#east peck

[lewisossokoh]

WHITE CLOTHES IN MUSIC VIDEOS PT.1

[tcmreads]

old hollywood men

[infernalburner]

Drama Teacher Accused of Bullying Disabled Students at CSAS @ NE HS

Oklahoma City, OK – Mrs. Lauren Peck-Weisenfels, the drama teacher at Classen School of Advanced Studies at North East High School, has come under scrutiny for allegations of bullying and discriminatory behavior towards autistic and physically disabled students. The claims have ignited concerns about the treatment of vulnerable students in the school’s drama department.

A Troubled Past

Four years ago, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels was a teacher at Classen School of Advanced Studies Middle School. During a virtual class in 2020, she allegedly expressed disdain for teaching autistic and special education students, stating, "I hate teaching autistic & special Ed students!" This remark, reportedly overheard by the mothers of two seventh-grade students, prompted complaints to the school administration.

Despite these allegations, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels was later transferred to the high school, where she continued to teach drama. Concerns about her behavior persisted as students from her middle school classes advanced to high school and found themselves once again under her instruction.

Current Allegations

This school year, a sophomore student who had previously encountered Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels in middle school was placed in her class due to limited elective options. According to the student and their mother, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels continued to exhibit unkind and discriminatory behavior. The student, who is physically disabled, was allegedly ridiculed for their inability to keep up with costume-making tasks and was marginalized within the class.

In February 2024, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels emailed the student's mother, stating her intention to fail the student for wearing headphones in class, even though the student was not being disruptive. The email hinted that Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels felt slighted by the student’s lack of engagement, which the mother attributes to previous verbal and emotional abuse.

The Role of Headphones for Autistic Students

Headphones are a critical tool for many autistic individuals, particularly teenagers, to manage sensory overload. Studies show that about 87% of autistic individuals experience sensory sensitivities. Headphones can help mitigate overwhelming sounds, enabling students to focus better and participate in classroom activities more comfortably.

Despite this, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels reportedly expressed a desire to fail the student for wearing headphones in class. This attitude reflects a lack of understanding and accommodation for the needs of autistic students, who often use such tools to navigate their environment effectively.

May Incident and Unreported Bullying

In May 2024, tensions escalated further when Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels threatened to fail the student over a makeup project, despite the student attending their grandmother's funeral. This incident, while serious, was not formally reported at the time.

Additionally, another student, who uses a cane due to a physical disability, has been subjected to bullying by Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels and her entourage of students. The bullying has occurred behind the student's back and included mockery of their use of a cane and their social media activities, particularly on Tumblr. These actions were not reported until the evening of May 17, 2024, when the student with headphones informed their mother about the incidents.

The May 17 Incident

On May 17, 2024, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels and a group of students allegedly taunted the aforementioned student in her office, calling them "lazy," "deaf," "ditzy," "slow," "stupid," and "a hindrance to the drama department." Believing the student couldn’t hear due to their headphones, the group reportedly yelled the student's name mockingly. The student, however, overheard everything but chose not to engage.

The same day, Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels reportedly threw a tantrum, slamming items around the classroom in an attempt to provoke a reaction from the student, who continued to ignore her.

Perpetuating Ableism and Discriminatory Rhetoric

Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels’ behavior is not only harmful to the targeted students but also perpetuates ableist and discriminatory rhetoric among her student entourage. By encouraging and participating in the mockery of disabled students, she is teaching her followers to normalize and perpetuate these harmful attitudes. According to psychological studies, teenagers are highly impressionable, and the behavior modeled by authority figures can significantly influence their beliefs and actions.

The Psychology of Living Vicariously Through Teenagers

Research indicates that some adults feel the need to live vicariously through teenagers, seeking approval and acting like them to fulfill unmet emotional needs or relive their own youth. This behavior can be particularly detrimental when exhibited by educators, as it blurs the boundaries between professional and personal interactions. Statistics show that about 30% of adults who exhibit this behavior struggle with identity issues and seek validation through younger individuals.

For teenagers, witnessing an adult, especially an educator, behave in such a manner can lead to confusion, loss of respect for authority, and the normalization of inappropriate behavior. This can contribute to a culture of bullying and exclusion, as students may mimic the adult's actions to gain favor or avoid becoming targets themselves.

The normalization of such discriminatory behavior can have lasting effects, contributing to a culture of intolerance and bullying. Studies indicate that witnessing or participating in bullying can lead to increased aggression, anxiety, and a distorted sense of empathy among youths. It is crucial to address these issues to prevent the spread of abusive behaviors and to promote a supportive and inclusive environment.

Parental Actions and School Response

Following these events, the student with the headphones relayed the incidents to their mother after school on May 17. The mother promptly contacted Kendall Stills with OKCPS via text message, though no response was received. That evening, the mother filed a formal TIPS report with Oklahoma City Public Schools (OKCPS), detailing the history of bullying and including screenshots as evidence. She also contacted the parents of the student with the cane, encouraging them to email Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels and file a formal TIPS report. The mother included the names of the students in Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels' entourage and mentioned her own student in the report to help corroborate the incidents.

The parents involved are currently awaiting a response from OKCPS. Given that next week marks the last few days of the school year, it is uncertain when or if a resolution will be reached. The allegations against Mrs. Peck-Weisenfels highlight broader issues of inclusivity and respect for disabled students within the educational system.

Broader Implications

The situation at Classen School of Advanced Studies raises important questions about the responsibility of educators to create a supportive and nondiscriminatory environment for all students, particularly those with disabilities. As the community awaits the school district’s response, the case underscores the need for vigilance and advocacy to protect the rights and well-being of vulnerable students.

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1916 – Birth of actor, Gregory Peck, in La Jolla, California.

Gregory Peck was born in La Jolla, California. One of the world’s most popular film stars from the 1940s to the 1960s, Peck continued to play major film roles until the late 1970s. Catherine Ashe, the paternal grandmother of Gregory Peck, who emigrated to the United States in the 19th century was a relative of the Kerry patriot, Thomas Ashe, who took part in the 1916 Rising and died while on…

[strixhaven]

everything possible ever happened in my dream last night

[acanthyme]

A Brassius + Hassel playlist i've been working on! Still might add some songs but the general sound won't change :]

(It ended up a lot more brassius + brassius LOVING centric than i wanted, but that's just what he deserves <3 still a decent bit of hassel loving perspective i think... but brassius being a tortured artist does show up a lot)

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I still get tripped out when I look in a pack of cigarettes and the label is some kind of elongated license plate telling me some fucked up story sometimes.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Howdy Honey I. can't get you off my mind

series masterlist masterlist

wordcount: 6,709

summary: After a tumultuous fall from your horse that leaves you with a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, you find solace in the strong arms and gentle care of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand whose rugged exterior hides a tender heart.

warnings: mentions of falling, fracture, eventual smut, slowburn, age-gap, some fluff, two stubborn people falling in love, angst, from both your and Joel's pov

notes: First of all thank you to all of you for supporting the masterlist, I am absolutely blown away! I appreciate the heck out of you all so very much! <3 <3 Second thank you sm to @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for screaming with me about all of this ily both <3 Third I wrote this after my own experiences falling off a horse and being carried by a hot cowboy at work. K I'm gonna go panic, love you all bye. gif is by @tomshiddles divider by @saradika-graphics

The sun is high and unforgiving, casting a golden hue over the sprawling acres of your family's ranch—a place where the West still feels wild and untamed. The ranch, nestled in a valley surrounded by rugged mountains, is a patchwork of green pastures, dotted with grazing cattle and horses. The main house, a sturdy two-story structure with a wraparound porch, stands proudly at the heart of the property, its whitewashed walls and red roof are like a beacon for the lost amidst the vast expanse of land. You can always find your way back home.

To the east lies the stables, a long, low building with enough room to house two dozen horses comfortably. Its wooden walls have weathered to a soft gray, and the scent of hay and horse is always present in the air. Just beyond the stables is the equipment barn, filled with tractors, balers, and all manner of tools necessary for maintaining the ranch. The sound of metal clanging against metal often echoes from within as ranch hands tend to repairs or prepare for the day's work. A little further out is the chicken coop, bustling with activity as hens peck at the ground and roosters crow their morning greetings.

On the southern end of the ranch, a series of fenced-in training pens are set up for breaking in new horses or for practicing roping skills. It's here that you often find the newly hired ranch hand, Joel Miller, expertly mending a section of split-rail fence or guiding a young colt through its paces with patience and skill honed over decades. 

You've grown up with the scent of hay and the sound of hooves on dirt, a life that's as much a part of you as the blood in your veins. Recently, your parents brought on a few new ranch hands, a decision driven not only by their advancing years and a growing wanderlust but also, you suspect, by a desire to ensure you're well looked after in their absence. It didn't seem to matter how many times you'd promised that you and [name] the very first and only other person hired to help around, could take care of the ranch -  they never let go of the fact you weren't five anymore. 

Today you find yourself working a little less hard because of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand that looks like he stepped straight out of a Western movie. You watch him from afar as you make your way to take your horse out, his muscles straining against his plaid shirt as he repairs a section of fencing. He moves with an easy grace despite his age and broad build. His salt-and-pepper hair peeks out from under his worn cowboy hat, and you can't help but feel a pull towards him, something beyond the usual respect for a seasoned hand.

The ranch is alive with activity as you prepare Daisy for her daily run. The horses in the nearby pasture lift their heads at your approach, their ears pricked with curiosity. Daisy nickers softly, her tail swishing in anticipation as you lead her out of her stall and toward the open pasture. As you trot along one of the well-worn trails, you pass by landmarks that tell stories of your family's history; there's an old rusted tractor from your grandfather's time, now half-buried in wildflowers; a grove where you used to play hide-and-seek with your siblings; and further on, an ancient stone marker placed by settlers who once claimed this land as their own. Each sight brings back memories that are as much a part of you as they are a part of this place. 

But today, these familiar sights are merely blurs in your peripheral vision as Daisy gallops across the landscape. The wind whips through your hair, and you feel a rush of adrenaline as the horse's muscles move powerfully beneath you. It's in these moments that you feel most at peace, in harmony with the natural world around you.

Suddenly, a sharp cry from Daisy breaks the rhythm of her gait. You pull sharply on the reins as a jackrabbit darts out from the underbrush, its sudden appearance startling her. In an instant, your peaceful ride turns to chaos. Daisy rears up, her eyes wide with fear, and you're thrown from the saddle, the world a blur of blue sky and golden earth. The impact is jarring, knocking the breath from your lungs as you hit the ground hard. Pain radiates from your side and arm. As you lie there, struggling to catch your breath, Daisy gallops away towards the safety of the stables, leaving you alone in a cloud of dust.

The sun beats down mercilessly upon you as waves of pain wash over your body. You try to move but find that even breathing is a challenge. You try to push yourself up, but a wave of nausea forces you back down. It's then that you hear the pounding of hooves approaching fast and boots hitting the ground. 

"Easy there, easy," a familiar voice drawls as strong hands gently roll you onto your back. Joel's face swims into view, his brow furrowed with concern. "Looks like ya had a bit of a tumble, darlin'. Can you tell me where it hurts?" His voice is deep and soothing, cutting through the haze of pain. You manage to point to your side, wincing as he carefully probes the area. "Just bruised, I reckon," he says after a moment, his touch is surprisingly gentle for such calloused hands. "Your arm too. We should get ya back to the house. Might have t'see the doctor."

Over my dead body, you think to yourself.

With surprising ease, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You can't help but notice the warmth radiating from his body. It's an intimacy that makes your breath hitch in your throat—a sensation that has nothing to do with your injuries.

"Gave me quite the scare there darlin," Joel remarks as he carries you towards his waiting horse. His tone is light but there's an undercurrent of something else—affection? worry? "What were you thinkin’ taking Daisy out alone after that storm last night? These trails can be treacherous."

You want to argue that you're capable and don't need help, that it was just a routine ride and something spooked Daisy but arguing takes energy—energy that's currently in short supply thanks to the pain radiating from your side and shooting through your arm. Instead you murmur a weak apology. "Didn't think it’d be a problem."

Joel chuckles softly. "Well, I reckon that's part of the adventure, ain't it? Never quite knowing what the day's gonna bring." He adjusts his hold on you slightly, his grip firm yet careful. "But next time, maybe wait for someone to come with you. Safety in numbers and all that."

As he settles you onto his horse, he keeps a steady hand on your back, “you okay darlin?” He asks, making sure you're secure before you nod and he swings up behind you as gently as he can. The closeness is overwhelming; his body is a solid wall of heat at your back, and you can feel the muscles in his thighs as they grip the horse's flanks. It's a strange mix of vulnerability and safety, being so close to this man who just (weeks/days?) ago was a little more than a stranger.

The ride back to the ranch is a blur of sensations—the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the scent of leather and sweat mingling with Joel's unique aroma of woodsmoke and something undeniably masculine. You find yourself leaning into him without thinking, seeking comfort in his strength.

"Almost there," Joel reassures you as the house comes into view. His breath is warm against your ear, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. "We'll get some ice on those bruises and take a look at you."

Once at the ranch house, he carries you inside and sets you down gently on the living room couch crouching beside you to remove your boots. His fingers brush against your skin accidentally as he works them off one by one—a touch that sends sparks racing along your nerves despite yourself and despite any rational thought about how much older he is than you. You quickly blink them away.

"Ice pack," he commands firmly but kindly before disappearing into the kitchen. You hear the clinking of ice being scooped from the freezer. 

As Joel returns from the kitchen, the air in the room shifts subtly. He kneels beside you on the couch, his movements deliberate and gentle. "This might be a bit cold at first," he warns, his voice carrying a hint of gruffness that hadn't been there before.

You nod, bracing yourself for the shock of cold. But when he lifts the hem of your shirt to expose your bruised side, the brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach sends an unexpected wave of heat coursing through you. It's a clinical touch, meant only to aid in your recovery, but the proximity of his hands to the curves of your body is not lost on you.

He places the makeshift ice pack against your side, the cold seeping your body. You can't help the sharp intake of breath as the icy chill envelops the tender area. Joel's eyes flick to yours, concern etched across his features.

"Sorry, darlin'," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I know it's uncomfortable, but it'll help with the swelling."

You give him a small, reassuring smile, trying to convey that you understand—that you appreciate his attentiveness. As he holds the ice pack in place, his other hand comes to rest on your hip, a steady presence that seems to anchor you amidst the discomfort.

The room is silent save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional crackle of ice as it begins to melt against your skin. You can feel the heat of Joel's palm through the fabric of your jeans, and you find yourself acutely aware of every point of contact between you.

After a few minutes, he slowly lifts the ice pack away, his eyes scanning your side with a practiced eye. "How does it feel now?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate within you.

"A bit better," you admit, the pain having dulled to a manageable ache.

He nods, his attention still focused on your injury. With a gentle touch that belies his rugged exterior, he traces the edge of the bruise with his fingers, his touch feather-light yet firm. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for his next move.

"You're gonna be sore for a few days," he says. "But I think you'll live."

As he withdraws his hand, you feel an odd sense of loss, as if the warmth of his touch had become a lifeline in the midst of your pain. You watch as he rises to his feet, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"Thank you, Joel," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel inadequate, but they're all you have to offer in this moment.

The corners of Joel's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he gives a nod, turning back towards the kitchen 

While he's gone, you take the opportunity to study him from afar as he walks through the open room to the kitchen. There's an air of quiet strength about him, a sense of resilience. You find yourself wondering about his past—where he came from, what brought him here to your family's ranch. But those questions will have to wait for another time; right now, just talking and moving is enough of a challenge without adding an interrogation into the mix.

Joel returns with a glass of water and some painkillers. "Here," he says gently, helping you sit up enough to swallow the pills before lying back down against the cushions with a wince at the sharp pain in your side again.

“Rest up now," Joel instructs. “I'll take care of things around here for the rest of the day. You just focus on healin.”

You drift in and out of sleep on the couch and everytime you drift out you see Joel lingering around keeping watch over you like some kind old west guardian angel dressed in denim. 

As the day wanes and the shadows grow long across the hardwood floors, you stir from your uneasy slumber. The pain in your side is a dull roar now, thanks to the medication Joel provided. You blink slowly, your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the living room. The ranch is quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling and the distant sound of Joel's voice as he talks to one of the horses in the stable.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him—his rugged features, his gentle touch, and those eyes that seem to see right through you. It's a dangerous path your thoughts are taking, but you can't help it. There's something about Joel that draws you in, despite the years between you.

The front door opens with a soft squeak, and Joel steps inside, his boots leaving a trail of dust on the floorboards. He looks weary but satisfied, his shirt damp with sweat from a hard day's work. His gaze finds you instantly, and a warm smile spreads across his face.

"You're awake," he observes needlessly as he approaches. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you admit with a small grimace as you try to sit up straighter on the couch. "But better than before." You didn't want to admit how bad your arm was actually killing you.

Joel nods in approval before disappearing into the kitchen again—a man of few words but many actions. He returns a bit later with a steaming mug in hand and offers it to you carefully so as not to spill any on your lap. 

"Chamomile tea," he explains gruffly when he sees your questioning look at what seems like an unusual choice for someone like him, someone who seems more accustomed to strong black coffee than herbal infusions. "It'll help with any lingering pain and help ya sleep." 

You take a tentative sip; making sure to grab the cup with your good hand it's sweetened just how you like it—a small detail that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly because it means he's been paying attention even when he didn’t have to be.  The warmth seeps into your hands as much as into your insides making everything feel less daunting all at once despite your injuries.

The evening settles in, casting a cozy glow over the living room. The ranch is quiet, the animals bedded down for the night, and the chores all done. Joel lingers, his presence a comforting constant in the otherwise empty house. He settles into the armchair across from you, the lines of his face softened by the dim light.

"You should eat somethin’," he suggests, already rising from his chair. "I'll fix ya up a plate."

Before you can protest, he's back in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes and the smell of food wafting through the air. You can't help but smile at his insistence. It's been a long time since anyone has taken care of you like this.

Joel returns with a tray balanced in one hand—a simple meal of soup and a sandwich, cut into manageable pieces. He sets it down on the coffee table, pulling it closer to you. "Eat up," he urges, his tone gentle but firm. "You need to keep your strength up."

As you eat, he watches you, his gaze never straying far. It's an odd sensation, being the focus of such intense attention, but you find yourself not minding it. There's a sense of security in his watchfulness, a feeling that you're not alone in this big house.

When you've finished eating, Joel takes the tray away, leaving you to sip your tea in peace. The painkillers are starting to wear off, and as you move to adjust your position on the couch, a sharp, stabbing pain shoots through your arm, causing you to yelp in surprise and discomfort.

Joel, who has been quietly cleaning up the remnants of dinner in the kitchen, is at your side in an instant. "What is it?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Did you move wrong?"

"It's my arm," you admit through gritted teeth, cradling the injured limb with your other hand. "I think I might have aggravated it."

With a nod, Joel gently takes your arm in his hands, his touch firm yet gentle. He probes the area with practiced ease, watching your face for any signs of pain. When he reaches a particular spot, you can't help but flinch, a hiss escaping your lips. “Shh, I know. Easy, easy," he soothes you like a wounded animal, before releasing your arm. His brow is furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't like the look of this. Could be broken, or at least badly sprained. We need to get you to a doctor first thing in the mornin’."

"I'm sure it's fine, Joel," you argue weakly, not wanting to cause a fuss. "It's probably just a bad bruise. I'll be okay after a good night's sleep."

But Joel is having none of it. "No, it ain't fine," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You could be doin’ more damage by not getting it checked out. I'll drive you to the clinic myself in the morning. This ain’t up for debate."

You know that look on his face—it's the same one he wears when he's dealing with a stubborn horse or a difficult piece of machinery. There's no point in trying to dissuade him when he's made up his mind. And truthfully, the idea of having a professional assess your injuries is somewhat of a relief.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, the fight draining out of you. "I'll go to the doctor in the morning."

Joel's expression softens, and he gives your good shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That's the smart choice, darlin'. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

As he moves away to finish tidying up the kitchen, you find yourself watching him, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling within you. Despite the pain and the uncertainty of your injuries, you can't help but feel a sense of safety and comfort with Joel around. You're taken from your thoughts when Joel comes back into the living room. "I should be gettin’ home," Joel says after a while, his voice low and reluctant. "But I'll be back first thing to check on you."

You nod, trying to hide your disappointment. The house feels too big, too empty to be without him in it. "I'll be okay, Joel," you assure him, trying not to worry him, though the words taste like a stale cigarette on your tongue. "Thank you for everything."

He gives you a long, searching look before nodding slowly. "Alright then," he says, rising from his chair. "You remember what I said about not pushin’ yourself too hard?"

"Yes," you reply with a small smile. "Rest and recovery."

"That's right," he affirms, pulling on his jacket. "And don't hesitate to call me if you need anything—no matter the time."

You watch as he heads for the door, his silhouette framed by the night outside. Just before he steps out into the darkness, he turns back to you, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the living room. "Goodnight darlin," he says, his voice carrying a hint of something unspoken.

"Goodnight, Joel," you whisper back, the words hanging in the air long after he's gone.

The house is silent once more, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner. You finish your tea and carefully set the mug aside, the warmth of it still lingering on your lips. With a sigh, you settle back against the cushions, the pain in your side a dull reminder of the day's events.

As the night deepens, you find yourself reaching for your phone, your fingers typing out a message before you can second-guess yourself.

Hey. Just wanted to say thank you again for today. I'm okay, just wanted to say thanks. Hope you got home safe.

What you really meant was, “please come back I'm fucking scared being alone.”

You hit send before you can change your mind, the message disappearing into the ether. Minutes tick by with no response, and you chide yourself for expecting otherwise. Joel is probably already asleep, or at least on his way to getting some much-needed rest after the day he's had. But just as you're about to set your phone aside and try to get some sleep yourself, it vibrates in your hand, startling you. A notification lights up the screen—a new message from Joel.

Of course. That's what I'm here for. Got home just fine. How are the ribs? Any better with the meds?

You can't help but smile at the concern in his words, the gruff affection that seems to come so naturally to him. You reply, telling him about the tea and the meal, about how much better you feel with him looking out for you.

His response is quick, as if he's been waiting by his phone for your message. 

Glad to hear it. And remember, there's no rush to get back in the saddle if you're not feeling up to it. Everything will still be here when you're ready. Your health is the priority now. If there's anything I can do for you, just holler. I've got your chores covered. Take care of yourself and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything or just want to talk about what happened.

You read his words over and over, each one a balm to the lingering ache in your side—and to the unexpected emptiness in your heart. With a contented sigh, you finally set your phone aside and close your eyes, the sound of the ranch at night lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, you're awakened by the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock—it's early, barely past dawn. With some effort, you manage to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the couch, wincing at the stiffness in your muscles.

The front door opens, and Joel steps inside, his hands full of a large wicker basket. "Brought you some things," he announces, setting the basket down on the coffee table. Inside, you find an assortment of items—fresh fruit, a few paperback novels, a soft, hand-knitted blanket, and a small potted plant. "I figured you could use some company," he says, gesturing to the plant. "And the books are from my daughter's collection. She loves a good western—thought you might enjoy them."

The revelation that Joel has a daughter is something that catches you off guard, a piece of him that he kept carefully tucked away, a piece you want to know more about. 

You're touched by the thoughtfulness of his gifts, each one carefully chosen to bring you comfort during your recovery. "Joel, this is... it's too much," you protest half-heartedly, even as you reach out to run your fingers over the soft wool of the blanket.

"Nonsense, darlin’," he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

The way he calls you darlin’ brings heat to your cheeks, and you quickly look away, busying yourself with arranging the items in the basket. When you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze again, you find him watching you with a soft smile on his face and you assume he's forgotten about the doctor until he speaks up.

“Alright let's go.” Joel's stands up and holds a hand out to you. 

You look up at him and chuckle “It's fine Joel. It barely even hurts.”

The argument is brief but intense, with you stubbornly insisting that a trip to the clinic is unnecessary despite the pain in your arm. Joel, however, is just as adamant, his concern for your well-being overriding any protests you might have.

"I ain't gonna stand by and watch you suffer when there's somethin’ that can be done about it," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

You cross your arms defiantly, wincing as the movement sends a jolt of pain through your injured wrist. "And what's the hard way?" you challenge him, though there's a hint of amusement in your voice.

Without warning, Joel strides toward you, scooping you up into his arms before you can react. You let out a startled yelp as he hoists you over his shoulder with surprising ease, his strong hands holding you securely in place.

"Hey! Put me down!" You pound on his back with your good hand, your cheeks hot with embarrassment and indignation. But beneath the surface, there's an undeniable thrill at being so close to him—at feeling the muscles in his shoulders and back move beneath his shirt as he carries you effortlessly toward the front door.

"As soon as we get to the truck," he replies calmly, unfazed by your struggles. "We're going to see Dr. Simmons whether you like it or not."

You continue to squirm and protest as he carries you across the yard to where his truck is parked. The other ranch hands look on with barely concealed grins but wisely choose to keep their comments to themselves. They know better than to get between Joel Miller and something he's set his mind to.

With a gentleness that belies his gruff exterior, Joel sets you down on the passenger seat of the truck and buckles your seatbelt for you before closing the door and heading around to the driver's side. 

Joel.

He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he navigates the familiar dirt roads that lead away from the ranch. He can see you out of the corner of his eye, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the passing landscape. A vision of stubborn beauty, your jaw set in a way that makes his heart do things it hadn't done in years. He can feel the tension radiating off you—a mix of pain and frustration at being manhandled against your will. He can't blame you for being upset. If someone had picked him up and carried him off like a sack of feed, he'd be mad too. But when he saw you lying there in the dirt, hurt and vulnerable, something inside him shifted. It awakened a protective instinct that he thought had died along with Sarah.

Damn it, Joel, he chides himself. She's young enough to be your daughter. But the thought feels hollow, a weak defense against the pull he feels toward you. You’re strong, fiercely independent, and yet, there’s a vulnerability to you that calls to something deep within him, the need to care for someone - for you. He glances over at you again, taking in the delicate curve of your jaw, and the way your hair falls in waves around your shoulders, taking in the way the morning light plays across your features. You’re a sight to behold, all fire and spirit wrapped up in a package that is far too tempting for his peace of mind. Every time he looks at you, all logic seems to fly out the window. There's an undeniable connection between you, a spark that ignites whenever you're near each other. It's terrifying and exhilarating, you make him feel young again. 

He risks another glance in your direction, and his heart skips a beat when he finds you watching him with those big doe eyes of yours. Joel swallows hard, forcing himself to look away before his thoughts can wander any further down that dangerous path. He needs to focus on getting through this day without letting his guard down completely.

The clinic is just up ahead now, its whitewashed walls gleaming in the early morning sun. He pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, turning to face you with a stern expression that belies the turmoil he feels inside.

"Ready?" he asks, though it's clear from his tone that it's more of a statement than a question. He's not going to let you talk your way out of this one—not when your health is at stake.

You nod reluctantly, your gaze fixed on the clinic entrance. You're nervous; he can see it in the way your fingers worry at the hem of your shirt, in the slight tremble of your chin. He wants to reach out and wrap you in his arms, to offer some semblance of comfort, but he holds back. It wouldn't be appropriate—not here, not now. Instead, he climbs out of the truck and comes around to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you down onto solid ground.

The interior of the clinic is cool and sterile-smelling—a stark contrast to the fresh air and open spaces of the ranch. Joel checks you in at the reception desk while you sink into one of the waiting room chairs, wincing as even that small movement sends a twinge of pain through your side and arm.  Joel takes a seat beside you in the waiting room, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. He can feel the tension emanating from you, a coiled spring ready to leap to action at the slightest provocation. He knows that look—it's the same one he's seen on injured animals over the years, a mix of fear and defiance. It tugs at something deep within him, a primal urge to protect those he cares about most.

He wants to say something to ease your discomfort, but words seem inadequate in the face of your pain. Instead, he reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering just above your knee before he gives in to the impulse and rests it there gently—a silent promise that he's not going anywhere.

You startle at his touch, your gaze flicking to his face in surprise. But as you meet his eyes, you see nothing but sincerity and concern reflected back at you. Slowly, deliberately, you place your own hand over his.

The waiting room is filled with the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of magazines being flipped through by other patients. Joel's thumb traces idle patterns on your leg as you sit there together in silence.

"Joel," you say finally, breaking the silence that has settled between you. Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the ambient noise like a knife. "I want to thank you - for everything."

He shakes his head dismissively, though there's a warmth in his eyes that wasn't there before. "No need for thanks," he replies gruffly. "I did what anyone else woulda done."

"No," you insist firmly, turning in your seat so that you're facing him fully now—ignoring the twinge of pain it elicits from your injuries. "Joel," you say again, your voice steady despite the pain you're clearly in. "I mean it. You've been... you've done so much for me. More than I could have asked for."

He opens his mouth to respond, to downplay his role in your care, but the words die on his lips as the nurse appears in the doorway, clipboard in hand. She calls out your name, scanning the room until her eyes land on the two of you.

Reluctantly, Joel withdraws his hand from your knee, the connection between you severed as you rise to follow the nurse. He stands as well, intending to accompany you, but the nurse shakes her head. "Just the patient for now, please," she says with a polite but firm smile.

You shoot him a reassuring look over your shoulder as you follow the nurse down the hallway, leaving Joel alone with his thoughts. He sinks back into his chair, his hands clasped tightly between his knees again as he waits for you to return.

The minutes tick by slowly, each second stretching into an eternity. Joel's mind races with worry and concern. He knows the ranch like the back of his hand, can handle any crisis that comes his way—but this is different. This is about you, and the thought of you in pain, of you being afraid, is more than he can bear.

He can't shake the image of you lying in the dust after being thrown from Daisy, the fear in your eyes when you realized you couldn't get up on your own. It had been years since he'd felt that kind of raw terror, the kind that gripped your heart and squeezed until you couldn't breathe. But in that moment, with you hurt and helpless, it all came flooding back. Joel had always prided himself on his strength, both physical and emotional. He'd had to be strong after Sarah passed, but with you, he felt something shift inside him—a crack in the armor he'd spent years building up around his heart. He cared about you, more than he should. It was a truth he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried. You were young, vibrant, full of potential and promise. And he, well, he was just an old cowboy with more yesterdays than tomorrows. But when he looked at you, when he saw the fire in your eyes, he felt alive in a way he hadn't in years.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears your name called again. He looks up to see the nurse beckoning him forward with a gentle smile.

"You can come back now," she says, her voice soft and reassuring. "She's asking for you."

Joel's heart skips a beat at her words. He rises quickly, his boots thudding against the linoleum floor as he follows the nurse through the maze of hallways to the examination room where you're waiting. His mind races with possibilities—none of them good. 

Why would they need me if everything was fine? Had something happened while you were back there? Was the injury worse than they initially thought?

The door to the examination room creaks open, and Joel steps inside, his eyes immediately going to you. You're sitting on the edge of the examination table, your face pale but composed. The relief that washes over him at seeing you unharmed is palpable; it leaves him momentarily lightheaded as he crosses the room to your side.

"What's goin on?" he asks urgently, his gaze flicking between you and the doctor who is standing nearby with a clipboard in hand. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Simmons gives him a reassuring nod before turning his attention back to you. "I was just explaining to your friend here that it looks like she's got some bruised ribs and a fracture in her wrist," he says matter-of-factly as he jots something down on his clipboard. "We'll need to keep an eye on those ribs—make sure there's no internal bleeding or complications—but I think she'll be just fine with some rest and proper care.We gave her some pain medication before the x-ray. It may make her tired so she will need to be watched. No driving, etc. And she will need to come back in three weeks from now to get an updated x-ray of her wrist."

Joel lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave crashing against jagged rocks. He reaches out instinctively, taking your good hand in his own as he listens intently while Dr. Simmons goes over your care instructions.

Once the doctor finishes his instructions and hands over the prescription, Joel helps you down from the examination table, his hand at the small of your back providing a steady, reassuring presence. "Let's get your meds and then getcha home," he says softly, guiding you out of the clinic and back to his truck.

The drive to the pharmacy is quiet, the air between you thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Joel keeps stealing glances at you, noting the way you're cradling your injured wrist against your chest, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly when the truck hits a bump in the road. He wants to say something, to offer some words of comfort, but he's never been good with this sort of thing. He's a man of action, not words.

At the pharmacy, Joel takes charge, handling the paperwork and payment while you sit quietly on a nearby bench. He can see the exhaustion etched into your features, the way your eyelids are starting to droop. He knows you're running on fumes, and the pain medication will likely knock you out soon.

He heads back to the ranch, the truck's engine humming softly beneath the weight of the silence that stretches between you. You're fading fast, the medication they gave you at the doctor taking its toll. He can see you struggling to keep your eyes open, your body swaying slightly with each turn of the vehicle.

Once he reaches the ranch house, he parks as close to the front door as possible and hurries around to your side of the truck. You're already half-asleep by the time he opens your door, your eyelids fluttering as you fight to stay awake. "Easy now," Joel murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt and scooping you into his arms with a tenderness that surprises even himself. You let out a soft sigh as he carries you into the house, your head lolling against his chest. The trust you place in him is both humbling and terrifying and the sweet little noises coming from your mouth don't make any of this easier. 

He settles you onto the couch, propping pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. You smile sleepily up at you, a smile that sends a jolt straight to his heart and many other places. "Stay with me?" You ask quietly. 

How could he possibly say no?

Joel nods, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “‘course darlin, just gonna make you somethin to eat real quick.” Joel heads into the kitchen to prepare something for you to eat. An Eggo waffle seems like a safe bet—simple and comforting in its familiarity. He pops one into the toaster and waits impatiently for it to brown, his thoughts consumed by the woman lying on the couch.

Joel returns to the living room, the scent of warm waffles wafting through the air. He sets the plate down on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and the bottle of pain medication the pharmacist had given him. "Here you go, darlin'," he says softly, offering you a small smile. "Eat up, and then we'll get you settled in with a movie or somethin."

You nod, managing a weak smile in return as you reach for the waffle with your good hand. The simple act of eating seems to revive you somewhat, though Joel can tell you're still in a considerable amount of pain. He watches as you take a tentative bite, followed by a sip of water to wash it down.

"Thank you," you murmur between bites, your eyes meeting his in a silent exchange of gratitude and concern.

Joel nods, his throat tightening unexpectedly at the sincerity in your voice. "Anything for you," he replies gruffly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. He quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. "What do ya feel like watchin’? There's some old western tapes layin around or we could find somethin else.”

“Hmmm” You think about it for a moment before responding with a slight shrug of your shoulders—a movement that causes you to wince slightly, “I'm not picky. Whatever you want cowboy.” 

If only I could tell ya what I want darlin’

Taglist: @mermaidgirl30 @maried01

[canthelpit0]

Hair pulling / spanking

[A Kinktober special] (except it’s canceled)

Pairing: cocky!chris x reader

Wordcount: 3.1k +

Summary: nothing just 5 times Chris pulled your hair or hit your butt

Warnings: smut, fluff, p in v, spanking & hair pulling, assguy!chris, jealous!chris

A/n: back to writing. Well this is an old draft. But I’m not gonna do kinktober so, might as well upload it now..

01.

The first time you ever met Chris was at an influencer party. You were originally from the east coast too, and you bonded over that.

Both of you were sober, Chris because he didn’t drink, and you, because you were the designated driver.

You talked for a while just lounging in the kitchen the music of the party being drowned out.

You’re an influencer too, so you two just talked, until the innocent conversation turned flirty.

And before you knew it you were upstairs at the house party in some random guest bedroom, your ass up in the air while Chris pounds into you.

You press your thighs harshly together. Your arms draped in front of you. You arch your back every time he recoils only to come back and thrust harder.

You feel your cunt ache and all you can think to do is moan Chris’ name into the pillow that your face is buried in.

You hear another loud slap echo through the room, until your brain registers that that wasn’t skin clapping, but rather Chris spanking you. Not even spanking at this point, he was just blatantly hitting it.

Your mouth falls open then the sting starts to register through your extreme arousal.

“You like that?” You hear his gruff low voice speak again. Your brain is having a hard time catching up with his words. Most of his whispered praises and insult were just background noise to you since it was hard to focus.

“Chris- Chris god-“ you babble out his name trying to communicate that you are close but the relentless speed of his hips slapping into yours makes you weak.

“Already close huh?” He huffs his words coming out harsh due to the harsh breaths he takes in.

It’s taking great effort for him to keep up this brutal pace.

“Don’t fucking cum.” Chris says harshly. You feel another slap on your ass again.

The spanking had been fine at first, it wasn’t too hard and he’d soothe the sting, but now he was not even caring.

And at this point you’re sure that if the music from the house party downstairs wasn’t blaring music loudly the slap of his hand on your ass would echo through the entirety of this huge house.

You keep your arm spread out over your head, your face staying in the pillow.

You feel Chris’ hand on your hips tighten even more. And at this point you’re almost sure that he is purposefully tying to leave bruises.

Suddenly right when you’re close, you feel Chris slow down. When he hears my protesting whine he actually chuckles.

You feel Chris’ hands travel up from your ass, to your arched back, to your neck. And suddenly you feel Chris pull your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail.

You’d been heating up from the inside, and the fact that he quite literally, accidentally, edged you, just added into the feeling of the heat in this room. Your body felt like it was on fire.

Some of your hair hand been, slightly, sticking to your skin. He pulls them all away tho. Your mouth is dry from the amount of times you’ve moaned and screamed tonight.

“Careful ‘aight.” He mumbles you feel Chris leans over my back. One of his hands goes around your neck as he pulls you up so you’re cropped up by your arms.

Chris gives you a quick peck on the check as you’re back in doggy.

He starts to thrust again his hand around your neck going back to your hip. Your arms felt like jellos and really the only thing holding you up is Chris pulling you by your hair.

when he starts to pick up pace again, you Immediately feel the knot in your stomach tie again.

“Oh my god-“ you moan out loudly. Now, not having anything to muffle your noises.

You feel Chris tug harder on your hair and speed up. Suddenly you feel a slap again. It’s loud and echos through the room. It tingles , but in this moment it only serves to intensify your pleasure.

“You close hm?” Chris taunts, his voice low and rough.

You only moan in response. But Chris doesn’t like that. You feel another slap to your ass almost sending you over the edge.

“Go on,” he tugs on your hair harder and his grip on your hips becomes incredibly harder as he holds you in place. “Come for me.” He breathes out.

And as soon as you get the green light that’s just what you do.

Though Chris’ harsh movements into your core don’t stop. His thrust become erratic and your body practically shakes.

The only thing holding you from face planting into the pillow, is Chris pulling you up by your hair.

Chris gives you a few last thrusts letting out strings of curses and groans. He fills you up, not bothering to pull out.

02.

After that first time you two hooked up he’d given you his number, wich is something he usually doesn’t do.

And, while yes, you two did hook up, before that you had a conversation, and Chris thought you are pretty funny. He wasn’t trying to get into your pants in the first place, it just kinda happened.

You two started to hang out the week after. Going out on dinner ‘dates’ except it wasn’t a date.

A few weeks later he finally invited you over and you met his brothers. You knew that he is a triplet and you’d seen clips of their YouTube videos before, so you knew their names and how to tell them apart.

Well not perfectly, but good enough.

Chris and you still casually hooked up once in a while, often, but you were quickly becoming friends. Close friends at that, and not just because you two fuck.

You were now on the couch in Chris’ house. Chris had been to your apartment before, but today you were at his place.

You sit there, Chris’ arm wrapped around your shoulder keeping you snuggled into his side.

You’re watching a movie not doing anything. Matt is fumbling around the kitchen searching for a snack, and Nick was nowhere in sight.

His brothers knew that you two were hooking up, but they’d never say anything about it, because that would just be weird.

You stay focused on the movie, until you feel Chris’ arm move. His hand retracts until it comes back. He slides his hand, under your hair, over your neck, and grabs the side of your neck.

You don’t know why but you’ve always had a very sensitive neck. So the slight brush of his fingers sends a shiver down your spine.

You close your eyes briefly before you feel Chris’ hand start to trail up your neck to tangle in your hair.

You lick your lips trying to stay focused on the movie. You halfheartedly watch until you feel Chris harshly pull on your hair.

You let out a low whine at the impact letting him pull your head back. Your eyes close momentarily and you hear Chris’ chuckle from next to yourself.

“Sorry” he mumbles his grip loosening. Chris lets go of your hair and goes to gently rub your scalp.

“Couldn’t resist” he explains his tone light and airy.

You finally turn your head to look over at him. “You’re good” you shrug.

Chris breaks out into a goofy grin. His hand finds its way back to the nape of your neck again. He pulls you into him, crashing his lips on yours. He laughs into the kiss causing you to giggle too.

“How sweet.” You hear Matt’s flat, sarcastic voice.

It wasn’t like Chris was hiding you. Quite contrary Chris didn’t care if his brothers heard you fucking. Sure you weren’t official but it wasn’t like he was going out of his way to never kiss you.

You and Chris pull apart looking over at Matt who is walking back to his room.

You look back at each other and break out into another fit of giggles.

After your laughter dies down he presses your foreheads together. You wordlessly put your hand on his mouth to wipe away the lipgloss that had gotten on his lips.

Chris chuckles. He grabs your wrist and turns your hand over and gives it a sweet kiss. All gentle and cute.

You giggle in response.

Chris always said he isn’t the type to be all sappy and lovey doevey. But with you that seemed to not be true.

03.

Months have passed since the first time you’d met Chris, and the triplets.

You were over at their house frequently, and Chris was over at yours often as well.

You’d been seen around together, and rumors were brewing, people thought you were dating. Tho you hadn’t been seen together officially. You haven’t collabed with them.

You started to befriend Nick more, just hanging out with him sometimes and talking about everything and anything.

While with Matt you were civil. You liked him, he’s a nice guy, but Chris seemed to get really possessive around Matt.

Sure you think Matt is hot, only because Chris is too. But you weren’t attracted to Matt whatsoever.

You were in the kitchen all three of you baking together. Well mainly you because none of the boys really knew what they were doing.

You were having a random conversation with Matt about the cookies you were making. Matt seemed really excited to make them.

Nick who had given up at this point was just standing in the corner with Chris. Him sipping in his Dr Pepper and Chris on his Pepsi.

You lean over, closer to Matt, to point out something while you explain.

Chris is not jealous per se, you’re not his, but he doesn’t like Matt’s excitement. Despite knowing he’s just excited for the cookies

Chris huffs. He goes to place the Pepsi on the counter looking mildly pissed off.

Suddenly you feel Chris’ leave a light slap on your ass. You turn around mildly offended. You don’t even know when he had come up to you.

Before you can complain or say anything really, his hand goes to cup your face. Suddenly you feel Chris crash his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss.

You sigh into the kiss, only mildly surprised by his possessiveness.

You pull away and turn around trying to get back to what you were doing. Tho Chris just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him.

“Chris?” You ask flatly. At this point you don’t even know what he is on.

“Hm?”

You don’t reply. You feel Chris pull you to the side further and at this point he’s standing between you and Matt.

Matt gives him a raised eyebrow and attitude. As much as you weren’t attracted to Matt, he isn’t attracted to you at all. Him and Chris have drastically different types.

“Dude, chill out” he huffs continuing to stir the cookie dough. “She’s all yours.”

And despite not dating, his brothers understood that he was into you, and neither were going to try to steal you from him.

04.

By this point it was fairly clear that Chris loves your hair. He’d always be touching it, rubbing his fingers through it, watching the way it moves and bounces when you walk. But especially during sex.

When he was hitting it from the back he’d always be pulling at it. And when it was in missionary he’d grab your hair by the roots and pull your upper body up.

What he also loves is your ass, and the way it bounces slightly when you walk. He’d hit it during sex just to watch it move. He’d demand that you work yourself back on him, just so he could see your ass work.

You’d been laying in your bed sideways, trying to fall asleep. Until you felt Chris’ arm wrap around you and pull you closer.

You hum in question waiting Chris to tell you what he is planning to do.

“Can I please fuck you ma?” He says sweetly. Chris’ tone of voice is light, like he wasn’t just asking to fuck.

“Mhm” you hun half sleepily. You sit up slightly to pull your sleep shorts off. You don’t bother with the matching top tho.

Chris pulls his own sweatpants and boxers off, not bothering with the wife beater he has on.

You both lay back down. You had your back facing Chris while he was turned to you. Suddenly you feel Chris’ hand start to trail up your side, reaching your bare hips.

You use his other arm as a pillow. You feel him push your thong aside to tease your wetness. Chris briefly fingers fucks you just to make sure you’d be fine with his size.

You let out light whines and soft moans while he keeps going. You feel his fingers retract and the head of his dick press at your entrance.

Despite having fucked so many times you still feel your mouth water, knowing his size would stretch you so deliciously.

You feel him gently push in. The arm you were using as a pillow stays right where it is while his, now, free arm wraps around your waist pushing down on your lower stomach pulls you further into him.

You whine when he completely bottoms out in you.

Chris doesn’t move for a moment just savoring the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his aching dick.

“Fuck you’re so-” he sighs loudly. Then you feel Chris thrust into you softly, but lazily.

His cock was achingly hard, and your pussy so tight and warm. It was almost like he wasn’t even trying to get off, but rather be close to you.

You close your eyes when Chris’ thick cock starts to easily glide in and out of you.

“Chris?” You suddenly gain the confidence to ask. You hear him reply with a hum, his face being buried in the crook of your neck from behind.

“I love it when we fuck, you know..” you mumble. You feel too embarrassed to say it any louder, but you really do. He feels your cunt clamp on him harder as you say that.

“I love it too” he mumbles in response. You’re close in every sense of the word. His arm on your stomach keeping you close and only adding to the pleasure.

You feel his slow and sensual thrust. Chris was usually the type to fuck you hard and fast, but in this moment he himself was tired.

You enjoy the slow sensual thrusts as much as you do the fast ones.

“I love you know..” he says slowly. He says it like he wasn’t hearing his own words and just said what came to mind.

Your hearts starts to beat hard and your breath catches in your lungs. You pause. Did he mean that in a friendly way or…

“Not like that-“ Chris quickly backtracks. His own voice sounded shocked at his own words.

You relax more into him. You can’t tell if he’s lying and what he really meant, but you don’t wanna look into it.

Chris lets out a breath just like you had previously. He holds you close while you rock your hips against him.

His hand continues to trail over your side, until finally reaching your hair. He runs his fingers through it gently before pulling it to the side so it’s not in his face.

05.

At first, when you two met, you used to hook up quite frequently. Multiple times a week even.

But the more you got to know him, and especially after meeting his brothers and becoming friends with them too, it was less frequent.

And he got more passionate. Instead of being purely rough and fast, you’d have soft morning sex, or passionate sex in the middle of the night.

You’d kiss all the time, whether it be innocent or not. Whenever he kissed you, his hands would go on your ass.

Chris isn’t ashamed of you. He’d kiss you in front of his brother and his friends. And when you finally did a collab with the triplets he kissed you multiple times through the corse of the video. All things you’d edited out later on.

By now you’ve known them for almost a year, and despite him not being ashamed of you all you wanted was to be able to call Chris yours.

Chris was at your place once again. You were walking a round your room, not really to clean your room or anything.

There was no reason for you to be pacing around your room, it’s just something you did when you had a lot on your mind.

You’d pace your room while talking to yourself to get your thoughts out.

You’d practically forgotten that Chris was even there. He was just quietly lying on your bed. He’d been on his phone, until he gave that up to watch you pace around.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror looking mildly stressed out. You recently had a lot on your mind that you weren’t talking about.

Chris got up ever so quietly. He went over to you, his phone long forgotten on the bed. His arms snake around your waist as he looks at you.

He looks at the way your hands are on your face and your cheeks dramatically puffed up.

“What’s wrong ma? Talk to me.” He whispers lowly. The way his chin is propped up on your shoulder and the way he’s whispering sends shivers down your spine.

“It’s just-“ you huff trying to collect your thoughts but it was like your brain was mush.

“I love you-” You blurt out. it’s sudden. It’s so simple, yet the meaning behind it so heavy. There are so many implications and thoughts behind it.

But all your worries and thoughts, all boil down to the same thing- love.

You hear Chris take in a sharp breath. Your eyes switch from your own face to Chris’ face through the mirror.

“You do?” He asks so softly it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment. As if he’s praying that this isn’t a cruel joke

You simply lick your lips and slight bite your bottom lip.

“I love you too.” You hear and suddenly you’re breathing again, and breathing fast.

You feel Chris quickly turn you around and press his lips on yours quickly. You close your eyes for a moment trying to pull yourself together.

Chris doesn’t use tongue in the kiss. It’s a sweet kiss, barely any lust behind it just pure love and adoration.

Chris pulls away. His one hand wrapped around your waist the other grabbing your ass.

“Can you be my girlfriend?” You hear him ask. You tilt your head back to stare up at him. You love those pale blue eyes. Your eyes quickly scan all of his features before settling back on his eyes.

“I would love to be.” You breathe out, all the pent up emotion from the months of hooking up rushing over you like a floods.

-Kinktober Masterlist-

Masterlist

(A/N: this was finished and edited on 17th may, I have not re read it since the first time I did all the editing and stuff. I don’t really watch the triplets anymore, so I wanted to get this out of my drafts)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilolo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog , @jetaimevous , @imwetforyourmom , @yoongslvr69 , @ilovethesturnstriplets

[servingrobin]

more one piece pls!! angsty fluff pls 🥹 maybe one where reader almost dies and how the boys were literally having a breakdown (or rage fit, whatever fits their character lol) thank you in advance if you do this one 🥹🫶🏽

Sooo not sure what happened here but it seemed to have turned into a nice angsty watching-you-get hurt drabble for my boys.

I think I might turn this into two parts - with the fluff coming out next?

Zoro, luffy, Sanji

Warnings: blood, injury, angst

ZORO

Everything was going well so far, all things considering. A ship had sailed far too close to the sunny, some idiots thinking they could ransack a pirate ship for some quick berry. They’d planked across and immediately started swinging, no pause for even an offer of obedience (not that they would’ve gotten one).

The three boys had made quick work of the majority of them, but the captain and first mate of the boarding crew proved to be more difficult. The captain was a devil fruit user, appearing and disappearing in puffs of mist around the ship, whilst the first mate was simply ferocious with an axe.

Usopp had already been carted down to Chopper with cuts galore and most of the crew were wearing thin as they pushed the two intruders back. You were with Nami and Sanji, hitting out at the first mate with all you had.

Nami was thrown back by a kick to the stomach and landed in a heap by a wall. Sanji cussed out and surged forward landing a flurry of well timed kicks to the man that sent him reeling back over the edge of the boat.

As he fell the first mate took one last shot and threw his axe with vicious accuracy. You didn’t even know what had happened before you looked down to gleaming metal protruding from your waist.

Blood poured and Sanji screamed out, rushing towards you.

“Y/N-san!”

Zoro glanced over at the sound of your name and froze. All he could see was crimson splashing the floor and your face turning white as you fell to the ground.

He let out a great bellow of rage and turned back to the captain, trusting Sanji and Nami to get you to Chopper whilst he dealt with the threat. Zoro’s blood ran cold and his twitching reflexes stilled to icy rage. He was a predator in that moment.

Without a single glance to the others he took out the rival captain in several quick strikes, aiming before the mist had even settled. The man stumbled to the floor, coughing and groaning as he petted at his mauled chest.

Zoro hoisted himself up and over the side of the ship to the first mate who owned the axe. His death would not be so quick. Zoro took one last glance over at you, breathing but deathly pale, and had to tear his eyes away to focus on the thrashing sea, looking for the fool who had hurt you.

SANJI

The group had separated out to explore the new island, everyone heading out in twos or threes with supply lists in hand and a wedge of berry from Nami. You had decided to join your lover in resupplying the pantry and spent a pleasurable afternoon skating from stall to stall in a quaint little market place. You’d both made several trips back to the Sunny and were now on the final run, just as the sun set overhead.

“What a beautiful evening mon amour, almost as enchanting as yourself.” Sanji breathed into the shell of your ear, nose tracing the outline softly.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, stopping to check off the last of your shopping list. You pecked Sanji on the cheek and skipped away to the last few stalls, your laugh echoing behind you.

Sanji stared after you in pure adoration, following at a sedate pace as he inhaled the last of his cigarette.

The sounds of crowds and heavy footfall entered the market square from the east, and both you and Sanji peered up in interest from your position hunched over some nectarines. Several armed guards were flooding the square, chasing after a few masked men carrying sacks.

“Don’t let them escape!” The guard obviously in charge thundered towards the crowd, and both you and Sanji surged forward on autopilot to help.

The first of the masked men barrelled straight through the pair of you, pushing you apart as the crowd thronged in every direction.

“Everyone out of the way!” The guard shouted again, and within seconds shots were being fired from both sides of the square.

Most of the crowd ducked and made a run for it, the masked men joining whilst firing from the hip. Sanji flung a spinning leg out to the nearest one and knocked him out cold.

As the guards realised the chef was helping, they started to lower their weapons and evacuate the square. Both Sanji and the more senior guards made short work of the men, and soon they were bound and chained.

Sanji peered around for you as the commotion dulled, frowning softly as his eyes darted between casualties. Poor things.

It was then he saw you. Blood pooled in an angelic circle around your prostrate form, arms limp by your side as you used your legs to try and push upwards.

Sanji ran towards you tears already pooling.

“MON COEUR.” His shout barely registered in your fleeting minds eye, pained fog taking over.

Sanji dropped to his knees beside you and lifted you from the ground, his suit jacket coming off in one swoop to staunch the dribble of blood from your chest. He cradled you to his chest and ran for his life, finding Chopper the only thing he could think of in that moment.

He screamed at the sky as your head dipped into unconsciousness, rage and anguish heavy in his chest. You were the light of Sanji’s life, his reason for being and most cherished love. He loved all because he loved you and in that moment he felt burning hatred for anyone that dared to step in his way.

Luckily Chopper was not too far out from the Sunny and was able to fix you up fairly quickly, concerned about the blood loss but the wound was straight through and a lucky shot.

When the guards did their rounds the next morning and found their prisoners beaten black and blue, teeth scattered in all directions and more than a few bones broken, well they couldn’t say they were particularly bothered to investigate.

LUFFY

The naval commander held a gun to your throat, pulling taut on your hair to tilt your head back.

“LET HER GO!” Luffy shouted.

He watched you struggle to escape the commander, nails tearing and breaking on the man’s muscular arm. You cried out as he pulled you up higher by the hair.

“Surrender yourself straw hat and I will let her go.” The man’s voice was steady but his twitching hand betrayed his nerves.

You blink at Luffy in a silent plea to not give in, you would never forgive yourself if you stood in the way of his becoming the king of pirates.

With that in mind you stamped as hard as you could on the commanders foot before kicking up between his legs. As he crumbled you aimed an elbow towards his face before rolling out of his way.

Luffy grinned at your movement but it quickly disappeared when a shot thundered out across the space.

You crumpled where you stood, hand flying to the side of your neck. You fell to the ground in a dusty heap with a weak scream, the commander behind you looking all too pleased with himself.

Luffy let out an anguished scream and charged at the man, sending him flying with pistoning fists. He gave him no time to rise before throwing him again and again, the man a bloody pulp within minutes.

The red rage cleared from Luffy’s vision when the man finally stayed down and he rushed to your side, sobbing for you to hold on.

[papayadays]

miami

summary: lando x american!reader gf - lando gets his first win in miami, and you’re there for it

a/n: for lando’s amazing race win!! so proud and over the moon <33 also this is very self indulgent (*cough* especially the mit part), omg 

warnings: none i think, fluff, happiness, maybe language like once or twice?

“it’s lights out and away we go!” you heard crofty say. you watched the screen anxiously as you always did with race starts, fiddling with your rings. in the mclaren garage, you heard a collective gasp as checo locked up, nearly taking lando and both ferraris out. then there were cheers as oscar got p4 and then p3, but you were hardly paying attention.

“that was stupid,” you muttered under your breath. “he could’ve ruined so many people’s races.” feeling a gentle prod on your shoulder, you turned around.

“dear, maybe don’t say that here,” your mother advised. “you know how that fans are going to take it.” your dad nodded silently in agreement as you sighed reluctantly.

“fine,” you conceded, biting your nails absentmindedly. “i’m glad y’all are here though.” it was the miami grand prix, and you and your family were in the garage watching your boyfriend. it was very convenient that your family was already on the east coast and florida was always a welcome getaway. this was one of the first races you could actually go to since you were busy with college, studying engineering at mit. to be quite honest, you were probably only going to be able to make it to the three us races and maybe a summer race or two.

you remember the conversation you had with lando before the race. “today is a day full of possibilities,” you heard him mumble to himself. walking towards, him you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“it is,” you agreed, pecking his lips. “podium at least, i think. the car has pace, starting spot is good, data looks nice, ferrari will probably fuck up, and i believe in you.”

his grip on you tightened as he let out a sigh. “every time i think it will go well, things fall apart, with the sprint quali, the sprint race, regular quali,” he said, disappointed. “i just want to do well at your home race, and with your family there too.”

you moved his head to meet your gaze. “lan, you will always make me proud no matter what,” you stated softly. “and my family adores you too. just go out there, and work your magic. i love you, baby.”

lando gave you a wide smile, making your heart flutter as he nestled his head on your shoulder. “thanks, love,” he grinned. “i’ll try and be more positive. i love you too.”

“is it warm in miami?” cisca asked over your phone’s facetime. you had called them since they were back in bristol so you could all be connected as you watched lando.

“very,” you nodded, smiling at your boyfriend’s mother. “but, nothing i’m not used to, i suppose. one summer, when we came to disney, it was sweltering. at least the roller coasters helped cool me off.” this earned a snort from adam, who was staring intently at their tv.

you turned back to the screen, seeing oscar rising up while lando was still behind checo. mouth pressed into a line, you fiddled with your thumbs, looking at your papaya orange nails.

soon, checo had pitted, and you knew that the ferraris and oscar were going to respond to that. earlier, you had talked to will about doing a one stopper, which they were optimistic for, but that was on the premise that a late safety car would come out. you walked over the the panels, observing the telemetry wordlessly, noticing the promising signs of pace.

after the influx of stops, max soon peeled into the pits after hitting a cone -much to your surprise - leaving your boyfriend in first place. “please let the one stopper work,” you murmured. “we need a hail mary overcut.” the performance engineer flashed you an amused look for a brief moment before turning back to the data.

lando maintained the lead, a somewhat-comfortable margin to max, which was baffling you, but also was something you had predicted. suddenly, there was a ruckus in the garage. your eyes had been fixed on the telemetry, so when you eyed the screen, your hand flew to your face, adrenaline pumping through you. “oh my god, oh my god!” you exclaimed. “safety car!” logan had crashed out, and you would be sure to talk to your fellow american later to reassure him, but not now.

the pit crew immediately rushed out, with lando coming in to capitalize on this opportunity. it was a perfect stop, and as he came back out, he came back out with a substantial gap to max, a whole lap ahead of the safety car. please, please, please, you silently prayed.

at the restart, your heart was pounding as max moved closer and closer, about to pounce before lando closed the door on him, pulling away. you let out a sigh of relief, hands at your chest, before glancing back at the data. your eyes widened. the car was flying. with the new hards and fast car, it was like all the pieces were falling into place. your hands flew up to cup your mouth, nervous gibberish coming out as your mother wrapped her arm around your shoulder and cisca gave you an understanding smile.

as the gap to max grew, your freaking out worsened substantially. “oh my lord, please,” you repeated for the umpteenth time, hands still over your mouth. “c’mon, lan.” with each lap, you felt your heart swelling with hope.

and in the blink of an eye, you were on lap 57. “oh my god, he’s gonna do it!” you whispered shouted. you watched as lando rounded the last corner, face stretching into a wide grin. then, he crossed the line. “OH MY GOD HE DID IT!” tears of joy started to stream down your face as you grinned at the screen, barely feeling yourself being pulled into a hug by your parents. over the phone, cisca and adam were freaking out as well, ecstatic at their son winning his first race. “lando, oh my god, oh my fucking god, he’s a race winner!”

you high fived everyone you could reach in the garage, cheers ringing out, before making your way down to the pit lane. “zak, he did it!” you exclaimed, not wanting to bother will yet. the ceo pulled you into a hug, his face red with excitement. your fellow american grinned as you turned to will, tapping his shoulder and giving him a silent thumbs up. here, you could hear lando’s radio, with his cheering that made even more tears fall down your face and then him saying he loved the team. then, he said, “we did it, will!” and that hit you hard, full on sobbing with joy now.

you made your way with the rest of the team to parc ferme, where you saw lando’s mclaren park on the track. he took his time, getting out and pointing a finger to the sky as he stood on his car. you clapped your hands as hard as you could, voice the loudest you’ve ever heard you use.

then, he took off his helmet, revealing the brown curls you loved so much as he made his way. you could spot his smile from miles away, making your heart melt. then, he grinned at the team, putting down his helmet and running at them, leaping into their arms. you could hear his laughs between his sobs, and you pulled you phone out for a quick picture, wanting a picture to save forever. he was fucking on top of the world in that moment, just like he was your world. lando was set back in front of the metal barriers and zak hugged him, hopefully not breaking any ribs.

then came andrea, and the moment was so heartwarming, you almost didn’t see will pushing you past the barriers. then lando was in front of you, arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you in for a deep, magical kiss. you felt all of his emotions, and you tried to convey your pride. “lan, baby, race fucking winner!” you exclaimed, tears still running down your face. “it’s been a long time coming, but it’s finally your day and you deserve it so much. i’ve been dreaming of this for you, and i’m so glad i could be here for it. this is your moment, and i am so, so fucking proud of you. i love you so much, lando.” your smile was impossibly wide as you gazed at your amazing boyfriend, the moment still not quite sinking in yet.

he was ushered to interviews, but not after he was congratulated by half the grid. it made you chuckle, to see how loved your boyfriend was, even among his rivals. he couldn’t stop smiling the entire interview as jenson reflected on everything. you too, started remembering his journey, back when he was a rookie in 2019, to his podium in austria, to sochi’s heartbreak, to all his podiums, and now. you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard lando say, “this one is for a lot of the special people in my life. my grandma, my parents, my girlfriend and her family, who happen to live in the us, and lastly, for the team. i love you all, and thank you so much for everything.”

afterwards, you tuned out of max and charles interviews, eyes fixed on your boyfriend as he went to get ready for the podium. everything was a blur up until they announced lando, the race winner. you cheered like you had never cheered before, wiping away the ever flowing tears as he pumped his fist, moving to stand on the top step. finally, after so long.

the british national anthem started playing, and you noticed the pride etched onto lando’s smile. you mouthed along the words, having learned them years ago for this specific scenario. your eyes were trained on him, something he noticed as he gave you a wink, grin widening at seeing you singing his national anthem.

after the music ended, you laughed as max and charles wasting no time in spraying your boyfriend in champagne. he looked so thrilled and you wanted that memory seared into the back of your eyelids. lando’s bottle smash seemed brilliant this time and the tears finally stopped as you gazed up at him, beaming with happiness. that was your boy.

then, lando was quick to exit the stage, heading back down to the team where he quickly pulled you into his arms. “baby, y/n, love!” he exclaimed, pressing kisses all over your face. “i actually did it!”

“you did,” you responded, voice filled with glee. “i’m so, so proud of you, lan! about fucking time. huh, nico was right. lando norris, you’re a race winner. and this is your time to shine.” you pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck in a euphoric kiss.

“this one’s for you baby,” lando grinned. “and there’s more to come.”

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings Part Six

As the morning sunset swept through my hotel room's balcony view, I felt Hugh begin stirring in his sleep, "G'day, gorgeous." He said sleepily as I felt him start stretching. 

I smiled, "Good morning, sexy." I purred, leaning up to peck his lips before moving out of the bed towards the bathroom to turn on the shower. 

Today was going to be bittersweet. I was going back home today, my stay in LA had come to an end. It was time for me to head back to the East Coast, to the beautiful, busy town of New York City. Hugh was in LA for the filming of the new Deadpool & Wolverine movie, so I'd be going back to NYC solo. Truth be told, I missed my condo in New York, but I knew I'd miss my favorite Aussie even more. 

Now that things are beginning to happen, the thought of leaving breaks my heart. I didn't realize I was reacting to my thoughts until his voice interrupted the thoughts racing through my brain. I felt two arms snake around me, "What's wrong, my love?" He asked softly. 

I sniffled, quickly wiping a fallen tear from my cheek, "I'm leaving today to go back home." I said as my voice trembled. 

He frowned, "Today?" He asked, making sure he heard me correctly. I nodded, staying silent, trying to control my flooding emotions. "Do you have to go back home today?" He asked. 

I sighed, "I paid for a round trip, so my flight's already booked. I can't get a refund and I can't afford to lose the money." 

He kissed my forehead, "I'll take care of it." He said simply. 

I looked at him, shaking my head. "I can't let you do that." 

He smiled, "I want to and I can." pecking my lips again. 

I rolled my eyes, "I don't want you doing that. I paid for first class and that's not cheap." 

He chuckled, "You do realize I make millions, right love? I'm making $20 million from Deadpool. I can assure you a first class plane ticket will not break me."

I shrugged, "And I'm staying where?" 

He looked at his phone, "With Noldsy and Blake, and of course me. You have to babysit their kids from time to time, but it's not that bad." He chuckled.  

I looked at him, "You seriously want me to cancel my flight?" I asked, grabbing my phone. 

He pouted, "I would be heartbroken if you didn't." 

I smiled, "And Ryan and Blake are okay with this?" I questioned. 

He rolled his eyes, "C'mon, you know Ryan and Blake love you." 

I sighed, "Okay, if you insist..." I logged onto my app and canceled my flight, luckily receiving a 50% refund for a last minute cancellation from the flight insurance I'd purchased when I first paid for the ticket. "It's cancelled." I said, throwing my phone down, pulling him into the shower with me. 

As we washed off he spoke, "We'll drop your rental car off when we head out. We can take mine back to Ryan and Blake's." 

I nodded, "Okay, but I need to make a stop and get some more clothes. I packed for five days and I'm not wearing the same outfits for another week." 

He kissed my forehead, while rinsing my hair out, "We can do that." 

After our shower and packing up the hotel room, we parted ways to drop off my rental car, Hugh following close behind me in his. 

Hugh's POV:  

As I followed close behind her, I was overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the course of knowing her. We'd met each other in 2020 when she starred as an extra on a show I was working on. I had very little interaction with her on the show, but backstage was a different story. She approached me and told me how she was starstruck to work with Wolverine, which made me laugh. 

She was only 22 years old when I met her, I was 51, turning 52. She was an attractive young woman. She was funny, she was intelligent and she was humble. I thought nothing about her until we'd cut up on set and spent hours talking. She had a boyfriend and I had a wife at home, not to mention I like older women. We'd remained friends until she came to my rescue when my father died. That's when things went wild for me. Several things took place that her pride will not allow her to talk about, but I couldn't stop thinking about them. 

When I arrived back to NYC and to Deb, I separated myself from her. COVID made it easier. I kept trying to block the feelings out because I knew they were wrong. I forced myself to focus on Deb, and Deb only, but that only made us grow further apart in our marriage. 

While in England, not only did I walk in on her changing and saw her breasts, there was one night she had too much to drink and confessed many things to me that she has no memory of. She talked about her difficult upbringing, she talked about her failed relationships, but she doesn't have any recollection of admitting to me that she loved me and dreamed that one day I'd be hers. Or how if my marriage ever ends, she was claiming me for herself. That night, I'd had a few drinks myself and we shared a kiss. 

I thought about how after I walked in on her, she'd became what I'd imagine when I'd wank off. I'd imagine how perfect her breasts were, how I wanted to run my hands down every curve on her body as I fucked her, and how her pussy would taste, or how tight it would be around my fingers. I thought about how much I'd want to pleasure her and make her orgasm so much that she couldn't function anymore. Just the thought of her made my dick throb.

But, it was more than just sex with her. She was genuinely my favorite human being, besides my children and of course, Ryan Reynolds. She was there for me during one of the hardest times of my life. She keeps me grounded and focused on the bigger picture, even if I struggle to see it. I'd spent 20 years thinking I was with the love of my life, until I realized I didn't know the meaning of it when she came to England that night. 

Main Reader's POV: 

As we arrived at the drop-off for the rental car, I quickly returned the keys, heading back outside only to be bombarded by photographers. They photographed Hugh, me, us in the car together, etc as they asked if we were an item. 

"They're fucking relentless, jesus christ." I mumbled. 

He chuckled, "You act like you haven't had the press bother you." 

I giggled, "Not to that extent. That was different."

He reached over grabbing my hand, interlocking it with his, bringing it to his lips, placing a small kiss on my knuckles, "Did you want to get clothes now?" 

I blushed, shaking my head, "Let's get to Ryan's first. Let them calm down and then we'll go." I said regarding the photographers. 

He chuckled, "Okay, we can do that." 

The drive to Ryan's wasn't long. It was full of Hugh singing along to songs on the radio. He had a beautiful voice and hearing it on screen was nothing compared to hearing it in person. About 5 minutes later, we arrived at Ryan's place. Ryan and Blake weren't home. Ryan was filming scenes and Blake was promoting her new movie. The kids were with a nanny since Nanny Hugh had been MIA all weekend. 

As we walked in and made it to the bedroom Hugh was staying in, he ran his fingers through his beard, "I've gotta shave this." He said to himself. 

I smirked, "Can I help?" 

He giggled, "Can you do the Wolverine shave? It has to be perfect for the film." 

I shrugged, "It can't be too hard to shave mutton chops."

"Shawn will kill me if you fuck this up." He laughed, handing me a set of clippers. 

I giggled, grabbing them. "I won't fuck this up. Do you know how in love with Logan I was as a child?" 

He playfully rolled his eyes, "Don't say it like that. It makes me feel old and it's making me feel weird. You know I was 32 or 33 when I filmed that."

I shrugged, "I was 4 when it was released." 

He cringed, "God, stop. Let's talk about something else." 

I chuckled as I began shaving the infamous mutton chops, "I love making you uncomfortable." I said playfully. 

He looked up at me, "I'm not giving you a reaction while you're shaving my face, but I've noticed." 

As I finished up showing him my kick ass skills as a barber, we heard a voice downstairs, "Oh, Hugh! Where you at big fella?! It's your favorite Canadian. A little birdie called the media just told me you're with a hot little number. Is she here?" 

We quickly jumped at the sound of his voice, looking at one another, making a run for the door to meet him downstairs.  Ryan looked at us, still wearing the Deadpool suit, "Ah, there she is. Hot little number, this is my humble abode" He chuckled as he swayed his arms around showing me his living room. 

"Why are you in your suit, mate? They actually let you bring Deadpool's suit home?" Hugh asked, smirking, knowing Ryan was instructed to not leave set with the suit. 

Ryan smirked, "Sir, I will have you know, I stole this suit." 

I joked, "Levy is going to beat you."

Ryan laughed, "He can try, but no one can beat me in this suit, darling." 

I rolled my eyes, "Mutton Chops! Look at you." He exclaimed at Hugh, noticing the freshly shaved face. 

Hugh laughed as Ryan's face got serious, "Seriously though, I have a question for you." He said, pointing towards me. 

"And that is?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

Ryan looked at Hugh and I, "We're rounding up people to play the Deadpool variants. Blake is Lady Deadpool, but there's another female one. Do you want to do it?" He asked. 

I gasped, "Are you serious?" my eyes widened. 

He smirked, "As a heart attack, sister. Plus, I figured it would give Hughy here more time to spend with you."  

[lvnleah]

001. | last game

word count: 2.7k

find the series masterlist here!

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May 27th 2023.

It was a bittersweet day. It was the last game of the 22/23 season in the WSL and Leah was out injured with her ACL and had been for the past month.

You watched on from the east stand with your wife, Leah, and her family at Meadow Park as the whistle blew for a final time this season. You and Leah gathered your things before making your way down to the pitch.

Leah joined the girls as they all formed a guard of honour for who was leaving the club. You watched on as Rafa said her goodbyes and the club presented Jordan with a framed shirt for her time at Arsenal as well.

Leah walked round the pitch to the best of her ability with the other girls, clapping and thanking the fans for attending while you and her family made your way onto the pitch. You were with Leah’s mum, Amanda, who you’d grown extremely close to in the four years you’d been with Leah.

You’d met Leah at sixteen at an England camp and out of the pair of you, Leah was the only one who went professional in football. You stopped playing when you turned eighteen because it didn’t feel right and ended up owning a small bakery.

You watched as Leah slowly walked around the pitch. She’d torn her ACL just over a month ago now and had recently had surgery a few weeks ago so her walking still wasn’t the best. You could tell that not being able to be on the pitch was killing her.

Leah finished applauding the fans before making her way over to you and her Mum, “Hey love, you alright?” Leah asked you, pecking your lips.

You nodded as she pulled you into a hug, “Yeah how are you?”

“Knees a bit sore,” she laughed, “Is it alright if we stick around for a bit?”

You nodded, “Yeah of course.”

You and Leah wandered around the pitch, hand in hand, as you said your hellos to different people and teammates. Everyone had their family and friends on the pitch, a few young kids ran around.

“Leah!” A little voice sounded. You looked down and saw a little girl, Kim’s niece, tapping Leah on the leg. Her little blonde curls bounced around on her head as she wore a mini arsenal kit. “Leah play with me?”

“I would love to!” Leah gasped, matching the little girl’s enthusiasm.

Leah grabbed a ball and made her way over to the penalty spot with the little girl, she placed the ball down before letting her kick into the goal. The fans erupted into a cheer as the ball went in, Leah cheered before leaning down the best she could and high-fiving the little girl.

A few other kids joined in and you watched on. You floated around, making small talk with people you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Y/N!” Beth smiled, embracing you in a hug as she held a baby. “How are you?”

You hugged her back, “I’m good, I should be asking you that.” You joke, “Who’s this little cutie?”

“I’m doing alright, sad I can’t be on the pitch,” Beth laughed. Beth herself was also out with her ACL as well as her girlfriend, Viv.. “This is Milo! Stole him from his Mumma, she’s a friend of mine and Viv's, he’s helping keep us entertained.”

You tickled Milo’s stomach, earning an adorable baby giggle, “Oh you’re such a cutie!”

You stuck with Beth and Milo, you and Beth got lost in a conversation as you wandered around the pitch. Every now and then you’d stop to say hello to someone else before continuing to wander around.

Leah was off playing to the best of her abilities with Kim’s nieces and nephews as well as a few other kids that had joined in. You, Beth and Amanda watched as she walked back and forth, giving each kid a turn at kicking the ball into the net.

Your heart warmed and your ovaries felt like they were going to explode, seeing Leah with kids made you feel full. Over the past few months, you’d seen Leah interact and look after her baby nephew which had built up this brodyness feeling inside of you. You’d been yearning for a baby for a while now and these past couple of weeks the talk of having kids had been brought up more.

The little kids ran back to their parents and Leah joined you and Beth. She wrapped her arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Who’s this little guy?” Leah cooed, tickling Milo’s stomach.

“Milo, he’s my godson.” Beth smiled, “little cheeky thing he is.”

Milo reached out, chubby fingers grasping at the air. Leah’s face softened, and she scooped him up, cradling him against her chest. Both of you played a game of peek-a-boo with Milo before handing him back to Beth.

As time wore on, the crowd started to leave and so did everyone on the pitch. Leah said her goodbyes to everyone before leaving with you and her mum.

You picked up a Chinese takeaway on the way home and took it back to your house, Amanda joined you two as well as Leah’s brother, Jacob. It was a simple yet perfect ending to a day filled with love and laughter.

Although you were occupied with spending time with Leah and her family, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Leah will all of the kids today. That same broody feeling still sat in your stomach, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about Leah holding and cradling Milo.

For a long time, you knew you wanted kids with Leah, it was something you’d talked about multiple times in the past. Reciprocal IVF was something you’d agreed on doing, you’d carry Leah’s egg and she’d carry yours when the time came. The only thought on your mind was starting a family with Leah all evening.

Amanda and Jacob ended up leaving late, meaning you and Leah climbed into bed as soon as they had left. You were both tired from a long and emotional day.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Leah asked as you slipped into bed beside her.

You sighed, “Le, do you still want kids?” Waiting for Leah’s answer filled you with anxiety, she could turn around and say anything.

A smile crept up on Leah’s face as she nodded her head, “Yeah, of course, I do. I’ve always imagined us with a few little ones running around, causing chaos,” she began to trace patterns on your thigh, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding your head, “I do and I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby, Le. I think now’s the right time, I know you’re out injured but it feels right.”

Leah’s eyes lit up, “Really? You’re really ready?” You nodded your head once again, “I’ve been ready for a long time, baby. I just wanted to follow your lead with everything.”

“Seeing Milo and the others today, it’s like something clicked inside me. I want this with you, I want a family.” You admitted.

Leah’s smile was blinding. She cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “God, I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

You and Leah spent the rest of the night talking about how you imagined your future. You made up little scenarios together, talking about all the things you wanted to do with your kids and show them all the different things in the world.

The next few days were spent researching IVF clinics and getting recommendations from couples you knew who’d done reciprocal ivf. You found one local to you that seemed right for you and Leah.

After a month filled with many phone calls and different health checks, you and Leah finally began the IVF process. It was the perfect timing, you’d had a month to think about everything but it also gave you a few months together before Leah went back to training.

You’d both agreed that you’d be the one to carry the pregnancy but you’d used Leah’s egg. Using Leah’s egg meant that Leah had to have a round of different injections every evening in order to stimulate her ovaries. Previous to starting the medications, you and Leah were both put on birth control to sync your cycles.

When it was time to stop the birth control, you and Leah had a long appointment with your IVF nurse who explained how to use all of the medications and how to give the injections. You practised giving the injections on fake skin, making you more confident within yourself.

“You ready?” You asked Leah as you finished wiping the area with an alcohol wipe.

Leah nodded, you could tell she was nervous, “That needle is so big…” She murmured, “Why’s it so big?!”

Leah felt stupid panicking over a needle when you were the one who was going to have to carry a baby for nine months and eventually give birth.

“It’s just a needle, Le.” you laughed at your wife, “You ready?”

Leah nodded once again, “I’ll look away.” She said, looking over your head at the blank wall behind her.

Leah took a deep breath and clenched her fist. The room seemed to hold its breath too. You pressed the plunger, delivering the medication that would help Leah’s body produce the eggs needed for the egg retrieval process. The needle slid in smoothly, and Leah winced, her eyes squeezing shut.

You held the needle in for five seconds, pushing the medicine in, “Done,” you whispered, pulling the needle out.

Leah exhaled, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bed. You stood up and kissed her forehead. “We’re really doing this.” Leah grinned.

As the days passed, you and Leah continued with the injections. You began to take estrogen to help prepare your own body for the embryo transfer while Leah carried on with her injections.

Every evening you’d give Leah her injections and every few days Leah would have monitoring appointments to track how her eggs were maturing and when she’d be ready for the egg retrieval.

While Leah was taking the injections, her body began to change. By day three you’d noticed how drained she was, she was much more tired and had started taking multiple naps throughout the day. She was also crying more often, Leah had always been an emotional person but she was even more emotional while taking the injections.

You came home from work one day to find her crying over a puppy video she’d seen on TikTok.

By day eleven, Leah’s eggs were mature and ready for the egg retrieval. You were lucky that it only took eleven days rather than the fourteen it could’ve been. Thirty-six hours before the egg retrieval, Leah had her trigger shot. It gave her a day to prepare before having her egg retrieval.

Leah’s egg retrieval was a smooth process. It was a midday appointment and Leah’s recovery hadn’t begun yet, meaning that Leah didn’t have to worry about booking time off. The sedation sent Leah into a sleep, Leah claimed it was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life.

She didn’t remember most of it but you were there when she woke up. She felt groggy and was soon discharged for you to take care of her at home. Amanda brought round a lasagne for you both which you enjoyed together on the sofa. That evening consisted of laying together in bed, Leah had a hot water bottle strapped to her stomach due to the intense cramps she was having.

You were told to expect anywhere between five and fourteen eggs to be collected from the egg retrieval but because Leah had endometriosis that it was probably going to be on the lower side. The next day, your doctor phoned you with the news of how many eggs you’d managed to get.

Luckily, you got seven eggs which took both you and Leah by surprise. You’d both prepared yourself to get a lower amount of eggs, both of you expected to get four or five but you got seven. Seven little eggs that would soon become embryos.

Following the retrieval, your doctor fertilised the eggs and continued to prep your body for the transfer. You and Leah chose to use your brothers sperm, meaning the baby would be related to the both of you. You took both estrogen and progesterone in hopes of preparing your body successfully, which it did.

Six days after Leah’s egg retrieval, you had your transfer. Out of the seven of the eggs that were taken from Leah, only five made it through. You decided to transfer just one egg and freeze the other four for future use.

“You ready to go, pretty girl?” Leah asked you from beside the door as you grabbed the bag.

You nodded your head as you picked up your bag and slipped your shoes on, “Mhm, let's go get me pregnant!” You joked.

You spent that morning cuddled in bed with Leah, she ordered you breakfast from McDonald’s which you enjoyed in bed together.

Leah drove you both to the clinic, the radio played in the background as you and Leah talked about random things. When you arrived, you didn’t wait around long before your doctor called you in.

You changed into a gown and had to put on a hair net, Leah had to put on a hair net too which you made sure to snap a photo of. Leah held your hand as the doctors performed the small procedure. They talked you through each step and you were even able to watch it on the screen in front of you.

Five minutes later, the procedure was done and you were officially pregnant until proven otherwise. A little image of your embryo was given to you and Leah as well as a box of pregnancy tests that you weren’t allowed to take until after the two-week wait.

“I’m so proud of you,” Leah murmured against your forehead as you stood outside of your car. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you smiled before pressing a soft kiss to Leah’s lips. “I’m so tired.” You yawned.

Leah chucked, opening your car door, “Let’s get you home, pretty girl.”

When you arrived home, your body felt weak and tired. You headed straight for your bedroom and climbed into bed but when you opened your bedroom door you were met with a surprise.

A little gift basket was set on the end of your bed, filled with different goodies. You turned around and faced Leah, tears welling in your eyes.

“Le, did you do this for me?” You asked, a tear slipping down your face.

She nodded, “I had my Mum bring it round while we were out, have a look at it.”

You stepped closer to the bed and rummaged through the basket. It was filled with all of your favourite snacks, skincare stuff and a brand-new blanket. On top of the blanket was a note attached.

You reached for the note, unfolding it carefully. Leah’s handwriting was written across the page, each word etched with love. “What’s this?” You asked.

“Open it,” she urged.

—

To my pretty girl,

I love you so much, more than words can describe. I’m so grateful to be doing this with you and I’m so proud to be your wife. Thank you for giving your body up as a place and home for our baby to grow. I can’t wait to experience this journey with you. I promise to treat you like a princess for the next nine months.

Love you lots,

Le <33

—

Tears continued to slip down your face as you turned on your heels to face Leah. She engulfed you and a hug and held you close to her chest.

“These next nine months are going to be perfect, I promise.” Leah whispered into your hairline.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Too Dangerous

Ona Batlle x Reader [SMUT! rough.] Mafia and Football, can the two worlds coexist?

two part series, part two is in the making.

i had to use the new gifs im sorry, they’re not mine!

//

“I expected it to be dropped off by noon today, Michael.”

“I-I was five minutes late! There was t-traffic!”

“That’s not my fucking problem. I said noon, I want fucking noon!!”

Your hand slaps across his face, eyes seething with anger. You chuckle darkly, your fist forming tight before you punch his face repeatedly. His face slices open from the ring you were wearing, you hold yourself back from leaving another bruising blow on his mangled face. You put your hand out and a wet towel slips into it which you use to wipe your knuckles off.

Your right-hand man, George checks his pulse, nodding at you.

“He’ll be alright.”

“Of course he will, I didn’t even hit him that hard.”

“What do you want me to do with him?”

“Send him home with another shipment for tomorrow and see if he’s learned his lesson.”

You turn on your heel and throw the towel somewhere. The mansion is big with four wings; the east wing is reserved for activities such as this. You’ve two bodyguards that follow you around everywhere, your head of security insists that you can never be too careful.

“Pat, James, give me a fucking minute to breathe yeah? I think I can handle any moron that tries to jump me in my own house.”

“Yes ma’am,” James says gruffly, walking away with Pat to hang out in the security room.

Stepping into the west atrium, you hear your favorite sound in the world. You hear your girlfriend laughing at something when you also hear the chef telling her one of his serially bad jokes.

“What’s brown and sticky?”

“What?”

“A stick!”

It’s a stupid joke but Ona is too nice not to laugh wholeheartedly at it. You walk in and she hears you, leaving the conversation to jump into your arms. It had been days since she last saw you, you were on a business trip and she had shoots to do after training.

“Hi baby girl,” you say, catching her when she jumps up into your arms.

“Hi…,” she whispers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, darling. The boys pick you up on time?”

“Sí, they were waiting for me when I walked out and saw your text. I think Martin drove my car here for me too.”

“Good, I told him to. Are you hungry? Gio would be more than happy to whip something up for us. Approved from your diet of course.”

“Mm, I am a little hungry.” You gently put her down, she presses her lips to yours and controls a searing kiss for a while. Your hands find her small waist, pulling her into you before she pulls away.

“Okay, I’m not so hungry anymore.”

It's your turn to laugh, pecking her forehead.

“You’re something baby. Come on, let’s get you fed.”

Ona requests Spanish breakfast for dinner, and Gio goes a little crazy when fulfilling her request. There are plates upon plates of food, the smell making everyone’s stomachs growl with hunger. You sit at the head of the table, Ona deciding to scoot in and settle herself in your lap. Your hand slips around her hips as she leans back into your chest.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I have a concern, can we talk after dinner?”

She pulls back and looks down at you, eyes looking a little worried. You nod, rubbing the small of her back softly.

“Of course, baby. I’ll get a bottle of champagne chilled, we can relax by the pool and have a little swim, how’s that sound?”

"Suena perfecto, bebé.”

She looked a little more relieved then, she moved to get off your lap and into her usual chair on your right. You grasp her waist a little tighter as she tries to stand, whispering only to her.

“Stay.”

The voice used insinuates obedience, she nods and begins to pile her plate high. She digs in, feeding you off her plate.

“Gio, these tostadas are divine,” you say as Ona feeds you another bite.

“Gracias! My mother would kill me if she knew I was selling her sacred recipes online.”

“Oh, could you slip a Boërl in the chiller Gio? Ona and I want a bottle to have by the pool tonight.”

“Already have, madame, it’ll be ready when you are.”

“Perfect, feed the boys will you? Lord knows they’ll never let a speckle of your cooking go to waste,” you say, pushing your chair back and helping Ona to her feet before standing yourself. You take her hand and walk towards the bedroom, climbing the quartz stairs with a little pep in your step.

The entire dinner consisted of being one, fed by Ona, and two, wracking your brain as to why she wanted to talk to you about something that was concerning her. Was it the club, or did something happen? Was there someone bothering her at the facility, a stalker I needed to get rid of? Did she want to break up with you? You’ve been together for 4 years, maybe she was bored of all the secrecy and the vows of not making your work interfere with her life when you made a mistake when we started dating.

You called her over in the morning a year ago on her day off, forgetting that she was coming soon after. You had a money laundering prick who scammed little old ladies come in and you had to “deal with it,” she walked right into the east wing where a newbie security detail moronically brought her to me.

She stood and watched you break a man's ribs, and jaw, then proceeded to cut a few fingers off to find in a bucket of others to have sewn back on. Only when there was a loud gagging sound and a flash of brown hair did you realize who was watching.

She ran to the closest bathroom and threw up, yelling at you to go away. After coaxing her to open the door, she pushed herself as far as she could away from you; she was scared. You had never let her into this part of your work, scared for this very reason. She had seen a side of you that you kept well hidden, reserved for people who fucked with you. It took her days to even look at me, let alone be in the same room as you. You had made it crystal clear that what you did was not for her to know, but for her to enjoy the wealth that came with it. She had a vague idea, and was warned severely of the consequences, should she be inclined to speak to people who could end it all. But as time went on, you knew she was not one to betray you; she had turned into one of the most loyal people in my world, someone you would gladly lay you life down for.

“I’ve got you a present,” you say, pulling her into our bedroom.

“What is it this time? You spoil me way too much.”

“It’s not another car, I promise. It’s little, fitting for tonight.”

You pull out a brand-new swimsuit, one that leaves anyone who would see her in a minute jealous that she was all yours.

“Oh bebita, it’s gorgeous.”

“Put it on, I’ve been dreaming of you in it since I bought it.”

She hops into the bathroom to change, as you pull on a swimsuit yourself. It’s plain black, and if the night goes to plan, will end up next to a lawn chair in about 30 minutes.

She walks out shyly, hands behind her back, standing in all her muscular glory.

“Fuck, it is so much better than I imagined. C’mere.”

She timidly walks over, wrapping her arms around your neck. She leans in and kisses you, lips soft and tasted like cherry. You kissed back, humming softly into her mouth. She pulled away, hands softly stroking the back of your neck.

“I love you,” she whispers, “and thank you. It’s so pretty.”

“Just like you, my girl.”

She blushes again, grabbing your hand and running down to the pool outside. She lets go of your hand and dives in, coming up and swimming to the edge. She rests her arms on the side, taking the glass of champagne from you with a soft “thank you, amor.”

You sit by the edge, feet dipped into the cold water. Sipping on the expensive alcohol, she suddenly pushes herself out of the pool and sits beside you. Remembering why you were here in the first place, she finishes her glass and you immediately fill it up again. The bubbly wine gives her liquid courage, and she feels brave enough to admit her troubles and not let her brain convince her that she’s overreacting.

“I think someone’s been following me.”

You stop drinking, head slowly turning to look at her.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s been this car I’ve been seeing for weeks. At first, I thought it was just a new staff member or something but I saw it in the parking lot when I was grocery shopping the other night and I thought it was a new fan or something but now I think it’s someone because of you.”

“How long? Do not lie to me.”

“2 months.”

“Fucking hell Ona.”

Your brain immediately goes into protective mode, coming up with all the ways to find the fucker and cut him into a million pieces. You run your hand down your face.

“I want a detailed description for George tomorrow. I’ll increase your security, and put George on your team. You will not go anywhere without him, I will make sure you get to training and whatever on time. I’ll have a word with Jonatan too, see if my men can hang around to protect you and the girls if necessary until I fucking kill the bastard.”

“That’s too much baby,” she begins to negotiate but you stop her, hand raised in front of her face.

“No, not when it comes to you, darling. You only get the best, if the girls get to enjoy that too on my dime, so be it.”

She sets her glass to the side and surges forward, pressing her lips desperately on yours. You kiss back, cupping her face gently. Ona pulls away and grins, before slipping back into the pool. You’re about to jump in when she grabs your hands and pulls you in. You squeal in surprise, coming up with a cheeky grin on your face.

“You’re in big trouble, baby girl.”

“What if I want to be?” Oh, bold Ona. Very bold, my love.

“Then you won’t be opposed to being punished, hm?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You pulled me into the water, and you didn’t tell me about your stalker for two months. You’re lucky he didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be wrong.”

“I’m not mad, my love. I’m so proud of you for being brave and coming to me. Let me worry about it now, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You pull her in for a kiss, hands roaming her body. You won’t lie, the swimsuit she had on was a massive turn-on and if we weren’t about to fuck in the pool, you was sure as hell going to devour her before bed.

“You look way too fucking good in that two-piece not to be ravishingly worshipped, my darling.”

She blushes, kissing you hard. Ona pulls your hands around to her ass, which you squeeze hard and draw a deep moan from her. Your hands pull at her cheeks, fingers rubbing gently at her asshole and folds. You maneuver her around to the edge again, picking her up easily to sit. She leans back, as your fingers pull her bottoms to the side and bury your face in her folds. She’s soaking wet, arousal thick and delicious.

She whimpers for you, strong hands tangled in your wet locks. Your tongue darts into her, throwing her legs over your shoulders before pulling her closer to the edge. You're practically holding her hips up, lips suckling at her clit hard. Ona moans loudly, back arching off the ground.

“Please!” she moans, fingers tightening in your hair as her legs squeeze at your head deliciously. You slip two fingers into her, pumping in and out of her slick pussy hard. They press up into her sweet spot, fingertips rubbing circles over it to get her to come faster. She huffed and puffed, face contorting into all kinds of pleasure. She makes eye contact and cries out your name, coming hard and fast. Ona pants, licking her dry lips.

“A la mierda esto, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will die.”

“Picked out a new strap for you to be split open on, mi amor.”

//

“puta madre!”

“Yeah, this one’s pretty fuckin’ big huh?”

“Feels s-so good!”

Your hips pound into Ona, swimsuits abandoned at the foot of the bed. She’s on her front, trying her best to push her ass back on you as you fuck her from behind. She tries to keep up, knees buckling every time the new strap finds a new erogenous spot she never knew she had. It was significantly bigger than she had ever taken, with three prior orgasms and a fingering of a lifetime, she was finally open enough to take the head. Coming once again was the key to taking the whole thing, Ona looked absolutely wrecked when speared on it.

“You’re so fucking hot baby, taking my cock so well princess,” you cooed, hands turning her onto her back as your fingers rubbed her clit that you just spat on. She was sensitive beyond words, her speech slurred, and was barely babbling, hyper-focused on her pending sixth orgasm for the night.

“Are you gonna cum, my sweet?” you whispered into her ear, leaning over her as your hips did not slow down one bit. Hands pressed her legs wide open, harness dragging over her clit with each powerful thrust.

“Yes, yes!” she croaked out, head nodding hard and fast as she cried tears of frustration and sexual arousal.

You spat on her hot clit again, fingers rubbing messily at her folds as you sped up even more. She screamed, orgasm ripping through her hard. She was convulsing and begging for you to not stop, the aftershocks making her beg again, this time for you to stop.

You chuckle and do, pulling out and pulling the harness off. She tucked in your chest immediately, cradled, and kissed softly.

“You took that so well, darling.”

“Can we take a bath together please?”

You pick her up, heading into the huge en suite. She sits pretty on the counter, feet dangling as you start a hot bath. You help her in, climbing in behind her as she settles back against your chest. Her eyes close, pulling your arms around her middle. Your lips press against her shoulders, sucking softly at her skin. She hums, biting her lip gently.

“Can we do one more?” you ask her, grinning against her ear, hand already caressing the inside of her thighs.

“Amor…” she whines, body jolting in surprise when your fingers gently rub at her sore folds.

“Just one more baby girl, then we’ll go to bed.”

Your fingers, long and thick, fill her pussy with unsurprising ease. They drag slow and taut, mulling her pleasure like an aged wine. She whines, legs opening wider in the water as your fingers slip in deeper. She grasps your forearm, grinding carefully into your hand.

“Already so close, mi vida? I can feel you clenching around me hm?”

“You feel just…so full…”

“Come for me baby, you’ve done exceptionally all night, love.”

She comes with a cry of your name, going boneless in your arms. You finger her through the aftershocks, her whines dying in her throat.

All dried and tucked in bed, Ona suddenly presses herself up on top of you. She looks down with fear in her eyes.

“When you find him,” she takes a deep breath, “You’re not going to kill him are you?”

Your hands brush up on her thighs, thumbs softly rubbing her hips.

“It depends on what choice he gives me, darling. What I do with him is none of your concern.” Your tone is final, and she doesn’t argue, instead scooting down and resting her head on your chest.

"Buenas noches, mi amor".

“Good night, my beautiful girl.”

//

“I’ll see you at the game. You won’t be late, right?”

“No, my love. George will take you; I have some business to attend to first. I’ve also spoken to security at the stadium, my men are there as an extra precaution looking for the description you gave us. It’ll be a little stuffy for the girls, I apologize.”

“Can you come and explain the situation to the girls with me?” Ona asks with wide eyes, wrapping her arms around your neck. Your hands hold her hips, gently pulling her into yours.

“Of course, bebita. Anything you want.”

She walks out of the house with three more security guards than she’s used to, shoved into a huge van with tinted windows that she couldn’t even see out of and instructions to not engage with fans for today.

“But, they’re here to see us! I can’t just ignore them!” Ona argues, determined to put her foot down.

“I’m sorry ma’am, we have to be safe,” George informs her, looking back from the front seat.

“No, I will not do it. The fans have nothing to do with it, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m calling Y/N,” she says firmly, dialing your number.

“Amor?”

“Missing me so soon, princesa?”

“Why am I not allowed to meet with the fans today?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Can you tell George that please?” 

She hands the phone over, deciphering the conversation you two were having, grinning when she heard she had her way.

He hands her phone back with a slightly annoyed look.

“No one gets a shirt signed until I’ve determined they don’t look funny.”

//

“Chicas! Why the hell are there so many men in suits outside?” Patri yells out as she enters the changing room. Most of the girls nodded and began to talk amongst themselves. Suddenly, the door is opened and you walk in, the door locking behind you.

“Hola girls, hi baby,” you announce, Ona running up to you for a hug and a kiss. You spin her around and put her down before you shrug your coat off.

You greet everyone else with hugs and kisses before Alexia pipes up and enquires about why you’re here.

“Board members don’t usually visit their teams before an easy game,” she questioned, hands on her hips dramatically.

You’ve owned a sizable chunk of Barcelona for years, something your father passed down to you along with his “business” when he died 7 years ago. It was how you met Ona, having been a close friend of Alexia’s when she introduced you two at a Spain international friendly when you had visited to see Alexia play. It was love at first sight, at least for you. No one could ever compare to her.

“Sorry girls, this one’s my doing. We have a situation, I’m handling it. It’ll be this way for a while until it’s resolved.”

“Is this about that guy that’s been hovering around the facility for weeks now?” Caro asks, and the whole team begins to nod.

“Is there something I’m missing here?”

You look at Ona, then at Alexia. Alexia opens her mouth to speak when Ona lifts her hand.

“All of us have been stalked bebé. It’s the same guy,” she says, some of the girls discussing his description, and it was becoming clear that it was the same guy that Ona was talking about.

Your eyes change and you run a hand down your face. Just as you’re about to call George, he does.

“Ma’am, I have the information you asked for.”

“I do too although I have a feeling you’re going to tell me something I already know, you go first.”

The girls listen in, the room is silent except for your voice and George’s muffled one.

“He’s more than just Ona’s stalker, he’s been following all the girls.”

“Well, it looks like we’re both on the same page.”

“How did you know to check?”

“A hunch. You better have more than that for me.”

//

El Clasico goes as smoothly as it could, with Barça getting an easy win over Real. You’re in the stands, phone pressed to your ear. Ona and Aitana walk over to sign autographs and such, you wave and go back to talking to George on the phone. Ona gets close enough to hear you, sighing when you move away and walk into the tunnel without her.

Aitana notices, asking her friend if everything is alright. Ona shrugs, signing another fan t-shirt.

“Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

//

You’ve made your way into the changing room as the girls slowly filter in. You look at little angry but smile at Ona when she walks in with Aitana.

George continues on the phone.

“He’s got a few favorites. Besides Ona, he’s been frequenting Alexia, Aitana, Lucy, and, this one was a surprise, Ingrid.”

You pull your phone from your ear, looking at the girls whose names were listed.

“Ona, Ingrid, Alexia, Aitana and Lucy. With me.”

Mapi gives Ingrid a look but lets her go, the five girls following you out to an empty physio room. They’re silent, looking at each other with great concern.

You keep talking to George.

“What’s the plan, boss?”

“He isn’t here, is he?”

“No ma’am, we’ve searched every nook and cranny.”

“The house is the safest for them right now.”

“I agree.”

“I’ll call you back in a minute.”

Click.

“Do not panic,” you start, walking into the room towards the girls. “As George said earlier, he’s been stalking everyone. But he’s followed you five more.”

"¡Oh, Dios mío!"

“What the fuck?”

“What does that mean?”

“You four will stay with Ona and me until we find the bastard.”

//

“The maids have your rooms ready. You’ve each got your own, the kitchen is through there, the gym is beside the theater, we’re having dinner by the pool on your left and I wouldn’t go near the east wing if I were you.”

“Sí, gracias,” Alexia says, grabbing her bags and taking the closest room to her. The others follow while Ona sticks around.

“I’m worried for them, bebé.”

“I am too, they’ve just been put into a world that they did not sign up for and it’s all my fault.”

“It comes with the job, amor. These stalkers aren’t something new.”

“I know but, for him to be this close to home makes it a reality I am scared to face.”

She wraps her arms around your neck, caressing the soft hair on your nape. Ona leans in and kisses you chastely, thumbs rubbing your ears softly.

“I know you will do everything possible to keep us safe, bebita. We trust you.”

“Sí, we all do,” Aitana says softly and you both turn to look at her, surprised to see all of them standing there; you hadn’t heard them come in.

“We may not know what you do Y/N, but we know enough that nowhere else is safe but here.”

//

“We’ve got extra guys on the ground, I called in a favor from an old friend of mine and we’ve gotten access to all the camera footage in the stadium that Barcelona has refused to give me. If he’s here, we’ll find him.” You tell the team at training one day, fear of him getting bolder and bolder had spread to the whole team now. Everyone was on edge, scared to go home even; you had arranged for an Airbnb for the rest of the team with the highest security you could buy, even then it didn’t feel like it would be safe till the asshole was found.

A couple of weeks had gone by and every time we got close to catching him, he managed to slip away. It was getting increasingly frustrating, the girls were getting more and more anxious about him potentially getting away with it.

There was a cryptic note on our car last week after training, with pictures of Ona and Ingrid at the park with Zeus, my dog. The letter inside said, “I know your every move before you make it, give up your search and give her to me and maybe I’ll leave the rest alone.”

The picture showed Ona circled in red. There were also five bullets in the envelope; five bullets that belonged to your gun. You knew it did because a. they were a specific size handmade for you and b. your initials were stamped on each case, hidden within the shell upon further inspection.

“George, what the fuck, are you out of your mind?! We’re not using my girlfriend as bait!” You yell, slamming your hand into the table. George sighs, shaking his head.

“Boss, please-”

“We are NOT using her as bait, George!”

“Who?”

Both your heads whip towards the sound of the voice; Ona stands in the door frame of your office in the east wing. She’s not supposed to be here.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” George starts but you raise and hand and point at the door then at him.

“Out,” you tell him before looking at Ona, “Hello, love.”

She sighs and steps aside for George to leave; he closes the door behind him.

“George is right, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I wanted to see you,” she reached out for your hand but she looked a little hesitant, “ever since you’ve been looking for this guy, you’ve been obsessed and so stressed. It’s wearing you out, bebita.”

“I have to find him, Ona. I have to protect you, protect the girls.”

“But you’ve been neglecting me.”

Her tone was sad and dejected, one that pained you to your core. You had been ignoring her, ignoring her needs. She was here and yet you were always in your office or out somewhere working. This guy had taken over your life for a while and you didn’t see the damage he was doing within.

[spencereidluver]

H is for Hold My Hand

october 31, 2008

summary:  You take a cocky, halloween loving Spencer to a haunted house for his first time. He underestimates how scary it actually is going to be, and ends up being taught a very valuable lesson.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: details of a haunted house. nothing  bad though

Spencer Reid was a big Halloween fan. He loved dressing up and going to haunted houses and eating candy. He was a kid at heart, maybe because he never truly had a childhood. 

This year, you decided to take him to a haunted house on the outside of town. It was an old abandoned house that had been boarded up and condemned for years. A few years back, a family bought it and renovated it, turning it into a movie style horror building. It was one of the top spots in the entirety of Quantico during the month of October.

You decided to take your horror-loving boyfriend there as not only a late birthday gift, but also as a way to celebrate halloween. Because let's be honest, two mid-twenty year olds trick or treating isn’t exactly socially acceptable. After going out for a semi-nice dinner, you and Spencer drove 17 miles east to visit the haunted house.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a haunted house,” Spencer said to you. His eyes were focused on the road as he made gentle movements of the steering wheel with his left hand. His right hand rested on the midsection of your thigh, gripping ever so slightly.

“Really?” You said. You ran your fingers over his, following the bumps of his knuckles.

“Nope. I’ve always wanted to go but never had anyone to go with.”

“Well, now you do.” He smiled, turning his head and giving you a quick peck on the lips. It took Spencer a few weeks to get used to kissing you. For a while, he would ask every time. Last week, the two of you went to the theater on a date. As this was a silent audience, he didn’t want to interrupt. About half way through the show, you felt the buzz of your phone. “Can I kiss you?” a text from Spencer read. You couldn’t help but giggle out loud, which got you a few shushes. You didn’t mind too much, leaning over and giving him a big kiss. 

Kissing Spencer was something straight out of a romance novel. He had this certain way about him, he was always so passionate. The way his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours was something unpredictable. You always imagined him being a good kisser, with practice of course, but he’d clearly done research.

Spencer pulled into the parking lot of the destination. The owners of the house tore down the shed in the back to pave an area. It’s almost as if they know they’d be a city-wide success. 

It was still slightly light outside, the sun having yet to set. You wanted to wait until dark to go inside. You wanted Spencer’s first haunted house experience to be memorable. Of course, anything with him was memorable, however, you wanted to make this extra special for him. After all, Halloween was sort of his thing, and you were sort of his girl-thing. 

You grab Spencer’s hand and turn to look at him. “Hey,” you say, ensuring to keep your voice calm and steady, “I’m not saying you will, but if you do happen to get too scared, we can leave.”

“Y/n, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he says. “I work for the damn FBI.”

“I know Spence, but this is different.” “Yeah. It’s fake.”

He really didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Yeah, it’s fake, but it almost makes it more scary. The people here can touch you, and it’s loud, and basically it’s all the stuff you hate grouped into one thing that you somehow love.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you if I’m scared. But I’ll be fine, y/n.”

He was completely clueless. For one, you were going to prove him wrong. You just knew it. The two of you exit the car, meeting in the front and interlocking hands. Spencer rubs his thumb on the back of your palm and swings your arm back and forward with your steps. 

As you approached the steps to the house, Spencer’s hand began sweating. Yeah, he was nervous, but he’d never ever admit it. He liked to seem strong in front of you, though he’d be the first one to cry if he stepped on a bug. There was something so innocent about him. He just, he was different. 

_____

The line to get in was long, but it moved fast. The entryway to the house was filled with those fake spiderwebs. Those always made Spencer sneeze. The majority of your time in there was spent with Spencer’s arm over his mouth and you trying to convince the people ahead of you he wasn’t sick. 

As you approached the entrance to the basement- where the haunted house started- Spencer began to get giddy. He was so excited, like a kid in a candy store. Except he was a Spencer in a scary house that he was allergic to.

You enter the doorway to the steps that lead to the basement. Spencer trails behind you, walking a little slowly and paying careful attention to each spooky detail on the wall. He held a loose grip on your hand and let you lead him down the stairs. 

As you enter the actual attraction his grip tightens significantly. There was a coffin slightly ajar that had fake blood dripping out from the bottom. A plastic severed hand lay at the gape of the door. Spencer inched closer to you and hid his face in your hair. You silently laughed to yourself and continued walking forward.

As you continued through the basement, there was lots of fake blood and red stained sheets covering walls and pieces of furniture. They did a good job of creepifying this place. There was a fog machine plugged in somewhere, and from out of the fog popped a man draped head to toe in blood stained clothing. He jumped out in front of you and Spencer, screaming into your faces. He then ran back into the fog, knocking over a stack of ceramic plates causing a loud crash. Spencer jumped. Literally, jumped. He pressed his body into yours, attempting to hide behind you. You turn around to look at him.

“You sure you can handle this, Spence?” You ask him. “We can leave if you want to.”

“No, I’m fine. Can you just hold my hand?” He answers, looking into your eyes, almost as if he was too scared to grab your hand himself. You smile at him, taking his hand and dragging him to the next room and through the rest of the basement.

_____

next chapter: I is for "I Knew It!"

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

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a/n: hey guyyys sorry it's been a bit since the last chapter, i've been working a lot and had finals. i really hope i'm able to get back on the grind, but no promises. i hope you all are having a good holiday season! also, i would just like to say that chapter M is a christmas themed story, however it is non secular and celebrated for gifts with the team, not the birth of the christian god. i want to try to make all my stories inclusive to whomever and be able to read across all races and religions. have a wonderful night :)

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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie

@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss

@random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

@hookergutss  @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33 @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden

[lovelettersforthedamned]

He’s Mine (For Tonight)

✰ older!tasm!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: a date night after work??? with the man you love?? yes, please.

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of a bruise, a few kisses, mushy gushy fluff, peter is a gentleman but also a downright fool for the reader.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list

⋆ gif by @josshelps

The first few weeks of June brought that humid air that came along with living in the city. Brighter colors seemed to make their way out of the depths of people’s closets while the last bit of leaves sprouted on the trees. With the music playing along in your earbuds, you observe the little things of the changing of seasons. 

You wipe the moisture off your forehead as you’re now aware of how harsh the sun is; the perspiring drink in your hand becomes a mirror image of you. 

The rhythmic beat of the music stops suddenly as Peter’s name appears on the screen. Smiling to yourself, you answer the call, “Hey, Petey.” You know he hates that name, so he isn’t surprised when he hears your smile through the phone as you use the nickname you tease him with. 

“Hey, bug,” he starts, as he leans back in his office chair, his fingers raking through his hair, “do you have any plans tonight?” Peter checks his watch, his work day soon ending as the clock strikes four-thirty. 

You’re turning onto your apartment's street when you think about the coming hours, before shaking your head as if Peter was standing in front of you. You giggle to yourself at the mistake, “I have to let the neighbor's dog out, but either way…there’s nothing,” you reach your front door and push it open, the air conditioning hitting your face, “why? What are you thinking?” Unplugging your phone from your earbuds, you toss your phone onto the kitchen counter and put your boyfriend on speaker. 

“I was thinking of going to that jazz bar over in the East Village,” he pauses as he thinks of the streets, “over on Thirteenth and First Ave.” Peter’s voice echoes throughout the space as you start to change into comfortable clothes. 

Turning your head to hear him better, you can tell he’s walking home now, “Yeah, I’m up for it.” Your voice is raised a bit to make sure he can hear you. “Will your nightly activities interrupt our date night?” 

He huffs a chuckle, “I think the city can give me one night out to spend with my gorgeous girl.” A warmth falls on your cheeks as you smile to yourself. Peter’s always found little ways to make you feel loved, including his way with words. 

Slipping on your slippers, you open the door again to check on your neighbor's dog, your phone pressed to your ear, “I’ll be waiting for you.” A playful tone rings through your voice and makes its way to Peter, causing him to grin. You end the call with your usual ‘I love you’s, and continue to the apartment next door. 

After finishing up with the tiny brown Dachshund, you catch Peter entering your shared apartment. You rush to him and greet him with a kiss, “Welcome home, handsome.” He leans down to give you a quick peck before holding the door open for you. 

✰✰✰✰

By the time you two made it to the bar, it was well past six, and the place was crowded. The red light casts a deep hue onto your skin, something Peter can’t help but notice. You lead him through the crowd, hand in hand, as you find a table near the side of the stage. Peter pulls out your chair for you before you sit, the view of groups of people fills the room with life. 

As you scan the room, Peter can’t help but stare at you. He’s always known you were effortlessly beautiful, ever since the day he met you: but looking at you now, it confirms it. With the sound of the brass instruments playing in the background, he’s awakened from his daze. 

Reaching across the small table, you hold his hand, rubbing your thumb along his slightly bruised knuckles, “You’re the best, do you know that?” 

Now it was his turn for a blush to spread across his cheeks, the red lights covering them, “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?” 

“Maybe,” you look into his eyes, “I just feel like you need to hear it more.” He brings your hand up to his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on the skin on the back of your hand. You were about to say how much you loved him, until a waitress interrupted the both of you, asking for your drink orders. 

You’re both a little surprised as you begin to tell the woman what you want and after she leaves, you look back at Peter and giggle. It felt like you were both teenagers again, getting caught holding hands at the movie theater. With Peter, he still gave you those butterflies that you swore were only for kids. 

For the rest of the night, you two were always within arm's distance. And on the walk home with a few drinks in, the two of you laughed the entire way. You joke that you probably look crazy to onlookers ahead, to which Peter says that he doesn’t care. 

As long as Peter was by your side, you knew everything would be alright, even if his nightly activities made it hard to have him to yourself tonight selfishly. 

⋆ author's note: hi you great and gorgeous people. long time no see! it's been a while, but i think im back? thank you guys for the support during my hiatus!! you're the best. ok, ily bye!!