#he does finally actually ask I swear 😂

[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 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 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 him. 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.

[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.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[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!”

[the-furthest-city-light]

Dunno if you meant it that way in your fic, but I found hilarious the idea of Mihawk kind of being a zolu shipper 😂

When he went on and on about what an amazing surprise Lucy was on the battle field I could imaging him finally seeing why Shanks chose to give the hat to her

....look I'm not saying Mihawk doesn't ship them, is the thing.

I do actually think it's interesting that Mihawk's apparent regard for Luffy is at first influenced by the regard of two people he does respect (i.e., Shanks, and then Zoro). Luffy attacks the guy who just trounced the strongest guy on his crew without a sweat and doesn't stop until he's assured Zoro is fine. Then Mihawk even witnesses the second best Zolu moment imo when Zoro swears he'll never lose again for Luffy. Luffy acknowledged him, and Mihawk's response is just "you make a good team."

Mihawk next sees Luffy in Marineford where he basically gives the same speech in canon as I gave him in the fic (though much abbreviated because oda is far less indulgent than I am).

And while he first noticed Luffy because of his relationship to others, I think this is the moment where he actually starts to respect Luffy for his own strengths. It's also an interesting character moment for Mihawk because he's almost always been portrayed up until this moment as the kind of person who does things alone and has no need for others but here he's acknowledging Luffy's greatest strength is his ability to connect with other people. It's something Mihawk himself lacks. Does it remind him of Shanks? Does it mean he's self aware enough to acknowledge his own failing by comparison here? Is this acknowledgement of the strength of human connection the reason he let two feral teenagers stay in his castle for two years? I dunno. You decide.

So Mihawk gains personal respect for Luffy in Marineford, then goes home and finds the aforementioned feral teenagers, and then Zoro asks Mihawk to train him. And like. Mihawk knows exactly why he does this. He even says as much.

Like, canonically, of course Mihawk isn't shipping them, but he has ALL THE PIECES and he knows they love each other. So I'm not saying Mihawk ships it but I'm not not saying that y'know?

Like. He knows Zoro is doing this for Luffy. He knows how important Luffy is to Zoro. He knows that Luffy is a person worth respecting.

Thank you for letting me use your ask as a zolu rant lmao but yes these were the thoughts influencing my "daddy mihawk ships it" chapters 😂

Thanks for reading!

[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.

[jasntodds]

Caving In [8]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,818

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, mentions of beating someone up (from the previous chapter), mentions of injuries, mentions of previous gaslightling (Gar),  I think that’s it actually??

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: Did I think Wednesday last week was Monday? Yes. And that’s why this is a week late because I didn't realize what it day it was until Thursday afternoon and didn’t have time to edit lol Season 2 Episode 2 starts with the next chapter, finally!! I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The next morning rolls around and you groan, stirring awake. A warm body is laying next to you and your eyes shoot open, suddenly very aware of the night before. Gong to Jerry’s, almost killing him with your bare hands, finding the boy in the basement, Dick’s disappointment, and Jason reading to you. It almost doesn’t feel real, not until you notice the ache in your hands, looking at them to see the bloody gauze. The night before was real and guilt hugs your bones like a force.

You never wanted to be violent. You never wanted to be an angry or vengeful person. You were never the kind of person to even punch a wall when you got mad. You weren’t even the type that got mad about much. It was always so easy to brush things off and make a joke, make everything okay just like that. But, trauma creates these cracks in the foundation of a person. It puts cracks in every aspect of what made them them, creating the perfect faults to crumble them, and destroy who they were before. Trauma takes the jackhammer and pounds endless flashbacks and nightmares into that foundation until the person is a pile of dust. And you hate Jerry for it. And the Joker. And yourself.

You hate yourself the most because you didn’t put up much fight to preserve the person you were before. You caved right into the haunting ghost in the back of your head as it’s dancing on your own grave. And you hate yourself for being violent last night when you never needed to be. But then you look to your right and Jason is asleep, peacefully beside you with the book open on his chest.

You’re almost completely certain Jason would bite you if you called him soft. But, that’s how he seems right now and you wonder how he deals with it. Sure, he’s not completely sane or normal, probably because of the trauma he’s been through. But, you wonder if it’s just the books or if there’s more to it because you’re sure you haven’t looked peaceful in two years. How does he do it? How does he handle the ghost chewing at the back of his head? Maybe being Robin helps. He gets to be Robin, be violent with a reason, be a rebel with a cause. But, maybe there’s more to it. Maybe that’s how he can sleep at night with ease and maybe that’s why, despite his overall detached cold attitude, he’s still caring in his own way.

Jason Todd makes you think you don’t have to hate yourself for last night because grief comes in waves and trauma makes scars. It takes time. It takes care to make things better. It takes time and care and a support system to heal from those traumas and the grief. It’s finding a tourniquet to put on your bleeding heart until it becomes bearable. Jason’s clearly found his and now you just have to do the same and you don’t have to hate yourself for it.

But, you’re pulled from your thought as a loud and obnoxious banging starts on Jason’s door. You roll your eyes while Jason stirs awake just in time to hear Dick on the other side of the door.

“Get in the kitchen.” Dick sounds annoyed as he bangs on the door one last time before he heads down the hallway.

Jason groans, putting his hands over his face, as if to be unaware of you still in his room. He shakes his head, rubbing his hands down his face and finally looks to his left. Jason shakes his head once more, remembering you falling asleep by the time he got to chapter three. He didn’t want to wake you just to move into your room and he definitely wasn’t going to give up his own bed. But, just waking up, he did momentarily forget about that and forget about telling you some of his secrets. Suddenly, he’s very aware of exposed he’s made himself.

“He sounds mad.” Your voice is quiet as you keep your eyes on the wall in front of you, trying to read the graffiti on the wall.

“Yeah,” Jason’s voice is flat and raspy, filled of sleep.

You look to him and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of him. “Well,” You clear your throat as you sit up, choosing to keep your head straight. “Thanks for last night.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jason sits up with you.

He doesn’t know what to do with this. Jason hasn’t done this before. The whole reading to someone thing, sleeping with someone without actually sleeping with them, waking up with someone in general. It’s not even like he actually has all that much experience with any of it anyway, but this with you is entirely uncharted. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do or say or how he’s supposed to act. You’re friends, of course, but is he supposed to do something else about it? The whole thing is confusing and makes his head hurt.

“We should probably get out there before he has an aneurysm or something.” You scoff, looking back at Jason with a tired smile.

You don’t really know what to do either. At least falling asleep with Gar makes sense. You’re just messing with Jason when you flirt with him. You do, definitely like him, but you like Gar, too. And Gar is nicer than Jason is, usually. Gar is a soft person and offers this oddly familiar sense of comfort that Jason doesn’t. Falling asleep with Jason feels very…awkward like you need to be doing some type of walk of shame for something that never happened. But, you’re almost entirely sure it only feels awkward with him because it’s him. Gar is always comforting so falling asleep with him would just make sense, it’s easy. If you walked in on Rachel asleep with Gar, it would make sense because Gar is just a comforting person. But, Jason, it’s as if it’s awkward because there should be a reason bigger than this. It’s like you shouldn’t be sleeping together unless either of you have some ulterior motive, whether it’s to get together or do something more and maybe that’s why it feels awkward to you. Because you almost kissed him and there should have been this other reason but there wasn’t and now you have to navigate the day about it.

“Yeah, probably.” Jason huffs as you scoot down his bed and stand up.

Your whole body is sore. You didn’t actually realize how much you used all of your muscles to fight Jerry last night. Everything, at some point, went numb but right now, you’re definitely paying for it. Your legs, back, arms, hands, everything aches. Maybe, you weren’t actually ready to fight because you thought after a few weeks of training, you wouldn’t be sore. But now you’re standing here in pain.

“You good?” Jason asks, putting his feet on the floor on his side of the bed, catching the wince on your face.

“Sore.” You answer, walking carefully to the door and you hear Jason laugh from behind you. You turn to look at him, narrowing your eyes at him. “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Jason defends through a tired chuckle.

“Ya laughed.” You retort.

“It’s kind of funny.” Jason chuckles, getting up from his spot and stretching, you noticing his shirt riding up a little with the action. Nice. “How’re your hands?” He asks, walking over to you.

“Also sore.” You look down to your hands, opening and closing your fists.

“It’ll fade in a day or two.” Jason assures you.

“That’d be nice.” You clear your throat as you reach for the door. “Good?” You ask and Jason nod.

The two of you head to the kitchen, Jason following you. When you reach the kitchen, Gar and Rachel are already there finishing up their breakfast while Dick is standing behind the counter. The two of you get looks from the other three. Rachel looks confused and almost a little disgusted, it’s as if she knows something neither of you are aware of. Gar looks sad, maybe a little heartbroken. That’s the thing about Gar that you also really like, he wears his feelings on his sleeve. He either doesn’t try to hide how he feels or he’s really bad at it. But, that makes Jason and you all the more confused. Clearly, you’ve missed something.

You take a seat next to Gar and Jason a seat next to you. Gar and Rachel haven’t looked away from Jason and you the whole time. Gar doesn’t actually know anything. The only thing he knows is Dick looked pissed when he woke up this morning and Dick said he wanted to have some type of meeting because of something you and Jason did. That’s all Dick would say about it and now with you and Jason walking in together, clearly having been in the same room since your door was open when Gar got up. It looks very fucking weird.

“Why is everyone looking at us?” You break the silence while Dick leans against the sink, crossing his arms.

“I called a meeting because of the two of you.” Dick explains but now he doesn’t sound so mad, he just sounds….tired.

“What did you guys do?” Rachel’s voice is accusatory. “You guys didn’t get caught like….doing one of those things Dick said not to do.” Rachel accuses, completely jumping to conclusions with the two of you walking in together and you lean over the counter to look past Gar with a confused expression. “In public.”

“Oh, gross.” You recoil back into your seat. “No! I would have more class than that!” You defend, annoyed about the conclusion she jumped to over one night. “We went to Jerry’s and I almost beat him to death.”

Dick holds the bridge of his nose and he would have liked a calmer discussion about it. But, sure, that works and somehow, completely fits right in with every other conversation that happens in his tower. What did he really expect?

“You what?!” Gar and Rachel both yell, leaning over to look at you and Jason.

“It was pretty badass.” Jason smirks with a huff.

Dick lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, it wasn’t. It was stupid.” Dick says, giving Jason a disapproving look.

“Yeah, that’s a thing that happened last night.” You sigh, leaning back and pulling your sleeves over your hands, Gar getting a glimpse at the bandages.

He’s a little pissed off. First of all, it was stupid. You could have gotten hurt or taken again. He could have killed you and Jason if he had some type of power you didn’t know about. You also could have gotten caught by someone else. It was stupid. But, he’s also kind of upset that you took Jason. Gar definitely would have tried to talk you out of it, but he would have gone with you had he not been able to. But, you took Jason. Why Jason?

“Kind of offensive as fuck that you’d think we....what went at it in the living room?” You huff because you aren’t just gonna let that go and it’s better than talking about last night. “Because I slept in his room?”

“What else would you have been doing?” Rachel tries to hold her stance. She knows she’s wrong but she’s also too proud to say that.

“Having a conversation, watching a movie. Literally, anything but that?” You fire back and why is it an issue when it’s Jason but not Gar?

“Think she’s just jealous, Y/n.” Jason chimes in, looking down the counter at Rachel who grimaces. “Gar and me, giving you attention, gotta get to her eventually, right?” Jason isn’t gonna let you take all the heat from Rachel. You have to deal with Dick and you’ll have to talk with Gar. Jason can shut Rachel up real quick.

“Fuck you, Jason!” Rachel yells. “I--”

“Okay, enough.” Dick cuts Rachel off, tired of the back and forth that he knows you decided to pick at it to deflect the conversation. Dick’s face is displeased as he looks to you. He is still a bit upset about last night. “So, because of last night’s events and that time the two of you,” Dick looks to Gar and Rachel, you and Jason wondering what the hell that’s about. “Snuck off behind my back, I have a new rule.”

“Here we go.” Jason scoffs, resting his head on his fist.

“Curfew for all of you is ten and there’ll be a lockdown. I’ll be the only one with a code to unlock the tower to come and go after ten.”

“Nice, guys.” Rachel quips. Yours and Jason’s fuses running shorter than usual with her this morning. What is her issue?

“Fuck you, Rachel. You didn’t fucking go anywhere anyway.” Jason huffs, looking down the counter at her. “He said it was your fault, too.”

“That’s not the point.” Rachel snips. “We didn’t almost kill anyone.”

“Well, actually, I did….kill someone.” Gar interjects. The argument starting to drive him insane. “We did get us, Dick, and Kory kidnapped and then I killed someone and then Dick killed people and then Kory killed people.” Gar explains with a slight grimace.

You look to Gar shocked. He never gave a vibe capable of murder, maybe it was the tiger. You’re not sure but you’re definitely curious about it. But, then you look to Dick, wondering why it was such a big deal last night. At least you didn’t kill anyone.

“We’re not arguing about it. I’m just letting you guys know. You can’t go off behind my back whenever you want. We have to have rules.”

“You our dad now or something, Dick?” Jason quips.

“No.” Dick shakes his head. “But I am in charge.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out?” Jason snips.

“That all?” You cut between the argument that is sure to escalate. It’s simply too fucking early for this shit.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Dick says.

“Cool, can I…go back to bed now? I’m tired.”

“You should--”

“Should have thought about that before I snuck out at two in the morning and didn’t go home until like four. Yeah, got it, I’ll try harder.” You cut him off before hopping off of your seat and leaving without another word.

“Is she okay?” Gar asks, looking to Jason.

Jason shrugs. “She’s probably just tired, man.” Jason watches you, keeping his eyes off of Gar until you’re out of view.

Jason’s stare did not go unnoticed by Gar or Rachel. It’s one thing for you to walk out together after last night and they both kind of thought maybe the flirting was just that. Jason flirts with everyone and you don’t seem to entertain the idea of Jason seriously but now, Gar and Rachel think there might be more there. Maybe not for you, but for Jason. Gar is almost certain of it, at least.

“Where are you going?” Dick asks as Jason hops down from his seat and starts walking towards the hallway.

“Shower, got a problem with that, too, now?” Jason quips back and finishes walking off before Dick could say anything else.

Gar takes Jason’s word for it and he figures someone should go check on you. Gar figures last night was probably a lot for you and maybe you’ll want to talk some of it through or just want some company to keep your mind off of it. At the end of the day, Gar cares about you and you’re friends. Dick isn’t going to check on you and Rachel clearly isn’t in the mood to be friendly with you. Jason is Jason so, Gar wants to do what he does best. Make sure you’re okay.

Gar sucks in a breath and he starts moving to get off his seat but Rachel’s hand on his shoulder stops him. “Let him do it.” Rachel says softly.

“What?” Gar raises a brow at her.

“He’s not going to shower.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “He’s just too Jason to say he’s checking on y/n. Let him do it. She’s not your problem.”

“That’s not…” Gar shakes his head and he can’t figure out what Rachel's sudden issue is. To his knowledge, Rachel and you are on good terms but the way she worded that, he’s thinking maybe not. “Did something happen between you two?”

“No.” Rachel shakes her head. “But, she went off with Jason for a reason. If they wanna do whatever it is, let them.”

“I don’t think they’re doing anything, Rachel.” Gar defends and that aspect is none of their business anyway. Gar is positive that Jason would have something to say if something more were going on or he would have flirty right in front of them right now. It is Jason.

“She slept in his room.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “They flirt all the time, seems like something’s going on and maybe they sealed the deal last night.”

Dick groans from in front of them. “Do you have to have this conversation right now?”

“She sleeps in my room.” Gar shrugs his shoulders, facing away from Rachel.

“Okay.” Dick lets out a sigh. “She’s your friend.” Dick looks to Rachel. “You are Jason’s friend,” Dick looks to Gar. “If there’s something, they’ll tell you both.”

“Because Y/n is so forthcoming.”

“She is with me.” Gar quips, his own patience starting to run thin. “Maybe she thinks you judge her too much.”

“And Jason doesn’t?” Rachel chortles. “Jason is one of the most judgmental people I have ever met.”

“Didn’t you have a crush on him in Chicago?” Gar snaps back and he’s sick of her talking poorly about his friend. Sure, Jason is a lot but they live together and they’re on the same team. Jason only ever even stars shit with her when it’s training. Outside of training, Rachel is usually the one to throw the first jab. “Maybe Jason’s right, maybe you’re just jealous or worried or something.”

Rachel is not jealous. It’s almost laughable because her two-second crush on Jason was just that. He’s charming and nice to look at but then a lot of things spiraled and Jason hasn’t exactly been nice to her since. But, she’s worried that if Jason and you are together and something happens, it’ll make you want to leave. You don’t seem the type to stay when things get a little rough or when you’ve been hurt. Rachel likes having you around, even if you defends Jason a little too much. She just doesn’t want to lose a friend, even when you fight.

“Shut up, Gar!” Rachel yells, cheeks flushing and Dick hates his life right about now.

“Look, last night was a lot for Y/n. Maybe Jason is the right person to check on her since he was there. Neither of you were. So, finish eating and get ready for the day.” Dick cuts the conversation tired of the back and forth and Gar and Rachel do as told, figuring it’s best not to push more Dick’s buttons today.

You’re laying on your bed, your stare at the ceiling while your feet are planted on the floor. You’re just not in the mood for it today. Every action has consequences and you do not want to deal with yours. You don't even know where you would start because so much happened between Jerry and the boy and then Jason and Dick. There's so much to unpack and you know you'll have to do it but you do not want to do that today or listen to anyone yell at you about it.

There’s a knock on your door and before you can even tell them to go away, the door opens. You sit up just enough, expecting to see Gar but it’s Jason. You almost do a double take. He just invites himself in now? And somehow, you’re not even bothered by it.

“Sup?” He asks and he has that grin that makes you want to jump out of your skin.

“Sup?” You echo, going back to your position.

Jason closes the door and walks over to the bed, looking down at you. “What’re you doing?” There's a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

“Laying down.” You keep your eyes at the ceiling.

Jason sighs and matches your position, laying down beside you and staring up at the ceiling. You look over at him with a raised brow. “You good?” He asks.

You look back to the ceiling. "What the fuck is Rachel's problem?"

Jason lets out a huff. "What isn't her fucking problem?"

"No, I mean, there's obviously something. She like...really hates you, what is up with that? You're really not that bad."

"Not that bad." Jason echoes.

"I'm not gonna stroke your ego right now, I did that enough last night." You retort with a laugh.

Jason laughs beside you, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "Dunno." Jason answers. "Everything was fine until her dad possessed me and made me almost kill my best friend." Jason gains a snark to his voice. You want to unpack that trauma instead of your own.

You look over at him with a raised brow. "Yeah, Gar mentioned that." You suck in a breath. "Seems you have more reason to hate her than she does you."

"Well, I'm just..." Jason stops himself, you watching him carefully. He glances at you for just a second and he's not gonna finish that thought. He knows how people view him and if he says it out loud, maybe you’ll start to view him like that, too. Unlikeable, unworthy, not good enough, unlovable. "You're deflecting." Jason matches your stare and something about you being so close makes the both of you feel warm again. Neither of you realized you had even been cold, not until you make eye contact.

"You did say I was very good at it." You look back to the ceiling because the idea of looking him in the eye is suddenly nerve-wracking in a giddy kind of way. 

"You are." Jason chuckles softly. "So, honestly, you alright?"

“I guess.” You let out a sigh. “Just….ya know? A lot still.”

Jason looks over at you just as you look at him and maybe you should talk about last night. You did almost kiss, that was a thing that definitely would have happened had Dick not walked in. It’s in the air now and you can feel it but you’re both quiet about it. You don’t want to bring it up because maybe it’s a game to Jason. Part of the fun with him is that it’s a game. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not about it and that's fun. But, if you bring it up, then it gets serious. You get to find out exactly what’s going on inside that head of his and you don’t think you want the answer if it’s not what you want. And Jason, he doesn’t want to overstep if Gar is actively wanting to seek something out with you. He thinks he’ll fuck it up anyway. You’ve been through a lot and if he’s the one to bring it up, he’s worried you’ll reject him or worse, you’ll want him, too. That’s somehow so much worse because he ruins everything he touches. Everything and everyone’s lives get worse because of him and he can’t do that to you. So, he stays quiet about it, too.

“Wanna train?” He asks as you face the ceiling, choosing to let you take it out on him instead of talking.  “Get that shit off your mind?”

“Gonna go easy on me?” You quip, turning your head to face him as he faces the ceiling again.

Jason gains his signature smirk. “Said I would, didn’t I?”

“That you did.” You laugh softly.

“Get up then.” Jason sits up and You follow suit.

“Hey, Jay.” You call and your eyes are tired but soft. “Thanks again for last night, I owe you.”

Jason shakes his head. “Don’t tell anyone about the reading and call it even.”

“Why don’t you want anyone to know?” You ask.

You can figure why but you ask anyway. To you, it's just reading. Lots and lots of people read. It doesn't seem like such a big deal but to Jason it is. There's something about it that he wants to hide and you want to know what it is. You did ask him last night to tell you something, but you’re also a little curious why he actually did and then why he invited you into his world. It was more than him telling you about it, it's that he read to you. You think everyone should see that side of him, it might change their opinion, if it means so much to him.

Jason shrugs a shoulder. “It’s my thing.” Jason scrunches his nose.

It is his thing. Bruce knows, of course, because Bruce buys him books and has an extensive library which he's found Jason in several times but that's it. It's his thing that no one can take that away. Libraries are free, there's one in every city. The internet contains free books, it's the one constant in his life. But, a part of Jason likes the rough exterior he gives off and maybe if people know he likes to read, it'll soften him, even just a bit and he doesn't like that idea very much.

“And you shared your thing with me.” You give him a pout and Jason nearly combusts as his heart thunders in his chest. “Awww, that’s so sweet.” You’re joking with him but it makes your heart swell. It's his one thing and you’re one of two people Jason chose to share it with.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason scoffs but there’s a smile on his lips. “I can share another thing with you.” He wiggles his brows at you.

You burst into a fit of laughter and Jason's heart skips a beat while his stomach swirls with your laugh. You suck in your laughter, letting out a sigh before getting your face an inch from his. “Only in your dreams, Jason Todd.” You pull away, getting a look at his flustered expression and you think Jason being flustered might be your favorite sight.

“My dreams just got better then.” Jason quips right back.

You laugh again, your cheeks burning. “Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Jason’s won the game again. “Come on.” You get up first and you offer a hand to him.

Jason takes it. “I’m not going too easy though.” His eyes narrow flighty, a teasing grin on his lips.

“I don’t expect you to.” You hold your smile, Jason’s hand still in yours.

There’s almost a sadness that encompasses you both with the realization that neither of you are going to bring up the elephant in the room. Jason expected you to. You’re blunt enough to say something or maybe even try to finish it. You don’t seem the type to be afraid of that kind of thing, if you were, you wouldn’t openly flirt with him and Gar. But, you don’t and it makes him a little sad. Not shocked, just a little sad.

And you, you expect Jason to make some joke about it or something. He should have a quip or something but he doesn’t. He acts like he didn’t almost happen and you even expect him to finish it from last night. Jason doesn’t seem the type to just let that stuff get brushed under the rug. You actually expect Jason to be blunt about it and cocky because he is about literally everything else. If he wanted you, you think he’d do something about it so it hurts, just a little. But, you both keep quiet about it and pretend it didn’t happen as you walk to the training room.

Later that night, all of you all find yourselves in your separate rooms. Rachel has kept her distance from you and Jason. You figure it’s best not to pry and you’ll figure it out later. Jason and you spent a good portion of the day sparring and throwing knives, Jason will probably always have you beat with sparring but you have him beat with knives. Gar joined you both for a little while sparring, too which was nice for both of you. It eased some of the awkwardness you and Jason created from the night before and from not talking. So, after the last training session, everyone took their showers and went off to their rooms for the night. But, Gar hasn’t had much of a chance to talk to you one-on-one today and figures now might be a good time. He still wants to know what happened and you’ve been quieter than you normally are today.

Gar knocks on your door and you open it within seconds, allowing him in with a smile before walking to your spot on the couch. The thing about Gar is that he’s predictable. You knew he’d be coming to your room to talk about what happened last night because you didn’t talk about it earlier. Jason was the one who checked on you which means Gar doesn’t know the story and you know he’ll need to make sure you’re okay because that’s what he does. Gar always makes sure everyone is okay and he’s predictable. There’s a sense of comfort in his predictability.

“Are you okay?” Gar asks as he walks over and sits beside you. You nod, smiling softly at him but there’s a tiredness in your eyes. “Did you want to talk about what happened last night?” Gar trends carefully not sure how you’re going to react. Gar is predictable, you are not.

“Beat up Jerry.” You answer, looking at the TV.

You aren’t intentionally being quiet. There’s just a lot to process and training allows you to do that without talking. Jason allows you to process without talking when he read to you. You like to process in silence but a part of you thinks that might end up being your downfall. Being quiet about everything that has ever felt too heavy has only ever led you down paths of chaos. Maybe you should talk more.

“Yeah, but why would you do that? You said you wouldn’t risk it and then you did?” Gar’s words hold more force than they normally do. “And you took Jason?”

You look at him, surprised that’s what he’s upset about. Jason?

You let out a sigh. “I didn’t…pick him.” You say, keeping your voice soft. “He figured I’d go after him with the newscast. He waited in the kitchen and caught me.” You explain and you feel bad. You didn’t think he’d be upset about Jason going with you.

“You were gonna go alone?” The worry stretches across Gar’s face and through his words, almost breaking your heart. You never considered how worried Gar would be had this gone south. He’s worried now and it all worked out, relatively okay.

You nod. “I didn’t want to involve anymore.”  There’s a sense of shame that fills your bones and maybe you deserve to feel like this.

Gar is just worried about you. He’s not even upset anymore. He was initially because you said you wouldn't go after Jerry and it was dangerous. And then you brought Jason. It all just hurt him and freaked him out at the same time. Then all day, you’re quiet. You didn’t have many quips for Jason, there wasn’t that banter or the usual kind comment you make to Gar. You never tried to sort it out with Rachel like you did when you had a small argument two weeks ago. Gar’s just worried and he wants to help. And you know that. He isn’t trying to guilt you or shame you. But, you worried him because he cares about you and if the roles were reserved, you wouldn’t be so nice about it.

“Why didn’t you come talk to me about it?” Gar asks softly.

There are a few reasons you didn’t just talk to Gar about it. A part of you is truly terrified that you’ll be too much for him. You don’t want to ruin him with your eternal pessimism and baggage. You’d never hesitate had you met him before the trauma. It would have been easy then but now you have all this bullshit weighing your shoulders down so much it’s hard to even get out of bed. You don’t want to ruin him or break him because you’re drowning. Bringing Gar down with you would be unforgivable.

But, a part of you also wanted to be mad. You’ve been mad for a long time but the anger and fury were suppressed by the need to stay alive. You didn’t have time or patience or energy to be mad and furious about any of it. All of your energy went into breathing and keeping your mind focused on an escape plan. No part of you had this energy to spend to be mad and sulk about every bad thing that’s happened to you in the last two years. Seeing Jerry on the news, it was as if it gave you permission to finally be really, really pissed about it. To be pissed at him for the unforgivable shit he did. The ghost in your mind won but maybe you let it, as bad as it sounds and as guilty as you feel about it. But how are you supposed to tell Gar any of that?

“I dunno.” You shrug. “Talking’s not my strong suit, I guess.” You tug your sleeves down over your hands.

“You can always talk to me about it, Y/n.” Gar urges. “Or we can talk about something else if you don’t wanna talk about that.”

You hang your head. “I know. I, uh, I just…I dunno. I wish I had a better reason, but I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Gar’s face softens but he’s still worried about you. “Did…it help?”

You shake your head. “No, it did not.” You finally look at him and the guilt is suffocating. “Jason had to pull me off of him. I just…completely lost my fucking mind. Um, the fucker had a little boy in the basement chained like me.”

“Wait, what?” Gar’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I found him. That’s how Dick found out, I had Jason call while I freed the kid.”

“Shit, that’s horrible. Is he okay?”

“Traumatized probably, but yeah.” You nod. “He said Jerry didn’t hurt him.”

"That's...wow." Gar looks forward, trying to process what you just told him.

"Yeah..." You suck in a deep breath. "It was a lot so, um, Dick was pretty pissed. Jason...actually was pretty helpful and nice about it believe it or not." You scoff, gaining a bit of a smile thinking about the kindness that Jason showed. "It was pretty late and I didn't want to wake you up and have to explain everything that happened. It felt like...it was just too much." You shake your head. "I didn't... wanna even think about it anymore and waking you up would mean thinking about it. So, I went to Jason's room so I wouldn't be alone and he let me just be." You neglect the part about the book, not just because you promised Jason, but because you like the idea of keeping that part of a secret between just the two of you.

"He can be kind of a pretty good friend." Gar smiles softly at you, glad that you at least had him and he wasn't an asshole for once. Actually, Jason kind of treats you better than he treats anyone else at the tower.

"Yeah, he is." You nod. "So, nothing happened. I saw the look on your face when we walked out this morning." You chew the inside of your cheek. It feels like a lie but it's not because nothing happened. You didn't bring it up and neither did Jason but him not bringing it up, tells you there's nothing more. It's a game and that's okay.

"Oh, uh," Gar gives an awkward chuckle. "That wasn't--"

"It's fine. It was weird, I'm sure." You shrug it off because you don't want to talk about that either but it was important that you clarified it, especially with Rachel's comments. "Are you doing anything tonight?" You ask.

"Not anything out of the ordinary." Gar chuckles softly.

"Did you wanna just hang out?" You ask. "Watch movies, not talk about....the shit."

There's something going on, Gar can see it. He expects you to deal with last night, of course but something isn't sitting right. Something in the very pit of his stomach is telling him there's something more going on, something maybe bad. Something's wrong and he wants to know what. He wants to help. Even in serious conversations, you at least smile more or smirk or have some type of smartass comment about something. This time, you’re dry like you’re just trying to get to the end of the conversation as quick as possible. And Gar starts to worry more about you. But, he agrees to not talk about it for now.

Gar goes off to the kitchen to grab a snack while you grab your comforter and move to the couch. You pick one of your comfort movies and pauses it to wait for Gar. While you wait, you check your phone, something that almost felt like an impulse. The only one who knows you’re even...around are the people in the tower but apparently, those years of being glued to your phone have left a muscle memory that comes back like riding a bike. It's a weird thing to do as you think about it, but you shrug it off and scroll through Instagram to kill time.

"What're we watching?" Gar asks as he plops down beside you, a bowl of strawberries, with the tops cut off, in hand.

Your face lights up with the bowl of fruit. "Jurassic Park." You hit play, scooting closer to Gar and snatching a strawberry.

"Imagine if that actually worked." Gar says, almost in amazement as he grabs his own strawberry.

"There is literally an entire movie franchise as to why that's a bad idea. We're watching the first that proves that." You laugh softly.

"Yeah, I know but like imagine having a triceratops in your backyard or something." Gar shrugs at you. "That'd be awesome."

Your eyes narrow. "Okay, now hear me out."

Gar nods, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. "You have my attention."

"You turn into a triceratops and we don't have to worry about anyone being eaten or impaled or stomped on." You pop another strawberry into your mouth. "I'll take pictures to show you and it'll be kind of the same thing."

Gar lets out a booming laugh. "That's not the same thing! It doesn't count if I'm the dinosaur!"

"IT COULD, GARFIELD." You yell with a laugh, completely ignoring the start of the movie.

"Nah." Gar's laugh subsides as he shakes his head, the smile turning a little sad. "I can only turn into a tiger."

You give him a sympathetic smile. "You told me you turned into a snake once, though! So, I think you could turn into a dinosaur." Your smile turn reassuring as your eyes soften.

Gar gives you a one-sided smile, still a bit sad. "Yeah, that was different though. I was almost killed by my friends and it just happened. It's like there's this block...I can't transform into anything else unless I'm really scared."

You pursed your lips before moving your mouth side-to-side. "Yeah," You shrug. "But maybe that's like the thing though. Maybe it was the trauma that made it happen so if you can figure out how to channel that, maybe you can change into something else whenever you wanted." You let out a breath. "Maybe talking could help?" You suggest because if you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that talking about it does tend to help even temporarily and even when you do not want to. Even just a little bit, it helps and you’ve learned that from Gar. You think maybe Gar should take his own advice talk about it a little bit.

"Yeah, maybe." Gar shrugs.

"You could talk to me. I bitch a lot but I can be a pretty good listener." Your lips curl into a cheesy smile.

Gar chuckles softly. "Thanks, it means a lot."

"I think you could do it. I think you could do anything, really."

"Yeah? Why?"

You shrug. "Dunno, I just believe in you." You smile softly at him, going in for another strawberry. "Does it hurt? When you turn into a tiger?"

Gar shakes his head. "Not really." He answers and he gains this look of fondness as he starts to talk. "It's like...electricity flowing through you but it doesn't hurt." Gar holds his voice with ease. "I just feel so strong and I wanna...break shit and scream in a good way. It feels...empowering."

"I think that's pretty cool." Your voice is soft as you look at Gar with endearment. "You deserve to feel powerful."

Gar quirks his head to the right, questioning what you mean by that. It's not that he doesn't feel powerful, he doesn't. Not really, not in human form. But, why should he feel powerful? He's safe in a tower with his friends. He's a Titan which is probably the coolest thing that's ever happened to him. He has freedom for the first time in a long time.

"I mean not like a power trip thing or anything." You clarify. "I mean powerful in the sense that you stand up for yourself and powerful in the sense that like you just get to be you, unapologetically and shamelessly."

Caulder Manor wasn't all bad. He was safe and always had food. He had his video games and he did have people there who were nice, though they weren't really interested in anything Gar had to say usually. Except for Rita, Rita usually let Gar talk about whatever he wanted. But, he was never allowed to stand up for himself. The Chief would gaslight him, tell him that he was wrong because The Chief always knew what was right. The Chief controlled him and made it seem like it was in Gar's best interest and his safety was of the utmost concern. Clearly, it wasn't. But, a part of that is basically conditioned into Gar now. It's hard to suddenly be able to speak his mind without judgment. It's something he gets to unlearn in a safe environment.

"Thank you." Gar's smile is soft and shy. "You do, too, ya know? Maybe...without the violence though." Gar's forehead wrinkles as the smile turns quirky.

"Ha-ha." You mock. "Funny." You laugh softly. "Yeah, I will try not to be violent again."

"You could get a hobby that isn't violent." Gar suggests, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

"I have hobbies that aren't violent!" You put a hand over your chest, faking offense. Gar just looks at you with a wrinkled forehead and narrowed eyes. "I watch movies and TV, that's a hobby."

Gar hums. "Is it though?"

You scoff, the smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Okay, since you're so smart, what hobby should I have?" You prop your arm on the back of the couch, eyeing Gar with curiosity.

He shifts in his seat. "I don't know." He laughs, tilting his head back. "Do you draw? Paint? Play an instrument? Photography? Video games." Gar gives you a slick smile with the last suggestion.

You give him a shy grin, tilting your head to the left and right. "I used to do some scrapbooking." You scrunch your face.

"Wait, but that's like really cool." Gar shakes his head, a sweet smile turning up his lips.

"You think so?" You ask, voice laced with hints of confusion.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Gar scoffs. "Isn't like really time-consuming? And doesn't it take patience and practice to make it look good?"

"I dunno. Not many people seemed interested in it, I guess." You feel your cheeks burn. "Yeah, it can take a little while depending on what you're trying to do. I always had a theme for a page or a book and then I'd have to find what I was looking for that matched or take the pictures to fill in some spaces." You explain. "I would do extra chores to earn money to buy everything." You laugh softly.

You always liked the idea of preserving memories in tangible things. In an instant, everything can be ripped from you and it was. You didn't get to take anything with you unfortunately but the thought was there. If something ever happened, you'd have memories in a book, fully decorated and themed to whatever you wanted. It makes you sad thinking about it because you know you'll probably never see those books or some of those photos ever again.

"You should pick it up again." Gar beams at you. "Maybe you could show me."

"I don't wanna bore you." You laugh.

"You can't bore me." Gar shrugs as if it was the easiest thing he's ever said.

"Well, that's very sweet." You say softly, Gar's cheeks starting to burn. "Maybe, we’ll see." You tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, covering your bandaged hands. "Are you okay?" You ask bluntly.

Gar's brows furrow, a shake to his head. "Yeah, why?"

You shrug one shoulder. "I don't ask you very much. You're always checking on me and you said your friends almost killed you and that got you to transform."

"Oh." Gar huffs, looking to his lap. "Yeah."

Your eyes narrow slightly while your heart starts to ache. He's mentioned it before, just once, and he brushed over it then, too. He said Trigon made everyone do it but you feel like maybe there might be a part of that where it doesn't matter. He was terrified enough to transform into a snake so it must have been crushing. And from your own experience, it's always at least a little scary having someone you're supposed to trust come at you.

"You brush it off." You say quietly. "You don't have to. Not with me."

Gar's eyes go soft, holding sadness. He always feels like he can't talk about it. Everyone is just...okay. Jason and Dick were the ones possessed. Rachel ended up losing her parents, and killing her own dad even though he was a demon. No one really understands what it was like looking up and seeing his friends try to kill him. They weren't themselves but it was their faces and it was their bodies.

"It was just pretty scary, ya know?" Gar says, his eyes dodging your.

"Yeah, I bet." You nod with understanding.

"I don't." Gar shakes his head, brows raising as he tries to find words. "I don't wanna be mad about it because I know it wasn't them but..."

"It was them. In a way?" You ask.

"Yeah." Gar exhales sharply. "And everyone got to move on, ya know? It hurt, a lot." Gar nods his head, pain in his voice. "But, what was I supposed to do? After Rachel killed Trigon, we piled into the jeep for a road trip. Jason and Dick were always there. I didn't..." Gar pauses, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. "I didn't have any time to be away from them."

"It's okay." You assure him, scooting closer to him. "Like, to be upset about it. You should have had some time to recover."

"I don't have anywhere else to go." Gar's voice is so small and your heart breaks for him.

"Do you wanna leave?" You ask.

Gar shakes his head quickly. "No, no, of course not. I do really like it here and Jason's my best friend and I like Dick, too. But, I wish I had somewhere I could go to get away for a few days, sometimes." Gar bites the inside of his bottom lip.

"It's not the same or anything, but...you can escape in here if you want. It's still the tower and they'll always be around, but maybe it'll help."

Gar pulls a tiny, sad smile to his lips. "Thank you, Y/n."

"We can make a 'keep out' sign. Only tigers allowed." You nudge him, pulling a teasing smile to your face.

Gar rolls his eyes but the smile grows. "We can see how long it'll take Jason to break down the door." Gar chuckles.

"Oh, I would give it about ten minutes. You put a keep-out sign on something and I think he'll take it as a welcome sign." You laugh. "But, really, I'll fight any of 'em that wanna bug you when you're in here."

"I don't know if you stand much of a chance." Gar chuckles, glancing between your hands and your eyes.

"For you, I do." You hold your head up high and Gar's stomach twists, chest exploding with warmth. "So," You start. "I go to you when I have a nightmare and don't wanna be alone and you can come in here when you wanna be alone. I'll even leave you alone if you want. I can just put in earbuds or something, I don't mind."

Gar shakes his head. "You don't have to. I like talking to you." Gar gives you a sweet smile. "It's different with you since you weren't there almost beating me to death." Gar lets out a dry chuckle.

"A fair point." You match the chuckle. "Well, just let me know."

Gar wonders how you do it. How you have room for him in yourself. Yeah, last night you went rogue and emotions took over every part of your actions and you have nightmares at least a few days a week. You’re not okay, not by a long shot. But, you’re really good at either hiding it or seeming like you’re fine most of the time. And Gar wants to know how you manage it and why.

For him, it's like he can't because he doesn't have anywhere else to go or anyone to talk to. Rachel is too close to Dick to talk about it and she hates Jason anyway. Talking to Rachel about it isn't going to make him feel any better. He has to fake just being okay with it, a clean slate and all that shit. He has no choice. And he's always the caregiver. The one who's always asking everyone else if they're okay because checking in on other people means he doesn't have to check in with himself, dealing with all the emotional baggage that slouches his shoulders. But, he wonders so much how you can do it with everything that you’ve been through because Gar knows even he'd never be able to pull himself out of bed if that happened to him. And he knows he wouldn't have enough room in himself to help other people. But why do you do it? It's not like anyone would judge you if you sat in your room for a week and just cried, grieved for everything you’ve lost and everything that's happened. But you don't.

Every day, you get up and do your chores, get ready for the day with what seems to be, ease. You train just as hard as they do, Gar even swears you train as hard as Jason which is something insane to watch. You don't have to do any of it and you do. And you make jokes, smartass jokes but jokes nonetheless and you hang out with the group whenever everyone is together. Despite everything, you pull yourself together and Gar doesn't understand how or why you’re able to do it. He admires it but he's also equally worried that you'll snap one day. It'll drag you down so far you won't be able to come back from it. It's all gotta hit at some point and he hopes you know he'll always be there, despite what he's dealing with.

"Thank you." Gar nods at you before reaching over and pulling you into a hug.

You hug him back instantly. Physical touch has never been your strong suit. Hugging, holding hands, just a comforting hand on a shoulder. It's never been your thing. It's not that you mind it all too much, but you reaching out to someone always feels too much. It makes everything feel real and when someone needs one of those things, feeling real makes it all a little too scary and a little too painful, even for you. But, then there’s Gar and Jason who make acts of physical touch seem effortless. It feels okay to be a little too exposed and let the pain hurt when it’s with them because it won’t last forever. There’s something comforting in it, with them.

"Sorry." Gar pulls away.

"Don't apologize." You shake your head. "I like when you hug me." Your words are nonchalant. "I've never been much of a hugger but with you, it's nice." Your smile goes shy, cheeks burning.

Gar's chest blooms with confidence. "Oh, okay, that's...that's great then." He nods a few times as if trying not to be too excited about it and you think he's adorable.

"Well, should we actually watch the movie now?" You laugh softly.

"Yeah, yeah, start it over! I haven't watched it in a while."

"Shocking considering your love for both classic and, apparently, dinosaurs."

"Dinosaurs are cool!" Gar defends.

"Triceratops are my favorite." You gain this teasing grin as you face the TV and Gar shakes his head, feeling comfortable with you.

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[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.

~~~~~

[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 👀👀👀

[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