#before you say anything about how he looks high i need you to know that that is Canon actually. like genuinely

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 5

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Master List

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way.

pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader

word count: 4k or something like that?

(Everyone say ‘thank you’ to @lestapiastrisgirl for beta reading and helping me through late night plot crisis so this can come out today!!)

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source It's been months since @/Lando and @/MissLeClerc have been spotted togtether and we're starting to wonder...are they even together anymore?! Lando was spotted out alone in Monaco, looking annoyed at fans calling his name while his (ex???) girlfriend was papped out and about with none other than...Max Verstappen. Again. Rumors about the LeClerc sister and Dutch driver started to swirl right around the time her and Lando stopped being seen out in public...What do we think, chat??? Has little miss leclerc finally ditched the cocky British pilot for a new Dutch beau??? user029 maybe she got tired of having to parent her boyfriend??? user220 if it's true, she's really upgraded. 4 time world champion vs...what??? 4 time race winner. please. user0298 he never supported her art or anything, i'm not surprised she's moved on. max always looks smitten with her.

“Lando, you have got to get this under control.” The head of McLaren’s communications team hisses, her glare shooting daggers at the driver who’s just walked into the the hospitality building ahead of the race in Belgium. 

Lando glances up from his phone, face pale and eyes worried. “How the fuck am I supposed to control what the gossip pages post?” 

Marina throws her hands up in the air as she paces, her McLaren team kit wrinkled from lack of sleep thanks to the British driver. In the four weeks since your argument with Lando after Austria, things have only gotten worse. You’re still not talking to him and he still hasn’t figured out where the hell you’re living. You’re not staying with Charles and Alexandra or Jade, he’s been subtly watching both buildings. He knows you’re still in Monaco because you’ve been papped out with your family and friends but most maddeningly Max Verstappen. 

Everyone seems to have noticed you’re not living with Lando anymore, your appearances in his streams have dwindled down to nothing. Fewtrell has had to start banning people form his chat because they won’t stop asking about you and what’s going on. Everyone knows that something went down but you’re straight up refusing to behave like an adult and come back to Lando, where you belong and it’s infuriating. 

“You can’t, obviously.” Marina sighs, sitting down at one of the high top tables in the middle of the suite. 

Around her, the Thursday afternoon crew of engineers and communications people buzz, all prepping for their weekends. Everyone seems to be acting normal but Lando can feel their glares on his back as he walks through the building. They all know he’s causing the entire team grief by causing so much drama with you, taking the attention away from the decent start to the year they’d had before all hell had broken loose a few months ago. 

“But,” She continues, leveling a glare at Lando. “You either need to bite the bullet and release a joint statement with her announcing your breakup or you need to get her to the track this weekend and make a big show of a united front. It’s up to you Lando, but you need to do something. I can’t keep saying ‘no comment’ whenever we’re asked about the distraction this is causing the team.” 

Lando pulls at his curls, like hell he’s going to admit that you’d left him. He supposed he could go rogue and release a statement without you. That way he could control the narrative and try to get the fans back on his side if he made something up like a cheating scandal or something. The moment that the thought flutters through his mind, he forces it out. For some fucking reason, the fans seem to have a soft spot for you and it’s maddening. Lando knew there was no way he could get public opinion on his side, not with how he was getting ripped apart on socials right now. 

“We’re not broken up.” He bites out, taking a sip out of his water bottle as he contemplates what he can do. 

Marina glances up from her phone, brow lifted in question. “That’s not what it looks like here.” She turns her phone towards Lando and shows him a photo of you descending the stairs of a private jet that’s just landed in Belgium. In front of you, already down the stairs and waiting on the tarmac for you is your brother with Leo cradled in his arms. 

And behind you? A fiery rage burns bright and hot in Lando’s chest when he sees who’s behind you. 

Fucking Max Verstappen. 

The look you’re giving him makes his heart twist and for the first time since this entire thing began, Lando actually misses you. He misses the way you used to smile up at him like that, like your entire world revolved Lando and no one else. He missed the way your eyes would follow him around a room, how your body would center towards his. The way you looked at Max was how you used to look at him and it made jealousy twist violently deep in Lando’s gut just looking at the photo. 

“I’ll take care of it.” Lando spits before stalking off to the privacy of his drivers room. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source Alexandra, Charles, and his little sister were seen arriving in Belgium this afternoon on Max Verstappen's private jet. It's yet another instance where the LeClerc sister was spotted without boyfriend Lando Norris, sparking new breakup rumors. Neither party has confirmed if they're still together, with McLaren PR insisting that the personal lives of their drivers are off limits. user019 honestly, I'm here for a LeClerc sister & Max relationship. >>>user028 me too. at least Max seems to actually like her, unlike Lando user0029 I mean, we all can see it. Why can't they just confirm it already??? user2333 fully on board the 'get her away from Lando train' ROOTING FOR YOU MAX!!! Get your girl!!! user029 my friend was out at the restaurant they were all at a few weeks ago and said that Lando crashed the dinner but left after a few minutes looking PISSED. >>>user029 honestly, Lando is kind of unhinged rn. get over her my man, move onnnnnnn!

“I can’t believe you got me to agree to come this weekend.” You grumble as you follow Max towards the paddock gates Friday morning before practice. 

“You’ve barely been to any races this year and it’s almost the end of July!” Max shoots over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot he’s so happy you decided to come this weekend. 

“I was at Monaco!” You protest lamely, shoving your elbow into your brother’s ribs when he laughs. 

“You live in Monaco, that doesn’t count Little Dove.” Charles chuckles, rubbing at the sore spot where you’d just assaulted him. 

“Whatever.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. 

After arriving in Belgium last night, you had gone straight to your hotel room, needing a bit of alone time ahead of what you were sure was going to be a stressful weekend. As usual, you’d been papped arriving on Max’s jet, which you were certain Lando had seen because the moment you had checked your messages in the SUV Max had rented for your little group, there had been a text waiting for you from him. 

I know you probably don’t want to see me and I get that. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. Can we please get together this weekend and talk? Somewhere neutral if that’s what you want…

As you settled into the hotel room that was yours for the weekend, a war was being fought in your brain. On one hand, you didn’t trust a single thing coming from Lando’s mouth. Not a single thing. He hadn’t given you any reason to trust anything that he said for months, so why should you start now? But on the other hand…

On the other hand, you and Lando had so much history. His message seemed remorseful. You knew everyone in your life would kill you if you even entertained the idea of getting back with him but somewhere deep in your chest a little voice was saying maybe you should hear him out. He was finally leaving you alone, finally backing off, why did he have to pop up right when you thought you had finally gotten him fully out of your system?

You didn’t tell anyone Lando had texted you. Had been texting you all morning as well. You knew no one would understand. But you also hadn’t returned a single text either. The energy that responding to Lando would take was something that you just didn’t have today. 

Your little group is captured by photographers as you walk in, a few even call out your name asking where you’ll be spending your time this weekend. Since dating Lando, you liked to split your time between the McLaren garage and Ferrari but this weekend was going to be different. Your VIP pass had Charles’ face and name on the back, not Lando’s. You had credentials from Ferrari like normal but this morning, Max had also slipped a Red Bull card around your neck, telling you if you got sick of looking at all that red this weekend, you could spend time with him. 

“Are you going to come to the dark side this weekend and use those Red Bull credentials to whip up some gossip?” Max murmurs in your ear, watching as Charles trots off ahead of you after Leo. 

You bump your shoulder with his, rolling your eyes and laughing lightly. “Stop.”

Mischief plays in Max’s pale blue eyes as he smiles down at you, enjoying the way your cheeks flush under his attention. Ever since the race in Austria a few weeks ago, you and the Dutch driver had been spending a lot of time together, all casual but he’d really begun to look forward to the nights you spent curled up on his couch eating takeout and watching bad reality tv with him. 

Before he has a chance to reply though, he sees the color drain from your face as you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. Whipping his head around, Max searches for what, or more accurately, who has spooked you. He already knows who he’s looking for so when his eyes settle on the McLaren driver standing just outside the sliding glass doors of the McLaren hospitality building across the paddock, his stomach lurches. 

You had known you’d see Lando this weekend. How could you not? This was literally his workplace too. There was no way to avoid him, you knew that but you hadn’t expected to see him so quickly and before you had managed to work out how to respond to his text from the night before. 

Your brother is between where you stand and McLaren’s hospitality so he clocks Lando staring after you at about the same time as you and Max. Turning on his heel, he scoops up Leo and makes a bee line back to where you stand, utterly frozen. 

“Dovie.” Max coos in your ear, twining his fingers with yours in an attempt to pull you out of the state you’re in. “Hey, sweet girl, look at me.” 

You ignore him, gaze locked on Lando’s frozen frame. 

Charles steps in between you and Lando, instantly cutting off your line of sight. This seems to yank you back to reality and your brother snaps into action. “Shit. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. I don’t want her alone.” Your brother sounds panicked, like the way you’re just staring blankly ahead is really freaking him out. 

So, he improvises. “Here, take Leo and go take a walk. There’s tons of open space on the other side of the paddock.” Charles presses the small dog into your hands and you drop your gaze away from Lando for the first time in several moments. 

Your gaze drops to where your hand is still clutched in Max’s larger one. The steady warmth from his presence grounds you, allowing you to pull in a full breath for the first time in several minutes. 

“No, she’s not going off on her own.” Max cuts in, tone sharp. “I’ve got some time before I need to be in the car. Come stay in Red Bull with me until practice, then you can watch from my garage, okay?” 

The force of his words leave little wiggle room for argument and Charles can’t help but smirk a little. He should have known Max would step right up to make sure you were taken care of. 

“Yeah.” You agree weakly, finally tearing your gaze away from Lando, who is still starting at you, light eyes sharp and observant. You can feel the way his gaze drops to where Max’s hand is curled around yours possessively. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Without waiting for Lando to get any more ideas like wanting to try to come talk to you, Max tugs on your hand. He knows you well enough by now to know that you need a distraction and you need it fast. “Come on, you said you wanted to stir up some gossip this weekend, well here’s your chance.” 

You laugh despite yourself, nuzzling your face into Leo’s soft fur. “I’m keeping the dog.” You tell your brother as you allow yourself to be led away by Max. All Charles does is nod, relieved to know that you’re in good hands while he’s busy. 

missleclerc posted

24,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and others missleclerc in my defense, I was kidnapped ☝🏻 maxverstappen1 whatever, you wanted to be there. >>>missleclerc lies. It was a hostage situation. >>>maxverstappen1 is that what the kids are calling it these days? >>>user299 chat, are they flirting in the comments??? WE CAN SEE YOU TWO charlesleclerc can't believe you subjected your nephew to this. please make sure you take a shower before dinner tonight. >>>missleclerc rude. user0209 ya know, I'm kinda here for this ship. >>>user987 did you see how utterly distracted Max was during the one interview where she walked past him? couldn't take his eyes off her >>>user0209 lando's gonna be crashing out after seeing that interview tonight >>>user3443 GOOD. bro deserves it

“I think you may need to roll me up to my room after that dinner.” You groan, rubbing at the food baby making your black leather skirt pinch painfully at your hips. 

After qualifying Saturday evening, when the boys were all finished with their media and team duties, Max had insisted that you, your brother, Alexandra and himself all go out to dinner. He’d wanted to insist it just be the two of you but he wasn’t blind to the gossip you two had stirred up in the paddock Friday afternoon so he’d figured bringing your brother and his girlfriend along would be a bit safer. 

“I think I ate my weight in spaghetti.” Alexandra groans beside you as you plod towards the front doors of the hotel. “Carry me up to the room please, Cha?” She coos, throwing her arms around your brother’s neck as if she can’t go on one step more.

 Charles laughs, snaking his arms around her waist and pulls her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead, a gesture so tender and intimate you have to turn away. Your gaze immediately connects with Max who is standing a few paces behind your brother and his girlfriend. A small smile tips up at the corner of his full lips when you make eye contact at him and your stomach swoops at the affection for you in his eyes. 

You’re imagining things, you think instantaneously. There’s no way Max sees you as anything other than a friend, after everything that you’ve endured while he’s watched. How could anyone like Max be attracted to someone who had spent an entire year drowning in a failing relationship? It was likely a pity smile, something he gives you because he feels sorry that you haven’t found what your brother has found in Alexandra. 

“There you are…” A smooth British accent interrupts your thoughts, jarring you out of your spiral. “You stopped answering my texts.” Lando says pointedly as he joins your little group in the lobby of the hotel. 

Your eyes shutter closed as you blow out a breath. You had been hoping to avoid this confrontation all together but it was just another nail in the coffin of why Max wouldn’t even want to begin to get involved with you in the first place. Why would he willingly want to be with someone who was still so intertwined with her ex still? You’ve spent so long with Lando, were so intertwined with him it would certainly be easier to just go back to him, wouldn’t it? Maybe he was all you deserved after wasting three years of your life. 

“I was at dinner, Lando. It’s rude to text during a meal.” You carefully control the tone of your voice, not wanting to instigate yet another public altercation with him. 

“Ah, yes. I’m sure the company was riveting.” His eyes flicker over to where Max stands, stiff and unmoving, the smile that he’d just been showering you with totally gone from his face. “So, what do you say, can we finally talk like two adults?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Norris.” Charles cuts in, voice sharp and short. 

“I think your sister can answer for herself, LeClerc.” There’s a challenge in Lando’s eyes that you don’t miss and you know you have about five seconds to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. Again. 

Placing your hand on Lando’s elbow, you tug him away. “If you promise to chill out and actually listen to me, we can go to the bar and get a drink. One drink, Lando. Can you do that?” 

If you had been looking at Max then, you would have seen the light flicker out of his eyes. He’s grateful that his hands are tucked away in his pockets when he hears your words because the way the ball up into tight fists would be embarrassing had anyone seen it. He wants to say something, anything, that might convince you to not walk away with him. He wants to tell you how he’s feeling, how this afternoon with you in his drivers room and then garage was the best start to a race weekend he’d had in recent memory. He wants to beg you not to go with Lando. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you how he feels. Max is stuck in this painful sort of limbo where you two spend time together and he craves any bit of attention he can glean from you but it’s not enough for him to risk your fragile state of being right now. He knows you’re still recovering from leaving Lando. Three years is a long time to spend with someone, even if the last year was as painful as Lando had made it for you. He knows you’re not ready for him to tell you how he’s feeling but he’s afraid if he doesn’t, you’ll go running back to Lando. 

While the internal debate about what to do with his feelings rages on inside, Max watches as a cat-like grin spreads slowly across Lando’s face. He’s won. Lando’s won and they both know it. 

“Of course, baby.” 

You bristle at the name but without the energy to fight him, all you do is roll your eyes. Max’s mask of indifference somehow staying in place when he hears the nickname, but it tears him up on the inside. He’s not sure how he manages it. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Max.” Taking a step towards Max, you fold yourself into him, enjoying the way his arms come around your waist without hesitation. The hug is firm and he holds onto you for several moments longer than necessary. 

 “I can stay down here if you want me to.” He murmurs in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, sending a cool shiver of pleasure down your spine. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle him.” 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” He responds, looking down at you. You’re surprised to see a stark look of concern all over his face, like he’s genuinely worried about you. 

“Max, I’m fine. It’s just one drink.” 

But Max knows Lando. It’s not just going to be one drink. But what other choice does he have? Reluctantly, he releases you and takes a step back, forcing himself out of arms length. You instantly miss the grounding warmth of his body and fight to keep your expression neutral. 

Max watches you walk away, shoulder brushing with Lando’s and has to resist the urge to rub at the painful clenching sensation that wraps itself around his heart. 

“You don’t have to watch her leave.” Charles murmurs, standing off to the side with a worried looking Alexandra. They both share Max’s opinion that this is a bad idea but like Max, what else can they say?

Max scrubs at his face, suddenly so overwhelmingly exhausted that all he wants to do is climb into bed and sleep until the race tomorrow. “What am I supposed to do, Charles?” He throws his hands up in defeat as you disappear around the corner just as Lando’s arm slips around your waist. “I don’t have a single claim on her, she’s not mine to miss.” 

His stomach twists painfully at the thought of having to go back to his hotel room knowing you’re touching him. 

“She won’t go back to him.” Charles says with more confidence than Max can muster up himself. “She’s been doing so well lately and we all see it’s partially because of you, mate.”

“Don’t give up on her, Max. Not yet.” Alexandra offers quietly, stepping closer to Charles before reaching out and placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “She’s stronger than we all think but she’s going to need your patience right now. It’ll be okay.” 

The way it physically hurt watching you walk away had alarm bells ringing in Max’s head. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become in the time since you’d left Lando and it terrified him. If you went back to Lando tonight, he had this gut feeling he’d lose you forever and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure that. 

Max barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning for hours trying to convince himself he hadn’t just watched you walk right out of his life again. He knew he was, once again, getting ahead of himself and that he needed to wait before going into full spiral mode but he couldn’t quite get himself there. 

By the time he’s downstairs in the hotel lobby the next morning, waiting for the car that Red Bull had hired for him, he’s exhausted and on the brink of biting someone’s head off. 

“You doing okay over there, Verstappen? You seem a little…irritated.” 

Max turns and has to stifle a groan. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone, Lando?” 

Lando has the nerve to look confused, brows furrowing as he tilts his head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re on about, mate.” 

It takes every ounce of control Max has honed over the years not to punch the British driver square in the face. “Why are you so fixated on her now that she’s finally trying to get away from you?” 

Lando smirks, quick and ugly, before he shakes his head. “See, now that’s where you’re wrong Max.” He reaches over and pats at Max’s shoulder patronizingly. “I don’t think she really wants to get away form me anymore. Not after last night.” 

It feels like the breath has been sucked out of Max’s lungs at Lando’s words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He hisses, heat creeping up his neck. 

“You’re a smart man, Max. Use that big brain of yours. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lando grins like the Cheshire Cat as he shrugs. “Oh look, my ride’s here. Good luck out there today, Verstappen.” 

Without waiting for a response because he knows full well he’s caught Max completely off guard, Lando saunters off, hands deep in his pockets, without a second look back at the Dutch driver. 

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[austinbutlerslovers]

New Neighbor

Label 18+

Summary Your new neighbor is a hot fit biker. The strong silent type, and all you can think about is how to make him yours, because you love a challenge, and you always get what you want.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Handsome new neighbor •Female in heat • promiscuous girl • teasing • Benny playing hard to get • trying to dominate Benny • manhandled by Benny • rough sex • size kink• girl on top • P in V • doggy style • rendered senseless • orgasms • after care

New Neighbor

The first time you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor moving in, you nearly drop the tray of muffins in your hands.

God, was he hot.

Standing at least 6’ ft broad-shouldered with muscled arms exposed under a sleeveless tee, he looked like he’d been carved straight out of some sinful fantasy.

His sandy brown hair was just long enough to curl at the ends, and that goatee? Pure rugged perfection. Add in piercing blue eyes and the Harley parked outside, and you were officially a goner.

He didn’t seem like the chatty type—strong, silent, mysterious even. And if there was one thing you liked, it was a challenge.

You watch him from your kitchen window longer than you intended before deciding theres no way in hell were you going to let the other nosy neighbors get to him first.

You threw together a welcome basket, just an excuse to knock on his door, and maybe—just maybe—see if those biceps felt as good as they looked.

Before heading out, you made sure to tug your top down showing just enough cleavage to grab his attention, then with your heart racing and confidence high, you knocked on his door, basket in hand.

A moment later, the door swung open, and there he was, leaning lazily against the frame, his eyes sweeping over you with keen interest.

Up close, he was even hotter —unfairly good-looking, with a slow, knowing smile that knocked every damn word right out of your mouth.

“Hey,” he drawled, his voice deep and smooth. “What’s this?”

You blinked up at him, your brain scrambling to function.

“I, uh… welcome basket.” You shoved it toward him wide eyed and breathless.“Just a —little something to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering just enough to send a heat rushing through your veins. “Nice of you,” he says, taking it from your hands. “Name’s Benny.”

Your lips curve into a flirtatious smile seeing he’s interested. “If you need anything, Benny, don’t hesitate to ask.” you add, your eyes shamelessly wandering over his biceps. “Any little thing you can think of.”

Benny’s brows lift, and that damn handsome smirk widens even more. “I can think of something right now,” he says stepping aside and ushering you in.

You don’t hesitate, walking inside as he shuts the door behind you.

The place is neat, though distinctly his- a leather jacket draped over a chair, a duffel bag half-unpacked in the corner, and tools spread across the kitchen counter. His riding gloves sit beside an open beer, and a stack of mail is tossed haphazardly on the table.

“Nice place,” you say, sliding onto a stool as he hands you a beer.

“Didn’t think I’d be entertaining this soon,” he smirks, leaning against the counter.

“Am I entertaining?” you tease, taking a sip.

“Oh, you’re somethin’,” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you as you cross your legs, playing up the way your skirt rides up just a little higher than whats modest.

The conversation flows easily, filled with teasing remarks and stolen glances. Benny watches you with a knowing smirk as you lay it on thick, your hand occasionally brushing his arm, your smile lingering as you look at him through your lashes.

At one point, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

You tilt your head innocently. “Why should I?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Woman after my own heart.”

You look away grinning. “And something more.”you admit finishing your beer.

His smirk deepens and there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something careful despite the obvious heat between you.

He’s holding back for such a hard man, with all his strength and rugged intensity— and you can tell.

When you finally leave, you’re half-disappointed he didn’t bend you over the counter and render you senseless like you wanted.

But it was fine—you liked a slow burn, and by the way his eyes lingered on you as you walked away, you had no doubt he was thinking about you, just as much as you were thinking about him.

The sound of Benny’s Harley rumbling to life jolts you awake. You scramble to the window in the morning, watching as he straddles his Harley, his muscles flexing under his tee. He looks like a goddamn dream, and you bite your lip, watching him drive off.

Today was the day. You were gonna look cute, you were gonna see him again, and this time, he wasn’t gonna be able to resist you.

You throw on the tiniest pair of shorts you own, tie a tee at the waist, and step outside—only to realize the sky has darkened and the air is heavy with moisture.

A drizzle starts, and as you glance toward Benny’s porch, you spot his laundry still hanging on the line.

Then, like the universe is testing you, the sky opens up.

“Shit,” you mutter, dashing toward his laundry, snatching towels and jeans off the line as the rain soaks through your own clothing in the process.

You’re hauling an armful of damp clothes toward his door when the rumble of his engine startles you.

Benny pulls up just as you reach the porch, dismounting smoothly. He takes one look at you, drenched and clutching his laundry, and smirks.

“That’s cute,” he says, striding over to help.

“I wasn’t gonna let your stuff get ruined,” you insist stepping inside as he holds the door open for you.

He follows, shaking off the rain as you both drop the clothes onto the counter. The air between you shifts—humid and thick with something unsaid.

You glance at him, both of you soaked, his shirt clinging to the hard lines of his chest as he watches you, the water dripping down your form, your shirt practically see-through, your breaths coming in short, uneven pants.

“Persistent little thing, aren’t you?” He says his voice low and filled with quiet longing.

You meet his gaze, pulse hammering as every nerve in your body ignites with anticipation. “I always get what I want Benny,” you whisper, stepping closer, your hands sliding over his firm biceps.

A smirk plays at his lips as he takes you in, his blue eyes dark with desire. “You’ve got me,” he says, his voice low and rough and before you know it, his hands are on your waist gripping you close as his mouth crashes against yours.

The force of him steals your breath, his body hard and unyielding as he walks you backward toward the bedroom.

Clothes come off piece by piece, your hands trailing down his toned chest until you lay back on his bed. He unbuttons his jeans, holding them at the waist as you slip your panties down.

You watch, breathless, as he digs through a drawer, retrieving a condom and when he finally pushes his jeans down, your eyes widen as they slide down his hips, your breath hitching at the size of his cock.

He grins at your expression. “Better than you imagined?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks. “M-much more,” you stutter, barely able to form words.

His smirk deepens as he rolls the condom on slow and patient as his gaze locks on yours. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart.”

He climbs over you, his abs flexing with each movement, every curve of his body defined and powerful. The length of his cock brushes against your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth against your skin as he positions himself above you, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up.

But you’re not about to let him take control that easy.

You push against his chest, surprising him as you force him onto his back. He lets you, his grin widening as he settles against the mattress, his hands immediately finding your waist, holding you firm.

“You gonna take me?” he grins his eyes dark with amusement and something more dangerous.

“Mmhmm” you say defiantly biting your lip as you climb onto him, straddling his hips.

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling the firm ridges of muscle beneath your fingertips as you slowly lower yourself down on him. His cock is thick, stretching you wide, forcing a deep moan from your lips as your body adjusts to the sheer size of him.

“C’mon, sweetheart, take me,” he taunts, his voice thick with heat. As you struggle his hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples as he thrusts up into you, making you gasp the stretch so deep it makes your eyes squeeze shut.

He keeps goading, bucking his hips, filling you deep and you moan taking each hard thrust until you regain your senses, practically bunny bouncing on him.

“Fuck thats it ,” he rasps, watching your body take him. “Look at you.”

You do—you watch him, watch the way his jaw clenches, the way he pants, the way his hands grip your hips firm as you begin to ride him harder. He meets you thrust for thrust, his groans of satisfaction driving you faster.

“Taking me good,” he grunts, his eyes locked on yours, his praise making your body burn hotter as the room fills with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your breathless moans and Benny’s deep, husky praises.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his hands, squeezing your hips claiming you harder. “Doing real damn good.”

You shudder your head tipping back as you orgasm rocking your hips against him in sweet bliss.

Suddenly, the room spins as Benny flips you onto your back in one fluid motion, his strength sending a thrill through your dazed body. Your hands fly up, and he grips your wrists in one hand, pinning you as he kneels between your thighs, positioning himself once more.

“You didn't take me all the way” he rasps. “Now I gotta finish what you started” he breathes, his cock pressing insistently at your entrance.

“Please Benny,” you practically moan and your eyes roll back as he pushes into you all over again, stretching you to the brink, satisfying you so deep you can hardly breathe.

He grips your wrists firm, his muscles flexing hard as he slams against you, each thrust making the bed creak as you wail, your cries filling the air loud enough to wake the neighbors.

The pressure of his cock, the intensity of him, it’s almost too much—but you don’t want him to stop.

You come in seconds, your hips pushing up as your orgasm rolls through you, the pleasure so high it steals every bit of breath from your lungs.

The second your body slacks, he pulls out, only to flip you onto your stomach, making you gasp as he drags the thick head of his cock through your slick heat before pushing back in with one deep claiming stroke.

The bed shakes as he takes you from the back, his hands pulling you into every hard unrelenting thrust as he fucks you incoherent against the mattress.

“Benny,” you moan, your face flushed, your cheek pressed to the sheets as the bed rocks beneath you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he fucks you harder, faster, rendering you senseless, each snap of his hips, pushing you deeper into mind-numbing bliss.

“This what you wanted?” he demands his voice loud and rough.

You whimper, desperate, breathless, your fingers clutching at the sheets. “Yes—Benny—y-es,” you cry, barely able to form words as he pounds into you over and over, his pace unrelenting pushing you past every limit.

His rough fingers find your clit and your eyes roll back as he goes harder, deeper, until all you can do is moan, your body shuddering as he finally groans, burying himself deep, his release pulsing from his cock as you come together.

For a moment, all that fills the room is ragged breathing.

Then Benny laughs breathlessly pulling out, your body aching from the loss, “Damn sweetheart,” he exhales laying onto his back. “Hope you didn’t have any plans after this.” He says pulling you to his chest.

You grin, looking up at his handsome face, your body weak and spent. “I think you just made ‘em for me, Benny,” you confess, and as he looks at you his blue eyes darken. He pulls you in for a long lingering kiss, pouring all his feelings into it, already hooked on you—Because you like a challenge and you always get what you want.

END 🏍️

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[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

part two (soon)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual themes (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2.1k+

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[honeyryewhiskey]

mirrored souls

or, dean dreams of what he believes he can never have. warnings ! angst, hurt/some comfort, dean's feelings are hurt, unexpected pregnancy, tough conversations, two ppl with the same fears j's note ! hey so let's not even talk about the fact that this is neither of the two fics i posted snippets of lol idk what possessed me to write 5k fucking words for this i'm sorry i just want to baby trap dean winchester erm idk enjoy? it's sad but maybe pls dont take my word for it i'll continue this and let them be happy also i stopped proof reading half way through bc it is my bed time <3 5k words

He’s had this dream every night for weeks. 

The sun is golden, thick with warmth, stretching over endless fields of green. It settles on his skin like an old friend, seeps into his bones, loosening the ever-present tension in his shoulders. The air is clean, carrying the scent of wildflowers and summer, and for the first time in his life, he feels safe. Like he could lie back in the grass, close his eyes, and let the world move on without him.

Then, he hears her.

A laugh—small and weightless, like wind chimes in a summer breeze—rings through the stillness. It stops him cold, strikes something deep in his chest that he doesn’t know how to name.

He turns, and she’s there.

She can’t be older than four, standing barefoot in the grass, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes—green as polished emeralds, too big for her little face. His eyes.

But everything else—her delicate nose, the slope of her cheekbones, the way her wild hair frames her face—that’s you.

She tilts her head, smiling in a way that makes something inside him shatter. Then she reaches for him, small fingers wrapping around his calloused hand like she’s always belonged there.

And just like that—like the break of a wave, like the snap of a thread—she’s gone.

Dean wakes with a sharp inhale, the remnants of warmth already fading, replaced by the cold press of reality. His chest aches, heavy with something deeper than longing. A quiet, creeping fear slithers in, curling around his ribs.

Because she has his eyes and your face—a combination that will never exist.

You left. And you haven’t come back in months.

It was always cat and mouse with you—years of fleeting moments, an unspoken desire for more that neither of you had the courage to face. You’d cross paths, use each other's bodies to release some tension, but never linger long enough to ignite anything real. 

Until about eight months ago, when everything changed. You stayed longer than just a weekend. Dean had you in his arms for four months—four months that felt like a lifetime of stolen moments, of finally letting down walls you both had built so high. But when it all started to feel too real, when the weight of it all settled between you like an unspoken truth, you pulled away. You told him it was too much, that you needed space, that you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to breathe, to step back before it swallowed you whole. And with that, you walked away, leaving him to sift through the pieces of something that was never meant to last.

His heavy hand slams down on the bleating alarm clock beside his bed. The sharp noise cuts off, leaving only the ragged sound of his breathing in the dark. He drags a hand down his face, fingers pressing into his tired eyes, but it doesn’t do anything to clear the remnants of the dream—the sunlight, the laughter, the way she looked at him like he was her whole damn world.

Dean exhales sharply and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Another short night, another dream of something that doesn’t exist, of someone who will never be real. He tells himself it’s just a trick of the mind, a byproduct of too many years spent running on empty. But the truth—the one he won’t say out loud—is that the dreams never started until you left.

And maybe that’s what makes them feel more like a haunting than a fantasy.

He’s spent each day the past four months trying to shove it down, burying it under booze and hunts and half-hearted distractions. But it doesn’t matter how many times he tells himself he’s over it, that he saw it coming. Because he did. He knew you would run the second things got too real, the second you got too close, too comfortable, like maybe you wanted this life with him.

And then, just like his dream, you were gone.

You never said it outright, but he knew—deep down, you were always more like him than you wanted to admit. Built for the road, for the chase. Love wasn’t something you stayed for.

Except you never really left, not completely.

Every now and then, his phone would ring, and it’d be your voice on the other end—casual, distant, asking about a hunt, about a lead on something nasty you were tracking. Always avoiding the bigger conversation, never asking how he’s been, never giving him the chance to ask where you are.

And Dean let it happen. Let you keep him at arm’s length. Because at least this way, you were still something in his life.

But now, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, the dream still fresh in his mind, it pisses him off.

He stands, yanking on a t-shirt and running a hand through his hair before heading for the door. He just needs coffee—something to shake off the lingering ache sitting heavy in his chest.

But the second he steps into the hall, Sam is there, hovering with that anxious look that never means anything good.

“Hey,” Sam starts, lifting a hand like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Before you go in there, just—don’t freak out, okay?”

Dean’s stomach tightens, his muscles tensing. The look he cuts Sam with makes the younger brother’s eyes widen, searching for words to mediate and settle the storm brewing at either side of him. “Sam, what the hell are you—”

Before Sam can answer, Dean hears it.

The sound of pacing. Quick, uneven steps against the kitchen floor. His body goes still, his breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t need to see you to know.

You’re here.

Dean’s pulse pounds in his ears. His stubborn rage choking out the glimmer of childish hope that sets his nerves on fire. He stares at Sam, waiting for some kind of explanation, but Sam just shifts on his feet, uneasy.

That’s when another sound cuts through the silence—your voice.

Muffled, pacing, like you’re muttering to yourself between shallow breaths.

Dean swallows hard, his jaw clenching as he pushes past Sam. His mind is already racing, his thoughts a tangled mess of you, his dreams, his heartache and the damn voice in his head telling him to grip you tight enough so that you can’t leave him again. Whatever this is, whatever brought you back, he’s not in the mood for it. Not today. Not after all this time.

But when he steps into the kitchen, the world tilts on its axis.

You freeze mid-step, eyes wide, hands curled tightly around the edge of the counter as if you’re holding yourself together, bracing for something. For him, maybe. Your posture is rigid, your whole body taut with tension. You look… different. There’s an unreadable heaviness in the way you stand, the nervous bite of your lip as you chew it—like you’re preparing for a blow, for him to lash out, to reject you. 

A heavy silence falls over the room, thick and suffocating. His heart hammers in his chest, but there’s no anger now, no easy target to aim it at. Just this painful, aching pull between what he wants and what he’s afraid to hope for.

“You…” He’s barely able to get the word out. His throat feels tight, words caught somewhere between anger and something much softer, something more dangerous. He’s not sure which one is scarier.

You glance at him, then quickly look away, the uncertainty in your eyes like a crack in a mirror he never thought he’d see. Dean feels something in his chest twist—familiar, painful, like it’s been waiting for you to come back and break him open all over again.

His mind is a whirlwind. He wants to be angry—hell, he’s had four months of anger built up over your disappearing act. But standing here, with you so close, he realizes just how torn he is inside.

He wants to scream at you, demand to know why you didn’t come back sooner, why you couldn’t have just stayed. But that’s not the real question, is it? Because deep down, a part of him knows it wasn’t just you who ran. It was him, too. He shut off long ago, convincing himself it was easier that way. He was easier that way.

But you? You always seemed to slip through his defenses.

Dean stares at you, struggling to find his voice, his hands suddenly feeling useless at his sides. The walls he’s built up for his entire life—years of anger, bitterness, and pain—are cracking, piece by piece, and he has no idea how to stop it.

Dean crosses his arms, trying to shove down the storm already brewing inside him. “Well,” his voice is rough with sleep and something dangerously close to hurt. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Your spine straightens, and just like that, the tension shifts. Whatever nerves had you pacing seconds ago are buried under the sharp edge of your own attitude. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly plan on it either.”

Dean scoffs, a bitter chuckle, the undertone to the eye roll he throws you. “Oh, great. That makes me feel real special.”

“I…” You hesitate, fingers digging into the edge of the counter before you let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, Dean. I don’t know if this is the right thing, or if I’m just—” you stop yourself, biting your lip again. You were never as good as he was at hiding your pain. It’s evident now, in the vulnerability in your eyes that cuts through him, raw and unguarded, and it makes everything inside him spin faster.

Sam clears his throat. “Why don’t I give you guys some space?” He glances between the two of you, clearly ready to escape the tension.

Dean doesn’t look at him, just stares at you as you stand firm, the scowl on your face trying desperately to cover the sadness in your eyes. The fact that you’re asking for anything at all should piss him off. After months of the half-hearted check-ins that only ever came when you needed something, after the way you left—why should he give you the time of day?

But he can’t say no.

And that scares him more than anything.

Sam nods to himself when neither of you protest and slips out of the kitchen, leaving you and Dean in thick, suffocating silence.

“Why are you here?” His voice comes out quieter than he intended, but the question hangs in the air, laced with something deeper, something that sounds too much like hope. A falsehood he’s terrified to acknowledge.

You take a shaky breath, your shoulders slumping just slightly, as if the weight of being in the same room as him is too much to carry alone.

Dean takes a step toward you, his feet heavy on the floor, his chest aching. His instincts shout at him to pull away, to protect himself from the inevitable hurt, but something else—something buried deep inside him—begs him to go closer.

The words come out before he can stop them, quieter now, barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do this again, are we gonna keep pretending we have nothing to talk about?”

You wince, a flicker of pain crossing your face, and it rips through him. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he can’t stop the words. He can’t stop the fear, the resentment, that’s built up over all this time.

"I don't know if I can just act like nothing ever happened between us. Like you didn't leave me. Like..." His voice breaks off, his throat thick with emotion he’s been swallowing for far too long. He’s not even sure who he’s trying to convince anymore, you or himself.

His hands are trembling now, and he clenches them into fists, fighting to keep the storm inside him contained. But every time he looks at you, sees the way you’re standing before him, so tired and lacking the fire that he always adored. That you’re here now when he never thought he’d see you again, it pulls him under a wave of emotion he can’t quite place.

“I don’t know how to do this, not after everything,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “You can’t just waltz back in here and expect me to be okay with it.”

Your eyes fill with regret, but there's something else too—a quiet understanding. You know what you’ve done. You know what this looks like, but still, you're standing here. And that small, painful spark of hope flickers in the pit of his stomach.

“Can we just sit and talk, please?” Your voice is soft, pleading. And this time, you don’t look away.

Dean stands there, his whole body tense, his mind screaming conflicting words in the crosshairs—walk away, stay. But something in your gaze, in your quiet desperation, tugs at him. For a moment, he’s paralyzed—conflicted in the most unfamiliar way.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nods. “Fine. But we talk,” he jabs a finger at you, his brows set with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, “really talk. No more running.”

You nod, your shoulders relaxing, just slightly, and Dean wonders, not for the first time, if maybe—just maybe—he’s still capable of believing in the possibility of this. Of you.

His eyes narrow, the weight of years of unresolved anger and hurt pressing down on him. But despite it all, despite everything you put him through, he can’t seem to dig his heels into this anger. Not when you’re standing here, so close, with those big, pleading eyes that always seemed to strip him bare.

The years of touch and go, the broken promises, the words left unsaid—they all float between you, a suffocating fog that neither of you knows how to break. But Dean’s tired. Tired of fighting this pull, this pull toward you he can’t seem to ignore, no matter how many times you leave.

With a frustrated sigh, he crosses the kitchen, the hard floor beneath his boots clacking louder than it should. He grabs two chairs from the worn wooden table, scraping them across the linoleum as he sets them down. Wordlessly, he nods toward the seat beside him.

“Sit,” he mutters, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.

You stand there for a moment, the air between you thick with things left unsaid. And then, quietly, you take the seat next to him.

Dean can feel the weight of the moment in every fiber of his being. He doesn’t want to look at you. Not yet. Not until he’s ready to hear whatever it is you came to say.

The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, as you sit side by side, neither of you knowing how to begin.

Finally, you clear your throat, a small sound, but it’s enough to break through the tension. “Look, I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But… can we just talk, like we used to? No games. No running away this time, okay?”

Dean stares at the table in front of him, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge. Your words hit harder than he expected, and for a second, his chest tightens with something raw and unfamiliar.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore, you know?” he says quietly, almost to himself. “Every time you leave… it’s like you take a piece of me with you. And I’m just left here picking up the pieces, wondering if you’ll ever come back.”

You wince at the admission, and it hits him harder than he wants to admit. He doesn’t know why he said it—maybe because this is the first time in years that you’re actually sitting here, facing him. Maybe because it’s the first time in years that he feels like you might actually be willing to stay.

You reach out, placing a tentative hand on his, stilling the tapping. And for a brief moment, his breath catches.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Dean,” you say softly. “I never wanted to be another person who hurts you.”

to forget the months of silence, the aching space you left behind. He wants to pull you close, bury his face in your neck, and pretend none of it ever happened—that you never walked away, that he never let you.

But reality crashes down just as fast.

He can’t let himself go there, can’t let himself believe this is something he can have without it slipping through his fingers. So instead, he exhales sharply, shoving that fragile part of himself deep down where it belongs. His jaw tightens, and when he finally speaks, his voice is rough, edged with his angry armor.

“Then why did you leave?” he grits out, his voice quiet but commanding. He needs to know. Needs to understand why the person he thought he might finally let himself love disappeared without a trace.

You pull your hand back, lips pressed tight. “I—”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, like the weight of months spent apart. Dean’s still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening, why you’re here, why you’re sitting beside him, but something shifts in your expression.

You take a deep breath, eyes falling to your lap before lifting to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words soft but full of weight. “I’m sorry for always running off. For disappearing when things got too real. I know it’s not fair.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t know what to say, what to feel.

“I was scared,” you continue, voice breaking just a little. “I still am. I…” Your words falter, but then you press on, searching his eyes for understanding. “I was consumed with this fear of losing it all. That I’d attach myself to you and this life would rip you away.”

The quiet admission sits heavy in the air. Dean feels his heart thudding faster beneath his rib cage. A pang of regret washes over him, for never admitting he shared that fear. That he thought he would be the thing that rips you apart. And maybe if he had, you wouldn’t have felt alone in those thoughts. 

You run a hand through your hair, a nervous gesture, and he watches the movement, the tension in your body. “I didn’t think I could do this. I didn’t think we could do this. I don’t see a world where something like that survives,” you shake your head, lost in the thoughts that shuffle through as you try to find your words, “Where… where we get a happy ending.”

Dean feels his chest tighten, his pulse speeding up as he takes in what you’re saying. The words hang between you, both of you holding your breath. And for a long, painful moment, the only sound in the room is the distant hum of the refrigerator, a constant reminder that time is still moving, even when it feels like everything’s frozen in place.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want it, Dean,” you add quickly, your voice cracking. “I just—I don’t know how to believe it’s possible. But I didn’t come here to ask for you to take me back.”

Dean stares at you, his pulse hammering against his ribs. There it is—that damn crack in your voice, the one that always cuts through him like a blade. He wants to be angry, to hold onto the bitterness that’s been festering since you left, but it slips through his fingers the second he sees the way you’re looking at him. Like you’re scared. Like you don’t expect him to want this.

Like you don’t expect him to want you.

His throat tightens, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to reach for you. “Then what do you want?” His voice is quieter now, rougher. “If you’re not here to ask me for anything, then why come back?”

You open your mouth, then close it, searching for words. Your fingers twist in the hem of your jacket, your shoulders curling inward, like you’re bracing for him to tear you apart. And damn it, that does something to him, because he’s never wanted to be the reason you look like that.

Dean drags a hand down his face, trying to ground himself. His mind is a battlefield, waging war between the fear clawing at his insides and the need to fix this—fix you. But how the hell is he supposed to do that when he’s still not sure how to fix himself?

“You don’t know how to believe it’s possible?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, join the damn club.” His chest feels too tight, his voice breaking under the weight of it. “You think I had some fairytale idea of us, sweetheart? That I thought this would be easy?” He lets out a breath that’s more of a laugh, humorless and hollow. “Hell, I don’t even know if I’d be any good at this. But you didn’t give me the chance to figure it out, did you?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, a tear slipping down your cheek before you can stop it. And God, he hates that. He hates seeing you cry. Hates even more that he’s the reason for it.

“I was scared,” you whisper, your voice breaking apart like shattered glass. “I am scared.”

Dean swallows hard, his anger flickering, giving way to something deeper, something more painful. He’s scared too. He’s scared as hell. Of not being enough. Of screwing this up. Of losing you all over again.

But when he looks at you—when he sees the way you’re trembling, barely holding yourself together—it hits him. He’s not the only one drowning in this.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair before finally, finally stepping forward. His hands hover for a second before settling on your arms, grounding you. Grounding himself.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, softer now, “I guess we can be scared together.”

You drag the backs of your hands across your cheeks, trying to contain the tears that just won’t stop flowing. “No, Dean, you don’t get it—” you cut yourself off with a groan. Your breathing is coming out uneven as anxiety pulls at your every nerve, and suddenly you can’t sit still. You can’t do this. 

You’re up on your feet again, pacing slightly as you try to steady your breathing. 

Dean watches you, his stomach twisting as you distance yourself. There’s a wild, frantic energy in the way you move, your arms wrapping around yourself like you’re trying to hold yourself together. Your breath is uneven, shaky, and those damn tears keep slipping past your lashes no matter how hard you try to blink them away.

His fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach for you again, to do something—anything—to stop that panicked look from overtaking your face. It melts his resolve, steadies his rising temper.

His voice comes quieter this time, hesitant. “Hey—what’s going on?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, shaking your head as if you can will away whatever storm is raging inside you.

Dean’s chest tightens. His mind is running through every possibility, each one worse than the last. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, the pet name easing off his tongue as if no time had passed since he last called you that, “talk to me.”

"I... I didn't catch it in time, I'm sorry." You start, your voice barely more than a whisper, the words thick with something he can't quite name. Your eyes squeeze shut as if the simple act of speaking is too much.

Dean’s chest tightens, a knot of confusion twisting in his stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?” His tone is gentle now, trying to coax it out of you, but the moment you raise your eyes, he sees it—the fear, raw and trembling beneath the surface.

He’s on his feet again, closing in on you like you’re a scared animal that’ll take flight from any sudden movement. 

“I just thought it was stress making me miss my period again, but…” You choke, your voice cracking as if admitting it out loud is tearing something inside you apart.

Dean’s breath hitches, and his heart races, but he doesn’t dare interrupt you, his own confusion giving way to a growing sense of dread. He takes another step toward you, but you flinch, eyes shimmering with tears that slip through your heavy breathing.

You finally break, the tears turning into sobs that shake your shoulders. You shake your head, wiping at your face again, as if trying to push it all away. But it’s too late now.

“I’m scared, D.” You gasp the words out, the weight of them crushing you. “I’m so scared.”

Dean’s chest tightens, a cold sensation creeping down his spine, even as his heart lurches in his chest. He can feel the tremor in your voice, the rawness in every syllable, but he can’t make sense of it. The world seems to slow, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place—but not quickly enough for his mind to catch up.

“What… What are you saying?” He asks, his voice quiet, strained with confusion and something that feels dangerously close to panic.

You glance up at him, eyes wide and glassy with tears. You open your mouth, but the words seem stuck, lodged in your throat. The silence between you is deafening.

Finally, you take a deep breath, almost like you’re gathering the strength to face something unbearable. “I’m pregnant, Dean.” The words fall from your lips in a broken whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

Dean freezes. His entire body goes still, as though he’s forgotten how to breathe. The weight of your words hits him like a freight train, and for a moment, everything goes silent except for the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

Pregnant.

His mouth goes dry, his thoughts scrambling, trying to make sense of it all. The pieces click into place—the missed periods, the way you looked at him when you walked in, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes.

His dreams.

 He takes a half-step back, his mind too far behind, too rattled by the weight of what you just said.

And then, slowly, it hits him—this isn’t just a shock; it’s a bombshell. One that could tear everything apart, and yet, at the same time, it pulls something from him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The edges of his world begin to blur. He’s scared. He’s terrified.

“Are you… are you sure?” His voice comes out rough, almost panicked, like he’s waiting for you to tell him this is some sick joke, but he knows it’s not.

You nod, sniffling. "I took a test, I went to the doctor and they told me I was already four months along." you whisper, choking back a sob. "I didn’t know what to do."

Dean steps closer, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. But you flinch again, the space between you thick with everything you’ve never said to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you. I could have just called, I should have—” Your voice cracks, and you finally meet his gaze, eyes full of everything—regret, fear, and a raw, aching vulnerability that threatens to break him.

Dean's heart races, the panic starting to crawl up his throat. He wants to scream, to tell you that he’s terrified—that he doesn’t know how to be a father, that he’s too broken, too fucked up to raise a kid. The thought of something happening to you, to your child, terrifies him in ways he can’t even put into words. But you’re standing there, so small, so vulnerable, looking at him like he’s the only one who can fix this. And damn it, he has to be strong.

He closes the distance between and pulls you into his arms before either of you can second guess it. His hands are warm and steady on your back, but inside, his mind is a storm. His pulse is erratic, his breath shallow, but he holds you close, trying to give you the comfort he doesn’t know how to find for himself.

“Hey,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice like a lighthouse to steer your sinking ship. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone in this.”

You shake your head against his chest, a shaky breath escaping. “I’m so scared, Dean. I don’t know what to do.”

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression soft but full of intensity. His thumbs pushes away your tears, warm and rough against your skin. “You don’t have to know right now,” he assures you, trying to convince himself as much as you. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. I’m here, okay? We’ll get through this.”

Inside, though, his mind is spinning out of control. He doesn’t know how to be the man you need. He doesn’t know if he can even be the father this child deserves. But in this moment, he’s all you have. And somehow, he knows that no matter how badly he’s freaking out, no matter how scared he is, he’ll find a way to make this work—for you, for the little life growing inside of you.

He gently strokes your hair, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, grounding himself in the act. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispers again, his voice thick with the promise of something more than just words.

But inside, the panic churns, a rising tide he can’t escape. He holds you tighter, pretending for your sake that everything will be fine, even as the weight of the world presses down on him.

edit to add tags why do i always forget tags @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @snowluvvie @ultravi0lence14

[buck-up-buttercup]

So we all know how protective and possessive Caleb is. I want to write some head-canons on how he perceives and responds to people showing interest in MC (you) throughout the years.

As a child, Caleb had a fierce obligation towards protecting you from bullies. He even went so far as to lock you in an attic to prevent you from getting caught up in a fight with those twerps (reference Rain's Embrace). Especially with how fool-hardy you could be, he knew to keep you out of it completely. The bullies he mentions fending off would have been more than eager to play with a cute girl such as you. Caleb didn't like how rough they could be with you, obviously lacking respect towards a young girl who wanted to "run with the boys" as you so claimed. And of course, you only wanted to because Caleb could. But Caleb could handle himself and unfortunately, he couldn't juggle fending these kids off and keeping you unscathed in the mix of things. He needed to prove to these kids that he was not to be messed with and neither were you. That day, he made it doubly clear that no kid was to mess with you. He never fully explains to you the scuffle he went through to gain this sort of respect, but he won't ever forget learning to take advantage of his Evol to use against someone for the first time... and of course, that first time was for you. Everything he did was for you, somehow.

As a high-schooler, Caleb had many admirers and thus received many gifts and notes in school. You were always a little put off by it. You always thought Caleb was cute, but you didn't realize just how cute until his admirers showered him with attention. You also joked with him about being jealous that he received so many gifts on holidays from secret (or sometimes not-so-secret) admirers while you were left with none. He'd quickly play it off with a smile, claiming you could have all of his gifts if you wanted them since he had no interest in any of his admirers. Besides, he always provided you with the most thoughtful and personable gifts, so was it really so bad? Quality vs quantity, after all. He'd be sure that you would never know about him going behind your back to scare the life out of any teenage boy who so much as looked your way. One instance would have been in PE when the boys were having their typical "locker talk." Caleb wasn't one to join in on such conversations... until you were brought up one day. Some dumb boy would talk about checking you out and Caleb would immediately chime in, "keep her out of your filthy conversation. If I hear anyone say anything demeaning about her, they're going to regret it. Got it?" The boys would be wide eyed and agree not to speak about you. Even if there were some jocks involved, they knew better than to try to one-up someone with Caleb's stature. Not only was he a well-liked and high-achieving student, he was very athletic and a fairly large guy. Caleb also intercepted any guy who tried making a move on you. At one point, you had a sweet guy start to show a liking towards you. You expressed your disappointment to Caleb when this guy suddenly avoided you after his feelings were admitted to you. Caleb would just shrug his shoulders and say, "his loss, pipsqueak." Meanwhile, he'd secretly be proud of himself for scaring the poor guy off after Caleb posed a light-hearted threat at him. "So, you like her?" The guy would confirm and Caleb would nod thoughtfully before adding, "then you need to stop. She's not for you to have." He'd smile politely but his eyes would be sharp as daggers, "Kay?" The guy would take the hint real fast and run.

As a college student, Caleb has some good friends from the Aerospace Academy. One of the boys would say something about the "pretty girl in Caleb's photos" on his moment posts. Caleb wouldn't respond much to this, though he would say something if they followed your profile. "Don't be weird," he'd warn. When meeting you for the first time, they'd be chivalrous. Afterwards, they would definitely tease Caleb for not letting them have a chance with you. He'd roll his eyes at this but would definitely need to take his frustrations out later, whether it be through working out or diving into his schoolwork to distract himself. It bothers him that others see how precious and pretty you are. On the one hand, it makes him proud to know and be so close to such a beautiful and lovely person. On the other hand, he wished he lived in a world where it was just the two of you so no one else could come in between you. His anxieties would only heighten once he thought about the potential pursuers you had at your own college. His head hurt as much as his heart just thinking about it.

As a colonel, Caleb would have strong jealousy towards the multiple men in your life. When he finds out how close you've grown with Zayne after the explosion, he'd feel regretful. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, especially as he harbored the guilt of causing you such pain from disappearing and having you believe him dead. Once he learns about your partnership with Xavier and how he's neighbors with you, he'd feel annoyed. He wouldn't like how often you'd need to work with Xavier, and now you two could even walk home together or see each other at your own apartment complex whenever? Ugh. Frustrating. Rafayel would get on his nerves as well, making his temper flare up. Why do you even need to be around this famous artist? Especially one with a bounty. He would not like the messages he'd see on your phone from Rafayel. He'd contemplate blocking his number on your phone but didn't have a good enough excuse to... so he simmered with anger silently. Sylus is by far his least favorite person you're associated with, though. Being in cahoots with the leader of Onichynus only spelt out trouble in his mind. He would chastise you on the sort of company you keep. He'd be adamant about knowing your whereabouts and to never go into the N109 Zone without him knowing of your exact location and an itinerary of what you'd be doing and who you'd be seeing. This is only because you refused to have him escort you himself since this was "Hunter business" and you could handle yourself... which he highly doubted, but he knew better than to belittle you now that you were an adult and a capable Deepspace Hunter. At the end of the day, Caleb just wants you safe and the only way he can curb his anxieties is by keeping you under his watch and care as often as possible.

Though the man is endearing, he can be downright suffocating. But why wouldn't you want to drown in all the love and care he showers you under? MC doesn't always realize just how deep his love runs for her.

[ghostgirl-22]

Tashi and/or Art’s physiotherapist walking in (Art’s room, a locker room, gym, whatever) to find Art and Patrick in just their underwear scrambling to get dressed after having sex.

Yes I could see it anon! Post challenger.

Tashi insists Art and Patrick go out to get a drink or something and try to reconnect since they haven’t really talked to each other in over a decade. Art goes because deep down he misses Patrick but he’s still reserved thinking they’re just gonna talk for an hour.

By hour four they’re drunk and giggling like they’re in high school again. And at 1am when the place is closing they’re still reminiscing so Patrick invites Art back to his place.

Art pings his location to Tashi with a note that he’ll be home soon, but they’re still catching up. They end up hanging out on Patrick’s motel bed. Watching an old movie on cable. Splitting a beer. And before Art realizes what’s happening he’s kissing Patrick. He pulls back shyly. Saying sorry. And Patrick just smiles and climbs on top of him. Then they’re kissing more. Touching all over. Art losing all sense of self in the pursuit of pleasure. Shaky fingers covered in lube. Fucking into Patrick because he needs it. He doesn’t even know how many times they do it. Just knows he’s waking up hungover, butt naked and pleasantly sore in Patrick’s bed to the sound of knocking. He rolls over but Patrick’s not in bed.

“I’m coming,” He stumbles, sleepy to the door. Only his boxers on, scratching his head he pulls it open. “Hey,” he says.

“Is uh… is Art here?”

Shit. It’s his physiotherapist. Tashi must have sent him over when he didn’t show up to his post game session this morning. Patrick pulls open the door and his physio Steve walks in.

It’s at this moment that Art kinda wishes Patrick had a little more shame. He sits up in bed quickly, embarrassment heating his skin as he searches for his clothes which are all over the bed and floor.

“Uh sorry man… um…” Art says, quickly trying to get into his briefs. Steve’s eyes widen when he sees him. He looks for maybe a bit too long before turning to look at the wall.

“No uh… no it’s um… Tashi said you were probably here so I figured I’d bring breakfast.” He holds up one of the shakes Art usually swallows down for breakfast. It was their usual habit to hangout after his post game sessions. Art sees his college buddies four times a year at most and he hasn’t really kept in touch with anyone from high school. Sadly Steve is probably his most consistent guy friend as an adult and he happens to be on the payroll.

“That’s uh… really thoughtful man I appreciate it,” Art says, glaring at Patrick who looks quite amused by all of it. “I completely forgot about our session.”

“I uh— I see. Um…” Steve lingers, he looks at Patrick and then chances another glance in Art’s direction. He’s stepping into his jeans. Or maybe they’re Patrick’s jeans. Fuck.

Patrick rests his elbow against the doorframe, one hand on his hip.“No way you were actually going to train after yesterday?” He asks, yawning.

“No this is my good friend and physiotherapist, Steve.” Art says, sheepish. “I’ve been seeing him nearly everyday since my injury.”

“Hey man, I’ve uh— I’ve heard a lot about you,” Steve says, smiling awkwardly at Patrick, his eyes trailing swiftly up and down his body.

“I bet,” Patrick smirks.

“That’s uh—Patrick and I— we’ve never— I’ve never done anything like this before,” Art says quickly and reassuringly to Steve. In case he’s thinking of bailing now. The way Steve stretches him out so well has led him to walk away with the occasional awkward boner. He’s not into Steve. At least he doesn't think he is.

Steve would always dismiss it saying it happened all the time… and that made Art feel a little less embarrassed about it. But now seeing Art like this Steve’s probably going to rethink the cause of those boners.

“No I mean… it’s no big deal. You know I’m gay so it’s nothing I’m not used to. And since you’re bisexual I figured you had to be—“ Steve starts.

“Huh?” Art interrupts, he’s given up and just decided to wear Patrick’s jeans, he’s buttoning them but they’re still sitting loose on his waist, exposing the thick strap of his briefs.

“It’s no big deal, honest, I’m not calling HR,” Steve says, smiling.

“No the other part,” Art says. “Did you say— did you say you were— that you think I’m—“

Steve laughs. “Is this a joke?”

“Uh I don’t know. I mean… I’m not…” Art begins and then he glances at Patrick, who continues to look endlessly amused.

“We flirt all the time.” Steve says. “You get hard every time I’m stretching you out. You know I love Beyoncé as much as Tashi does. You saw grindr on my phone when I accidentally left it open…”

“Beyoncé is a talented artist.” Is all Art can manage and Patrick laughs. Art tosses a balled up sock at him. He vaguely remembers seeing naked men on Steve’s phone but he’d figured it was some kind of anatomy thing. He’s a physio after all.

“You said the boner thing happens to people all the time…” Art says.

“Yeah it does… with my clients that are into men.”

Art feels his skin heating even more. “We—we don’t flirt,” Art stammers.

Steve laughs this time. “Sure…”

Patrick settles back on the bed. “This is hilarious actually. I like you Steve. Maybe we should all go out and eat real food. And I can tell you about all the times he didn’t flirt with me.”

“I’d definitely be interested,” Steve smiles. Traitor.

And here Art was thinking he drank too much and made a mistake but the whole time Steve thought he was bisexual. God. Maybe he’s bisexual?

“I know you think it’s funny but can you please not mention this to Tashi? God forbid, she finds out from either of you before I can explain myself.”

Steve chokes out another laugh and then covers his mouth. Art frowns at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry… I thought that was another joke. You know, she’s the one who told me you were bi. She said if we hooked up she’d be good with it so I um—I think she knows.”

Art rubs his palms on his thighs refusing to take one more glance at Patrick’s ever widening shit eating grin.

“Oh.”

[hannahbarberra162]

A Negative Outcome, Part 4

Infinite thank you to @gouraminnow who helped me so very very much with this chapter.

The other chapters | on Ao3

TW: angst and not much comfort here but there will be a lot in the next chapter.

Thatch POV

It had been a long time since Marco had been in trouble with Pops. Thatch remembered a time when he first joined the Whitebeard Pirates where Marco had killed someone they wanted for information and Pops had been mad about it. But that was decades ago and Thatch hadn’t seen a repeat performance since. Marco was always doing the right thing, making correct judgements, and trying his best to guide the crew under the supervision of Pops. Which is why nearly half the crew was on deck pretending to be working while listening in, himself included. You were resting in his room, exhausted after the long day and donating so much blood. Thatch had heard Marco’s statements that you shouldn’t be so tired but Thatch had been around long enough to know there was more to a person than just their body. 

“My son, it was the wrong choice,” Pops chided Marco lightly. Pops didn’t need to use a harsh tone or to yell, the effect on Marco was devastating. He looked like he was wilting under Pops’ softly spoken words even as he looked directly at their Captain. Thatch had been in Marco’s position before and it was undeniably worse when Pops was disappointed rather than angry . 

“She was harmed under our care, she needed time to recuperate,” Pops continued.

“But chemotherapy doesn’t work like that, I can’t just suddenly -” Marco tried to interrupt and throw his weight as the doctor on the crew. Whitebeard stopped him with a glance. 

“I’ve lived a long time, Marco. One day would not have mattered,” was all Whitebeard had to say in order for Marco to hang his head. The quiet across the deck was louder than any argument could ever be. Holding himself high once more, Marco looked his Captain in the eye.

“But I… - of course. I’ll…make amends,” Marco replied. Thatch wondered how he would do so given the tension that radiated from you any time Marco came near. Thatch had to spend the majority of his time in the infirmary that afternoon calming and soothing you after Marco had chased you down in the kitchens. Thatch had heard Marco apologize many times but he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard it after Marco had fucked up. Maybe it would be good for the doctor to be humbled slightly, maybe you’d get better treatment from Marco or at least be allowed to live a little more. Thatch finished clearing Pop’s dishes and left to bring them back to the galley. He wanted to be in the room when Marco sought you out to make sure the interaction went as smoothly as possible.

Marco POV

Marco shifted into his Phoenix form as he took his leave from Pops and launched himself into the air, soaring high above the ship. He wanted a few moments of privacy to gather himself before he went to go find you. He needed to center and control his emotions before he talked to you lest he make the relationship between you worse. Which…he wasn’t sure was possible right now. When you told him how you fucking hated him and your facial expression held more emotion during that declaration than he’d seen in weeks. 

Marco had tried to empathize with you as best he could but he never got very far. His devotion to Whitebeard was so strong, he’d do anything to make his Captain’s health improve. He already had by betraying his oath to do no harm and keeping you aboard the ship. Marco would gladly have traded six hours of his day for Whitebeard, it wasn’t like you were working hard. All you had to do was sit in a chair with your arm on an arm rest and relax. And yes, he knew that you missed your family and friends but it wasn’t like he had murdered you. You’d eventually make your way back to them - Marco knew that even with his assistance Whitebeard was mortal and would eventually pass away. It was a temporary adventure in your life, and frankly, most people would go gaga for the opportunity to sail with Whitebeard. You could be having the time of your life but you chose to spend it moping about the ship. 

What really ruffled Marco’s feathers was everyone was acting like he was the villain, like Marco was the one who was responsible for your torment and despair. Yes, it had been his plan, but everyone commented on how well Pops has been doing, how healthy he looked, how lively Pops was lately. It didn’t go unnoticed by the crew how vigorously Pops crushed Teach’s lifeless body once the traitor had finally been defeated. Everyone was pleased with the outcome but they didn’t want to get their own hands dirty by taking care of you.  It was easy to accuse Marco of being unsympathetic and cold but no one was helping you escape, were they? Everyone wanted you to remain and to use your blood but they didn’t want to have to feel bad about it. Marco shook his head trying to clear the negative thoughts. He needed to figure out some way to apologize for making you give blood without causing further deterioration to your relationship. He lazily tightened the circles he was flying in and flew down to land on the deck. He went below deck after shifting back into his human form, finally ready to speak to you. He had to remain sensitive, this was probably the first time you’d had a near death experience. Even before he ate his Devil Fruit, being a pirate came with a certain level of risk. Marco was used to the danger of the high seas but that would be foreign to you as a civilian. Keeping that in mind, Marco headed towards Thatch’s cabin where he assumed you were. You’d hardly left the Commander’s side since Teach had tried to murder you, likely in an attempt to make yourself feel more secure. Listening from outside the cabin, he heard Thatch speaking to you in his deep voice and you responding occasionally to his questions. 

Your POV

There was no other way to say it - you were hiding in Thatch’s room after your time in the infirmary. You felt completely depleted in mind, body, and spirit as you looked through the assorted books Thatch had in his room. Turned out he liked poetry and once upon a time you had too. But since you’d been brought on the ship your interest had dwindled. You ran your finger down the spine of a familiar book, a popular volume of romantic poems. At some point you thought all you ever wanted out of life was someone to care for you and love you like the people in the poems but it turned out you craved more important things -  like freedom and autonomy. Even so, you plucked the slim book off the shelf and turned it over in your hands, opening it to the bookmarked spot Thatch had left. 

A knock at the door had you whimpering in distress. You were never so jumpy before coming on the ship but now you startled at the tiniest noise. The door opened to reveal a concerned looking Thatch on the other side. Your cheeks heated as the chef came closer to check on you again. Thatch had been practically babysitting you since the events of the previous day and you felt awful for taking up so much of his precious time. You didn’t want to be a burden on the one person who seemed to care how you were feeling and maybe gave a shit about you.

“How ya doin’ Baby Pie?” Thatch asked, approaching you slowly. You tried to put on a cheery front so he didn’t come home to a dour loser every time he wanted to rest in his room.

“I’m good. I’m just, um, relaxing. I’m gonna go though, sorry. You can have your room back, I’m sure you want some alone time,” you said apologetically, closing the book and moving to replace it on the shelf near the couch before you left.

“I don’t want alone time, I came to see you. And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. You don’t have to go back to that other room,” Thatch said quietly. You hadn’t actually thought about where you’d go if Thatch wanted his room back. The thought of going back to the room where you nearly died wasn’t in the realm of possibility for you. Maybe you could find a room in the infirmary that was far from the phlebotomy room? But Marco wouldn’t go for that, you didn’t even have to ask. Beds were scarce and needed to injured crew, not frightened civilians.

“What’re you thinkin’ about Porkchop?” Thatch asked, plopping down on the small couch in his cabin. He held out his arms and spread his legs, a silent call for you to come sit on his lap. It felt childish to constantly seek out touch but you feet were propelling themselves towards the chef anyway. As you neared he scooped you up and placed you in his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you. You leaned into him, even the smell of oil imbued his chef’s coat not ruining your moment. 

“Porkchop?” you asked lightly, nuzzling into him. You felt  there was something building between the two of you but you didn’t want to address it right now. You were a little vulnerable and wanted some leeway in case your growing feelings weren’t reciprocated. You’d live in delusion land for just a bit longer before you brought yourself back to reality and talked to Thatch about your crush. 

“Mm. Guess that wasn’t one of my better ones, eh? You can go back to being Sugar,” Thatch teased, squishing you between his muscled arms. He gently took the book from your hands, turning it over so the cover was showing. “You like poetry?” he asked softly, the fingers of his other hand drawing circles on your thigh.

“Yeah, guess so,” you answered, eyes already closing. You hadn’t been able to truly rest without Thatch around, feeling too unsafe and anxious to fall asleep. Eventually you would have to get over it and be an adult again but the chef was too comforting for your own good. A knock at the door had you stiffening up immediately. Thatch’s arms tightened around you as he beckoned to whoever was behind the door. You bristled as you saw Marco pushing in the door, his face sour like he’d eaten a crate of lemons. If Thatch wasn’t there you would have tried to take your chances by running again but you knew there was no way that you’d be able to escape the two of them together. But maybe Marco wasn’t there to talk to you, maybe he needed more from you, more time in the phlebotomy room, more blood coming out of your arm -

“I did six hours! I promise! I can’t - please -” you went straight to begging, trying to push Thatch’s arms off of you.

“No no. It’s not that yoi. You did fine today. I came to apologize to you,” Marco stated plainly. You didn’t respond, unsure what Marco was playing at. He’d never apologized to you before, why was he starting now? Sure he made you give blood the day after you were almost murdered but that was practically par for the course. You knew he didn’t feel bad about kidnapping you or using you but you were curious what he would say.

“I’m going to give the two of you privacy but I won’t be far,” Thatch said, taking you off his lap and placing you on the small couch. You made a small sound of protest and looked up at him with doleful eyes. You didn’t want to be left alone with Marco, especially not after you told him off not too long prior. Marco didn’t seem to take anything you said too personally but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off before either. After Thatch left the room it became awkward and quiet as you waited for Marco to continue his thought. Marco came inside and shut the door, leaving just the sound of the waves against the sides of the ship.

“I came to apologize for making you donate -”

“Give,” you corrected Marco. You’d never been so bold before but maybe almost dying would do that to a person.

“Pardon?” Marco asked, now crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I don’t donate my blood. You take it,” you replied. You wished that your voice had held out for the whole sentence - you squeaked out the end. Marco bristled and you scooted backwards, putting more distance between the two of you. 

“Yes, I suppose that's true yoi,” Marco conceded as he set his jaw. You regretted saying anything - if Marco was in the mood to play nice you shouldn't have spoiled it. Marco closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before he continued, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers along his bicep, as if this entire conversation was irritating him. 

“As I was saying, I am sorry for taking your blood today. I should have listened to you and let you rest. As a doctor, I know the importance of mental health as it affects the body and it was an oversight in my error to not let you recover yoi. You can have tomorrow off even though it does affect Whitebeard’s chemotherapy schedule,” Marco finished waving his hand in your direction. He paused as if he was waiting for something. 

“Thank you,” you gritted out through your teeth. Marco didn’t seem to notice your tone but did give you a curt nod as if he was expecting your thanks, like he was granting you a huge favor for not forcibly taking your blood for one single fucking day. You wanted to roll your eyes and kick him out but it wasn’t your room in the first place. 

“I hope you understand how much this affects everyone else yoi,” Marco said coldly. You wanted to retort back that being nearly murdered affected you badly when the door creaked open again.

“Marco, your apology sucks,” Thatch said, folding his arms across his chest. Marco bristled but didn’t say anything further. “No man, come on. Say something real,” Thatch prodded Marco as he blocked the door with his wide frame and tacitly prevented Marco from leaving. Marco looked at his brother, shifting his weight onto one foot. He exhaled and walked over, sitting down near you on the couch. You’d been near Marco many many times but never in a casual setting like this. You almost gave him your arm out of reflex but were able to stifle the impulse at the last moment. Marco considered you with his blue eyes, like he was really seeing you as a person for the first time. He put his hands on his knees and began speaking to you softly.

“I am sorry you were almost killed. I truly am. That shouldn’t have happened and you’re not used to anything remotely like that. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t and I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been yoi. I know you didn’t choose to be here with us and that you’d rather be home. I know. So for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you almost died. It wasn’t your fault and I’m not sure how much my promise to keep you safe is worth anymore yoi.” Marco gazed at you intensely while he spoke. You didn’t know where to look so you kept your eyes trained on your lap. Marco continued in the same calm tone.

“That being said, no, I’m not sorry for what I did today. You’re not the most important person on the ship. I’m not the most important person on the ship - it has always been and will always be Whitebeard. So yes, you get tomorrow off to recover but after that you have to go back yoi. None of us have a choice. I wish things were different, that I could drop you off on the next island, but life isn’t that simple. There’s a lot hanging in the balance, a lot more than you know. There are so many people, islands, territories that need Whitebeard’s protection. Even though you don’t want to be here, you play an important role in the fate of the world and I can’t let you go. Not yet. Can you understand that? Or at least try?”

You blinked rapidly at Marco’s statements, this the most raw emotion you’d ever heard from Marco since you’d met him. He always kept his true feelings guarded, crafting each sentence carefully to construct a meaning that didn’t necessarily match his own opinions. You preferred this real Marco to the palatable version he presented to you - at least you knew where you stood now. You looked at him as he waited for you to respond, his half lidded eyes still studying you.

“O-okay. I understand,” you said quietly, turning over Marco’s words in your mind. Thatch stood up and moved in the room giving Marco space to leave. Marco nodded at you and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and looked over at a gently smiling Thatch.

“Seems like we have a day to plan,” he said, clapping his hands together. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think - you still have to work though, right? It’s just me, I wasn’t expecting -” Thatch crossed the room and sat back down right next to you on the couch. Reaching onto the bookshelf he pulled off a large thesaurus and opened it, revealing a bottle of rum hidden inside. Uncorking it, he took a swig and offered it to you as well. You must have looked surprised because Thatch furrowed his brow in mock confusion.

“What? It’s the least likely book for anyone to pick up. They’d have to first use the dictionary to find out what a thesaurus is. Anyway I got good crew under me, they can handle everything for a day. We’re celebrating starting tonight, take a sip,” he said, pushing the bottle into your hands. You hadn’t had alcohol since Marco had banned you after catching you drinking three beers. The hard liquor burned your throat as it went down, warming you all the way. 

“What’re we celebrating?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“You,” he said, laying a muscled arm across your back, his hand hooking around your upper arm. He pulled you into his own body, your head now leaning against his own shoulder. You snorted but didn’t object as you handed back the bottle to Thatch.

A few hours later you stumbled out of Thatch’s room. You really didn’t have all that much to drink but your tolerance was low from abstaining for so long. You wanted to catch a shower in the women’s bathroom before you went to bed - you hadn’t had a proper one since before the…event.  Walking down the now dark hallway towards the women’s quarters, you heard a conversation in progress. You thought you heard your name so you waited before turning the corner, curious to hear what the crew was saying about you.

“Tough break for that Bloodbag, eh?” you heard someone say around the corner. They called you -  Bloodbag…? Is that what everyone referred to you as when you weren’t around? You waited where you were, you wanted to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation even though you were already on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah, I mean who knew Teach had it in him? Not the killing, killing her would be easy. I’m saying the betrayal part -”

“I know, to hurt your own crew -”

“Well, she’s not crew exactly, she’s more like -”

“Like Marco’s pet, or medicine for Pops or whatever. Still would suck to be murdered by Teach though. Nasty bastard had to be put down by Captain himself. But yeah, I get you, it’s like stabbing Pops yourself. Good thing she lived,” someone continued.

“Yeah, then we would have had to find another Bloodbag. It took so long to find that one in the first place, we’d have to start all over again…” the second man trailed off as their voices and footsteps receded while they walked down the hall towards the infirmary. 

Oh.

Your mind went blank as you processed what you heard, standing in the hallway unmoving for a few moments. Being tipsy didn’t help as you replayed their words in your mind over and over. You began to move robotically towards the bathrooms again, gripping your towel tightly in your hands. You didn’t really know how to feel at that moment - in some ways you were happy that the bandage had been ripped off your wound. You always suspected that the crew didn’t care about you and this had confirmed it. At least these two were being honest as opposed to Marco and Thatch and Whitebeard or anyone else who was kind of nice to you. 

You spaced out for some time while your body continued to move. Your brain was consumed with going over the overheard conversation and you later found yourself in the women’s bathrooms. You were sitting in the communal bath, staring at the tiled floor wringing a washcloth between your hands. Your fingers, toes and palms were wrinkly, clueing you to the fact that you’d been in there for a while and the soreness in your fingers meant you’d been wringing the cloth for a while. None of that really mattered though. Even though the water was now cool you remained in the bath, sinking down to your neck. A firm knock resounded on the door, breaking you from your trance and making the water slosh as you sat up quickly.

“Who - who is it?” you called out. Any of the nurses wouldn’t have knocked and you guessed a killer would have just come right in.  

“It’s Marco,” a familiar but muffled voice said through the thick wood. Drying yourself in a towel and covering your body in a fluffy robe, you padded towards the door. Cracking it open you saw it was indeed Marco and you pushed it open more widely.

“S-sorry, was I in here too long?” you asked, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

“Yes, and now you’re cold but that’s not why I’m here yoi. I think we both overheard a conversation earlier that wasn’t ideal,” he said, his earlier casualness forgotten.

“You mean the bloodbag thing? I mean it wasn’t great but -” you started, minimizing your feelings. Maybe you’d journal or something later but now that you knew how things really were you didn’t feel like pouring your heart out to Marco again.

“It wasn’t appropriate and those involved are being punished -”

“Not appropriate? I - you're gonna try and deny it? Gonna try and tell me I'm anything else? I don’t care and I don’t have the energy for this. Thanks for the day off tomorrow, I’ll see you the day after," you said, shrugging your shoulders. You sidled past Marco, walking out of the bathroom. Marco extended his arm but retracted his hand, letting you pass without further incident.

You didn't know where to go now that you were tired and ready for bed - in your foolish heart you wanted to go back to Thatch’s room. But after that blood bag conversation you weren't sure if he actually enjoyed your presence or just spent time with you out of obligation to his captain. It would certainly make sense for Marco and Thatch to work together, you were much more compliant for Thatch than you were for Marco. Maybe they were playing you off one another to get you more amicable to the situation you were in. You passed the turn to Thatch's hall but kept going, avoiding the now familiar room.

You plodded on until you reached your old room, the one that - you pushed that memory out of your head as you opened the door and looked around. Someone had cleaned your walls and brought in new furniture to replace the broken furnishings. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the room and shut the door. 

[realdramalove69]

Commission: Not So Empty Nest Part 1

The day finally came when Nick had to say goodbye to his mother. He had dreaded this day, but was also excited to be finally heading off to college. They had spent all day yesterday loading up his car and making sure he had everything he needed before doing the four hour drive to his new dorm.

As long as he can remember it had always just been him and Maria. His mom had had him when she was young, 18 and just out of high school, but she made sure he never wanted for anything. They had shared small apartments, late nights working on homework, and now she was getting ready to say goodbye to her only child.

The night before as they ate pizza and watched movies Nick looked at his mom, admiring how beautiful and youthful she still was. Long silky black hair, a curvy body and olive toned skin. They had the same dark brown eyes but Nick was paler and more lanky than his mother. He had gotten his height from his father’s side (according to her) and stood 8 inches taller than his mother’s 5’4” stature.

Nick set down his plate on the coffee table and turned to his mom, his heart pounding and his nerves building in anticipation of him leaving. He had been rehearsing this conversation in his head all day and knew if he didn’t say it now he would never be able to.

“Mom?” Nick started, his voice sounding childlike.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Maria replied, looking at her son and smiling.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Since I got accepted into college really. But I wanted to ask you if you were maybe going to start dating again once I’m gone?”

Maria looked down at her hands and picked at her pizza. “Sweetie you don’t need to worry about me–”

“I know. You’ve told me my whole life. But now you’re going to be alone and I don’t want you here alone without someone here to love you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Maria didn’t know what to say. She had put off dating these last 18 years, focusing solely on her son and her job as a hairdresser. “I promise, Nick, that I will be fine. Of course I will miss having you around but I don’t need to get married or anything like that.”

Nick tried to hide his disappointment. He had tried this once before when he was younger, begging his mom for more siblings and a dad, but she had shooed him off saying she didn’t have time.

“It’s just something to think about, mom,” Nick replied. “In case you get lonely.”

Maria scooted on the couch closer to her son and hugged him, ruffling his hair and kissing the top of his head. “I appreciate you looking out for me, honey. I’ll think about entering the dating scene again. I promise.”

Nick looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks. I’d feel better about going to school knowing you won’t be bored and alone.”

“Oh, Nicky, I’m not going to be bored. I’ll find some new hobbies to try or something.” She kissed his head and went back to eating the pizza.

The next morning Maria waved her son goodbye as he drove off, tears in her eyes as she watched her baby boy heading off to become the chemist and doctor he had always dreamed of. She sighed and crossed her arms, hugging herself as she felt the impending boredom and loneliness that comes with being an empty nester. She hated to admit that her son was right; she was nervous about being left here alone without him. Maybe she should download a dating app?

Maria chuckled and shook her head. Don’t be hasty, Maria. It’s only been five minutes.

To distract herself, Maria decided to head to the gym. She had always loved working out and keeping in shape, her toned body proved it. She hadn’t ever lost the bit of chub on her thighs and belly from pregnancy, but no one could deny she was absolutely gorgeous.

Dressed in a tight light blue yoga pants and bra set, Maria put in her headphones and started her run on the treadmill. She had been running for about twenty minutes when a man around her age hopped on the one next to her. She smiled politely at him, feeling a warmth in her cheeks when she noticed how attractive he was. Tall and tan with salt and pepper hair and kind tawny eyes. He had some stubble but didn’t look unkempt. Pushing her shoulders back a little, Maria continued her pace trying not to think about the man next to her.

He started his run, his pace about the same as hers. They ran together in silence for another fifteen minutes before Maria slowed down to a walk, hands on her head as she caught her breath. The man slowed down as well, obviously not as avid a runner as Maria. He clutched his side and said something to her.

“Sorry I couldn’t hear you,” Maria responded, taking her headphones out. “What did you say?”

“I said, you’re a really great runner,” the man gasped, smiling big and trying to catch his breath. “I admittedly only came over here to talk to you but you were so in the zone I didn’t want to bug you.”

Maria’s cheeks grew redder. “Oh, well your form looked good anyways!”

The man extended a hand. “John.”

Maria shook it. “Maria. Nice to meet you. Are you new to this gym? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“Just moved to town about two weeks ago.” John sighed. “Sorry if I’m being too forward. I don’t normally walk up to women like this…”

“No, no it’s okay!” The words of her son from the night before echoed in her head as she stared at this handsome man in front of her. “Do you want to grab a smoothie? There’s a great place a couple doors down.”

John smiled. “I’d love that.”

The two walked out of the gym and to the smoothie cafe. They grabbed their drinks and sat across from each other, drinking and chatting.

“What made you move here?” Maria asked. She took a long sip from her drink and looked him in the eyes.

“Work. I got promoted and they wanted me to head up the lab out here.”

“Lab? Like a research lab?”

“Yeah, I’m an endocrinologist and chemist studying hormonal therapies and stuff like that. Boring stuff.”

“No! My son actually just left today for college. He’s studying chemistry and biology. In high school he had all this really hard homework. I barely understood any of it but he’s so smart.”

“You have a son?” The man looked surprised. Maria mentally slapped herself, not thinking about if the man even wanted or liked kids.

“Uh, yeah. My son Nick. He’s all grown up now.” Maria drank her smoothie nervously. “Do you have any kids?”

The man smiled and shook his head. “No, I never got around to it I guess. I’ve always wanted a big family though. Lots of babies and kids to take care of. A big pregnant wife to greet me when I get home everyday.”

Maria sighed in relief, seeing John look her up and down even more. “Nick always bugged me for younger siblings but, you know, single mom. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I couldn’t afford another baby.”

“You’re still young, Maria. You could definitely still give your son younger siblings.” John gently grabbed her hand and held it. Maria blushed and smiled, smitten by this man she had met barely an hour ago. “I’d love to take you to dinner tonight. If you’re free.”

Maria nodded eagerly. “I’d like that a lot.”

After the first date Maria knew he was the one. He was charming, handsome, tall, funny and kind. Everything her old boyfriends would never be. She eagerly called her son that night after she got home, not realizing how late it was when he answered.

“Mom? Is everything ok?” Nick asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Maria looked at the clock. “Oh shoot, honey sorry I didn’t realize the time. Did you get settled in okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. My roommate is really nice.” Nick kept his voice quiet. “Orientation is tomorrow and I got my class schedule so I’ll be pretty busy.”

“That’s good. I’m so proud of you, Nicky. And I don’t want you to worry about me…I met someone today at the gym.”

Nick smiled wide. “Wow! Mom, I'm so glad. What’s his name?”

“John. He’s an endocrinologist and studies fertility and other science stuff. I think you two will get along.”

“He sounds great. I hope it goes well, mom.” Nick yawned.

“I’ll let you go, sweetheart. Call me and text me when you can. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nick hung up and laid back down, smiling and sighing in relief. Thank god she’s putting herself back out there.

John didn’t come inside that first night, despite Maria wanting him too. In fact, he didn’t come inside her home until date number 3. They spent the last few days together going on little adventures around the city and now Maria finally had him on her couch.

Maria poured them some red wine, handing a glass to John who took it nervously. She noticed his hand shaking a bit and scooted closer, grabbing his arm and leaning on his shoulder.

“Nervous?” Maria purred. “Come on, I don’t bite.”

“Maria,” John started, a tremble in his voice. “I need to confess something to you.”

Maria looked at him confused, leaning up a bit and holding his hand. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong, it's just that…I’ve fallen for you. Hard. I know it sounds crazy and we barely met but–” John pulled a ring out of his pocket and got on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Maria felt tears in her eyes, her hands going to her mouth as she smiled and nodded. “Yes! Oh my god this is crazy but yes! I love you too.”

John put the ring on her finger and kissed her, his hands around her waist as she held his face.

“I didn’t ever think I’d fall in love but I just knew from the moment I saw you,” John gasped between kisses. “You’re so beautiful and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Maria smiled wider. “Let’s get married tonight. I have a friend at the courthouse. We can get it done in an hour.”

John nodded and kissed her again. “Go put on your prettiest dress!”

Maria wore her only white dress: a short spaghetti strap dress that hugged her curves and held her perky tits perfectly. John grabbed a button down and the two of them headed to the courthouse and were wedded within the hour. John drove them to a nice hotel and got the honeymoon suite, carrying his new bride through the door and popping bottles of champagne.

“Cheers!” John clinked his glass against hers. “To Mrs. Grant.”

Maria kissed him and took a sip. “Mm thank you, Mr. Grant.”

Maria looked her new husband up and down, grabbing him by the collar and kissing him deeply. She pulled back for a moment and chugged the rest of her drink, setting her glass down before ripping his shirt off of him and running her hands up and down his torso. John grunted as she unbuckled his pants, pulling them down and revealing his hard cock.

“Wow, so big already for your new wife?” Maria got on her knees and licked his shaft up and down. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone.” She licked his tip before taking him in her mouth, feeling his cock in the back of her throat as she moaned.

John groaned and held her head against his dick. “Ohhh fuck baby you’re so good to me.” He pulled her off him. “But I wanna cum in your pussy.”

Maria looked up at her new husband. “Did you bring a condom? I’m not on the pill…”

John shook his head. “My wife should have babies in her belly, don’t you think?”

Maria hesitated. She hadn’t considered having more kids so soon. “I don’t know, John…” He shoved his cock back in her mouth and down her throat.

“You’ll look so good with a big belly, Maria. Waddling around with my babies inside you. Don’t you want that? For me?”

Maria sucked on his tip before gasping for air again. “You want babies with me?” She stood and jumped in his arms. “I’ll have your babies, John.”

John smiled wider, kissing her and taking her to the bed, laying her down on her back. “I’m going to make you a mommy again!” In a quick thrust he was inside her, filling her tight pusy for the first time. Maria gasped at the sensation, her hands holding her flopping tits as she arched her back, cumming instantly.

“Oh god yes! Don’t stop until I’m pregnant!” Maria squealed and gasped, John grabbing her hips and lifting her against him, getting deeper into her.

“I’m going to put so many babies in you, Maria!” With another thrust, John shot his load deep into her, filling her womb with his seed. He collapsed on top of her, the two of them breahting heavily.

“You really did it,” Maria muttered in her orgasmic daze. “I’m going to be a mommy again.”

John kissed her neck and nibbled her ear. “I’m going to keep breeding you all night long.”

They spent that night and the next few nights fucking non-stop. John moved her into his large house in the suburbs and bent her over whenever he could, fucking another load into her fertile pussy. It didn’t take long to know she was pregnant; the morning sickness hit first only two weeks after their wedding, the sound of her hurling making John smile wide. A week later she took a pregnancy test and sure enough it was positive. She cried in John’s arms, smiling and kissing him as he rubbed her belly excitedly.

As they ate dinner that night, John noticed Maria’s somber expression. “Is something wrong, sweetie?”

Maria looked up at him. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about Nick. I know he thinks I’m crazy for marrying you so fast and now I’m pregnant and I just…don’t know what to say to him.”

John grabbed her hand gently. “It’s probably best to tell him in person. And you don’t want to interfere with his first semester when he’s still getting used to everything. Besides, you won’t be showing that much in just a few months.”

Maria squeezed his hand and smiled. “You’re right. I know he’s excited to meet you and he’ll be even more excited to have a baby sibling.”

A few more weeks passed and so did the morning sickness. They had their first ultrasound scheduled for 9 weeks, the doctor a friend of John’s. The morning of the appointment Maria stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror, noticing the small pudge in her belly. She cupped it, feeling her soft skin bulging in a familiar way. Her hands moved up to her breasts, noticing how much more sensitive they felt as she massaged them. Even her ass was starting to look a little bigger, her hips already wide but getting prepared for her next pregnancy.

With a smirk, Maria walked naked out of the bathroom and posed in front of the bed, pushing her belly out more and giggling as John looked up from his phone. “Baby look how big I am already,” she pouted teasingly. “I’ve got a little belly already.”

John stood, a smile and shock mixing on his face as he cupped the gentle swell and felt the firm belly under her soft skin. “Wow, you’re growing already! This is amazing.”

“It’s not so amazing for my wardrobe. I didn’t think I’d be showing this fast.”

“Maybe it’s more than one?” John kept rubbing the firm bump, mesmerized by it. “My babies are in here.”

“Baby. Just one. I can’t imagine having more than one at a time.” Maria placed her hands on his and kissed him. “Now get dressed, our appointment is soon.”

Maria struggled to get any of her jeans to fit and instead put on yoga pants and a large t-shirt, hiding her bump. She groaned and winced as the tight bra dug into her sensitive breasts. I’ll need to go shopping this week, she thought to herself.

They got in the car and were soon at the clinic. Maria sat in the waiting room holding her husband’s hand. Looking around the room and seeing the other couples there, women in various stages of pregnancy, babies in strollers, she couldn’t help but get teary eyed. John squeezed her hand, noticing the tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

Maria shook her head. “Yeah, sorry it just hit me that we’re gonna have a baby.” John smiled and kissed her. “I’m so excited to see them.”

A nurse came out of the office door and called for them. “Maria? Maria Grant?”

John helped her up and the two followed her to a small exam room where she sat on a table, leaning back slightly.

“Alright, I’m going to take a few intake questions and then the doctor will be in shortly to do an ultrasound. We’ll also need to get some bloodwork done before you leave today.”

Maria nodded along, answering the intake questions and holding John’s hand as he stood beside her. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, the idea of multiples playing in the back of her head as the nurse left and John pulled her shirt back over the noticeable bump.

“Wow baby, I can’t believe how round you are already,” John kissed her belly.

“John, I’m going to get so fat with this baby I can just tell,” Maria pouted. John kissed her again and chuckled.

“You’ll look so beautiful full term and round with my child. I promise.”

Before Maria could respond the door opened and a short man walked in with the same nurse from before.

“Good morning Mrs. Grant,” the short man chirped. “Always a pleasure to see you, Dr. Grant. My name is Dr. Sheen. I see we are here for our 9 week ultrasound. Now, just relax and we will see what’s going on in there.” He put on gloves and squirted the gel on Maria’s belly, making the woman shiver. “Some light pressure as I try to get a clear picture.”

Maria squeezed John’s hand tighter as she held her breath, staring at the gray screen and trying to decipher the blobs. “Is that the baby?” she asked hesitantly.

The doctor smiled. “That is one of your babies yes.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat and John stiffened beside her. “One?” he muttered, a smile growing on his face. “There’s more than one?”

“You mean, like twins?” Maria asked, looking between the two men.

“Oh I think it’s more than twins. I count…six fetuses,” the doctor circled them on the screen, labeling them A through F. “Sextuplets are rare but you seem to have a strong uterus. I’m curious to see what your blood tests show.”

“Sorry, did you say six?” Maria gasped. “John! I can’t carry six babies!” Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared between her husband and her growing belly. “I’m going to get too big and the babies what if they’re too small and come early–”

John held her and tried to get her to calm down. “Hey, hey,” he half whispered to her. “I’m going to be there with you every step of the way, don't worry. You’re going to carry them just fine. Me and Dr. Sheen will make sure of it.”

Maria calmed down slightly, holding John and her belly. “I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to take in.”

The doctor smiled and explained to her what she would need to do in order to carry six babies. Vitamins, supplements, upping her calorie intake. John assured the doctor that he would take care of her and make sure she and the babies were safe and sound.

The couple walked out of the office, Maria still in shock, and back to the car. John hugged her tightly before helping her sit in the passenger side. “Everything is going to be just fine, I promise.”

Maria nodded, rubbing her belly and taking his hand as he started the car. “Nick is for sure getting his wish for siblings,” she giggled.

Christmas break came faster than Maria anticipated. In the weeks since finding out she was having sextuplets her body grew faster, clothes ripping daily it seemed now as she refused to buy bigger ones.

“I’m growing so fast I’ll just outgrow anything else I buy” she complained one evening to her husband, the two of them sitting in bed and rubbing her bulging belly.

At 23 weeks with sextuplets Maria felt gigantic. She looked bigger than most women did with twins and she had still so long to go. Her skin was stretched tight, covered in stretch marks and the bumps from her babies kicking. John couldn’t get enough of her growing body, constantly rubbing her belly or breasts, marveling at how wide her hips were growing.

“Nick will be home tomorrow. I’m so scared of his reaction to this,” Maria groaned. “What if he’s upset we didn’t tell him sooner?”

John kissed her. “Don’t worry, he’s going to be so happy for you. I promise.”

Maria smiled and snuggled up to her baby daddy, her belly resting between them. “I know you’re right but I’m allowed to be nervous.”

The next morning Maria waddled around the house cleaning and making sure everything was in order for Nick’s arrival. She had moved into John’s house after they got married, making sure Nick still had his own room set up the same way it was in their apartment.

John came up behind her in the kitchen, lifting her belly and kissing her neck as she tried to finish the cookies she was making. “You need to go sit and rest,” he said with a smile.

“I will after I finish these. I want everything to be perfect.” Maria kissed him and put the cookies in the oven. “He’ll be here any minute.”

John rubbed her belly more, seeing his babies kicking. “I’ll finish the cookies. You go sit and rest. Doctor’s orders.” He chuckled and lightly spanked her ass.

Maria sighed but agreed, gratefully waddling to the living room and sitting on the couch, putting her swollen feet on the coffee table. She texted Nick to see how far he was, nervous he would get lost on his way to their new home.

Nick was getting nervous himself. He was happy his mom had found a new guy but getting married so fast made him worry. John sounded great and Nick couldn’t help but picture his new dad helping him with his college medical work. He drove through the fancy suburb, noticing the large houses and perfect lawns.

The lights outside turned on as Nick turned his car off, the sun setting earlier now that it was December. He was excited to see his mom for the first time in months. Their FaceTimes had gotten more brief the last month and her responses more vague. With a deep sigh he knocked on the door.

Maria heard the knock and John waved at her to stay seated, heading to answer it. She didn’t listen, standing awkwardly as her husband let her son into the house.

“Hey!” John opened the door wide with a smile. “You must be Nick. Come on in. I’m John.” John extended a hand and Nick shook it before coming inside.

Nick looked his new dad up and down, noticing his bright eyes and salt and pepper hair. He was taller than Nick but a couple inches, his shoulders broader too. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Your moms in the living room. Come on.”

John took Nick down the short hallway and into the living room where Maria stokd waiting, her belly huge in her hands as she stood before her son. “Nicky! I’m so happy you’re home!” She waddled over and tried to hug him, her belly pressing into him awkwardly.

Nick's jaw dropped at the sight of her, panic and a tingly feeling mixing in his stomach at the sight of her stretched belly. “M-mom? You’re…you’re pregnant! But how…? How are you so big already?” He stuttered, gingerly touching her bare belly as though he didn’t believe it was real.

“Nick, I wanted to tell you so badly but we felt it was best to tell you in person,” Maria said. “John and I didn’t anticipate me growing so fast but I’m pregnant with sextuplets—-”

“Sextuplets!” Nick blurted.

“Honey, I know it’s a lot to take in but I promise I’m healthy and your baby brothers and sisters are healthy and kicking.” Maria placed her son's hand on her belly so he could feel them. Nick could see the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner I know I should have.”

Nick smiled and rubbed her belly before hugging her. “It’s okay mom. I’m just happy you’re happy.” Maria kissed his cheek and hugged him again. “Plus now I get to have those younger siblings I always wanted.”

Maria and John laughed. “It’s five more babies that I anticipated but I couldn't be happier to be with such a wonderful woman,” John said.

Something stirred inside Nick as he rubbed his mothers belly. “How far along are you?”

“24 weeks tomorrow. Still have a long way to go,” Maria smiled. “But come on let me show you your room.”

It took Maria more time to get up the stairs these days but her husband and son helped her and soon she was showing Nick to his new room. “I tried to make it like your other room was,” she panted, every movement harder with the weight in front of her.

Nick set his bag down in the bed. “It looks great, mom. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Even with all these new babies coming you’ll always be my first baby.” Maria wiped a tear from her eye. “Sorry, hormones. Dinner will be ready soon so come down in a bit.”

When Nick was alone he locked the door and groaned, feeling his dick hard in his jeans. It wasn’t that his mom turned him on, but god that belly and those tits. She was a fertility goddess. And six! Six babies in her belly. This was the kind of science he wanted to study. Ideas came to him as he rubbed his cock up and down, ways to increase her fertility even more. He saw the way John looked at her too and imagined he wouldn’t be too mad with having even more babies for him.

Nick came with a grunt at the thought of his mom carrying a hundred babies. “Ooh fuck I need to make it happen,” he groaned.

The next day Nick went downstairs and found John making breakfast in the kitchen. He was busy flipping pancakes and cooking bacon, not noticing Nick until he poured a mug of coffee.

“Morning,” John said. “Your mom is still asleep but I know she’s going to be hungry when she wakes up.”

Nick smiled, noticing just how much food his step-dad was making. “Well she’s got a lot of babies to feed.” Nick chuckled softly. “Need any help?”

“A lot of big healthy babies to feed. And can you grab the syrup and butter from the fridge?”

Nick opened the well-stocked fridge and grabbed the two items, noticing the weight gain shakes in there as well. “Are you excited to have kids?” Nick could feel his heart pounding, trying to tread the topic carefully.

John nodded enthusiastically. “Couldn’t be happier. I’ve always wanted a big family. It’s one of the reasons I got into fertility medicine.”

“Same. Kind of. Mom had lots of friends who had trouble having kids and I always wanted to try and find ways to fix that. I never expected my own mom to be so fertile.”

“She is something else, isn’t she?” John looked at his new stepson and knew what he was trying to get at. “I didn’t give her any fertility meds if that’s what you're implying.”

Nick shook his head. “No! No… That’s what makes it so amazing.” Nick took a nervous sip of the coffee, scrunching his face at the bitter taste. He held tight on the mug, not wanting John to see his shaking hands. “Since her pregnancy is natural… I think it’s worth studying. Don’t you? Seeing how far her fertility goes?”

John set the plates of pancakes, eggs, bacon, orange juice, and muffins on a large tray. I like this kid, he thought to himself with a smile. He wants to see his mom blow up with babies, huh?

“Sorry if that’s weird I just figure with your work–”

“How would you like to intern at my office?” John asked. “I could use help on a project like this and it would look good on your resume.”

Nick was taken aback. Maybe it was their shared love of pregnancy that brought them together so quickly, neither of them needing to say out loud what their real goals were. “Deal.” Nick extended a hand and John shook it.

“Great! Let’s get her through this pregnancy first and then we can talk about the next one.”

With a wink, John grabbed the tray of food and hauled it to his sleeping wife upstairs. Nick sat at the kitchen table, dumbfounded and excited to see what they could accomplish.

After the break, Nick reluctantly went back to school. His mom hugged him tight and John shook his hand again, telling him he’d be in contact about the internship. Nick made his mom promise to send updates on the babies and pictures of her bump. He wanted to be a part of the experience as much as possible even from a distance. Maria thought it was sweet her son was so excited to be a big brother.

Maria waddled behind John into the doctor’s office for her 32 week checkup. She was growing faster now that she was in the third trimester, her belly round and heavy on her pelvis, reaching past her knees now when she sits. Her hips are almost too wide for most doorways now, John need to help her squeeze through on occasion.

With John and a nurse's help Maria gets onto the table, leaning back and groaning as she feels the babies in her belly moving and kicking. Laying on her back isn’t much of an option anymore, the weight of the babies and of her expanding chest making it hard to breathe.

Dr. Sheen walked in as John was soothing the kicking at her belly button. “How’re we doing?” the doctor asked as he squirted a generous amount of gel on her belly.

“Sore. Huge. I swear there’s more than six in there sometimes.” Maria rubbed her belly, her face scrunched in pain. “And they move so much now.”

“I can see very active babies,” the doctor said, pressing the wand into her belly and showing the large infants on the screen. “Oh my…you may be right about there being more than six…”

“What?” John said with a smile. “Really?”

“Oh, John please, it's already too much!” Maria cried.

“I can see eight babies in here. My apologies for missing them before but they must have been hiding behind their brothers. You’re up to five boys, three girls, Mrs. Grant.”

Maria didn’t know what to say. She was already struggling with the thought of having six babies but now it was eight?! What would her son say?

John could only smile and kiss her, rubbing her belly excitedly, his cock hard in his pants. The doctor left the two of them alone and he immediately started making out with her, grabbing her tits as she moaned in his arms.

“God you’re so fertile it’s amazing,” John gasped. “I love how big you’re getting, Maria. You’ve never looked sexier.” He kissed her neck, gripping her tits harder as milk seeped into his hands.

“Ohhh god, John you’ve really blown me up! I’m not going to be able to walk soon.”

“Fine by me.” John took a step back and took out his phone, snapping a pic of Maria looking huge and pregnant laying on her back. He texted the photo to a group chat of him, Nick, and Maria with the caption “guess who found two more babies in their belly”

Nick texted back immediately “OMG that's amazing congrats mom!”

Showing his wife the message, John smiled wider. “See? Everyone’s so excited for more babies.”

John pulled his wife to her feet and waddled her back to the car, helping her squeeze into the front seat. He drove them home quickly, his cock throbbing harder as he watched Maria moan and rub her belly the whole drive home. Once parked he pulled her out of the car and into the living room, pulling her dress off of her and unhooking the too tight bra.

“John!” Maria gasped, holding her belly as she felt her husband latching on to her leaking tit. “Ohh fuck baby I’m so pregnant it’s making me so full of milk!”

Without letting go of her, John eased Maria onto the couch, holding her belly, rubbing his hand down further until he found her wet pussy, fingering her sensitive clit.

Maria cried out in ecstasy as she felt her husband teasing her. “John, I need you! I need you inside me!”

Not one to deny a pregnant woman, John undid his pants and gripped her hips, pulling her up and lining his cock with her hole, rubbing her lips with his tip before plunging deep inside her. He groaned low as he felt her warm insides envelope him, so wet and ready for more of his potent seed.

Maria’s eyes crossed as she felt John thrust into her, her whole body shaking as he pounded against her sensitive cervix. She gripped her tits in her hands, milk dripping onto her belly as they slapped against her tight orb. “John I’m gonna cum!” she squealed, feeling her clit pulsate as she screamed through her orgasm, her pussy clenching tighter around John’s cock.

“Oh fuck, Maria you’re the best baby factory!” John came inside her, shooting hot ropes into her already overfilled womb. He collapsed onto her belly, feeling the rising and falling of her breathing as he kissed and sucked on her belly button.

The rest of her pregnancy was much the same. Growing, eating, fucking. John ordered her on a bed rest two months after they found the two extra babies, her belly so heavy on her once tiny frame that she couldn’t walk without John’s help now.

Maria spent the last few weeks of her pregnancy moaning and miserable in bed, laying on her side and rubbing her belly as the babies inside assaulted her. She could feel each of them moving and kicking, fighting for more space inside her cramped womb. Making it to 40 weeks was unprecedented but having both John and Nick home to help her made it a little easier.

Nick’s first year of school had finished and he was eager to move back home for the summer, especially since Maria hadn’t given birth yet. She was close, John kept saying, yet she kept growing and the babies seemed content inside her.

At 41 weeks Maria felt gigantic. Her belly was bigger than her, large enough John could have curled inside it. Nick sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed lotion into her tight and red skin, trying to soothe the miserable woman groaning on the bed.

“Please come soon,” Maria whined. “Oh god, Nick, I can’t do this much longer.”

John walked in with a tray of sandwiches and chips for lunch, the two of them helping Maria sit up so she could eat. “Don’t worry, baby. They’re getting lower and your contractions are getting more frequent. I’m sure it’ll be any day now.”

Maria nodded, her eyes bulging as she felt her babies fighting against her belly button again. John gave Nick a look and the young man nodded, leaving the two of them alone, his mom eating quickly through the stack of sandwiches as Nick peeked through the door at his stepfather caressing his mother’s huge belly.

John smiled at his gravid wife, rubbing her belly and pressing against the strong and overdue babies fighting inside her. He loved having her so big, hearing her moan through every bite of food and kick from a baby. She was utterly huge and miserable and he had never been more attracted to her.

”You’re contractions are getting more productive,” John commented, feeling her womb tighten under his hands as she groaned and grunted. “I think it's time we break your water, baby girl.”

Maria rubbed her belly nervously but eagerly. “I’m…ready…I need them out of me!”

John grabbed the empty tray and set it aside, rolling Maria onto her side again, her belly flopping onto the mattress and trembling as the overdue babies kick and fight against the movement. Her groans and whines only served to make him harder, his hands gripping her fat thighs as he got in position behind her.

”Are you ready? Are you ready to become a mom all over again?” John grunted. He gently caressed her wet pussy, feeling her throbbing and ready for him.

”Yes!” Maria squeaked. “God yes fuck me into labor! I want to have these babies for you!”

John didn’t need to be told twice. In one quick motion he was inside his pregnant wife, feeling her tight folds envelope him and smiling in satisfaction at her lusty moans and cries. “God you’re so tight still. You're an amazing baby mama!”

Maria gripped her tits tightly, the swollen orbs bouncing into her face with every thrust from her beast of a husband. She felt her back and belly tighten again as the babies fought against the movement, not happy that their already cramped home was being invaded.

”Oh god I’m so big! Please break my water! I want to give birth so badly!” Maria cried and moaned as John hit her g-spot over and over again, his hands roaming her body and feeling every inch of what he had done to her. “Please get them out of me!”

Nick was hard as a rock watching between the crack in the door, seeing his overdue and overgrown mother getting railed by his stepfather was a sight to behold, her belly so huge in his hands and him still able to make her beg and moan for him despite being too big to even walk.

John smacked her fat ass, gripping her thigh as he held it up for her and thrust harder into her folds. “I’m…gonna…fuck you…into labor!”

Maria came hard, John plunging himself deeper inside of her as she convulsed around him, her pussy tighter from the combination of orgasm and contraction. Before he could hold back he was unleashing a load into her fertile pussy, watching his wife devolve into a slurry of moans and cries as a gush of fluid squired around his cock.

”Baby! Oh fuck they’re coming!” Maria gasped and grabbed her belly as she felt the first one getting ready to crown. “They’re coming fast, John!”

John smiled and smacked her ass again, pulling out of her and putting his shorts back on as he called for Nick to get the supplies ready. Red-faced and ready, the younger man entered the bedroom carrying towels and blankets as John helped Maria through another contraction, the two of them rolling her onto her back and spreading her legs more.

”Nick, check her dilation while I get some hot water,” John instructed his step-son.

Nick blushed even more as he took a gloved hand and felt inside his mother, hearing her groan in pain as the babies shifted more. “Nearly there, mom. about 8 centimeters.”

”I have to push,” Maria gasped. “Please let me push.”

Nick kept his hand inside her as she bore down, preventing the baby's bulging head from tearing her. “Mom, stop! You’re not ready yet!”

John went and stroked her hair, breathing with her and letting the contraction pass without more pushing.

“Babe,” Maria moaned. “Oh god I can’t there’s too many…”

John kissed her deeply and rubbed her belly. “You’ve got this, mama. You’re the best wife and mom in the world, no one but you can handle this.”

Maria smiled and nodded, tears running down her cheeks as another contraction gripped her. Nick checked her again, feeling her stretch wider.

“You’ve got this mom! It’s almost time to push. On the next one you can I promise,” Nick said as he massaged her under belly.

“Alright, baby mama,” John smiled. “Let’s have our babies.”

A few minutes passed before Nick checked her dilation again, trying to ignore how hard he was for his own mother giving birth. He stroked her pussy again, listening to her moan as he inserted his fingers into her.

“Ten centimeters,” he stuttered. “You can push in the next contraction, mom.”

Maria groaned and held onto her belly, the babies kicking harder as her womb tightened and a scream and groan echoed throughout the room. With a hard push the first baby bulged, her pussy stretching wider for the large head.

“I see the first head!” Nick exclaimed, looking over his moms belly to John who smiled and nodded.

“He’s coming! Catch him!” Maria whined as she pushed again, the baby crowning and popping free.

“The first heads out,” John said, moving to Nick's spot as the younger man grew more pale and nervous. “Go comfort your mother, I got this.”

Nick nodded and quickly moved to sit behind Maria, holding her tight as she pushed again, the first baby coming out quickly, crying and weighing almost ten pounds. John felt the tears in his eyes as he held his first son, quickly moving to set the infant on Maria’s engorged chest.

“Oh he’s beautiful!” Maria cried, holding her new baby and helping him latch on to her nipple. “Mm the next ones coming I can feel them.”

John rubbed Maria’s clit as she pushed, making her moan and her legs squirm as she struggled with the second baby’s larger head. He smiled and rubbed her underbelly, feeling the seven left inside her still kicking hard.

“Almost there, baby,” John smiled, rubbing his fingers around the bulging head and feeling his wife cum as she pushed again, freeing the second infant from her. “Good baby, one more big push.”

Nick held his mom tight as she pushed once more, sitting behind her and letting her head rest against his chest. The second baby, a big 12 lb girl, was soon placed next to her brother on Maria’s chest.

“I…I can’t believe it! There’s still six left,” Maria groaned as contractions came fast, the six still inside her eager to escape their cramped home. “Hooo, John it feels so good having your babies!”

The third one came faster than John could anticipate, his hands barely catching the baby girl as Maria’s pussy stretched around her.

“Slow down,” John cooed. “It’s okay baby girl, you're doing so good. Just breathe.”

Maria moaned and leaned against Nick again, shaking her head wildly, her eyes unfocused as she felt the babies fighting to be next to be birthed. “They’re…they’re all coming so fast! I can’t…I have to push!”

Nick squeezed Maria’s hands and whispered to her “You’re doing great. Breathe with me.”

Nick got Maria to do her Lamaze breathing as the fourth baby crowned, John pulling the overgrown boy free from her with another push.

“Halfway there,” John said. He looked over his wife’s belly at his stepson. “Keep her breathing even, these last ones are going to come fast.”

Nick nodded and kept his mothers focus on him, holding her as she struggled to push through the exhaustion after giving birth to four babies.

“You got this mom, only a few left and then you can rest,” Nick said. “In and out…in and out…”

John took over telling her when to push, not wanting her to strain unnecessarily and exhaust herself more than she already was. After six long hours in labor all the babies were finally born, weighing between 9-13 lbs each, five boys and three girls sitting on their mothers chest as her husband and oldest held her.

“I did it,” Maria moaned, leaning against John and closing her eyes. “All our babies are here.”

“You did amazing,” John kissed his wife lovingly, stroking the heads of his babies as they slept in her arms. “I can’t believe we have our eight little ones here.”

“I can’t believe I finally get to be a big brother,” Nick chuckled.He looked at the exhausted woman and her husband, both of them still glowing and happy despite how tired they all were. “I’ll let you two rest. Call me if you need help, mom.”

Maria hugged her oldest son tight, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, for everything. You’re the best son a mother could ask for.”

When Maria and the babies were all asleep and resting John came back downstairs, finding Nick asleep on the couch. He roused his stepson gently, the younger man sitting up concerned.

“Don’t worry, they’re all asleep and fine,” John whispered. “How are you doing?”

Nick rubbed his eyes and smiled, blushing as he thought about his mom growing even more. “I’m good. Excited. Tired. Are we ready to start the next experiment?”

John nodded. “It’ll take a few weeks for the fertility meds to kick in but once that happens she should get pregnant with double the amount easily. And she’s already proven to be an amazingly fertile woman even without the meds.”

“She’s going to be so big…” Nick mumbled. He shook his head. “What do you need me to do?”

“Any meal she eats I need the drugs to be in. Just ensure that she’s taking them at least three times a day. I’ll take care of the rest.” John winked and clapped him on the shoulder. “She’ll be pregnant again before you start school, I promise.”

[blondielockscherry]

bunny!reader x loser rafe… ^ྀི

mdni 💗 my first time writing..

bunny aka you was the most popular girl in school with every boy obsessed with her. it wasn’t uncommon for you to have girls hate you , it was pure jealousy because in everyones eyes bunny did no wrong her big doe eyes sold you as innocent and pretty. your pretty pink, frilly babydoll dresses made her look easy and approachable but you was different. bunny had a sharp tongue and a attitude your standers where very much high.

it was chemistry class bunny’s weak subject all what the teacher said felt nonsense to you it came in one ear and out the other. you sat in the class with your small little pink dress on overdressed for the low budget high school but you didn’t care. you sat on the table confused, chin resting on your hand. to your oblivion sat just a few seats across her a pathetic virgin called rafe cameron was cumming in his pants to the sight of you. he stared at your perfect lips and pretty perky tits he would just do anything even touch your hair. he kept around a little sample of you staple expensive perfume just to even know what you smelt like. it was more than just a crush more of a obsession.

you chewed on the end of her pencil as rafe watched her from afar he licked his lips nervously as his cock throbbed through his shorts. the way you lips parted around the pencil was driving him crazy. it took a whole lot of courage for rafe to finally speak to her after his pervvy obsession since 8th grade. he had just bought his new glasses yesterday. they where round and sleek but he felt happy and confident. confident enough to speak to the most popular girl ever.

as bunny was assigned to give out the test papers. as you walked around the room rafe was beyond nervous. he slid up his sleek glasses up his nose adjusting them. rafe gulped hard as you approached his desk, your perfume intoxicating. you places the perfectly graded paper on his desk.

“hm A+? smart.” you say to yourself not expecting a response. rafe felt his cheeks flush bright red, stammering incoherently as he clutched the test sheet to his chest. "Uh... thanks... I... I just studied really hard..." His eyes flickered down to her lips briefly before darting back up to meet her gaze.

“yeah.” was your reply. you didn’t expect or take his stutters and sentence to heart your reply was just a shrug off. you didn’t really notice rafe much in class he didn’t speak but he definitely worked hard.

“i kinda just study a lot i like it.” he says smiling softly at her. god he was just pathetic really embarrassing him self in front of her.

“no shit sherlock” was your reply. he giggled softly before taking a drink from his water bottle. she didn’t expect another reply to him. “do you need help.” he just blurted it out. he needed to keep the conversation going he couldn’t stop with the attention he was getting from her.

“with?” was your dumb reply, obviously you knew it was with school. rafes heart raced as he tried to think of something, anything, he could ask her for help with. "Um, with... with anything, I guess. Just... just sit with me for a bit?" He bit his lip, hoping she wouldn't say no. you looked down at him. he was lowkey hot, big biceps, nice eyes, but 10 pound of gel in his hair but he was none the less. but god how pathetic he was pulled you in. he wanted you to sit with him for bit? the thought made you giggle but how could you decline? flirting with boys was your job.

“why not.” you sighed before flipping your perfect shiny hair and sitting down next to the absolute loser. you was doing anything to make this boring class go any faster. “so what do you like to do?” rafes words sounded genuine like he actually wanted to know.

“party i guess” your tone was monologue, it wasn’t a lie you liked to party and drink and flirt.

"Parties? With your friends?" He nodded, trying to picture it. "I've never really been to a party before... I mean, I've heard about them, but..." He trailed off, his gaze drifting back to the sketch. he stopped himself before he could ask if he could come he didn’t want to anyway he knew he would be bullied. in all honestly bunny wasn’t fully even listening to what this nerd had to say.

"Do you, um... drink?" Jesus, what was he doing? Trying to seem cool? “I mean, not that you should or anything..." He could feel his palms getting sweaty.

“yea i drink and god your soo fucking pathetic stupid virgin loser!” he was so pathetic it pissed you the fuck off. how could anyone be so anti social and weird it made bunny wet. as. fuck.

rafes heart stopped at her words, face burning with shame and humiliation. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them back. "I-I'm not a virgin!" He lied desperately, voice cracking.

“don’t be silly… uh..” you trailed off.

“rafe” he corrected, wiping away tears that didn’t fall yet.

“don’t be silly rafe! your cleary a virgin you hasn’t had there dick sucked but i can change that.. for you let me help you…” your voice was seductive.

Rafe's eyes bugged out in shock at her crude offer, his brain short-circuiting.“W-what? You'd... you'd do that for me?" He licked his suddenly dry lips, heart pounding wildly. "I mean, y-yeah, sure. I'd like that” he says wiping away his tears once again. you didn’t always suck random boys dicks from your school but rafe was different he needed this bad and he was so far from sex you almost felt bad for the boy.

“yeah i’ll do it cuz i feel bad for a weirdo like you now what’s your instagram or snap?” you didn’t want his number, only something you could erase and block easy after.

“i don’t have social media.” he said looking down at his feet. typical. his voice was a low whisper scared she would take back her offer.

“I just... I don't really see the point. I'm not really the social type, you know i’m not aloud it too” he fumbled for his phone, pulling up his contacts screen to find his number. "Here, just text me and we can, uh, arrange something.” at this point you prayed his dick was big you watched has he wrote down his digits on a small piece of paper for you to text and call later. luckily, the bell rung as you walked out of the boring class you felt embarrassed for talking with rafe. was there any point in even texting him after this?

my first time writing should i do pt2 it’s poorly written cuz it’s 7am all nighter loll

[foundnthestars]

HI. I bring Questions. >:]

How long are Dipper and Stan in the portal for? I remember you saying it somewhere a while ago but I can't remember

Does Mabel ever get sent back home? (Home being Piedmont)

Tell me more abt Ford. Just. Anything about him. How does he come to terms with the fact his identity was stolen for 30 years? And that he can't even ask Stan about it? Does he ever learn about the kids interactions with Bill? How does he feel about the new entries in his journal? Just. Tell me abt Ford.

Are there any characters you haven't introduced yet who will be important later on, canon characters or otherwise?

HI! THANK YOU FOR THESE QUESTIONS COPPER!! i was out of town so i wasn't able to answer these until now but i've literally been thinking about them all weekend!!

I. this is a question i've given a lot of thought, and i think i've settled with a date i'm pretty satisfied with! i think stan and dipper would be in the multiverse a MUCH shorter time than mabel and ford would be in your traditional drifting stars au. that would mainly be because ford knows where to get materials faster than stan or dipper would in the same scenario — i.e. crash site omega. but it'd still take a while because ford will have to figure out a way to pinpoint their exact location in the multiverse rather than just rebuilding the portal as according to its original design.

so, they'll be coming back right around early summer/mid summer 2014. right before mabel and dipper's sophomore year of high school. mabel would have gone through the 8th grade and freshman year without dipper :( so about 2 years overall — just in time for the twins' 15th birthday!

i have so many headcanons about the twins' high school experience post-portal. sheesh. so much angst potential. but dipper would have to get up to speed in time to enroll in school with mabel, and ford would definitely spend a lot of time tutoring dipper to get him ready for 10th grade. (no better person to teach a triangle-averse, traumatized teen trigonometry than a triangle-averse, traumatized old man!! yay for trauma-informed mathematics!)

II. THIS. THIS. THIS. The Parents. They Haunt Me.

i'm a sucker for realism in fics (i mean y'all know how i obsessed over the capacity of stan's hearing aid batteries for weeks and couldn't let it go) so working out the twins' parents' role in this was definitely a struggle. it needed to be realistic while also allowing very vital plot points to happen. like mabel staying in gravity falls, for one thing.

so many drifting stars fics don't really talk about the parents, and trust me, i get it! it's hard to write and enjoy ford and mabel bonding when you have two devastated, grieving, hysterical, protective parents trying to yank one party back to boring old piedmont where nothing ever happens and plot goes to die. but i also didn't want their parents to wind up being two shallow, underdeveloped background characters who couldn't care less about where their sole child ended up.

in my opinion, no reasonable, sane parent would let their daughter stay with an adult who was the sole party responsible when their son went missing. i also couldn't really see two grown adults from some random californian suburb suddenly becoming okay with the idea that their son went through an interdimensional portal, no less still letting their daughter stay there after hearing about it.

the only way i could see a parent letting this happen was if they decided somehow that staying home was somehow worse than all possible risks. sure, great uncle stanford let dipper go missing right under his nose, but at least he's apologetic about it. that 70-something year-old man is running around the woods at night looking for their son (apparently). that lumberjack girl is crying at the mention of him while swearing up and down that she'll protect their daughter with her life. there's a 20 year old kid who keeps shoving photos of their son and daughter on some fishing trip in their face and bringing homemade baked goods and dishes his abuelita made for them to take home with them.

and what's waiting for mabel in piedmont? nothing good. nothing resembling a healthy family environment. it's apparently bad enough that their normally spritely, energetic, kind, allergic-to-lying daughter is running away from home in the middle of the night. the pines parents are Not Okay, and they know mabel won't be okay with them either right now. there's a messy divorce and an alcohol problem sneakily brewing and until they can get their shit sorted out they'll have to trust ford to take after mabel for a while.

that's the focus of the next chapter! and it's coming real soon! a lot more will be delved into (it won't be as clear cut as them just shipping her away to gravity falls for 2 years) but mabel's here to stay! [TTDR: Nope!]

III. ahhh ford. i can tell you many things about ford.

mabel is just constantly, always talking about stan. what shows he watches. what color he begrudgingly admitted he liked best when they were finally able to take off his bandages after the Color Incident. the way he takes his coffee in the morning. it doesn't matter what. she just Keeps. On. Sharing. ford has no idea what to make of it at first. stan sacrificed the entire universe and put his own niece and nephew at risk and stole his identity and entire life. how is he supposed to forgive him for that? (he secretly wants to know more and never, ever interrupts mabel when she starts talking about him. blue's his favorite, too. the color of the sea.)

ford gets really freakishly good at acting like stan. he hates doing it but he knows he has to if he wants to keep their story going. when he has to make trips into town, he puts up with people asking him about the shack and dipper and why he's passed the mr. mystery torch over to soos. even though he hates that his identity has been entirely stripped from him, he has to admit that it's nice to be liked by so many strangers. his view of stan gets pretty warped because of this. he has to reconcile a lot with the stan he thinks knows (a.k.a his anger) and who he really is to those around him.

mabel is entirely responsible for making ford the soft, family man he was always destined to be. that will play a HUGE role in his and stan's reconciliation and the way he'll treat him when they come back :) (there will be no punching or arguing, thank you very much)

he learns about bill and the kids in the next chapter. he feels many things. none of them good. i'll let you guys read that for yourselves. i loveee when fics touch on ford's reaction to dipper's possession and bill's interactions with them, and ford will NOT be pleased to hear about any of this or bill's recent rendezvous in mabel's dreamscape

when he reads the entries in the journal, there's far less of the "i can't believe this kid scribbled over my life's work" than there was in canon. mainly because ford is deeply, palpably guilty that dipper got pulled into the portal HE created. here's a child that revered him and ended up losing a huge chunk of his adolescence because of it. he can't pin the blame on stan forever. not when he reads dipper's entries and sees the potential in a life that might be lost to bill or to the harsh realities of the multiverse. (he spends nights reading them and imagining what could have been if things didn't go so horribly wrong).

IV. yes! more important characters on the way. pacifica is the only one of them who is actually included in tags for now :) take from that what you will and for what that says for the future, hehe. super excited to introduce her and to write her dialogue !

there are also some other canon characters who are not tagged yet, because it'd be too big of a spoiler, but are MAJOR to the plot. super excited for those chapters!!

as for OCs, they are vital for plot progression and world building for a fic of this nature but they will never overshadow canon characters or be inserted in any major way. just a bit of fun world building coming for those guys!! i had a lot of fun writing acksyien for that short bit so expect more wacky side characters for dip and stan to meet!

[bone-trash]

COD Headcanons

T4T Interlude

Simon and Johnny both being trans but having very different gender experiences growing up

CW: queer/trans sex written by a queer/trans author, references to surgery (it’s not too bad I’m just nervous)

Soap’s a tomboy and the youngest of 5 girls and registers as a very differently type of kid early on for his parents

Rough and tumble, scraped knees, skateboarding, the girls football team at school, climbing up really high and just jumping off for the sheer adrenaline

Mum has to make him wear a bra and it’s a huge fight

The Mohawk also could have been a fight but she cuts her losses on that one

By 16 he’s shagging just about anyone who offers but never brings anyone home so Mrs MacTavish makes a discreet drs appointment and lets him know where prophylactics can be found; she’s a Catholic, not an idiot

He dives into transition with the same speed and enthusiasm he does everything else, within a year of finding out what a trans person is he’s on T and booked for top surgery

He’s not the type to hide anything about himself and sometimes forgets people don’t know he’s trans, this is how Gaz found out

Definitely a Top, getting fucked feels great but if you want to make that happen there’s going to be some (fun) tussling and he’s probably stronger than you.

——

Ghost was always tall and thin and kind of weird, his long straw like hair covering most of his face long before he took to wearing masks

Spent a lot of time looking after Tommy and just trying to survive his shitty home life so gender didn’t come up right away for him

Being tall and thin with a pretty small chest he got “mistaken” for a boy a lot and that never really bothered him the way maybe it should have

Got as much surgery as the military allowed him to (top surgery - keyhole) and experimented with T he bought illegally online

Has a phalloplasty and his arm tattoos conceal the scar

Demi-sexual (aka Johnny-sexual) and craves a lot of physical intimacy (not always sexual)

Needy-ass Bottom, Service Top if you want. Really likes being bossed (and tossed) around/talked through it and he bruises like a peach.

——

They clock each other immediately…well kind of (Simon doesn’t know that Johnny knows he’s trans too, at first)

To be fair Johnny is kind of a type of trans man, loud and shorter than average and well muscled and it takes a Simon a minute to realize that yes he is attracted to him, Fuck.

Simon is not as easily picked out by someone not trans, he’s been stealth a long time and his height does him a lot of favors as does his voice but he’s got a vibe that Johnny picks up on right away

Simon the kind of person that sexual assumptions are made about, he likes to think that he’s a flexible partner but usually balks when he’s approached by a stranger for down time

When they finally crash into one another Simon tries to explain that he can be whatever Johnny needs and he needs him to know that Simon’s like him and that this isn’t some fetish thing

Johnny blinks for a couple of seconds before saying “Love, why dae ye think ah’m here?” And tackling the big man onto the bed behind them and taking him apart

——

Hey! So this one is a little different I know but I had alot of fun writing it! Lots of credit needs to go @monsterpegger001 for helping me with some lovely ideas! T4T Ghoap is a force of nature and it took me days to do it justice. Love yall! ✌️💀

[thegeeksideofsr]

Over Heated

An: just a lil silly fic, not proof read

***********************************************

Florida. The job has to be in Florida during the hottest month of the year. The kind of heat that makes you irritable and constantly sweaty.

Best way to survive at this point is shorts tank tops and an AC unit on high enough to make a room a freezer.

The job was a relatively quick and easy. But now we have to wait for our flight tomorrow, at two in the afternoon.

The team is currently occupying a table in a pub. Good food, cold drinks, and music that doesn't make me want to kill someone.

The thought of cool shower and the bed awaiting me is helping with the homicidal urge. And food helps too, I suppose.

The only downside to the hotel is that I have to share with Eliot. Not that he's a bad roomie, he's actually excellent. Neat and thoughtful, especially because someone thought it would be funny to put us in a single bed room, and that someone knows that I like Eliot a little bit, and now we have to share a bed, the others all got rooms with double beds. And Eliot and I were the only co-ed.

I'm gonna kill Hardison. Slowly. Maybe I can make it look like an accident.

"So, you're tellin' me, you got scurvy?"

Eliot's low voice pulls me from my day dream.

"I almost got scurvy," Hardison explains. "Nanna caught it before it got bad and made me drink like a gallon of orange juice a day. Was not fun. You know what happens when you consume that much fruit? It's not pretty. I'm tellin' you it was like a -"

"Ew Hardison!" I exclaim, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. "TMI, dude. TMI."

"Damnit, Hardison."

"What's scurvy?" Parker asks, mouth full of food.

"It's when you're body doesn't have all the nutrients it needs, specifically vitamin c. You get it from fruits and vegetables, and if you don't get enough of it you get real sick," Eliot explains.

"It's why El and I try to feed them to you and Hardison and much as we can," I add.

"It's not anything to worry about really," Hardison says with a smirk, while waving a french fry around. "It's not a thing. Parents made it up to make kids eat their vegetables."

"Oh, interesting." Parker shrugs and continues to eat.

"No, Park-" Eliot starts, running a hand down his face to rest over his eyes. "Damnit Hardison."

I shake my head, then turn to Nate and Sophie to see if they want to be any help, but they are completely oblivious, having their own conversation. Giving each other bedroom eyes and thinking they are being subtle.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

I look down to my plate. My food is already gone and my drink only has a swallow left.

I grab my cup, down the last of the liquid, then push away from the table.

"Alright. I don't have the patients for this. Hardison, good luck trying to undo this one."

I turn and walk away, when Hardison yells after me.

"Hey! What about your bill?"

"You get to cover it for telling Parker that scurvy isn't real."

I flip him off over my shoulder as I open the door and leave.

The restaurant is only a few minutes walk from the hotel, so I don't have to be out in the heat long, thank goodness.

I walk through the front lobby, waving to the young woman, Gemma, behind the desk, then to the elevator up to my room.

The building is cool enough, AC on throughout, but once I unlock my door , heat floods out.

Damnit. One of us must have forgotten to turn the AC on before we left.

I enter the room, like walking into an oven, across the room to the AC unit.

Opon inspection, I find that no matter the buttons I push, nothing comes from it.

Shit.

I go to the phone on the side table and call down to the front desk, the call answering after a couple rings.

"Front desk, how can I help?"

"Hi, Gemma, I'm in room 302, and the AC unit is not working and it's an oven in here. Is there any body who could take a look at it?"

"Oh, shit. I will call maintenance to check it out, and have a couple fans sent up in the mean time. I'm sorry for it going out."

"That's alright. It not your fault. Thank you for your help."

"Of course. Maintenance should be there in a few minutes."

"Alright, thanks."

I hang up and flop back on the bed.

The air stale and unmoving.

I get up to open the window, standing next to it and enjoying the air. It may be hot outside, but the air moves.

A knock arrives on the door after a few minutes.

I go to the door and open it to reveal an older gentleman with a tool box in hand.

"I hear you are having some AC problems," he says.

"That I am. Please come in." I gesture for him to come in. "Thank you for coming. I hope you can fix it."

"I'll do my best," he says as he begins to examines the unit.

I sit on the bed and watch him take of the front of the unit, exposing the inner workings.

He tinkers and grumbles for a few minutes, before standing and turning to me.

"No good." He says, shaking his head. "One of the lines is broken and we don't have the parts on hand. It's out of commission until I can order the parts."

My heart sinks.

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Alright," I sigh. "Thank you for trying."

"You're welcome. Why don't we go ask Gemma if there is a empty room for you."

I nod, then get up and grab my room key and wallet. Then follow him out and head to the lobby.

Once there, he explains to Gemma about the unit, and asks if she could find another room for me, then head of towards the back.

I step up to the front desk, resting my arms on top, as she begins to type.

"Is there anything available?" I ask.

She gives me a sympathetic look, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she says. "Everything is full. The earliest I could get a room is tomorrow afternoon."

"We leave tomorrow."

I close my eyes, and run my hand over my face.

"It's ok. You said you had some fans?"

She nods.

"We do. I will have them sent up. They aren't as good as an AC, but it'll keep the air moving."

"Thank you, Gemma."

As I turn to head back up to my room, I see Eliot come in the entrance.

"Hey," he greats. "What going on?"

"I'll explain on the way up." I tell him, then walk towards the elevator.

Heim following behind.

Once in the elevator, I explain what happened.

"Great." He groans as he tosses his head back.

Once we get back to our room, the fans have already been dropped off, so we place them around the room to try to cool it down.

"Alright," I sigh, digging through my suitcase for clothes. "I'm going to shower."

"Why? Just gonna get hot again." His tone dripping in annoyance.

"Yes, but I'll be clean and hot." I snip back.

I grab my clothes and slam the bathroom door behind me.

The water is cool and refreshing. It takes away some of the frustration I had towards Eliot, but I'm still annoyed at him.

Once I'm done I put my pjs on, shorts and a tank, hopefully I'll be cool enough overnight.

I exit the bathroom to find Eliot, sprawled across the bed, right arm propped behind his head as he holds his book in his left.

He's only in his tank top and boxers, and the way he's laying, the hem of his top has ridden up to expose some of his stomach. And his arms are now on display, the fake tattoos Hardison and I placed yesterday are now visible, no longer covered by his button up.

The sight sends a heat through me, not helping in the slightest in the oven of our room.

I walk to my suitcase and shove my dirty clothes in.

"You okay?" He asks.

"I'm fine."

He then mutters something and goes back to reading.

I roll my eyes at him, crab my book and settle on the bed next to him, shoving a spare pillow between us.

We stay that way for a few hours, not talking, but at least it wasn't awkward.

When the words on the page begin to blur together, and read the same paragraph over again, I finally decide to put it away and get some sleep.

I tuck my book mark in, and place it on the nightstand, turning the light off, and shuffle down into the bed.

"Goodnight, Eliot." I say as I get comfortable.

"Night," he grumbles.

He moves a few minutes later, turning off his side lamp and settling in bed.

We lay back to back, like we have the past few nights. The only difference now is that it's like a sauna now.

I lay in the bed, blankets tossed off to the foot of the bed. I can feel Eliot radiating heat.

Rolling over, facing him, trying to find some part of the sheets that might be cool still. And I do, but it's gone in a flash.

I can make out his profile in the dark. He lays on his back, hand over his stomach, breathing shallow, and still as a board.

"You're staring," He mumbles.

"No m'not."

"You are. And to jostle the bed every time you move."

"'M just trying to get comfortable but I'm hot."

"So'm I. But I'm still trying to sleep."

I huff, sitting up on my elbow, leaning over him slightly.

"Easy for you to say. You aren't laying next to a radiator. Do you know how much heat you put off. It's like an oven in here, and you are putting off heat. How do you expect me to be able to sleep when it's this hot. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get heat exhaustion or -"

He moves so quickly I don't have time to react. He grabs my side in one hand and pushes me back into the bed. His body is pressed into mine as he pins me to the bed. Not so that I can't get away at all, but to make me stop moving for a moment.

"I have slept in worse conditions, and survived. So, you better quit complaining about how hot it it is, before I get you a reason to feel hot."

We lay there, body's pressed together. His eyes glow slightly with the light from the street lamps.

"That a promise?"

***********************************************

I sit at the table of the hotel's dining room table, head resting on my hand trying to wake up.

A hand on my shoulder gains my attention, I open my eyes to see Eliot's hand placing a mug of coffee in front of me.

I smile at him in thanks as he sits next to me.

The first sip is warm and comforting, mixed up perfectly. Of course it was.

"What's that on your neck?" Parker asks, pointing to the mark on my neck.

Her question is like a bucket of ice water dumped over me.

I look to her, bring a hand to my neck. I thought my hair had covered it, but it must've shifted.

"Um, I burned it, on a curling iron," I lie, hoping she'll except it.

"But your hair isn't curled. And Eliot has a similar one."

I look to Eliot, his gaze fixed on Parker, his expression neutral.

My gaze falls from his face to his neck, and sure enough, on his neck hidden by his hair, is a bruise I had left last night.

He finally looks at me, but before either of us can say something, Hardison, Nate, and Sophie join us at the table.

We all exchange groggy 'mornings' before Parker breaks the silents.

"She said she burned her neck with a curling iron," she points at me, then to Eliot. "But he has the same kind of mark, and he doesn't use a curling iron."

My face gets hot. I lean my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands, trying to hide from the rest of the team.

"Got damn!" Hardison exclaims. "You did the nasty!"

***********************************************

[akindaflora]

Say it with Conviction

Bangchan (idol) x Reader (Fluff)

Warnings: Thoughts about depression, Insecurities in not being enough, Some kissing and some suggestive themes were mention. Bangchan is called Chan, Channie, and Christopher.

Description: Morning depression hits you hard as you awoke in your lover arm. He finds you crying and he comforts you with words of passion and truth expressing his love for you.

Author note: Hey gang was feeling major morning depression and I just couldn't help but think about Chan and how he might comfort a lover in deep insecurity about their relationship. Instead of mopping I wrote this. Now glad that I did because in a way it did help me feel less alone in my little delusional bubble. Hope this warms you as much as it did me when writing this story. :)

WORD COUNT 2,357

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have always dealt with deep depression since you could remember. Always sad on days you should be the happiest scared for the start of a new year wondering if worse things will come. But when you got together with Chan, you did your best to hide the sadness away. Afraid he would leave like all the others did when they found you crying over nothing or laying in your bed like the wakening of a funeral.

“You are always sad, why can’t you see the good in the world,”

“You are so self-centered it’s not always about your problems,”

“I can’t take it anymore Y/N it’s your birthday and all you can do is be anxious,”

“You need help and I just can’t be it,”

The phrasing of words from past lovers cut through your heart like a knife. Constantly afraid you were undeserving of love and constantly holding back to show only the best sides of yourself. It had been a problem with most of your relationships. And yet while you tried to build your walls so high only a few ever stood up to the test. Your close friends who'd never let you shut them out and to your surprise Chan.

That was the most surprising thing about your relationship with Chan. Every time you tried to push him away he’d do something unexpected getting a laugh out here and there. Finding the root of the problem before you could even find the words to explain. Even going so far as to wash you when the world was heavy. And he never said a word against it only that you should always feel comfortable talking to him about anything. He made it his purpose that you were to always feel love even if he was miles away. And when you simply needed space to process he would give you it but never stopped at making sure you eat by sending a few deliveries here and there. Sending a bouquet of your favorite flowers with simple love notes that remind you why he loved you.

Even when you felt alone he was always there. Apart of you was afraid that one day he’d wake up and leave. Walk through the door and never speak to you again but every day he found new ways to stay. Planning trips so you always had something to look forward to. Buying matching clothes or jewelry so you’d both have a piece of each other no matter the distance. He always did his best to respect your boundaries and still somehow pushed the limit that you didn’t know could be pushed.

But as you lay on his chest listening to his heartbeat you couldn’t help but to let a few tears slide down your face. If there was one thing Chan was scared of in your relationship it was your tears. “You never make a noise when you're sad, please find me don’t close yourself off, you don’t even have to say a word,” he would say as he would caress your head and hold you like it was all he was ever made to do. And while you wanted to wake him up you didn’t. The voices in your head had been growing these days. Reminding you of all the things he did for you but what did you do for him?

Nothing

The voice ranged deep in your head reminding you of feelings you did your best to talk yourself out of. As if he could sense your sadness in his sleep his hand that rested around you tightened pulling you closer to him, his spirit trying to remind you that you were his everything. Tears fell from your face even more like a damn breaking gushing from your eyes. You thought about getting up to whip your eyes before he woke but you remained frozen in his warmth more afraid to ruin the sleep that he desperately needed. No matter the painful thoughts telling you to leave him before he did. You couldn't, he is everything you could have ever wished for.

With that thought you carefully tilted your head to look at him. He was smiling in his sleep, your heart clenching at your lover. You slowly brought a hand to his face pushing away the wild hair that peaked towards his closed eyes. And softly you fell into a trace slowly running your hands on his nose. Softly touching around the shape of his lips. He slightly shudders at the feeling of your touch and his eyes slowly opening. His hand sleepily looking for your face but his eyes shot open at the feeling of your tears.

“what’s wrong baby,” he said voice groggy with sleep as he turned to face you not letting go of your waist. “did you have a nightmare?” he said whipping the tears from your eyes. You only smiled at him, your morning sadness slipping away at every touch.

“It’s nothing do you want breakfast?” you asked stroking his cheek as his eyes looked at you with worry frowning only a bit at your dismissal of your own emotions. He studied your face looking deep into your eyes searching for whatever may be the cause to make you cry so early in the morning.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you cry, tell me what’s wrong I'd find a way to make winter stop if it made you too cold or hid the sun away if it made you too hot. There is nothing in this world that’ll stop me from caring even about the simplest things that make you cry, tell me please so I can find a way to bring you peace,” he said with urgency. You only smiled quietly at his determination to bring you joy.

“but I'm happy right now see I'm smiling,” you said giving him a light peck to ease his mind. “your the reason I'm smiling now so you have nothing to worry about,” you said running you fingers over his furrowed brow you began to try and leave the bed. Key word tried. Chan didn't let go only pulling you closer. Rubbing softly at your back gliding up and down from your arms as he looked see into your eyes.

“Yeah but I found you crying, why didn’t you wake me what do I always say,” he said but as he started you said the words in sync, “Always find me” him giggling at your joking expression. “it’s nothing to worry about I promise,” you said after he still didn’t let go. He only pulled you in more in response. Your head back to his chest as he caressed your head. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Tightening your arms around his waist.

After what felt like hours only a few seconds he spoke again into your head. “You know when you say it’s nothing, I get afraid that you’ll leave. I’m afraid that I’ll never be your cure anymore,” he said quietly almost in a whisper. If you weren’t so close you’d probably miss it. Your head rose from his chest quickly as you looked into his eyes sternly. “I would never leave you, Chan, if anything I’m more afraid you’ll leave me thinking I’m too much or too little,” you said caressing his head softly. Trying to push away the fear from his mind.

“Is that why you were crying this morning,” he asked quietly. Putting your head back in his chest you sighed. He always found a way to wiggle the truth out of you. You both never being good at hiding from each other. It was always scary how well you both could see each other and how easy it was to confess your darker sides. But yet you never ran from it. If anything it brought you both closer like it did in this moment.

Tracing shapes on his chest you began to whisper out, “I’m afraid I don’t do enough for you,” you said quietly. He remained quiet as if giving you space to explain more as his grip tightened slightly. “You do so much for me love, you give me space when I need it, you buy me flowers and food and you even help me wash when I can’t. I’m afraid all I do is take from you. I’m worried I don’t add up to you,” you said with a bit more courage. He pulled back slightly pulling you both up to sit and look at each other but he didn’t let go. Fear ranged in your eyes as he did so worried that your words had woken him from this dream to a nightmare of reality.

He looked in the distance as if trying to find the words. This is it said the voice in your head he’s gonna finally break up with you.

He took a deep breath before looking at you carefully reaching for your face to rub away the tears that flowed with ease. And he softly kissed your forehead before he spoke.

“My love, you do more for me than you can even see,” he said with determination. “I’m never leaving you if anything you’d leave me. You do so much for me. When I’m sick you take care of me with such care. When I get hurt from practice you force me to rest and even go so far as to find ways to ease my pain. You make me lunches with cute notes that taste only of your love. When it’s my birthday you make me the most beautiful cake and get only the most thoughtful gifts that I don’t even think about. When I’m stressed from work you give me massages that help ease my mind. When I go to bed sometimes I get too excited to sleep because I can’t wait to experience another day with you. You fill my mind even when I dream it’s only about you. You’re so caring and kind and you have these moments of true bliss that I work hard to keep on your face. Hell, even now when you are crying you are more worried about me. You are my everything I'd never leave you.” In between every sentence that left his mouth, you couldn't help but smile gripping onto him as if he disappeared and he did the same looking into your eyes with worry as he said each sentence. But no matter how worried he was there was a fire of determination to prove his love was real and that you were his end game. “if anything I'm trying to find ways to keep you with me forever. I’d plead to the gods just to have you again in another life,” he said again rubbing your cheek as you laughed.

“Your obsessed with me aren’t you,” you said sweetly looking into his eyes. He only nodded smiling at your smile. “Good because I’m just as obsessed with you,” you said back. his smiling deepening as he rushed to take your lips.

“You’re forever mine,” he said in between pecks. You giggled at his possessives. “And your forever mind right,” you asked questioning. He looked at you with slight confusion a small pout. “Say it with conviction,” he said looking into your eyes studying your face as you smiled again, “Your forever mine,” you said this time with just as much determination as him. He smiled as he peck your lips.

“Louder,” he said simply. “say it again but louder,” he said again pleading running through his voice.

“YOUR FOREVER MINE,” you said again. Him slightly wincing at your loudness but he giggled as he pecked your lips again.

“And don’t you dare forget it,” he said going back in for a longer kiss. Deepening as your lips moved. You sighed happily feeling every loving thought every loving touch he tried to tattoo upon your heart your soul.

The kiss grew with urgency to help you remember this moment for the next time that stupid voice was in your head.

He suddenly pulled away but not before pecking the areas of your face. You giggled in response, “Channie” you said softly with giggles still slipping from your lips. He pulled back so he could kiss your lips softly only touch your lip as if stamping his love with approval.

He pulled back again this time picking you up in his arms as he led you to the kitchen. You laughed loudly and slapped his chest softly.

“What are you doing,” you said as he walked looking down at you with a smile.

“Oh nothing just taking the love of my life to the kitchen so we can have breakfast together,” he said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Your heart beating at his words and looking at his face for any lies or anything foul but as you looked you only found his love for you. You only leaned up kissing his cheek. “And what does the love of my life want to eat,” you said whispering in his ear. His cheeks blushing at your question.

He smirked a little something naughty brewing in his mind, “I’d say you but sadly humans have these things called stomachs and while I think you are more than enough I guess I can settle for some pancakes and maybe if you're keen I can have a little nibble of you,” he said setting you down on the counter. You looked away as a deep blush settled onto your face. Still to this day, you could never understand how he could be so sweet and charming to so devilish in a mere second.

“Christopher,” you said covering your smile as he only laughed kissing the side of your head. “chocolate or blueberry,” he said simply in response pulling your face back to his own smiling face.

“Chocolate,” you said back with your own smile. But as you tried to get off to help with the ingredients he shook his head keeping you there. “Nope not today,” he said rubbing circles on your hips with his thumb. “Today my love gets to sit pretty as I make them breakfast,” Your face forming to protest but he silent you with a kiss that linger only slightly before pecking again.

“If you're really itching to help you sit their and tell me hot I am when I mix the batter,” he said again. You only laughed at him, “your egos so big,” you said looking lovingly into his eyes. He only scoffed, “How could I not be when I get to wake up to the love of my life every morning,” he said inches away from your lips.

You only pushed him away before he could kiss you again, he looked slightly offended at you pushing him away but smiled as you blew him a kiss, “You dork just go make the pancakes and maybe I’ll cheer you on hot stuff,” you said jokingly his smiling winding at your words as he caught your kiss bringing it to his heart.

Oh yeah, you guys were definitely stuck with each other. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After reading notes: hahahaha I hope I didn't fill your delusions too much. But when looking for my own stores to read I can't help but feel a lack of soft Chan moments. He always written as the leader and this tough steam engine that could if you read the feugo like stories. And while I don't disagree with him being this hot dom, I can't help but to crave more of his softer sides that we get to see pop out every once in awhile when he decides to make his presence known in content. I treasure those moments because it reminds me that he still gets to feed into that inner child every so often. I just hope he feels as loved as he does with Y/N in this. Sorry brb gonna go write in my diary about being obsessed with some random Idol that doesn't know I exist. Ha very much feeling spain again. RIP :(: Hope you enjoyed, write again soon.

[hkevisvlsvso]

Oh finally made oc

(Thanks to @zeroskiis who did the oc generator :3 i started to create this because of it but i fell in love with him and made him like really detailed)

So,

Yapping about my oc:

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Basic information:

Name: Lucas Salix Baresi

Age: 16(or like the same age as everyone in the series i just thought it all like as aged up)

Pronouns: he/him(male)

Nationality: 🇩🇪/🇮🇹

Sexuality: panromantic, demisexual

Team: Siegers

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Appearance:

Skin tone: ligh(i think?)

Eyes: gray

Hair: dark brown, messy and uneven hair that reaches roughly a little below the shoulders, and messy bangs (I tried to draw his face, the end result was scary, maybe you'll get a picture of his face someday, if I ever get anything even remotely good done)

Nose: straight and long nose bridge(i don'tknow how to describe it :D...)

Face shape: pretty angular

Special things: his left eye injured when he was 4 yo. Can't now say anything of it cause i don't know how these eyethings work but like there's no pupil or iris and the whole eye is smaller and lower than the other if yk what i mean? He could of course use a glass eye but it looks more cool without it :3

Clothing style: like... downtown boy, crunge, sometimes a bit punkish and everything between these, or just the basic dwk-core clothes :')

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Just some random information:

Hobbies: soccer, skateboarding, making songs, his parents forced him to take guitar lessons so he learned chords there and now he's saving money for an electric guitar cause it would be cool to play it, and he enjoys making lyrics too

Favorite food: nuggets :3

Likes: skateboarding, waching people drawing, rain, night, adrenaline, climbing on things and buildings that are illegal to climb, high places,speed,freedom, peace, writing

Dislikes: his parents, being stuck in some people or places or situations, apples

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Some lore/idk just everything you need to know about him:

☆ he lived next door to Michi when he was like 0-8 years old so he became friends with Michi. When he was 9, his dad got a good job and they became rich(well, not rich like Deniz or Markus but they had been like really broke before) and moved to a more expensive and big house. Lucas transferred to another school closer to his new home, but he still spent time with Michi in his freetime. One day Michi introduced Lucas to his schoolmates and Lucas started hanging out with them all and that's how he became a part of Siegers. Lucas lived quite far from all the other Siegers, so he wasn't always with them, that's probably why it took so long until he even heard of the Wild bunch. Once when he was just playing soccer alone, Deniz saw him and they played together and spent the whole evening together, but Deniz didn't tell about his team. They had fun and Lucas thought that Deniz is really cool and wanted to be better friends with him, but before he could tell Deniz his address, his mom just came to him and told him to come home, so lucas just said bye and ran away cause he thought it was embarrassing. Then like 5 days after that when lucas was chilling with Siegers, they saw the Wild Bunch(yea i still have no idea what to call them :'D). Lucas saw how mean Michi was to them, and saw how cool the Wilden Kerle looks and saw Deniz there and Deniz looked at lucas and looked firstly a bit shocked and then just angry and Lucas immediately knew he wanted to be friends with the Wild bunch and kick Michi's ass but he couldn't do it. At some point, when Lucas is an angsty teenager, he starts to argue with his parents often and be less and less at home and more and more hang out with Siegers. He doesn't want to be their friend anymore but he doesn't have anyone else so he has to be with them or be alone. Of course he would choose to be alone, but if he leaves Siegers, he becomes their enemy, and no one wants to be enemies with Siegers. Hanging out more with Siegers means seeing more The wild soccer bunch too, Lucas just looks at them and wants to do something while the Siegers are beating them. He wants to hang out with wilde kerle (and Adam!! Lucas has seen him too and said like two words in his life to him, but he thinks Adam is cool and wants to be his friend). But he is stuck in siegers and hopeless lonely shit. What happens next? Does Lucas leave the siegers? And if yes, will he ever become friends with Wilden Kerle? Can the wild bunch ever forgive his past? The story is not over yet...

(Oookay what the fuck)

☆ he has come out to almost everyone else in the world except his parents(they are really strict and conservative)(lucas is trans if i haven't told it already, i don't remember :') )

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Ohh hell yohh tried to draw his clothes:

[eikichi-supremacy]

hey so do you think wtv keiko had to deal with growing up with yusuke could be considered a type of parentification

[hershelwidget]

TWO MORE TO GO

Caleb and Darwin have arrived!

Finished these two in record time! I also had them in more dynamic poses to make up for how out of character the other two were (cough cough Beast)

Caleb possesses the Gup-C, while Darwin has the Gup-D! Much like the two before them, they borrow some design points from their main drivers, but it is a lot less obvious now.

Face closeups!

(oh whoops lmao i didn't think darwin would be so close- ah well)

Next up is Emma and Felix! They will be the last of these for a while... At this rate you'll at LEAST get snippets of Emma's design by the end of the month.. I am struggling very hard with Felix :(