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sunshine-zenith · 3 days ago

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On my daily rewatch of anw I'm thinking about how people thought Hazel and Dev should've swapped fairies because of how unfair the godparent system was and how Dev needed more experienced godparents or how Peri should've been assigned an easy case and while that may be true, I'm just thinking how that swap would have suited the kids' needs.

With Dev, yes, he was a hard case and probably should've had godparent who had more experience with children like him, but he is a child who is lacking in the parental department and needed someone to fill that role.

Same is true for Hazel. She would have been more suited for a first-time godparent, but what she needed and missed the most was her brother and who do we know who has experience with being someone's godbrother? Peri.

I'm probably just rephrasing stuff here so this probably didn't need to be said. Everything more or less worked out for everyone and eventually for others (hopefully).

Anon I have been rotating this ask around in my head since it popped up into my ask box

Confession: I and many others have thought about the similarities between Peri and Hazel, and pointed out that Dev was not a case for a beginner, but I haven’t seriously considered a full out fairy swap until now because I’m actually very fond of the Hazel-Cosmo-Wanda dynamic and the Dev-Peri tragedy dynamic

Still… yeah, you’re kinda right. Dev genuinely would’ve been better suited for experienced godparents, and he might actually benefit from Cosmo and Wanda specifically because A) there’s two of them and B) they’re very parental with their godkids. And Hazel — having Hazel, the kid who misses her brother so much it tipped over the Needs A Fairy edge, be paired up with the godparent who lost his older brother is kinda brilliant

It kinda makes me wonder about how things would be different if we got Hazel-Peri and Dev-Cosmo-Wanda…

Heads up, this gets long

The first thing I wonder about isn’t so much the dynamics, but rather who would be the protagonist? I adore Hazel as a main character, but Cosmo and Wanda are the FOP difacto mascots. They’re the ones who get the cameos and appear in the reboots/sequels. They can exist independently from Timmy/Hazel/Chloe/Viv. If they’re Dev’s fairies, then Dev would be the main POV character. And like. I love Dev, I do, but he’s an asshole. I understand why and I’m down to justify anything he does, but he’s a dick. Plus, well, he’s also super sad. It’d be very hard to make him a fun POV character, especially pre/mid-character development, at least without switching the genre from Heart Felt Comedy Aimed At Children/All Ages to something much darker and more mature. He’s a great side character/deuteragonist, but it would be a Commitment if we followed him 95% of the time

(And before anyone comes at me about Timmy also being The Worst, a lot of that was flanderization. By the time he gets that that point, let’s be real a lot of people stopped watching, and even then he at least had half a dozen I Love Yous and sweet moments with Cosmo and Wanda to make the commitment worth it to the audience.)

Hazel and Peri

So if we keep Hazel as the lead and Peri as her fairy, how’d that work, writing wise? Do we keep his introduction the same and hope the audience is fine with a Sequel Babies Series. Or (and this is just me having fun), do we hypothetically cut out the part where he Introduces Himself With His Deadname For The Audience’s Sake and just hint at him as being Poof from the original series. Then, after Founder’s Day, we introduce Cosmo and Wanda as Dev’s fairies, and the Peri Is Grown Up Poof thing is treated as a Big Reveal, a la Author Of The Journals from Gravity Falls

Now that out of the way, how do I think these dynamics would work, and how would it affect Dev and Hazel’s relationship?

Like you said, Hazel and Peri connecting over missing brothers is a great starting point, and Peri getting to be the big brother for once would be so much fun to watch. Plus, and I’ve pointed this out before, they’re both rule followers (I can totally see a gag of them bonding over Hazel’s DMV love), though Hazel is willing to play things by ear, while Peri gets majorly stressed/anxious/high strung when rule breaking is in question — in fact, that could be a fun angle to some potential conflicts. Hazel makes a wish, but she doesn’t know how to find the words for what she wants, and since Peri is so new, he doesn’t have the experience to confidently guess. He hesitates, both of them get caught in a mini Anxiety Loop, and escalating event happening in the background force them into action, and through hijinx, they both receive character development

I can also see the Antony thing leading to conflict for them — Hazel’s brother is gone, but he comes back. He visits. They reconnect. Meanwhile, Timmy’s gone gone. His memory is wiped. I can see Peri occasionally accidentally fumbling Hazel’s missing Antony with his own likely grief over Timmy. Maybe after another missed flight or phone call, Peri tries to be “supportive” in the same way he tried to cheer Dev up at his birthday, and he accidentally says something that makes Hazel not only miss her old life, but thing she’ll never have any sort of relationship with Antony again.

Or maybe Peri does handle it well until Antony comes back. Then, alongside Hazel trying to recreate the past, Peri gets overwhelmed with jealousy, like he was when Irep tried taking his place with Dev but dialed up by 10. He worries he’ll lose his first godkid AND be fumbling with reawakened grief

(Plus hey, I can actually see this scenario as a good way to justify bringing Timmy back. Maybe Hazel could even include Timmy’s memories as part of her Rule Free Wish in the finally)

Basically Hazel and Peri have so much in common that if they were the main duo, those similarities could lead to so many bonding moments AND dramatic moments where through being mirrors for each other they accidentally hurt each other and help each other to grow as people

(It makes me wonder how Peri would hide himself in Hazel’s day to day life. Peri becomes inanimate objects for Dev, sure, but he doesn’t have a consistent object he hides as. Maybe Peri could have a human disguise, pretending to be a recent college grad who moves into Hazel’s building? Or maybe he could be a “new pet rock”?)

(Also I have a lot of thoughts on C&W being disguised as pets for Timmy and neighbors for Hazel, but that’s a ramble for another day.)

Dev, Cosmo, and Wanda

So the first question is how would Dev become Cosmo and Wanda’s godkid? They weren’t actually assigned to Hazel, they basically just adopted her. Maybe, Cosmo and Wanda could still be traveling and just end up in Dimmadelphia around Founder’s Day, and through their observations, they seen Dev is going through it and come out of retirement for him. This could also lead to a Cookie situation with Dev instead of Hazel (imagine Dev pretending to be a lawyer, there would 100% be a gag of him acting as every shady lawyer stereotype you know.)

I can see Dev still lashing out at them, probably still demanding perfection for hollow wishes since he can’t get what he really wants, BUT C&W would cause mischief as they misinterpret his wishes. I can also see him acting unimpressed/impatient when they take him on little side quests to meet with fairies that specialize in the things he wishes for. He’s have to defrost to them, and they (likely especially Cosmo) would push his buttons. Dev would also probably deny having fun during these adventures. I’m sure he’d eventually come to see them the same way he saw Irep)

A potential conflict could come from the fact that a lot of Dev’s wishes are by nature spiteful/fueled by pride. Again, major Dev apologist here, we’re talking about the kid who wished for a an evil ghost to come from the depths of hell after having a fairy for less than a week. C&W would still grant his wishes, but they wouldn’t approve of him being a bully, and would probably try really hard to get him to realize the error of his ways through these wishes

It’s likely that Dev wouldn’t even get involved with the anti-fairies here. If he did, I can only see this after Dev specifically makes a wish relating to his father loving him, which C&W can’t grant, or something similar — a breakdown after a big, direct moment instead of a breakdown after months of little, indirect moments

I can also see him both clinging to them as parental figures and resenting them as misplaced anger and sadness over his neglectful dad

I can also see him seeing Peri (and maybe even Timmy) as a threat here — Peri is their son, who they adore like Dev wishes Dale adored him. And since Peri isn’t Dev’s godparent here and therefore doesn’t feel the need to look out for/do right by him, Peri would like sass him harder or treat him as an annoyance, an extension of any tension that comes up when C&W their clingy thing. In a scenario where Dev still ended up under an anti-fairy’s influence, he might even wish Peri was Nothing, or still kidnap Peri here out of misplaced resentment

Dev and Hazel

I feel like swapping fairies would also affect their relationship. Part of their comes from Dev’s jealousy over Hazel’s relationship with C&W — she has two while he only has one, she has a positive relationship with her while his “can’t do anything right” (can’t cross the red tape of Da Rules, doesn’t have the experience/comfort level to go buckwild with wishes/has parents that love him/etc). Here, that wouldn’t be a problem— Hazel wouldn’t care that Dev has two fairies instead of one, and C&W would probably have an easier time getting through Dev’s defenses. It’s possible that a lot of their fights and negative interactions just wouldn’t happen here, and if they did, it would be related to Hazel wanting Dev to be nicer to C&W/Peri.

#ask #anon #cosmo cosma #wanda fairywinkle cosma #dev dimmadome #hazel wells #peri cosma #fop #fop a new wish #fairly oddparents #spoilers

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 day ago

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Bets & Bargains - Part 14

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley go on your seventh date, this one at a fair, and both end up winning more than once.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley felt like he was on cloud nine.

It took him another hour to get out of bed when you let him fuck you bare yesterday morning. He still couldn’t believe he had managed to save his relationship with you, and now it seemed like it was stronger than ever.

Thank fuck for that, because as of right now, you were the only good thing he had in his life, and he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had lost you for good.

Since going on impulsive dates was kinda yours and his thing, Bradley remembered this pop up fair that always came to town this time of year, and it only runs for two weeks. This weekend would be the last chance to go, and he knew for a fact that you’d have fun there, so he decided to ask you if you wanted to go with him.

His arm was draped around your shoulders as he walked you to your second class of the day. “I wanna do something this weekend,” he started off casually, not wanting to sound like he had been thinking of this idea since last night when you fell asleep in his arms.

You looked up at him with your pretty smile and a raise of your brow. “Another date? What is this, like, our sixth one?”

“Seventh,” he corrected and smirked at the quiet laugh he pulled from you. “And going on random dates is our thing, so don’t act so surprised.”

You laughed again and shook your head, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as you walked with him. “I love going on dates with you,” you murmured, kissing him again before pulling away. “So what are you thinking about for this weekend?”

“How about something new?” he suggested, giving you a side glance as he guided you along the campus. Bradley knew your schedule pretty fucking well now, so he knew where your classes were, when they started and when they ended, which was a good thing, since he liked walking you to them. “There’s a fair that’s happening in town. I’ve heard that it’s pretty fun and the tickets aren’t super fucking expensive either.”

Your eyes lit up and you stopped walking, making him stop as well. “A fair?” you echoed, jumping slightly when he nodded. “I love fairs! Oh, they’re so fun, I’ve never been to one that wasn’t fun.”

Bradley lifted a brow, his lips curving upwards as he looked down at your excited expression. “Yeah? You’ve been to a lot?”

You shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. “A few here and there,” you answered, “This is so fun. When are we going?”

“So you want to go then? It’s not even a question anymore?” he teased, laughing at your eye roll.

“Of course it’s not a question,” you replied, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. “Fairs are so romantic, Bradley. Especially when you’re with the right person.”

Bradley lifted a brow again, following after you as you started to pull him along the sidewalk. “You better be talking about me, babes,”

The look over your shoulder you gave him told him all he needed to know, but your words helped too. “Of course I’m talking about you, flyboy,” you laughed, turning to face him once you were outside the doors of the creative arts building. “Everything feels right with you.”

For some reason, that had Bradley blushing like a fucking teenager. That was probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to him, and it just made him adore you even more. So he didn’t respond with words, instead he just leaned down and kissed you, his hand coming up to hold your jaw. “Have a good class,” he murmured in between soft kisses before he finally stepped away from you. “Think of me.”

The smile you gave him brought that blush back to his face. “I always am,”

Bradley wanted to take you to the fair, and you weren’t sure he was even aware of just how perfect of a date that sounded to you.

And while you were a bit lost on just how many dates you’ve gone on with him up until this point, Bradley knew the exact number, and you were definitely sure he wasn’t aware of how attractive that is.

Then there was the whole no condom thing, and that had your smile growing. Sure, it was kind of an irresponsible decision, but you really needed to be as close as humanly possible with Bradley yesterday, especially since you had discovered that the whole Briana thing was just a massive misunderstanding. You were so relieved that you had been wrong about him being like every other guy, and he had proved it to you so sweetly, you needed to feel him all over you.

And it felt fucking amazing, and you’re on the pill, so was it really a bad decision? It sure didn’t feel like one.

You were all giddy when you went into your class, your happy smile definitely not directed at Clarke personally, but he gave you one back as if it was, which was just fine by you. After having such a terrible start to the week, you would gladly smile at everyone you saw since things had only gotten a lot better since Monday morning.

You sat down in your usual seat, smiling at the girl already sitting in the one beside yours. She was pretty, had long blonde hair and hazel eyes, and for some reason, you had never shared more than a few conversations with her. She seemed nice enough, and you were seriously lacking in the friend department at the moment, so maybe you’d try to talk to her more often.

Really, anyone was better than Sam at this point.

So when she smiled at you and held up the bag of plain chips she was snacking on before the class started, you grinned back and took one.

When the class was over, you packed up your things and got Delia’s, your table partner, number saved as a contact on your phone. You ended up talking to her quite a bit during class, and you were right, she is really nice and seems like a great friend to have. And you were in no position to turn down what could be a pretty awesome friendship.

She offered to hang out for a bit after class, and you agreed, so you followed after her when she began walking towards the door. You had a few hours to kill before you had to go to your yoga class, and usually you would be spending it with Bradley, but hanging out with Delia would give you more time to get to know her better, and you could already tell that you and her have a lot in common.

Before you could leave, Clarke called out to you, making you pause. “Can you stay for a second?” he asked, and you furrowed your brows, giving Delia an apologetic look and a gesture that told her that you’d meet her out in the hall in a minute.

“Sure,” you answer, walking back into the room. You weren’t sure why he wanted to talk to you; you hadn’t handed in any assignments this week since he hadn’t given out any, and you made sure to always pay attention (or at least pretend to if your mind was elsewhere - like on your boyfriend) in class, so you knew you weren’t in trouble or anything.

Clarke smiled at you, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. “How are you doing?” he asked, his brows coming together in what looked like mock concern, but then again, you didn’t know him well enough to assume that.

“I’m…fine,” you replied, giving him a confused smile back as you shifted on your feet. That was it? That’s all he wanted? To know how you were doing?

“You sure?” he pressed, crossing his arms as he looked down at the papers that were scattered on the surface of his desk. “In Tuesday’s class you seemed off. Quieter…less talkative. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Oh. Well that was kinda fucking embarrassing. Monday and Tuesday were really bad days for you since you weren’t sure where you stood with Bradley at the time, but you had thought you hid it pretty well. Clearly not. And now your teacher was asking about you as if you were back in high school. “Oh,” you laughed, either out of nerves of pure embarrassment, or both. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I was just…I had a really bad start to the week. I’m totally fine now.”

You thought he’d laugh it off too and leave it at that, but then he leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Are you sure?” he asked again, his thighs spread a bit and making his slacks look two sizes too small.

Okay, this was getting weird now, and you were definitely beginning to feel uncomfortable. While you appreciated his concern, you had already told him three times now that you were fine, but he was still pushing it. And you didn’t think you had bonded with him enough for him to feel the need to be this persistent. You wanted to just nod at him and quickly turn and leave, the need to just get out of this classroom the only thing on your mind right now.

But he continued before you could make your escape. “Because I’m here for you if you’re not,” he said, giving you another smile that was more of a sly smirk compared to the other ones. “You can always come to me if something’s bothering you or anything like that.”

Not that he was very high up on the list of the people you’d go to if something was bothering you, but now he wasn’t even in the vicinity of said list. You were so on edge and it happened so quickly, you physically couldn’t relax your tense shoulders as you nodded slowly and gripped the strap of your bag. “Right,” you mumbled, forcing out a tight smile and a nod as you stepped away from his desk. “That’s…nice, Clarke…I appreciate that.”

You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t exactly go off on your teacher because he hadn’t done anything wrong except express his concern about you. But still, why you felt so fucking awkward and…gross was beyond you.

“No problem,” he said, and the look he gave you had you holding back a cringe as you turned and headed for the door without saying goodbye.

In the hall, Delia was waiting for you with a kind yet confused smile. “What did he want?”

You debated on whether or not to tell her, but didn’t know if you were making a big deal out of nothing at all. Really, all Clarke did was voice his concern, there was nothing wrong with that, and you were already feeling better now that you were out of that classroom.

So you decided to brush it off for now, and you also decided to not tell Bradley since you were sure he’d make a big deal out of it too, and the last thing you needed right now was more drama.

Bradley hadn’t seen you since he walked you to class yesterday.

You texted him and said that you were going to hang out with a girl from your class before you had to go to yoga, so he didn’t get the chance to see you for the rest of the day.

It was Friday evening now, and he was waiting in the Jeep as you got ready for your fair date. Bradley still couldn’t believe how much you had changed him and his life in so little time. He had never considered himself to be one of those boyfriends who wanted to go out on dates all the time, let alone be the one to suggest most of them (and keep track of them), but here he is; about to go on his seventh date with you in three weeks.

His seventh.

Who the fuck was he?

When he turned his head and saw you walk out of your building, his jaw dropped just a bit as he took in your, for lack of better words, fucking hot outfit. You were wearing black jeans, a white crop top and ankle boots, and his blue flannel was draped over your shoulders, your hands barely visible as the shirt was way bigger on you than it was on him, and he felt his mouth go dry.

You looked absolutely stunning, like you always did, and Bradley was quickly coming to the realization after seeing you in his jersey, then his sweats and shirt earlier this week, and now his flannel, that he fucking loved it when you wore his clothes.

And you were going to wear his shirt on your date? Fuck, he wanted to pick you up and carry you right back to your bedroom.

He had meant to be a gentleman and open the door for you, but by the time he picked his jaw up off the floor, you were already sliding onto the seat next to him with a pretty smile on your lips, and a floral scent filled his senses. “Hi,” you greeted as you shut the door and leaned back, grinning as you looked at the seat warmer button that was switched on.

At least he remembered to turn that on before he was completely floored by how hot his girlfriend is.

“Hey,” he said back, looking you up and down. You looked even better up close, and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip before he let out a low whistle. “Damn. You look fucking hot.”

You laughed, a mix of surprise and appreciation as you put on your seatbelt. “Thanks. You do too,” you blushed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. When he made no move to start driving, you gave him a confused look as your gaze flickering between his eyes and the windshield. “What’s wrong?”

“You missed,” he answered as if you had asked him the easiest question he’d ever heard. When your brows furrowed even more, Bradley pointed to his mouth, and you rolled your eyes before leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

His hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, making you smile against his lips before you pulled away. “There. Better?”

“Much,” he nodded before shifting the Jeep into drive and pulling away from your building.

It was still light out when Bradley managed to find a spot to park in the very back of the parking lot, which was really just a massive field of gravel and dirt he couldn’t wait to pick out of his tires later.

The fair was also really big, so compared to all the cars you and he passed on the way to the front gate, the fair ground itself didn’t seem too packed since there were countless places and attractions around that ensured there wasn’t just a big crowd.

Bradley’s fingers were loosely laced with yours as he gave you free rein of deciding where the two of you were going or what you were going to do. He honestly didn’t care what you did, his attention mainly on how gorgeous you looked in his flannel - which was so obviously his, he could see a few jealous stares from guys who seemed to think they had any chance with you as you pulled him along.

When you suddenly turned and started tugging him with you towards the arcade, he laughed, because you were probably the only person he’d ever met that would start with the indoor arcade instead of the ferris wheel or the dart game.

A few minutes later, his forearm was braced on the top of some coin machine, his other hand holding a rather heavy bag of arcade coins that you were currently inserting into the machine over and over again. For every coin you knocked off the pile, you got five prize tickets, and you seemed to be having a blast doing just that while Bradley watched you.

He was content doing anything you wanted to, and if you wanted to blow the entire bag on just this ‘game’, he wouldn’t stop you, especially since you looked absolutely adorable every time the machine printed out a stack of tickets for you.

“So, flyboy,” you said, bringing his focus away from your pretty face as he gave you his full attention. “Have you decided on what your call sign is going to be once you become a pilot?”

Bradley grinned, because you were the first person who had brought this topic back up since he told you about it. Eli and Wes and even Briana just listened with fake interest when he told them what he wanted to do for a career in the future, and then they never asked about it again.

This was just another thing that made you a hundred times better than all three of them combined. You actually listened, and you actually wanted to hear about his plans for the future. “I thought we both decided on that together,” he answered, smirking at the way you quickly looked over at him with wide eyes.

“Rooster?” you asked for clarification, and he was immediately brought back to his fourth date with you, when you and he had gotten each other off fully clothed in the front seat of his Jeep in the back of a parking garage after being way too distracted to get even halfway through the movie. “Seriously? Your call sign is going to be Rooster?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking it upon himself to insert another coin into the machine since you were completely focused on him now. “One, because it has the double O like my dad’s did, and two, because you came up with it.”

Once the coin had fallen into the machine, Bradley turned to face you but was immediately gifted the sweet feeling of your mouth on his as you kissed him hard, right there in the middle of the arcade. “That is one of the sweetest, most sexiest fucking things anyone has ever said to me,” you mumbled, looking so serious as you caressed his jaw in both hands. “And I’m not even joking.”

Bradley smirked again, because he knew he had another thing to hold above your piece of shit ex. Even though he’d never met Luke, he still was going to call him that, because he was a piece of shit. And he let you go. What a fucking idiot.

Before Bradley could reply, the machine lit up from beside him, flashing yellow a few times before a bucket load of tickets began pouring out. He was so distracted by your surprise kiss, he didn’t realize that the coin he had put in ended up knocking over the pile and rewarding him with what looked like a never ending string of tickets.

“Woah, baby, I think you won,” you laughed, stepping away from the machine as it continued to spurt out tickets onto the carpeted floor of the arcade. “I didn’t even know you could win this game.”

Bradley shrugged, leaning down to pick up the copious amount of tickets in one hand. “Guess I’m just that good,” he teased, trying to give them to you as he added, “Or maybe it’s because you’re my good luck charm.”

You blushed then shook your head when he tried to hand them to you again. “No, they’re yours. You won those,” you protested, and Bradley laughed.

“Babes, I put one coin in this thing,” he pointed out, “You put in, like, thirty. They’re yours.”

Your smile was poorly hidden as you finally took them from him before leaning in and giving him another chaste kiss. “Well, thank you,” you mumbled, taking his hand in your free one. “Now we can move on from this game.”

Bradley was so fucking sweet, you wanted to kiss him every second of every hour.

How could you not have realized that this is what a normal, healthy relationship feels like? Why had you put so much of your life into your relationship with your ex when he really didn’t treat you right?

Whatever the reason, you were more than happy to have found Bradley, because he was replacing all your bad experiences with amazing ones, and he had quickly become your favorite person.

After you had used up all of the arcade coins and won a fuckton of tickets, you kept two and traded the rest of them in for a bunch of random prizes, like a t-shirt with the fair’s name on it, one of those tall cups that come with a weird straw that made it take forever to actually sip anything out of, and a few other small things Bradley had picked out that neither of you would ever need.

He offered to run everything back to the Jeep, so you stayed by the game booths and browsed them until he got back, and once he did, you pulled him over to the target game after a certain prize caught your eye. “Are you any good?” You ask, nodding towards the plastic gun set on the counter of the booth.

“At this?” Bradley asked, looking at the various targets along the back wall. “I guess now is the time to admit that I’m kind of a bad shot.”

His words surprised you, since he wanted to be an aviator and fly missions in a fighter jet, and that definitely required him to be a good shot, especially in the air. And you could tell that he was also embarrassed as his neck turned a bit red at his revelation. “Really? I mean, I might be wrong, but don’t you want to join the military? Or are you just a really good liar and only said that to impress me?”

Your words were playful and teasing as you took it upon yourself to pick up the gun. Bradley rolled his eyes as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it, I just-” he was promptly cut off when you aimed and fired one shot at the center of each target without batting an eye.

When you turned to face him again, you nearly cackled at the look of complete shock on your boyfriend’s face. “You just what?” You asked, casually setting the gun down as he gaped at you.

“How did you…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering between your own and the targets. “You just…I’m sorry, but at the risk of sounding like a complete jackass, how the fuck did you do that?”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his scarred cheek as he stared at you with a mix of surprise and something else, something stronger, and you weren’t sure if it was what you thought it was. “That? That was easy, flyboy,” you grinned, taking the stuffed goose from the teenaged boy that was running the game booth (who also looked equally as surprised as Bradley did). “Here, I won this for you.”

His gaze flickered down to the stuffed animal, and that same look was in his eyes when he looked back up at you and took it. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you, subtly guiding you away from the booth so the next person could shoot their shot. Bradley kissed you over and over again, the stuffed goose you won him pressed against your back as he held you close to him, his other hand cradling the back of your neck. “You’re absolutely perfect, and I think I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You laughed against his mouth, pulling away as you blushed, his words doing a real number on you. “You think?” You teased, lacing your fingers with his as you snuggled into his side. Before he could say anything, your eyes caught sight of the cotton candy cart, and you were tugging him along with you as he clutched the goose like it was porcelain.

A few minutes later, you were standing in line for the ferris wheel, a pink cotton candy cone in your hand as you fed handfuls of it to Bradley, who had what seemed to be a permanent love-struck expression on his face. “You’re pretty,” he mumbled suddenly and you snorted.

“What has gotten into you? I won a stuffed animal for you and now you’re all clingy and smiley,” you observe, tossing the cardboard cone into the trashcan as you moved further up the line. “It’s sexy, don’t get me wrong, but what did I do to deserve it?”

Bradley raised his brow at you as he answered, “You won me a goose,”

It didn’t make much sense to you - the only reason you wanted to play that game was to win him the goose because of his dad, but if it made him happy, then you would stop questioning it.

When you got to the front of the line, the guy operating the ferris wheel had to confiscate Bradley’s goose in case he dropped it or something, and you had never seen him glare so hard at a total stranger before.

You were holding back a laugh as you got strapped in, and had to bury your face against his arm. “That guy’s just trying to do his job and keep us safe and you’re glaring at him,”

Bradley turned to look at you with an unimpressed expression on his face, and you laughed harder at the way his lips curved downwards. “He took my goose,”

“He had to,” you pointed out once the wheel started moving. “And you’ll get it back. Jesus, I didn’t think you’d like it this much.”

“Are you kidding?” he asked, draping his arm around you as the ferris wheel moved even more. “Babes, you make me so fucking happy with everything you do. You listen, you actually care about me, and you remember things that most wouldn’t think twice about. I’m crazy about you.”

Well, now you wish you weren’t sixty feet in the air, because all you wanted to do was crawl on his lap and kiss him senseless. He was so fucking sweet.

You couldn’t exactly crawl onto his lip right now, but you could definitely kiss him, so that’s what you did.

Leaning over, you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss, taking him by surprise this time as you gripped his jaw with your fingers. You weren’t sure how many kisses you’ve shared with him since he picked you up, and you didn’t care. Kissing him felt so good, so right, and you never wanted to stop doing it.

And from the way Bradley kissed you right back, you could tell that he didn’t want to stop doing it either.

Once you were back on the ground, and after Bradley promptly grabbed his goose back from the ferris wheel operator, he guided you over to the ring toss game, then shoved the stuffed animal into your hand. “You got to show off earlier,” he said, twirling the rings around his finger before smirking over at you. “It’s my turn.”

You raised your brow, holding back a laugh as you turned and watched him toss the rings onto the bottles with very little effort. And he won. “Okay,” you started, turning to face him again with squinted eyes. “You tell me you have bad aim, but you managed to win this? How does that make any sense?”

Bradley shrugged, keeping his eyes on you as he was handed his prize. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I have no idea how I just did that. And I still want to know why you’re such a good shot.”

You laughed, then looked at what he was holding, and laughed again. “Wow, you won a fish,”

He looked down at the bag in his hand, a dumb grin on his face when he handed it to you and took back his goose. “You won a fish, actually,” he corrected, “I won a goose.”

You narrowed your eyes as you shook your head. “That’s not at all what actually happened, but you’re hot so I’ll let it slide,” you mumbled, then looked at the bag with a small little red fish inside of it. “Poor thing. It’s cute though.”

Bradley raised a brow as he looked at the fish as well. “I mean, I guess so,”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s not very nice, especially since we’re it’s parents now,” you say, and both his brows shot up as he let out a surprised laugh.

“Oh, are we?” he grunted, draping his arm around your shoulders as he started leading you to the exit. You were joking, and were also kind of serious, but also didn’t want to weird him out. But before you could say anything else, he continued, “Well, if that’s the case, it needs a name then.”

Your smile grew a few sizes at that, because not only had he not been weirded out, but he played along. “Well,” you trailed off, looking at the fish as he walked you through the dark parking lot. When your eyes caught sight of the ‘F’ written in sharpie on the side of the bag, you grinned. “Her name will be…BB.”

“BB?” Bradley laughed, his free hand fumbling around in his pocket for his keys.

“Yep,” you nodded, “BB Bradshaw.”

“Alright,” Bradley mumbled once you were right next to the red Jeep. “What does that stand for?”

You leaned against the passenger side door, a teasing smirk on your face. “Bad Bitch Bradshaw,” you answered, trying to ignore the jolt of heat that shot through your body when he braced his forearm against the window above your head. He was so hot, and he didn’t even know it. “Obviously.”

Bradley hummed, “Obviously,” before leaning down and giving you what felt like your hundredth kiss of the night. “Come on, babes. I’m taking you home.” He mumbled, then his lips found yours in another deep kiss, this one much longer.

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gab-ri-elle22 · 17 hours ago

Text

Let me tell u the difference between Max Verstappen, a WDC, and an alleged championship worthy driver.

Max Verstappen will tell you what he say or want to say in front of u, in the car, through the radio, behind u. A certain championship worthy driver says things at the radio, on the media, and then, once everyone is on it, sweep it under the rug, make it seem like it didn’t happen, or if it did, then it’s out of his hands, that it wasn’t what he meant.

Max disregards team orders when he deems them to be wrong and any result he gets from it is his alone. A certain someone disregards team orders, when he does well, it’s because he had every right to act for himself, when he mess up, it’s the team’s fault. When he follows team orders, and got good results, fine; when he follows and he doesn’t get what he wants, he’s this poor, wronged, loyal driver. God forbid if his teammate does it, he was apparently being favored!

Max is a teammate killer. He outshines them so much to the point that they don’t last on the team, some even going to other motosports. A certain someone is an alleged dominant teammate, so dominant he prevailed against stronger teammates, he’s unbeatable, he’s the future, he’s perfect. And yet, one race of getting outshone, and he’s crying, he’s tattling, he’s a victim.

Max is the devil, he’s dangerous, he pulls of moves that endangers others. Well, better than the beatific saint who can do no wrong, right? The one who lets out disparaging remarks and once the hate piles on, wash his hands off of it.

Lastly, Max is a WDC who built the team he’s in. The certain someone was being built by his team who only ever lives off of their team legacy, off the accolades, off the achievements long gone. A team who derives its confidence from all the WDC’s they hire only to give them with nothing afterwards. WDC’s long past their primes, beaten by their golden boy in points, and suddenly they’re worthless, suddenly they don’t live up to the team’s standards. And their golden boy? He’s good, fantastic, marvelous, a WDC in a making. 😌

Think what u want of the other’s identity, but never ever disparage any other driver as unworthy especially if your standards is a certain someone.

@raikkoberg, for our research purpose 💅🏻

#max verstappen #teammate killer over teammate punisher #statistics without results is worth nothing #don’t even get me started

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maul-of-shame · 2 days ago

Note

Hey, just want to say thank you for your post following the TROP rumors and all. Especially for your paragraphs saying that Haladriels are not the entire audience of TROP 😭 I'm a haladriel/saurondriel and I am feeling so burnt out because loud voices in our shipping ranks are constantly telling us to "produce content non-stop" to "keep the team's eyes" on the ship and I hate that this is draining me of my enjoyment... I'm afraid to talk, comment on their posts, tell them they're wrong for doing this because they are "loud" voices in the shipping ranks and I feel very alone... You post hits the nail on the fact that we, shippers, are not the "entire" audience and that we can relax so thank you so, so much for being level-headed and for making this post 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

A haladriel/saurondriel shipper.

Hey there, thank you so much for reaching out!!

First, let me say how sorry I am that you’re going through this.

Shipping should be a fun, creative outlet where you can explore stories and connections that make you happy—not something that feels like a chore or a high-stakes game to keep a ship “relevant.” It’s incredibly unfair that anyone would put this kind of pressure on you (or any shipper, really).

A quick note before I dive in: This post isn’t about shading anyone’s ship, whether it’s Haladriel, Saurondriel, Elrondriel, or anything else. I’m coming at this as someone who loves fandom and believes we should be able to enjoy our spaces without unnecessary stress or pressure—regardless of what ship we’re sailing on. This is about broader fandom dynamics, not ship wars or personal preferences. So whether you ship Haladriel, Elrondriel, or even something rare like Gil-galad/Sauron (hey, no judgment here), this applies to everyone.

I’m just an Elrondriel (Elrond/Galadriel) shipper sharing observations about fandom dynamics I’ve seen—it’s not tied to any specific ship.

Hot take but, just because some voices are loud doesn’t mean they’re right.

Being the loudest in the room doesn’t make someone the smartest, the kindest, or the most insightful. It just makes them loud—and exhausting, if I’m being honest.

I’m not a Haladriel/Saurondriel shipper, but that doesn’t matter.

Nobody deserves to feel like their fandom experience is being dictated by others, and it breaks my heart that you feel like you can’t even comment or speak up for fear of backlash. Your voice matters, and your enjoyment of your ship matters. Please don’t let the pressure steal that from you.

Shipping isn’t supposed to be a war for visibility—it’s about celebrating the stories and dynamics you love.

And let me just say, the whole idea of shippers being the sole “eyes” on a show is nonsense.

Sorry not sorry.

Like I said in my post, while ships might be a part of the fandom, nobody is the entirety of the audience—not Haladriels, not Saurondriels, not Elrondriels, not anyone.

The team behind The Rings of Power isn’t sitting in a council chamber of Lindon tallying ship content like it’s some sort of fanfiction popularity contest. Trust me, they’re not lurking in the shadows of Mount Doom, whispering, “Which ship reigns supreme?” They’re focused on the bigger picture—crafting a story that weaves together epic arcs, characters, and lore while keeping the show engaging for a global audience.

At the end of the day, what truly sways their decisions isn’t a battle of ships but the cold, hard numbers (Bezos’s precious, if you will). Ratings, viewer retention, and the broad reception of the show will hold more sway than who’s penning the most fanfiction or tweeting the loudest.

It’s the Fellowship of metrics, not a popularity contest in the Prancing Pony.

You know, I think it’s important to note something about the loudest voices pushing these kinds of demands: more often than not, they’re loud because they’re insecure. Truly secure and confident people don’t feel the need to shout their opinions from the rooftops or guilt-trip others into action. The ones making all this noise about "we have to do this," "be active on every platform," "produce endless content," etc., are likely projecting their own fears and anxieties onto everyone else.

And that’s not your burden to carry.

Frankly, this level of seriousness they’re bringing to the table is exhausting—and unnecessary.

We’re talking about a TV show.

Some of these folks are acting like if their ship isn’t front and center, the Eye of Bezos will turn its gaze upon them and smite their content from existence. Spoiler alert besties: it won’t!!

Seriously, these people need to chill out.

They’re treating this like the War of the Last Alliance when, in reality, it’s more like a friendly debate in the Green Dragon over a pint. It’s okay to be passionate, but when you’re marshaling your forces to “produce content non-stop” and acting like Galadriel preparing for a battle against ultimate evil, you might be taking this whole thing a little too far.

The thing is, nobody—and I mean nobody—is sitting there in a dark tower, tallying how much fan art or fic exists for one ship versus another. Amazon isn’t crafting their narrative based on which tag is trending. This isn’t a race to Mount Doom; it’s a TV show meant to entertain, inspire, and occasionally frustrate us.

By all means, love your ship, create content, and engage with others—but maybe let’s leave the doomsday rhetoric and One Ship to Rule Them All vibes in Mordor where they belong.

It's supposed to be a piece of entertainment meant to bring us joy, inspire creativity, and spark meaningful discussions—not a battlefield where everyone has to prove their worth or risk their ship "sinking." The sheer pressure they’re piling on isn’t just unproductive; it’s counterproductive. It’s alienating people like you who just want to enjoy what they love in peace.

And let’s be real: there are so many bigger issues in the world than fandom dynamics. Who has the energy to turn their hobbies into a high-stakes competition? If the energy they’re pouring into pressuring others was instead spent on, I don’t know, actually creating content they enjoy, the fandom would be a much healthier, happier place.

At the end of the day, you don’t owe anyone your time or effort just because they think it’s essential. The pressure to be "active" on every platform or constantly churning out content isn’t sustainable, and it’s not what makes a fandom thrive. What truly matters is passion and genuine engagement, and if that means stepping back to preserve your joy, then that’s 100% valid.

So, don’t let their insecurity or intensity rob you of the enjoyment you deserve. Focus on what makes you happy, and leave the rest to sort itself out.

So take a deep breath. You don’t owe anyone constant content, and you certainly don’t owe anyone your silence. If those loud voices in your ship’s ranks are draining you, it’s okay to step back. Your enjoyment and mental health come first. And if you ever need a break or someone to rant to, my DMs are always open Anon!

You’re not alone in this, even if it feels like it. You that you deserve to enjoy your ships your way—no pressure, no strings attached, no loud voices dictating the terms. Sending you the biggest, warmest hug (and maybe a cup of lembas tea, because we all need it sometimes). 💛

#the rings of power #elrond peredhel #rings of power #trop #galadriel #halbrand #sauron #saurondriel #annatar #haladriel #elrondriel #elrond x galadriel #galadriel x elrond

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xetlynn · 3 days ago

Text

Twilight Imagines- Seth Clearwater

Spaced Out

Requested by: @clean-and-clear

[masterlist]

Summary: based off of the Jacob Imagine: Anything for you!

“I can’t believe he’s doing this… once again!” I shout angrily, throwing my book on the ground of my room. It caused Seth who was sitting on my bed to jolt slightly. I rub my face aggressively, wanting to rip it off.

“Maybe he has a good reason this time.” My friend comes up to me, giving me a sympathetic expression but I just huff in response. I lay down dramatically. “I don’t even know why I get surprised every time.”

He sits back down, gently rubbing my arm that’s sticking out. “It hurts when a friend says they’re gonna be there and then they’re not. Doesn’t matter how many times.” He frowns, his hand stops and I glance over to him, he’s already looking at me.

“Yeah, it just feels pathetic.” I whisper, closing my eyes. “You should not feel pathetic at all. Jacob can… suck at times. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He tells me in an earnest tone, I sit up with a small laugh. It was pretty sarcastic sounding when it came out of my mouth.

“Mm Maybe I do. Maybe I hurt his feelings or something.” I avoid eye contact when I say it.

“Even if you did hurt his feelings, that doesn’t excuse anything, [Name]!” He stands up, exclaiming with his hands. I’ve never seen him with such a frustrated expression, it takes me aback. Seth takes a deep breath before speaking again, rubbing his eyes. “He will realize what he’s doing and you’ll be over it by then. That’s when you will see the friends around you are so much better than Jacob. How they don’t take you for granted.” He tells me, I avoid eye contact with him. Not wanting to admit that he was right.

I know that everything hurts right now but he’s right. I have amazing friends that come whenever I need them. Especially Seth.

“I’m sorry if I was too harsh. I just… I don’t know.” He sighs, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Thank you.” I mutter out, standing up with him. “I needed to hear that. Even if it was harsher, it needed to be said.” I then walk past him out of my room, he follows behind me.

“Want to go get some food?” We went outside, now on my porch and I hold my keys to my moms old car that she recently gave to me for my birthday. “I don’t have any money.”

“My treat.” I go down the steps but he stands there. I know it’s because he feels bad for having me pay so I playfully roll my eyes. “Think of it as a thank you for listening to me cry over a dickhead.” I shake the keys, waiting for an answer.

“Please.” I smile.

His head drops and I know I win the argument that didn’t even start. “Let’s go.” He grumbles, both of us head to my car as I laugh.

Time had passed since Seth told me off about appreciating my other friends. I’ve been happier I guess. Jacob still tells me he’s going to be at things and forget or be late to, so I kind of made my Orchestra recital his last chance. It’s more mentally for myself, I didn’t tell him it was his last chance. This is just to finally let him go. It’s going to suck but I need this. I need to let go of a friend who treats me like garbage.

It’s harder when you have a crush on said friend. But he’s older than me, he’s never looked at me like that. I always knew he would never see me more than a friend but a girl could dream. And boy did this girl dream.

I stood behind the stage, wiggling my fingers before I go strain them out on the stage playing the violin. My friend who stands beside me is staring me down for some odd reason. I tilt my head.

“What?” I whisper. “Your energy seems off, you okay?” She questions me, I squint my eyes, confused on what she means because I feel fine. “Um, I don’t… I don’t know what you mean?” I say earnestly.

“Mm, if you say so. If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.” She places a hand on my shoulder and all I do is nod my head. She walks off to our other friends and I purse my lips still confused by the whole ordeal.

I shrug my shoulders, stepping to the edge of the curtains and taking a peak out. I see Seth, Paul and Quill already in the crowd and I smile. I notice them saving three seats. For Jacob, Embry and Billy Black who insisted on coming. I hope his son shows up, or else it’s the ending of a friendship.

I go away from the curtains and over to my teacher who is hyping us all up. Reminding us to stay on time together, watch her and bow like taught. She was extremely picky on how we are supposed to bow as musicians.

Minutes pass and finally it’s time for us to get on the stage and present our beautiful pieces we worked on for two months. I even have a duo with my friend who was questioning me earlier. We go on stage in the organized manner that my teacher critiqued days before at school.

Before sitting down we bow to the audience. I look over to my friends and see the empty spot between Billy Black and Seth. My heart drops. I roll my eyes, sitting down after the stupid bow and now all I can think about is the fact that he forgot the one thing I begged him not to forget.

Instead of the anger screwing me up in my playing I channel it into something better. I play my pieces with extra passion. Having to remind myself not to play ahead of the timing. Following the people beside me.

He doesn’t even show up late. I keep making eye contact with Seth who gives me sympathetic smiles, but in between songs cheering me on the hardest.

After the concert I don’t stay and chat with anyone, getting out as fast as possible. Going over to my group of people. They all compliment me, but it’s going in one ear and out the other. I feel numb in a way. I try my darndest to ignore the hurt in my chest, placing a fake smile upon my lips. Holding onto Seth, leaning onto him as we all talk in the parking lot. I didn’t even notice how flustered the boy got.

Only did when the others began to tease him. I glance over to his face and finally realize what I was doing and I back away. “Sorry.” I chuckle. I knew about the boy's crush. I have since it started. I never minded, I knew it wasn’t going to last. Just puppy love if you will.

“It’s okay.” He shyly responds, hiding his face from me. I glared at the guys who were still cackling, making fun of the poor boy.

Later in the day Jacob called my mom’s phone, asking when I would be home. She told him three. I guess he said that he promised he would be there at the same time to talk to me. It’s obviously to apologize for missing my concert but at this point I don’t want to see his face.

I checked the time and it already hit 5:30. I’ve been outside at our usual spot since three and there’s been no sight of him. I wrote in my journal that my school counselor gave to me. I use it to mainly rant about stupid things. Lately it’s been about Jacob Black. Once it’s written down I’m basically over it.

“[Name]!” A voice calls and I feel my heart thump almost hoping it was Jacob’s voice but when I see Seth there’s a slight disappointment. But then it thumps again, beating quicker. I scrunch my eyebrows, not expecting the feeling. “Hey, uh, Quil, Embry and I were going to the beach. Did you want to join?” He asks.

I looked behind me and there was nothing. I turned back to Seth and sighed. “Yeah, let’s go.” I stand up from my spot.

We end up throwing around a football after messing around in the water. During this time I haven’t even thought about Jake.

Now that’s all in my head is this weird feeling I’m having for Seth. I didn't understand it. I never felt this way for him before. But looking back at how much he’s done for me, how he’s such a genuine friend and loyal person I can’t help it. It makes more sense to like him anyways, he’s my age. He likes me, himself. But if I do confess what would that mean for us. Would we actually even date? Would we stay best friends?

“You good, [Name]?” A voice speaks up in my direction and I snap out of my daze, glancing over to Embry. Where the voice came from. “Hm, Yeah?” I raise a brow in response. I didn’t realize I appeared upset at all.

“You thinking about that jerk?” Quill asks with a smile. I notice his eyes flicker between Seth and I. I look over to the boy whose head goes down.

“No, actually.” I roll my eyes, catching the ball. “I just feel spacy.” I mumble before throwing the ball with too much force. Not meaning to, obviously. It hit Seth hard in the face, smack dab in the nose. I wince, immediately running over to him.

“Are you okay!? I’m so sorry!” I shout, pulling his face into my hands, checking to see if I caused it to bleed. Luckily I didn’t so I pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry!” I don’t know why I’m reacting so harshly about this. It was only a hit in the face…

“It’s alright, [Name].” He mutters quietly, I hear snickering behind me. “You’re so dramatic, missy.” Embry laughs as Quill was holding his stomach due to the scene in front of him. I huff, still holding onto the boy as I attempt to ignore them. “His face is so red.” I hear Quill say to Embry and I glance down. My mouth turning into an ‘o’ shape.

I let the boy go and sheepishly hid my face behind my hands. “Sorry, Seth. I don’t know what my deal is lately.” I frown, turning to walk away but the sound of his chuckle stops me. “It’s okay! Seriously! And that’s just how you are!” He gives me a closed eye smile before holding his nose in pain from the small movement he made.

And just like that my guilt came back ten fold. “Hey, we have to go, forgot we were supposed to meet Paul soon!’ Embry suddenly calls out and I give him a strange expression but all he does is shrug then runs off with Quill right behind him.

“Wanna play some more?” Seth hands me the ball but I scrunch my face in response, smacking it down into the sand. “Let’s just chill here.” I plop down, moments later he joins me in the sand. “Again, I’m sorry.” I put my hands in my lap, refusing to look at him.

“[Name], it’s fine. I promise.” He grins, nudging me with his arm. “I still feel bad. I’ve been so out of it the past few days.” I exclaim annoyed, squeezing my hands together to the point that they’re paler than usual. “Understandable, Jacob’s been an ass.”

I scoff out a laugh. “It’s not even because of him.” I throw a hand in the air, now feeling like I’m stupid. “It’s not?”

“No! I just-” How am I supposed to tell you it’s you! Seth I have these weird feelings growing and I like you. I like you so much it floods my thoughts every hour and minute and I’m going insane! How am I supposed to tell you that!?

I know how.

In my stupid, idiotic way. “I like you, Seth. A lot.” I whisper, leaning back, using my arm to keep me up behind me. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about.” I smile, squinting my eyes from the sun. “Really?”

“Mhm.” I hum out, watching every little move his face made. The expression wasn’t really readable. I furrowed my brows.

“You don’t feel the same?” I quiz, tilt my head to the side even more than it already is from the position that I am in.

“I do, I’m just in shock. I think?” He tells me and I laugh. “Cute.” I look over at the water. “Wha-what does that mean for us?” He asked me.

“Whatever you want it to mean.” I told him. “Well, I’d like for you to be my girlfriend but can I take you out on a proper date?” He asks me and I hear him shuffle to get up.

Now standing in front of me. “Like now?” I giggle, his hand shoots out in front of me and I slowly take it. “Yes.” He nods his head vigorously. “Okay!” He drags me away from the beach.

———————————

So sorry!!!! I’ve had a lot of stress lately and haven’t been in a good mindset to write:/ but I have been editing the crap out of things and plan on re-editing a few things while also obviously working on my stories and catching up on imagines.

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730architect · 1 day ago

Text

picture your face - L4B (1.2)

part 1

part 2 yay!! i started writing parts of this all the way back in february and finally got around to fixing it up into a completed work. This takes place the night of the october 11, 2024 episode of smackdown for context :) this will be the final part of picture your face but i will def write more l4b because i miss them dearly </3 enjoy my sweets

── •✧• ──

wc: 7.8k

tags: liv4brutality, hatred, conflicted feelings, past liv morgan/rhea ripley, angst, cunnilingus, face sitting, light dom/sub, strap-on sex, dirty talk, it's sweet at the end

── •✧• ──

It had been exactly one week since Rhea had been laid out on her hotel bed, scrolling on her phone mindlessly when she got a notification alerting her that “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo.” Rhea blinked hard, rubbing any sleep from her eyes that had collected from the long day she’d had. She couldn’t register what she was feeling. Disbelief would be an understatement, but so would confusion. Was this another one of Liv’s pranks that she had pulled with the encouragement of the rest of the Judgment Day?

Well.. if she wants to play games, let's play. Rhea thought to herself as she opened up her contacts. She scrolled until she found the one she was looking for and pressed “message”. Rhea pondered her options. What should she send? Eventually she decided on something simple. A smirk formed on her face as she finished typing out her message.

“I guess you really were watching me.” Perfect.

Rhea hits send and turns her phone off for the night, images of another plan brewing in the back of her mind before her body finally allows sleep to overtake it.

── •✧• ──

Rhea stormed from the ring back to the backstage area after finally getting her hands on Liv and her pathetic posse of sorts with several referees following after her, ensuring that she would leave the premise. Fading fan chants and the enraged yells from the referees fell on deaf ears as she navigated the maze that was the Bon Secours Wellness Arena to where she had hastily parked her rental car. Her body was hot from the adrenaline but her attack wasn't enough to satisfy her ever-increasing lust for revenge. She wasn’t sure what she wanted more, her title or to make Liv suffer under her hand.

Rhea knew better than anyone that the odds were stacked against her, especially now that Raquel has aligned herself with the one woman she hates the most in this lifetime. She needed to think smarter. All this hostility and aggressiveness hadn’t done her much good and her patience was running thin. She may have Liv beaten physically, but psychologically? That was a whole different playing field.

She ponders her options to herself as she makes her way to the parking lot after narrowly escaping a scolding from Nick Aldis for her invasion of his show. She gets into her rental car and lays her head back onto the headrest, drumming her fingers on her thigh while taking a couple deep breaths to calm down before she drives back to her hotel.

She eventually buckles up and goes to put the car into drive but stops abruptly when she sees the top of a familiar blonde head hurrying from between the cars in the parking lot just a few rows in front of her, followed by two taller brunettes.

Rhea watches as Liv and Dominik are ushered into a large black SUV by the latest addition to their group, Raquel, who has been serving as a bodyguard and now apparently a chauffeur of sorts to Liv since her interference during Rhea’s match at Bad Blood. Rhea’s heart rate increases, blood rushing in her ears. She can feel herself growing more belligerent at their fright.

She observes as Raquel climbs into the driver's seat and reverses out of the parking spot. Rhea ducks her head a bit in an effort to remain hidden from them as she debates on whether or not she should follow them to wherever it is they’re staying, thankful for the tint on her windows. She debates for a solid 15 seconds until finally putting her car in drive and peeling out behind them, making sure to keep a healthy distance in order to not blow her cover.

Rhea discreetly followed the trio all the way back to their hotel and watches as they give up their car to the valet service as quickly as they can before they rush inside. She decides to call it a night, not in any mood to hunt them down all the way to their hotel rooms, at least not at the moment. She circles back and merges back onto the highway leading to her hotel, mind still racing. She spends the rest of the drive lost in her thoughts, in a trance over all the ways she can make Liv pay for all she’s put her through over the past 7 months.

Rhea wanted her to suffer. She wanted to make Liv feel the same hurt and betrayal she felt while she was sitting at home, icing her shoulder for hours on end until her skin was blue and numb to the touch. The thought of Liv on her knees, begging for mercy as she looks up at her, blue eyes glassy with tears and terror has Rhea shifting in her seat; searching for at least a little bit of friction to relieve the familiar ache she felt in her gut whenever she thought about her. Rhea pulls up to the front of her hotel sloppily, tossing the keys to the attendant hurriedly before rushing inside.

── •✧• ──

Rhea makes it to her hotel suite, deadbolting the door behind her before making a beeline for the bathroom. She tears her clothes off of her body hastily and jumps into the shower, letting the cold water run through her hair and down her back as she takes some much needed deep breaths. Rhea runs her tattooed fingers through her hair, trying to focus on the chill of the water on her skin, or anything else really. Anything to get her mind off of the women’s world champion. But despite being doused in cold water, it does nothing to cool the heat building in her core that she's been fighting since she left the arena.

She runs her right hand down her body, her left still running through her dark hair. Tattooed fingers dancing lightly over flushed skin, feeling the groves of the goosebumps that formed beneath them. Her fingers make their way to her breast as she thumbs over her nipple piercing, feeling the sensation shoot straight to her aching cunt. Low whimpers spill from her lips as she lightly pinches and twists at the piercing, the sensation making her delirious.

Rhea allows her head to fall back against the glass walls of the shower while her fingers trickle down her figure, allowing them to ghost over her most sensitive parts. Visions of Liv dance behind her eyelids as she slips a finger inside of herself, moaning quietly at the intrusion. Rhea shifts her hips forward slightly, jaw going slack at the feeling of her fingers curling up inside of her due to the adjustment.

Rhea cries out Liv’s name. She imagines Liv seeing her like this, getting off at the mere thought of her. How she would drop to her knees just before Rhea could reach her climax to finish her off. Rhea lets out one last pathetic whimper as she gushes around her fingers, heart hammering in her chest while she rides out her orgasm. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s pictured Liv while touching herself and she was positive it wouldn’t be the last. Rhea finally pulls her spent fingers out of her cunt and brings them up to her lips, sucking them clean. She sighs contentedly around them as she sinks back against the glass propping her up.

Once her heart rate had returned to normal, Rhea reached for the soap and finally began to wash her body, getting lost in the scent of tea tree and steam. She washes her hair and turns the shower off when she finishes, stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry herself off with. She hums to herself as she dries off and pumps lotion into her hands to massage into her skin.

She had changed into sweatpants and an old band tee she wore religiously back in Australia. The fabric was soft and worn from years of use and had a bleach stain on the collar. Rhea was drying her hair with the complementary hair dryer the hotel provided when she heard a pounding on the door. She turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it, storing it away before going to answer the door. She assumed that it was just housekeeping making their rounds and asking if she wanted any clean towels.

Rhea turned on a lamp to provide some more lighting before swinging the door open. She hadn’t checked through the peephole of who it might be, face going blank when she sees a blonde at her door. It was Liv.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rhea demands, glancing around in case Dominik or Raquel had been hiding around somewhere ready to attack.

Liv rolled her eyes at the hostility. She knew Rhea would be borderline impossible to talk to, she had spent at least half of their former partnership trying to get her to just make small talk with her until they had finally warmed up to each other. A whole lot of good that did her. “I’m just here to talk.” Liv replies calmly.

“‘Talk’ my ass. Do you think I’m stupid?” Rhea scoffs, still wary of a potential attack. “Why are you here? How did you even find where I was staying?”

“I asked around. Not like it was all that hard. Now are you gonna invite me in so we can talk or are you going to force me to stand out here like an idiot?” Liv retorts.

Rhea narrows her eyes at her. “How do I know that this isn’t an ambush?”

“Rhea, if I wanted to attack you I would’ve done it already. Now suck it up and let me in.” Liv snaps, fed up with their banter.

Rhea takes one final look around and sighs, stepping aside and granting Liv entry into her hotel. “Don’t mind the mess, I just finished showering.” Rhea comments, suddenly confused as to why she was asking her rival to disregard her mess. This was her hotel, she could do whatever she wanted. And she definitely didn’t owe Liv of all people an explanation.

Liv disregards her statement, looking around and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, facing Rhea. She’s dressed in a sweatshirt, shorts, and tennis shoes. All neutral colors. It seems that joining the Judgment Day had stripped her of her usual fun and flirty color palette. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and her tortoise Prada frames were perched on the bridge of her nose. She watches as Rhea shuts the door behind her, locking them both inside.

The silence is deafening. It’s been over 2 years since they’ve been in the same room as one another without ripping each other’s throats out. Rhea stands in front of Liv, looking down at her with her arms crossed over her chest, making her muscular 5’10 frame look even larger. Liv swallowed hard as she looked up at her, trying to look as unfazed as possible.

It had been one week since Rhea had posted that photo on Instagram that had her in complete shambles. Liv had spent the past seven days trying to forget it even happened, so much so that she had even deleted Rhea’s unopened text message from her phone. And she had to admit, she was doing a pretty damn good job at distracting herself. That was, until today. After Rhea’s attack, Liv found herself consumed by her yet again, this time even more. The fact that Rhea was willing to do everything in her power to find a way to get her hands on her, even if it meant crossing over to another brand for a night, it all just made Liv so lightheaded. Well, that along with the repeated blows to the head she had taken in the ring.

“So… what was so important that you needed to come to my hotel to talk to me?” Rhea questions, her glare never wavering.

Liv looks down at her sleeve and picks at a loose thread in the fabric. “I wanted to talk to you about…” her words trail off. Rhea cocks an eyebrow at her, impatient. Liv peeks up at her through her glasses and sees her visible irritation before taking a deep breath and blurting out, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last week.” She says the sentence so fast it almost sounds like one long word.

Rhea’s face doesn’t change at the admission, remaining frozen in permanent annoyance. “What about last week?” she asks despite knowing exactly what Liv is referring to. She wanted to hear whatever pathetic explanation she had to offer up.

“Listen, what happened was a complete accident. I didn’t mean to press any wrong buttons or anything, in fact that would be the last thing I would want to do.” Liv explains, eventually looking up at Rhea as she twists her hands. She seems genuinely agonized over the whole situation which Rhea finds hilarious considering it wasn’t even that big of a deal anyways. Maybe Rhea had finally knocked some sense into her during her attack earlier that day.

“Yeah, I figured it wasn’t on purpose. I posted that caption in order to get a reaction out of you, which I knew I would and I did. So why come all the way over here to plead your case? Was it the beating I gave you earlier?” Rhea chuckles, honestly humored by the circumstances.

Liv huffs in annoyance. “No, it was not the beating. Fuck you for that, by the way. It was the text you sent afterwards.” she admits.

Rhea nods in understanding, uncrossing her arms and sticking her hands in her pockets. “So you came all this way because I confronted you? That’s a new one.” she replies. “I still don’t understand why you’re here though. You could’ve just responded to my message. Hell, you could’ve even attacked me on RAW. So, why here? Why now?” Rhea presses, determined to get an answer.

Liv seems at a bit of a loss for words. She didn’t imagine their conversation lasting this long while still somehow remaining civil. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would be better to talk in person about it.” she shrugs lamely.

Rhea lets out a harsh laugh. “Talk? All of a sudden you’re focused on talking after over 2 years of hating each other? I knew you were dumb but not this dumb, Liv.” she smiles, canines flashing. She shakes her head in amusement. “Why even stalk me on social media? We beat the shit of each other every single week.”

“Since when do you regulate what I can and can’t do on my phone? Your account is public, people are going to check it. If you don't want that, maybe consider hitting the private button.” Liv snaps, her usual sharp attitude returning.

“Oh, Liv, obviously people are going to look at my account. I just didn’t expect someone who had successfully taken quite literally everything away from me to be so obsessive.” Rhea replies, leaning down so she and Liv are eye to eye.

Liv pushes herself off of the bed, standing before Rhea in defiance. “I think that’s really fucking rich coming from you, Rhea. Especially considering you haven’t left me or my family alone for months. But sure, I’m the one who’s obsessed.” She challenges.

“Here you go with this ‘family’ bullshit again. You know just as well as I do that they’ll never really be your family. You’ll come to learn just as I have that they’re all a bunch of conniving, selfish lowlifes who don’t care about anyone but themselves-” Rhea begins to taunt her but is cut off by a hard shove to the chest that pushes her back a mere couple of inches. Liv is nowhere near as strong as her but Rhea appreciated the effort regardless. The woman had guts, that was for sure.

“Don’t talk about them.” Liv hisses. “You’re just jealous that they love me and not you.”

“And what have they done for you? Besides occasionally hold your hand up after a victory? That’s not love, Liv.” Rhea argues.

“Oh, but you know what is? You have pushed away and betrayed every single person who has ever loved you and you can’t even bring yourself to own up to it.” she retorts.

“Very few people have loved me, Liv.” Rhea dismisses, not allowing the harsh honesty to penetrate her heart.

“I did.” Liv professes, her eyes overtaken by sorrow and hatred after her confession. “I loved you more than anyone else in this business and what did you do? You ruined my fucking life in front of the whole world. So excuse me for wanting to rub my victories in your face.” Liv laughs harshly, despite finding nothing funny about the circumstances. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had moved on from what Rhea had done to her that she couldn’t realize that with each passing day she cared more than she ever did.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Sitting at home, barely able to move my arm at all, being forced to watch you and Dominik every single week?” Tears brim Liv’s eyes, a sight that makes Rhea’s heart ache horribly. “Did I really mean that little to you?” she whispers, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

The sight in front of her makes Rhea’s chest hurt. She had always imagined having Liv a crying mess at her feet but not like this. “Please don’t cry.” she says while reaching out to brush away the fallen tear but is stopped by Liv’s hand pushing hers away.

“Don’t touch me. You don't get to comfort me after what you’ve put me through.” Liv asserts softly, wiping away the tears herself.

Rhea nods in defeat. She may not like Liv but she understands where she fucked up, regardless of not being able to admit it. God, why couldn’t she just fucking apologize? Maybe it really was too late.

“If it hurt you so bad to see me with him, why even choose Dominik?” Rhea asked quietly.

Liv smiles softly before answering. “Because I wanted to hurt you, why else? Hurting you will always give me a satisfaction that no championship ever could. Yours was just a bonus.” she winks.

“You sure you’re still not obsessed?” Rhea cocks her head to the side, looking at Liv with a smirk.

Liv leans in even closer. “So what if I am?” she questions defiantly.

Rhea decided that she’d heard more than enough. Throwing caution to the wind, she snaked her hands behind Liv’s head and entangled them into her hair before swallowing her words into a heavenly kiss. Her movements caught Liv so off guard but she managed to move perfectly with her, melting into her touch. Liv couldn’t ignore how fucking good Rhea felt against her mouth. With Rhea’s hand behind Liv’s head, she tilted her face up so she could deepen the kiss. Liv kissed her back with the same feverish passion, gently coaxing Rhea’s mouth open with her tongue, further intensifying the kiss. Rhea groaned against Liv’s mouth, feeling the other woman’s plush lips smile against hers at the sound.

Liv felt an unmistakable heat flicker between her legs as Rhea’s large, calloused hands explored her lithe body. She let out a blissful sigh into Rhea’s mouth, which only increased her frantic desire even more. Rhea redirected her lips to Liv’s neck, kissing and sucking like there was no tomorrow. Liv knew that there would be marks left in the morning but she couldn’t care less, not when she had finally gotten what she had been craving for years on end.

Rhea clumsily guided them back a few feet to the bed, refusing to part lips with Liv even after they almost tripped over each other. Rhea gently eased Liv down onto the bed, her mouth never leaving her neck. Liv’s hands had found their way under the hem of Rhea’s t-shirt and softly scratched her perfectly manicured fingers against Rhea’s muscled figure, enticing a soft groan from her.

“Fuck, Liv…” Rhea whispered, her breath hot on Liv’s skin.

Liv let out a soft giggle and tugged at Rhea’s top, a silent plea for her to take it off. Rhea paused her movements for a moment and complied, pulling the fabric up and over her body agonizingly slowly. Liv sat up on her elbows, making out the soft imprints of Rhea’s nipple piercings through the fabric of her bra.

Liv found herself rendered speechless, staring up at the mountain of a woman standing in front of her. Her eyes followed the lines of black ink that were embedded onto Rhea’s torso, imagining how they would taste on her tongue. Her breath quickens as watches Rhea run her tattooed fingers over the material of her bra strap before hooking onto them and pulling them off of her shoulder. Rhea tugs at her bra with one hand while the other unhooks the clasps behind her back. Rhea allows it to fall off of her figure, exposing the top half of her body to Liv like she once did in the locker room all those years ago. A moment Liv finds herself replaying in her head more often than she’d like to admit.

“Holy shit.” Liv whispers, feeling almost lightheaded at the situation she had found herself in. She feels her face heat as Rhea chuckles at her reaction.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna get to work?” Rhea teases, hands reaching up to palm at her tits, thumbs grazing over her piercings. Rhea hisses softly at the sensation and rolls her head back.

Liv’s mouth immediately waters at the sight before her. She takes Rhea’s words as a challenge, pushing herself off of the bed and standing before her once again. She takes off her glasses and places them on the bedside table before kissing her lips softly once more as her hands find themselves gripping the flesh of her breasts. She feels the cool barbells of her piercings under her fingertips. Rhea’s breath caught in her throat at the the sensation of Liv’s hands roaming her body, her own hands gripping the blonde’s hips tightly. Her breathing grows ragged as she watches Liv trail her lips from her lips to her collarbone to finally her sternum and the flesh surrounding it.

Rhea watches wide-eyed as Liv’s tongue laves at her breast, her fingers toying with the other in order to stimulate her as much as possible. She fights as hard as she can from allowing any noise to escape her throat, knowing that it would do nothing but inflate Liv’s ego even more but she can’t help the mewl that slips past her lips. Liv glances up at her, releasing her now swollen nipple with a pop. Her mouth forms into a satisfied smirk, kissing where her mouth just was before before asking a satisfied “you like that?”

Rhea rolls her eyes, that same familiar annoyance she usually felt around Liv sinking back in. “Shut the fuck up and put your mouth back on me.” she says irritatedly.

Liv cocks her eyebrow at her, the mischievous glint never leaving her eye. “I think you could ask a little nicer, don't you? Especially after all you’ve put me through?” Liv taunts with a pout, her fingers tracing hearts on Rhea’s skin.

Rhea huffs before letting out an exasperated “please.” She lets out a groan when Liv shakes her head stubbornly, not impressed by her lack of enthusiasm.

“Please what?” Liv doubles down on her stubbornness.

Rhea eventually swallows her pride, which she almost chokes on before finally pleading with the blonde.

“Fine, fuck, please just touch me.” Rhea borderline begs, looking down at Liv through her eyelashes with an anguished look painted across her sharp features.

A dangerous smile appears on Liv’s face at the sound of Rhea’s desperation. “Much better.” she hums in approval. She palms at Rhea’s breasts a bit more, feeling her skin heat beneath her hands before sliding them down her body. “This what you wanted?” Liv asked, unable to conceal her wicked smile.

Dominance was not something Rhea was willing to give up easily and she knew that. Liv didn’t know how long she had until Rhea could regain her composure and slip back into that commanding persona she never seemed to step down from, so she knew had to make the most of the time she had. Rhea nods hopelessly. She was usually such a giver but she wanted nothing more but to be taken care of at the moment. She was positive she would return the favor later on but right now, she craved the opportunity to forfeit her ability to think for the time being.

Liv gently lays Rhea down onto the bed, her raven hair fanning out around her head. Liv’s nimble fingers make their way to the waistband of Rhea’s sweatpants, fumbling with the waistband for a moment until she successfully unties it. Rhea lifts her hips off of the mattress so Liv can pull her pants out from under her and down her legs as she inhales the scent of the cashmere lotion Rhea had massaged into her skin earlier. Liv runs her hands up and down Rhea’s thighs, each caress creeping closer and closer to the waistband of her gray boxers. Liv allows her fingers to creep between Rhea’s legs and run along the small wet spot that had formed there.

Rhea whimpers and shifts at the contact, causing Liv to tut at her, feigning disapproval at her squirming. Liv hooks her fingers into Rhea’s waistband and pulls them down and off of her figure, exposing her dripping cunt to the soft light of the room. Rhea’s clit peeked through her swollen folds coated in her arousal along with the piercing that adorned it. Liv grows hungry at the sight, heat beginning to pool below her hips as well. However something catches her eye.

Liv squints in the dim lighting, her eyes taking a moment to focus since she didn’t have her glasses on anymore. She is able to make out a tattoo, no smaller than half of her thumb. The black ink had been manipulated in the shape of an eye with three dots below it. Her logo. Memories from years ago flood her brain like a tsunami. When she and Rhea had gotten so stupidly drunk together after a show that they had somehow stumbled into a shitty tattoo parlor and demanded matching tattoos. They decided on each other's logos on their bikini lines. They were so drunk that they didn't even feel the needle of the tattoo gun penetrate their skin, holding each other's hands as they got them. The exact details of that night were still hazy even now, as the Don Julio had gotten the best of them both that night but one thing remained: the tattoos served as an unspoken promise. No matter what happened, whether they loved or hated each other in the future, they would always be linked to one another. For better or for worse. Like wedding vows, almost.

Liv traces the tattoo lightly. “You kept it?” she whispers, eyes finally meeting Rhea’s.

Rhea smiled softly, immediately understanding what she meant. “Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?”

Liv attempts to smile but can't quite bring herself to do so. “I don’t know… I figured you would’ve had it removed or covered up or something. You know, after everything that happened.” she confesses, her eyes falling back to the tattoo.

“That doesn’t change what we had together. I was a dick, I know that. Removing it would’ve only further cemented that.” Rhea replies, slightly ashamed to look at Liv as she says this. “Do you… do you still have yours?” she asks timidly, afraid to hear the answer.

Liv’s eyes brighten at the question as she nods. She slides her shorts and underwear off before crawling onto the bed next to Rhea. Rhea’s eyes soften at the sight of the two R’s embedded onto Liv’s skin, leaning in to kiss it softly. Her strong hands grip Liv’s hips as she distributes kisses all over her stomach.

“I want you on my face.” Rhea professes, accent taken over with a soft rasp.

Liv clenches at her words as her hands cup Rhea’s face. “But I wanted to take care of you.”

“You can take care of me by shutting up and getting on my face.” Rhea grins. She doesn’t allow Liv to protest, using her strength to place her right above her face so Liv was hovering right above her mouth, just centimeters away from her lips.

Rhea flits her tongue over Liv’s now aching clit, almost in a lazy manner it was so slow. Liv let out the breath she had been holding and laced her fingers into Rhea’s hair, desperately fighting the urge to just shove her face into her dripping cunt. Luckily, Rhea understood Liv’s anticipation and began to dip her tongue into Liv’s sweet folds, the ball of her tongue piercing catching on her clit. Rhea began to use a finger to gently stretch her out. Liv’s chest heaved and her heart raced as Rhea flattened her tongue and ran it along her clit before gently enveloping it into her mouth and beginning to suck.

“Mmf- fuck.” Liv whined above the dark haired woman, tossing her head back in bliss. She felt the familiar warmth in her stomach begin to ignite and grow and spread all over her body, touching each of her nerves and setting them ablaze. Liv gripped onto her hair tighter and pushed Rhea’s face even deeper into her heat, ultimately giving in to her desires.

Rhea let out a muffled moan both at Liv’s actions and at the taste of her, sending vibrations through Liv’s already trembling body. The sensation caused Liv to let out a choked moan as she began to babble praises that she couldn’t even verbally finish. She was a mess. She felt Rhea’s piercing swirl around her clit, enticing desperate moans from the depths of her soul to rip from her throat. Liv could feel her orgasm approaching quickly, her legs beginning to shake around Rhea’s head as a result.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Rhea hummed into Liv’s folds as she continued the assault with her mouth, drunk off of the taste of her.

Liv nodded dumbly, unable to even form a coherent thought. “Yes- yeah… oh fuck, Rhea.” she babbles, hips stuttering with every grind.

“Go ahead, baby. All on my face… every last fuckin’ drop.” Rhea slurs, her words melting into one another. She gripped the flesh of Liv’s ass tighter while holding her against her face as she intensified the motions of her mouth, determined to make her cum in ways Dominik could only dream of.

Liv does exactly as Rhea asks, eyes rolling back into her head and jaw going slack as she cums. One of her hands released Rhea’s hair and began to strangle the bed sheets surrounding her, twisting and wrinkling them in her vice-like grip. Rhea continued to lap at Liv’s clit as she re-inserted a finger into her, pumping at a steady pace. Liv could barely think as her legs spasmed from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She clenched around Rhea’s finger, hot white lights beginning to blind her vision as Rhea continued to stimulate her.

Rhea finally removed her fingers from her still leaking hole before Liv rolled off of her and sank into the plush pillows of the mattress. She looked over to Rhea who had brought her fingers up to Liv’s lips which of course she opened welcomingly. Rhea watched in admiration as Liv sucked her juices off of her fingers with closed eyes. She had entered a euphoric state as her mind began to settle. Liv opened her eyes after hearing the soft groan Rhea had let out at the sight of her fingers down Liv’s throat as she continued to clean her up, not wasting a single drop. Liv nearly orgasmed again when she saw the entire lower half of Rhea's face absolutely soaked with her sweet juices.

Rhea leans in to kiss her deeply, allowing Liv to taste herself one last time before pulling back with a smile. “Stay here.” she says, mischief blooming in her eyes. Liv nods obediently, she would probably do anything Rhea asked after an orgasm like that. She watches Rhea roll off the bed and walk into the bathroom, enjoying the view as she walks out of the room. Liv hears Rhea rummaging around her belongings softly and wonders what she may be searching for. She had almost fully recovered from her orgasm when Rhea walked back in. Liv turns to face her and feels her jaw drop when she sees what sits on her hips.

Rhea walks in with a purple silicone strap-on attached to a black harness strapped to her hips. She pauses at the foot of the bed and nods her head at Liv, a silent is this okay? Liv’s face breaks out into a smile and nods back eagerly.

Rhea grabs her legs and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed before climbing on. She kneels between Liv’s legs and spreads them wide, positioning the tip of her strap to just barely tease her entrance. She runs her cock up and down Liv’s slit, collecting her essence. Rhea leans down and spits right where she and Liv meet. Liv’s breath hitches when she feels it hit her pussy and looks up at Rhea with pleading eyes.

“Please.” Liv begs. She almost sounds like she’s on the verge of tears with how desperate she is. Rhea feels her pride swell seeing her like this.

“Please what?” she asks cockily, throwing Liv’s earlier question back at her. Her thumb slides up Liv’s thigh and settles on her clit and begins to rub slow circles, almost in an attempt to coax the answer out of her.

Liv’s chest heaves at Rhea's ministrations, her mouth falling open slowly and her eyes glued to where Rhea stimulates her. “Fuck me. Please just fuck me… I’ll do anything.” she pleads as she rips her eyes from Rhea’s fingers and returns them to her piercing blue eyes.

Rhea smirks in satisfaction. She removes her fingers and Liv whimpers at the loss of contact. Rhea decides to compensate by slowly pushing her cock into Liv’s aching cunt, letting out a strained exhale as she does. It takes all of Rhea’s willpower not to fuck into her like an animal at the sound of the prolonged whine Liv lets out as Rhea’s strap stretches her out. Rhea thrusts into her at a slow pace, allowing Liv to adjust to the feeling of having herself filled to the brim over and over again.

“Faster, please.” Liv breathes. Her nails dig into the skin of Rhea’s biceps in almost painful anticipation. The arousal Rhea felt while seeing her like this couldn’t be compared to any other sentiment on the planet. The way her blonde hair unfurled around her hair like a halo, she looked like an angel. An angel that Rhea couldn’t wait to ruin.

Rhea increases the speed of her thrusts, bottoming out in Liv’s cunt with each one. Liv’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, mouth agape with the most sinful noises spilling from her parted lips. The backs of her thighs began to ache with the constant slapping of Rhea’s skin against hers, her speed never slowing except to torture the poor woman. The squelches of Liv’s juices dripping from her weeping hole from each thrust made her head spin as they stained the sheets below her trembling body. A sheer creamy ring of white forms at the base of Rhea’s strap. How long has it been? It felt like an eternity, the way the pleasure seemed never-ending as Rhea continued to ravage her body like a woman possessed.

Liv couldn't do anything but moan Rhea’s name and make pitiful attempts at forming sentences, her words dissolving into whimpers in a matter of seconds. It should be embarrassing, really. And part of her was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she had let mortal enemy have her like this after 2 years of denying herself what she knew would be a destructive paradise.

“This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Rhea sneered down at the blonde, her voice dripping with malice yet adoration. Her thick accent overtaken by a harsh rasp, sweat forming on her brow and dampening her hair slightly. “You came all the way over here with your stupid little fucking apology prepared just to end up like this, didn’t you?” she pants. Her muscles bulged and glistened with sweat, her back adorned in angry red scratch marks, courtesy of the woman underneath her, to accompany the ink on her skin.

Liv made another measly attempt at responding to yet another one of her degrading comments but her mind seemed to short circuit as Rhea pressed into her even more, nearly folding her in half the same way she pinned her opponents in the ring. Liv cried out in pleasure, causing Rhea to laugh at her. Her sharp canines were on display, looking as happy as ever knowing that she was the only person who could get Liv like this. Liv could lie and pretend all she wanted with Dominik but they both knew that he couldn’t hold a candle to how Rhea made her feel.

Liv looked over at the mirror beside the bed, seeing exactly how fucked out she was folded up beneath the very woman she swore that she hated, watching as she let her do whatever she wanted to her. Rhea grabbed her face with a heavily inked hand, forcing Liv’s face in the direction of the mirror.

“My god, look at you… look at how much of a slut you are. Just a stupid, needy fucktoy for Mami to use whenever she wants, aren't you baby?” she cooed, leaning down to kiss and lick at Liv’s neck. She’ll never get over the taste of her. Sweet, tangy, carnal, hers. All hers.

Liv’s eyes meet Rhea’s piercing blue ones in the mirror, her body aching with pleasure and fatigue but still managed to nod along pathetically to her words. “M’all yours, Mami… all yours.” she whimpered.

Liv watches Rhea’s eyes light up at her confession. “That's right babe… this is all for you, I’m doing this all for you. Fuckin’ love this body… this pussy… this face.” Rhea says, her words slightly slurred. Her thrusts began to stutter, the piston of her hips becoming erratic as she chased her high the same as Liv did. Her strap fills Liv to the brim and stretches her out until she's delirious while the back of it hits Rhea’s clit just right with every stroke, her moans and pants mingled with hers.

“Fuck m’gonna cum…” she whispers, not trusting her voice because she knew that it would come out as a whimper pathetic enough to rival Liv’s as she replies with a strangled “me too”, gripping onto Rhea’s shoulders for stability, biceps flexing as she holds herself up.

“Wanna ride you.” Liv mumbles. Her words are almost impossible to understand with the way her moans overpowered them but Rhea was still able to somehow comprehend her. She nods and pulls out before being quickly shoved back against the pillows. Liv mounts her lap and sinks back down onto her cock in a frenzy, a mix of whimpers and Rhea’s name spilling from her lips uncontrollably.

“Shit, baby… look at you. So fuckin’ worked up over me, aren’t you? Taking my cock so fucking good… like you were made for it.” Rhea praises, looking up at Liv in awe. Liv’s head was tossed back, tits bouncing as she rode Rhea fiercely. She slows her movements to grind down on Rhea’s hips. The back of the toy rubbed against Rhea’s piercing, making her almost incoherent. Rhea grips Liv’s hips and fucks up into her, matching her movements.

“That's it baby, give it to me. Come on… show me how fucking bad you want it.” Rhea grits, kissing at Liv’s neck as she does. Liv intensifies her movements at Rhea’s words, her face contorting in pleasure.

“Fuck, Rhea, right there… god, I’m so close.” Liv whines. Her thighs ached but she deemed it worth it with the amount of pleasure she was experiencing.

“I know you are, baby, I know. You’re being so fucking good for me, angel. C’mon, give it to me… cum all over my cock.” Rhea purrs, her accent like velvet.

Liv’s eyes roll back as she feels heat bloom in the pit of her belly. Her second orgasm hits her like a freight train. She cums with a loud cry, her body spasming as she curls herself into Rhea’s arms, burying her face into her neck. Rhea strokes her back and smooths her hair, kissing her shoulder softly until Liv finally stops shaking. Rhea gently lifts Liv up off of her lap just enough to pull the strap out of her and returns her to her previous position.

They sit there for a moment, holding each other. The silence around them isn’t deafening like it once was, but is now tranquil. It lulls their racing heartbeats and sharp breaths as they melt into each other’s embrace. Liv pushes herself off of Rhea’s body, eyes heavy with fatigue and something else Rhea can’t identify.

“You okay?” Rhea asks softly, hoping she wasn’t too rough.

Liv nods with a gentle smile. She was more than just okay, really. She tilts her head slightly and gazes at Rhea, a realization having hit her. “You didn’t get to finish.” she points out.

Rhea smiles, touched by her thoughtfulness. “That’s alright. I’m more than satisfied.” she reassures her. Sure, she was very close earlier but the contented bliss she felt at the moment made up for the lack of orgasm in her mind.

Liv shook her head in protest. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she actually owed Rhea something. “Please let me.” she says in a soft voice, her index finger following the tattooed lines on Rhea’s forearm. She doesn’t need to specify what she wants to do. Unspoken communication had been one of the things she and Rhea had been the best at back when they were a team.

Rhea sees the genuine tenderness painted across Liv’s features and agrees. Liv rolls off of her before Rhea attempts to undo the harness around her hips before she’s stopped by Liv’s hands. Liv motions for her to shift down the bed and lay back completely before she unfastens the harness with ease, sliding it down Rhea’s legs and tossing it to the side of the bed. She positions herself on her stomach between Rhea’s legs, bringing them over her shoulders so they could rest there. Rhea’s cunt is coated in her own arousal accumulated from being inside of Liv for so long. Liv plants a sweet kiss right on Rhea’s clit before beginning to devour her.

Rhea’s back arches up off the bed when she feels Liv’s tongue swirl over her swollen clit and the jewelry that embellished it. Her fingers found themselves gripping Liv’s hair, pulling lightly as she moaned her name sweetly. Liv inserts a finger into her hole and pistons in and out of her gently while sucking on her pearl. Every move she makes is meticulous. Every lick, every suck, every penetration isn’t without intention. Liv isn’t in any rush to make Rhea cum, in fact she wants her to savor it for as long as possible. However, she isn’t surprised when she does in only a matter of moments. Rhea mewls Liv’s name and nothing else as she climaxes around her fingers, like her name is the only thing she can think of when finally arriving to a state of everlasting ecstasy. She’s far quieter than Liv but Liv feels that her noises mean so much more than her own do.

Liv remains between Rhea’s thighs, placing small kisses here and there until Rhea finally catches her breath. She crawls back up to join her where she lay and places her head on Rhea’s chest, kissing it when she does. Liv listens to Rhea’s heartbeat slowly return to its normal steady pace. This all feels so intimate.

“You wanna spend the night?” Rhea asks quietly, her voice almost a whisper. She doesn’t really even fully understand why she’s asking, considering she and Liv technically still hate each other. But she would be an even bigger asshole if she made her cry, fucked the everloving shit out of her, and then kicked her out. The last thing she needed was to give Liv yet another reason to want her dead.

“Sure.” Liv replies, equally surprised at both the question and her answer. She rolls off the bed and follows Rhea into her hotel bathroom, unable to ignore he dull ache in her thighs from the vigor which Rhea fucked her with.

Inside the shower, they take turns washing each other. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter besides them in that very moment together. The warm water washed away the soap on their bodies and any residue the kisses they were unable to stop giving each other had left behind. After they had dried off, Rhea let Liv borrow another one of her shirts for the night before climbing into bed together.

Liv nestles herself into Rhea, inhaling the smell of laundry detergent and body wash as she did so. Rhea wraps her arms around her as well and holds her close. They lay in the dark room quietly for a few minutes before Rhea breaks the silence.

“So… are we ever going to talk about this?” she asks, a bit apprehensive of what this would mean for not only their relationship but Liv’s relationship with Dominik as well.

Liv thinks to herself for a moment, unsure of how to go about things as well. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But don’t think this means that I forgive you for everything you’ve done.” she says.

Rhea chuckles, and the sound warms Liv’s heart more than she’d like to admit. “I know. And I still want my title back.” she responds, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Liv giggles.

They sigh, feeling satisfied and fulfilled. They both knew that this was only a matter of time coming. It was honestly a miracle they were able to hold off for as long as they did because one thing was for sure: they would never stop coming back to each other.

── •✧• ──

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley smut #wwe #wwe nxt #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #liv morgan #liv morgan x reader #liv4brutality #wlw post #lesbian

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legally-allowed-to-slime · 2 days ago

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ok the way gem actually was walking towards pearl's general area while pearl was holding the mace. and idk if she actually saw pearl but im pretty sure gem looked up, turned back and walked right to where skizz asked her to??? and pearl just had to stand there and watch as gem basically gave the kill to skizz. like ohhh my god i have so many thoughts about this but all i can say rn is what in the world of yuri.

- 🐫

it’s so funny how they spent half their episodes effectively trying to provoke the other person as much as possible

i mean, do i even need to explain. they want each other baaaaad. on surface it might seem like another failing-to-kill-gem bit, especially with the comical sequences of pearl putting down the creeper eggs and gem easily dodging. however, both pearl and gem approach their “designated” roles of would-be killer and exasperated target a little differently than they did before. pearl doesn’t try her best, and gem doesn’t mock her like she did mumbo/tango.

gem and pearl hold each other in high esteem. even when they hate each other they obviously still respect the other’s skill. i suspect this is part of why gem was so offended when pearl tried to “2v1” her with impulse; because pearl was being stupid by underestimating herself, and then obviously because it was SL all over again.

let’s not even talk about both of them beelining for a camel. this is by far the number one WL ship right now in terms of content and actual interactions (besides ethubs). it’s not shipper mind, they’re actively pulling these stunts to see how crazy they can drive the fandom. like, the thirsty comment, “my poor red pearl”, “gem you’re beautiful”??? i swear they’re scheming on discord before recording or something (jk i know they aren’t).

cc!pearl did mention on stream that she should probably back off which is funny because it shows she didn’t pick up the obvious social cues that gem wanted to give her a chance by offering a 1v1 instead of flat out saying “don’t kill me” or “you suck at killing me”. also, if there are other pearl stream watchers reading this post, you would know that pearl said the same thing about not wanting to bother gem too much over the pickle bit, which is why she dropped it so suddenly. honestly very considerate of her

as for their convo on the camel. gem is explicitly grasping at straws over the end portal thing, but “did you even look me in the face during the murder camel… thing” is a great one-liner out of context. i thought it was going to be like a “you couldn’t even face me properly” but no it was just over the yellow life skin. pearl defending the disloyal allegations by saying scar was her ally is funny as well because it was the exact same argument she gave scott and i don’t think she understands that gem and scott have very different priorities. and gem clarifies she wasn’t upset over the betrayal (suree) but over the 2v1 which reveals some interesting things about her character and moral code which i’ll leave to the gem mains*. i do hope pearl keeps up the “how much do you love/hate me” thing though it’s a funny bit in general, plays into the pining/unmoved dynamic, and opens up the conversation. fluff duo that wants to be angst so badly

and if you’re following me and for some reason don’t watch gem or pearl, please do. there’s a reason why everyone’s saying they’re flirting because they’re toeing the line as close as you can.

what can i even add to this. it’s like going to a michelin restaurant and pointing out that the food is good.

*i always say this but i am effectively a gem main. i think her character is just too difficult for me and i don’t want to admit that i can’t figure out how to approach it

#ask #i didn’t proofread this i need a little more time to rewatch and process their episodes #so it’s not very coherent

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sufferu · 2 days ago

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Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”

As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.

But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life

I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.

As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.

But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.

But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)

(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)

#rem #remsuba #meta #my inbox #now that’s what I call a dogshow #natsuki subaru

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prettymfwrites · 2 days ago

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

Mom Ellie x mom Dina x pregnant reader

The family life of You, Dina, and Ellie plus the rest of our beloved people<3

--------------

The cozy little house in Jackson was full of warmth and life. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting soft golden hues on the wooden floors. JJ was sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, babbling as he tried to stack a tower of blocks. Ellie crouched beside him, helping stabilize his wobbly creation, while Dina leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the scene with a soft smile.

You sat on the couch with a hand resting over your growing belly, a rare moment of rest in the busy household. At five months pregnant, you were starting to feel the fatigue more acutely, and everyone around you seemed to notice.

“Hey,” Dina called from the kitchen, glancing at you over her shoulder. “You good? Need water or something?”

You shook your head with a small smile. “I’m fine, just enjoying the show.”

Ellie looked up from her spot on the floor, her green eyes flicking to you with concern. “You sure? You’ve been sitting a while. Maybe we should prop your feet up or something.”

You laughed softly. “I’m okay, Ellie. Really.”

But before you could convince her further, the front door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, followed by Jesse.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Joel said, lifting a basket filled with freshly baked bread and other treats Maria had sent over. “Maria thought y’all could use some extra hands today.”

“Extra hands are always welcome,” Dina said, stepping forward to grab the basket. “Especially with these two being overprotective mother hens.”

Joel chuckled as Jesse leaned down to ruffle JJ’s hair. “Overprotective’s not a bad thing,” Jesse said, throwing a wink in your direction. “Especially with this one baking up another troublemaker.”

“Hey!” you protested, laughing. “You’re all acting like I can’t even move anymore.”

“You’re pregnant,” Ellie said firmly, standing and brushing her hands on her jeans. “You’re not supposed to be moving. Or lifting. Or doing anything remotely exhausting.”

“She’s not wrong,” Joel added, his tone teasing but warm. “Why do you think Maria’s been sending me over so much? Keepin’ you all in line.”

Maria’s timing was impeccable because not long after, she arrived with even more food and supplies. She gave you a pointed look as she set down a casserole dish. “And how are you feeling today?”

You sighed dramatically, throwing your hands up. “I’m fine. But apparently, I’m under house arrest.”

Maria laughed, patting your shoulder. “Good. That means they’re doing their job.”

---

Living with Ellie, Dina, and JJ felt like being part of a chaotic yet loving symphony. Ellie was the early riser, always the first to make coffee and check the perimeter. Dina, on the other hand, was the night owl, staying up late to tidy up or prep for the next day.

JJ was the glue that held everything together. His giggles filled the house, and he had both Ellie and Dina wrapped around his little fingers. Ellie was the patient teacher, showing him how to draw simple shapes or hold a small wooden guitar. Dina was the playful one, chasing him around the house and encouraging his endless curiosity.

You found your rhythm in their chaos, though everyone made sure you were never left to do too much.

“Hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Ellie said one afternoon when she caught you trying to carry a basket of laundry upstairs.

“Laundry?” you replied innocently.

“Not happening.” Ellie took the basket from you with a shake of her head. “You’re supposed to be resting. Dina, tell her!”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Dina called from the kitchen, though her amused tone betrayed her stance.

Maria often stopped by with little gifts or advice, her maternal instincts kicking in whenever she saw you. She and Joel worked well together, often taking JJ for walks so you could have a moment of peace.

---

One day, a minor scare threw everyone into overdrive. You’d been outside tending to the small garden when you tripped over an uneven patch of ground. It wasn’t serious—you caught yourself before falling—but the commotion had Dina rushing outside, followed closely by Ellie, Joel, and Jesse, who happened to be passing by.

“What happened?” Dina asked, her hands on your arms as she inspected you for injuries.

“Nothing! I just lost my footing,” you said, trying to downplay the situation.

“Lost your footing?” Ellie repeated, her brows furrowed. “You could’ve—”

“I didn’t, though,” you interrupted, giving her a reassuring smile.

Joel placed a steadying hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “She’s fine, kid. No need to hover.”

Ellie grumbled something under her breath but didn’t argue. Dina helped you back inside, muttering about how they were going to bubble-wrap you until the baby arrived.

---

Evenings were the best part of the day. The five of you (and Maria or Joel on occasion) would gather in the living room for quiet time. JJ would sit in your lap, occasionally patting your belly and asking questions about the “baby in there.”

Ellie would strum her guitar softly while Dina leaned against you, her head on your shoulder. Joel and Maria would exchange stories from their patrols, and Jesse would crack jokes that had everyone laughing.

Despite the dangers of the world outside, the little house felt like a sanctuary—a place where love and family came first.

Ellie would often whisper to you at night, her hand resting protectively on your stomach. “I’m gonna keep you safe,” she’d say softly, as if making a promise to you and the little one on the way.

Dina, half-asleep, would usually murmur her agreement, pulling you closer. “We all will.”

And as you lay between them, with JJ sleeping soundly in the next room and your growing family wrapped in warmth, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect life.

---

JJ IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST THING

I take requests!

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gabgabwrites · 1 day ago

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LOLITA | Patrick Zweig

4 -> LIBERTY

summary ⇝ it’s hard to avoid your constant wet dreams, especially when they’re in the form of your neighbour, but you had hoped that the infamous American celebration and your brother in town would help subdue your ludicrous thoughts.

warnings ⇝ language, drinking, smoking, sexual themes! (FINALLY), fingering, cum eating, light choking, dirty talk(?), finger sucking, outdoor sex, mdni

Time had passed, and it was a couple of weeks since the talk between you and your dad. You'd been keeping true to your word, not going near Patrick. It had not been easy at all. Every time you heard his name or saw him from afar, a small part of you longed to walk up and talk to him. But you didn't, you stayed strong, determined to respect your dad.

On the bright side, your older brother was coming to visit, and as you prepared for his arrival, you found yourself looking forward to the distraction.

While your dad went down to the local corner store to get corn for your corn bread you offered to make, one of your two contributions to tomorrow's day of festivities, you waited on the swinging sofa on your porch for your brother. A family friend had offered to fetch him from the airport and drive him down to the park.

As you waited on the porch swing, your ears perked up at the sound of a car approaching. The familiar scent of gasoline and the low grumble of the engine signified your brother's arrival.

You stood up from the swinging chair and walked towards the driveway, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. Your heart thumped in your chest as the car stopped, and the door creaked open, revealing your long-awaited brother stepping out.

He locked eyes with you and grinned, a familiar smile that instantly eased some of your nervousness. He sauntered over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

He was wearing his old college jersey, he was the only one who could afford it, the expensive cologne wafting into your nose. "I've missed you, Charlie." You mumbled into the fabric.

"Missed you more, sis," Charlie said, before removing his arms. "Is pa home?"

As he pulled away, a mix of affection and banter, you nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. "He's grabbing some supplies at the corner store. He should be back soon."

You studied Charlie for a moment; there was something different about his appearance... The cologne, his clothes. It all added up, and your heart leaped in your chest. He saw your gaze, and a sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I take it you've noticed the changes, huh?" He chuckled, knowing that you weren't oblivious to his newly acquired finer taste in cologne and clothing.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a light punch in the arm. "Yeah, I have," you replied. "You look all grown up, all college-y and sophisticated."

Charlie laughed, rubbing his arm dramatically. "You're just jealous I finally look like a real adult." He flashed a cocky grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. You couldn't help but smile, the banter familiar and comfortable between you two.

"Oh okay, mister. Since you're all real adult now, you can help me start on my raspberry pie."

He raised an eyebrow playfully at your comment. "Yeah, just what every real adult wants: pie-making at the request of a younger sibling." Despite the lighthearted tone, he was clearly willing to go along with your request.

"You get it, now let's get your bags and then we can start, don't need to worry about jet lag." You said, walking to the car, greeting the family friend before going to the trunk. Once you had everything in the bags, you closed the trunk, taking a moment to look at your brother. "Ready to start on that pie, oh mighty adult?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "So much attitude, but yes, let's go."

You laughed at his eye roll, enjoying the light-hearted banter. "Alright, grumpy adult, follow me then.” You led the way into the house, your brother trailing behind you with his bags.

He set his belongings in the living room before following you into the kitchen. You gave him the job of picking the raspberries while you got the pots and pans ready to make the jam.

Charlie settled into his task, grabbing a basket and heading to the nearby raspberry bushes. once he picked each ripe berry, carefully placing it in the basket, he kept up the conversation. "So, any gossip I've missed while l've been gone?"

He asked as he walked inside, placing the decently full basket down by the sink to wash. You nodded. "Janice is pregnant with her sixth."

Charlie winced at your words and let out an exaggerated, sympathetic groan. "Sixth? Man, you'd think she'd slow down after the fourth, right?"

You snorted. "Ay, maybe it's some sort of an...interest, to have more kids. Oh, we also have a new neighbour." You kept it at that, you didn't want to say anymore.

You could practically hear the gears turning in his mind as you mentioned the new neighbor. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "New neighbor, huh? Anyone interesting?" Charlie leaned against the counter, clearly intrigued.

You turned to hide your flush while you poured sugar into the saucepan. "You can say, he isn't really around much."

Charlie's interest piqued even further, and he chuckled at your attempt to downplay whatever was clearly on his mind. "Not really around? Sounds mysterious," he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. "I've got a feeling there's more to this guy than you're letting on."

You shook your head. "Nope, he's just a regular guy. His name's Patrick, and that's honestly all I know." You looked over to Charlie who began to mush the berries.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at your response, clearly unconvinced by your claim. "Come on, you can't expect me to believe that's all there is to this 'Patrick'," he gave you a knowing look, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "You're keeping something from me, I can tell."

You gave him a look. "He's new, and I don't know him well, we haven't spoken except when I greeted him once." You lord through your teeth, saved by the door opening, revealing your father, carrying two, small shopping bags

Your father entered the kitchen just in time, providing a welcome interruption to the conversation. He noticed the tension between you and Charlie, but didn't comment on it, simply focusing on unloading the groceries.

Charlie's gaze lingered on you for a moment before turning to your dad. "Hey Pa, how's things?"

Your dad looked up, a rare, broad smile on his face. "It's good, better now that you're back."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know, Pa. He's a real adult now, he says, he does real adult things, like pick berries." You snicker.

Charlie chuckled at your sarcastic remark, amused by your attempt at banter. "Hey, don't knock berry-picking. It's harder than it looks."

Your dad let out a small laugh but then spoke up again. "Alright, both of you behave. Let's not start arguing already."

You turned the oven on, and started scooping the berries in the saucepan to make the jam. "We aren't, this is sibling love."

Your dad nodded, his smile widening slightly. "I know, I know. Just no arguing over who gets more pancakes again, okay?"

Charlie rolled his eyes at your dad, then turned his attention back to the jam. "Hey, I get the first pancakes, right?"

"Ha! You wish, I obviously because I'm dad's favourite."

Your dad let out an exaggerated gasp. "Who said I have a favorite, young lady? What a ridiculous idea."

Charlie snickered, clearly enjoying the banter. "Yeah, who would even suggest such a thing?"

You clicked your tongue, focusing on the jam. "Whatever, you two can leave, I'll make the pie and cornbread, go talk about women and sports or something."

Your dad's smile deepened, clearly enjoying the sibling banter. "Alright, alright, we'll give you some space then."

Charlie rolled his eyes at your words, a smirk on his face. "Women and sports? You've got it all wrong, we're grown men now. We discuss much more sophisticated topics."

A laugh bubbles from your chest. "Right, go talk about politics and berry picking."

Charlie fake gasped, playing along with the banter. "Excuse me, berry picking is a serious and manly discussion topic."

Your dad chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that, boys." The two disappeared leaving you to finish up the two dishes, and store them in the oven for tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, it was the day of all American pride and glory; Independence Day, meaning you'd have yet another communal day together. This time it was a lunch and party situation, and was originally planned by your mother, before it got handed over to Lucia, the nimble, quiet lady who's close friends to Miss Higgins.

The next day came soon, and you felt ecstatic. The outfit you picked was perfect for the occasion: a gingham bikini top that provided a bit more coverage than your previous choice, paired with denim shorts and your cowboy boots. The red and blue ribbons in your braided hair added a touch of patriotic flair, tying in with the Independence Day spirit. It was a stylish and comfortable outfit, and you felt complete in it.

You looked in the mirror, studying your reflection, and a smile spread across your face. You were ready for the day ahead. You laughed at the sight of your brother's shirt, which was absolutely plastered with graphics of the American flag. It was a bit over-the-top, but that was part of the fun of the occasion. You couldn't help but find it amusing and a bit endearing.

After a somewhat of a long walk, carrying your two dishes, you found the party area where there were throw tables open in rows, and plastic chairs ok each side. Red, white and blue balloons were tied to some chairs, and a red, white, and blue table runner stretched down the length of each table, creating a lively and patriotic atmosphere. It was clear that the host had put in a lot of effort to make the day a celebration of Americana.

There was the familiar sight of neighbors gathering together, their voices mingling with the chatter of others in the distance, forming a collective hum of conversation.

Music played in the background, and the scent of food cooking wafted through the air like a promise of delicious sustenance. Everyone seemed relaxed and in good spirits, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

Everyone sat down, and you found yourself nestled comfortably between your brother and your father. In front of the crowd, Lucia stood on a chair, carefully balancing herself as she prepared to address the gathering. Her petite frame made it a bit comical, and you had to suppress a smile.

"I would just like to say a thank you for everyone's effort for today. It truly is lovely to be apart of a community so loving. I know Natalie would be extremely happy."

Her eyes found yours, your heart twisted at your mother's name, however, you managed to muster a small, forced smile in response to Lucia's words. The others in the crowd nodded and murmured in agreement, appreciating the sentiment.

"And it is thanks to her, that we get to carry out this tradition. But before we eat, l'd like to say a prayer." Lucia spoke, her voice clear and strong despite her precarious chair-sitting position. The other people in the group nodded and murmured in agreement, taking a moment to focus on the upcoming prayer.

You were about to put your head down when your eyes caught those that stared at you. Patrick had been lucky, or unlucky enough to sit in the same table as you, a few seats down. Your heart leaped at the eye contact. The brief eye contact made your heart skip a beat, and you had to take a quick, subtle breath to regain your composure.

He had an easy smile on his face, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment longer. There was an undeniable pull between you two, even from a short distance. The sight of him filled you with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

You rapidly blinked, turning your gaze down to your lap and try focus on the prayer. Despite your best efforts to divert your attention back to the prayer, the memory of the connection you'd shared with Patrick lingered in your mind. Your hands clutched the material of your shorts, and you did your best to concentrate on the prayer, but his presence kept nagging at the edges of your thoughts.

The prayer concluded, and you breathed a slight sigh of relief as the attention shifted to the vast array of food spread out before you. Your eyes widened as you spotted all the delicious options, from burgers and hot dogs to a variety of salads and sides.

You ate yourself full, you indulged in quite a few beers, and the combination made your words come out just a little bit slurred.

Your balance was also similar to that of a new born gazelle, it was ungraceful but you tried to maintain your posture as you walked, and mingled with other people.

"I'm afraid," you hiccuped, "I'm going to have to find," another hiccup, "a washroom, sorry." You apologized to your neighbor with a slight shake of your head before excusing yourself and moving towards the washroom. Each step brought a slight stumble, your balance still off from the combination of alcohol and food. Your head was starting to feel a bit fuzzy, and you couldn't help but laugh at yourself as you made your way towards the restrooms.

Your trailer was far down, worst case you'd go to the tucked away, communal toilet, but you didn't feel like maneuvering your way that far in your current state. You needed a bit of support to walk straight without stumbling, and the walk would be quite the challenge, given your balance and the alcohol in your system.

You walked until you collapsed onto something, onto someone. A gasp ripped from your throat as you were awkwardly splashed over someone's lap, trying to get up and apologising profusely.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Look at the state of you." The familiar grumble of a voice came from the person.

You quickly regained your bearings, sitting up straight on his thighs before hastily standing up. His words were sharp, but there was a hint of concern beneath the sarcasm. "Um, I should stay away..." you hiccuped, "From you, Pa's orders." You mumbled, though didn't bother to walk away, instead, standing in front of Patrick with an awkward angle to your shoulders.

Patrick had a smirk on his face as he studied you, taking in your slightly sloppy appearance. "Oh yeah? What was the order? 'Stay away from me’? Didn't seem to be too effective, did it?"

"I tried to, you're just in the way." You motioned to where he sat on a camping chair, behind a trailer while he smoked a cigarette, empty beer bottle next to him, before your hand dropped and another hiccuped rolled out from you.

Patrick chuckled at your attempt to shift the blame, his gaze never leaving your face. "In the way? I could say the same about you, stumbling into me like this," Patrick sat there. He took a drag, the smoke curling up around his face as he watched you with an amused expression. "Looks like the alcohol's hit you pretty hard, sweetheart. Can you even walk straight?"

You nodded. "Yeah, see?"

You began to walk in a short line, nearly tripping over your own two feet, landing you falling back onto Patrick, who in an instant, caught you effortlessly, holding you steady so you wouldn't fall to the ground. His strong arms wrapped around you, preventing you from tumbling over.

"You shouldn't touch me." You mumbled, fingers toying with the collar of his red shirt while the other was ok his shoulder.

Patrick chuckled, his grip on you remaining firm, steadying you against his chest. "Sure, sweetheart."

You fidgeted with the red fabric of his shirt, your fingers playing at the collar. He glanced down at your fingers for a moment before looking back up at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shook your head. "No, it’s not right," you muttered, taking the cigarette from his lips and holding it between your fingers. "This's not right." You repeated.

Patrick smirked, when you seized the cigarette from his mouth. He continued to hold you pressed against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. "Oh, I'm well aware that it's not right. But sometimes, things are more fun when they aren't."

He raised an eyebrow teasingly, looking down at you as you repeated your words of disagreement. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, straining to get them to look at his eyes again. "More fun..." you mumbled, a small pout forming on your lips. "…I still think about that day by the river."

"Yeah? And what, exactly, were you remembering from that day at the river, sweetheart?" His gaze followed the direction of your gaze, watching your eyes struggle to avoid his lips and return to his eyes instead. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response as his voice lowered slightly.

"How you touched me. How your thumb was in m'mouth." You looked down, ashamed.

A low laugh rumbled in Patrick's chest as you recalled the memory of his touches, his thumb lingering in your mouth. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he leaned in, his voice dropping an octave. "That day by the river. It has a tendency to linger in my mind as well, sweetheart."

Your eyes flicked up to his, they were dark and hazy as they stared back at yours. "I want you to do it again." You admitted.

He held your gaze, the intensity in his own widening. "Is that so?" His arms tightened their grip around you, drawing you closer, his voice a low, gruff whisper. "You want me to touch you, like I did at the river?"

"Please?" You whined.

"Please?" Patrick echoed, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he heard your needy whimper. He studied your face, watching the way your eyes pleaded with him, how your voice trembled slightly. It was hard to resist when you looked at him like that. "Hmm, I suppose I could oblige, sweetheart. But only because you asked so nicely."

His hand came up to your face, his thumb running gently over your lip, mimicking the movement it had made by the river. The pad of his thumb pressed against the fullness of your lip, tracing its shape.

"Like this?" Patrick murmured, his voice thick with want. He leant forward, bridging the tiny gap between you, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. His breath was warm against your skin, the words leaving his mouth a barely whispered husk.

You eagerly tipped your chin down to take his thumb between your lips, nipping at the tip before, this time, taking the whole digit past your lips, groaning out at the feeling, and letting your eyes flutter shut.

White, hot pleasure went through him, his breathing growing ragged. He was enjoying this far more than he should, the feeling of your mouth around his thumb, the way your eyes fluttered, the way you let out that low, guttural sound.

"Sweetheart..." He spoke quietly, the word a soft exhale in the quiet space between you. "That's it. Open for me sweetheart." His voice was a low and gruff, a commanding quality to the tone.

Patrick's head tilted to one side as he watched your mouth eagerly move against his thumb. It was clear that he wanted more, wanted to feel more of your lips against his skin, but he was waiting, letting you take control for the moment.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Take your time." His gaze never left your mouth, his thumb pressing a little harder against your tongue.

So, you began to suck his thumb with a bit more vigour, head bobbing up and down while you gave him a very picturesque sight.

Patrick's breathing grew even rougher, a low and guttural groan rumbling in his chest as he worked his thumb further in your mouth, until his other fingers hooked onto your head, drawing you nearer.

Daringly, you let your eyes open, pupils meeting his, your eyes connecting with his dark, lustful eyes. He met your gaze without blinking, his own pupils dilated.

Patrick's fingers gently tightened their grip in your hair, tucked underneath a plait, tugging your head back slightly, exposing your throat.

He studied your face for a moment, his gaze tracing every feature, from your rosy, glossed lips to the way your throat bobbed under your skin.

Patrick drew closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You're a sight to see, sweetheart. All wrapped up in my fist and on my lap," You gave him a small grin, thumb still in your mouth. "Keep looking at me like that and I won't be able to keep my hands to myself for much longer, sweetheart."

You whimpered at the thought, your fingers tugging harder at his collar.

"Ah, that's it, sweetheart. Pull at me." Patrick felt your fingers tugging at his collar, at the fabric of his shirt. He held your gaze, watching the way your pupils darkened at his words. He could feel the heat rising through him, wanting to feel your touch, wanting to feel your body against his.

He was becoming increasingly impatient, and the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his thumb wasn't helping.

"Looking up at me," he paused for a moment, his breath catching, "mouth wrapped around my thumb." Patrick leant in, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He could feel heat coursing through him, a need for you growing with each second.

You gave his thumb one hard suck before removing your lips, a string of saliva connecting them to his thumb.

The sound echoed through the small space between you, the sight of your mouth trailing an invisible thread of saliva to his thumb sending a jolt through him.

Patrick released your head from his grip, watching you with darkened eyes as he reached up to wipe the saliva away from his finger. You felt more brazen with alcohol in you, so with a ragged breath in, you leant in close. "Remember at river day when you asked me if I had sinful thoughts, and I said yes?"

He looked down at you, his expression shifting to one of curiosity and lust, the answer to your question was enough to spark his attention. "I do indeed remember that question, sweetheart."

You swallowed, your bottom lip brushing his small beard. "I think about you, I've thought about you since that day. Sinful thoughts... bad, bad thoughts…"

Patrick's gaze darkened, the lust in his eyes growing stronger at your admission. He leant in closer, his body tensing as he drew you closer, pressing you against his chest once again. His hand tangled in your hair, tugging on it gently. "Oh, sweetheart," he rumbled in response, his voice dropping an octave, "I've thought about you as well."

"Tell me, tell me please? I'll tell you what I've thought."

Patrick held your gaze, his body still pressed close against yours, his hand still hooked in your hair. He hummed, a low and gruff sound in his chest, as he looked down at you, studying your face. He let out a sigh, his voice a gruff whisper. "You want to know what l've thought about? You really want to hear it, baby?"

You eagerly nodded, shifting your hips and trying to ignore the bulge pressing into your thigh. "Yes." You breathed.

Patrick watched you for a moment, taking a breath to steady his mind. He was struggling to control himself, the feeling of you against him and the words that followed were beginning to wear down his sanity.

"I've thought about you, a lot," he began, his voice a low whisper, his mouth close to your ear. "About the way you look at me, and the way you feel against me. I've thought about what it would be like to actually kiss you. I've thought 'bout those lips, on mine..." he glanced over at you, seeing you tentatively listen. "About them prettily sucking my cock, I thought about using you, fucking this cunt so many times."

You gasped at his utterly vulgar words, feeling something stir in your lower belly as he spoke, something thick and hot coil in your tummy that burnt hot like coal.

Patrick chuckled, the sound low and gruff. "Oh, there's that noise I like to hear..." He reached up and cupped your chin, his thumb gently tracing your bottom lip. "Did you like that, baby?"

"Yes, I do," you said, an aroused tone in your voice. "I've thought about all those to, about your fingers," you moved to toy with his fingers. "On me, in me. I've...I've thought about your... your cock too." Heat flashed in your cheeks as you spoke.

Patrick couldn't hide the smirk that pulled at his lips at your words. His eyes darkened, the desire within him growing, fueled by your confession of thoughts. "You've thought about my fingers, my cock, have you?" He let out a low, gruff laugh, his hand wrapping around your wrist, stopping your movements. "You've thought about them where exactly, sweetheart?"

You leant back, grabbing his wrist and moving to towards you, until his fingertips brushed the seam of your shorts. "Here." You told him.

His breath caught, the air in the small space suddenly feeling far too thick and hot. Patrick's eyes darkened, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he felt your words and the movement of your hand. He watched as you moved his fingers, his eyes tracing the path they made.

"Here?" He repeated, his voice a low, gruff whisper. "You want my fingers here, sweetheart?"

He pushed up, the action was only slightly felt, but it was enough to have you choke on a gasp. "Y-Yes, and more."

Patrick felt the way you gasped and the sound was like music to his ears. He relished in it, relished in having that sort of power over you. He held your gaze with a heated look.

"More?" he repeated, the word rough, almost predatory in tone. He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear. "Like what more, sweetheart?"

"You know." You were to shy to say, hips trying to shift on his hand, your gaze drifted to the side while you gave him a small, bashful smile.

"I know?" Patrick feigned confusion, his voice a low, gruff rumble, as he tightened his grip on your wrist, keeping his fingers against the seam of your shorts. "Use your words."

You glanced to your side, not seeing anyone before turning back to Patrick. "In me, I think about your fingers in me a lot, how they’d fill me, feel me."

Patrick chuckled softly at your words, the sound low and huskier than before. He knew what you were referring to, knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige. He held his breath for a second, watching as you glanced away, the sight of you looking so shy bringing a small pang of affection through him.

"Is that right, hm?" He continued, his hand still in your wrist. "You think about my fingers..." he began, "Here?" He moved his fingers up, enough to pinch your zipper and bring it down, enough to give him space to slip the tips of his fingers past the fabric and find your soiled underwear.

You moaned at the contact, fingers clenching around his wrist before releasing it and planting both hands on his shoulders. "Further...in."

That sent another glimmer of arousal through Patrick, his fingers curling up in response. Patrick savoured the way his fingers made contact, feeling the way your body responded, the sound of your moans in his ears. A grin split on his lips, feeling your hips push back onto his hand. "Someone's eager." He murmured, his voice gruff but still carrying a tone of amusement.

"Someone might see." You whined, thighs clenching when you felt his other finger brush the side of your underwear, where your leg met your cunt, having you shiver and lean forward, pressing your face into his chest.

"They won't see," Patrick replied, his voice still low and gravelly. He chuckled slightly as he felt you clench, the sound of it muffled by his chest. "Look around, sweetheart. Nobody's here."

"They can hear, someone might hear. Oh, god, what would Pa think?"

He snorted, the sound coming out a gruff chuckle. "What would your father think, indeed," he replied. His hand moved in a circular motion, his focus remaining on the task at hand, but he couldn't help the teasing tone in his voice. "Don't worry sweetheart. This will be our little secret."

Patrick had to bite back a groan when he decided to shift your panties to the side, feeling your bare arousal drip onto his fingers.

He watched your expression closely, studying the way you responded to his touch, the sounds you made, the way your body trembled slightly.

Patrick let out a low, guttural sound in his chest, the sight and sensation stirring something within him. He moved his free hand to the front of your jaw, his grip firm but gentle. "You really are sensitive, sweetness..." He rumbled.

Your fingers curled and you whimpered when his finger dipped no less then half an inch into your weeping hole, the thought of him being there drove you wild, and the feeling of him pushing the boundary of being there made you more wild, bucking your hips down. "A little more, Patrick."

"Impatient, are we?" He teased, a hint of amusement in his voice, his other hand gently stroked your back. "I'm just as eager as you, sweetheart, but l've got manners." He murmured into your hair.

Patrick dragged his finger out before pushing it back in, this time to the second knuckle, another finger dancing at the edge of your hole, waiting to join. You sighed out, melting into him as you relished him working you open.

"There, now does that feel better?" He teased, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

He could feel the way your body relaxed into his, the sound of your sighing, the heat between you growing as he continued his slow, deliberate movements.

"Almost." You rasped out, gasping when his finger bent, pushing against that one sensitive, spongy spot within you.

"Almost?" He repeated, his tone a mixture of amusement and gruff determination. He felt the way you tensed when his finger bent, how you gasped, and he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. "You want more, darling?"

"I want it all," you mumbled, mind beginning to haze as a second finger pushed in, making you wince, but craze it more. "Please?"

Patrick chuckled softly at your response, loving the way you were starting to come apart beneath his touch.

"Oh sweetheart, you're so impatient, aren't you?" He purred, his hand stilling for a moment, as he watched your reaction. "You want more?Then I'll give it to you, baby," he replied, his voice a gruff, gravelly murmur. "Lift that pretty little head off my chest," he continued, his hand moving up to gently grasp your chin. "Look at me."

You raised your head and looked at Patrick with low, sultry eyes that held a sense of eagerness to them.

"Good girl," he said, his free hand coming up to caress your face. "I want you to relax, okay baby?"

"Okay." You mumbled as you shifted, your body adjusting into a comfortable position. Patrick could see the eagerness in your eyes, and it made his heart skip a beat. He moved, his hand still on your chin, holding your gaze.

"That's it, just like that, sweetheart," he murmured, his gruff tone filling the space. "Just relax. You trust me?"

You looked deep into his eyes for solidarity, the dark hues swirling honey in the light. "Yes, I...l trust you."

"That's my sweet girl," he murmured, his voice a low, gruff rumble. "I'm gonna give you just what you want, now."

He pulled his wrist back before he sunk two of his fingers in you, the thick digits giving you a pleasurable pain.

Patrick looked down at you, his eyes locked on your face, his gaze burning with a dark intensity. He noticed the look in your eyes, the way they were filled with trust, and it filled that feeling within him even more. "Perfect," he murmured, his tone soft. "That's my sweetheart."

Your head tipped back as you moaned when he began to piston his fingers in and out of you, the sopping, wet squelches of your cunt and your breathy moans filling your ears.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a gruff mix of arousal and awe. "Imagine what your poor daddy would think if he saw his little girl getting finger fucked by her old neighbour. The one she couldn't stay away from."

You moaned, the feeling of his palm pushing past your folds to nudge against your aching and neglected bundle of nerves. "Patrick," you moaned. "Don't talk about—shit!" You gasped when his fingers coiled inside you.

He smiled slightly at your moans, the sound of his name on your lips adding to his growing arousal. "What? Got something to say, baby?" He grunted.

You looked down at him with a pout on your lips, an upset look to your face before it began to melt into one that showed the effect he was having on you, eyes rolling back and jaw slacking into something more submissive. He reveled in the sight of you, the way the effects of his touch were clearly taking toll on you.

Your back arched, giving you the space to grind back onto his fingers, revelling in how they felt inside you. "Mm, Patrick... feels good."

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a gruff, low and reverberating in your ears. "Use my fingers how you like." Patrick's words send a shiver down your spine, the effect he had on you intensifying with each passing second.

"Patrick, I..." your voice caught a breath, your mind going hazy. "Please?"

He mulled over the way you spoke, your voice breaking as you reached the limits of your self-control. He knew you were struggling, on the verge of begging for what you wanted, what he knew you needed.

"Please, what, baby?" he asked, his voice a teasing murmur. "Use your words." You felt yourself teetering on the edge of the cliff of pleasure, your mind swirling with need, with a desperate want so vivid it almost hurt. You needed him, you wanted him, and you knew he knew it.

You just needed to say the words. "Patrick, I... I need you, I need you, I need you. Please..."

Patrick watched as the battle waged within you, the internal struggle of desire and restraint clear on your face. He could see the desperate want in your eyes, the way you were teetering on the edge of control. "Please, what?" he prompted, his tone gruff, a mix of amusement and frustration.

Patrick found out he loved pushing you just like he was doing now. He knew he had you right where he wanted you, teetering on the edge of the precipice you were on. And yet, you weren't there. You hadn't begged him, you hadn't given in completely.

Patrick felt your body tense with desperation, the need so palpable that he could almost taste it in the air. He smiled, his voice a low, gruff rumble.

"Come on, baby. Say it."

You gasped out, a warm fire licked between your legs, your lower tummy bubbling over. It was clear you hadn't been touched in a long, long time.

"Please, Patrick? Help...help me cum?"

He watched as you spoke, the way your voice quivered and broke, the sound of your plea so desperate, so genuine. And yet, it hadn't quite been enough. He needed to hear your need.

"Say my name, sweetheart," he commanded, his voice a soft rumble in the silence. He could feel the tension in you, the way your body was tensing, begging for release. "Come on, baby, and I will."

"Patrick, Patrict, Patrick, oh!" Your mouth fell open when his teeth latched onto the sensitive part of your neck and he slipped his fingers out, focusing purely on your bundle of nerves and he drew practiced circles on them that had your hips uncontrollably jerk, adding to the pleasure.

Patrick watched as the sound of his name spilled from your mouth in a litany, a mantra. His tongue lapping over your bruised neck as he pinched and tweaked at your bundle of nerves, hearing your voice crescendo and forte, it was a surprise that no neighbor had come rushing.

"Mm, Patrick, I'm...'m... fuck!" Your toes curled and your body shook as you unraveled on his fingers, soaking his fingers and your shorts.

He loved the way you moaned his name, the way you gasped and writhed, his fingers not stopping as he worked you through your orgasm, watching you sputter and shake, slowly coming down from your high.

Patrick slipped his fingers out, coated in your honeyed slick. Greedily, he sucked them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. Slobbering and drooling just from how sweet you tasted. You watched with droopy eyes, mouth agape and transfixed on his lips.

He looked up at you as he pulled his fingers from his lips, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. He was watching you intently, drinking in the sight of you.

Patrick saw the way you looked at him, your mouth hanging open while your eyes seemed to glaze over in pleasure. "Enjoying the view, baby?" He asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded stiffly, eyeing the shimmer of your cum on his bottom lips, leaning forward and sucking it off, his beard scratching your chin. The sensation of your tongue and lips over his own sent a shiver down his spine, the mixture of the taste and the feel of your mouth sending a jolt of arousal through him.

Patrick loved the way you responded, the way you took control for a moment, and he couldn't help the small shudder that wracked his body. "You're so damn dirty, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice gruff but soft. "So fucking dirty."

His hands found your hips and sanctioned on them, tongue pushing past your lips and rolling against yours.

Patrick could feel the heat between you building again, the way your bodies instinctively moved together, seeking more contact. He tightened his grip on your hips, pulling your body flush against his, as he deepened the kiss. He could feel your tongue against his, the way it moved and responded, the kiss growing more intense and heated.

You gasp, a thought infiltrated your mind, as you pulled back. "I...I have to go. Pa might come looking for me." You sulked. Patrick saw the look in your eyes, the way you suddenly pulled away.

He could sense your hesitation, the conflict between your desire and your responsibility. He felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it, his brow furrowing slightly.

"You're right, you should probably head home." He said, his voice a bit gruff, a little bit of a tinge of disappointment there.

That's when you remembered that Patrick wasn't paid any pleasure, at least, not in the way you hoped, you looked down, seeing the boulder of a bulge in his jeans, fingers itching to touch it. "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't help, you must be upset."

He watched as you looked down, noticing the way your eyes locked on his jeans, on the very obvious bulge there. Patrick couldn't help the small jolt of arousal that went through him at the sight of your fingers twitching, longing to touch him.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he replied, his voice a gruff rasp. "I'm alright."

You slowly nodded. "I did want to see you, by the way. I was forced not to, but I'll try see you, we'll have to sneak around Pa and everyone else, and my brother... he arrived yesterday."

Patrick nodded back, understanding. He knew the difficulty of your situation, the way you were caught between your desires and your familial obligations. "That's a tricky situation, baby," he replied, his voice a low, gruff rumble. "But I understand. We'll figure it out, alright?"

You nodded, sighing softly when he pulled you in by the back of the neck and gave you a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Okay, yeah, but I do have to go." You winced when you climbed off his lap, zipping your shorts up and ignoring how they stuck to your thighs.

"I know, baby." He said, his voice a low rasp. "You gotta go."

"Don't forget to keep your door unlocked," you checked over your shoulder before looking back at Patrick. "See you then?"

Patrick nodded, his eyes glued to you as you spoke. He watched as you checked over your shoulder before looking back at him, your eyes locking with his. "I won't forget, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight." He replied, his voice a hoarse, low rumble.

"Bye now." You gave him a small wave.

He returned your wave, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was reluctant to let you go, even as he knew you had to leave. But he knew he had to let you go, no matter how much he wanted to keep you there, with him. "Bye, sweetheart." Patrick said, his voice gruff. And you waited hours to go by, having something to be excited about, so soon.

You were going to go visit your clandestine lover, one way or another.

[NEXT]

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