#he does finally actually ask I swear 😂

[verfound]

FIC: "Of Suitable Proposals" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

Prompt 35: Rhythm

When he finally started to come to, Luka wasn’t sure where exactly he was, but the smell and the feel and the steady rhythm of the heartbeat playing strong beneath his ear sure felt a hell of a lot like home.  He felt like he’d been sleeping forever, which…he probably had been.

He never slept well on the road.  He slept enough, but he never felt as rested as he did in his own bed with Marinette sleeping beside him.

…he was really starting to hate touring.  He hated being away from her.  He hated the constant circus touring with Jay was.  He hated…

The bed…no, not the bed.  Marinette shifted beneath him, and he felt himself sinking into her with a sigh.  He didn’t hate this.  He loved this.

…he loved it more when his body didn’t feel like he’d been hit by a truck.

Everything ached, his limbs feeling heavy and sore in that way they did when you’d slept too much.  He was pretty sure…he vaguely recalled getting up…some time ago, because he’d had to pee.  He kind of sort of remembered staring at his reflecting in the mirror as he’d washed his hands, thinking he looked like shit before his eyes had dropped to his chest, where his own face had been staring back at him.  He couldn’t remember why he was wearing his own merch – there was some fuzzy idea about Crusher and curry and this was why he hadn’t asked Dingo to hit the road with him yet – but he was quickly ripping it over his head and tossing it towards the hamper they kept in the linen closet.

That was…it was…people like XY wore their own tour shirts.

At least the ones with their own faces on it.

(He had, both ironically and unironically, worn the shirt with “Luke Stone” stamped in fancy letters across his chest.  That one wasn’t as obnoxious, and sometimes helped in busy airports.)

He must have made it back to the bed, because he was pretty sure that’s where he was now.  In bed, with Marinette, where he was supposed to be.  He had no idea what time it was, though, or how much had passed.  He had thought it was light out when he’d gotten up earlier, but those were streetlights coming in through the open window.  And that was definitely Marinette under him, but he wasn’t sure how awake she was.  Her heartbeat was steady, her breathing even, but her fingers were lazily dragging through his hair.  Her other hand…was on his arm, absently stroking along his bicep.  He sighed and turned his face towards her, his nose squishing as it poked against her sternum.

“Are you finally waking up?” her soft voice came from above him.  He hummed and dropped a kiss between her breasts.  She giggled in response.  “Luka?”

“Not sure,” he sighed.  “Pretty comfy right here.  Don’t think I want to move yet.  How long…how long was I out?”

He yawned in the middle of it, and she hummed as she tugged gently on his hair.

“Over a day,” she said.  “Almost two.”

He pushed himself up at that, startled eyes staring back at her.

“…no,” he said.  She giggled and moved her hand from his arm, reaching for him, and there was something…he froze again as he saw Gina’s ring glinting in the low light from the window.  His eyes widened, a look of horror on his face.  “No…”

“You were exhausted,” she said.  “Penny said you’d had a rough couple of days.  You needed it, star.”

“Marinette, why are you…did you go through…my bag,” he groaned as bits of the last twenty-four (forty-eight?) hours started to come back to him.  He grabbed at her fingers, his brow furrowing as he stared at the gleaming pink opal shining up at him from a very specific finger.  He hadn’t…he hadn’t actually…and had she…he would remember proposing to her, wouldn’t he?

“Penny brought it by this morning,” she said, curling her fingers over his and smiling.  “Everything’s fine.  It actually was on the plane – just mislabeled.  It’s ok.  See?  Your bag was fine.  The ring was inside.  It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, shaking his head.  “Darning, you…why are you wearing it?  You weren’t supposed to know.”

“You told me,” she said, as if it was obvious.  And maybe it was, because he kind of remembered her  being there while he freaked out over losing the ring in the first place?  “When they lost your bag, you told me what was in it.  It’s ok, Luka.”

“It’s not,” he insisted.  “Did…did I actually propose?”

She bit her lip, and he groaned as he dropped his face against her chest.

“No.  No, no, no, no, no…” he groaned.  “Please tell me I at least remembered the candles.  Rose said there had to be candles – she’s going to kill me if I forgot the candles.”

Marinette grew silent for a moment.  Long enough that he started to worry, but when he looked up at her she just looked…surprised.

“…oh,” she finally said, shaking her head.  “You…you mean you did have a plan?”

“Of course I had a plan,” he said.  He winced at her look.  “Well…parts of a plan.  I knew it had to be romantic.  Rose was helping – and Tom – so I’d do it right.  Big gesture kind of thing.”

“It really didn’t,” she said, touched but also slightly baffled.

“You love that stuff,” he insisted.

“I love you,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “The rest is just…details.  Filler.  Icing – not even that.  It’s sprinkles.”

“And you love sprinkles!” he said.  “Mari.  Please.  I know you.  Tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

“You didn’t,” she insisted.  She looked back at the ring and bit her lip, a little frown creasing her brow.  “…I might have, though.”

“…what?” he asked.  She sighed and pulled him down towards her, and for a moment he was too lost in how good it felt to be home and kissing her to remember he was supposed to be freaking the hell out.

“Penny told me to give the stupid ring back.  Take it off before you woke up.  Penny’s always right,” she sighed, and at his frown she bit her lip.  “You…you didn’t actually ask, Luka, but you did let it slip, and that was as good as asking for me.  But you…actually, you were really adamant about the fact that you were not asking.  Not until you actually had the ring, at least.”

He…kind of remembered that?

“Because I was supposed to ask you right,” he huffed.  “Big, romantic gesture.  I was supposed to actually have the ring.  It was all supposed to mean something.”

“…well, that’s just stupid,” she said, shaking her head.  She tugged on his hair again, and he groaned as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder.  “Of course it means something – you’re asking me to marry you.  That very much means something, Luka, whether you have a ring or a big proposal planned or not.”

“I was working on that,” he sighed.  “Failing at that.  Nothing felt good enough.”

“Will it matter anything if I tell you I really don’t care how you ask as long you just do?” she sighed, bringing her hands up to cup his face.  Her thumb brushed beneath his eye, and he sighed as he leaned into her touch.  “Seriously.  Luka, I was never expecting a big proposal from you.  I…honestly, I always expected you to do it by accident.”

“…what?” he asked, chuckling slightly.  “Marinette.  Give me a little more credit than that.”

“No, seriously!  I was waiting for you to just…ask.  Spontaneously.  Because I said something dumb and you thought it was adorable, or you got into one of your artistic moods where you started comparing my heartbeat to Pachelbel or something –”

“I would never,” he laughed, but she just lifted an eyebrow at him because he had compared it to Beethoven.  Once.

(…and classic Jagged another time, but he had regretted that the second he’d said it and had never brought it up again because who wants to think about their dad when they’re…ahem.)

“My point, Luka, is you are not a planner, and this…this feels like us, doesn’t it?” she asked, tapping the finger with the ring against his face.  It felt heavier, though he knew that had to be in his head.  The ring wasn’t really that heavy – not enough to notice a difference.  Still, it felt…  “You losing the ring and accidentally telling me about it because you were too tired to think straight.  That…that’s so us, don’t you think?  More than some big, elaborate, ridiculous thing?”

“Rose would argue I’m cheating you out of romance,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“I love Rose, I do, and you know I love romance, but…maybe conventional romance isn’t our romance?  What about us has ever been traditional, Luka?  You’re a Couffaine, for Pete’s sake,” she huffed.  He chuckled and kissed her.

“At the least you deserved a nice dinner,” he hummed.  “I know you love seeing me dress up.”

“I do at that,” she sighed, kissing him again.  “Almost as much as I love seeing you dress down.”

He chuckled, and she blinked as she leaned back.  He hummed, nipping at her lip to try to get her kissing him again, but she shook her head.

“No, that’s not…I mean undressing you.  After you’ve dressed up.  Or down.  Or…stop laughing, Luka, you know what I meant,” she huffed, but he was still chuckling as he tucked his face against her neck.  He pressed a kiss there before pulling away to grin at her.

“So maybe you give it back and let me take you to dinner tonight,” he suggested.  “Act all surprised when I get down on one knee.  I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to get down on one knee, at least.”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “With your knees?  You’ll never get back up.  Too many stage slides and superhero antics, remember?”

“Hey!” he laughed, bumping their noses together.  “My knees aren’t that bad yet!  I’m not that old!”

She laughed and kissed his cheek, as if apologizing for the slight, and he sighed as he turned his head and caught her lips again.  He felt like he had too much time to make up for, and he knew what they were talking about was important, but…

“My point, Luka, is that it doesn’t matter,” she said after a moment, tugging on his hair to keep him from distracting her again.  “Take me to dinner to celebrate the engagement, if you want, but I’m not taking it off.  I don’t want to.  It belongs there, as much as I belong with you.  I like wearing it.  I like being Marinette Couffaine.”

And oh, if that didn’t sound amazing…

“…it’s just an engagement ring, Marinette,” he said softly, all traces of humor gone from his voice.  He closed his hand over hers and brushed his thumb against the opal.  “I mean.  Technically it’s not, I don’t think, but Gina said you’d always loved this ring, and it felt…you do like it, right?  You’re not mad that it’s not very…traditional?”

She yanked his face towards hers, kissing him harshly.  Her fingertips pressed into his cheeks almost painfully.  He was a little dizzy when she finally let him go.

“You are not getting this ring back, Luka Llewellyn Couffaine,” she bit, her voice low and almost growling.  “It’s mine.  You are mine.  I love this ring, and I love you.  So just ask already so I can officially introduce myself as the future Mme. Couff–”

He pushed her back into the bed, his mouth back on hers and his hands grasping her own and pressing them into the pillows above them.  She started laughing, and that just made him want to kiss her more – until she squirmed and lifted her hips against him, and then he was reminded that she was there and his fiancée (technically) and he hadn’t seen her in three months…

“O…ok,” he panted, running his nose along the column of her neck as her hands moved along his sides.  “Marry me already.”

She grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling almost as bright as the opal fire in her ring.  Maybe brighter.

…definitely brighter.

“Why, Luka Couffaine,” she said, smoothing his hair back and grinning up at him.  “I thought you’d never ask…”

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: you meet up with your favorite biker guy to backpack him for a day, and things get very heated very fast.

— CW: 18+ only! meeting up with a stranger (don’t do that), putting out for a stranger (oops, i’d fold if it were biker!rafe too), biker guy!rafe, semi public sex (it’s at the top of a parking deck thing😭😂), fingering, hair pulling, male receiving oral, unprotected sex, ass and pussy slapping (like once), lots of dirty talk and praise.

— a/n: ah fuck. my obsession with biker men got the best of me here. my wet fucking dream. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

❥ ride — r.c

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I had been following him on Instagram and TikTok for months, and he lived in my town! So when I finally found the courage to send him a DM on Instagram joking about backpacking him for a day, I never in a million years imagined that he would actually respond — and say yes!

I’m finishing up the final touches of my makeup in front of my full length mirror that sits in the corner of my room when I hear my phone go off, letting me know I have a text.

Standing from the floor, I make my way to my nightstand and grab my phone. I open it to see that he has texted me.

Rafe: Hey! I’m out front whenever you’re ready.

I smile at the text and type out a quick response. Pocketing my phone, I rush to slip on my high top converse and grab my hoodie, tossing it over my head and rushing out of my bedroom and front door.

Making my way down the steps I come to a stop at the bottom, my breath catching in my throat when I see him leaned against the side of his bike. He looks deliciously good today. He wears a pair of tight, black jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. He pairs the outfit with a pair of white Nikes with a black Nike check in the middle of either side.

He doesn’t have his helmet on, and the sight of his bright blue eyes sparkling under the sun has my thighs tightening. He never shows his face on his social media, only his eyes if he flips the visor of his helmet up, and he rarely does that. He has the most perfect full lips, a defined jawline and his hair sits messy on top of his head. This man is the epitome of perfection.

“Y/N, right?” He asks, his low voice pulling me from my trance.

I swallow the saliva that’s built up in my mouth from looking at him and nod my head quickly. “Yeah, that’s me! Rafe, right?” I ask. But I already know. The bike he came to pick me up on lets me know it is in fact him.

He smiles widely. “That’s me. You ready? Have you ever rode before? Even just on the back?”

My hands begin to slightly shake, all of a sudden clammy. I’m nervous. But who wouldn’t be? This gorgeous man, with a large following on social media is here to pick me up, and take me riding with him for the day. Any woman in my position would be nervous too. Well, not all women, but the women like me.

“No.” I answer honestly. I watch his lips quirk up into a smirk, and I internally fist pump that he didn’t change his mind. Happy that he didn’t say “never mind, it’s not worth the hassle of teaching you”

He takes a step toward me, reaching his right hand out for me to take. I place my hand in his and pray that he can’t feel how nervous I am. He leads me toward his bike, releasing my hand and grabbing the extra helmet he’d brought with him. He turns, and when his blue eyes land on mine again, I swear I feel my heart skip a beat.

“I’m just gonna slide this on you, that okay?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He nods once and then moves to slip the sleek black helmet over my head. Once it’s on good, his fingers move down to the straps under my chin. When his fingers brush across the skin, a shiver runs through my body. Once he has it strapped in place, he steps back and lifts the visor so he can see my eyes. “Fits perfectly. You look cute in that.”

I laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

He gives me one last smile before turning and grabbing his own helmet, placing it on his head and strapping it in place. He turns to face me again, and my panties grow wet at the sight in front of me. I don’t know what it is, but him with his helmet on is so fucking sexy.

“‘M just gonna press this button on your helmet, it’ll allow you to hear me while we’re riding.”

I nod my head and stand still as he steps toward me again, pressing a small button on the helmet I didn’t know was there. He steps back and asks, “Can you hear me?”

I giggle. “Yeah, I can hear you. That’s so cool!”

I hear him chuckle and the sound makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Yeah, me and my friends bought these so we can communicate while we ride, if we get separated and can’t use our hand signals. Plus, it’s fun to fuck with them this way too.”

He turns back to his bike and grabs a pair of black and white riding gloves from a drawstring bag, shoving them on his hands before turning to me once more. He claps his hands together and begins explaining the basics of riding on the back.

“So, I’ll hop on and you’ll sit on this seat behind me, and place your feet on these pegs.” He pats the seat and points to the foot pegs. “While we’re riding, wrap your arms tightly around my waist, and if I lean in a certain direction, you lean with me. It makes it easier to navigate turns and what not.” He pauses again, thinking of what else he needs to go over. He finally speaks again. “Oh! And if you get scared or want me to slow down, just tap my thigh. It’ll let me know to slow down for you.”

I nod my head and let him know I understand. Satisfied with everything he’s told me, and knowing I’m comfortable he tosses his drawstring bag onto his back and climbs onto his bike, starting it up. The engine roars to life and he turns his head to face me, nodding it toward him to let me know I can get on. I swing my right leg over the back of the bike, setting my ass onto the seat and wrap my arms tightly around his waist like he’d said to do.

I hear him through the speaker in the helmet as his hand taps my thigh. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

-

An hour later, Rafe is pulling up to the top of a parking deck. The two of us had rode non stop for the last hour, and to say it was one of the most exhilarating and memorable experiences of my life would be an understatement.

He pulls the bike to a stop, shutting off the engine and putting out the kickstand before he climbs off. He keeps his hand on my thigh to keep me upright as he gets off the bike, and then he grabs at my left hand and helps me off next.

I pop the clip of the straps under my chin, letting them fall loose before I pull the helmet up and off my head. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the knots that had formed during the ride. After a few seconds of — and actually failing — trying to tame the knots, I finally decide to just toss my hair into a high ponytail.

As I’m securing the ponytail holder in my hair, Rafe’s voice catches my attention. “So, was it everything you thought it’d be?”

I finish putting my hair up and turn to smile at him. “Absolutely. That was… So much fun.” I breathe out.

He smiles and takes two long strides toward me, making my breath catch in my throat and my thighs tighten. This man is so fucking sexy it hurts, and the fact that I’m alone with him, it has my heart pounding and my pussy throbbing. But we don’t know one another, nothing would ever happen between us. He was just being nice today, allowing me to ride with him. I bet he does this a lot. I’m nothing special.

Once he stands directly in front of me, I swear my knees almost give out. His intoxicating scent fills my nose, the warmth radiating off his body envelopes me. He reaches his right hand out, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I gotta say, you looked absolutely beautiful on my bike.”

My heart begins pounding rapidly in my chest, my hands shaking. I swear, this man is going to be my downfall. If he asked me to drop to my knees right here, right now, I don’t think I’d have the strength to tell him no.

I laugh nervously. “Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself on there.”

A wide grin spreads across his lips, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. He cups my cheek with his right hand, brushing his thumb across my skin. “Can I kiss you?”

My eyes go wide. Did the Rafe Cameron just ask if he could kiss me? I have to be dreaming right now. My eyes find his, searching for any sign that he’s just fucking with me. But I never find it. His blue eyes are darkened over, and hold nothing but seriousness in them.

I feel my legs turn to jello, and the only thoughts running through my mind are his lips on mine. His cock buried inside my wet cunt, down my throat. My eyes flick down to his plump lips and back to his eyes. He takes my silence as an invitation, dipping his head down and pressing his lips with mine.

The kiss starts out softly at first, but then he quickly deepens it. His tongue glides across my slightly parted lips, a low groan emitting from his chest before he forces his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues brush against one another, fighting for dominance before he finally wins. My entire body is on fire, my thighs tightening and my arousal soaks my thong. Fuck, I need more of him.

When he finally breaks his lips from mine, we’re both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling as his lust filled eyes search mine. I decide to be bold, the worst he can do is shove me away, right? My right hand slides between our bodies, finding his hard cock and palming him through the rough fabric of his black jeans. He hisses in a breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby. You sure you want this?”

A shiver runs up my spine at the low, raspy tone of his voice. Sexual tension is thick in the cool fall air, making it feel warmer than it is outside. My entire body screaming at me to let him have me, while my mind is screaming to run the other way. I don’t know him. I only follow him on social media. But he’s so fucking sexy. He’s so confident in himself, and I need to feel what it’s like to have him. Even if it’s just a one time thing, even if he is a stranger to me, my body fucking craves him like a drug I can’t get enough of.

My eyes find his and a mischievous smile forms on my lips. “I’m sure.”

I feel his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his jeans, and I smile knowing that it’s me who has this man all worked up. He slaps my hand away from his hard-on, his own hands quickly working the button and zipper of his jeans. He slides the black material down his legs, before shoving his boxers down as well, the material pooled at his feet. His strong hands grip my shoulders, shoving me down to my knees.

I wince when my knees hit the hard concrete beneath me. I shake away the feeling of the rough ground digging into my knees through my jeans, and focus on the hard, long and thick cock that stands erect in front of my face. I bite at my bottom lip before lightly grasping the thick base of him in my right hand. I stroke him softly, running my hands up and down, from the base to the swollen pink tip. Removing my hand, I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down into my palm before gripping him again.

I stroke him softly, toying with the head of his cock before running my hands back down the base. He growls in frustration, his hands falling to the back of my head and gripping at the high ponytail I’d put my hair into. He yanks my head up, forcing my eyes on his. “You like playing games? Suck my fucking cock, baby. Or else I promise, when it comes time to please you, I’ll play the games right fucking back, and you won’t like it when I win.”

I smirk up at him, letting out a small whimper at the tone in his voice and the feeling of his hands in my hair. He loosens his grip on my head, allowing me to drop my head back down. My tongue darts out of my mouth and I lick up the vein that’s on the underside of his cock. He moans when my tongue reaches his tip, now red and angry as precum leaks from it. I slide my tongue over the slit on the tip of his dick, gathering his precum onto my tongue. I close my eyes and hum in appreciation. “You taste so good, Rafe.”

He growls, his fingers wrapping around my ponytail once more and shoving my mouth onto his cock. He shoves himself all the way down my throat, pulling a small gag from me. I look up at him through my lashes, his head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. Slowly, he pulls my head back, strings of my saliva coating his dick.

“‘M gonna fuck this pretty mouth, then, I’m going to bend you over this fucking bike and take you from behind. Alright?”

I whimper in response and he lets out a dark laugh. I suck in one more breath before he shoves himself back in my throat. Tears fill my eyes as I breathe through my nose. His thrusts are harsh and sloppy, his tip repeatedly abusing the back of my throat. But I don’t fucking care. This man can fucking ruin me, and I’ll thank him when he’s done.

The sounds of my gags and his grunts fill the air as he continues to abuse my throat. His thrusts begin to grow sloppier, his dick swelling in my mouth. I feel him twitch inside my mouth and then he’s yanking my head back, spit attached to his dick and my mouth go flying at his roughness.

I suck in an appreciative breath of air, my hand over my chest as it heaves up and down. He wraps his fingers around my left arm, pulling me to my feet and turning me so my back is to him. “Jeans down, now.” He demands, and I quickly obey.

My jeans are pooled at my feet, the only thing left covering me from him is the black lace thong I chose to wear today. I gasp loudly when I feel his hand slap harshly against my ass, the sting it left behind delicious. He runs his fingers over my clothed pussy, and I can’t contain the moan that slips free. “You’re fucking soaked, baby. All f’me?”

I nod my head, tears falling past my lower lashes. “Yes. Fuck, yes. All for you, Rafe.”

His fingers slide my panties to the side, baring my soaked pussy to him. I hear him groan from behind me. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. I can’t wait to feel it squeezing my cock.”

He runs his fingers through my wet folds, gathering my arousal on them before he shoves to inside me without warning. I cry out, my back arching and allowing him better access. He slowly pushes two thick digits in and out of me, his thumb pressed firmly against my clit and rubbing lazy circles around it. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. Gotta stretch you out before I shove my cock inside you, think you can handle a third finger?”

I whimper, my head falling forward and dangling over the other side of the bike. “Yes.” I say breathlessly.

He lets out a low growl before adding a third finger into my sensitive pussy. “That’s it baby girl, take my fingers. You’re almost ready for my cock.”

Whimpers and whines fall from my lips, my hips roll against his hand, fucking myself onto his fingers. The squelching noise my pussy makes while his fingers fuck me have my mind going fuzzy and my toes curling within the confines of my high top converse.

I feel myself clench tightly around his fingers as that warm feeling builds inside me. My orgasm nearing. I clench around him again, my legs shaking uncontrollably as I come undone around his fingers.

He quickly pulls his fingers from inside me, the hand that was just fucking me slaps harshly at my now overly sensitive cunt, making me scream. “Fuck me, Rafe! I need you inside me, now! Please..? Please fuck me.”

He chuckles, and I turn my head to see him with the three fingers he just fucked me with shoved into his mouth. He sucks and licks them clean, pulling them out and giving me a mouth watering smirk. “Taste so fuckin’ good. Gonna have to take you home with me after this and devour that sweet cunt of yours.”

I sigh in frustration, wiggling my ass back and forth, silently begging him to fuck me. I hear him step toward me, and then I feel his swollen head running through my slick folds. His head teases at my entrance before he slowly pushes it inside me. “Fuck!” I shout, and he chuckles. He slowly pushes himself inside me, inch my inch until he’s buried inside me, his balls lightly brushing at my sensitive clit.

He groans. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. Pussy feels s’good wrapped around my dick.”

I let out a soft whine when he slowly pulls himself from inside me, slamming himself back in seconds later. His hands find my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to roughly fuck himself into me. My tits are smushed against the seat of his bike, my head dangling over the other side as my hands grip at the foot peg in front of me for balance.

Each push and pull of his cock has me seeing stars, my legs turning to jello once more. A feeling of pure euphoria washes over me, and I know my second orgasm is about to explode from me. “Goddamnit, Rafe! ‘M so close, so fuckin’ close!”

One harsh thrust has the band snapping and my pussy pulsing. My second release washes over me. I lift onto the tips of my toes, screaming his name out to the world as I come undone around his thick cock.

He doesn’t let up, he continues pounding into me ruthlessly. My body goes numb, my brain foggy and blood rushing to my ears. All I can hear are the sounds of his balls slapping against my pussy and the wet, squelching noise my pussy makes with each push and pull of his hips. He lies his front on top of my back, his lips ghosting over my ear as he whispers. “Hope you’re on birth control, ‘cause I’m coming in this sweet fucking cunt.”

I whine, my eyes rolling into the back of my head when I feel his cock swell inside me. He places a hot kiss on the sweat slick skin of my neck, his teeth sinking into the skin when his dick twitches inside me. He lets out a low groan, thrusting forward once more before he still inside me, letting the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside me. Marking me with his seed.

He lies on top of me for a few seconds, breathing heavily before he slowly pulls himself from inside me. A shudder wracks my body at the feeling of his thick cock sliding out, leaving me feeling empty and suddenly cold.

He pulls something from his bag, bringing it between my legs and wiping me clean. I look at him from behind my shoulder, and give a small smile. Once he’s finished cleaning me up, I fix my panties and lean forward to pull my jeans back up my legs. It’s awkwardly silent, and that alone makes me uncomfortable. Does he regret what we just did? Does he wish he didn’t have to make the awkward ride back with me back to my place?

All the thoughts running through my mind vanish when I feel his lips on mine. “Stop that.” He says once he pulls away.

I frown. “Stop what?”

His hands cup my cheeks and he smiles down at me. “Thinking. I can see it written all over your face.” He pauses, kissing the top of my forehead, and the act alone has my stomach erupting with butterflies again. “I meant what I said, I’m taking you home and devouring that sweet cunt, you got a thirty minute ride to prepare yourself for a long night baby.” He says with a wink, and then he turns to get us ready for the ride back to his house.

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[fic-dumpster]

How would bonten be like meeting your family? Would they get along or not or even expose some stuff by accident?

Tbh, I think something could happen and it doesn’t go as planned. Let’s pretend for this scenario that Doe has a family… 😂 . Anyway, Anonie… sorry it’s years late but here we are trying. I just rewrote this so I’ll edit it later!

Bonten x reader

WC: 1320

TW: Fluff, revers harem, sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, fb!Mochi, gun, sappy/cliche ending, kinda uh… weird. It’s a mess.

You’ve been preparing this week’s dinner for almost two months. Arranging everyone’s schedules and thinking of ways to explain to your family how you have… more than one partner.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell your family about them. It’s just that the subject was never brought up before and your parents weren’t so concerned about prior relationships, but what you had right now was beginning to turn into something more serious.

So, yeah. Here you are waiting for your parents and the guys to arrive. Which turned into you having to distract your parents because nobody was home besides you and they were not picking up their phones.

You left messages to each one of them with phrases like…

“Sanzu Haruchiyo! I swear to whatever is holy to you that I will have you maimed and hanged when you get home!”

or

“Mikey!!! I will put all the sweets on the highest shelves and throw all the stools away! See how you’ll manage! And no boobs!”

or

“Kakucho? Baby? Please pick up… I’m worried.”

Well, you were fuming and trying your best to pretend everything was in order. Until you heard the door open and steps closing in. Finally someone!

But all your relief flew out of the window when you saw none other than Mochizuki Kanji walking towards you with a big smile on his face.

Oh, hell no… they were so dead. Each and every one of them was so dead.

“Honey!” You visibly tensed as you heard Mochi’s boisterous voice greet you like that.

“Mo-Mochi! Ho-honey!” And so playing along it was.

You were actually grateful at the end of the night. Mochi was such a great guy. You would have cried if you didn’t have to act too. He treated your family so nicely and your parents loved him.

Mochi had your dad enchanted with his baseball and stock market talk. Then your mom was so in love with him too. No complaints at the end. On the contrary, they were so proud of you for finally finding such a wonderful person.

As happy as you were for a successful dinner. You were internationally seething.

Once your parents left and the house was cleaned. You arched your eyebrow and directed an inquisitive look at Mochi.

“So?” You asked after a while.

“Something happened… I know, I know.” Mochi dragged his hands over his face and sighed. “You have every right to be mad, but let me ex—“

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking alerted you of their arrival, and multiple footsteps followed to confirm the quantity.

In a flash you had Mochi’s gun in hand, the poor man panicking after you and not even the devil himself could stop you now.

“Are any of you injured to the point of being at death’s door? Are you all alive and kicking?” You asked in a solemn voice. “Well?”

“We–we’re good…” said Kokonoi who was the closest to you watched a very worried Mochi stand behind you and shake his head in silence. Was he warning them not to do what?

“Good,” and with that, you pulled the gun that was too big for your hand.

A bunch of screams and alarmed voices came in from the seven men standing at your entrance.

“Baby— wait! Baby!”

“We– it’s not– Y/N!”

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

“Y/N, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

So you took the safety off which earned you more screams and Sanzu hid behind Kokonoi, Rindou took cover in Ran’s back and Mikey was lost in the tumult of panicking men.

“Mochi why did you give her your gun!?!” Takeomi asked as he harshly pushed against the door by Sanzu trying to get as far away as possible from the barrel of your gun.

“I didn’t! She took it!”

“This is your fault!” Ran blamed it all on Sanzu. “You taught her how to use one! We were against it!”

“Shut up! All of you!” They all went quite deadly fast. “I had dinner with my boyfriend!” As you spoke, you moved the gun at each one of them and they all jumped back scared it would go off. Even Mikey was eyeing your shaking hand like a hawk. “So I don’t know who you all are! Go away!”

Again, you pointed the gun, they jumped and they also crushed Takeomi against the door for the tenth time. While the other screamed, Takeomi was grunting in pain at this point.

“Can we explain?” Kakucho asked with his hands up to show he surrendered.

“And you are?” You saw hurt flash in Kakucho’s eyes once your words were out, but you needed to stand your ground. They had done it this time. “Sure, explain unknown man.”

“But please can you put the gun down?” Kokonoi was sweating buckets from the way you waved the gun everywhere.

“I’m not gonna—“ and just like that it went off against the wall where the Haitani brothers stood. You heard Rindou screaming and Ran cursing every color of the rainbow.

You crossed eyes with each one of them and threw them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, maybe I should put it down…” putting the safety back on, you handed it back to Mochi with a second apology in tow.

With your attention back to the group in your entrance you saw Rindou having a… moment…

“Oh my God! I almost died! Raaan! I saw my life flash through my eyes!” Rindou was crouched down hugging his brother’s leg. Said brother had a tired face on… like this was a common occurrence.

“Sanzu, this is your fault too,” Kokonoi added to the

“How is it my fault?!” Sanzu exclaimed with indignation and fury.

This calmed down after a bit. Reluctantly, you let them in and sat down to explain. You heard their excuses, the emergency at work and called bullshit until Mikey spoke last.

“We were scared.” He began with his signature seriousness and almost sad eyes. “Look at us. We aren’t the guys you take home to meet your mother.” As he kept talking, you saw how one by one they all turned their eyes away, sour looks and empty faces. One after another. “Mochi at least has the looks to pass as a normal civilian.”

You nodded, understanding where they were coming from. Pink, purple and white hair… tattoos all over their bodies… and scars… your heart broke for them. But your fury wasn’t gone just yet.

“And you think I care? You think I care what they think?” You stood up and walked over to Mikey, holding his shoulders tightly as you spoke. “If anyone, even my own family, speaks ill of any of you, I would have thrown them out. And never looked back. Understood? I… I have my own life here… a family… that we built together.”

Even if you wanted to add more to your speech, you weren’t able to. An avalanche of bodies suddenly rained down on you and the next thing Mikey saw was a cluster of bodies on his feet.

You could barely breathe under Rindou’s arm and probably Sanzu’s leg. Kakucho and Kokonoi tried to wrench them away but it was fruitless. Both were moaning and crying about the family they built with you. Ran facepalmed at his younger brother’s behavior but smiled nonetheless.

“Wait, where’s Takeomi?” You asked having not heard the man in a while.

“Here!” Everyone saw the eldest Bonten member at the kitchen counter with a first aid kit. “I’m just patching myself up.”

“But you said you weren’t injured?” You said from the floor and in between two sobbing men.

“I wasn’t…” Takeomi winced as he applied a bit more ointment. “yeah, having six people push you against a door was awful. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Meanwhile, Mochi cried in a corner as he saw his family happy together.

[meowzfordayz]

hic-cup

Author’s Note: sending get-well-soon vibes to anyone currently experiencing the hiccups. 😔😂

hic-cup

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~1,100

CW: dark humor

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Recently work has been very hectic, and I've been a little anxious about personal things...I really would like something cute! If possible, could you either do the Hashira, KNY squad, or the upper moons (you can pick! You write all of them super well!) With a reader who has bad, but very cute, hiccups?

~faqs~

When you have the hiccups…

… Zenitsu thinks you’re dying. Well. Not really, but the way you gasp for air and clutch your chest has him worried and running to get you water nonetheless. If you lie down on the floor, then he will lie down with you and press his ear to your heart, listening for irregularities.

… Inosuke’s overwhelmed by the urge to poke and squish and smoosh and squeeze you. “Stop that!” he growls, arms crossed irritatedly. “Stop wh-*hiccup*-what?” you huff. “THAT!” he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at you, “You sound so, so, so-” “So what?” “SO CUTE.” Eyes widening, your cheeks warm, nose scrunching, “Ino-*hiccup*suke, I-” “It’s like you want me to pop you,” he grumbles. “Pop me?????” “Stop being adorable so I can stop wanting to kill you.”

… Gyomei simply smiles every time you hiccup. Do not ask him to smack them out of you… a broken rib (or three) is much worse than the hiccups. “Pleeease? They won’t go awaaay!” “My love, you really shouldn’t ask me to harm you.” “Harm me?!” you scoff, “Don’t you have control or something?” Affronted, he nods slowly, “I suppose I have control…” “SO HIT ME.” Sighing, he lightly pats your back, whiiich doesn’t help, but it’s the thought that counts!

… Obanai pretends to be annoyed, but is lowkey disappointed when they eventually go away. “Shut up,” he scowls, glaring as you do your best to swallow another hiccup. “Can’t,” you mutter, flicking his shoulder, “They won’t g-*hiccup*-go away.” “Then I’ll make them,” he mutters darkly. “Oh really?” you raise an eyebrow, amused now, “And how exactly will you make them go away?” His mouth opens, closes, and opens again, exhaling loudly in defeat. “Admit it, they’re kinda cute,” you grin, nudging his side, “I’m kinda cute.” He doesn’t respond, opting instead to quickly peck your cheek, blushing profusely even as his glare deepens.

… Tanjirou has a plethora of ideas to ~help you. From having you chug a glass of cold water, finding a paper bag for you to breathe into, slicing a lemon for you to bite into, attempting to jump scare you, and making you hold your breath until you nearly pass out, he’s ultimately sorely defeated by your hiccups’ persistence. Hiccups 1: Tanjirou 0. When they finally disappear, you promptly credit his expertise and efforts, regardless of how delayed their effectiveness was.

… Mitsuri giggles until she also ends up with the hiccups. You’re just so darn beautiful, and your hiccups sound so darn happy! Like yawning near each other, if one of you hiccups, then the other is bound to follow.

… Shinobu offers you a sympathetic, “Oh dear,” paired with a fond smile, and continues about her day. If they’re persistent, then she’ll utilize the placebo effect in an attempt to help aka she’ll give you “medicine” (it’s sugar water, but sometimes it helps). Occasionally, she’ll ~threaten you, “If you hiccup again, then no kisses!” to a lesser degree of success, but it’s mostly endearing to watch you try so hard and fail so miserably (if this actually bothers you, then she only does it once, but it’s really just an inside joke).

… Kyojuro tries to get himself to hiccup too, but the man is Hiccup Proof™. “What’s your secret?!” you whine playfully, pouting as another hiccup jolts your body, “I swear you inhale all your meals, but never experience the hiccups!” “I keep nothing from you,” he frowns slightly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek, “If I could provide better help, then I certainly would!” “Kyo, it was a rhetorical question.” “Rhetorical or not, if I knew a secret, then I would tell you!” “Sooo remind me to never tell you any secrets,” you chuckle, eyebrow raising pointedly. “My love, your secrets are safe with me!” he exclaims earnestly. “Just not anyone else’s?” you drawl teasingly. He pauses to consider your remark, and then shrugs nonchalantly, “Precisely.”

… Sanemi taxes you, and it increases exponentially. “Pay up,” he smirks, palm held upright toward you, “I heard that.” “Y’know, hiccuping isn’t a crime,” you mutter. “And you didn’t have to play along,” he grins smugly, “But you did.” “Well I felt badly about distracting you,” you retort, frowning as a thought occurs to you, “Although, now you’ve changed tasks completely!” “Have I?” he questions lightly, eyes widening innocently. “Yeah, all you’re focusing on is my hiccups and extorting me for spare change!” “If you stop hiccuping, then I could return to my earlier task.” “I can’t just st-*hiccup*-stop!” you whine, still dropping more coins into his hand, “You’re the worst.” “I love you,” he deadpans, winking as he pockets your money, “Maybe I’ll buy you something nice with my extra income.”

… Muichiro says, “Bless you,” after every single one. “But Muichiro, I didn’t snee-*hiccup*-sneeze!” “Bless you.” “Why are you-” “When you sneeze, for a moment, your soul leaves your body, and the blessing is to prevent it from being stolen, yes?” … “Yes?” “When you hiccup, are you not running the same risk?” … “No?” Unperturbed, he shrugs, smiling faintly, “Well, I appreciate you and your hiccups, so I suppose blessing you is my way of expressing my appreciation.”

… Giyuu’s constantly startled, even when you’re occupying the same space. *hiccup* Ah! his eyes widen, a subtle yet observable reaction to your sudden noisiness. *hiccup* Ah! he blinks, another subtle yet observable reaction. *hiccup* “Are you faking it?” he finally mutters, cheeks faintly flushed as he fixes a gentle stare on you. “Faking w-*hiccup*-what?!” “Your hiccups.” “Why would I fake having the hiccups???” “Never mind.” “Am I bothering you?” “Not quite,” he murmurs, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand, “I hope they go away soon.” Smiling fondly, you raise his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “Me t-*hiccup*-too!” No way is he admitting they ~frighten him.

… Tengen claps excitedly, enthusiastically celebrating your ~unique sound. “How flashy, my dear!” he exclaims with a grin. “Flashy?” you blink, unimpressed. “Hiccups are so rare and so fun!” he explains, “What an interesting phenomenon!” “You have a thing for hiccups,” you deadpan, eyes rolling. “Not at all! I’m just trying to support you through this unfortunate event.” Scoffing, you poke at his chest, “Sooo are my hiccups flashy or unfortunate?” “Both!”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Omg I have a Boone request if you’re taking any! reader is a new team member and has a crush on him but he’s so standoffish towards her cuz he also has a crush but he just like shuts down around her. Maybe she ends up confessing cuz she wants to get it over with and it ends w smut where he’s a little more subby 👀 also if you can add something where he like helps her into the truck or just does something w his arms in general 😂 I’ve been obsessing over his arms since the rocket scene 💀

I am absolutely taking Boone requests! Let's give him the respect he deserves!

sub!Boone x dom!fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) hurt/comfort

You were nothing but excited when you had gotten the DM from Tyler. He had seen your videos on YouTube. He loved your work and approach to storm chasing that he knew he had to ask you to join the team. Everyone had been excited for your arrival. Well, everyone except Boone.

Well, not at first. At first, he had actually been super on board, looking forward to someone new. But then you showed up on the scene in your short shorts and the man was done for. You were smart and pretty? That was definitely a lethal combination.

And then you reached your hand out for him to shake and it was soft and warm and he immediately wondered what it would have felt in other places. It was as if you were trying to kill him with the bright smile on your face as you introduced yourself. His knees were weak and he didn't like how he was so close to swooning.

And the thing about Boone was that he was not a fan of love. Well, for other people, it was great, but for him? Forget it. He had been burned once and that was enough to swear off romance altogether. He would sleep with countless people, but immediately put it to a stop as soon as feelings were involved.

So, he did the only thing he knew how. He choked his feelings down and began treating you like you were gum on the bottom of his shoe. You'd try to speak to him and he'd just turn the radio up louder or just flat out ignore you. And he felt like a dick for it. You were just being friendly and he completely shut you down.

And what made it worse was when you watched him laugh and joke around with the others, only further proving that he didn't like you even though everyone tried to convince you that it wasn't true. Boone was really just a teddy bear and you were wondering if maybe you had just caught him on a bad day.

But the fact was, Boone just didn't like you. Had even convinced himself of that, in fact. He didn't like how Tyler let you take over without asking for anyone else's approval. You hadn't even been there a year and you were already allowed to take the reigns? Hell, not even Boone was allowed to do that and he was Tyler's right hand for gods sake.

And the worst part of all was when you took his spot in the truck, the front seat now occupied by your ass that he couldn't stop staring at. And it was even worse when your perfume would linger on the interior, that sweet, smoky smell that wrapped around him like a blanket. It was intoxicating and he could just imagine pulling you to him, burying his face into your neck and having a whiff for himself.

"You should tell him," Tyler whispered as you found yourself staring at Boone who had been at the gas pump for the last few minutes. Watching him and the way his arms would flex as he worked made your brain short circuit.

You wanted them to wrap around you tightly as his lips crashed to yours, the thing quick and sloppy, taking his time with you as you were pliant under his touch. You wanted to feel his mustache scrape against your upper lip, making the skin red from how roughly it was moving against it.

"Tell him what?" You asked, finally pulling your gaze from the man to look at your friend who was next to you, leaning against the truck.

"That you like him," Tyler replied in a tone that supposed to make the whole thing obvious. You just laughed in response. You did not like Boone. If anything, you just wanted to fuck him to get him out of your head.

"I don't like him."

"Right, then why were you staring at him like you wanted to climb him like a tree?"

"If anyone needs to admit their feelings, it's you. When are you going to tell Kate?" You looked over your shoulder at the girl who was laughing with Javi and Tyler paused, completely caught off guard by your question.

"This-this isn't about me," he stuttered. "This is about you and Boone and your obvious feeling for each other." You laughed again, wondering where the hell he was getting that from. Boone had made it very obvious that he didn't like you so you didn't know why Tyler kept insisting that it was true.

"Okay, one, I don't see how this is any of your business, and two, I don't like him and he certainly doesn't like me. So let's drop it, okay?" You were now getting frustrated, though you didn't know why. Well, maybe you did know and just didn't want to admit it.

The truth was, you had been crushing on Boone from the very beginning and had honestly thought you had been subtle until Tyler had called you out. Because it was embarrassing admitting that you liked someone who so obviously hated you. You didn't know why, but you actually kind of found it to be attractive.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n," Tyler winked as he nudged your shoulder and opened the passenger side door for you and helped you into the seat just in time for Boone to see.

He finished up with the gas then hurried to get in the truck before it drove off. He was forced to sit in the middle between Lily and Javi. And by some stroke of luck, he looked up just in time to see you pulling down the visor to look in the mirror. You then pulled some lip gloss from your purse, catching Boone’s gaze in the reflection. You made eye contact with him as you swiped the gloss over your lips so slowly, torturing him as his mind was reeling with places where he wanted to leave marks with the brown color.

His mouth went dry, the simple action driving him crazy. You had only done it to see if Tyler was right and now you had the man right where you wanted him, not missing how he had rested his hands in his laps, desperate to cover his cock that was threatening to tent in his pants.

As you tried to sleep that night, all you could think about was Boone. You always tried to push him out of your thoughts, but this time, you let him stay, living absolutely rent free there. Your thoughts were nothing but filthy as you imagined the two of you between the sheets of your bed, in every position possible. And the sounds…the sounds. They were enough to make you orgasm right there. They sounded so real and vivid and all you could hear was your name being uttered through moans and gasps as you took exactly what you wanted from him.

The next morning was rough as you hadn’t gotten any sleep. You had spent most of the night either with your hand down your underwear or staring at Boone’s phone number, trying to get yourself to text him and ask him to come over. You eventually settled for pleasuring yourself and found that even though it had satisfied you, that it was nothing like the real thing.

You watched a truck pull into your driveway and your eyebrows furrowed as Boone got out of the driver’s seat before leaning against the door, looking like he would have rather been anywhere but there. You were really going to have to talk to Tyler since you knew that Boone being your ride had to have been his doing.

You took your sweet time putting on your shoes before fleeing the house, making sure to lock the door before heading over to the truck. The ride hadn’t even started yet and you were already dreading it. Why couldn’t Tyler just leave it alone? Why was he trying so hard to prove that you and Boone had feelings for each other?

Boon was quick to move to your side of the truck and he opened the door for you before holding his hand out for you to take. You just blinked at him, staring down at his hand completely dumbfounded.

“I want to help,” he said, his tone sugary sweet which was not what you were used to hearing. In fact, you were sure that was the most he had ever said to you in the months that you had been working together.

“Oh,” you replied, eyes wide as you slowly put your hand in his before he helped you into the truck, trying to not stare at his arm as it flexed, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was so easy to get distracted by him.

You were so distracted by his muscles that you hadn’t been aware that he was staring at your ass and the way your shorts were hugging it. If he had any more confidence, he would have given it a squeeze, wanting to hear your little yelp as he did so. He wanted to stick his hand into your back pockets as he kissed you senseless, cupping your ass as you pushed him against the side of the truck.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him and he almost didn’t hear you, letting his dirty thoughts get in the way.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back and once you were in the seat, he closed the door and rounded the front of the truck, muttering to himself about how much of an idiot he was. If he hadn’t been so stuck on treating you like shit, maybe the two of you would have been together. But of course he had gone and fucked up any chance of that.

Boone climbed into the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition before putting the truck in reverse, his hand landing on the back of your head rest as he did so. He then brought it to sit on the center console and you stared at it for a second, trying to figure out if you wanted to hold it or have it wrapped around your throat.

You then turned to look at him as he hummed along the song that was playing softly through the speakers, letting his free hand tap to the beat on the center console. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe you did like Boone and were just pushing your feelings down so you didn’t have to deal with being rejected.

Considering that the man was consuming your every thought, there was no way that you didn’t like him. In fact, you were beginning to think that you were falling in love with him despite his hatred towards you. And why couldn’t you get the hint? He didn’t like you.

“You have a pretty smile,” you told him before you really thought about what you were saying. And you felt your cheeks heat as you looked down at your hands that were sitting in your lap. You were now embarrassed that you had spoken at all, let alone complimented him.

“I what?” He asked. Boone had heard you just fine, but wanted you to say it again just to make sure that his ears weren’t playing a cruel trick on him.

“I said that you had a pretty smile,” you repeated, your voice louder, more confident, and Boone felt his own cheeks blush at your compliment. “It’s no wonder you don’t do it often because I feel like I would do blind from how bright it is.”

“Jesus, y/n, you’re making me blush,” he replied, his tone nothing but humorous, but he wasn’t joking. His cheeks were warm and he was hoping that you couldn’t see the pink color that was tinting his skin.

“Aww, I really am,” you teased as you reached over and pinched the cheek that was closest to you, causing him to blush even more. He was getting really embarrassed and almost wanted to ask you to stop, but he loved the way your skin felt against his.

You pulled your hand away sooner than he would have liked and silence fell between you again. Good. He was beginning to think that you were getting a little too chummy with him. He didn’t want to be your friend. As much as he convinced himself he wanted to be nothing to you, he had to eventually come to terms with the fact that he wanted to be your boyfriend.

He wanted to be your boyfriend so fucking bad that it hurt. But of course, he had to go and fuck that all up for himself. And you were too nice, still treating him with respect even though it was obvious that he was hurting you. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you. He thought the whole thing would have been easier if you would have just given him the same energy back. Then maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy for him to fall in love with you. With your laugh, with the way that you would always bring everyone coffee you had bought on the way to Tyler’s house where you all usually met before a storm chase.

Because deep down, Boone was his own worst enemy and didn’t think he deserved to be happy. He had convinced himself that he was the reason why he had been cheated on. He hadn’t been there for her, hadn’t been as good in bed as the other guy. But really, Carly was the problem. She was the one who screwed everything up. Had pulled the “it’s not you, it’s me” after Boone had caught her in their shared bed with the guy she had told him not to worry about. Apparently he had every right to worry.

And then there you were, all sweet and perfect, and he was telling himself that he couldn’t have you. That he didn’t deserve you because of a mistake that his ex girlfriend had made. And he’d tell himself that he wasn’t ready, that the wound was still fresh, but the truth was that it had been closed for quite some time, the pain no longer there, the blood all cleaned up. So what was his excuse? He didn’t have one, not really.

The truck rolled to stop at a red light as thunder rumbled in the distance. You rolled down the window and stuck your head out to see the once white clouds were now gray. There was a flash of lightning and you quickly pulled your head back into the truck as you felt a droplet of rain hit your cheek. Then, in the blink of an eye, it began to downpour, the rain pattering against the truck.

Boone pressed on the gas, going a little faster than he probably should have. He’d never admit it, but he hated driving through rain. It was something that scared him as it was always unpredictable and hard to see. Especially now with it coming down in sheets to the point where he couldn’t see at all.

So not only was it complete torture to be in a vehicle alone with you when you looked so,,,perfect, but now he was having trouble doing the thing that was taking his mind off of you. Now he just wanted to get to where Tyler had told him they were meeting just to get away from the torture.

And as if it couldn’t have gotten any worse, the truck stopped again in the middle of the road. Boone was panicking as he turned the key only to hear the engine stutter as he tried over and over.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He then turned to you, hating the look of pity that you were giving him. He didn’t need it since he had been pitying himself for years.

“Maybe we can get someone to give you a jump?”

“Nah, I’ll just get a tow. Needs a new battery anyway,” he replied as he got out of the truck, rounding the front to your side to help you out.

So that’s how you ended up at the motel down the road after watching Boone’s truck roll away attached to the back of a tow truck. And of course, because the universe just loved to laugh at you, the room that you were using for the night only had one bed.

You both stood at the edge, staring down at the mattress, the rain water that had soaked through your clothes surely dripping down onto it. You turned to Boone to see that he was already looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

“Guess one of us will have to take the floor,” he said and you shook your head.

“Don’t be silly,” you replied as you removed your shoes before collapsing onto the bed. “We’ll just share it. And I’ll even put a couple pillows between us if that makes you feel better.”

“Sure,” he replied as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“But can I be honest?” You asked, sitting up, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, suddenly scared to hear what you had to say.

“I don’t want a divider,” you told him as you stood to your feet. “I’m so fucking cold and I just want you to hold me and kiss me I know I look like an idiot for being in love with someone who doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked with a laugh and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Why would I kid about that?”

“I don’t know, I just-you-and-you like me?”

“Yes, I thought it was obvious!”

“Well, obviously not. I mean, I like you too. And I-wow, you like me.” This was the most you had ever heard him speak and you honestly thought it was cute that you got him babbling.

“Will you just shut up and come over here?” You asked and he slowly stepped over to you as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Kiss me,” you commanded and watched his cheeks blush, his eyes widening.

You watched his gaze shift to your lips then back up to your eyes, filled with desire. Boone then wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, slowly inching his mouth towards yours. His lips slotted between yours and you were quick to respond, your movements slow at first, but you were getting eager, hungry, trying to make up for months of want.

His hand moved to cup the back of your head as he tried to keep up with you, not expecting it all to go so quickly. But he wasn’t going to stop you, just letting you take what you wanted as he was pliant underneath your touch.

You pressed one more kiss to his lips before motioning for him to turn around. He was about to argue, but you gave him a pointed look and he just knew not to argue with you.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, holding his hands up and turning around to face the door. You turned your back to him and peeled off your shirt and jeans, tired of the way they were sticking to you.

“Okay, you can turn around,” you told him once you were in only your bra and panties, and as soon as he was facing you, his mouth fell open, not expecting you to be in full-on lingerie.

“Fuck,” he rasped, then quickly cleared his throat. “I mean, you look-fuck.”

“That’s a compliment, I hope,” you replied, batting your eyelashes.

“It is,” he nodded, feeling he needed some water to wet his very dry throat. You had looked even better than he had imagined. So pretty that he couldn’t look away.

“Now it’s your turn,” you replied and his eyes widened. Boone wasn’t insecure about his body in the slightest, but thinking about you being the one to see it did make him a little nervous.

“My turn?” He asked and you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip, making his thoughts even more impure.

“Yeah, I’m undressed so it’s only right for you to be. That is, if you want to. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t want to.” But as soon as the words left your mouth, Boone was taking off his shirt, followed by his jeans so he was just left with his underwear where you could clearly see a boner tenting.

His eyes were dark and you were sure that if you had given him permission, he would have taken you right there. And you would have let him. In fact, you were so close to begging him to, or maybe you would have preferred him to be the one to do the begging.

He looked unsure of what to do, suddenly seeming shy so you knew you needed to help him out. You knew about his reputation so you didn’t know why he was so shy around you. You weren’t that intimidating, were you?

You grabbed hold of his hands and pulled him close, your arms wrapping around his neck while his found your waist. You slowly inched your face towards his before slotting your lips together again, this kiss much more soft and gentle.

And in that moment, Boone decided that he could have kissed you for hours, already addicted to the feeling of your lips against his. The way your lip gloss tasted, that fake cherry flavor that normally tasted medicinal, but there, it tasted heavenly and he couldn’t get enough.

Your hands found their way into his hair and he felt like he was going to cream in his pants just from the small tug you gave it as your tongue flicked into his mouth once again. If he hadn’t been able to literally feel your nails digging into his scalp, he would have convinced himself that he was dreaming.

“This is everything I could have dreamed up,” you murmured against his lips and he couldn’t have agreed more. “But I was wondering if you wanted to take it to the next level.”

You pulled away and Boone just nodded furiously, not being able to hide his excitement.

“Gonna need a yes or no.”

“Yes!” He replied, a little too enthusiastically then cleared his throat. “Yes,” he nodded, his tone much more calm and you just laughed in response. He really was cute and felt honored that he was so excited to sleep with you, because from what you had heard, he had sworn off anything of that sort. You supposed now that you were going to have to make it that much more worthwhile.

“Okay, but I think you’re going to have to beg. I just don’t feel like you want it enough.”

“I can beg,” he nodded furiously. “I’m a good begger.”

“Go on, then.”

“Please, y/n,” he whined. “I mean, look at how much I need you,” he pointed to his rock hard cock then dropped to his knees, his hands still holding onto your hips. He buried his face into your stomach and you decided that he wasn’t lying, he really was a good begger.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I don’t think you want it enough.”

You felt his lips against your stomach and began to laugh as he peppered it with kisses between whispered sweet nothings. God, he was good.

“Please,” he begged, resting his chin on the spot right above your belly button as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. “I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

That line seemed to have done something for you because you were quick to help him to his feet before pushing him down onto the mattress, watching a wide grin spread on his face.

“Boxers off,” you commanded and he was quick to listen, pulling them off as quickly as he could as you pulled a condom from your purse. He put it on while you took off your underwear before climbing on top of him.

“Wow, look at you, honey, you’re already leaking and we haven’t done anything yet,” you teased and watched his cheeks turn red. “All that just from kissing? I must be better than I thought.”

“I-I’m a little out of practice,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting even more warm.

“We don’t have to do this, Boone,” you reached up to twirl some of his hair around your finger and with you sitting on top of him like that, looking like an absolute dream, he could have sworn that he had died and gone to heaven.

“I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I do,” he smiled. “Actually, you’re the only person who I want to do this with. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Well, let me know if I do something you don’t like or just want to stop.” Boone appreciated how accommodating you were about the whole thing, being nothing but gentle with your words. He just wished that other people had reacted the same instead of just laughing in his face.

“I will,” he nodded. “Now please go ahead and do it. I’m dying here.”

You slowly placed yourself onto his cock and took no time to ride him, your hands finding his shoulders as your movements were slow, wanting to be soft and gentle at first to figure out what he liked before you went in the way you wanted to.

But clearly Boone had enjoyed it as his eyes shut tight, multiple moans falling from his lips as you rode him. His hands moved to your hips, digging into the skin as he bucked against you, feeling the need to move with you. And that seemed to work because a moan fell from your own lips and Boone swore that he was going to come just from hearing it.

“More,” he begged. “Faster.” You did as he commanded and moved faster, watching him come undone underneath you as his fingers dug even more into your skin, his hips bucking against yours even harder.

“Are you sure you’re out of practice?” You asked. “Because you’re doing great. I mean, look at you. Already look like you’re going to come, Jesus.”

“I-I think I’m close.”

Your movements got harder and faster and Boone felt an orgasm building already, feeling kind of embarrassed that he hadn’t lasted very long. But the sounds came out before he could stop them, louder than he had ever been and he was wondering why he hadn’t been on the bottom very often.

“That’s it,” you cooed. “Let it out, baby.” You continued to ride him at the same pace, trying to see how many times you could get him to orgasm in one round.

“Got some more in you? We can stop if you want.”

“Don’t. Stop,” he replied in between breaths and that seemed to be enough for you. You picked up your pace, going the fastest and hardest that you could, watching his back arch underneath you as he orgasmed again and again, looking like an absolute mess with the sweat rolling down his body and his hair that looked beyond repair.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “So fucking good.” His hips bucked against yours again and again as you fucked him hard and fast, trying his best to keep up with you.

The answer was four. And each time seemed to be more intense than the last, practical screams escaping his lips and you really hoped the other guests could hear him and know that you had fucked him good. And you had.

And after you had gone all night, you spent the morning in each other’s arms, bare skin to bare skin as you both got the best sleep of your lives, deciding that you were both looking forward to doing that often, deciding that you had to share a bed every night after admitting your feelings to each other. If either of you had anything to say about it, you’d be together forever.

[aristaspark]

How do you think Kenji's process to forgive Brooklynn will go? Because he said: "I'm not fluent in betrayal" and "once you lose my trust, you lose it. Forever"

Ok, I'm going to go off on a little tangent here (as I always do) because your question just made me think back on a moment of clarity I had recently, and it has to do with the reason they had Brooklynn and Kenji break up in the first place. But it'll make sense I swear.

But if I had to summarize my "argument": I think Kenji won't have to "forgive" her because she's not actually betraying him (any of them for that matter) and he knows it. He doesn't see what she's doing as a betrayal.

Now, the long thought process, grab your pop corn.

(Sorry, I had a lot of thoughts and it's a mess but who's surprised?)

You see, I was asking myself, if they're gonna make Kenlynn endgame like I think they are, why have them break up in the first place, taking the risk of making them messy in the process? It didn't make sense to me at first, it was one of the only things I couldn't get behind.

And then the answer, like, revealed itself to me and it was so evident I wondered how I didn't click before 😂

If they wanted to make Kenlynn endgame, breaking them up was the ONLY option they had, the only way they could do it.

Let me elaborate. In an interview Scott Kreamer more or less said that when Chaos Theory was greenlit, one of the first "storyline" they "baked" for the show was Brooklynn's (her faking her death). So they kind of had to articulate all of the other storylines around that.

Which leads me to my point.

Kenji would have NEVER been able to forgive her had she done all this while still being his girlfriend.

That's straight up treason. That's choosing a life of misery over his love. That's not telling your partner who's suffering and grieving you that you're alive. That's choosing your investigation over him when you finally reunite. That's torturing him. That's like EVIL.

But that's not what happened. Because Kenji broke up with her. That changes everything when we think about it, it changes the status quo.

She wasn't hiding the fact that she was alive from her partner, she was hiding it from her ex who was probably better off without her in his life anyway since he broke up with her.

She's no longer choosing a dangerous life of misery over him, because she doesn't even have him.

We have to keep in mind that she has no idea whether Kenji still loves her or not. She most likely thinks he doesn't (he broke up with her and after that she was "dead" for six months).

So she really got to choose between two evils:

Going back to her friends and being forced to deal with everything she didn't want to have to deal with : having to face Darius after everything that happened (confession+abandonning her), having to deal with the consequences of her actions on her relationship with her friends (feeling like she no longer belongs in the group), but above all having to deal with the fact that she'll be alone for the first time in six years (having no idea what her and Kenji have anymore). Idk, I'd be Brooklynn I wouldn't want to come back either.

Or, continuing her mission. Sure, it's lonely and dangerous. Sure, it'll hurt her friends. Sure, it'll make her miserable, but so does the other option. Choosing to pursue Soyona makes the most sense for her. She sacrificed too much to stop midway (her arm, her relationship(s), her place in the world (she literaly faked her death). If she stops before it's over it would all have been for nothing. And sure, she'll be miserable, but at least it gives her the opportunity to do good (getting rid of the threat on her life and on her friends' lives, saving innocent dinos).

So now, what about Kenji in all that? As you said, he made a point of saying he doesn't forgive easily.

But the thing is, I'm not even sure Kenji has to "forgive" her.

He broke up with her and after that they never spoke again because she died, their relationship remained "unresolved".

She's not "abandoning him" by doing all this because he was the one who abandoned her first (don't get me wrong, he had every right to break up, but it was still extremely violent and painful for Brooklynn).

I think there's so many layers to their relationship, but the fact is that they're the ones who have suffered the most out of all the camp fam.

And Kenji's aware of that (at least he will be when he'll know everything that happened to her). There's a scene which already kind of hints at this, where we can see Kenji been hit with the realization/fact that she must have suffered more than he could ever comprehend, empathizing with her.

I saw some people putting Kenji in the same bag as Ben and Soyona when it comes to them noticing Brooklynn's arm, but as I touched on in the "analysis" I did of that particular scene, the scene with Kenji is very different from the other two. Kenji does not look at her arm because he can't help looking at it. He's consciously looking at it and wants her to be aware that he's looking at it, he's asking a thousands questions with his eyes alone. It's a look of sadness, of compassion, of hurt. He's hurting for her.

He doesn't get mad at her for her "betrayal", never confronts her, never makes it about him, because it's not. Although he doesn't know why she's doing what she's doing, he knows that she suffered at least as much as he did simply by looking at her arm.

I think that Kenji will try to understand her, not to forgive her, because as I said it's not a betrayal. His reaction to her leaving doesn't look like the reaction of someone who feels "betrayed" and who's rightfully mad at the person. It looks like the reaction of someone who's hurt, sad, heart-broken, regretful, lost, but never mad.

I don't think Kenji sees any of what she's doing as a betrayal because she's not actually doing anything to him. HE was the one who removed himself from Brooklynn's "considerations". This isn't another instance of her neglecting their relationship (or him) anymore because with where things had been left off, as far as she knew, they didn't have any kind of relationship anymore. Not a romantic one, not friendship, nothing, just a big question mark. Kenji most likely still loves her and regretted breaking up with her, but she's not aware of any of that, only Kenji is. To her, it's too late, a lost cause.

So, she's not doing anything to Kenji. It was the case when they were a couple (when she neglected him), because when you're in a relationship you sorta become one with the other person and your every action impacts them, so you must take that into consideration everytime you do something. But as I said, Kenji took himself out of the equation.

She's not doing anything to Kenji, if anything she's doing everything to herself.

I think a lot of people who see Brooklynn as *almost* irredeemable also underestimate everything that happened to her and the role other characters also played in her "demise". Kenji broke up with her, Darius abandonned her. They also hurt her.

She's the one who caused the chain of tragic events that happened to her by giving in to her obsession with her investigation, sure, but that does not mean that she was prepared for any of what happened to her.

My argumentation is a little all over the place sorry 😂.

But, yeah, my main take away from this is that Brooklynn's not betraying any of them. She's following her own path, one they don't understand or agree with, sure, but she doesn't owe them anything. She's her own person, living her life the way she wants to live it, making her own choices. The only one she would have "betrayed" is Kenji, but as I said, that was when they were in a relationship. I think he might get mad at her for having kept so many secrets, but he will eventually forgive her if she's willing to change, if she owns up to her faults (and I feel like after everything she went through she will be willing to). After all, although he said he never "forgives", he forgave Darius.

Congrats if you made it to the end and if you somehow managed to understand 😂

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 20

You thought it would be just another dinner with Santiago, but it doesn't end like you expected it to.

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Hurtful words are thrown around. Themes of abandonment. Swearing. Mentions of unsupportive family members. I actually proofread this! But there’s probably still mistakes that I missed 😂. Word count: 3,304 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 19 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 21

It was supposed to be a usual dinner with Santiago.

But you knew something was off the moment he opened the door to his apartment, inviting you in. He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He wasn’t talking much, and when he did respond to you, you were met with one-word answers, or just a grunt. You tried not to let it get to you, but you felt like you were imposing on his time, despite the fact that he had asked you to dinner.

It was weird. But he had been acting weird for weeks. Maybe it was because you were so close to giving birth. You only had two weeks left, after all, your lives were about to change forever. He even said so himself, he wasn’t ever expecting to have a family of his own. He was happy to just be by himself, so…maybe he was just nervous. There was no need to worry about it, he’d been there the whole time for you.

But it was obvious something was bothering him (and not just tonight, it had been going on for a while), and he felt like he couldn’t tell you, which hurt. You thought you were closer than that. You were supposed to trust each other with anything, since you’re going to be co-parenting. You didn’t want your kids to think that their mom and dad couldn’t talk to each other.

There was no avoiding it, you were going to ask him what was wrong. Tonight.

You make general small talk, which is weird for the two of you. You follow him into his kitchen where he offers you a water (he’s ran out of Diet Coke), and he turns his back to you to the sauce bubbling on the stove. You quietly sip at your drink as you watch him stir. Even now, as he’s just making food, he’s tense; his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched, and he’s holding that spoon just a bit too tightly.

“Santi, is everything okay?” you ask him, already knowing that it wasn’t.

He winces at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were there. He still doesn’t look at you as he answers, “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Fine.

There’s that word again. Every time you ask him if something is going on, it’s always ‘fine’.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think it is, Santi. You’ve been weird for weeks, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he says, finally looking at you with an uneasy look on his face.

“There is, Santi. Come on, you can tell me. We’ve talked about communication – “

“Did it ever occur to you that I might not want you to know?”

Yikes, that stung. You blink at him a little, taken aback. “I-I mean, sure, but I just want you to know that you can be open with me and talk to me.”

He studies you for a moment before he shakes his head. “I can’t talk to you about this.”

He turns back to the sauce.

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t the right time.”

You frown at him and place your glass on the counter. You fold your arms as you watch him for a few moments. The silence in the kitchen weighs heavy before you break it with, “Okay.”

You don’t accept his answer, not one bit.

After a few more awkward minutes, the pasta is ready, and Santi is preparing a plate for you. He asks you shortly if you want cheese, or if you want another drink, and you shake your head at him before following him to his dining table. You sit opposite him, eating slowly as you keep glancing at him.

He’s asking you one-word questions on the food, not meeting your eyes when he does. It makes your heart sink. The last time he acted like this was when he thought you wanted to date and he was holding you back, back when you went shopping for baby clothes together and ran into Craig.

Surely now he still doesn’t think he was holding you back. But then why would he be arguing with his friends over something like that? Why would they even care about it? Unless Santi had told them something, or they have been pressuring him in some way. Why else would he engage in such heated discussions if there wasn't some underlying concern or conflict? The questions swirl in your mind, leaving you to ponder if they are somehow connected to your relationship with Santi, and its impact on yours and your babies’ life.

After a few more moments contemplating, you place your fork down before clearing your throat. “Santi, I only want to know what’s bothering you.”

“Por el amor de Dios,” Santi mutters, rolling his eyes as he slams the fork down on the table. He gives you a hard stare. “Just drop it, okay?”

“I don’t want to drop it,” you say, giving him a concerned look and you lean towards him slightly. “I’m worried about you! You’ve been arguing with Frankie and Will, that’s not like you – “

“How would you know, you’ve only known me eight months,” he snaps at you.

You balk at his reaction, leaning back from him. “That’s a long time, Santi, I like to think I know you pretty well.”

“No, eight months is in fact not a long time,” he snapped at you. There are a few moments of silence as you stare at one another, before Santi closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat. He buried his head in his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.

You stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. You bite your lip and look down at your plate, all of a sudden not even remotely hungry. You look back up at him before going to stand. “I’ll get going, we can catch up again another time, when you’re feeling better.”

He doesn’t say anything to stop you as you gather your things, before you spot something at the end of the corridor. The nursery door, Santi’s old spare room, was slightly open, and you could just see a pile of unopened boxes. Your brow furrows before you glance at Santiago, and suddenly make your way down the hallway.

The calls of your name go ignored as you push open the nursery door, only to find that…it wasn’t ready. Sure, it had been painted like Santiago said it had been, and there was a feature wall of some jungle themed wallpaper, but…that was it. The room was bare. The furniture you had shopped for together was still in the boxes, collecting dust. You looked around the room, sudden tears in your eyes as you take in the fact that the room felt cold, and nowhere near as if a new family would be using it.

You turn quickly to look at Santiago, who had followed you down the hall. He had an exhausted look on his face as he awkwardly tucked his hands into his jean's pockets.

You take in a shaky breath from the tears and look back at the room. “It’s not done.” You look at him, worry sitting densely in your stomach. “It’s not done, Santi. They’re going to be here in two weeks, and you haven’t fixed up their room. Why isn’t it done?”

Santiago doesn’t answer for a moment before he sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

Your heart sinks. You try to regulate your breathing as you turn back and ask him, “Tell me what?”

He sighs before running a hand through his hair, looking at anything but you. He can’t seem to stop fidgeting. “I can’t do this.”

Oh…no.

He can’t mean what you thought, right? He just meant dinner tonight, he couldn’t do dinner. Maybe he wasn’t well and felt bad about cancelling. Yeah, that’s what he meant. It has to be.

But you know, deep down, you were wrong.

You try and play dumb. To give him the chance to take it back, to rethink what he just said, because really, he can’t be saying this to you right now. Not now. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t…do that,” he said, looking back at you with a stern look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “Don’t be an idiot, you know what I mean.”

He’s never been so harsh with you before. You give one final look around the room before squaring your shoulders and turning back to him. “So, what, you…you don’t want to be involved anymore? Is that what you’re saying?”

He hesitates for a moment before giving a single nod.

You can feel the slow anger building in your chest, your skin practically prickling with tension. How could he do this to you, now? The air becomes thick with unspoken words, each heartbeat within you resonates with the weight of the betrayal that has unfolded before you.

As Santiago’s gaze falters and you both just stare at each other with nothing to say, you find yourself grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you. The trust you once held for him now hangs precariously in the balance, and the echoes of disbelief reverberate through the room.

You had never imagined that this moment would arrive, not now, not at a time when trust and loyalty were vital. You look back on the last few months, trying to see where it had all gone wrong. Was it back when you discussed your dating life? From what you knew, he hadn’t been seeing anyone, seriously or otherwise. Did he feel trapped? Was it the almost kiss on Halloween? No, he started acting weird after Thanksgiving. So what brought him to this conclusion, that he didn’t want to be a father anymore, that you had spent all this time together planning, and working on yourselves and together to become parents? Was it the scare that you’d had?

You loved this man. Loved him. Oh, God, you can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

“This just…came at an inconvenient time – “ he starts again, the prolonged silence evidently becoming too much.

Your jaw sets and you glare at him, the bubbling in your chest erupting. “Oh, I'm so sorry, when would this,” you gesture to your bump. “Have been more convenient for you?”

He closes his eyes for a moment in exasperation. “Don’t be like that – “

“Be like what?” you ask, your gaze still hard on him. “Don’t be upset? Don’t be angry? You’ve just told me you don’t want to be a father to our kids anymore! How am I not supposed to be upset?”

“I know it…it’s bad, honey, I know – “

“Don’t ‘honey’ me, you…you…” you gasp as you realise you’re crying. You reach up and touch your cheek, almost as if you’re shocked that you’re crying.

You’d never truly cried over a man before.

But it wasn’t just a man. It was your kids. Your babies, who would be here in two weeks, ones who you had planned a whole life for; to raise them in households full of love and warmth, where you thought their father would be a part of their lives. Where they would have three amazing uncles, who had welcomed you with open arms, who had helped you with your house.

Your heart stutters as you realise; they must have known. They must have known how Santiago was feeling when they organised your baby shower, when they were actually at your baby shower, when you were at Santiago’s place for Christmas…God, you bet they had a good laugh, knowing that you were being strung along. They knew he was planning on leaving you.

“When did…when did you plan to do this? When did you plan to leave me?” you ask him, wiping at your eyes harshly.

He swallows thickly before shaking his head. “I didn’t plan anything. It…look, it’s not important - “

“Yes, it is, Santiago,” you snap, pointing to your chest. “It’s important to me, to my kids!”

He watches you again, and you grit your teeth, trying not to look away from him. He looks you up and down before he matches your heated and tense energy, his arms crossing over his chest.

You scoff at him. “Really? You’re choosing to be quiet now?”

“I’m not cut out for this,” he says. “I’m not used to staying in one place for so long, and you’re a good ten years younger than me, you should be with someone your own age. This just wasn’t how I planned my life going, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you think I planned my life to go this way?” you ask him, starting to pace the small width of the hallway. “To get pregnant from a stranger after a one-night stand? I gave you every opportunity to leave when we found out about this – “

“Yeah, well, I should have left when you told me I could.”

You stop your pacing to look at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“You – and them – would be better off without me.”

“Oh don’t you spout that martyr bullshit on me,” you snap, finally stopping your pacing. You know you sound like a petulant teenager. But you’re angry. You’re fuming. “Is this because of Halloween? When we almost kissed?”

You see how he tenses. Neither of you had mentioned that night since it happened, having silently decided that it was the alcohol, that it wasn’t anything more to it than that.

He shakes his head. “It has nothing to do with Halloween.”

“Then it was Thanksgiving,” you say. “I took you away from your family, who you hadn’t seen in a while – “

“It has…” he starts, but he stops himself, running his hands down his face in frustration. “There is nothing specific that has happened, I’ve just had more time to think about it. And I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a dad.”

You’re crying again. “So all these months were just a lie? You were leading me on?”

“That is not what I was doing!” Santiago says defensively. “Don’t twist my words around!”

“I am two weeks away from having a C-section,” you cry. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!”

“I – “

“I should have fucking listened to you on our date. I should have seen this coming, really,” you say, giving a small, humourless laugh as you shake your head at yourself. “That you weren’t looking for anything serious, and there’s nothing more serious than two kids! And how you wouldn’t get rid of the truck – “

Santiago gives a loud, annoyed groan. “Again with the truck. Why does it always come back to the fucking truck? You’ve upturned my life enough, can I not keep something for myself?”

Something seems to snap in him then.

“You throw this huge bombshell on me, that not only are you pregnant, but it’s twins,” he says. “I had just come back to Florida after the worst year of my life, ready to have some normalcy, and I’m suddenly going to be a dad, with a woman who I barely know! And everyone seems to think I should be okay with it, to accept that this is my life now! And now my spare room is full of baby shit, my friends won’t stop talking about how much my life is going to change, and everyone keeps bombarding me about my truck. It’s my fucking truck, and it’s the only thing that I own that doesn’t even remotely have anything to do with a fucking baby!”

He stops, a little breathless. You stay silent after his outburst, and you look at each other silently before you both physically deflate. This is it. It’s over.

“So what?” you ask him. “It’s too much responsibility for you, and you’re starting to feel trapped? You don’t have your life anymore?”

He hesitates before nodding. “Yeah.”

You wipe at your eyes furiously. Jesus, why can’t you stop crying? This is embarrassing enough.

You nod at him with finality. “Okay then. Fine. I’ll just go.”

You wipe your eyes once again before walking past him, giving him a wide berth, because if you even so much as brush against him, to feel his touch, you’re going to break all over again. You make it to the front door before pausing. Is this really how this ends? With bitter words and your heart broken? You can’t believe this man, who you adored, loved with all your being, was doing this to you.

Your parents and sisters were right. He did decide to leave once he realised he didn’t want them. And you didn’t want them to be right, you wanted to be able to prove your family wrong, just like you had proved everyone else wrong whenever they made a judgement about you. How stupid and naïve you were.

No, you’re not stupid. Or naïve. You’re hopeful, and you had a great support system without Santiago, or your family.

Fuck your family and fuck him.

“You know what?” you ask, suddenly spinning around to look at Santiago. He looks at you, the exhausted look back on his face. “I don’t need you. They don’t need you. They don’t need to know that their dad didn’t want them. Do you know why? Because they have me. They will never know the feeling of being unwanted or abandoned. I will shower them with the love they deserve, and they will be surrounded by happiness.”

You didn’t stick around long enough for him to give a response. You slammed the door loudly on your way out, suddenly glad that you had driven here (although he hadn’t offered you a ride, which he usually did, but now you realise why he didn’t). All the things from the past few months were suddenly falling into place; he hadn’t called you corazón in forever, evidently realising the nickname didn’t have as much as a meaning to it as he thought. He hadn’t even taken much part in the baby shower your friends had thrown together for you. And of course, the stupid truck; you should have seen the signs long ago.

You reach your car and climb in. Taking a moment to yourself, the confined space offering a temporary sanctuary from the outside world, you finally let the fresh wave of tears stream down your face, leaving salty trails on your cheeks. Your shoulders heave with each ragged breath as you don’t bother holding back the sobs that had been pushing to escape.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly. The air inside the car feels heavy, saturated with the weight of your emotions. The warmth of the seat contrasts sharply with the chill that has settled in your chest. Time seems to lose its meaning as you sit there, caught in the grip of your emotions.

In this cocoon of seclusion, you fight with the complex feelings of a mix of sorrow and frustration, and you mourn the end of your relationship with Santiago.

After a few moments, you give one final sob, before taking yet another shaky deep breath. You wipe at your eyes again ferociously, before giving yourself a look in your mirror. You’re a mess. You don’t even recognise yourself in the mirror.

You flinch as a neighbour comes out one of the neighbouring apartments, a reminder of a world that continues to move forward while you're stuck in this bubble of despair. They don’t seem to notice you having a complete meltdown in your car. You best get going, you’ll look like a mad woman…and Santiago might be watching.

You start your car, and with one final look at Santiago’s apartment, you leave. For good.

• Por el amor de Dios - For the love of God

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: The fact that the idea for this part was already causing me such INTENSE brainrot way before I even finished writing Part 2 (which is pretty funny cuz I actually had a TOTALLY different idea compared to how this part is now, but hey my stoopid brain does what it does) 👁👄👁 Anyhoe, I am SO stoked for this (it also turned out quite long)!! It's finally got ✨️smut✨️ which I know my fellow sluts have been waiting for, BUT it's not the actual sexy sex yet cuz I'm saving that for the last part. Don't worry, it'll definitely be worth it~ ;)

BTW there's a part in this where Steven recites French poetry by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore and I used Google Translate for the English, so if the translation is off then I'm very sorry!

And I just wanna thank y'all sooo much again from the bottom of mah lil black heart, like SERIOUSLY! You lovelies are truly spoiling me with all your sweet comments, likes, and reblogs 😭❤️❤️❤️ And I swear that after the unexpectedly huge success of this fic, it made me fall RIDICULOUSLY HARDER for Oscar ISNACC and I have y'all to blame for dragging me even deeper into DILF Hell Heaven. Like, it's actually a problem when I suddenly feel like giggling and kicking my feet while I'm suffering at work just at the thought of him 😂

I also haven't been this confident and motivated in a while, and this is one of the VERY rare times I'm actually updating pretty quickly without the temptation of slacking off and abandoning it. I love writing and this fic is my baby, and it's just so fucking incredible that you guys are loving what I'm putting out, too, so once more: THANK YOU 🥰

Who knows, maaaybe more Moon Knight fics will come out in the future from me and fingers crossed that Moon Knight Season 2 will be confirmed 🤭

And the tag list has been updated! I also included some readers who I thought wanted to follow this whole series, so if you find yourself tagged despite not asking to be then that's why LMAO xD As always, the tag list is open so don't be shy to ask if you'd like to be added on it! ^_^

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp

Part 3: Like a virgin, touched for the very first time

After the flurry of honesty and an insane whirlwind of emotions, you and Steven finally winded down. It was a bit awkward following that, but he asked (well, sputtered) if you'd like to stay. He immediately apologized, knowing that he was overstepping boundaries and he completely understands if you rejected such a mental idea.

But it was late, and there was absolutely no way he was going to let you go home alone especially with the state you're in. And also...

Well, call him a selfish knob, but he just wanted--needed--to be with you.

But you agreed to stay--enthusiastically so. You both were flustered, though sharing a laugh together had all the tension fade away.

Because, truly, you were right where you were supposed to be.

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven prepared dinner for the two of you, consisting of five-minute vegan mac and cheese courtesy of his microwave then indulging yourselves with the box of chocolates he brought at the failed date for dessert. It wasn't "grand" by any means, but it was the best you ate in a long time.

All thanks to the cute host... Actually, your gorgeous boyfriend.

Just the thought had you grinning like a doofus, the butterflies in your belly now transforming into fucking birds.

Did that make sense? Hell no, but being with Steven absolutely did.

"Love..." Steven's strong arms encircled around your waist from behind, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Make yourself comfortable, yeah? Don't worry, I'll sleep on the couch."

You gasped, affronted, quickly whipping around to face him. "Excuse you, sir, but I have every reason to be worried!" You huffed dramatically. "You are definitely not sleeping on the couch, Steven. And if you still insist that you are, then I'll just join you!"

Steven chuckled, his cheeks glowing pink. He rested his chin atop your head, pulling you closer to him. "The couch is too small for the two of us... So for a good night's sleep, I suppose I have no choice but to share the bed with you, yeah?"

"You say that as if you'd rather not." You pouted playfully, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head against his chest. You can faintly hear the erratic thrum of his heartbeat, matching your own.

"I'm just pulling your leg, sweetheart." He teased, kissing your head.

How the fuck did he ever get so lucky? He thought he was going crazy, that this was all just a dream--but it wasn't. Dreams were never this good. You were right here, right now, in his arms. Wholly accepting him for who he is. Loving him.

And he fucking loved you, too.

"Where's the bathroom, baby?"

Baby. The name made his heart stop for a full second. Heat once again crept up to his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears, his voice not coming out as all he could do was just point towards the bathroom as he stared down at you in a completely lovestruck sort of wonder.

You giggled, blushing as well before leaning up on your tiptoes and pecking his nose. "You go relax, Steven. I'll join you soon."

He watched you saunter off, still glued in place and a hand atop his frenzied heart.

He had no idea how in the world he was supposed to relax, especially now that the situation fully hit him like a freight train. But thankfully, he found his legs moving for him and his body taking the liberty of changing into his cozy pyjamas before climbing onto bed.

He put on his ankle restraint and settled down, covering the blanket over him like some posh Victorian duchess as he laid completely stiff. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, lifting his head and squinting every so often at the closed bathroom and your obscure shadow dancing amidst the light peeking through the tiny crack of the door underneath.

And it was so...quiet. Neither Marc nor Jake has uttered a single peep, which was highly unusual. Either one or both of them always had something to say, regardless of whatever Steven was doing and he was the same whenever they were fronting.

But as of the moment, he couldn't even handle speaking with Marc. Not after what he did. Marc and Jake were his family and there was no doubt that he and Marc will eventually make up, but no one was ever allowed to hurt you--especially now that you two were officially together.

Jake, on the other hand... Well, he was known to butt into Steven's business. But Jake always gave him a good push, and he would never actually force Steven to do something if Jake didn't believe he could do it. Truly, Steven owed Jake for technically setting you and him up.

But besides Marc, Steven was more surprised that Jake wasn't yapping away especially when you were involved. It didn't go unnoticed for Steven the way Jake has...changed. Only when you were around, at least. And despite Jake being the stealthiest of them all, Steven could always feel him silently observing you at work deep within the recesses of his mind.

But Steven never said anything. He just understood--accepted--Jake, and he was sure that Jake knew. But Steven didn't mind it; in fact, it made him feel less alone.

After all, how could anyone ever resist you?

He then sighed deeply, shaking his head. Clearly it was no use just laying in his bed like a corpse, so he sat up and threw the blanket off before grabbing a random book from his bedside table and donned his glasses. But his brain was too muddled, heart still not ceasing its turbulent thump as he couldn't even register the words popping out of the worn pages he has read a thousand times.

"So you wear glasses, too, huh?"

He flinched slightly at your voice, seeing you standing at the foot of his bed. You chuckled softly before your eyes landed on his ankle restraint, raising a brow.

"S-Sorry, it's..." He scrambled for something--anything. "I...I know it's a huge red flag, but I have a...sleeping disorder. I promise it ain't for something, um...sexual."

"No need to make excuses, Steven. I don't think it's a red flag."

'And I wouldn't mind if you used it on ME.' You bit back the risqué words that nearly tumbled out your foolish, needy mouth.

Steven only smiled shyly, putting the book away before he gasped when he suddenly felt something plop down on his lap.

Something soft, warm, and lovely.

"Is...is this okay..?" Now it was your turn to be shy, meeting his gaze tentatively.

"More than okay." He breathed, staring up at you with an awed grin. "Gods, Y/N, you're beautiful."

"Thanks, this is my 'I wonder how I didn't pass out from running the most I never thought I could' look." You laughed. But Steven didn't, guilt clouding his features.

He placed his hands on your hips, brows knitting together and jaw squaring. "I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn't have to do that, didn't have to meet me. I would've hated it, but I would've totally understood if you never wanted to see me again. And yet...I was happy when you did come."

"I'm happy, too, Steven." You assured him, one hand on his shoulder while the other combed through his fluffy curls. "And honestly, I would do it again. If you were in, hell, Egypt--I'd still find a way to you, no matter what."

His expression softened, a smile replacing his frown as he leaned forward and laid his head on your chest. "Please do one favour for me, though?" You kept quiet, patiently awaiting his words. "If you ever meet Marc, punch the prick."

"Baby, I can only slap him! No way I'd ever damage your godsent face." You laughed again, little snorts wracking your body that Steven found so damn endearing. Then he looked up, his chin resting in between the pillowy softness of your breasts.

"Love... Call me that again."

"Baby." You obeyed with zero hesitation, and Steven groaned. A deep, rumbly sound that sent tingles all throughout your body. You lightly tugged on his hair, making his head tip back and gaze locking with his pretty brown eyes that have gotten darker, pupils dilated.

"Baby..." Your voice came out as a pathetic whine, your hand on his shoulder holding on for dear life. "Wanna kiss you."

Like a predator pouncing on its prey, Steven swooped up to catch your lips--only for the both of your glasses to bump into each other.

An awkward beat passed between the two of you before you both exploded into riotous laughter. The two of you fell side by side on the bed, giggling so much that tears sprang to your eyes and your stomachs hurt.

Once you two finally calmed down, you exchanged bright smiles and Steven rolled on top of you. His elbows dug into the bed on either side of you, making sure not to bear down his weight on you. He then took off both of your glasses, setting them aside on the bedside table.

"Shall we try again, love?" But Steven didn't wait for your response, crashing his lips with yours.

It was chaste. Feather light. So much better than what you ever imagined it to be like. Steven's lips were unexpectedly soft, but there was a certain firmness in the way he kissed you. Your eyes fluttered shut, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss.

Steven cradled the side of your face gently, lovingly, as if he was handling glass. Then, experimentally, you nipped on his bottom lip. He gasped sharply, and you slid your tongue inside his mouth.

It was obvious how inexperienced you were, but Steven certainly didn't mind. In fact, it only turned him on even more that you wanted to spend your precious first time with him.

And he was definitely never letting you go.

You moved your tongue uncertainly, small panic brewing inside of you if you were doing it right. All those shows and movies made kissing look so easy; but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts as Steven's tongue tangled with yours, taking the lead as he coaxed you into a lazy, sensual dance.

And that drew a long, beautiful moan out of you. Steven craved more, more, more--wanting to push you to the very limit, a lustful, greedy beast suddenly possessing his body.

But oh, he knew, deep down, that beast has always been there; waiting for the right moment to be released.

Waiting for you.

He then slowly pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. Your entire body was flushed, lips puffy and eyes hazy with anguished yearning as you stared up at him. Your hands reached out, clinging on tightly to his black sweatshirt. Despite being on the bed, you felt as if you were free falling into a bottomless pit.

And you wanted to fall--with Steven.

"Steven..." You murmured, one leg wrapping around his waist. "Are you gonna make love to me?"

"No." His reply was instant, levelling his gaze with yours. "I will, but not tonight, darling. I don't have any condoms."

"I...I don't mind..."

A low purr reverberated from his throat. Fuck, were you even aware of what you were saying? Of the sweet, tempting danger it entailed?

He might as well just tie you up, keep you in his apartment forever. With him. ONLY him.

He shook his head, quickly stamping down such dark, possessive thoughts.

"Love." He emphasized through clenched teeth, and you saw the way his inner conflict flickered in his eyes. "Not tonight, Y/N. But that doesn't mean I can't still please you, yeah?"

He pulled your leg off of his waist then pressed his lips to your ankle, electricity coursing directly to where you desired it most.

He never broke eye contact, his lips slowly trailing down the smooth expanse of your leg before pausing at your crotch. He chuckled deeply, ignoring it as he moved to your stomach.

You mewled desperately, wiggling slightly. "Baby." You pleaded, nearly breathless. "Please... Don't fuckin' tease me."

"M'sorry, pretty girl. Just let me worship you, yeah? You deserve it." He hummed, completely unbothered. "I deserve it."

He pushed up your tank top, your breasts spilling erotically and...fuck, was that a belly button piercing?

"First year of college. It was a completely lucid decision." You giggled at his stunned expression. "Hurt like a bitch, but I've always wanted one."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets, then." He chuckled, kissing your belly with utmost tenderness and your breath getting caught in your throat. His lips languidly traced upwards, reaching your breasts and burying his face in between them and inhaling deeply.

Now he understood why Jake wouldn't shut the hell up about the way you smelled after asking you out.

His left hand groped one of your breasts, breath stuttering at the wonderful plushness. Then he raised his head, eyes locking intently with yours once more as his tongue flicked your pert nipple. You whimpered for more, more, more--back arching as you eagerly offered yourself to him.

And he just as eagerly accepted your gracious offer, mouth latching on to your nipple. You moaned as he sucked and squeezed, his teeth grazing slightly against the sensitive bud, only magnifying the maddening sensations you had no control over yet had the privilege to be a willing victim to.

He pulled away with a resounding 'pop' before giving your other breast equal devoted attention, his right hand making its descent lower, lower, lower--slipping inside your shorts and his chest blazing at the dampness that greeted him.

"Bloody hell..." He grunted, erection straining painfully against his pyjama pants. He glanced down, his much larger hand cupping your entire pussy. "Wanna fucking taste you, angel. Can I? Please, love, I wanna taste your pretty pussy."

"Y-You don't even have to ask..." You squeaked, completely scarlet from head to toe. "Just take me, baby."

Steven grinned wolfishly, a gleam in his eyes that you've never seen before making your heart skip a beat. Without wasting another moment, he practically ripped your shorts off. He groaned as he saw the wet splotch in the middle of your panties, yanking them down your legs before bringing it up to his nose as a shiver ran down his spine at your intoxicating scent.

Your arousal was flowing down to your thighs, eyes glazed over as if in a trance as you watched Steven sniff your panties like a beast in heat. Then he shimmied out of his pants, your eyes widening as his cock stood proudly; thick and veiny, the tip an angry red and leaking with pre-cum. His fist, still clutching on to your panties, wrapped around his cock as he leaned down to meet your pussy.

Instinctively, you snapped your legs shut, hands flying to your face.

"I-I'm sorry!" You sobbed, briskly shaking your head. "I'm sorry, so sorry! I...I can't, Steven..."

You expected him to be furious, and honestly you'd understand if he was. What you didn't expect, however, was him gently removing your hands and tenderly kissing away your tears.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, love." He assured, his hands massaging soothing circles on yours. "What's the matter? You don't want to continue?"

"I-I do, it's just..." You sniffled, blinking away tears and meeting his concerned gaze. "I'm...I'm embarrassed, Steven. It's just... Y-You know it's my first time, and you're doing amazing, it's just...I'm scared I'm not. I...have no idea what the fuck to do, and I'm not even pretty."

"That's not true." His voice was firm, jaw ticking resolutely. His brows furrowed, expression the most serious you've ever seen it. "You're bloody gorgeous, Y/N. I'm the git who doesn't know what the hell you see in me. And don't fret about being inexperienced, love. I'm so happy that you wanna be with me, and if you'd allow me, I wanna spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You stayed silent, then your lips curved up into a dazzling smile that had Steven utterly weak in the knees. What the hell were you so anxious about, anyway? This was Steven Grant, the man of your wildest dreams. The man you loved.

"I love you, Steven."

Steven froze, tears prickling his eyes. Something between a sob and a chuckle escaped him, positively beaming down at you.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

He then parted your legs, hands quivering slightly. "I love you..." He crouched down, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. "...so fucking much." His tongue darted out, licking the beautiful stretch marks that lined the supple skin of your thighs.

His tongue slowly wandered up, up, up, and you were scarcely breathing once his face was in front of your cunt. His hot breath fanned against your clit; dark, nearly black eyes fixed on yours.

"Quand je vivais tendre et craintive amante..." He recited in French, smiling up at you. "...avec ses feux je peignais ses douleurs."

When I was a tender and fearful lover, with her fires I painted her pains.

You had noticed earlier the French poetry books stacked on Steven's desk, but goddammit you didn't expect he would quote one while he was right in front of your pussy.

You were sure this absolutely sexy menace of a man was trying to murder you.

His thumb then brushed against your clit, making you gasp. He grinned widely, pushing down on your nub as you whimpered and squirmed helplessly.

"Baby..." You begged, tears pouring down your pretty pink cheeks, and there must be something severely wrong with Steven to find it so enticing. "Pretty please... Fuck me with your mouth."

And how could he ever say no to that? He was merely a loyal, desperate slave for his goddess' wishes. For her love.

And so, like a parched man in the desert, he buried his face in your sopping pussy. You yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sudden--but very much not unwelcomed--intrusion into your deepest, most intimate part.

Steven's groan of appreciation vibrated within your gummy walls, inching ever so deeper, feeling his nose hit a bundle of nerves. Then his tongue licked a long, slow stripe along your mound and up to your clit. You cried out, a broken, pornographic song that echoed throughout Steven's entire flat.

"Gods..." His voice was low, trembling; one hand yet again wrapping around his aching cock, the flimsy fabric of your panties hugging the tip. "You've no idea how much I dreamt of this, Y/N. Waited for this." His other hand settled on your pussy, deft fingers running along your drenched folds. "Such a good girl, tastes so fucking good."

He puckered his lips, kissing your pussy. And the sounds that accompanied were downright filthy, Steven moaning shamelessly, loud squelches and the heady smell of your sex filling the air.

Slowly, carefully, he thrusted a finger inside of you. You keened, your thighs squishing Steven's head and your hands gripping onto his hair. He then added another finger, scissoring his digits and you knew right then and there that you were losing what's barely left of your fucking mind.

You grinded against him, and he bobbed his head zealously in perfect tandem with you. His tongue lapped up and down, up and down, before suddenly driving it inside your hole.

He was rubbing his cock vigorously, watching you, burning this marvelous moment for all eternity into his memories. And as soon as a third finger slipped in, you were fucking gone.

You screamed, finally reaching that peak and falling over it, seeing stars. You gushed around his mouth, and Steven noisily slurped it all up, not daring to leave behind a single drop.

He soon followed, grunting animalistically as his cum sprayed all over your panties. He collapsed against your pussy, in between the heavenly plushness of your thighs, panting raggedly.

Neither of you knew how long you both stayed like that, coming down from your high, until you sliced through the serene silence.

"Wow... Just...wow."

Steven chuckled breathlessly, looking up at you with your wetness glistening on his lips and chin. "Wow, indeed." He then leaned forward, and you gasped as his lips suckled on the skin right next to your clit, claiming you with a dark purple mark.

"You'll be the fucking death of me, Steven Grant." You groaned playfully, pulling on his hair.

He grinned, crawling over your body before moulding your lips together in a passionate liplock. His tongue entwined with yours and you could taste yourself, your brain short circuiting.

He slowly drew away, gently knocking his forehead against yours as his grin grew impossibly bigger.

"I'll make love to you at the Field of Reeds, then."

[imeanwhynotbruv]

I love your mowglie!Spider au!!!!! Considering the scenario that Spider does get captured, and for some reason, cannot be rescued, how do you think Quaritch would react because his kid doesn’t speak any english and is just so…feral?

I feel like he’d be pretty strict into pushing Spider into the “right lifestyle” like similar in Caught by naavispider

I think the RDA would experiment on him and find another way to put a tracker on him as well.

Unrelated, but does Spider have his own Ikran?

Quaritch meets feral Spider

Omg I love this! if it did happen I think it would go something like this.

Quaritch wouldn’t realise anything was wrong with Spider other than the fact he could breathe he air at first, and for the sake of things let’s say they still lock him in that room until he wakes up.

The first thing Spider would notice is the lack of Eywa around him, but it was so much worse than any of the times where he was in the lab with the Sullys.

So Spider starts to panic and lash out but with way more force, I’m talking screaming, growling, swearing in broken Na’vi and bashing his hands against everything until they start bleeding.

Quaritch finally enters the room, for fear that Spider will seriously hurt himself. When the door opens Spider gets low to the ground and starts growling, the same way a Thanator would before it’s attack.

Quaritch starts trying to speak to Spider to calm him down, but it only makes Spider madder because he can’t understand a word he’s saying and the bright lights are irritating his eyes.

Quaritch moves closer and reaches for Spider, only for the kid to dodge around. Quaritch tries again but this time manages to actually get a hold on the boy.

So Spider does the only thing he can think of to do.

He doe the thing that he does best.

Spider bites.

Quaritch is shocked at how the kids jaw seems to lock into place, sharp teeth digging quickly through his skin and drawing blood.

Quaritch whacks Spider away in surprised panic after he can’t shake the kid off.

Spider growls at him as blood is smeared all over his lips and chin and Quaritch curses and yells at him.

Spider only continues to growl and yell in Na’vi before he attacks again.

Quaritch lashes out on instinct and ends up knocking Spider out. He feels a sort of mix of confusion and shock as he looks at this feral child lying on the floor, he also refuses to acknowledge the feeling of guilt in his gut as he puts the kid back on the bed and walks out.

Later when they’re patching him up he asks what the fuck was that about and then he gets told that it’s very likely that the kid didn’t understand what he was saying.

Quaritch refuses to believe it at first but agrees to try again using this Na’vi translation thing (think futuristic google translate😭😂)

Quaritch try’s talking to Spider and the kid hates the machine, like with a passion, because how dare it speak the great mothers language with no soul (I hope that makes sense).

But finally it’s confirmed that Spider can’t speak English.

Quaritch is in shock before he becomes outraged, starts cursing and blaming Sully for Spider being the way he is.

He decides he’s going to make the kid normal if it kills him.

It starts off with Quaritch cutting his hair, Spider isn’t bothered by the hair itself but he’s pissed at this demon touching him and trying to change something about him. Spider also doesn’t really understand what’s going on because Quaritch’s impatient ass could be bother to translate it for the kid…safe to say Quaritch gets bitten…..a lot.

They then try to put Spider in normal clothes and the kid is just not having it, he kicks and screams while the try to put it on and when they finally succeed he takes them off and rips them immediately after.

Quaritch eventually gets tired of watching the scientists and a few soldiers manhandling the kid so he basically tells them to all fuck off and just throws a pare of loses shorts at Spider so he doesn’t end up naked.

Spider doesn’t like sleeping in any of the beds, normally he’d just climb under them and everyone gets fed up of trying to get him so actully sleep in the bed.

News of the feral boy spreads quickly so they start taking him for tests. He freaks out every time so they have to fight him until he can be sedated, this obviously traumatises the kid because they are all awful people who don’t care about his discomfort as long as they get results.

There’s only so much screaming Quaritch can take before he puts a stop to it and says he’ll figure out a way to get some of the results they want. This gains him a little of Spiders trust….well, enough of it that he doesn’t keep getting bitten.

They agree to let Quaritch try his method and take Spider outside after the imbed a chip into his arm.

Quaritch is later horrified as he finds Spiders face and hand bloody after using both his teeth and a knife from the canteen to remove said chip.

Nobody’s really willing to try that again so they settle on making on collar. Spider screeches about it for hours but hey, he can’t get it off and he’s not biting himself anymore.

So they finally take him outside, completely sure that he wouldn’t be able to escape.

They were wrong.

Once Spider was in the forest again, eywa could get to her child, could save her child and fight the people who hurt him….eywa could do something

And Eywa was pissed.

The minuet they were away from the base the animals started attacking, it started slow. Just a few rocks being thrown, growls from the bushes…then the animals started attacking all at once.

Spider took his chance once he felt the great mother’s presence urging him to run, he didn’t hesitate.

Eywa led him towards his Ikran, a magnificent creature second only to the Toruk, but it’s body had been battered and scarred from old fights, it queue had long since been mutilated and torn off.

Spider is extremely relieved to be reunited with his winged friend who flys him high up into the hallelujah mountains.

The Recoms retreat back into the base and Quaritch is pissed when he finds out they can’t track Spider.

Eywa sends a message to Mo’at who sends scientist up to the mountains where they find Spider and remove the collar before they take him back to camp.

Spider is happy to see mo’at but he’s upset to know the Sully’s left, Eywa comforts him and he takes his Ikran to find them, trusting Eywa and the Ikran to lead the way.

Then they get to the Metkeyina and that’s just whole other ballpark of fun.

Tuk is very happy to have Spider back to threaten others with😏

I really loved this! Thank you for the ask! Let me know if any of you have any other questions ❤️

I hope you enjoyed⭐️

[bropunzeling]

thinking of how leon and matthew rushing to each other during injury is SUCH a jess bropunzelling move that i need marriage bets scene ehere none of the tkachuks believe that leon has spousal privieege

[(a) i feel aggressively called out 😂 (b) hmm maybe it would go a little like:]

"I thought," Leon says, sticking to Matthew like a burr, "you were trying not to get hurt this year. We talked about it."

Matthew laughs, and then winces because laughing hurts. Fuck, his mouth. "Contact sport, baby."

"It's the All-Star Game," Leon retorts, aggrieved.

Matthew shrugs. Can't account for freak accidents. He's not even sure how it happened---he was stuck skating backwards, he was bad at skating backwards, he fell over just in time to get a stick to the mouth, and when he sat up and spat on the ice it was red. Bedard looked a little shell-shocked as everybody came over to gawk, but Matthew was laughing too hard and then wincing too much to give the kid a hard time.

The one nice thing about it was that as soon as he got to the tunnel, Leon was there, newly changed into his street clothes and unwilling to listen to Matthew protesting that it wasn't even that bad, really, instead attaching himself to Matthew's side and refusing to leave. Sure, Leon may be hovering like he can fix Matthew's mouth through sheer proximity, but Matthew’s resigned to the fact that he likes that.

"Okay," says whichever of the Leafs trainers got stuck with the short straw this weekend, "Draisaitl, I'm going to have to ask you---"

"I can be here," Leon says, right as Matthew slurs, "He can be here." They look at each other, then Leon adds, "It's on the form."

The trainer checks something on a tablet. His eyes widen. There might be a snort. Then, he shrugs. "Alright, then."

Leon does nearly get kicked out ten minutes later for distracting Matthew while someone sticks their fingers in his mouth. It takes Leon nodding earnestly and swearing he'll stop for them to keep him in here, which also sucks because then no one is distracting Matthew from---

"Broken tooth," the doctor says. "You'll need a cap."

"Jesus Christ," Leon says.

"Hey, I'll be just like you two years ago," Matthew mumbles around the gauze. Fuck, his mouth hurts.

Leon rolls his eyes and grabs Matthew's hand. "If you actually used your mouthguard---" he says, because he's a fucking hypocrite.

Matthew glares, then squeezes his hand as hard as he can when the doctor gives him a numbing shot. As retaliation.

They sit like that during the aftercare instructions---nothing too hot; nothing too cold; nothing too hard; nothing good, basically; try not to make it worse before getting it capped---and then, once they're given the green light and an ice pack to help with the swelling, Leon drags Matthew out and down the hall so Matthew can finally get his pads off.

"Only you would get sticked at the goddamn All-Star Game."

"Pretty sure Bedard didn't mean it," Matthew points out, holding the ice to his lip.

Leon mumbles something under his breath that probably means he's going to be targeting a teenager next time he's on the ice at the United Center. Matthew probably shouldn't find that funny.

"Hey, shit, there you are," someone says. Brady clomps up to them, making to hug Matthew and then clearly deciding better of it. "We lost---"

"Fuck," Matthew says.

"And also they couldn't decide if they needed to put Bedard in the box, they were arguing for five minutes, it was fucking hilarious. Are you good? Is he good?" The second one is to Leon.

"Broken tooth," Leon supplies.

"Ouch," Brady says sincerely. "Well, get changed and cleaned up, I think Mom's about to storm down here if no one talks to her soon."

"It's not that bad," Matthew mumbles in protest as his brother and his boyfriend steer him towards the locker room.

It's only when he’s finally, finally out of his pads and on the way to the showers that he hears Brady say, in what he probably thinks is a whisper, "How the fuck did they allow you back there, anyway?"

Matthew glances back just in time to see Leon's ears go red.

[georgiapeach30513]

Jenn, do you have any more headcanons re: Sy that you could please share (asking for a friend, never mind that I’m the friend🤣🤣)

You once shared that he’d treat you with the utmost respect before respectfully disrespecting you in the bedroom and I’d like to please know more 🥺🥺🙏🏾

I hate when things get lost in the shuffle! So for the final ask of the night!!

Sy is actually one of my favorite Henry characters to play around with. Does anyone know his actual first name??? I need it for research purposes 😂 but he can be such a brute. He’s got the murder strut perfected. He is strong, and gruff. But I do think when he comes home, and sees you all cute in your sweats, he gets the biggest smile on your face.

Princess is definitely your nickname. He treats you like his queen though.

I also think he’s into booties, and gives you booty taps all the time. It’s almost his way of saying ‘Good girl,’ without saying it. But he’s also not above whispering dirty little words in your ear out in public. He loves to see your cheeks set on fire with embarrassment. Or the way you lean into his body, because you swear people can see your two heartbeats.

Sy is the epitome of respect. Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am. And he will be the first to defend your honor. But when he gets you home….

Oh that man is into some heavy degradation. But, you’re his. All his. And he loves that you submit so freely for him to do whatever is he wants. He loves stuffing your mouth with his fingers, and spitting into your mouth. Spit is his favorite lubricant. Sy is into manhandling, and he will. He’ll have you tossed all around, and he’ll place you how he wants you. But he’s so good to you, that you let him take whatever it is that he needs.

Sy wants you broken, and whimpering begging for him to fill you up with his seed. Your body is worn and tired, and you can’t even function. Good thing he’s strong because he’s holding you up at the end. Making you look deep into his eyes while you finish together.

Sy…what a man

[vhagars-dementia]

<<In a week>> with the best man to ever man, cregan stark:) what a fun concept though! You got to have an insane creativity for this.

The best man to ever man indeed, in fact the only man to ever actually man 😂😭 thank you for sending this in! I was extremely bored at work!

Also this one evolved some dialogue and now its a fic 🤡

In A Week

In which you manage to give yourself food poisoning ("the cake smelled fine i swear!"), offended a lord by falling asleep while he was speaking to your lord husband ("he truly was a boring storyteller") and almost burn the whole place down for attempting to cook rice in the middle of the night (okay you had no explanation for this random craving) all in one week. Cregan sighs, watching the you take the tea for your upset stomach, as the maester fusses around you and take your pulse. His body language alerts your husband when the maester moves to feel your pulse on your neck, comparing it to the pulse of your wrist. "Is everything alright?" Cregan adjusts his stance from the side of the bed.

"I think I can feel two pulses, my lord..." The maester answers.

"Yeah, because your feeling my neck and my wrist at the same time!" You jest, earning a stern callout from your husband. "What?" You roll your eyes.

"How long has it been since your monthly moon, my lady?" The maester asks.

Oh. That does explain a lot of things going on this week. Cregan answers the maester, giving him an estimate of about two months ago. The maester confirms it, congratulates you and leaves the two of you to talk.

Cregan is already smiling widely and dives into bed with you, pulling you closer.

"I told you the cake smelled fine! I didn't give myself food poisoning!" You finally recover from your thoughts.

"Aye, you're still banned from the kitchens." He kisses your forehead.

[reineyday]

TW: Long Ask Okay, so basically, this au has a long title but I dubbed it Child of the Sword. It started off with Zoro being able to see the spirits of the swords since in One Piece, swords are sentient and are possessed in a way. Only Zoro can see these spirits and talks to them all the time. At first, he didn't realize others couldn't see them. My friend and I played around with this a lot, and now's it's developed into a whole thing.

When Kuina died, Zoro's anger and grief erupted and Zoro discovered he was the incarnation of the Ancient Weapon: Ares. Created by the war god Asura. The sensei makes Zoro swear to never use his power in public unless it was life or death. Zoro goes on to see Kuina's spirit tied to Wado Ichimonji. During the shells town arc, Morgan is extra cruel bc he is Morgan, and when Zoro is tied in the courtyard he has the swordsman whipped on the back, marring and littering Zoro's back with scars. Zoro's honor is in shambles when Luffy shows up and helps him. During Baratie, Zoro fights Mihawk and loses, ending up with the scar on his chest. After Zoro promises to never fail, he whipsers "Finally a worthy scar" and Mihawk overhears. Mihawk almost noted how Zoro always seemed to be looking at things that aren't there. So naturally, the warlord decides to kidnap Zoro instead of Luffy (yes I am mashing up OPLA and the anime, fight me). The Straw hats go on the free Nami from Arlong then make plans to get Zoro back from Mihawk. Zoro is less than pleased to be kidnapped by the strongest swordsman. Mihawk brings Zoro with him to meet with Shanks about Luffy's bounty poster and Shanks convinces Mihawk to give Zoro back to the Straw Hats, but before that happens, Mihawk and Zoro end up talking about Zoro's special abilities. Mihawk comes to the realization of what Zoro is and keeps it to himself. During the two year time skip, Zoro reunites with Mihawk (even though he never stopped talking with the warlord after being dropped off ((begrudgingly)) at lougetown). Mihawk trains Zoro in the way of the sword AND helps him to realize his full potential. This is all I have for now, but I have ideas for Dressrosa and Wano. :D

oooooh this is so interesting! you could play a lot with the idea that zoro sees sword spirits! i'd also be so curious to know what zoro sees of yoru, if he sees her at all. im a fan of this theory i saw where being in control of your sword means being control of its spirit, and being in control is shown by your eyes looking like imu's. that perhaps hakuba is cavendish's sword spirit manifesting in a way cavendish cant control; that zoro's scarred eye is hiding proof of a spirit that had to be sealed away lest it overpower him; and that mihawk's eyes have those same rings because he's fully in control of yoru's sword spirit. i could see smth like that working in conjunction with kuina's spirit in wado diring the timeskip, that zoro trains with her (cries) to unlock wado ichimonji's full power, and that it's possible because of his ability to see sword spirits!!!

also obsessed with the idea that mihawk pivots and kidnaps zoro instead, especially because he really doesnt have to. 😂 mihawk meeting a boy that can see sword spirits and deciding "i will train him whether he wants me to or not" and then kidnapping him to give his nearly-bisected ass terrible first aid on his coffin boat... hilarious. 😂😂 shanks seeing the absolutely haggard and scowling teenager limping as he follows mihawk onto that island and being exasperated like,

shanks: you have to give him back, mihawk.

mihawk: no, he can see sword spirits. i need to have a hand in cultivating his power.

shanks: mihawk, you can't just--wait, you can what? omg does gryphon actually look like a gryphon?!?!?! wait, no, no, i'm trying to be the voice of reason here.

red-haired pirates in the background: *burst out laughing at shanks being the voice of reason*

and also probably mihawk will throw in some bratty sort of shot at shanks getting to bet on luffy and why cant he bet on zoro, and shanks will have to be like, "i didn't kidnap luffy, mihawk, just put him back!" hahaha.

i digress! interesting idea tho 👀👀👀

[daydreamgoddess14]

Aspirations pt. 4

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Menu planning, avoidant behaviour, protective Richie and jealous Carmy, anyone? Yes, I busted this chapter out very quickly because I couldn't wait to write it 😂 I'm happy with this one, I think. Hope you are too! Our chapter count has gone up - why tf did I think I could do this in 3?! 😅 - I'm pretty sure it's going to be 6 in total.

~~~~~~

“What’s next?” Nat asked later that day from the dining table while Syd moved the previous plate away.

“Oysters.”

“Nooo! Please no.”

“You said we could give it a shot?” Carmy looked hurt,

“I think we’re going to lose too much prep time shucking them and making them presentable.” Syd countered.

“We’ll time it. Nat, stopwatch?”

“On it. I’m kinda leaning with Syd though. Does anyone actually like them?”

“I do.” They both replied, “trust me, I know you’ll like these ones.” Syd continued.

“Show me why you can’t shuck them?” Carmy asked Syd, handing her a knife and an oyster. She looked wary but made sure the crustacean was secure in her hand and positioned the knife, “Ok, you’re going in at the wrong angle, may I?” He came close to her, head bent towards hers. She went to hand him both items but he shoo’d her hands away, “no, you’re gonna do it, Chef.” His hand covered hers, holding the oyster with her and his other hand joined hers on the knife. He changed the position of the blade and guided her to push the point of the knife into the hinge of the oyster. His hands cupped hers as they heard a small pop and the oyster opened up. “See, you did it.”

“I think you did it,” she replied softly, neither of them moving apart. Behind Syd, Nat cleared her throat. 

“Aren’t these supposed to be an aphrodisiac?” She asked. Carmy sprang away from Syd.

“Uhh yeah, it’s cos they look like… well. Y’know. Anyway, you’re gonna try this and I promise you’ll like it.” Syd smiled seasoning the opened oyster with a dressing of cilantro, lime and ginger she’d already prepared and finished it off with a drizzle of sriracha. Next to her, Carmy had lined up a couple of others he'd opened up and she seasoned those as well. “Ok… so just like, swallow it whole.” She handed the small plate to Nat who held it up for a better look.

“Swallow it whole? Ok, now you’re just fucking with me cos I mentioned the whole aphrodisiac thing?” Syd shook her head,

“Nope. I swear, you gotta just go for it.” Nat and Carmy both tried theirs at the same time. 

“Are you fucking real, Sydney?” He muttered, “that was insane.”

“You’ve converted me.”

“Cool. They’re still not going on the menu.” Syd laughed,

“They have to!” Nat protested.

“How about if we did it with scallops instead?” Carmy suggested, “We can’t not use this dressing, Syd.” She tried the last oyster for herself. 

“Yeah… that dressing is the shit. Scallops could work. I’ll get some from the fish guy tomorrow and try it?”

“Heard, Chef.” He replied with a small smile.

“Do I still need to time you?”

“No,” Syd went to speak up as Carmy said,

“Yes, please do.” He turned to Syd, “We have some left, it’s good practice.”

“Yeah, good practice for something I’m never doing again.” She teased.

“We’ll see about that. Race?” Syd’s eyes lit up. She loved it when he was like this, and it was becoming more and more of a regular occurrence since The Bear had opened. He had the same intensity and unwavering gaze, but he was playful and mischievous. She’d finally seen him the way Nat and Richie had known him before. Quick witted - often with an under the radar dirty joke that had her, Richie and Tina sniggering into their prep work while Marcus and Gary looked bemused. 

“Fucking fine. I’m going to own you, bitch.” He divided up the remaining oysters between them and handed her the knife back. He found another from the drawer,

“Doubt it, Chef. Nat, you judging? Don’t let her fuckin’ cheat.”

“You’ll pay for that Berzatto, I do not cheat.”

“Alright you two, let’s go before Pete gets back with Mikey,” Nat came to stand on the other side of the counter so she could see them both standing side by side, elbows brushing. “What’s the winner get?”

“Oysters on the fuckin’ menu.” Carmy decided.

“Nuhuh, that’s fine if you win… If I win though, I want you to make the dish I had in New York.” Confusion followed by shock crossed his face,

“Fuckin’ coming back to that after I’ve kicked your ass.”

“Please,” she scoffed, “let’s get this over with so you can cook for me again.” She rolled her eyes.

���You both ready?” Nat interrupted. “Three, two, one - go!” Syd snatched up her first oyster and, using the technique Carmy had just shown her, opened it without delay. She put each one she opened onto the plate between them, watching Carmy from the corner of her eye she guessed that he was maybe half a second ahead of her.

“Best meal I’ve ever had, y’know.” She said, watching his knife falter just briefly before he got it back under control.

“Good to know. Stop tryin’ to distract me.”

“I would never do that,” she grinned down at her oysters, taking advantage of his time slip.

“You’re always a distraction.” This time her hand stuttered. She caught herself just before the knife made contact with the palm of her hand but it was too late, she’d lost time. Carmy threw his last oyster onto the plate and dropped his knife. “Done.” Syd finished the moment he spoke.

“Ding ding! Carmen Berzatto, congratulations.” Natalie faux bowed to him. She picked up her pen, “so, oysters on the menu then?”

“Nah, we’ll do scallops instead.” He turned to Syd, “It’ll still work. We’ll do it like a -”

“Ceviche,” they said in unison.

“Thank you.” Syd acknowledged.

“Fucking weird.” Nat muttered, rolling her eyes. As she spoke, Pete came through the front door with Mikey’s stroller, “Ok, that’s my cue for a nap. See you guys in an hour. Don’t kill each other in my kitchen. Or anything else.” They dressed the oysters and cleared up before sitting down to eat. 

“Mmm. Holy shit,” Syd moaned, “I’m putting this dressing on everything from now on.” “It’s fire, Chef.”

“Thank you.” They fell into a comfortable silence until, “check your plum sauce.” She reminded him.

“Fuck, yes. Thanks.” He toyed with the heat and sat back down next to her, looking over the menu. “It looks good.” He noted, nudging her slightly.

“Yeah I think so. Just the right amount of festivity.” 

“Exactly. Seasonal.” She could feel his eyes on her as she made some notes for the soon-to-be scallop dish. “When were you in New York?” He asked at last.

“A long time ago. I saved up and blew everything on a few days there. Ate everywhere I wanted to.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. I wasn’t lying the day I met you when I said I knew of you. That meal changed my fucking life.”

“Mine too, I guess,” he took her wrist gently and pulled her up, “here, try this?” He took her to the stove top and gathered a spoon of the plum sauce. Unable to hand it to her without it spilling, he brought it to her mouth instead. She held his gaze as he placed the spoon in her mouth. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher but she could feel the heat spread from her cheeks down to her toes, could feel her thighs clench together in desperation. She was eternally grateful that she could easily hide a blush, but she was certain he could sense how her breathing changed. His fingers brushed against hers as she took the spoon from him, the taste of plum and winter spices exploding on her tongue.

“Fuck me.” She mumbled in surprise, eyes still on him. He arched an eyebrow, “the sauce. The sauce is really fucking good.” She confirmed quickly, realizing how closely they were standing. 

“Doesn’t need anything?” Her eyes flicked down to his lips as she subconsciously bit her own lightly. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She could feel herself leaning in unintentionally, her body automatically seeking him out. From his pocket, his phone rang and she turned on her heel instead and took the spoon to the sink with a shake of her head,

“Doesn’t need anything.” She maintained as he let the phone ring, still watching her. “You gonna get that?”

“It’s Claire.” He said, a little sadly. She nodded,

“You should take it. I’m gonna get some air.” She picked up the nearest outer layer, his sweater from earlier in the morning, and slipped out of the front door as she heard him answer,

“Hey babe,” She closed the door with a quiet click behind her and sat on the front door step with her head in her hands. What the fuck was she doing? What the fucking fuck was she fucking doing? She took deep breaths but all it did was remind her of earlier in the morning, wrapped in his arms with his hand on her back and hers on his heart. The heart he’d all but given to someone else. She needed to get a grip before she did something really fucking stupid. Co-workers did not share beds and spoons and eye fuck each other over a plum fucking sauce. She twisted her braids into a bun and secured it, welcoming the cool air on the back of her neck. She shouldn’t have picked up his damn sweater again, he was invading her senses in every single way and it was all becoming too much. She wasn’t sure how much distance she could keep anymore, he just kept drawing her in. She heard the door click again and he sat next to her. “You good?” He asked. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Surely he’d felt it too? Was he just as affected, or was she imagining it? She cleared her throat,

“This needs to stop.” She said firmly, not bothering to confirm what this was. 

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Yeah.” She got up, went back inside and tried to keep herself from falling back into his orbit for the rest of the day.

*

It had been weeks. Syd maintained an appropriate distance at all times. She tried to keep someone between them, took a full step back from her station whenever he came over to taste her dishes, tried to look anywhere except at him. It was fucking hard. Her eyes were drawn to him in every room, every time. She sought him out even when she didn’t mean to. And fuck she missed him. She occasionally wondered if he was finding it just as difficult, but pushed it to the back of her mind. They weren’t doing anything differently, she reasoned. They were still friends, still co-workers, still partners. She took a plate of pasta into Natalie in the office, Nat looked up at her in concern,

“Hey, you ok honey?”

“All good, Chef.” 

“You just seem a little… distant recently?”

“Just getting on with work.” At that, Richie burst into the office,

“Syd, if he asks, you gotta say no.” She looked bemused.

“Say no to who?”

“The fish guy. The pot wash at the taco place said he wants to ask you out.”

“The fuck? Why are you getting your information from the pot wash at the taco place?”

“We smoke together, trade intel.”

“About me?”

“About everything, Syd. Jeez, focus! The fish guy wants to ask you out, but you gotta say no - ok?”

“Not ok, Richie - why should she say no?” Nat stepped in,

“Cos he’s a fuckin’ dickbag that’s why!” 

“Who’s a dickbag?” Carmy asked, coming in and dropping into a chair.

“The fish guy.”

“Oh fuck yeah, he’s a fuckin’ dickbag. Why do we give a shit though?” He asked, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Cousin, he wants to ask Syd out, I gotta warn her off him.”

“He wants to do what?”

“I know, right? Fuck that. He’ll lose his fuckin’ teeth if he tries.” Said Richie, still affronted that he wasn’t being taken seriously. Nat and Syd exchanged glances.

“Look, if Syd wants to say yes then she can say yes -” 

“But -”

“But nothing. You will both just get your heads out of your asses and leave this the fuck alone, do you hear me?” She warned them.

“Syd, he’s a fuckin’ dickbag.” Carmy said, his voice low, something unrecognizable in his tone.

“Surely that’s for me to decide?”

“Woah, what’s happening here?” Claire squeezed into the room which was now at full capacity.

“Ugh,” Nat groaned, “these two are being ridiculous. The fish guy wants to ask Syd out -”

“Well, that’s good?” Claire asked,

“No it’s fucking not.” Richie and Carmy replied in unison.

“He’s a dickbag.” Carmy muttered.

“A total fucking bag of fucking dicks.”

“Can we stop with the phrase dickbag, please?” Nat pleaded.

“Look, I appreciate the concern guys, but I am capable of deciding for myself whether to date someone. I don’t… I don’t get why we have five fucking people in this office getting into my personal life?” Syd held her hands up.

“He’s not after a date,” Richie grumbled. “He’s after a quick fuck. Does it all the time at all the restaurants in town.”

“S’true.” Carmy confirmed, looking at his hands.

“He ‘dates’ these women for a while and then just fuckin’ ditches them. Waitresses, chefs, fuckin’ anyone who’ll say yes.”

“Have you considered that that might suit Syd?” Nat asked. Syd caught her eye and frowned with a small shake of her head, Nat shrugged.

“Syd’s better than that,” Carmy said, “you’re better than that.” He finally looked up at her, still standing by the desk.

“Again, that’s for me to decide.” She pointed out.

“I think you guys are, like, really invested in Sydney’s sex life. Don’t you think that’s a bit weird?” Claire asked.

“No.” Richie and Carmy replied together, again.

“Yes it is, actually.” Syd agreed with Claire. “Neither of you should care who I’m dating or fucking or whatever the fuck I’m doing in my spare time.”

“We’re looking out for you, cuz!” Richie’s voice rose again. She didn’t have time to pause when she noticed Richie call her cousin,

“This is a really weird way of looking out for me, Richie.” She suggests, “all I have to go on is that he’s a dickbag who dates around a lot?” She saw Carmy shoot Richie a look,

“Well, yeah - isn’t that fucking enough?”

“Richie, you sound jealous! Do you want to date Syd?” Claire teased.

“Fuck, no!” Carmy and Richie both shouted. “No offense,” Richie followed up.

“Ok, this is getting really fucking stupid. The guy hasn’t asked me out, I haven’t even seen him for weeks, and I have no idea what I’d say if he did ask me, ok? You,” she pointed at them both, “do not get to tell me who I can date or who I can fuck, understood?” Syd glared.

“Yes, Chef.” Richie mumbled. She looked at Carmy, his face unreadable.

“Carmy?” Claire asked on Syd’s behalf,

“Yeah, of course. Nothing to do with me, right?” He asked with a shrug, anger creeping into his voice.

“Cool, so now that we’ve established that Syd’s free to date whoever she wants, we getting out of here for a couple of hours?” Claire asked Carmy, rolling her eyes with a smile to Syd and Nat.

“Sure, I’ll just get my stuff. Meet you out front?”

“Yeah. Uhh… great catch up, guys. Syd, good luck!”

“Yeah, thanks. See ya, Claire.” They all waited for the sound of the swing door before speaking again.

“This is really fucked up.” Nat muttered, digging into her pasta. “Not this, this is gorgeous. This pair of fuckos.” She pointed with her fork at Carmy and Richie.

“I’m outta here for a bit,” Carmy made his way to the lockers and Syd followed.

“The fuck was that?” She hissed, aware of Richie and Nat in the office.

“Nothin’. Like you said, s’not my place to tell you who you can date.” He shoved his arms into his jacket, “or fuck. Right?” He added, his voice laced with anger.

“Correct. Because you have a girlfriend, remember? A friend who is a girl? So you shouldn’t care what I do.”

“Or who?” She glared at him. She tried to disguise her hurt with anger, but she couldn’t stop the stray tear on her cheek,

“Fuck you, Carmy.” She jabbed his chest. “Fuck. You.” She spat out, full of venom. He stilled, leaned into her hand.

“Yeah. Sure, Syd. Fuck me.” He reached up to brush the tear away with his thumb and slipped past her to Claire. She hesitated before going back to the office, trying to get her emotions under control so she didn’t cry in front of Richie or Nat.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Richie started as she walked back in. “Fuck, sorry. Can I call you sweetheart?” She nodded a little.

“S’ok. I know you meant to fucking protect me or some shit, I get it.” He met her forehead with his own,

“Yeah. But I was an asshole and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Richie.”

“Please say no if he asks you. I’m too fuckin’ old to be fightin’ toddlers in the fuckin’ street, huh?” She offered a brief smile.

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Ok. I gotta fuckin’ burn one. That shit was awkward as hell when Claire came in and Carmy was making fucking goo-goo eyes at you.”

“Fuck off Rich.” He laughed, patted her shoulder sympathetically and made for the back doors. Syd sat heavily in the chair Carmy had sat in, and slumped down while Nat quietly finished her pasta.

“You ok?” She asked.

“Not really.” She rubbed her hands over her face with a big sigh. 

“So you guys are just going to… what? Either be ignoring or fighting each other for the foreseeable future?”

“I guess so.” Syd shrugged, anger building again. “He has no right to tell me who I can date.”

“I know.”

“It’s nothing to do with him. Nothing at all to do with him.”

“I agree.”

“Whatever the problem is, it’s his problem to fix. Not mine.”

“I hear you.”

“What do I do, Nat?”

“You live your life, babe. You do whatever the hell you want and he can go to fuck.”

“Yeah. Yes. You’re right. It’s nothing to do with him.” Syd nodded.

~~~~~

[impossiblesuitcase]

how do you think the rampion crew would react to their child having an s/o?? thank you :))

Cresswell

Cress is a hopeless romantic, so of course she'd be delighted to see her kids start dating. But at the same time, she recognises just how naive she was when she began dating, and is mature enough to know that being in love does not always mean that person is right for you. So she gives her children advice, as well as looking out for any signs in the love interest that may pose an issue in the relationship.

Thorne is torn, all rhyming intended. He has two fears: 1) his child will date someone like he was as at that age, or 2) his child will become like him at that age. He now knows how flippant he was with people's feelings pre-Cress, and he doesn't want his children to have the same view of love being meaningless like he had. So he strongly dislikes his children from dating as teenagers, and it takes a long evaluation before he likes any potential interests. Once he does, he's cruisey as anything. Cress teases him because her father didn't approve of him, and Thorne has ended up just as protective 😂

Wolflet

I believe Wolflet would have a lot of children. So between all those kids, the family would be well familiar with the run-down when a new squeeze comes around. Firstly, everyone, Maman, Papa and the siblings welcome the prospective partner, then also embarrass them. There's always games and a hearty meal. Then they determine whether this person is the right fit; if they are, they will be happily welcomed in for another dinner. If this person is rude or cocky, Maman shows just enough of her ferociousness to send a clear signal.

It's a simple formula for weeding out the bad and keeping the good ones, and though their children find it embarrassing at times, they appreciate how much their family looks out for them.

Jacinter

The test is simple. If their child's love interest can survive a dinner of Winter's craziness and Jacin's 'I could crush you like a bug but I would feel more remorse for killing a bug than you' glares, then they're a keeper.

Kaider

Kaider remember just how much they had to fight to be together, so they obviously want to support their children's relationships. However, they also recognise that as public figures, anyone their children date will be tied to them by the media for the rest of their lives. So they don't allow their kids date as young teenagers as that isn't old enough to really make an informed decision on who to date.

Their daughters are fine with this rule, being more focused on studies and friendships than romance; Peony actually doesn't date until well into her 20s as she's happy girlbossing and preparing to become empress.

Their son, however, is not pleased. He's a hopeless romantic like Kai was at his age, and all his friends are dating, so he feels that it's what he supposed to do. At 12, Rikan begs his parents to let him date, then at 13, 14, and finally when he's 15, he says, "Dad was 15 when he started dating, so I should be allowed to!" They reluctantly agree but warn him to not date someone unless that person is genuine, because there's many people who will want to date him just because he's famous.

Rikan promptly ignores that advice and asks out a girl he only half-likes. They date for a month. Then she dumps him and sells a story to the media of how he was a 'toxic' boyfriend. Rikan is mortified and embarrassed that his parents were right and now have to clean up the PR disaster of the breakup. Betrayed, he swears off dating!

...for about three weeks. Then he's back on the hunt for a girlfriend. The next girl he dates is squarely against fame, aloof and opiniated. He takes her to meet his parents after 2 months, in which Cinder and Kai are of course chill. But after she's gone, they warn Rikan that she doesn't seem very interested in him, so he should have a talk with her about their goals before he gets too serious about the relationship.

Rikan shrugs off this advice, because obviously his parents know nothing. This relationship is perfect!

4 months later, he's talking to his girlfriend about university. She comments that she wants to study in Canada, and he promises to come visit her as much as he can. She raises an eyebrow and says, "you don't seriously think we'll still be together by then, do you? That's years away. You think I want to lose my identity to become your 'princess?'"

Rikan is shocked. His aunts and uncles and parents all dated young and committed to those relationships long term. He didn't even consider that his girlfriend wouldn't want that! So he breaks off the relationship, and truly commits to no more dating until he's confident it's the right decision. He also learns that his parents actually know what they're talking about.

Eventually, he does date a lovely girl that is serious about the relationship, and when he brings her home, his parents are as supportive as ever.

[sugar-omi]

(swiftie asker) EEEEEE YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY IT MAKES ME THAT YOU LIKE ALL MY SILLY SWIFTPILLED BRAIN WORMS… all your responses to asks that i’ve seen over the months i’ve been here are always hard-hitting and boy oh BOY did these hit me hard kajkjdsjfld so all of this to say. thank you for letting me ramble like this and actually taking my ideas and running with them??? i literally feel so honored aksjksfjd,, so please, feel free to match my writing freak and yap along with me because it’s always an absolute pleasure to see what you have to say about my ideas ehhehehe

PLEASEEEE THE DLC ALWAYS HURTS ME SO BAD, BECAUSE ONCE THE SILK-LINED CIVILITY IS GONE ALL HE CAN BE TOWARDS YOU IS BITTER, BECAUSE IT SEEMS THAT’S THE ONLY WAY YOU’LL LISTEN TO HIM EVEN IF IT’S NOT WHAT HE WANTS. AND WHEN THE DAY’S DONE HE KNOWS HE’D STILL RUN TO YOU IF YOU SO MUCH AS LIFTED A HAND TO BECKON HIM, KNOWING HE WOULD FIND YOU NO MATTER HOW LONG IT’S BEEN EVEN IF YOU WOULDN’T DO THE SAME GODDDDD IT HITS YA RIGHT IN THE JUGULAR

no because . the other night i was listening to the anthology and ‘peter’ started playing, and HOLY FUCK IF I WASN’T BAWLING MY EYES OUT BECAUSE BAXTER /IMMEDIATELY/ CAME TO MIND??? BECAUSE NOT ONLY DOES THE SONG ITSELF TIE INTO AND SORT OF CONCLUDE THE FOLKLORE LOVE TRIANGLE…BUT IN THE CONTEXT OF OLBA IT’D BE MC MOVING ON AND STILL BEING IN LOVE/WANTING BAXTER IN THEIR LIFE BUT BEING UNABLE TO WAIT ANY LONGER…because they spent five years hoping he’d call, and they’re just so /tired/ of it — they can give him their patience, but they can’t fix him…and they won’t waste their life trying.

“and i won’t confess that i waited, but i let the lamp burn” = mc trying to reach out and willing baxter to come back… “as the men masqueraded, i hoped you’d return” = mc wanting him to come back even as life goes on and they keep on keeping on… “with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’ve learned” = the fantasy of baxter finally putting down roots and /staying/ for once… “cause love’s never lost when perspective is earned” = mc still holding on to the memories despite realizing what baxter was really doing and how much they were hurt by it… “AND YOU SAID YOU’D COME AND GET ME BUT YOU WERE 25” = MC WAITING ALL THAT TIME FOR HIM AND HE NEVER SHOWED, BECAUSE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE TEMPORARY… “AND THE SHELF LIFE OF THOSE FANTASIES HAS EXPIRED” = MC NO LONGER BEING ABLE TO SUSTAIN THEIR LOVE FOR HIM WITH JUST THE MEMORIES HE LEFT THEM… “LOST TO THE LOST BOYS CHAPTER OF YOUR LIFE” = MC AND THE REST OF SUNSET BIRD BEING JUST ANOTHER CHAPTER IN BAXTER’S LIFE TO BE SHELVED AND TUCKED AWAY IN FAVOR OF THE NEXT PAGES… “FORGIVE ME PETER, PLEASE KNOW THAT I TRIED TO HOLD ON TO THE DAYS WHEN YOU WERE MINE” = MC SEEMINGLY BEING THE ONLY ONE STILL HOLDING ON TO THOSE SUMMER DAYS LONG GONE, AND FUCK IF THEY DIDN’T /TRY/… “BUT THE PERSON WHO SITS BY THE WINDOW HAS TURNED OUT THE LIGHT” = MC FINALLY BEING FINISHED WITH WAITING AND BEING UNABLE TO KEEP HOLDING OUT FOR SOMEONE THAT WON’T SHOW… can you tell i’m absolutely fucking insane about tswift bridges. hhahhaha. i am so Normal and Ordinary about these songs i swear

good grief this message got long. i am So sorry for all the text i simply have many things to say and am the bearer of the curse (the curse being both olba hyperfixation and "swiftie since 2014" disease)

YESS I WOULD LOVE TO MATCH YOUR FREAK 🤭🤝🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

ALSO OMFG YOU REMINDED ME OF THE FIC I WROTE FOR ENGLISH.... I was your first idea but with derek.... and MC got tired of waiting on derek n ended up with cove. my teachers comment was so funny, he said he was hanging on the edge of his seat waiting for MC n derek to get together 😂

but I love the whole "I couldn't wait for you anymore" troupe with derek and baxter. it's so painful, but so true.

and omg I'm listening to Peter now and omfg.... my heart is on the FLOOR.

it's so baxter... "I thought it was just goodbye for now / you said you were gonna grow up and come find me"

MC holding onto the hope that he'd come back once he was ready for a serious relationship.

"when crossing your jet stream, we both did the best we could do, under the same moon" COMING BACK TOGETHER WHEN YOURE MARRYING COVE AND RECOGNIZING THAT YOU DID YOUR BEST TO "LOVE" EACH OTHER AND CHERISH YOUR TIME TOGETHER....

i cant help but wanna associate "words from the mouths of babies, oceans deep. but never to keep" with baxter because he is a babe. he's so handsome, so suave...

he never made promises, he knows he would be damned if he made promises he knew he wouldn't keep.

but when he smiles at you like that, holds your hand like that, kisses you so softly, that blush far too darling on his porcelain cheeks for your heart to not belong to him... how could you not think that this is love. and that him walking you to your door isn't a promise.

and when he smiles, so glad that you missed him when he suddenly came to let you know he's back from visiting a friend of his parents in the middle of the night. how could this not be more. how could this not be him gifting his heart to you on a fancy platter...

"please know i tried to hold on to the days you were mine" MC and baxter trying to hold onto the days they spent together, because even though baxter left and cruelly shrugged you off.. he cherished it so much.

fuck, he literally keeps the souvenir you get him/he buys himself in the tourism moment (I forget what it's called. i think that's it?)

you can't tell me he didn't look at the item and cry. I know I would. I know his heart clenched so tightly it took his breath away, I know his eyes stung and I know he guilt ate him up in all its gluttony and it swallowed him with a satisfied sigh, eager to eat him up again once he's picked up the pieces of his broke heart tonight...

and I know his insecurities hugged him to their chest and carded their fingers through his hand, petted his check and whispered in his ear until even in the morning he still feels the sick touch of it.

and I know the frustration at what you could've had by now, and all the things he's missed out on with you, all those pretty smiles you used to give him he's missed... who wouldn't be angry about that.

reminding himself how fucking stupid he is for not letting himself be weak just once. that you wouldn't have hurt him, and that what he did was so fucking stupid.

but still reminding himself that he wouldn't have been good enough for you, that he's too broken, that his relationships are too fractured and damaged and dark for someone so sweet as you.

that the walls around his life are too high for your light to shine and he'd only dim you down, keeping your light for himself...

that'd be too selfish. he couldn't be that selfish.

"but the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light" YOU FOUND YOUR HAPPINESS WITH COVE AND ARE NO LONGER LOOKING BACK AT HIM..... THAT YOUR FUTURE IS FINALLY IN FRONT OF YOU AND NOT BEHIND YOU....

anyway. imma go finish listening to loml bc "who's gonna tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate" is DEVASTATINGLY BAXTER CODED AND WE GOTTA TALK ABT IT