispers, you respond with a nod and he sighs in response.

kageyama tobio who sits nearby you, making sure to keep you on your bed as he gently places a cold towel on your forehead, making you swallow different medicines after feeding you okayu that his mother made earlier that day, he scolds you for being careless and getting sick like this.

kageyama tobio who was told by his whole volleyball team that the best way to ask someone out is proudly and with a big confession, and he was literally about to do that until that night his mother advised him to be intimate and personal while confessing, which is how he ended up in the kitchen tempering chocolate all night.

“y/n!” he says, rushing into your classroom, panting heavily so he could find you right before lunch started, your classmates were confused as he drags you right out the room and nearby the tree where you eat with him everyday.

“is something wrong?” you ask curiously, squeezing his hand as you watched him pant

“no, no.. it’s not that” he muttered, his face bright red. “let me just..” he rummages through his bag. you bite down on your lip as you try not to smile, it was endearing watching him like this.

he took a deep breath and gently placed a clear cellophane bag with a white ribbon tying it neatly together in your hands, it was filled with a couple pink and red heart shaped chocolates, causing you to flush and look up at him expectantly.

“i really like you y/n, can i be your boyfriend?”

you spent the bus home leaning on his shoulder as you quietly shared your sweets with him.

kageyama tobio whose life changed slightly everyday when you started dating officially. he liked how you’d cling onto his arm when you were cold, or every morning when he greeted you with a kiss you’d look up at him flushed with your bottom lip tucked under your teeth. he liked the small, intimate changes which occurred after he confessed to you.

tobio kageyama loved consistency, but he loved you just that much more. extra !

you're still wearing your blazer and wishing your friends goodbye as you cried, it was the end of high school after all. when the time's right, tobio's pulling you away from your friends, taking you to the tree where he confessed to you three years ago, "y/n" he mumbles into your ear as he holds you tight, basking in the last moments of high school love he'd have with you. "tobio, is something wrong?" you ask, gently pushing his raven hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "no.." he rummages through his pocket, opening your hand with his fingers and slipping his small , second black blazer button into your palm, he encloses them with his own.

"i got selected for the japan national team" he mumbles as if it was nothing, causing you gasp, "really tobio that's so exci-" he smiles into your skin, cutting you off. "come to tokyo with me, we can start our life there"

! please consider liking, reblogging or following if you enjoyed :3 guys writing is so scratching my head but its lowk fun - why do i get so nerovus posting uhh

[syoddeye]

consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

~~

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

~~

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’. 

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger. 

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.” 

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?” 

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains. 

“i mean, this part’s weird.” 

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect. 

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.” 

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”  

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

[giuseppe-yuki]

pranks

carlos sainz x meerkat shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few curse words?

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: a prank kind of backfires on you and carlos

picture credits from pinterest :)

honestly, you thought your favorite mode of transportation must be riding on carlos’ broad shoulders. with such a tall vantage point, you could see farther ahead compared to if you walking on the ground. plus, you wouldn’t be trampled on by over-eager fans, you didn’t have to tire your legs out, and you’d be able to catch a whiff of the familiar smell of carlos’ cologne. 

you adjust your grip on carlos’ racing red ferrari kit, digging your paws into the soft material and curling your body around his neck. the paddock in suzuka was real pretty, with cherry blossoms framing the walkway.

carlos continues walking into the paddock, occasionally stopping to sign hats and merch. a few little fans asked to pet you too, and you gladly scurried down carlos’ arm to let them stroke your fur with sticky fingers that kids always seem to have. a child completely covered in george merch even stopped to hand-feed you a piece of fruit. 

when he arrives in his motorhome, he gently sets you down on the sofa. he collapses next to you, body sprawled on the couch. “ugh, that was exhausting.” he says exasperatedly. “there is still-” he checks his watch. “two hours until fp3?? i swear to god, my manager must have messed up the schedule.” 

he leans back into the couch, and then fishes a peanut out of the pocket of his jeans. your boyfriend always seemed to have a stache of your favorite meerkat-friendly snacks in his pocket. not that you minded- you were always down for a little snack now and then.

he flings the peanut at you, and you manage to avoid the flying nut by a centimeter. you whip your head back at him, glaring at him the most vicious way possible. 

his mouth is open, hand still frozen in the throwing position. “omg! i swear to god i did not mean to throw it that hard, mi amor.” he scoops you up and pats your tiny head. reaching into his pocket again, he takes out another peanut and hands it to you gingerly. 

you accept the peanut and crack it open, but continue to glare at him. while you munch on the peanut, carlos looks down at you with a glimmer of mischievousness in his big brown eyes. you knew that look- he only did that when he had a particularly funny prank that he wanted to pull (the last time he had that look in his eyes was when he came up with the idea to put 100 miniature rubber snakes around charles’ drivers room). 

“i’ve just had the funniest idea,” he exclaims. “since we have so much time on our hands, we should go to mclaren to annoy lando!” 

ever since being associated with carlos, you have been dragged into so many of his pranks around the paddock that a glance at your meerkat form has people wondering if carlos was planning another mischievous trick. it was the polar opposite of your normal human form. i mean, who would suspect carlos’ nice reserved girlfriend to also be his havoc-causing meerkat sidekick?

the mclaren employees shoot you both suspicious glances as carlos strolls through the mclaren motorhome. he creeps around corners and listens through every door. you hold on to his team kit with your sharp paws for dear life- you surely would have slid off already if you hadn’t. it’s only when he comes across a sitting area with two familiar figures that he stops. 

“you’re not very adventurous with food, are you?” you hear oscar say, holding what seems to be a red-bean mochi in between his fingertips. 

“well, i don’t wanna be,” lando shoots back, pushing the japanese snack away from him.

carlos creeps behind lando, and hands you several peanuts that he fished from his pockets. taking advantage of lando and oscar’s bickering, he lets you slide off of his shoulders. you bolt full speed towards lando and start throwing the peanuts at his head while screeching. 

he yelps, jumps out of his chair, and scurries behind a nearby table to hide. oscar, spotting your tiny figure compared to lando’s cowering body next to the table, starts cackling. 

a full hour hadn’t even passed for carlos to get that look in his eyes again. this time, you were busy piecing together a 2000 piece puzzle of ayrton senna in the mostly empty dining hall when you see him approach you.

“what now,” you say, raising an eyebrow. 

a wide grin splits your boyfriend’s face. “let’s go steal charles’ helmet!” he whispers, just in case charles or any of his team members are nearby. 

poor charles was almost always on the receiving end of carlos’ pranks (although you did hear about pierre somehow obtaining a snake and sneaking into charles’ room with it). you swear that it is going to backfire one day. 

nevertheless, you agree, leaving half of senna’s face and his car’s front wing done on the table. 

it was a really quick process, as you shifted, scurried past the mechanics and lifted charles’ signature red helmet off of the counter in one swoop. no one batted an eye as you pushed the helmet out of the garage and into carlos’ arms. 

“yess! good job, baby!” he cheers, once the helmet is in his hand. “now where to hide it?”

he looks around, before finally walking into the gap in between the aston martin and ferrari motorhomes. you scurry after him, paws hitting the ground at full speed. at the end is a little secluded space, surrounded on all four sides by walls or other teams’ motorhomes. he snickers, and sets charles’ helmet on the ground. pulling out his phone, he snaps a picture, ready to send to charles as a taunt. 

you proceed to turn, brushing strands of meerkat fur off of your flowy shortskirt. “not even a thank you, carlos?” you say, tilting your head. “i risked my life out there stealing his helmet!” 

before he can answer, you hear the clonk of a waterbottle dropping near the ferrari motorhome. standing there, mouth open in shock, stands charles leclerc, the owner of the helmet that you stole. “did you just-” he starts.

carlos, realizing your secret might get out through charles, marches through the gap, snatches the familiar white celcius water bottle from the ground, and yanks charles into the secluded space. 

you stand very still next to the helmet, not knowing if you wanted to bolt and hide in a hole so you’d never be seen again, or to slap carlos for exposing your secret, to his teammate, no less. you knew that carlos’ tricks would backfire one day.

“mate, please, please, please do not tell anyone about this!” carlos says, clutching charles’ shirt. 

once the initial shock has worn off, charles shocked expression turns into a smirk. “of course i’ll tell people about this! you literally stole my helmet and you expect me not to expose you for taking my things? besides, it’s a payback for pranking me so much! i still find those stupid rubber snakes that you hid in my room everywhere. i always have to call my girlfriend to help me get rid of them.” 

you step up next to carlos and charles, a confused expression on your face. “wait. so you didn’t see me turn?”

a look of understanding flashes across charles’ face. “ohhh!!” he remarks. “you mean the meerkat thing?”

“yes!” you and carlos both say simultaneously. 

“don’t worry, i won’t tell!” charles says, to both of your guy’s relief. “don’t you know, my girlfriend can shift into a hedgehog? no offense, i think that’s way cooler than a meerkat,” he states with a smug smile on his face.

“oi, pendejo!” carlos says, narrowing his eyes. “how dare you say that!”

you laugh, putting an hand on carlos’ shoulder. “it’s okay baby, i’m just glad this didn’t turn out into a bad situation!” 

charles shoots you an appreciative grin, knowing you saved him from potential physical altercation with carlos. it quickly dissipates, however, when he sees his helmet behind your legs.

“right, back to the helmet, how dare you steal it! fred would’ve killed me if i showed up to fp3 without it!” 

understanding the power charles has now knowing your secret, carlos apologizes. “we are sorry, charles. i promise i won’t ever steal any of your things again!” 

charles continues to stand there, waiting for him to continue.

“-and i won’t play any more pranks on you, i swear!” he says quickly. 

charles nods once, satisfied with carlos’ promise.

from side facing the motorhomes, fernando sticks his head into the gap separating the two teams. spotting you three standing there, he jokes, “you guys having a party in there, or what?” 

t-minus 20 minutes until fp3, charles sets his water bottle on the counter and pulls on his balaclava. across the motorhome, carlos is doing this same. when charles finishes adjusting the material over his head and nose, he suddenly sees a flash of fur on the counter. it’s you, bolting away like your life is on the line with his water bottle in hand. 

“CARLOS!” you hear him shout.

from your hiding spot in one of the engineer’s headphone cubbies, you see carlos scramble over to charles. 

“what? is everything alright?” carlos says, concerned. 

“your girlfriend just stole my waterbottle!” he whispers heatedly, pointing at you sitting innocently in the cubby like everything was normal, except for the fact that a white racing waterbottle, complete with a long straw and a “charles leclerc” sticker is sitting next to you. carlos laughs, “i mean- i did only promise that i won’t steal anything or pull any pranks on you; i didn't promise my girlfriend wouldn't!”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks @madkohi

[brittle-biscuits]

After School Plans (Fundamental Paper Education)

I’m feeding y’all FPE lads again.

You took your coat off your chair and placed it on as you got ready to leave Paper School for the day. Miss Grace and Miss Emily were just passing by when they catch you locking the door to your classroom. Miss Grace was the first to speak up to you.

“Leaving for the day, Mister/Miss Y/N?”

Yep, you had to go early today, so any student that needed afterschool studying will need to wait until tomorrow.

“It’s odd that you don’t stay afterschool like you normally would. What’s different about today that makes you want to leave so soon?”

Miss Emily questioned with an adjustment to her glasses. She would most often seeing you stay after school to teach any of your students who had middling exam scores.

She’d..make small talk with you at the cooler in the teacher’s lounge, taking every bit of her confidence to make eye contact with you without sweating up a storm!

You…had a date scheduled with Miss Circle today.

“A DATE?!”

You jumped back at how loud Miss Grace and Miss Emily shrieked out their shock. An awkward silence ensured before Miss Grace cleared her throat.

“I apologize for my outburst. But…a date? With Miss Circle of all people?”

“I never would’ve thought she would be your type. (Are those kinds of women your type, Mister/Miss Y/N?)”

Yeah, Miss Circle had been badgering you for a date for weeks now. She’s leaving these little notes taped to your door when she passes by. Like this these for example.

“Me. You. Date plz. :3 - Miss Circle”

“Disciplined a failure, thought of you to calm down. Date when? :3 - Miss Circle)

“I’M IN YOUR WALLS. So excited for the date :3 - Miss Circle)

Miss Grace felt like facepalming, of course Miss Circle came after you for a date until you eventually said yes. Miss Emily was still looking bewildered by these notes.

So yeah, you had to go. Miss Circle was probably waiting right outside the main doors to the school. She was looking pretty impatient for the school day to end and you hate to keep a lady waiting.

You head off as Miss Emily and Miss Grace watched you leave.

Miss Grace clenched her hand into a fist in angered annoyance.

“Rabid, good for nothing-“

She stopped herself. She had a whole dictionary worth of insults she wanted to hurl at Miss Circle right now.

Miss Emily, on the other hand, was sulking. She could barely have a whole conversation with you, meanwhile Miss Circle had already scored a date with you.

“This makes me wish I had Miss Circle’s confidence, I’d have Mister/Miss Y/N in my arms by now…”

“Wait what?”

Miss Circle will see them at the honeymoon! :D

[surielstea]

Camping Affairs

Kinktober day 4: Size + Hair pulling

Pairing: Lorcan Salvaterre x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader and Lorcan have to share a tent and can’t find sleep, they find other ways to exhaust themselves.

Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | Controlled orgasm I P in V I semi-public (in a tent) | size kink | Hair pulling | praise I clit play | cream pie I fluff at the end

A. Note: I’m so sorry this is late, it didn’t post when I scheduled it for some reason 😭😭, anywho, this is made specifically for the lovely @lexluvswriting because I’m simply here to feed her Lorcan obsession 🫶

6.9k words.

"You know, for being Maeve's pride and joys you'd think we'd be given better accommodations," I say as I lay out my bedroll, the tent Her Majesty supplied us with so small it was almost comical.

"We're warriors, not royalty," Lorcan grumbled from the outside of the canvas, giving me some privacy as I stripped from my leathers and into a nightgown.

"Speak for yourself," I scoffed, poking my head out of the flaps to look up at him. "Rowan is a prince," I say matter-of-factly. "Perhaps he could pull some strings and get us all our own tent," I suggest and he looks at me with that sneering expression he always wore.

"We've battled in wars, I think you can manage," He grumbled, motioning with his hand for me to recede back into the tent. I frowned but backed up and sidled onto my bedroll. I tried not to laugh at the sight of the seven-foot demi-fae crouching to stop his head from hitting the ceiling of the tent.

He gave me a glare that I assume was meant to intimidate me but it didn't affect me much when he had to walk on his knees in order to settle on his own bedroll.

All seven of Maeve's blood sworn were called to meet with her in Doranelle, something about the Lost Princess of Terrasan— I wasn't really listening when Rowan was briefing us, all I knew was that I was going to have to pack my life up for the crazed queen I was sworn to, again, and take the week hike away from my comfy home in Varese.

With only three tents, the seven of us were split into pairs. Two per tent, and one on watch outside. Gavriel had posed a system to put the smallest and the largest together, as to avoid uncomfortably in the tents— and I hadn't thought it would be a problem until now. Shoulder to shoulder, with my least favorite of the group.

"Why do you have to be built like a damned giant," I grumble as I shift away from him, the side of me pressing into the wall of the tent. I could've shifted onto my side and separated us a little further— but that would mean I'd have to face him, and at this proximity, I doubt it would be comfortable for either of us.

"Would you rather join Rowan and Fenrys?" Lorcan grumbles, sounding like he was talking in my ear he was so close. I smirk at the idea.

"Can't say I'd be displeased in the middle of that," I purr.

Lorcan sighs, muttering a string of curses, too low to make out. "You're insufferable." He decided on voicing.

"And yet, here we are, stuck with each other," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. "Don't pretend you don't love it."

He snorts. "I could think of better ways to spend my time."

"Oh?" I hum, turning toward him a little more, my cheek propped on my hand. "What would Lorcan Salvaterre rather be doing right now, instead of sharing a tent with yours truly?"

He shoots me a look, dark and brooding, but his lips twitch. "Not listening to you, for starters."

I roll my eyes. "If you weren't so quiet all the time, maybe I wouldn't have to fill the silence."

"There's silence because I'm trying to sleep," he retorts, though his tone is lighter, almost playful—at least, as playful as Lorcan ever gets.

I scoff, grinning. "Please, you never sleep. You just brood all night like some menacing statue."

"You should be grateful," he says, adjusting his position, his shoulder now brushing against mine. "At least I keep the monsters away."

"Monsters?" I snort. "The only thing I'm afraid of in this tent is your enormous leg crushing me in my sleep."

"You talk too much," Lorcan grumbles, though there's the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"I talk just enough to drive you insane," I shoot back, feeling a strange sense of victory at the idea of getting under his skin. "It's one of my many talents," I add, worsening the blow.

He doesn't respond, but his silence feels different this time. Like he's deciding whether to engage or just strangle me.

"If you're so miserable," I start, stifling a yawn, "you ought to throw me outside and have the whole tent to yourself," I utter, lifting my arms up over my head and stretching out to the best of my abilities.

"Don't tempt me," he grunts, though I don't miss the way his eyes follow me as I stretch, my movements exaggerated just to annoy him.

"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself," I murmur, settling back down. "Without me to keep you company."

"Go to sleep," he says, ignoring my words.

I smirk up at the stars. "Sweet dreams, Salvaterre."

His grumble is the only reply I get, but for some reason, the sound makes me smile.

The silence stretches on for a few minutes, and I do my best to settle in, but there's no ignoring the cramped space and the sheer presence of Lorcan taking up most of it. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, I sigh dramatically.

"I can't sleep," I announced, knowing he was still wide awake.

From beside me, Lorcan groans, clearly exasperated. "Of course, you can't," he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, rolling onto my side to face him, our faces just inches apart in the dim light.

"That you're incapable of quieting down for more than a minute," he grumbles, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I've been quiet for at least five minutes!" I argue, though I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. "And anyway, it's your fault. You're hogging all the space."

He cracks an eye open, giving me a flat look. "You take up about as much room as a pillow. You have plenty of space."

"Then why can't I get comfortable?" I huff, shifting again, this time letting my arm bump against his on purpose.

"You're sleeping with the wolves tonight." He says like it’s a promise.

I gasp dramatically, my hand flying to my chest. "Lorcan Salvaterre, you would abandon me to the creatures of the night? Leave me defenseless and cold?"

"You're hardly defenseless," he says, but I catch the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I grin, triumphant. "I knew it—you do care."

"Care? I just don't want to explain to Maeve why I let you get eaten by a wyvern," he grumbles, turning onto his side so his back is to me.

I roll my eyes, inching closer just to annoy him. "You'd miss me," I murmur, as if it was an absent thought.

"Like a hole in my head."

I poke him between the shoulder blades. "Liar. You'd be lost without me. Who else would keep you entertained on these long, miserable missions?"

He doesn't respond right away, but I don't miss the way his shoulders tense at my words. "You're assuming I need entertainment."

"You're assuming you don't," I tease, leaning in until my chin is nearly resting on his arm. "Deep down, I know you love it. My sparkling wit, my endless charm—"

He turns so quickly that I almost tumble backward, his face suddenly centimeters from mine. His dark eyes glint with something that makes my heart skip a beat. "You're lucky I don't actually throw you out of this tent."

I blink up at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse races at the proximity. "You'd never."

His eyebrow raises. "You willing to bet?"

I raise mine right back, leaning in just a fraction more.

"I do." There's a brief moment where neither of us moves, the air between us charged with unspoken tension. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, Lorcan rolls his eyes and collapses back onto his bedroll.

"You're impossible," he mutters, covering his face with his arm. "Go to sleep before I do actually throw you out."

I smirk, victory swelling in my chest. "Admit it—you'd be bored out of your mind without me."

"If I admit it, will you shut up?"

"I'll think about it," I hum, settling back into my bedroll, feeling way more pleased with myself than I should.

"Fine," he growls. "I'd be bored."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up. "See? Was that so hard?"

Lorcan groans again, louder this time. "It was unbearable."

"Goodnight, Lorcan," I say sweetly, curling up and closing my eyes, but I'm still grinning like an idiot.

From beside me, I hear a quiet mutter, almost too soft to catch. "Goodnight."

We lay there in silence for a few minutes, but as usual, my mind refused to settle. The darkness outside the tent feels suffocating, the air thick with anticipation of the mission ahead. I chew my bottom lip, turning over a dozen questions in my head before finally blurting out the one that's been nagging me all night.

"What do you think Maeve wants from us?"

Lorcan's groan is immediate. "You said you'd shut up," he grumbles, not even opening his eyes.

"I said I'd think about it, Salvaterre," I correct, nudging him with my elbow. "Besides, I can't sleep when you keep kicking me."

He huffs out a breath, lifting his arm from his eyes to glare at me. "I haven't moved an inch."

"Oh, really?" I feign innocence, shifting my foot to gently nudge his leg. "What do you call this?"

"That," he says flatly, "is you kicking me."

"I'm just showing you what it feels like," I shoot back, smirking as I prod his shin again.

"Stop that," he growls.

"I will when you answer my question."

"You should be more worried about surviving the week without me strangling you."

I huff, my face burning, but the silence that follows is heavier now—charged with the tension that neither of us wants to acknowledge. After a beat, I clear my throat, breaking it.

"You still didn't answer my question."

He sighs, long and dramatic. "How should I know? Probably some power play involving the Princess."

"Do you think they’ll ally?" I ask, though I know I'm pushing my luck.

He hesitates, his gaze flicking toward the tent's ceiling. "I don’t know," he admits. "Or she might just want us to deal with something different entirely. Maeve doesn't summon all of us for nothing."

I nod, feeling a shiver run through me. "I just hope we don't end up with another war on our hands."

Lorcan shifts slightly, his massive form somehow taking up even more space. "If we do, I'll be sure to shove you out in front to make use of all that 'charm' you keep going on about."

I roll my eyes, kicking him lightly under the blanket. "You're the worst."

He opens one eye to glance at me, unamused. "If I kill you in your sleep, it's your fault."

"Please," I scoff, sitting up slightly. "You couldn't strangle me even if you tried. I'd have you pinned in a heartbeat."

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, one that's more amused than I expected. "You? Pin me?"

I raise an eyebrow, refusing to back down. "You'd be surprised."

He tilts his head slightly, considering me with a dark glint in his eyes. "Go on, then. Prove it."

I blink, caught off guard by the challenge. "What, right now?"

He shrugs, the movement sending a ripple through his broad shoulders. "Unless you're too scared."

I narrow my eyes, inching closer. "I'm not scared."

His lips twitch, just barely, but enough to make my heart pound in my chest. "Then do it."

Before I can talk myself out of it, I shift, moving to straddle his waist. "Okay," I say, though my voice sounds much shakier than I intended. "See? You're completely at my mercy now."

Lorcan, infuriatingly, doesn't look remotely concerned. He just stares up at me, one eyebrow raised, as if waiting for something more. "That's it?"

"Well, I—" I start, but he interrupts by effortlessly grabbing my wrists in one of his massive hands and flipping me over before I can even process what's happening.

In the blink of an eye, I'm pinned beneath him, my back pressing into the bedroll as his weight holds me in place. His face hovers inches above mine, dark and unreadable, though I swear there's a flicker of amusement in his gaze.

"I think that's what you were trying to do," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but with a playful edge.

I glare up at him, trying to squirm, but he doesn't budge. "You cheated."

He leans in slightly, his breath brushing against my cheek. "You didn't give me much of a challenge."

"You're such a brute," I snap, though I'm more frustrated with myself for falling right into his trap.

"I can't believe I made Whitethorn train you instead, this is delightful."

"Oh please, you just forgot the feel of a woman beneath you."

"Care to remind me what I've been missing?" His smirk widens, daring me to say more.

"Depends, what do I get in return?"

"A lesson, maybe I'll teach you what it's like to be beneath someone who knows how to be in control."

His words hang in the air between us, and my breath catches, the challenge in his voice igniting something deep within me. I try to maintain my composure, but the way his dark eyes lock onto mine makes it difficult. There's an intensity in his gaze that makes my heart race, a spark of something primal that sends shivers down my spine.

"Is that so?" I reply, my voice teasing yet laced with curiosity. "And just how do you plan to do that?"

"A demonstration," he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath warms my skin, his lips hovering tantalizingly above mine.

The space between us crackles with tension, my heart pounding in my chest as I hold his gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation. Instead, I find determination mixed with that devil-may-care amusement that is so quintessentially Lorcan. It drives me wild.

"Show me, then," I challenge, emboldened by the heat of the moment.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and before I can brace myself, he captures my wrists in his powerful hands and shifts, pinning them above my head against the soft canvas of the tent. My breath hitches at the sudden thrill of being completely at his mercy, the weight of his body pressing me into the bedroll, a heady mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding my senses.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice low, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a thrill racing through me.

"Do I have a choice?" I reply, trying to sound defiant but feeling the flush of excitement creeping up my neck.

"Good answer," he says, leaning down, his lips barely brushing against mine, teasingly close yet just out of reach. The warmth of his breath sends tingles across my skin, and I can't resist the urge to lean in, desperate for that connection.

"Stop teasing," I whisper my heart racing, the air thick with unspoken tension. "Just kiss me already."

With a low growl of approval, he closes the distance, capturing my lips with his in a fierce, passionate kiss. It's electric, a jolt that sends sparks dancing along my nerves, igniting every inch of my skin. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the taste of him—warm and intoxicating.

His lips move against mine with a hungry urgency, coaxing me into the rhythm of it. I respond instinctively, wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him on. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of us, entangled in the heat of the moment.

I can feel the weight of his body pressing into mine, the way his strength envelops me, sending a rush of desire coursing through my veins. It's overwhelming and intoxicating, igniting a fire within me that I didn't know was there.

I part my legs and he adjusts, slotting between them— gods it was an effort for my legs to even widen enough. He grabbed my thigh in one of his large hands and guided it up higher, then the other, until I was in a mating press beneath him. He smirked against my lips, his hands moving to trail up my sides. "Now you're really at my mercy," He purred and my core thrummed in anticipation.

"Lorcan," I panted into his open mouth, unable to find the words to tell him how badly I needed this.

"As much as I love the sound of you moaning my name, I need you to stay quiet for me, yeah?" He asked and I sucked in a breath, nodding all too quickly, too desperately.

He smirked at the reaction and captured my lips with his yet again, devouring me as he pried my mouth open with his tongue, exploring me with it, not missing a spot uncovered.

I tugged at the waistband of his pants and he captured my wrist before I could tug them down much further. "Not yet, I need to stretch you out first," He warned, his tone brooking no argument.

I let out a soft whimper of protest and he pressed his mouth onto mine, his voice softening as he said, "I don't want to hurt you, be patient for me and I promise I'll make you feel good alright?" He reassured me, his thumb brushing over the pulse point of my wrist before releasing it.

I nod slowly, slipping my hands into his silky black hair while he pushes up my nightgown.

He practically tore through my panties without a second thought, then froze for a moment before making contact. His eyes flicked to mine and I returned his stare with pleasing eyes and a rapid nod. He leaned down, below my lips and to the line of my jaw, making his way down the column of my throat before his calloused fingertips came to contact with my pulsing cunt.

His lips morphed into a malicious smile as he felt just how badly I needed him, the way I was practically dripping down his hand. "So wet, and here I was thinking you hated me?" He drawled against my skin, kissing down my chest and then back up to the hollow of my throat.

I tug at his hair, silently begging him for more. "Lorcan," I whine, words failing me as I arch into his touch, attempting to get even the smallest taste of pleasure. "Please, touch me," I swallow past the lump in my throat.

"I am touching you, love," He whispered, his breath ghosting over the shell of my ear.

My brows furrowed, features contorting with need. "Inside of me, please," I beg. A smirk pulls at his lips and he leans closer, gently pressing his lips to my cheek— too gentle to be casual. But I didn't have time to weigh the action because suddenly he had two fingers pushing inside of my aching cunt, stretching me out.

A gasp escaped me and he swallowed it greedily before connecting our lips again, silencing me.

His long, calloused fingers pumped skillfully into me, grazing against my contracting walls. "Fuck, you're tight," He breathed as I clenched desperately around his hand, gripping his hair but not pulling. His other hand snaked up my propped-up thigh, pinning it down with a possessive need.

His thumb met my clit and it took everything in me not to scream, to cry out his name. "That's it," He encouraged. "Such a good girl, staying quiet for me," He praised, making the tension in my core tighten until it was nearly unbearable.

My overwhelming need for release was all-consuming, every thrust of his fingers, every roll of his thumb sent me reeling. He knew I was close, knew from the way I was trembling beneath him— I knew that he knew, but still, I cried in protest when his hand stilled.

"Not yet," He warned softly, pulling his hand out of me entirely, leaving me empty and aching. I opened my mouth to protest, to beg him to keep going, but he cut me off with a searing kiss, swallowing my complaints with his lips. "I said, be patient," He whispered against my mouth, his tone dark and commanding. "And when you come, it'll be on my cock. Understood?"

I nodded quickly, my breath coming in desperate pants, the tension in my body screaming for release. But I clamped down on my objections, not wanting him to drag this out longer than he already meant to.

His smirk widened, pleased with my compliance, and he finally rid himself of the last of his clothes, his pants hitting the ground with a soft thud. The sight of him—broad and powerful, his skin glistening in the dim light of the tent—made my pulse quicken, and the need to feel him inside me surged with renewed intensity.

He moved to get rid of my clothes too, still bunched at my hips. Luckily he didn't rip it off of me as he did with my panties, instead guided the material over my head, baring me to the brisk night air and his intense gaze.

"Beautiful," He whispered softly, pressing a claiming kiss to the top of one of my breasts. My lip wobbled with a need to moan but I held it down, instead distracted myself with the sight of him.

His shirtless figure was a sight to behold, carved muscle and a chest as hard as marble, but it was what was below his torso that made me pause.

I had expected Lorcan to be big, but gods. I had been with many men in my immortal life, and still, he made me freeze.

His smirk widened as he noticed where my stare was directed. He settled himself between my thighs, his broad frame dwarfing mine. I could feel the heat of him pressing into me, so much of him. My breath hitched, and his dark eyes flicked down, catching the way I bit my lip as he aligned himself at my entrance. His size alone had me trembling, and he knew it—relishing in the subtle way my body tensed beneath him.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I almost feel bad," he whispered, "about how much I'm going to stretch you out."

A low whimper escaped me, and I felt his grin against my skin. My fingers curled into his hair, tugging lightly as I drew him closer, desperate for more. His eyes darkened as I pulled harder, and I could feel the tension ripple through his body.

"Be good for me, love, and stay still," he purred, voice a velvety rasp. His hips barely moved, teasing me with the blunt head of his cock as he pushed forward just enough to stretch me—just enough to drive me wild. He pulled back before I could feel the full pressure, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he watched my hips arch off the bedding, chasing him.

"You're so desperate," he murmured, his breath hot against my throat, "so needy." His tone was teasing in a way that would usually enrage me, but the way he said it sent a rush of heat to my core instead, making me clench around nothing, aching for him to fill me.

"Lorcan," I whispered, my voice trembling as I shifted beneath him, trying to ease the ache. He groaned at the sound of his name on my lips, and the tension in his body told me he was holding back, keeping himself in check for my sake.

Slowly, torturously, he guided himself to my entrance, the blunt head of his cock teasing me, stretching me open just enough to make me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he began to push forward, the burn of the stretch sending sparks of pain-laced pleasure through my core.

"Fuck," I breathed, my eyes squeezing shut as he inched deeper. He was so big—bigger than I'd expected—and I had to fight to keep my breaths steady as my body adjusted to the size of him.

Lorcan paused for a moment, letting me catch my breath, his large hand caressing my thigh in slow, soothing strokes. "You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a low rasp, full of restraint. "Just relax for me."

"Stay still," he breathed, voice rough as he pulled back just enough to make me whine, the emptiness unbearable. "Gods, it's hard to control myself when you keep moving like that."

A shiver ran through me at his words, my core clenching around him as he pressed forward again, slow and deliberate, giving me every thick inch of him until I was stretched impossibly full. My legs trembled as they tried to accommodate his size, and his hands came down to hold them steady, lifting my thighs higher, and spreading me wider beneath him.

"That's it, just like that," he murmured, his voice dropping to a growl as he adjusted his angle, sliding deeper still. "Good girl, taking me so well."

I whimpered at the praise, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging harder now, desperate to feel him move. His breath hitched, a low moan escaping him as I pulled, and I could feel the way it affected him—how much it pushed him closer to the edge of his restraint.

But Lorcan wasn't one to be rushed.

He withdrew agonizingly slow, leaving me panting beneath him, aching for him to fill me again. "You can handle a little more, can't you?" he teased, his lips curling into a smirk as he saw the need in my eyes. My hands moved from his hair to the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back down to me, urging him on, but he caught my wrists with ease, pinning them above my head with one large hand. The contrast in size was startling—his fingers easily wrapping around both of my wrists, holding me completely at his mercy.

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing mine as he whispered, "Stay still, or I'll make you wait longer."

A soft whimper escaped me, and he chuckled darkly, pleased with my compliance. Slowly, he started to move again, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one drawing out the delicious stretch, making me gasp as he filled me completely, finally bottoming out as his hips pressed into mine.

My body trembled beneath him, the intensity of it building with every slow, torturous thrust. I could feel the thick slide of him inside me, the way my walls clenched around his cock, desperate to hold him, to keep him deep inside. But Lorcan kept up the slow pace, each thrust deeper than the last, drawing me out, making me feel every inch of him.

"Fuck, so tight," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with desire. His free hand slid down my side, gripping my waist as he pulled me closer, his hips rolling into me with a new intensity that made me see stars.

"Lorcan," I mewled, writhing beneath him, bucking my hips up to meet his

He let out a low growl as I continued to disobey his order to stay still. "If you keep doing that," he warned, his voice thick with strain, "I'm not going to be able to stop myself."

"Then don't," I breathed, my voice trembling as I arched into him, wanting—needing—more.

His eyes darkened, and before I could say anything else, he was moving again, faster now, his thrusts more intense, each one hitting deeper, making me cry out in pleasure. He swallowed my moans with his mouth, devouring me with a kiss so fierce it left me breathless.

Lorcan's hand, the one not gripping my wrists, slipped between us, his thumb brushing over my clit with just enough pressure to make me gasp, my body jerking beneath him. "Stay quiet," he reminded me, his voice a low growl as his thumb circled slowly, teasingly. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear, would we?"

I shook my head frantically, biting down on my lip to keep from crying out as his pace quickened, the tension inside me building unbearably with every push and pull of his powerful hips, every circle of his thumb on my sensitive clit. I was so close, so on edge, but I knew he wasn't going to let me go just yet. He wanted to drag it out, to make me feel every second of it.

His lips ghosted over my ear as he whispered, "I love how small you feel beneath me—how perfectly you fit around my cock."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, making my walls tighten around him in response. I could feel the heat of his body pressing into mine, the steady rhythm of his thrusts making me dizzy with desire. The way he filled me, stretched me, it was almost too much—almost, but not enough.

I wanted more. I needed more.

He pulled back just enough to smirk down at me, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. "Gods, you're so fucking tight," he growled, his voice low and guttural as he picked up the pace, thrusting into me harder, deeper. My body arched beneath him, instinctively chasing the pleasure only he could give me.

His hand, still holding my wrists above my head, tightened its grip, his other sliding down my body to grab hold of my waist, pulling me against him with each thrust. The intensity was overwhelming, but I craved every second of it. His thumb returned to my clit, circling it with maddening precision, making my toes curl and my breath catches in my throat.

I bit down on my lip, desperate to keep quiet as he'd commanded, but it was nearly impossible with the way he was driving me to the brink, over and over again. I could feel the pressure building in my core, a white-hot ball of tension that threatened to unravel me at any moment.

"You close baby?" Lorcan rasped, his voice rough as he ground his hips into mine, each thrust hitting deeper than the last. His thumb pressed harder on my clit, the friction sending shockwaves through my body.

I nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words, my head spinning with the need for release.

"Beg for it," he commanded, his breath hot against my ear as he continued his relentless pace, driving me wild. "Beg me to let you come."

I whimpered, my body trembling beneath him as I struggled to find the words. "Please, Lorcan," I whispered, my voice shaking as I arched up against him, desperate for more. "Please, please I can't hold it— I need it, Lor."

He groaned at my words, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic, his control slipping. "Good girl," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Go ahead, come on my cock."

With those words, the tension inside me snapped. My entire body clenched around him, my back arching off the bed as I came undone, the wave of pleasure crashing over me so violently I saw stars. I bit down on my lip, stifling the scream that threatened to escape as my orgasm tore through me, every nerve in my body alight with sensation.

Lorcan let out a low, guttural groan as he felt me clench around him, his pace faltering as he chased his own release. His hips snapped into mine one last time, burying himself deep inside me as he came with a low growl, his body trembling with the force of it.

For a long, breathless second, neither of us moved, the sounds of our ragged breathing the only thing filling the air. But as the intensity slowly ebbed, Lorcan pulled back, his smirk already returning to his lips. He let out a satisfied hum as he leaned down to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "See? You can follow orders when you really want to."

I swatted his chest weakly, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Don't get used to it," I said, still panting, though my voice had a playful edge to it.

He chuckled, rolling off me and settling onto his side, his large arm draped possessively over my waist. "I don't need to. You'll break soon enough."

I snorted, feeling the familiar banter falling back into place. "You're dreaming, Salvaterre. If anything, you're the one breaking. You were practically trembling back there."

His dark eyes flashed with amusement, and he leaned down to brush his lips against my ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "If I was really trying to break you, you wouldn't even be able to walk right now."

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips. "Bold words for an old man who can barely control himself."

He raised a brow, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to remind me of his strength. "Care to test that theory?"

I shot him a challenging look, though the heat still lingered in my veins. "Maybe next time," I teased, flipping onto my side to face him, our noses brushing and suddenly the tent didn't feel all that small. "You've got to save some energy if you plan on keeping up with me, after all."

His eyes glinted with amusement, and the playful edge in his smile sent a shiver of anticipation through me. "Oh, you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into,"

With a wink, I scooted a little further from him— well, as far as I could, feigning innocence. "Well, in that case, let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself until morning."

Lorcan's low chuckle reverberated in the tent, his eyes gleaming with challenge as he watched me. "Go to sleep already," He insisted. I look at him, staring at his features softened by the moonlight filtering through the canvas.

And as I settled back into the blankets, his body warm beside mine, I couldn't help but smirk, knowing that the game between us was far from over. "Goodnight, Lor," I mumble quietly.

The faint light of dawn filtered through the tent, pulling me from sleep. The warmth of Lorcan's body was missing, and the space beside me felt cool to the touch. I blinked groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I rolled onto my back, pulling the thin blankets over my bare body, the events of the previous night replaying in my mind.

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding as I thought about everything—what it meant to have crossed that line with Lorcan. We'd been stuck in this tense back-and-forth, pushing each other's buttons ever since I met the male, but last night had changed everything, we stepped past a boundary we couldn't come back from. A part of me wondered if it would be different now, or if he'd go back to being the brooding, impossible male he was before. My chest tightened, but I pushed the thought aside. No use overthinking it, especially when we had a mission to accomplish.

I took a deep breath, sitting up and squaring my shoulders as I reached for my clothes, trying to act as normal as possible. We had orders and obligations, and I couldn't afford to be distracted by what happened between us. But gods, it was hard to ignore the lingering ache in my body, between my legs, the reminder of how thoroughly Lorcan had claimed me.

I ran my hands through my messy head of hair and braided it back to have somewhat of a semblance of neatness. With my nightgown replaced by my gear, I slipped out of the tent, the early morning air crisp against my skin, my boots crunching on the fallen leaves. As I approached the campfire, I spotted Lorcan among the rest of Maeve's blood sworn—all gathered around, the smell of campfire smoke filling my senses.

The moment I stepped to where the rest sat, Fenrys' head snapped up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, well," he drawled, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. "Look who decided to join us."

I forced a casual smile, pretending I hadn't noticed the way the rest of the males exchanged looks. "Good morning," I said, keeping my voice steady, though I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I kept my eyes off Lorcan as I took a seat beside the white wolf, ignoring the tension in my stomach that was somewhere between knots and butterflies.

Lorcan didn't say anything, but I could feel his presence in front of me, his tall frame looming over the fire as he flipped something on the skillet. I couldn't tell what it was amidst the flames, but with the way Vaughan and Rowan were wincing something told me it was a bird one of the others seemed good enough to eat.

Rowan raised a brow at me, his sharp gaze flicking between Lorcan and me before he smirked. "You sleep well?" he asked innocently, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed him.

I shot him a sidelong glance. "As well as I could, considering someone was snoring."

Fenrys snorted, nudging Gavriel on the other side of him, who was trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. "Must've been some noise last night," Fenrys said under his breath, not bothering to hide the grin that tugged at his lips.

Heat surged to my face, and I glared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Gavriel gave a soft cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, while Fenrys outright cackled. "Don't worry," Fenrys said, flashing me a wink. "No judgments here."

My face felt like it was on fire, and I was sure my expression was betraying me, but I shot back, "How sweet of you, Fenrys."

"You know, if you ever grow bored of the brooding male you could always come join me in my tent instead," Fenrys added, leaning back on his palms with his signature smirk. "I could show you what it's like to really be loud," He suggested and I swore Lorcan's knuckles turned white he was gripping his hunting knife so tightly. But he remained steady, didn't so much as look at us as he awaited my reply.

"Tempting, Fenrys, but I think I'll stick with what I have. Once you go tall, dark, and brooding, it's hard to go back." I say, flicking my gaze past the fire to Lorcan, whose shoulders visibly relaxed.

Fenrys clenched at his chest, pretending to be mortally wounded. "Ah, so it's like that, is it?" he quipped, but the glint in his eye said he was far from offended. "I guess I'll just have to find solace in knowing I could've changed your life forever."

I grinned, leaning back on my hands as I shot him a mock-sympathetic look. "You'll survive, Fenrys. I hear rejection builds character."

He was about to retort when Rowan chimed in, his deep voice filled with dry amusement. "I don't know, Fenrys. After last night, it sounds like she found someone more than capable of showing her a good time."

My cheeks flamed as I glared at Rowan, though I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You too, huh?" I shot back.

Before Fenrys could continue the teasing, Lorcan finally broke his silence, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "Don't you have better things to do than gossip about things that don't concern you?" He still didn't look up from the skillet, but the hard set of his jaw and the tension in his broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Vaughan, silent as ever, gave a half-shrug, tossing a stick into the fire as he added his two cents, his voice calm but amused. "Considering the noise last night, it kind of does concern all of us."

A chorus of snickers followed, and even Gavriel cracked a grin. My face went up in flames, and I buried it in my hands. "You all need better hobbies," I muttered into my palms, but it did nothing to stop the laughter ringing through the camp.

I turned my head just enough to catch Lorcan's eyes as he finally glanced over at me, the firelight flickering in his gaze. The corner of my lips lifted in a challenging smirk.

"If you lot are done, breakfast is ready." He moved and passed me a plate, his warm hand brushing against mine for just a second—a flicker of something unspoken passing between us—before he turned back to the skillet.

The knowing looks from the others didn't stop throughout breakfast. Fenrys continued to make sly comments, Rowan smirked every time Lorcan so much as glanced at me, and even Gavriel, the most serious of the group, couldn't completely hide his amusement.

I had managed to block all of their comments and snickering remarks out, but for some reason, I wasn't able to shake the stare Lorcan had pinned on me.

I looked over to him and for a moment his eyes flicked down to my lips, a challenge. I smirked, beckoning him to test the silent boundaries. He didn't move, but he didn't look away either, and something told me we were nowhere near finished with each other.

Comment or reblog with a “💋” to be added to the kinktober taglist!

Kinktober Taglist: @a-courtof-azriel @rosecobollway @bookwormysblog @whataenginerd @sassyangel16 @lorosette @92404-blog1 @skittslackoffilter @scorpioriesling @pey2618 @scarsandallaz @azysmate @iluvyewman-blog @obliviouslittleminx @hailqueenconquer @buckysfavoritedoll @fourthwing4ever

[lvnleah]

Month Two

word count: 2.3k

find the masterlist here!

June 19th 2023 | 2 months.

Leah stood by the door, suitcase in hand, her brow furrowed with worry. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked for the third time that morning.

You nodded, laughing at her concern. "We'll be fine, Le. It's just a few days. Finley and I have got this."

She glanced down at Finley, who was lying in your arms wide awake. "I know, but it's my first time leaving you two alone. What if he needs me?"

"Then we'll call you," you said gently. "It's just a camp. You'll be back before you know it."

Leah was leaving for a lionesses preparation camp. For the next three days, she was going to be away at St George’s Park and you were planning on joining her at the weekend. 

After that weekend she was spending another week on camp and you were going to come back home before joining her at the weekend again. You had arranged that you would join her in the Netherlands for the week after to join her on that instead of being apart.  

Neither of you had been away from Finley yet so it was a big thing for Leah considering that she’d only get to see him on the weekends for the next two weeks. Finley was eleven weeks old, two and a half months, and leaving the newborn stage, something you’d cried about a lot over the past week. 

He was now more alert and his little legs and arms would kick all the time, especially when you cracked a smile from him. He’d found his little voice too, he had learnt how to coo and whenever you talked to him he’d coo back in response. 

He had also learnt how to grip things, something you didn’t enjoy while breastfeeding because he found it great to pull on your hair. Whenever he was cuddled close to Leah, he’d grip her necklace with his little hands. 

Leah sighed and leaned in for one more kiss. "Alright, call me if you need anything. I mean it, pretty girl."

"We will," you reassured her, your hand resting on Finley's tiny back. "Now go, or you'll be late."

Leah pressed a kiss to Finley’s forehead before stealing another kiss from you. As soon as she was gone, you turned to Finley with a smile. "Alright, little guy. It's just you and me."

Finley gurgled in response, his blue eyes which were identical to Leah’s stared up at you with curiosity. You spent the day following the usual routine: feeding, napping, and playing. Finley was starting to develop a more predictable schedule, which made things a bit easier.

That evening, you sat down with Finley in your lap, his favourite blanket draped over him. You pulled out your phone and started a video call with Leah. When her face appeared on the screen, Finley's eyes lit up, and he let out a delighted coo.

"Hey, there's my boy!" Leah said, her face softening with a smile.

Finley’s back was pressed against your stomach, and as Leah began to talk his face turned into her signature frown. You could tell he was confused as to why his Mumma was on the phone screen and not with him in person. 

"We miss you," you said, your hand playing with Finley’s tiny one. 

"I miss you both too," Leah replied. "But it's so good to see you. How's he been today?"

"He's been great. Lots of smiles and giggles. He's really starting to show his personality."

Leah nodded, "I can't wait to hold him again. And you too. It feels like ages.”

"Leah, it's been six hours!” You laughed, “You seriously can’t go six hours without your wife and baby?”

Leah chuckled, "It's harder than I thought it would be. But I'm glad you're both doing okay."

Finley, now more interested in the screen, stared at Leah through the screen. "Looks like someone is confused," you laughed. 

Leah's smile widened. "Hey, little man! Are you good for Mummy?”

Finley responded with a small, curious coo, reaching out towards the screen as if trying to touch Leah. You gently held his tiny hand, smiling at his reaction.

"He's been an angel," you said, bouncing Finley lightly on your knee. "He's adjusting well. I think it's me who misses you more."

Leah's eyes softened even further. "I miss you too. But you're doing an amazing job. I always knew you would."

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "But I'll be glad when we're all back together."

The call continued for a little longer, with Leah sharing stories from her day and you updating her on Finley's latest antics, Keira popped in to say hi for a minute before leaving for a shower. 

After the call ended, you began your nightly routine, bathing Finley and getting him into his pyjamas. As you rocked him in your arms, you started humming a lullaby. But tonight, something was off. Finley was unusually fussy, squirming and crying despite your best efforts to soothe him.

"It's okay, Bubba," you whispered, patting his back gently. "You're just missing Mumma, huh?"

You tried everything—singing his favourite songs, rocking him in different positions, even walking around the house with him—but Finley continued to cry, his little face scrunched up. Your own exhaustion was beginning to set in. 

"Come on, Finley," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It’s okay, bubs."

Finally, you sank into the rocking chair in the corner of your room, holding Finley close. You pulled out your phone and hesitated for a moment before dialling Leah's number. When she answered, her face was immediately filled with concern.

"Hey, pretty girl, what’s wrong talk to me.” She said, quickly sitting up in her bed. 

"He won’t settle, Le," you admitted, your voice wavering. "He's fussy tonight. I can't seem to settle him."

Leah's expression softened with empathy. "Have you tried the white noise machine?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I've tried everything. I think he just misses you."

Usually, Leah was the one that settled him to sleep after you had fed him. You had found a routine that worked for you both during the evenings, especially if Leah had been training or out all day. 

Leah sighed. "I miss him too. Let me try talking to him again."

You adjusted the phone so Leah's face was visible to Finley. "Hey, Bubba," Leah cooed. "Mumma's here. It's okay, baby."

Finley's cries quieted a bit at the sound of her voice, and he stared at the screen with wide, tear-filled eyes. Leah continued to talk to him softly, her voice a soothing presence even through the phone. Gradually, his cries stopped, and he started to calm down.

"You're doing great," Leah said to you, her voice filled with love and encouragement. "Just keep holding him close. He’ll fall asleep while you’re rocking him.”

With Leah's help, you eventually managed to get Finley to drift off to sleep. You carefully placed him in his crib next to your bed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

"Thank you," you whispered to Leah, your own eyes brimming with tears.

"You’re doing great, pretty girl," she replied softly. "I love you both so much."

"We love you too," you said.

You ended the call and watched Finley sleep peacefully, scrolling on your phone for a little bit before drifting off to sleep yourself. 

The next few days passed in a blurb. After the first day of Leah being gone, you started to manage things by yourself and Finley was better at falling asleep without her. Thursday afternoon, you managed to take Finley out for a walk at the local park and grab yourself a coffee too. 

As you arrived home, your phone rang. You smiled once you saw it was Leah before answering it. Her face appeared on your phone, you heard the chatter around her coming from the canteen as Beth sat beside her and Grace rested her head on top of Leah’s. 

"Hey, you three," you smiled, adjusting Finley's blanket as he lay in his stroller.

"Hey!" Beth said. "How's my favourite boy doing?"

"He's great," you replied, flipping the camera around to a sleeping Finley in his pram. "We just got some fresh air. He loves being outside."

"Look at him, he’s adorable!" Grace said with a grin. "I miss you, Leah’s annoying.”

"I miss you too,” you laughed, “Le, leave the poor girl alone.”

Leah rolled her eyes, pushing Grace off her. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"We can't wait either," you said, feeling a pang of longing. "How's camp going?"

"It's hard, but good," Leah replied. "Everyone's working hard.”

Grace nudged Leah playfully. "She's been talking about you two non-stop."

"That's because I miss them," Leah said, nudging Grace back.

Beth laughed, "We all miss you guys. But we're keeping Leah out of trouble."

"Good," you said with a smile. "Make sure she doesn't work too hard."

"Always," Grace replied, winking.

As the call continued, you chatted about your day, shared some laughs, and updated Leah on Finley's latest milestones. The conversation you had through the screen made the distance a little more bearable.

Eventually, it was time to say goodbye. "I love you," Leah said, blowing a kiss towards the screen.

"Love you too," you replied, blowing a kiss back. "See you tomorrow."

Leah smiled. "Tomorrow can't come soon enough."

After ending the call, the rest of the evening went smoothly, with Finley drifting off to sleep after a peaceful bath and some gentle rocking. You managed to get some much-needed rest yourself, knowing tomorrow would be an early start. 

The next morning arrived early with anticipation. You packed up a small overnight bag Finley and a large suitcase that would do you for the weekend. You quickly double-checked everything, ensuring you had everything you needed for the weekend at St. George's Park. Finley's favourite stuffed toy, his snug blanket, and a few extra outfits were all carefully tucked away.

By midday, you were on the road with Amanda, the excitement building as you neared the training camp. Finley, snug in his car seat, babbled happily to himself, his little feet kicking in excitement before he fell asleep. 

Arriving at the camp, you saw Leah waiting outside the building, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you. She rushed forward, enveloping you both in a hug. 

“I missed you so much," she murmured, into your neck before pulling back and kissing your lips. 

You savoured the kiss, something you’d missed over the past few days, “I missed you too, love.”

She rounded the back of the car to the other side to unstrap Finley when you and Amanda got the suitcases out. 

Finley, recognizing his mumma, let out an excited coo. She took him into her arms, holding him close and pressing kisses to his cheeks. "Hey, Bubba. Mumma missed you so much."

You watched them, heart swelling with love “He missed you too," you said, wrapping an arm around Leah.

The weekend was a blissful reunion. You spent time watching Leah train, proud of her hard work despite a few sleepless nights. In the evenings, you enjoyed quiet moments together, catching up on the days you'd spent apart and cherishing the time as a family.

On Sunday evening, as you prepared to head back home, Leah held Finley close, not wanting to let go. "I hate this part," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

"We'll be back soon," you reassured her, giving her a lingering kiss. "And next week, we'll be together in the Netherlands."

Leah smiled, nodding. "I can't wait."

You said your goodbyes, promising to call every night, and made your way back home. The journey felt bittersweet, but the anticipation of the upcoming reunion kept your spirits high.

The week passed quickly with the familiar routine. Each night, you and Leah connected through video calls, sharing your day and keeping each other close despite the distance. Finley grew more accustomed to seeing Leah on the screen, his little face lighting up each time.

Finally, the day arrived to join Leah in the Netherlands. You packed carefully, ensuring you had everything you needed for the trip. As you boarded the flight, excitement bubbled within you. Finley was a champ during the journey, his wide eyes taking in the new surroundings.

Arriving in the Netherlands, you were greeted by Leah and Keira. Leah took Finley into her arms while Keira helped you with your suitcases. 

The reunion was everything you had hoped for and more. Leah held Finley as if she’d never let him go, her eyes shining with happiness and relief. Keira cracked a joke about being the official luggage carrier, making you all laugh, and easing the tension of the past week. 

The next few days in the Netherlands felt like a dream. Between Leah's training sessions and games, the three of you explored the city streets, enjoying every stolen moment of togetherness. Finley’s delighted coos filled the air as Leah pushed his stroller, the two of them sharing a connection that no distance could weaken.

Leah's teammates often joined you, bringing a lively energy to your small family outings. One evening, as the sun set over the canals, Leah wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. Finley slept soundly in his stroller beside you. 

“This is perfect,” Leah whispered, placing a kiss on your temple. 

You nodded, leaning into her. “It really is. I’m so proud of you, Leah. You’re balancing it all so well—being an amazing mum and smashing it in football.”

Leah kissed your temple again., her smile softening. “I couldn’t do it without you, pretty girl. You’re even better, doing it alone while I’m gone.”

The trip ended all too soon, and before you knew it, you were back home, settling into the rhythm of everyday life again. No matter where Leah’s career took her, or how many miles separated you, one thing remained certain: home was where the three of you were together. And that was all that mattered.