#kilo can’t take this

[buggybugkilo]

Anyway help cant read Japanese+don’t know where to find translations rn 😭 (if there are any ahsdhh)

[prisonhannibal]

These are messages between me and my friend Nader @abdalsalam1990 on friday (1st of november 2024) after I asked about his day. Screenshots posted with permission from Nader, so that he can share in his words what he’s going through. Thankfully he told me the bombings calmed down a little on saturday, and they were able to stay. But Nader’s family has already been displaced nine times, and it could happen again at any time. They urgently need to get out of Gaza when the border opens because his father Ahmed has cancer and needs treatment outside of Gaza, and his niece, Iman, who’s only one year old is suffering from malnutrition. Can you even imagine how terrifying it is that the funds you’re saving up for evacuation once the border opens again are the same ones you have to spend to even survive that long?

While fearing for their lives from heavy bombings, Nader and his family still have to worry about the cost of transportation to be able to evacuate. Prices are sky high in gaza, for example a kilo of tomatoes costs €40. On top of that, it’s getting colder fast. The family doesn’t have adequate clothing or blankets and need to buy it. When you have the opportunity to help this family survive the winter and feed themselves until they’re finally able to get to safety, when you can relieve their stress about money in a war zone, why wouldn’t you?

Please help Nader’s family. If you can’t donate, listening to his story and sharing it will help it reach the people who can. I’ve been in daily contact with him for a month now, and Nader works so hard every day to get help for his family, please make sure he knows that the world hasn’t forgotten them and that people are still listening and care. It will give him and his family the hope and motivation to continue this work. No one should have to do this to survive, especially not a seventeen year old boy. Your donation can help take this weight off his shoulders so that he can pursue his hope and dreams of going to university and so he can finally sleep safely without the sound of bombs all night.

This campaign is number 4 on this spreadsheet.

€30,180 raised out of €50,000, we are so so close to the short term goal of €33,000, they need only €2,820 to be two thirds to their goal. Will you donate to help this family survive and get to safety? ❤️🇵🇸

Can you join me and match my donation of €15? ❤️ every donation makes a difference, even if it’s less than that it matters

Donate here

tagging for reach

@tamamita @butchniqabi @finalgirlabigailhobbs @darthteeth @biconicfinn @dirhwangdaseul @serial-unaliver @socalgal @autisticmudkip @neechees @pikslasrce @dlxxv-vetted-donations @2spirit-0spoons @femmefitz @feluka @anneemay @loumandivorce @cuntylouis @vampiricvenus @heritageposts

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Congrats on 46k! You deserve it, you are such a wonderful writer!!!

I'd like to request eddie and roan at the county fair, for the first time with reader. roan is probably scared of the ferris wheel at first and eddie probably spends way too much trying to win both his girls stuffed animals

Eddie and Roan —Eddie tries to win a stuffed animal for Roan, and an argument ends in hot dogs. (step) mom!reader, 1k

When you met Eddie he was really skinny for his height and occupation. Weight is different for everybody. You didn’t notice he was slight until he was taking his shirt off for the first time, and you realised you could see the lines of his ribs. 

He was beautiful, of course, and you wouldn’t change anything about him then or now, but you have to confess that the happy weight looks good on him. It’s only a couple of kilos in the two years you’ve been together, but it’s enough to accentuate his arms when he swings Roan against his chest. 

“I’m not carrying you around all night,” he warns her. “Y/N told you those shoes would pinch your toes but you didn’t listen.” 

“I like them,” Roan defends. 

“They’re pretty, but they’re too small. We have to let things go, remember?” Eddie lets out a groan as she climbs his shoulders to hug the back of his neck, pulling his hair, and kneeing him in the neck. “Jesus, Ro.”

You grab her before she can do permanent damage. She is much more polite in your hold. 

Eddie gives you a grateful smile and puts his hand between your shoulders to keep everybody moving. The walkway between the porta-potties and the Balloon Pop is crowded with kids staring at the flashing toys, and it’s a task and a half to avoid mowing them down as you traverse the fair’s wet grass. 

“I’m surprised they still opened,” you say. 

“It’s a Roan miracle,” Eddie says. 

You can feel the girl in question staring at you. You look down at her and she beams. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Hi, mommy.” 

“Yeah, hi, baby, what are you staring at?” 

“You have the purple light on your face.” 

“You have pink and orange!” you say, poking her cheek gently. “Right here.” 

It will never stop feeling good to hear her call you mommy. 

You shrug her further into your arms, determined to carry her for the rest of the night lest she hurt her toes, Eddie steering you around the crowd to get a huge rainbow cotton candy, which Roan promptly gets lost in her hair. Eddie pulls off strips of green and blue to feed you while your arms are occupied, but then he pushes his fingertip against your tongue and you ban him from any further feeding. 

He’s still laughing when he notices something behind you. “Girls, look, there’s the Bean Bag Toss. Remember I said I was good at that one?” 

“Wow,” Roan says, and you can’t help thinking she’s talking just to you, proved when she adds, “mommy, look, they have puppies in coats.” 

The wall of the Bean Bag Toss attraction is covered in all kinds of teddies and stuffies, the most alluring being a row of adorable puppies in coats that make them look like ladybugs, sharks, and frogs. “They do have coats, that’s so cute. Should dad try his luck?” 

“I’m gonna win,” Eddie promises. “Pick which one you want, babe, I’m a winner.” 

You don’t bother sighing. Eddie’s promised her now, and if he doesn’t win, it’s gonna cost him something stupid to buy one under the table. “Ladybug?” Roan whispers. 

“Which one do you like most?” you ask knowingly. “If it’s the ladybug, choose the ladybug.” 

“I like her spots.” 

“I like her spots, too.” 

You and Roan step back as Eddie pays for three goes. Then another three. Then six. He’s not bad, per se, but he’s not winning, either. You and Roan don’t give up faith in him. 

“Come on, handsome, you can do it!” you cheer. 

“You can do it,” Roan echoes. “Go, daddy!” 

Eddie glances back at you both without shame. He grins, and he turns back to the game, and he throws the beanbag. It lands. He throws the next. Before you know it, the sixth one whacks hard into the back of the last pot, a clean win for the low low price of twenty five dollars. 

“Which one do you want?” the carnie asks. 

“Which one, bubby?” Eddie asks. 

Roan is shy but polite as she hugs your neck. “Can I have the puppy with the ladybug coat, please? The red coat?” 

The carnie passes it to Eddie, who quickly says thanks and passes it to Roan. She goes a little white in the face, a split second for you to worry, but she beams and buries her face in the puppy’s neck. “Thanks, daddy,” she says. 

Eddie grins. He puts his hand on her back, his rings catching the light as he scrubs her shoulder. “You’re welcome.” 

You catch his eye. 

“Want me to do it again?” he asks. 

“Nuh-uh, Munson, we have a ferris wheel to ride.” 

“Gotcha. Ro, why don’t we give Y/N a break, huh? Let’s walk on our own feet.” 

Ro refuses on the grounds that you are So warm. She’s not that heavy, you let her stay. Eddie wrestles her back into his arms by the hot dog cart, stating many reasons: he’s strong, you’re too beautiful for carrying, he wants to see the puppy up close, and he wants to show off his muscles. 

He says that last part slowly. You’ve been caught. 

“Well, you’re my boyfriend,” you argue. 

Eddie takes your hand. You’re happy, but you realise quickly that he’s trying to take your ring. “Wait, fiancé!” you correct yourself, dragging your hand back despite his pulling. 

“No, that’s okay, if you don’t want it–”

“Sorry, sorry! Ro, tell dad we have to get married.” 

“Ro, tell mom she has to stop calling me the wrong thing.” 

“Um, no fighting,” Ro says, “can we get hotdogs now?” 

“I’ll buy you two if you tell dad to stop taking my ring.” 

Roan puts a hand on Eddie’s cheek. “Dad, can you stop?” Eddie stares at her in silence for a moment, then nods with an eye roll. “Tada. I want ketchup and pickles and cheese, please. And curly fries?” 

[maxlarens]

1 + logan

1) touching foreheads

You probably shouldn’t be doing this.

Logan is your coworker— your boss in some sense. If someone else got wind of this you’d be in deep shit, you’d probably lose your job, or at least get a formal warning. But you’re not sure what the fuck else you’re supposed to do. How are you supposed to ignore him?

He’s not even in his driver’s room, he’s squatting around the back of Williams hospitality by the fucking trash bins. His head in his hands like something terrible has just happened to him—

and it has. It has.

Williams performance as a whole would be demoralising if you cared. If you were paid an adequate amount for the experience that you bring to the role. Alex routinely can’t get higher than a P15, James is constantly going on live television to tell people that the car is fourteen kilos overweight and Logan hasn’t got through a race without a DNF for months. You’d be depressed if you hadn’t decided that you didn’t care anymore.

You have to decide you don’t care anymore. To preserve your sanity, so you can job hunt and try to get hired by another team in time for next year’s season. Logan doesn’t get that privilege.

Logan is sitting next to a bin with his head in his hands because he cares. Because he can’t stop caring. Because he has to finish this season even if it means DNF after DNF after DNF, even if it means he’s not getting a seat next year. He’s not. You’ve heard James talking, you’ve delivered drafted versions of contracts to other drivers. You’ve heard comments in the hallways, “if he’s not performing, he’s not performing. He’s not cut out for Formula One”. Sometimes, it makes you want to scream— but you remind yourself that you don’t care.

You have no control over it. So what if you like Logan, so what if you believe he could be good if people just gave him a chance? These geriatric old men don’t give a shit what you have to say. They don’t give a shit about Logan either, not anymore.

He’s not crying when you find him hiding behind the motorhome. You think he should be… you certainly would be. After what happened on the track.

“Logan,” you say, gently, softly, like you’re approaching a skittish animal on a highway, “It’s me.”

A beat. Then he lifts his head to look up at you, eyes red-rimmed but not wet, his hair tousled like he’d run his hand through it a hundred times. Sweaty from the balaclava. He’s still in his fireproofs, and his racing suit hanging around his waist, dragging on the floor.

“Oh,” he says, “What’s up? Does someone need me?”

You shake your head, feeling like your heart is going to fall right out of your ass, “No,” you sigh, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he’s saying before the word ‘sorry’ even leaves your mouth, “I was just asking. Saves you the trouble.”

He’s looking at you like he’s the concerned one. Mouth parted, eyebrows knotted together. But you think you might cry. There are tears, wet and hot sitting in your tear ducts and you’re trying so desperately to blink them away. He doesn’t need this, he doesn’t need the pity.

You fucking hate this sport.

Okay, you don’t. You love it. You love the noise of the cars as they pass you on track, you love the politics of it, you love travelling around the world every week, doing your job flawlessly in a new place on two hours of sleep. Sometimes you even love Williams. The desperation of it; driving parts from the airport to the track yourself because it’s cheaper than hiring a courier, fighting tooth and nail just for something as abysmal P18.

You do love it.

You just hate what it’s done to Logan Sargeant.

Swallowed him whole, chewed him up and spit him out onto the pavement.

You abandon your clipboard of tasks. Williams might fall apart without you, but you find that you don’t care. You take half a step and squat next to him, ignoring the way that your heels dig into the skin at your ankles.

“Are you okay?”, you ask, putting a hand hesitantly on his bicep, not sure if it’s okay, not sure if you’ve ever touched him before.

He’s nodding, jaw set into a line, eyes unfocused, “I’m fine. Just need to try harder.”

Your heart goes splat on the ground below you.

He’s leaning into you, pressing into your hand, his body tilted toward you even though he can’t look you in the eyes. You don’t think he notices. He doesn’t say anything but you think it’s fine when you move closer, tiptoeing next to him. Shoulder pressed against his. Your head is almost in the brick wall, but you swivel to face him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you breathe into his ear as you press your forehead into his temple, your hand wraps around his shoulders in a haphazard hug.

He shakes his head, practically melting into you. Shifting some of his weight to balance against yours. So you’re holding each other up.

“It’s okay,” he says, “It’s good.”

“You don’t need to try harder,” you say, apropos of nothing, “You’re doing enough, Logan. It’s them. It’s them.”

He’s shaking his head before you can finish your sentence, but he’s got his eyes clenched shut like he’s in pain and he’s leaning, practically falling into you. You’re holding him up— and you’re pressing a chaste kiss to his cheekbone and then you’re pretending that you haven’t because you shouldn’t, because he’s your coworker.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” you say, but you know that he’s not really hearing you and you know a little more of your love for Formula One is being hacked away at, falling into a churning ocean that is liable to swallow it whole.

[nrdmssgs]

Masterlist

She never thought it would come to her in this form.

“Sorry, Nikto, please. Don’t waste your time.” Her door hits closed with a deafening bang.

She wanted to do this with some dignity. But as she saw him that evening on her threshold - her heart shuddered. Not a wolf at her door. A stray. Grown used to be unwanted. Unloved.

Maybe it was her fifth night without a proper sleep. But she felt a scream burning her throat and had to close the door on him.

A stray. With all the hope of this world in his eyes. She could command him to dance and he would. Happily so. On the edge of a cliff.

Collar him, bring him home, scratch his ear, feed him. She knows a taste of a broken heart. A shitty meal. If he’s to try it - she’d at least make sure, she’s not the one serving him his own guts.

He’s strong. Around hundred kilos of a stubborn will to fight, to live on. He will move forward eventually. Run away. Never deal with her demons.

She screams into her own palms. Nobody warned, this would come to her in his eyes. When she has no strength for anything, but work. When her body fails her.

A knock on the door. Must be the neighbours.

“You screamed.”

“You… didn’t go?”

“You screamed. Where does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt. Just tired. So damn tired. Can’t sleep, can’t do anything. Hate it here.”

“I’ll get you the meds.”

“Wait, I don’t-“

“I’m getting you the meds!”

“Just… take my keys.”

Around hundred kilos of scars, broken bones, burn marks, pain. But the heaviest part for her is his heart.

He’s a stray, isn’t he? She’s supposed to take care of him, help him heal…

So why does he feed her meds, bring her more water, tuck her in bed, lull her to sleep?

[bubbless-s]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ A brushstroke of love ᝰ.ᐟ

Request: “I don’t know if you still take Harry Potter requests but can you do slytherin boys (and pansy) walking on you doing your pre shower makeup?”

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluffly, light entertainment

- ʚɞ warnings: none

Tom Riddle

✧ Gets annoyed.

✧ “Why are you wasting your make up?”

✧ Still doesn’t get why you waste time and energy doing this.

✧ You jumpscared him once because you had done a minion full face make up.

✧ it just happened that you were walking after him and he suddenly turned.

✧ Starts hating the pre shower makeup even more.

✧ Would rather die then tell anyone that he got jumpscared by your face in yellow.

Mattheo Riddle

✧ “Love what the fuck.”

✧ Will NEVER let you do it on him.

✧ You will give him kisses? No—wait kisses?

✧ Well since you will give him compensation he will sit trough it.

✧ “I look like what you would get when you search ghetto make up on google.”

✧ Likes it more if you put lipstick on and kiss his whole face.

✧ He is like a energetic 9yo who ate tons of chocolate. So in conclusion he can’t stay still for too long.

Theodore Nott

✧ Thinks its funny since he has done it too.

✧ Buys you those shitty kid make up products so you don’t waste your expensive makeup.

✧ Secretly takes pictures of you and threatens to post it.

✧ But he never will.

✧ Let’s you do his brows because he finds it hilarious how he looks with big brows drawn with a eyeliner from a kid makeup set.

✧ Takes 0,5 pictures of you and himself after the masterpiece makeup is done.

✧ Laughs everytime the dollar store lipstick snaps in half from bad quality and his pressure from applying it.

Draco Malfoy

✧ “Is this what birthday makeup is or..?”

✧ Straight up holding back tears when you force him to try it.

✧ “This is muggle activity I—“ “So is bleaching your hair Malfoy.”

✧ You made his skin match his hair. ‘Accidentally’ with water proof 24h lasting brush.

✧ He almost cried.

✧ Didn’t go to classes that day and didn’t step out of his room.

✧ Also he ‘accidentally’ smudged the makeup in your shirt. Accident happen!

Enzo Berkshire

✧ Traumatised.

✧ “Why do you look like a smurf :(.”

✧ Doesn’t want to do it. But he is supportive. Kinda.

✧ Will get you tons of micellar water so the cleaning process is easier.

✧ If you mess up your mascara and get it all over the tube he won’t also mind cleaning it.

✧ What he will mind is if you try to do it on him.

✧ “My skincare is expensive girl..💅”

Blaise Zabini

✧ Stands in the doorway with a ‘:|’ face.

✧ “Um what are you doing this late at night cupcake?”

✧ Another type to take pictures of you.

✧ Agrees when you offer to do his next.

✧ Suddenly became a professional makeup artist??

✧ And comments and how you blend things and stuff😭

✧ “Im rocking this.”

Pansy Parkinson

✧ “I thought we were doing this together?”

✧ Immediately sits next to you and DEMANDS that you do her makeup too.

✧ In the end you both have matching makeup. You’re painted in pink she is in blue. (Stitch and his gf)

✧ “I look so cute. But you’re the cutest.”

✧ Kisses your face anyway. Who cares if you have kilos of make up on your faces?

✧ “Babe do I have makeup smudges on my arse?” “Don’t worry the only thing I see is fifty pounds of ass😋”

✧ The removing process is another type of pain.

[cosmicalily]

'come to me, slowly' a hyunjin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: short but very, very sweet. the whole ‘charm’ album is such a work of art in my eyes; it's so beautiful and reminds me of the dreamiest spring with my girls. i feel like hyunjin would really fw clairo so i decided to make a little something for him! i’m normally insanely protective over my precious wlw songs, but i think this song can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. can be read as a standalone fic, but works better as a sequel to 'episodic memory', which is part of a mini series!

warnings: pregnancy

It had been six months since you’d first told him. Six chaotic months of taking care of a new house and yourself in your new fragile state, days spent painting your bedroom deep emerald green, of Hyunjin washing your hair for you when you bathed, even though you insisted you were capable of doing it yourself. 

In the end, despite your love for your studio, the two of you decided to move everything into the cosy sunroom at the back of the small house. So when your lease ended, the two of you spent the day unpacking and repacking tubes of paint, jars of ceramic glaze, kilos of clay and, with the assistance of your old roommates, Felix and his now fiance’s minivan, moving the kiln to your home. When the floors were clean and windows washed and everything was unorganised but exactly where you needed it to be, Hyunjin spent long minutes kissing you in your new makeshift studio. Hundreds of kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks and collarbone, and thousands on your lips, soft yet hard, slow yet feverish.

He still couldn’t believe you were having his baby.

Hyunjin didn’t think he could fall in love with you anymore, but seeing you in your home, the one you two had finally bought together, skin shiny in the summer humidity and dressed in only a pale yellow lace bralette and loose-fitting overalls, he found himself sinking even deeper. You fanned your face, mumbling something under your breath about the heat, and unclasped the two straps of your overalls, letting your belly show. Hyunjin walked over behind you, wrapping his arms around your lower waist, kissing your shoulder. “Get off, baby, it’s so hot,” you grumbled, but let yourself melt into his touch. “I can’t tell if it's the hot flushes or the summer weather. Why isn’t your face all red and sweaty?”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Your pink cheeks are cute. You’re cute. I don’t think I’ll ever get how adorable your belly looks; I’m so excited for her to arrive, but I also kind of want to soak up this feeling.”

“Mm,” you replied, turning to face him and resting your cheek against his chest. “Me too.”

“My angels,” Hyunjin pulled you in tighter, kissing you then leaning down to press a kiss to your tummy. “My girls.”

“And we’re the luckiest girls in all the world,” you smiled, eyes glossy. “I love you so much, baby.”

His thumb moved to wipe your tears and kiss your cheeks. “I love you even more, pretty girl.”

Summer had long gone, and now Winter was rapidly approaching, orange leaves disappearing from the trees as the weather gradually cooled. You pulled a butter yellow mohair sweater over your shoulders and buttoned your jeans, walking out of your bedroom with a yawn.

Hyunjin had never been an early bird, but ever since Juna had been born, he’d grown to adore it. Regardless of whether it was four or five in the morning, he would be out of bed and with his baby, comforting her until she fell asleep again or, if she didn’t, strapping her in a baby wrap and taking her on a walk, the breeze cool on his face and the sun rising as he strolled. His heart would feel full to bursting with love for the being you had somehow created together, the baby you’d carried with such strength for nine long months. 

“Good morning, my darlings,” your eyes sparkled with joy when Hyunjin walked through the front door, a wide awake and giggly Juna cosied up against his chest. 

“Hi, pretty girl,” Hyunjin smiled, unwrapping Juna and passing her to you for a cuddle. He left the wrap on the kitchen bench and kissed you softly. His body and soul belonged to you. For you and Juna, he would tear down every star from the sky, rehang the moon if it fell in the night, chase away the clouds until the sky was clear again.

You were his world.

As he looked at the hundreds of paintings and photographs that lined the walls of your home, his entire body warmed, and he held the two of you closer.

“We’re yours, Hyun.” you whispered, and his heart erupted like a supernova, his eyes blinded with colour.

[leonw4nter]

i was replaying tlou and i was wondering if you could do a drabble with tlou! au with re2r leon and fem reader where they live in jackson together and just all domestic n sweet?

I Only Have Eyes For You

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader TLOU AU

He gives the weighty Discman strapped on his hip a pat or two, the wooden ladle softly clacking against the pot’s sides as he sets it down for a moment to check on the cumbersome music player.

With these hung– eyes–

– and I can’t disguise–

I’ve– hungry eyes– I feel–

“I got you six months ago,” he softly grumbles as he removes the plug before returning it back to the port. “You can’t be that bad for second-hand, bud.”

After a few more pats and readjustments, he’s finally content with how the song sounds and turns his full attention back to the meal cooking on the stove. He hums along to Eric Carmen’s Hungry Eyes instead of his usual rock songs, sandy-hued strands of his bang swaying on his forehead as he bobbed his head. He felt a tiny yet dense mass rub against his leg, a white and orange chunk of fuzz meowing at him for more food, though the tiny beast had already been fed his dinner moments ago and seemed to be on a pursuit to gain more kilos.

“Snugglepuss, I just fed you baby,” he says in a slightly higher pitched tone as he quickly glanced down at his son, inquisitive yellow eyes staring at him as if to say ‘hey dad, I don’t think the food you put in my bowl is enough’. “Mom’s going to kick us out in the cold if we don’t follow the diet plan that the vet gave you.” 

With a pleading meow, the fatty rubs his cheek against Leon’s ankle and flops down, laying on his back and exposes his tummy for a rub but his dad promises him a cuddle later, preoccupied with finishing up dinner. Accepting defeat temporarily, Snugglepuss gets his heavy ass up and walks over to the living room to nap on the ottoman to let Leon finally cook up dinner in peace. He is just about to turn the stove off and plate the food when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his torso and a comforting weight press against his back, relaxing when he realizes that you’ve arrived home and he simply didn’t notice because of the music playing in his ears.

“Didn’t notice you coming in,” he says with a grin as he pulls away from a kiss to get back to switching the stove off.

“You were listening to music at full blast,” you respond as you pause the music player and lift the headphone from his ears, letting it hang around his neck before giving him another kiss on his puffy cheek.

“It wasn’t full blast, more like medium volume.”

“Yeah, right.”

Rolling those pretty boy blue eyes, he gets back to plating the dinner he’s been cooking. You stand behind him, peeking from his tall shoulder. “Dinner looks amazing, good job sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.”

He glows at your words, fumbling with the spatula as he awkwardly brushes off the praise. “N-No biggie.”

You chuckle at how his sass melted away to reveal his easily flustered side, flushing pink at any compliment or praise coming from you. He can be doing something incredibly mundane like sweeping the floor and you’d comment on his dutifulness regarding chores around the house and his a rosy flush would climb from his neck and make its way to the tips of his ears, giving away his excitement for receiving a compliment from his dear girlfriend. Helping him along, you take some placements and place them on the table, along with plates and utensils. It’s as if Leon sensed that you were about to ask him if Snugglepuss had eaten already and he said he already fed him the amount he’s required to have. Leon walks over to the dining table, a steaming plate of food in his hands. He walks back to the kitchen, undoing his apron and hanging it on the apron rack before he joins you in the dining table to share a meal together.

“How was work, honey? Super tired?” Leon asks before he takes a forkful of his dinner, humming in satisfaction when he tastes the satisfying blend of flavors in his mouth.

“Business as usual– controlling the flow of water, making sure nothing freezes and damages the turbines, having to do twice the amount of hardwork the dudes at work do just to prove that I’m just as good and maybe even better than them,” you respond. “But it’s fun, especially seeing the men lose their shit when I come up with something they wish they thought of first. You should see the anger on their faces, steam is pouring out their ears.”

Conversation flowed smoothly during the rest of dinner time, Leon chipping in with what he busied himself with while you were gone. He also told you about Snugglepuss asking for more food and his new meal plan’s progress, much to your delight. As much as Leon adored his son eating a little too well, he knew that it would get to a point where it would do more harm than good so he actively does his part in making sure the fatty slowly loses his weight. You also spoke up about some workplace gossip, lowering your voice and leaning a little closer to him while he actively listened and reacted, giving his own thoughts on the information provided to him.

Life before having to move to Jackson was a lot like this– Leon in the police force, you working for an engineering firm, and you two coming home to one of you cooking up a warm, home cooked meal, and sitting down at the dinner table to share what went on with the other’s day. After the outbreak of the Cordyceps and the town you two once lived in deemed no longer safe, you two had no choice but to wander around for a little bit before coming across some groups of people heading towards this place called Jackson. The place was perfect for you two– a small quaint community with everything important inside, cold weather year-round which meant that you wouldn’t have to sit in front of the fan during summer months, walls that kept the inhabitants inside safe from the hordes of the infected, and job opportunities that suited to both your careers. It took Leon a lot of convincing to lay low and take a moment to focus on himself, staying away from doing something that needed extra physical effort; he had been the one doing most of the work– collecting dry leaves and sticks to start a fire, catching fish in streams (if there were some), and fended off some of the infected successfully due to his police training back at the academy. While out in the wilderness and you two probably looked and smelt like death, not a single thought about leaving you behind passed his mind, even if you weren’t exactly the best at shooting guns. Instead, he taught you how to handle one and reload a gun, as well as cleaning it and trying to remedy a jammed bullet. He rarely used guns, however, and opted to teach you and himself how to use spears and bows and arrows since these weapons made significantly little to no noise, unlike a gun. Upon arriving at Jackson and finding out that the community is powered by a dam, you immediately asked if there were still slots for another engineer to be added to the team and fortunately for you and Leon, there was so now that engineering job pays the fatty’s vet bills, electric and water bills, as well as day-to-day expenses. Leon’s been loving the stay-at-home boyfriend arrangement, taking pleasure in cleaning up around the house and being in charge of keeping the house warm to welcome you in after a long workday.

Soon, the plates were empty and both of you ate to your heart’s content. You offered to do the dishes while Leon wiped the tables and wiped the plates and utensils dry, content to be spending some time with you. Brows furrowed in concentration as you scrubbed the pan, you didn’t notice Leon giving you a soft look reminiscent of a puppy, blue eyes attentively observing the way your fingers held the sponge as you tried to wash away a stubborn stain. You only pop back into Earth when you hear a faint snort coming from your right, a breathy noise coming from your boyfriend. You raise an eyebrow at him but he mutters “nothin’” and gets back to wiping at a faster pace than he was, occasionally stealing glances before calling your shared fatty cat.

“Snugglepuss! C’mere boy, pspsps!” Leon says in a baby voice, walking to the other side of the kitchen island to be closer to the living room. “C’mere, my cutie patootie!”

A few moments of silence passes before a tiny and short meow can be heard from the living room, causing Leon to audibly coo and walk over to carry the fat little thing. “Aw, my son. You’re looking extra cute today, aren’t you a little cutie pie?” You laugh, finishing up the last of the dishes. Leon’s just about to bend down and put his son down to help you with wiping but you refuse, finishing up the drying so you can give Leon and that near-obese domesticated feline beast time to bond and snuggle. “Sorry that I can’t cuddle you yet hon, I promised this little cutie baby first.” He heads to your shared room, showering the ‘toddler’ in his arms with endless compliments about how fluffy, cute, and adorable he is.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After everyone’s done cleaning up and showering for the night, you and Leon sit in a comfortable silence in your bed– you, eyes focused on the box TV playing Forrest Gump while Leon’s attention darts from the crossword puzzle in his hands and the film you’re watching. You’re brushing your wet hair, trying to get it to dry faster so you can finally lay down and be able to lean your head against Leon’s shoulder. The film reached the scene where Bubba talked about how shrimp is like the fruit of the sea and listed all the possible ways shrimp can be cooked and Leon followed him along, word by word.

“There's shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried.” He said in his attempt at a Southern accent.

“There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That, that's about it.” You finish, also trying to imitate a Southern accent. You look to your side, Leon grinning as he places his puzzle down, the book resting against the sleeping fatty’s side.

“You sound stupid,” he jokes.

“I sound what?” you retort in an eerily sweet voice, shooting a wide smile at him.

“I said you sound amazing, honey. A natural at the accent,” he corrects himself.

“That’s what I thought,” you beam in a confident tone. “It would be a shame to sleep in the snow without any blanket when the house is so warm and toasty inside.”

“Yeah,” he sheepishly agrees. “Would be a real shame to be alone outside when I could be with my loving and totally not scary girlfriend.” He affirms as he scoots closer towards you whilst trying not to wake Snugglepuss.

“Don’t push it, Scotty Boy.”

Leon pulls away suddenly, an exaggerated look of unadulterated shock on his soft and rosy features. “What did you just call me?! Repeat it please?!”

You giggle deviously, inching closer towards him. “Scotty Boy,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. He yelps, leaping out of bed and making a cross with his index fingers as he tries to inch away from you. “You animal!” He exclaims, his tone indicating that he means this in a hyperbolic manner.

“That’s why you love me,” you sweetly counter as you bat your lashes at him and try to come closer to him.

“I’m calling animal control on you,” he jokes as he begins to move away from you at a faster rate but you follow suit, leaping out to chase him as he squeals like a girl. The lazy, fatass cat on your bed is roused from his nap, looking at you two with a twinge of annoyance. After chasing him, he slows down and lets you cling on to him as you pepper his face with moist and warm kisses, smooth lips leaving a tingle of electricity in his face as the rosiness made its way to his ears like it always did when he got flustered.

“Gotcha,” you quietly mumble as you try to catch your breath though Leon doesn’t seem to have broken a sweat. He stops wriggling and trying to break free, freeing his arms from your grip to give you a hug and quickly lift you up before setting you down. He takes the moment to give you a tight yet still snug hug, swaying you around as if he was starting a waltz. A waltz. An idea pops in your head and you leave his arms, diving to his side of the bed and finding the box of CDs underneath the bed. Leon follows you, trying to watch your movements. “Looking for something?”

“Do you still have the CD from The Flamingos?” you ask as you continue to look around.

“Uh… I’m not sure? I’ll help you.”

He bends down with you, rummaging through the boxes underneath the bed. For only a few dollars and 2 boxes full of classic oldies music in intact CDs sold right outside the old library, Leon decided to take the too-good-to-be-true deal and come home with boxes full of amazing music about a year ago. He hasn’t gotten to playing all the CDs but has listened to some of them, some with you while some he listened to on his own time. After a few minutes of rummaging and trying to remember the title, he finally got to the disc that you wanted. You take the CD from his hand and grab the cumbersome music player, slipping the disc in and waiting for the song to play. “I Only Have Eyes For You”, the disc case reads. The CD plays the song a little too early for your liking so you pause it and press the button to go a few seconds back before you skip to him. Placing one of his large hands on your waist and the other holding your other hand, you ask Leon to a dance.

“May I have this dance?” you softly ask with a glimmer in your eyes. He glows on the proposition of having a romantic slow dancing moment with you, nodding. “Sure.”

You walk over to the player and press the play button and soon, the short instrumental at the beginning begins to play. You quickly walk over to Leon, swaying and dancing with him quietly. In the soft glow of a single bedside lamp, the room was a comforting mix of shadows and dim glow lighting; the wooden floorboards quietly croaked with each step, adding to the faint mixtures of various sounds that otherwise filled the room along with the song.

The moon may be high,

But I can’t see a thing in the sky.

I only have eyes for you…

You and Leon move slowly along to the rhythm of the music, fingers lightly grazing the hem of your (his) thin sleep shirt. His other hand holds yours, warm fingers intertwined in a tender embrace. Your free hand perches on his shoulder, feeling the comforting and familiar heat seep out from his gray shirt. Your bodies move unhurriedly, as if time paused to honor this moment. The dim glow appeared to unveil more stars in Leon’s cerulean irises; they looked dazzling on him and dazzled you were.

I don’t know if we’re in a garden

Or on a crowded avenue.

You are here

And so am I.

He leaned in, warm breath fanning against your forehead before his lips came into contact with your skin. The simple gesture sent fizzles of electricity down your body, gooseflesh flaring up on your arms as a soft smile spread on your lips. He pulls back, admiring the beautiful collection of all the universe’s majesties compacted into the perfect girl he can hold and keep safe in his arms as the song goes on, serenading the both of you. His gaze drifts everywhere before finally landing on your lips, the urge to kiss you growing stronger with each passing moment. Finally, he leans and closes the remaining distance as your lips and his meet in a tender and careful embrace; the kind of kiss that spoke volumes of love and resilience, a dance of rosy flesh as gentle as the song you two are waltzing to. The kiss lingered on for a little longer, heads tilted in eagerness and brows furrowed in increased want, sealing the moment with a promise to many more waltzes along the years to weather together. His hands detangle from yours to rest on the small of your back while the other would cup around the base of your head to pull you closer but he lets out a muffled yelp, pulling back and eyes shooting wide open in alarm. You pull back, surprised at him too.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly says as he tries to restore the disrupted moment of vulnerability and peace by bringing you back in his arms, pressing an apologetic peck to the tip of your nose. “The cat bit me in the leg.”

You try to hold back a sudden fit of laughter, ducking your face away from him but a snort makes its way out and you lose it, hysterically laughing. You feel Leon’s chest start to jerk too, joining in to laugh with you. “Seems like he wanted to be in on the moment with us, drama queen.”

“Just like his mama,” he says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re more dramatic than I am!”

“I’m nonchalant, you’re chatty and dramatic 24/7.”

“‘Nonchalant’, my ass.”

His chest rumbles with more laughter, his head slightly thrown back before he faces you again. “Snugglepuss, look away since you don’t like seeing us kiss.”

Eager to resume and set the romantic mood again, he tilts your chin upwards with his thumb and index to reconnect his lips with yours. Just like earlier, the kiss was soft and careful, a physical manifestation of devotion that words could not fully encapsulate. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, right underneath where your hair would be while you responded by pressing your body closer to him, feeling his thundering heart against your chest. You two kissed with the intention to not let go, despite the need for air but your need for each other is stronger so you didn’t part, the world pausing because all that mattered is the comforting feeling of your lips perfectly molded against each other.

Maybe millions of people go by,

But they all disappear from view.

I only have eyes for you…

NOTE - ITS SO HUMID WHERE I LIVE BRO SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE 😭🙏 Not only do I feel crusty bc of the heat, I also feel STICKY bc of the humidity in here- even if its's raining, it's still so damn hot like bro is this a free trial to hell temperatures??? Before I continue yapping, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I don't rlly play and know much about TLOU so I had to do some research before and during my writing so I can get it pretty accurate so if I'm rlly inaccurate here um I'm sorry and I rlly tried my best 😭😭 Also, I started driving like a day or two ago and I do know the basics already (minus parking- i HATE parking with all my heart and soul... i know how to park but i have to reverse like... 6 more times before i can park properly) but I'm still very nervous- coz I've been driving in an empty course for practice and the thought of driving on the open road with other people makes me want to kms 💔 Ovulation go crazy coz the first thing I think of when I wake up is Leon doing bench presses while wearing sweatpants and he's grunting and groaning n shitt like bend over babyboy twinkle twinkle little star and get to oiling up I need to get you pregnant with twins. Anyways, thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[cx-boxbox]

Might not finish this, so have a quick ~800 word landussy drabble:

Lando grimaces, shoving a hand down his race suit to pluck at his fireproof bottoms while cursing his biology.

Being an omega can be fun sometimes, but it’s so extremely inconvenient when he’s in pre-heat and meant to get in the car in less than ten minutes. His fireproofs are fucking glued to his pussy lips with slick.

Of course, Oscar notices.

“Don’t,” Lando grumbles, glaring at his mate as soon as he opens his mouth. “I can’t wait for this to be fucking over.”

When Oscar blessedly doesn’t say anything, only sending a comforting flare of pheromones his way, Lando wants nothing more than to cry. Damn these hormones. They’re fucking ruining everything.

The car is scorching hot, just two laps in, and it takes every bit of concentration and focus for Lando to drive it, all while his pre-heat brain is absolutely killing him. Not once has he ever taken a piss in the cockpit, but all the slick pooling between his legs is arguably worse.

If only he hadn’t forgotten to take his suppressants.

Social media is going to crucify him for finishing just shy of the podium when he started from third, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s almost glad he doesn’t have to bother with podium celebrations as soon as he puts his car in parc fermé and jumps out to get weighed.

He doesn’t have to worry about being underweight when there has to be a kilo’s worth of slick in his suit.

“Just this and then media duties,” Oscar murmurs, putting a comforting hand on the small of his back and rubbing it. “Hold on for me?”

Lando nods, resisting the temptation to bury his nose in the crook of his mate’s neck and inhale his sweaty, musky scent. Oscar’s looking a bit flushed with his hair sticking to his forehead, and Lando wants to devour him whole.

“Alpha,” he purrs. “Fuck, I’m aching for your knot.”

“Half an hour, Lando,” Oscar promises.

Lando doesn’t want to wait half an hour. He wants Oscar’s knot now. “Fuck. Fuck. You didn’t end on the podium either. Was it my fault?”

Oscar waits for him to finish weighing before shaking his head and replying, “Don’t worry about it. Bad strategy calls.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s a lot of fucks,” he jokes. “Save some for after.”

Lando laughs incredulously. He can always trust his mate to distract him from the growing pains in his abdomen.

-

Finally back in their hotel room, Lando all but throws himself at his mate, moaning into his mouth as soon as the door shuts with a click.

Oscar catches him because he’s such a good alpha, hoisting him up and carrying him to the bed. Lando gasps as the jeans he hastily pulled on are tugged down his legs and tossed carelessly aside.

“God,” Oscar groans, staring at the apex of Lando’s thighs. He can see the shape of Lando’s wet cunt through his knickers where the near-translucent fabric is practically molded to his slick folds.

Lando wants to tell him to stop staring and do something, but all coherent thought leaves his mind, and all he can do is squeal and clamp his thighs around Oscar’s head at the first touch of his lips to the center of his body.

The noise that leaves Oscar’s mouth, vibrating against Lando’s clothed pussy, is almost feral in nature, and Lando gasps, realizing that Oscar is much better at hiding the symptoms of his pre-rut. He was so preoccupied by the hot flashes of arousal making it impossible for him to even stand upright that he didn’t notice the thick, luscious scent wafting off of his mate.

Oh, but Oscar’s mouth…

“Alpha!” Lando cries, trying to shove Oscar’s face away from his soaked knickers in vain. “You can’t- we can’t-”

Oscar hums in acknowledgement but continues to suck a hickey into his thigh.

“Oscar, I forgot to take my suppressants- oh!”

The last thing Lando’s heat-ridden brain wants is for Oscar to stop, even if there’s a significant risk of pregnancy if he knots him in rut.

But would pregnancy be the worst thing to happen to him?

Giving in, Lando spreads his legs a little more, moaning as Oscar peels his underwear away. The damp cotton sticks to his folds, and he has to bite his own fingers to muffle his scream at the first lap of Oscar’s tongue against him.

Oscar didn’t even wait to get rid of the rest of Lando’s clothes, but it makes Lando feel so much more insane knowing his mate was so eager to taste him that he didn’t even bother with foreplay or anything else.

The thought alone is enough to make him come, and the continued tease of Oscar's tongue against his clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through his body, makes his back arch clear off the bed.

[valgodd]

You sit in the waiting room of the doctors office, nervously fidgeting your hands. It’s time for the annual health check up. You sure had a good year, the trousers digging into your belly are proof of that.

A nurse calls your name. Are you imagining things, or did she she do a double take when she saw you, her eyes lingering slightly over your pudgy mid section? She offers you a polite, professional smile though, and lead you into the office.

The doctor, a graying fit man man in his late fifties, sits behind his desk, endorsed in paper work.

”Welcome mr/ms Y/N” he murmurs. He glances at you over his spectacles, his eyes sweeping over your red, round cheeks, budding double chin and protrouding belly. ”Well you certainly look… healthy. Shall we get started?” He gestures towards an old fashioned manual steele scale. You step on it with a loud *clonk*. The doctor raises an eyebrow and adjusts the metal weight until the scale is in balance. He looks in his notes and scoffs, almost sounding amused.

”Well well… you were close to underweight last time we weighed you. Now however… you seem to have fattened up quite nicely.”

You swallow, feeling very self concious.

”H-how much have I gained?”

”It seems to be… almost sixteen kilos”

”Sixteen kilos?” That was more than you had expected. 

”Sixteen kilos” the doctor confirms ”Thats… quite much in just a years time.”

”Well there obviously must me something wrong with your scale” you say with an akward laugh. The doctor smirks. ”The scale is perfectly fine, I asssure you. Any… changes of habits recently?”

”Well…” you are tempted to lie, but the doctor looks at you sternly. 

”Well what?”

”Uhm I guess I… relaxed a bit recently” you admit ”I-I moved in with my partner… They’ve been cooking a lot for me… And I haven’t gone to the gym as… frequently as I used to” your voice trails off.

”Uhuh. That explains alot, doesnt it? Well, last time I saw you, you were a scrawny little thing and you sure needed to put on a few. Sixteen kilos though… That’s overdoing it. You need to get rid of that gut” the doctor pats your tummy condencendingly. 

”Yes doc” you say and and clench your jaws. How could you have let yourself go like this? Why didn’t anybody tell you you were getting so big?

”We should measure your body fat to, dear. Pull up your shirt for me, will you?”

You reluctantly pull up your shirt and reveal a pale, squishy midsection.  The doctor takes a metal clisp and take a firm grip on your belly roll between his thumb and indexfinger. You feel the cold metal against your skin, and winces as the clisp pinches you.

”Godness me…” he murmurs. You swallow. ”Well you certainly haven’t been starving” the doctor chuckles as he scribbles down some notes in his papers. ”So… tell your partner to cut down on the butter and cream in their cooking. It really isnt doing you any favours. Maybe go on some brisk walks together. By next year, I want to see you trimmed down. Okay?”

You nod and manage a polite smile.

After the meeting, your partner meets you up outside the doctors office. They give you brief kiss on the lips and squeeze your sides. 

”How was the doctors appointment love?”

”Well…”

”You look upset, is everything alright?”

You sigh.

”Well the doctor told me I had gained too much weight” you murmur.

”Oh love…”

”Yeah… god it was so humiliating” you press your palms against your eyes, feeling tears burn under your eyelids. Your partner pulls you into an embrace.

”My poor baby… Hey hey…. Shh… Its okay, its okay... We’ve had a good year, haven’t we? Its been so nice to see you eat whatever you want, to your hearts content. I would hate him to ruin that for you love”

You nod, sniveling. Your partner strokes your belly in calming circles.

”Screw him. Tell you what love” your partner lowers their voice to a whisper ”I just made your favourite eclairs. The ones with chocolate cream. Why dont we go home and have some?”  

You can’t help but light up.

”Oh yes those are my favourite” you murmur longingly with a moan, feeling your mouth water. 

”Hey I knew that would put a smile on your  face” you partner chuckles and pinches your chubby cheek lovingly ”Lets go home dear, let me take care of you”

[yanderenightmare]

katsuki and darling in cooking club together🥺

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: none

♡ fem reader

He knew there was something wrong with him when he started looking forward to Cooking Club even in the midst of hero-training classes.

Albeit a somewhat tedious task, he’d actually always liked getting his hands dirty with batter as opposed to smoke. But, to be spacing out when sparring? That’s unlike him to the point it’s worrying.

But, then again, he can’t really blame it on Cooking Club alone. As it wasn’t exactly cupcakes he was daydreaming about.

Or… 

It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to call you a cupcake.

You were late the first day and ended up partnering with the only person left without one. Which, unsurprisingly, was the angry ash-blonde hero-course student with the skull print on his black apron. 

He was intimidating to approach, but you hadn’t much choice as the angry chef you had for a teacher snapped his fingers at you and pointed over at the red-eyed muscle-bunt.

As though your entrance hadn’t given you away already, your complete lack of domestic skills was beyond evident once the assignment had been dealt, and you were left looking like a complete question mark once the tall muscled boy started barking out orders from the cookbook.

Not only couldn’t you coordinate for shit and hadn’t a single slightest idea what any of the cooking appliances’ names were, but you couldn’t take orders either, no matter the simplicity of them.

He’d tell you to stir gently, and you’d start whisking away. He’d tell you grams, and you’d measure kilos. Fuck, he’d tell you sugar, and you’d get salt.

You were hopeless.

Hopeless and cute.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 7

A Glen Powell RPF series

Can't believe how much this is growing. I'm so thankful for every like, reblog and comment. Sending all of my apologies for the delay, I've forgotten how hard smut is to write and I'm embarrassed to admit how many times I wrote and re-wrote this trying to make it perfect. Hope you enjoy! x

Thankyou to @zacksnydered for the gifs!

Warning - Smut heavy in this chapter.

Billie

“105! Dani, you did it girl!” Billie beams, grinning from ear to ear as she helps her patient re-rack the loaded barbell on the squat rack.

Dani’s grin matches Billie’s when she turns around and jumps into Billie to hug her, the two having a celebratory embrace at the new squat personal best. Dani was a sophomore who had torn a major ligament in her knee playing high-level basketball, and after close to six months of rehabilitation, she was back to squatting even more than she was pre-injury.

“I told you you could do it, I’m so proud of you!” Billie announces as they part, holding Dani’s shoulders and grinning back at her teenage patient.

Dani’s smile takes up her whole face. “Thank you so much Billie, honestly I couldn’t have done it without you”

Billie scoffs, “Don’t be silly. This was all you!”

“What’s 105 in pounds?” Dani asks, picking up her water bottle and looking back at Billie, “Also, when are you ever going to stop using kilograms?”

“About 240 pounds” Billie replies with a laugh, “And never. I can’t help it that my brain thinks in kilos. That’s what I learnt in school way back when, and that’s what I’m sticking with”.

Dani laughs, sitting down on the floor and stretching out her legs, Billie perching on a nearby plyometric box and looking down at Dani.

“So, same time next week?” Billie asks, pulling out her iPad and checking her patient diary for next week, “Two-thirty?”

Dani nods and Billie inputs the appointment, running through the plan for their next session before saying goodbye.

“Well done again Dani” Billie says, squeezing her shoulder as they walk out of the gym area, “We’re going to have you back on the court in no time at this rate”.

Dani grins and Billie nods, waving goodbye as Dani goes to get her things and Billie retreats into her office.

Almost immediately she picks up her phone, her stomach flip-flopping when she sees a text message notification from Glen. They’d transitioned to text messaging, having exchanged phone numbers on Sunday night, and despite it being two whole days, Billie wasn’t sure she would ever get used to seeing Glen Powell’s name pop up on her phone.

There’d been no shortage of interaction between the two of them, Glen and Billie texting back and forth - talking, flirting and sharing pictures of their day. Of Brisket and Nugget, of Billie out on a run, of Glen at the gym, a playful selfie here and there. Their texts had become increasingly flirtatious, and Billie was seriously struggling to keep her thoughts in check. 

She was trying to focus on work - on Chelsea's niggling shoulder, on Derek’s hip that was catching every time he reached top speed on his sprint, on the brace that she had to order for Jimmy’s knee, but thoughts of Glen somehow kept inching their way in.

Billie felt like she was back in high school and with a teenage crush. Except this time, she was a grown up, and her teenage crush was a Hollywood celebrity.

She swipes across the screen to open his text message, nearly audibly groaning at what appears on her screen next. Glen was at a photo shoot today, and he’d sent her a little sneak preview. 

How was it physically possible for anyone to be that good looking? 

Honestly. 

The man was literally sex on fucking legs.

The photo shows Glen dressed in a light blue shirt and jacket leaning against a door frame, his shirt unbuttoned and leaving very little of his chest to the imagination. Billie isn’t sure where to look first, torn between the delicious planes of his chest covered in a dark mess of hair, or his intense, intimate expression that makes Billie need to catch her breath. His jaw is covered in more stubble than when she’d seen him last, and suddenly she can’t help but wonder how it would feel when she kissed him.

Her fingers hover over the screen, her brain at a momentary loss of what to say.

How am I supposed to focus on the rest of work when you're looking like that 😍

Typing bubbles appear almost instantly, and Billie realises she’s smiling.

You’re not the only one having trouble focusing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about seeing you tonight

Billie’s smile grows then, her whole body instantly flushing with warmth. She types back, knowing her thoughts have undoubtedly been very similar to his.

Surely that ‘lost in thought’ look is what works for photo shoots though?

She can almost hear Glen chuckling as he reads her words.

Except that they kept asking me why I seemed so distracted all through the shoot

Billie feels herself grin stupidly.

And what did you tell them?

I said that I had something I was looking forward to doing tonight 

Billie nearly drops her phone at that, her breathing instantly ragged. Fuck.

And what might that be?

Seeing you, of course

Billie lets out a laugh then, loving their flirty back and forth. 

She's already decided she’s going to sleep with Glen tonight. Not only because she was dying to, but because she knew there was no way she was going to be able to stop herself. How she'd done so on Sunday at his house she had no idea - she could still feel his lips on hers if she thought about it, tender and heated as he held her on the kitchen bench.

Billie grins and bites her bottom lip, fingers tapping on the screen.

See you at 8 darlin x

You’re trouble mister 🙈 I'm looking forward to you seeing you too.

“Am I allowed to know about whatever it is that's making you look at your phone like that?” 

Billie's head snaps up when she hears her colleague Lisa's voice, seeing her standing in her office doorway with a curious look on her face.

“Nope” Billie says, sending a kiss face emoji back to Glen before locking her phone and quickly shoving it back into her pocket.

“Cmon B, we've worked together long enough for me to know that that” she says pointing at Billie's pocket, “Is absolutely something to do with a guy. So come on, spill”.

Billie grins, picking her water bottle up from her desk and bending to check her computer screen to see who her next client is. 

“Need to know basis at this point, Lisa”

“Oh yeah? I don't even get a little hint?”

Billie laughs at her friend's insistence.

“Alright, here's one. He's fucking gorgeous”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “That's hardly a hint Bil”.

Billie shrugs, smiling sweetly and walking over to the doorway beside Lisa.

“That's all you need to know for now”.

“Need to know, or get to know?”

“Both”

“Did you meet him at Rufus on Friday?”

Billie shrugs again innocently. “Maybe”.

Lisa raises one eyebrow, running her fingers through her platinum blonde, spikey pixie cut. 

“You know I'm going to keep asking you, yeah?”

Billie laughs, the two walking down the hallway and stopping at Lisa's office.

“And you know I’m going to keep deflecting your questions yeah?”.

Lisa punches her arm playfully and Billie grins, nodding at her friend before walking off to the waiting room.

“Billie!”

Billie stops short as she passes Ross’ office, her boss sitting at his desk and waving to her. 

“Hey bossman”

“Just checking you’re still okay for the Monterey trip in August?”

Billie nods. “Sure am”.

Due to the clinic’s work with high school and college athletes, they often got asked to accompany teams to tournaments and competitions around the country. Billie had been on a few trips in her years at Evolution Sports Rehab, using them as a convenient excuse to see more of the US. So far she’d been to Florida, Atlanta and Boston, and several places in the greater California area.

A few weeks ago Ross had been contacted about a four day college football tournament in Monterey, California. He'd pitched the opportunity to her and the rest of the physical therapists at a clinic meeting last month and Billie had put her hand up to go. Namely, because Bec and Ben had a gorgeous beach house down in Monterey that Billie had spent countless girls' weekends at. Knowing that Bec wouldn't batter an eyelid if she asked to borrow it for a few days, she'd jumped at the idea of a mini getaway at the beach - even if she had to work for a little while she was there.

“Can you make sure you've done your stock order by the end of the week please? Whatever sports tapes and creams you think you'll need for it”

Billie exhales and leans her hip against the door frame, shaking her head at her boss.

“Why on earth do you think I haven't already done that Ross?” Billie asks, grinning when Ross rolls his eyes and laughs, “I mean we've only worked together for how long? It's like you don't know me at all”.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry” he says, waving her off.

Billie laughs and turns to exit his office, Ross’ voice making her stop.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood today?”

Billie turns to look at Ross curiously. “Am I not usually?”

Ross laughs. “You’re always happy and bubbly Billie, but it just feels like you have an extra spring in your step today”

Billie shrugs innocently, knowing full well that it's the evening activities she has planned that's making her seem giddy. But her boss certainly doesn't need those extra details.

Billie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by Ross’ phone ringing, the two sharing a look that says ‘talk later’ without words. Ross nods at her before he picks up his phone, Billie waving him off and walking out to collect her next patient.

---

Billie is lighting her favourite coffee scented candle on the table when she hears the knock at the door, Nugget jumping from his bed and barrelling down the hallway like a rhino in a stampede. She puts the box of matches down and makes her way to the front door, pausing to quickly look over her reflection in the oversized hallway mirror. 

She exhales heavily, looking back at her face.

Glen Powell is about to be in her house.

It's words she never thought she'd say in a million years, yet here she is, about to invite him in on a third date. 

A third date, that she's very much hoping ends in the stereotypical way it's said that third dates do.

Billie is acutely aware of the way her heart is doing backflips in her chest, her insides feeling giddy as she pulls open the door.

“Hey there peach”

Billie's cheeks instantly flush at his nickname, never mind the utterly sexy smile on his face that makes her temporarily forget her own name. He’s dressed in a tight tan t-shirt that Billie can’t help but notice is nearly strangling his thick biceps, his hair fluffy and brushed back like it was in the photo he'd sent her earlier.

It takes everything she has not to jump him right there and then. 

“Peach?” she questions with a grin at Glen, tilting her head and leaning her temple against the door edge.

He grins, shrugging his broad shoulders adorably. “I dunno, it just came to me”.

Billie laughs then, opening the door all the way and gesturing for Glen to come in. He’s holding a wriggling Brisket in one arm, the tiny dog desperate to get to Nugget who is similarly wriggling with excitement at Billie’s feet. Billie manages a quick hello pat before Glen bends and lets Brisket run off into the house, the two dogs galloping away already in play mode.

Glen steps inside and stands beside Billie, the heady scent of his delicious cologne instantly clouding her. She barely has time to close the door behind her before Glen's hands are on her, his lips finding hers in a heated kiss that leaves her breathless and wanting.

“I've been thinking about doing that all day” he whispers when they eventually part, his lips still only an inch from hers, one of his hands reaching up to tuck one side of her loose hair behind her ear.

It's the smallest gesture, but in an instant it has Billie melting.

“That makes two of us” Billie replies, her eyes never leaving his full lips, reaching for his jaw and pulling him back in for another tender kiss that he immediately deepens with his tongue.

God, if she didn't stop now they'd end up fucking in her hallway.

She forces herself away from him knowing that she’ll lose control if she lets their kiss continue for even a second longer, feeling her stomach squeeze in the best way when he keeps hold of her hand and lets her lead him down the hallway.

“Can I get you a drink?” Billie asks, gesturing for Glen to take a seat and walking over to open the back door for Nugget and Brisket to go outside, “I’ve got beer, wine, soda or water”.

“I’ll take a beer please” he says, pulling out a stool and sitting down, resting his elbows on the bench.

Billie can’t help but smile at the sight of him sitting in her kitchen. It all seems so domestically normal, but really, it’s anything but that. It’s like she has to actively work to keep her eyes from staring at him - at his thick, tanned forearms, his full, plump lips, or his gorgeous green eyes that are currently following her around her kitchen. The kitchen of which, she’d happily let him take her on every single surface of. 

She exhales silently through her nose. 

Fuck.

“I realise that I should have asked this earlier” Billie asks suddenly, turning and opening the fridge to retrieve a beer and an already opened bottle of pinot grigio, “But please tell me you eat sushi? Because I definitely don’t have an option B prepared”

Glen laughs, his deep chuckle echoing in the kitchen. “I do. Did you order in?”

Bille shakes her head, popping the cap off the beer and handing him the bottle. “No, we’re making it”

Glen eyes her curiously, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve never made sushi before”.

“It's easy, I promise”, Billie says as she pours herself a glass of white wine, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a sip, “I’ve got it all ready to go”.

“How was work today?” Glen asks when Billie starts taking her already chopped and prepared ingredients out of the fridge and laying them on the bench in front of Glen.

She tells him about Dani, her patient that pulled a new personal best, and about the Monterey trip in August. 

“Do you go on trips like that often?” 

Billie shrugs as she peels two sheets of dried seaweed from the packet, laying them on the bamboo mats in front of her and Glen. 

“I've been on a few actually. The last one was a baseball tournament in Boston last October” she explains as she pulls the bowl of now cooled sushi rice from the stove onto the bench, “I went with Shanya, one of my younger colleagues and honestly it felt more like a holiday than work. We had the best time. Got to see Fenway too, which was definitely a highlight”.

Glen listens intently as she talks, Billie feeling his eyes on her as she leans against the bench and takes another sip of her wine. She loves the way each part of her body feels as he looks at her, her mind soon wandering and imagining how his hands would feel instead.

For a second she seriously considers completely ditching dinner and moving straight to the part of tonight she’s been thinking about all day.

“Okay so do you have any idea how to do this?”

Glen shakes his head no, the adorable expression on his face making Billie laugh.

“The hardest part is making sure you don't put too much rice, and then the rolling of course” Billie explains, using a spoon to flatten a layer of rice onto the seaweed sheet, “Then you just add your fillings long ways like this” she adds, arranging salmon, avocado and Japanese mayonnaise horizontally across the rice.

She wets her fingers and carefully rolls up the seaweed, looking up at Glen when she's produced a perfect looking sushi roll.

“See, easy right?”

Glen laughs, clearly not convinced.

They spend the next fifteen minutes making sushi, Billie offering her best constructive criticism and chuckling when Glen's first attempt immediately unrolls on the plate. The second one is a little better albeit has filling falling out the sides, Glen clapping his hands in triumph when it stays put on the plate and making Billie laugh harder.

If her life were a movie, this scene would be shown as a video montage in the kitchen with a fun pop song in the background, cutting between snippets of Billie and Glen laughing and grinning at one other. 

She can’t help but smile stupidly at the thought.

“Wow, you can't half tell which ones are mine” Glen comments when they’ve finished, taking a sip of his beer as Billie clears the empty prep plates into the sink, “Mine look terrible”.

Billie scoffs. “For someone that’s never made sushi before, I think they’re a pretty good first attempt”

Glen flashes her a grateful smile that Billie returns with her own, asking him to refill their drinks as she sets about slicing the sushi rolls and bringing them over to the table.

“How old are you in this photo?”

Billie looks up at Glen to find him pointing at one of the many photos on her fridge door, walking closer to see that it’s the one of her and Sloane at Camp America.

It's one of her favourite photos, her and Sloane standing with their arms wrapped around each other, faces plastered with enormous happy smiles as they balance precariously on stand up paddleboards. 

A split second after the photo was taken, they'd lost their balance and splashed into the freezing but stunning turquoise blue waters of Lake Tahoe.

To this day, Billie wasn't sure if it was the happiness on their faces or the memory of them falling and laughing that made her love the photo so much.

“That would have been seven years ago now, so twenty three, twenty four?” Billie replies, coming to stand next to Glen and looking back at the photo nostalgically, “God that was an incredible Summer”.

“You know what’s incredible?” Glen asks, tilting his head as he looks down at Billie beside him, “You in that bikini’. Fuckin’ hell darlin’’” 

“Oh stop it” Billie replies, punching Glen’s shoulder playfully. 

“I'm serious, peach. You'd have driven all of the teenage boys crazy looking like that” Glen adds, clicking his tongue as he looks back at the photo, “I can just imagine them all lining up to have you as their camp counsellor”.

Billie laughs. “Actually, I was mostly in charge of teaching water sports and leading hikes”.

“And they were the most popular activities?”

Billie grins. “They were pretty popular, yes”.

Glen's face splits into an even bigger grin, Billie shaking her head and walking back over to the table.

“So what about you?” Billie asks when they’re both seated minutes later, taking a sip of her now full wine glass and looking across at Glen, “How was your day? The photoshoot?”.

Glen’s eyes are narrowed as he momentarily focuses on dipping a slice of sushi roll into the bowl of soy sauce without dropping it, Billie glancing over at Nugget and Brisket and smiling when she sees them both squeezed onto the dog bed in the living room. 

“It went well, as good as photoshoots can go I suppose” he reasons, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “After a while, they sort of all blend together. But sometimes they’re fun”

“Do you at least get to keep the clothes?”

Glen laughs. “Sometimes. But also, some of the shit they get you to wear, I don’t know what they’re thinking sometimes”

Billie laughs then, covering her mouth as she chews.

They soon settle into a quiet comfort, eating, talking and laughing. 

Billie isn't sure she’s ever met a man who could make her laugh as much as Glen did, and certainly not one that she could have such a rich conversation with at the same time. Not only that, the way Glen looked at her as she spoke - like she’s the most stunning, intriguing, sexy thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

It was hard not to feel fucking incredible when he looked at her like that.

Billie smiles to herself and lets out a silent breath as she settles back into her chair, her mind quietly wondering about all the other ways that Glen could make her feel.

Fuck.

---

Glen

Glen relaxes back into the couch, cold beer in hand as he watches Billie standing at the back door waiting for the dogs to come back inside after their dinner. For the millionth time in the hour and a bit that he’s been here, he pushes away the sinful thoughts of Billie that have all but plagued his mind for the last three days. 

She looks somehow even better than he remembered from Sunday, today dressed in a pair of slouchy denim cut offs that end high on her toned, tanned thighs, and a loose white knit sweater that seems to keep slipping down to reveal one smooth, bare shoulder. The top half of her hair is pulled back from her face with a tortoiseshell coloured clip, a few loose bits falling around her face as the rest tumbles down her back in soft, chocolate waves.

He wonders idly if she has any idea how god damn sexy she is, Glen forcing himself to look away from her bare legs when she whistles for Nugget and Brisket to hurry up. 

He looks around the living room, loving the homey details that are so uniquely Billie, his eyes falling on a photo book on the coffee table in front of him. He reaches for the book and starts to flip through it, smiling at each new page of the lovingly snapped and collated photos that display all of the people and things that Billie loves.

There’s multiple snaps and pictures of Nugget - from when he was an adorable tiny puppy all the way through the giant golden bear that he is now. Of him and Billie at the beach - Billie kneeling and smiling happily at the camera while Nugget stands saturated and panting beneath her arm, of Billie laughing as she holds Nugget like a baby - his head flopped upside down and tongue lolling out to the side, a selfie of the two of them with their faces side by side. 

Next is photos of Sloane, Bec and Billie at various times - the three of them posing and dressed to the nines at a formal event, another of them each holding a fruity cocktail, sun-kissed and smiling as they stand on beach somewhere tropical, and another of the three of them standing together arms intertwined with their heads thrown back in laughter.

Glen looks up when Billie comes over to the couch, shifting to give her more room when she sits down beside him. Her sweet, peachy perfume fills his nose as she leans into him, her knees bent and folded beneath her. He smiles down at her for a moment, Billie oblivious to his gaze as she picks up her phone and navigates to Spotify, a soft Luke Combs song suddenly playing from the living room speaker.

Glen looks back at the book as Billie sips her wine, flipping the page and looking down at a picture of Billie standing arm in arm with a guy. It takes him a second to realise that he has the same honey-green eyes as Billie, the shape of their smiles similarly wide and happy. 

“Is this Bradley?” Glen asks, noting more similarities between the two of them the more he looks at the picture.

Billie nods.

“And that” she adds, leaning over and pointing to two pictures on the page next to it, “Is Harrison and Kiara”.

“Kiara looks like you” Glen comments looking down at the adorable brunette girl in the picture, Billie leaning her head on Glen’s shoulder and smiling almost nostalgically. 

“Bradley and Jordyn say that all the time”.

Glen looks down at Billie and smiles softly. 

“You miss them”

“Everyday” she replies, letting out a quiet exhale, “You know what it’s like with nieces and nephews”.

Glen smiles gently but doesn’t say anything, closing the book after a few more pages and turning to look at Billie. 

“So you said you don’t start until late tomorrow?”

Billie nods, turning so that her body is facing Glen, leaning one elbow on the back of the couch and resting her cheek in her hand.  “Yep. I’m going to that gymnastics meet. So I don’t have to be in until 12”

“So you can sleep in then?”

A grin slowly grows on Billie's face then, a playful look in her bright hazel eyes.

“I can, yes”.

Glen can’t help the expression that takes over his face.

“I like sleeping in”.

Billie raises one eyebrow, her head tilting as she looks back at him.

“Is that right?”

His lips stretch into a mischievous grin and he nods, Billie grinning as she taps her fingers against the wine glass in her free hand. 

“You know what I like even more?” he breathes, reaching out to tuck stray hairs behind Billie’s ear as his eyes fall to her plush lips.

“Tell me”

“Kissing you”

Glen’s hand cups her smooth cheek and he leans in and kisses her, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, tender embrace. He can taste the wine on her tongue, her mouth moving against his in a way that makes his stomach flip, Glen moving his hand into her hair and deepening their intimate kiss.

Billie lets out a soft moan that he swallows with his lips, the sound making Glen’s whole body stir in the best way. He can feel his arousal growing, his heart starting to race, his grip tightening in Billie’s hair as he explores her mouth with his tongue. 

He wants more, needs more, suddenly desperate to feel more of Billie beneath his fingertips.

Glen pulls away for a second, lungs starting to burn, reaching down to take the wine glass from her hands and deposit it on the coffee table. Billie understands the action immediately, barely waiting for Glen to sit back before she’s climbing into his lap, straddling his legs and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her lips are back on his in an instant, their kiss immediately deepening, Glen kissing her hungrily as his hands fall to her waist and grip at the thickest part of her hips. The feel of her curves in his hands makes him dizzy, even more so when Billie threads her fingers into his hair and drags her nails against his scalp. 

He groans then, the sound clearly having an effect on Billie, her hips grounding down into him in response. He’s hard now, painfully hard, and he knows Billie can feel it as she starts to rock her hips into him. 

Fuck he wants her, every single part of her, all over him and everywhere. 

Glen finds the hem of her sweater, sliding his fingers underneath the thin cotton and onto her buttery-soft skin, pressing his fingers into her warm flesh and pulling her flush against his chest. The action makes Billie break their kiss, dropping her head back as a breathy moan escapes her, Glen not missing a beat and dragging his lips along her jaw. 

He’s overwhelmed by her scent - sweet and heady and driving every one of his senses mad, completely lost in her as he kisses her ear, her neck, her collarbone. 

“Fuck, Glen” Billie sighs, her voice barely louder than a whisper, a wanting, almost pained moan following when Glen sucks at the thin skin near the base of her throat.

He’s just about to move lower, all of a sudden desperate to have his lips on her chest, Billie suddenly somehow reading his mind and reaching for the bottom of her sweater. He pulls back for just a moment, hands helping to peel the soft material from her body, a groan he can’t control falling from him at the sight that’s now in front of him. 

He doesn’t know where to look first, painfully aware of the way his length is straining in his jeans beneath Billie, eyes glued to her breasts held in only just by a small, black bralette. They’re not big but they’re certainly not small, round and perky and threatening to fall out of the thin cotton material with the smallest of movements. He can see her nipples straining against the fabric, his tongue reflexively wetting his lips at the sight, his breathing turning ragged when he reaches out and cups her soft flesh.

Billie drops her head back again, sounding nothing short of perfect when she sighs his name, every single one of Glen’s muscles clenching as she arches her back into his hands and all but begs for his touch. He kneads her tits in his hands, thumbs swiping roughly over her covered nipples, looking up when Billie lifts her head back up and gazes down at him with seductive, hooded eyes.

“Fuckin’ hell peach, you’re gorgeous” Glen breathes, words trailing off into another strangled groan when Billie rolls her hips against his. 

She cups his face with both hands and pulls him back in for a kiss, this time hungry and feverish, like she can’t get enough of him fast enough. Glen responds eagerly, licking into her mouth and matching her desperation, his hands palming her harder as his thumbs drag the thin cotton down so that her breasts fall free.

The sound she lets out when he plays with her nipples is absolutely sinful, the way her breathing becomes instantly shaky making Glen want to growl. He breaks their kiss by biting down on her bottom lip, leaving her mouth and licking his way down to her chest. 

In that moment he swears he could stay there forever, drunk on Billie’s scent, her taste and feel beneath his lips, kissing and mouthing her smooth, silky skin. She cries out when his lips close around her left nipple, her back arching into his chest and his free hand moving to hold her there. He suckles at her, loving the way she all but shudders in his arms, her hips increasing their pressure with each new roll against him.

“Glen” she breathes, her voice soft and erotic, her hands threading once again into his hair and tugging gently, “Bedroom. Let’s go to the bedroom”

Reluctantly he releases her nipple - though not before savouring her for one more delicious moment, his grip on her waist tightening when she moves to stand up from his lap. He’s having none of that, instead moving both of his arms to her thighs, Billie letting out a surprised chuckle when he stands up from the couch with her wrapped firmly in his arms.

“Direct me, darlin’”

Billie laughs and bends and kisses him, Glen loving the plush, swollen feel of her lips, the two grinning back at one another as she instructs him to head down the hall to the last room on the left. 

He’s instantly distracted by Billie’s breasts in his face, unable to stop himself from immediately returning his lips to her sensitive flesh, navigating around the couch blindly as Billie tries to concentrate on guiding him.

Bumping into a side table and the wall of the hallway, several giggles fall from the both of them as they eventually make it to the bedroom. Glen bends and sits Billie down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she peels off her bralette and pulls the clip from her hair, Glen simultaneously shedding his t-shirt.

He loves the way she looks back at him then, her eyes sultry and wanting as they roam over his now shirtless torso, Glen’s own gaze dragging between her swollen lips and naked chest. Just when he thinks Billie couldn’t possibly look any sexier - a seductive, wanton goddess, all flushed cheeks and tousled hair, he sees her hands move to her shorts and watches as her fingers make quick work of the button and zip. 

Glen feels like he’s frozen then, unable to do anything but watch, his breath coming short and heavy as Billie slowly, torturously, shimmies the denim material down her legs. She slides them down to her ankles and lifts both feet in the air towards Glen, daring him to take them from her as the new position of her legs teases an explicit view of between her thighs.

A groan falls from Glen, low and rumbling from somewhere deep within him, Billie grinning seductively when he grabs the shorts from her ankles and tosses them onto the floor behind him. She moves to scoot backwards but is stopped by Glen’s hand on her calf, Glen instead pulling her closer to the edge of bed as he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

He doesn’t miss the soft whimper that falls from Billie when he pulls her legs apart and rests her thighs on his shoulders, the sight of her naked save for a skimpy, black cotton thong stirring something primal in him. He swears he could look at her all day like this, feeling dizzy from the sight of her, the smell of her arousal, the sound of her increasing breathing. He swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry, his own arousal throbbing painfully inside his jeans as he thinks about what he’s about to do.

Glen’s been thinking about doing this since the moment he first kissed Billie, wondering what she’d taste like, what she’d feel like and what she’d sound like coming undone on his tongue. It’s his favourite thing to do - something he enjoys arguably more than sex, unsure if it’s the way he can tease and bring them right to the edge, the sight of them when they eventually fall apart above him, or the way they feel when they spasm against his mouth that he loves so much. 

He inhales heavily, hands sliding beneath Billie’s ass and grabbing at the thick part of her thighs, holding her steady and bending to press a kiss to her hip. He grins to himself when she lets out the softest whimper, looking up to see her eyes trained on him, her lips pressed together as her chest rises and falls quickly. 

He loves the desperate look in her eyes, he’s mad for it, feeling the electric tension in the air as she silently begs him to kiss her lower.

He kisses along the waistband of her thong, moving slowly as he holds her steady, tongue drawing delicate circles along her sensitive skin. He knows he’s driving her mad, watching as her jaw clenches and her fingers flex into the sheets below her, her eyes following his every movement. He grins as he moves lower, kissing over the cotton now, feeling her heat beneath the material as his fingers dig into her harder. He holds her gaze for a moment longer, electricity and an unspoken communication between them, finally tearing his eyes away and looking down as he hooks his finger and pulls her panties to the side.

And god if it’s not the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen, his deep muscles clenching in the most delicious, desperate way.

He groans.

“Fuck peach, look at you”.

His eyes run over her syrupy folds, pink and glistening and begging to be tasted, his tongue wetting his lips before he bends and kisses her sex. The second his mouth is on her Billie tosses her head back into the sheets, a beautiful, breathy moan falling from her that makes Glen grip her harder.

He doesn’t waste any time, burying his tongue into her velvet flesh, his nose brushing her clit as he kisses her open-mouthed like he would her lips. The moans he teases from Billie are nothing short of erotic, an intimate melody Glen would happily listen to for hours. He brings his fingers to her sex and uses his thumbs to spread her open, licking and sucking at her sensitive flesh until he feels her muscles starting to tremble. 

His name falls from her lips between a myriad of expletives, her voice slowly getting louder as her body starts to writhe on the bed. Glen knows he’s got her then, knowing he’s close to teasing out her first release, determined to give her as many as she can take as he quickens the pace with his tongue. 

“Oh Glen fuck” she moans when his lips find her clit, circling and sucking as her hips start to ground into his mouth.

He groans into her folds, loving how she’s practically fucking his face, moving one hand to her pubic bone and flattening down to hold her steady. She sucks in a long, shuddering breath and Glen knows she’s almost there, increasing his pace with his tongue and watching as she tries to buck her hips against his hold.

“I’m close Glen, I’m close” she breathes, moans punctuating her words, her eyes squeezed shut as her hands fist into the sheets.

“That’s it darlin’, let me hear you” Glen whispers against her, sucking one of her luscious folds into his mouth and loving the way she cries his name, “I wanna hear you, peach”.

Keeping one hand flat on her pelvis, he drags two fingers through her folds and coats them with her slick, easing them inside her and looking up when she cries out in pleasure. Glen groans out loud, his eyes not knowing where to focus first, torn between the way his fingers look knuckles deep within her, the sight of her wet, syrupy folds practically dripping onto his hand, and her gorgeous, near naked form trembling on the bed.

Glen can’t get enough.

And neither can Billie.

He curls his fingers in the way that he knows will drive her mad, bending and kissing her slick flesh before lavishing it with his tongue. He quickens his pace, fucking her with his fingers and sucking at her clit, Billie’s cries becoming gorgeously desperate as her body soon starts to shake.

In that moment he knows he has her, letting out a heavy breath and coaxing her over the edge.

“Just like that Bil’, that’s it” he breathes against her slit, just loud enough for her to hear over her breathy moans, “Come on darlin’, give it to me. Come for me, sweets”.

His words are her undoing and in an instant he feels her entire body tense and release, Billie’s back arching away from the bed as her head tosses back in ecstasy. His name falls from her lips like a desperate prayer and her hips buck beneath his hold, the sight and sound of Billie’s orgasm taking over her so fucking beautiful that Glen can’t help but stare enamoured. He coaches her through her release, still fucking her slowly with his fingers, eventually stilling within her when she grabs his wrist silently telling him to stop.

He bends and kisses her velvety folds gently, withdrawing his fingers and watching in awe when her body spasms with tiny aftershocks, looking up to see Billie’s chest heaving as she lays back painting on the bed before him. 

He crawls his way up her body, leaving kisses on her heated skin - her hip, her breast, her collarbone, hovering above her and grinning down at her adorable post-orgasm bliss smile.

“You’re an absolute sight when you come darlin’” Glen whispers, bending and kissing her parted lips gently, “Never seen anything more fuckin’ sexy”.

Billie’s eyes flutter open, taking a second to focus on Glen above her, her swollen lips stretching into a soft, playful smile.

“I have” she whispers after a moment, lifting her hands to cup his jaw and pull him down for a kiss, “Your face looking up at me from between my thighs is something I won’t be forgetting anytime soon”.

Glen lets out a deep chuckle, lowering himself onto her and rolling his hips so that his painfully evident arousal presses into Billie’s belly. The action teases a soft, sexy moan from her throat, and suddenly he can’t help but think of another half a dozen things he’d like to do and make her not forget about.

He bends to kiss her then, capturing her lips in a heated, sensual kiss, her hands reaching out and roaming his naked back as his length presses against her, thick, hard and wanting. All at once the tension between them is building again, a growing desire licking at Glen’s insides like a raring, burning fire.

In an instant he can’t think of anything except for how much he wants Billie, how much he wants to make her come again, to bury himself inside her and fuck her over and over into the sheets beneath them - to watch her, hear her, feel her come undone around his cock.

His thoughts make Glen groan into her mouth, forcing himself away and quickly jumping from the bed, Billie propping herself up on her elbows to watch as he reaches for his belt buckle and makes quick work of his belt, jeans and underwear. He stands stark naked then, loving the seductive, hooded gaze that's returned to Billie's face, reaching down to stroke himself as her eyes run over his body and back again.

He's hard, painfully hard, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, looking over her parted lips and down to the tiny black thong that's still pushed to the side and affording him the most sinful view of her still slick folds. She’s like a siren, a vixen, a goddess if ever he's seen one.

And fuck he just can't get enough of her.

Especially not when she reaches over to her nightstand and pulls a condom from the top drawer, scooting backwards into the pillows and winking one gorgeous eye at him. He grins back devilishly, needing no instruction after that, crawling back onto the bed and cupping her jaw, kissing her hungrily as he takes the condom from her fingers.

“You ready darlin’?” he asks when he’s rolled it down his length seconds later, parting Billie’s legs and resting one of her ankles on his shoulder.

She only nods, her chest rising and falling with desperate anticipation, the look in her eyes telling him everything he needs to hear without words. He strokes himself roughly, cursing at the sight of his length dragging through her slick, lining himself up with her velvety folds and exhaling loudly as he meets her eyes once more.

Glen wets his lips and grins, loving the way Billie looks back at him then.

“Hold on, peach. Gonna show you somethin’ else you won’t wanna forget any time soon”.

----

Previous Chapter

TAG LIST:

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[romanscool]

Maxiel as a reward pretty please?

#24: a kiss as a reward - maxiel

hi anon!! thanks so much for this ask (and sorry for the long time it has taken me to write it) I had a lot of fun with this one!!

hope this is what you had in mind <3

enjoy!

->

Max looks so fucking young like this. Standing on a higher step than two fucking world champions, cheeks smushed in a big, big smile that takes up his whole face, eats at it, and makes him glow.

Kimi and Seb looking at him like he’s an enigma, wonder in their eyes and reflecting Max’s shimmer on his skin, race suits full of lukewarm champagne, stale and so disgusting, but also so so good, and Daniel knows it. How fucking good it feels. He’s known it for two years and he relishes on how it looks on Max. Young, eighteen year old, Barcelona Formula One Grand Prix winner, Max.

Daniel doesn’t see it from below the podium, though. He’s a bit too sour for that right now. The sight of Max on the big TV sweetens him, but, he won’t really admit it. 

Daniel sees it from his driver room, slumped and half-lied down on a too-stiff sofa, the same kind Red Bull introduced to him when they did this first-race interview for Max. The sun from outside is shining directly into his eyes, bright and low because it’s almost evening, but Daniel can’t do so much as squinting. It’s like his eyes have to take all of this is fucking 4K. It hurts, burns. Lukewarm and stale. So, so good.

He watches as red spreads on Max’s face from ear to ear, makes the navy blue of his fireproofs pop out, and the dirty blondish short hair look even more sweaty. Champagne-y. He watches as Max takes the big trophy in his hands and holds it until his fingertips turn white, watches him tuck too-short hair behind his ear and replace the cap on his baby face. He watches as Max takes big and heavy steps and gets off the podium, watches him until he can’t anymore because the camera doesn’t show him. He watches on as if Max would suddenly get in frame again, but. He doesn’t.

Daniel’s retina have a sun print on them, all silhouette-shaped with wide pale hands in tight fists like it’s taking everything for him not to touch. 

He closes his eyes until all he can see is ocean-blue irises and a flush that doesn’t seem to ever disappear. Closes them so hard that splotches of color appear in his vision like teenage pimples on Max’s jaw. Until they twirl and make him nauseous with the motion, until he feels like he is falling low, low, lower than he’s ever fallen before, until-

« Daniel. » 

Max’s voice breaks through. Catches Daniel’s hand that he wasn’t reaching out, pumps oxygen that he never inhaled for, stops him from drowning when all he wanted to do was wave his hands in the deep end-sand. 

« Max. » Daniel can feel himself smiling. He forgets to be sour. He forgets the shit team strategy. He forgets to remember one day, Max will be better than him.

Daniel hears ruffles behind him, because he still has his back turned to Max, lying in the sofa with his legs half bent on himself. Sitting criss cross with his fingers intertwined above his head. He still has his eyes closed. So, he opens them. He’s met with wide red-brimmed eyes and a fucking smile that Daniel wishes he could carve in his heart.

« Daniel. » Max comes closer, impossibly closer, so close the front of his shin almost touches Daniel’s knee. Daniel can see the peach fuzz sitting so prettily on it and has to tear his eyes from it before he starts thinking crazy thoughts, « Daniel, did you see? » 

Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max gets like this. Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max is still a kid. Eighteen. A teenager. It’s still pretty anchored in his mind, and that’s mostly why he hasn’t allowed himself to think foresaid crazy thoughts, and it’s also hard to ignore when his dad comes to nearly every fucking race, and that barely six months ago, Max wasn’t even allowed to drive a car. A regular car, that is, because Max is a fucking menace that gets a super license to drive race cars at 300 kilometers per hour without being of age. Fuckin’ monster. 

But, it’s also easy to forget. When Max wins a fucking Grand Prix for example. When Max talks with the engineers like he fucking belongs, like he’s been doing this all his life, and Daniel guesses he has, in a way. 

Except right now, Max is asking Daniel if he’s seen him. Like a kid asking their dad if he’s seen him win a dumb challenge in school, a football match by a couple points. Like Daniel was not driving a car at the same time Max was winning the race.

Daniel shakes his head. « Yeah, Max, I did. » It’s not a lie, per se, because Daniel has seen the replay. Has seen Max cross the line and nearly cry all over himself. Daniel realizes he’s never seen Max cry. He’s pretty sure he’d be pretty anyway. 

Max watches him with stars in his eyes. Like it’s the most important thing anyone has ever told him and Daniel feels crazy with it, with Max’s, Barcelona Grand Prix winner Max’s, attention. With the wonder and amazement. Daniel suddenly feels very big. 

« I’m proud of you, Maxy. » He doesn’t know where the nickname comes from, worries for a second that maybe it’s fucking weird, because it would be in normal circumstances, if it was anyone but Max, but Max doesn’t seem to mind it. He’s got his face contorted in this half-downturned smile that Daniel finds so fucking sweet, glisten on his cheek from the mix of sweat and champagne, some among his dark eyelashes clump together. He kind of looks like a girl. 

And, God, Max just whimpers. Like. A throaty, high-pitched sound that Daniel doesn’t think he has ever heard in his life but god, he wants to hear it again. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t. 

Max doesn’t make that sound again. He flushes a deep dark red that reminds Daniel of the beetroots his grandpa used to grow in the back of his garden. « Really? » Max asks. It’s gentle. Too gentle. Max should be fully pumped with post-race adrenaline, and even more with post-first-race-win adrenaline, and he kind of looks like he is, softly panting, cap slightly tilted to the side and retinas so wide Daniel worries if Max isn’t on LSD or something. If maybe he isn’t on LSD himself because in a way, this doesn’t feel like something real. 

« Fuck, yeah, Max. » Daniel chuckles a little, and he sees Max’s shoulder just slump. One quick motion of down, down, down, until they’re limp on each side of his waist. Daniel can even see it, his waist, clearly, so clear, too clear, a little transparent and tight because Red Bull didn’t have the time to measure him for well-proportioned fireproofs. « You did great. » 

Max nips at his lips. His full, plump and pinkish lips. They look even more vibrant among the red of his cheeks. « You think? » Max asks again, and Daniel realizes he’s asking for validation. Daniel doesn’t really answer, just nods profusely like a mad man because he’s not sure what his mouth will want to say after this revelation. Max is so, so young. Too fucking young. Fuck.

Max nods too. His smile tones down a little, and he looks tired now. Post-first-race-win-adrenaline crash or something, Daniel guesses. It doesn’t get easier. 

He sits next to Daniel, their thighs brushing against each other, connected from shoulder to hips. Max rests his head on the back of the sofa and Daniel finds it very hard not to watch the whole motion, not to focus on the way his throat works. Up, and down. Up again before Max sighs.

The words blurts out of Daniel’s mouth before his brain can even form them, « You’re gonna get so many drinks free tonight, mate. » 

It seems to make Max chuckle though. The winkles that had started to form on his forehead ease a little. « Yeah? » 

« Yeah. » Daniel’s voice is a little breathy. He hopes Max won’t take it as more than post-race exhaustion. He tries not to say anything more, tries not to say Max deserves the fucking world, and would even if he hadn’t won the race today, but his tongue works faster than his mind. « You could get anything. » Daniel feels like a teenager again, prefrontal cortex not developed enough to make rational decisions. 

« Anything? » Max asks, his head turning to face Daniel. It feels like his blue eyes are glimmer-ish. Daniel nods. His hand finds the part of the sofa just above Max’s cap. Max chuckles. « You think I deserve a reward, Dan? » 

Daniel knows Max is being sarcastic. He knows it’s a joke. And it’s not like he isn’t aquatinted with this kind of mindless banter either, because it is usually the only thing that comes out of his mouth, but there’s this deep, deep thing in his chest that doesn’t want what Max said to be a joke. Something that wants to show him just how much Daniel thinks Max deserves. « Anything. » 

Then, Max swallows. He flushes even more than Daniel thought was possible. His chest aches. 

And out of nowhere, Max says, « I want to kiss you. » 

Or at least, that’s what Daniel thinks he hears. Because that can’t be right. That must be fucking unreal. « What? » 

« A kiss. » Max parrots. Says again. Echoes. Daniel has a hard time finding synonyms to keep himself from pushing his fingertips into Max’s shoulders and pull him in. « As a reward. »

Fuck. This is-, what the. God. Fuckin’-

Max kisses him. Doesn’t even ask if that’s okay with Daniel, even it’s fucking more than okay, like a kid. Max, eighteen, kissing Daniel. How the fuck did that happen? Daniel has no idea but he’s not going to complain.

Actually, he deepens the kiss. No tongue though, because he feels like that would be pushing it too far, even when it’s Max who asked to kiss him. Daniel deepens the kiss softly, just, presses his lips harder into Max’s until he thinks he can feel the freckle on his upper lips, presses a hand on the side of Max’s neck and another in his hair. Chucks the cap away and hears the dull thud of it clashing into the window. 

This feels more like a reward to Daniel for fucking waiting. For not doing anything fucking crazy. 

But, if anybody asks, it’s a reward for Max. For winning the Barcelona Grand Prix at the young age of eighteen years old and two hundred and twenty eight days old. A reward alongside the record. 

more of this on ao3!

don't hesitate to give me more kiss/non-kiss prompts!! love 'em all <3

[cosmicflw3rr]

ooooo or maybe a oneshot about r adopting a pet behind dom’s back and at first he doesn’t like it but slowly starts loving it? 😭😭

otto.

dominik mysterio x fem! reader

summary: you've always wanted a dog, but your boyfriend doesn't due to your busy schedules. a girls' day off leads to adopting an adorable black and white puppy.

A/N: I’m backkkkkk. also I feel this is so unnecessarily long but hope you enjoy!!

you and liv were sitting at a coffee shop in san diego, enjoying the day off you both had.

being a wwe superstar required a non-stop road schedule, with just two days of home time before travelling to the next city for monday night raw.

even then, you weren't sure if you'd make it home every week due to the ongoing live events every week. so, whenever you did have days off, you tried to enjoy them to their fullest.

the two of you had just gotten your drinks, and up until this point, the conversation had been focused on catching up on how work had been. even though you worked together, you rarely saw her due to your different schedules. gradually, the conversation shifted to your home lives and how you had been spending your off days.

“oh my god, wait.” liv chuckled, pulling out her phone and scrolling through it. “the other day I was working out, and kilo would not leave my side at all!” she exclaimed, turning her phone to show you a video.

you watched the video, laughing heartily as kilo, her dog, tried to mimic her workout moves, hopping around and occasionally getting in the way. the video also showed a moment where kilo licked her face.

liv laughed, trying to move away from him, but her attempts were in vain as she eventually gave in, hugging him tightly and showering him with kisses and hugs.

“that’s actually so adorable!” you remarked, still chuckling at the heartwarming video.

she smiled warmly, her eyes meeting yours for a moment before she looked back down at her phone, her fingers deftly scrolling through the screen. “I know! he’s such a sweetheart,” she exclaimed her eyes showing genuine affection.

she then turned her phone towards you again, this time displaying a heartwarming picture of them cuddled up on the couch, kilo nestled comfortably against her, both looking completely content and at peace.

“awww!” you exclaimed, your face lighting up with genuine delight. liv had a warm smile, before turning off her phone and placing it gently on the table. “I’ve always wanted a dog,” you admitted, before you took a sip of your coffee.

the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft murmur of conversations around you. liv leaned in slightly, her expression thoughtful.

she quirked an eyebrow as she also took a sip of her drink, “why don’t you get one?”

you sigh gently tracing the rim of your coffee cup with your index finger. “dom’s not really into the whole idea.”

she took a moment to pause, setting her cup down carefully on the table, her gaze flickering towards you once more. “really?” she asked, “he seems like a dog dad 100%”

you laugh softly, settling back into your chair with a sigh. “he just thinks that since we’re both constantly on the road and barely home, it would be too much to ask either his mom or my parents to take on the responsibility of watching it,” you explain, your shoulders lifting in a shrug of understanding.

yet, a part of you can’t help but wish he’d just give it a try.

liv nodded thoughtfully, genuinely listening to your words, “I can understand where he’s coming from,” she began, her voice gentle and reassuring. “but at the same time, I know that even with our schedules, having a dog could be a good thing.”

“a part of me understands him; we’re just so busy,” you say, pausing for a second to gather your thoughts. “but I feel like a fur baby would be so good for us.”

liv juts out her lip softly looking at you with a ‘awe’ face. "I totally get that," she says, her eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. "maybe the conversation is worth revisiting with dom.” liv shrugs taking another sip of her coffee and glances at the clock on the wall.

"ou come,” she said, “I wanted to stop by this little pet store I saw just down the street while I was driving here."

you both stand up, gathering your things. "okay, let’s go then."

the two of you walk out of the coffee shop together, continuing down the sidewalk and admiring the charming little shops set up along the street. “this street is so adorable, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” you tell her, a soft smile spreading across your face as you take in the surroundings.

you both slowly come to a stop, right in front of a small pet shop/adoption center. “I know, right?” she said, opening the door and causing the little bell to jingle. you followed after her.

“I’ll be right back.” liv said giving you a soft smile before she heads straight for the aisles, searching for the items she needs.

you take a moment to look around, noticing how the shop is much bigger than you expected. the air is filled with a mix of scents—

pet food, and a hint of something sweet, like treats baking in an oven.

the store is well-organized, with bright, colorful displays showcasing various pet supplies. there are shelves lined with toys, beds, and grooming tools, and aisles dedicated to different types of food and treats.

the walls were adorned with pictures of all the pets that had been adopted and their owners.

you look around the store, looking at all the cute little animals they had scattered around, you wander over to the adoption area.

the soft meows and barks immediately catch your attention. as you walk down the aisle you see a variety of dogs.

you stop in front of a kennel and notice a tag that reads "otto." he's an australian shepherd and border collie mix. as you kneel down to get a closer look, you can't help but feel a tug at your heart.

you smile at him as you hook your finger through the fence. otto immediately starts licking it.

"you're such a cute boy," you say, your heart melting a little more with each lick. a worker comes up from behind you.

“believe it or not, but otto’s been here longer than most of our other pets have.”

your smile falls slightly as you look up at the owner, still petting him through the cage. “really?”

the worker nods sympathetically. "yeah, he's a bit of a special case. he's incredibly sweet and so well behaved, but people just seem to overlook him."

you look back down at the dog who was still licking your fingers. “that’s so sad.”

you continue to gently stroke otto's fur, feeling a pang of sadness. "I can't believe no one has taken him home yet. he's perfect." the dog looks up with you with big, hopeful eyes.

the worker smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "he is. we're really hoping someone will see what we see in him soon. he's such a special dog."

liv finds you in the adoption section, her arms filled with an assortment of pet supplies. "hey, I got what I came for," she says, giving you the heads-up that you guys could leave if you wanted to. her gaze falls on the black and white dog you're petting. "oh, who's this handsome guy?" she kneels down next to you, carefully placing her things on the floor before reaching through the fence to pet him as well.

"this is otto," you say, your voice filled with affection as you watch liv interact with him. "he's been here longer than most of the other pets. It's really surprising because he's seems like such a good boy."

liv's eyes soften as she continues to pet otto, her fingers gently scratching behind his ears. "aw, that's heartbreaking. I can't believe no one has taken him home yet, I mean he’s gorgeous.”

you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a brief second. liv looked at you, her gaze knowing and filled with understanding. after a moment you let out a soft whine. "I can't leave him here, liv," you admitted, opening your eyes and looking at her, your eyebrows furrowing and your eyes softening.

liv gave you a reassuring smile, her hand still gently petting otto. "I knew it," she said softly. "I could see it the moment you started talking about him."

you took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision. "I know dom said no pets, but otto, he just... he deserves a home, you know? and I don’t think I can leave him to spend another night here."

liv nodded, her smile growing. "me being an animal lover I say you should do it, but-“ she paused smirking. “if anybody asks I wasn’t with you.” the both of you burst into laughter.

you gave otto one last pet before standing up, sighing and looking at the worker. "I want to adopt him."

the worker’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and joy. "oh my! that's wonderful! I’ll get you started on the paperwork."

you gave otto one last look before you followed the worker to the front desk, liv gathered her things and joined you, her excitement evident. "I think you’re doing the right thing."

you nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "I hope so. I just want him to have a good home."

the worker handed you a stack of forms to fill out, and you began writing down your information, your mind racing with thoughts of how otto would fit into your life. you could already picture coming home to him after a long week.

you could only hope dom wouldn’t be to upset with you. liv leaned over, glancing at the forms. "how you holding up?”

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision you had just made. "I just hope dom won’t be too mad," you said, glancing at liv. "I mean, I adopted a dog behind his back when he’s made clear we’re too busy for one."

liv gave you a sympathetic look, her hand still gently petting otto. "I get it, but sometimes you just have to follow your heart," she said softly. "I think he’ll come around."

you nodded, trying to find comfort in her words. "I hope so, I think we can make it work."

liv nodded, “you definitely can,” before gasping suddenly. you looked towards her, confused. “can I please go pick out some toys, treats, and a cute comfy bed?”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “go ahead, I’m just gonna finish up the paperwork.” she squealed before leaving your side and disappearing into one of the aisles.

not long after liv left, you finished the paperwork. the worker handed you otto’s adoption certificate and a small bag of starter supplies. "thank you for giving otto a home. we can tell he’s going to be so happy with you. I’ll go get him.”

you nodded gratefully, smiling as you gazed over the adoption certificate. as the worker walked away, you glanced around the store, your mind racing with thoughts of how dom would react.

liv returned, her arms loaded with toys, treats, and a plush bed that looked perfect for otto. “look at all this stuff! he’s going to be so spoiled,” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with joy. “yes, he is! and it’s all on his auntie liv.” liv carefully placed the items in the cart with a flourish, then turned to you with a reassuring pat on the back.

you shook your head, a mixture of gratitude and protest in your voice. “no, liv, I can pay—”

“ah ah—” she interjected, cutting you off mid-sentence. “take it as a welcome home gift for my godson.” her tone was playful but firm, leaving no room for argument.

you rolled your eyes, a smirk forming on your lips. “your godson, huh?” you asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at her.

liv shrugged nonchalantly, but her smile grew even wider. “of course! someone has to spoil him rotten, and who better than me?” she winked at you, making it clear that she was thrilled to be part of this new chapter in your life.

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a wave of affection for your friend. “alright, alright. thank you, auntie liv. otto’s going to be one lucky pup with you around.”

the worker returned with otto, who wagged his tail excitedly as he saw you. he jumped up and down, and you couldn't help but smile widely as you bent down to pet him. "ready to go home, boy?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and affection. otto barked in response.

meanwhile, liv took care of paying for all the items you had picked out for otto. With everything settled, you both walked out of the store, otto trotting happily beside you, his leash held loosely in your hand.

as you reached the parking lot, you and liv shared a quick hug and said your goodbyes, each heading to your cars.

you opened the backseat door and gently helped otto climb in, making sure he was comfortable. once he was settled, you closed the door and walked around to the front, sliding into the driver's seat.

after adjusting your seatbelt, you started the car and turned to look back at otto. "ready to go home?" you asked with a smile. otto responded by leaning forward and licking your face, making you laugh out loud. you turned back to the road and began the drive home.

—

you walk into yours and dom’s shared apartment, making your way to the spare room down the hall.

you set otto’s things up meticulously: his toys arranged neatly, his cozy bed in the corner, his crate positioned just right, and his food and water bowls filled and ready. once you're done, you sit down in the middle of the room, watching as otto sniffs around curiously before finally settling on your lap.

you pull out your phone, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness, and dial your mom's number.

"hey, mom!" you say enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face as you see her appear on the screen.

"hey, honey! everything alright?" she asks gently, her voice full of warmth and concern.

"well, I kind of did something," you admit, turning the camera to show otto lounging comfortably on your lap.

her eyes light up immediately. "oh my goodness, he's adorable! what’s his name?" she asks, her excitement mirroring your own.

"his name is otto," you reply, smiling. “he’s an australian shepherd mixed with a border collie, and he’s the sweetest boy ever.” you purse your lips and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, then look back at your mom.

“I thought you and dom weren’t going to get a dog?” she says, her smile still on her face, clearly happy for you.

you wince slightly at the reminder. “we weren’t, but I was out at breakfast with liv, and she needed to pick up some stuff for her pets. It happened to be at an adoption center, and I just fell in love with him,” you explain, waiting for her to scold you.

to your surprise, your mom laughs warmly, the sound filling you with a sense of relief. “well, sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. he’s a beautiful dog, and I can see why you couldn’t resist. when you gonna tell dom?” she asks, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

you look down at the ground, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft fibers of the carpet. “well, he’s not home right now, but as soon as he is, I’m going to tell him.” you take a deep breath, suddenly remembering the other reason you called. “the big problem with having a dog is finding someone to watch him while we’re gone, and I was wondering if you could watch him while dom and I are on the road?”

"of course, I'd love to," she says warmly, her voice filled with reassurance. “I’ve always loved having animals around, and he seems like he’d be wonderful.”

just then, you hear the front door open. "dom's home, gotta go," you whisper hurriedly, hanging up the phone.

you gently stroke otto's fur before standing up, feeling the soft warmth of his coat under your fingers. "shush, buddy," you say softly, giving him one last affectionate pat. you quietly leave the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

you walk down the hallway, and step into the kitchen and see dom placing some things into the fridge. “hey baby,” you say softly, moving closer to him, eager to share a warm embrace once he’s done.

dom glances over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, a smile spreading across his face. he quickly finishes putting the groceries away, then turns to face you, his arms already extending to welcome you into his embrace. "oh hey, cariño," he greets you warmly, his accent never failing to send a shiver down your spine.

you move into him and he wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. his hands find their place on your hips, holding you with a gentle yet firm touch.

you loop your arms around his neck, a tender smile gracing your lips. “how was your morning?” you ask.

he hums contentedly as your arms encircle his neck, feeling the warmth of your touch.

he leans in and presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, taking a moment to just appreciate being with you.

he pulls back slightly, his thumbs still gently rubbing your hips. "It was alright," he replies casually. "the usual stuff—gym, errands, nothing special." he studies your face, noticing a hint of nervousness in your eyes. "you okay, babe?"

you nod, looking up at him as you bite your lip nervously. untangling yourself from his embrace, you take a step back placing your hand on the counter for support. “I have to tell you something, and I know you’re going to be a little pissed off, but I want you to hear me out.”

at your words, his expression shifts to one of concern, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leans back against the counter. he crosses his arms over his chest, a habit he has when he's worried.

he continues to study your face carefully, recognizing that something is troubling you. he nods slowly, signaling for you to continue. "okay," he says softly, his tone neutral yet attentive. "I'm listening."

“okay, so today after breakfast, liv and I stopped by a pet store. It had this adoption center inside.” you pause, trying to gauge his reaction as you continue speaking softly. “I couldn’t resist... I adopted a dog.” you stop, waiting for his response.

dom's eyes widen in shock, clearly taken aback by your confession. his arms drop to his sides in disbelief.

he takes a moment to process your words, then shakes his head slightly as if trying to clear his thoughts. "you what?" he says finally, his voice a little sharper than usual. “you adopted a dog—without even talking to me first?”

your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, feeling the weight of his reaction. “I know. I should’ve talked to you first!” you try to explain, hoping to ease his frustration. “but I saw him, and I don’t know, I just couldn’t say no.”

he runs a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. he takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

"you 'couldn't say no'?" he repeats, his tone becoming annoyed. "babe, we live in an apartment. we have a pretty busy schedule. you can't just adopt a pet without discussing it with me first. we're supposed to make these decisions as a team, remember?"

you inhale looking down at the ground before looking at him. “I know baby. I’m sorry..”

he sighs, seeing the genuine remorse on your face. his expression softens slightly, but he's still clearly frustrated with the situation.

"I get that you love dogs," he says, his voice slightly calmer than before. "but you can't just make these kind of decisions on a whim. we need to think about this logically—our lifestyles, our schedules. we're constantly traveling and doing press, we don't have the time to take care of a dog properly."

“I know!” you counter trying to make him see your point, to at least hear you out. “I know we’re traveling a lot but my mom can watch him she’s already agreed to, and I’ve heard people at work say having a dog to come home too is a good thing.”

dom's expression softens even more, his irritation fading slightly. "your mom agreed to watch him while we're gone?" he asks, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

you nod, hoping he’ll understand

he takes another deep breath, mulling over the idea in his mind. he knows you've already adopted the dog, so there's no going back now.

"but what about when we do come home?" he asks, turning his attention back to you. he studies your face, noticing the hopefulness in your eyes. “like I said our schedule are pretty packed even at home. how are we supposed to find time to take care of a pet on top of that?"

“dom i know it sounds stressful, but it doesn’t have to be.” you assure him. “I’ll take care of him. my off days are pretty chill, and most of the times so are yours.”

dom runs a hand through his hair again, clearly conflicted. he knows you mean well, and he can see how much you love this dog already.

"babe, I get it, I really do," he says, his tone calmer than before. "but I'm just worried about how we're gonna make this work. I don’t want it to be a burden on you. you've already got a lot on your plate."

“baby I got this, please just trust me.” you ask him softly, reaching for his hand.

dom sighs, looking down at your hand in his. he can't deny that the thought of having a dog in the apartment makes him a bit happy too, even if he's still worried about the details.

he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gently. "I do trust you," he says quietly. "but we're in this together, alright? we’re gonna make this work."

your soft frown turns into a smile. “we’re in this together.” you repeat softly.

he nods, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "we are," he replies, his voice warm and reassuring.

he takes a step closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist again, pulling you closer against him. "just promise me one thing," he says, looking down at you with a serious expression.

you look up at him confused, humming in response.

dom quirks an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his lips. he can't help but be a little bit excited at the thought of seeing the dog you've secretly adopted.

"do I want to meet him? of course I do," he says, his tone a mix of sarcasm and amusement. "lead the way, cariño."

you pull away from him, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway to the spare room. you open the door to see otto laying down in the same spot you’d left him in asleep.

dom follows you into the room, his expression softening as he sees otto for the first time. he can't deny that the pup is adorable, all cozy in the spare room.

"wow," he says quietly, a hint of awe in his voice. "so this is the little guy, huh?"

he steps into the room, approaching otto slowly, not wanting to startle the sleeping dog. you do the same slowly sitting next to the sleeping puppy.

dom sits down next to you, watching as otto stirs slightly, lifting his head to look at you both. he notices that the puppy has a curious look on his face, as if assessing the new stranger in his room.

he reaches out a hand, gently scratching otto behind the ear. "he’s kind of cute," he murmurs, a small smile on his face.

you look at dom a wide smile before looking at otto. “this is your daddy otto.” you say softly placing a soft kiss on the dogs head.

dom smiles at the sight, his heart melting a little at how sweet you're being with the puppy. he stretches out a hand, gently scratching the top of otto's head. "hey there, buddy," he says quietly, his voice warm and soothing.

otto tilts his head in response, his tail thumping on the ground as he seems torecognize the affection from both of you.byou smile looking at otto before looking at how dom was with the dog.

dom's expression softens even more as he continues to play with the puppy, gently scratching behind his ears and petting his soft fur.

he can't help but grin as otto seems to respond to his touch, whining affectionately and trying to crawl into his lap. he looks over at you, joy in his eyes.

dom grins at your laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think he likes me," he says jokingly, as otto continues to crawl onto his lap, resting his head comfortably against dom's chest.

“I think he does.”

a year later.

It was yours and dom’s day off. you both had, had the most hectic week. wrestlemania was coming up and quickly.

so when you had asked him to join you at the gym he declined and told you he was just going to watch a movie.

you’d just come back from your morning workout, you could hear the tv playing softly in the background, and the apartment was dim, lit only by the gloomy light filtering in from outside. The rain had left a gentle patter against the windows.

you unlock your apartment door and step inside. “baby, I’m home,” you call out softly, not really paying attention as you kick off your shoes and place your water bottle into the fridge. when you don’t hear a response, your eyebrows furrow in mild confusion.

just as you’re about to call out again, you notice dom lying on the couch, fast asleep, with the tv quietly playing a movie in the background. you walk around the kitchen island and see dom cuddled up with otto, who was also sleeping peacefully.

a smile spreads across your face as you take out your phone and snap a quick picture. “we are too busy for dogs, my ass,” you tease softly, chuckling to yourself.

dom stirs at the sound of your voice, slowly opening his eyes as he becomes conscious of your presence. he blinks a few times, adjusting to the dim light of the apartment.

he looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he notices you taking a picture of him cuddling with otto. "hey, you're home," he says, his voice still rough and groggy from sleep.

dom glances down at otto, who remains cuddled up against him, eyes half-lidded and content. "yeah, yeah," he mutters, rolling his eyes playfully.

you laugh, sitting down next to dom, causing otto to slowly wake up as well. “I missed you boys.”

dom wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. he chuckles softly as otto raises his head, looking at you with his big, sleepy eyes.

"we missed you too," he says, a hint of affection in his voice. he gently scratches behind otto's ear, eliciting a soft whine from the pup.

you cuddle into dom, humming in contentment as your eyes flutter closed. “nope,” you say, getting up reluctantly. “I need to shower, I’m sweaty.”

dom groans softly as you get up, clearly not ready to let go of your cuddles.

"do you have to?" he whines jokingly, pouting slightly. He looks up at you with puppy-dog eyes, trying to convince you to stay.

“we can cuddle and take a nap after I shower. I promise.”

dom sighs in mock defeat, a small pout still on his face. "fine," he relents, reluctantly pulling his arm away from you.

"but you better not take forever, or I might fall asleep without you," he teases, his eyes still sleepy and half-lidded.

“I won’t.” just then, you run to the bathroom, getting into the shower as quickly as you can.

dom watches as you hurry off to the bathroom, letting out a small chuckle, amused by your eagerness to shower and be back with him.

he stretches out on the couch, reaching for the remote to turn off the movie that's still playing on the tv. he then turns his attention to otto, who's now standing beside him, waiting for your return.

"she takes quick showers," dom says to the dog, as if trying to explain your absence. "don't worry, she'll be back soon."

you finish up, throwing on sweats and one of dom’s hoodies.

dom looks up as you re-enter the living room, his eyes wandering over your sweatpant-clad legs and the oversized hoodie you're wearing. he smirks slightly, recognizing it as one of his.

"nice outfit," he teases, a hint of admiration in his eyes.

“hush,” you tease, sitting down in your previous spot and cuddling up next to him.

dom chuckles softly as you settle back beside him, immediately draping his arm around your shoulders. he pulls you closer against his chest, enjoying the feeling of you against him.

"so clingy," he teases, a hint of affection in his voice. he gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing aimless patterns on your skin.

you roll your eyes, leaning into him a bit more, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. just then, otto jumps up onto your lap, his tail wagging excitedly. you can’t help but smile as he settles down, nuzzling into you.

dom laughs softly, watching. "looks like someone missed you," he says, reaching over to give otto a gentle pat on the head.

you scratch behind otto's ears, feeling the soft fur under your fingers. "yeah, he’s a little cuddle bug," you reply, your voice filled with affection.

dom's arm tightens around you both, creating a cozy little bubble of warmth and love. "our little family," he murmurs, his voice content.

LIKED BY DOMINIK 35, RHEARIPLEY_WWE, ARCHEROFINFAMY, YAONLYLIVVONCE & 3 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: love coming home to my boys❤️

VIEW COMMENTS

dominik_35: love you amor🖤

y/n: love you moree 🖤🖤

yaonlylivvonce: my godsonn 😍

y/n: he misses you! visit soon😊

archerofinfamy: my man otto

y/n: 😭😭

[kingofthecotas]

ivy

post-aragón, vale & pecco & the ever-present spectre of marc | ~900 words

hi hello i write things sometimes

———

Valentino doesn’t call until Monday, when the heat of anger has faded and the dust has been washed from his hair, seven hours behind and six hours spent on track—one of Marc’s tracks, irony of ironies.

(Sometimes he wonders if he can ever extricate himself from this, from them, from the noxious tendrils that have wound themselves into the sport’s neurones and synapses, an incurable infection of the central nervous system.)

Pecco almost hesitates to answer—still afraid of disappointing him, even after all this time—but his shoulder throbs when he reaches out to pick up his phone and he suddenly wants the sound of Valentino’s voice, even if it carries judgment.

“Hello?” he says, cautious.

“Are you okay?”

“Sore. Will bruise, but fine. I’ll be okay for Misano.”

Valentino hums. “Good.”

Pecco searches for something, anything, that doesn’t remind him of gravel crunching, his head snapping forwards as one hundred and fifty kilos of aluminium and rubber collided with the back of his helmet. “Sorry about your race. It was going well.”

“It was. It was fun.” He can almost see Vale waving his hand. “I have already complained to Maro. I want to make sure you are okay.”

“Fine.”

There’s a pause, silence loaded with something Pecco can’t quite identify. “And Álex?”

Ah. “Fine as well. We both got checked over.” Pecco swallows. “I, ah, spoke to him. Or—he asked to speak to me, in private, so we did. I—I am still pissed off, but it was not deliberate. I know that now.”

Valentino hums again. “But you said it.”

So this is what he really called to talk about.

“I was pissed off. Martín—”

“I know,” Valentino says, and there’s something there, not quite the disappointment Pecco feared but something like it. “Be—just be careful, Pecco, yes? If you are going to start this, be ready for where it might take you.”

“I am not starting anything.”

Again, it’s, “I know.” Then, “I know it is hard when you are hurt and angry, and there are points slipping through your fingers. But think about what you are saying.”

“Yeah.” Pecco would be more annoyed if this wasn’t coming from experience.

“Ah, maybe you do not need my advice anymore—”

“Of course I do,” Pecco interrupts, chest fluttering at the mere idea of Valentino ever becoming superfluous to him.

“Get into it with Marc all you want. He is expecting this. The team are expecting this. He will give it back to you, and somehow, he will be ready to forgive.” Valentino pauses. “Do not make his brother part of it. That—that is where there was no coming back for us, truly.”

Pecco’s breath catches, because Vale sounds—unsettled. Sad, even. “I—”

“Do you understand?”

He does. “Fucking—the week before Misano, as well. It will be messy.”

“Not too messy. Not yet.” Still fixable, is what Vale doesn’t say, but they both know anyway. “But—you can handle it. You will do better than I did.”

Quietly, Pecco thinks there couldn’t have been many worse ways to handle it all. There are certainly better ones. He can’t remember when that thought first came to him: maybe when he’d won, that first time, Aragón of all places, the king of Marc’s castle, and Marc had been—disappointed, yes, but still there with a smile and a congratulatory word. Not what Pecco had been expecting, from everything Vale had said. Maybe Vale had been wrong.

Marc has done many things to Pecco since then, but that first doubt, the first fallacy of his god, was the most earth-shattering.

“I should speak to Marc—”

“Don’t make it about him.”

“I already have.” It’s like pulling a barbed thread out through his throat, admitting that, reminding himself what he said to the cameras and microphones when he was aching and exhausted and too hot with it all to think about the consequences. “They already have, because if it is me and Álex then it is you and him.”

The silence is long this time, presses in, a storm cloud rolling over before the heavens open and lightning shatters the sky. Pecco almost stutters out an apology, except Valentino must know, because he was the one who wanted to talk about it in the first place.

When Valentino sighs, it hisses in Pecco’s ear. “It will always be about us somehow, Pecco. You will have to hold it.”

And here is what Vale did not tell them when they vowed to carry his legacy, unmistakable yellow in their young faithful hands: it would always be entwined with the ivy-choke of Marc.

Us, Valentino still says, not me and him. If he has still not managed to free himself, what hope does Pecco have?

(He knows the answer. He never will. But he can hold it, can hold the vine-twisted history alongside the bright yellow heritage.)

There’s a lot he could say. He swallows it down, sits on it all. “Are you coming on Wednesday?”

“Of course.”

“See you then. Put the weekend behind us.”

“Get ready for Misano,” Vale agrees. “One of your favourites, and you have raced there already this year. Maybe you do not even need to train, hm?” A laugh, so Pecco knows he’s only joking. So Pecco knows Valentino believes in him. “Ah, they are calling for the plane. I will speak to you soon.”

Pecco doesn’t say so you still think he is forgiving. You still think he can forgive you. He doesn’t say he’ll be in a good mood today, if you called. He closes his eyes, says, “Safe flight. See you on Wednesday.”

[beemochi-art]

soooo...are megs and kilo okay with other people abusing their sparkling? I would be more afraid if I was starscream

No of course not! This is all Megs fault for not properly watching him. Megs assumed that his position meant no one would try anything with his sparkling. For the most part he was right. (Sure a lot cons don’t like kids, but small growls never hurt anyone. It’s normal for cons to growl.)

He’d repeatedly take Jb to the bridge and most loved him, excited for the new heir to the decepticon empire. Jb for the most part had freedom to explore with others keeping an eye on him. Megs ultimately got spoiled with everyone else watching him and wanting to babysit.

Kilo used to be the soul caretaker to Jb since in the beginning Megatron wasn’t actually comfortable with him being there. Jb used to get growled at.. a lot. But Megs lightened up and stared acting more like a father figure. And actually started to want to watch him. Even if he wasn’t that good at it. Cause literally his first time watching him Megs took him onto the bridge.

(Megs isn’t the best caretaker ☹️ he’s still learning. It’s kinda like this documentary about lions where the dads were doting and loving but the cubs were still starving to death cause the males can’t feed them. It’s like that. )

Starscream is incredibly stupid. And he is prone to pushing buttons, he knows the sparkling doesn’t talk and couldn’t tell. As more time passes he’s begun to realize he may have pushed it too far. He’s just hoping no one finds out. Megatron is acting more erratic and Stars anxiety is growing. Slipstream won’t tell anyone for her fathers sake, the last thing she wants to see is him get hurt again. Even if he deserves it.

At least Megs never lets Jb out of his sight now. He feels really guilty and assumed at first he just got stepped on. But Kilo thinks it was intentional and demands Megatron do something about it. Kilo doesn’t have proof… yet. Kilo knows that getting accidentally stepped on doesn’t result in shaking and clinging to his side when before Jb used to be pretty adventurous. I don’t think this will break Kilo trust with Megs, he’s angry at him. Megs is in the dog house rn.