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attichaos · 2 years

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P.1 Common Herbs A-Z

This is A-C of some common herbs and their uses

*longer read*

Acorn

Good luck

Protection

Wisdom

Personal power

A dried acorn is an excellent natural amulet for keeping a youthful appearance.

Allspice

Money

Luck

Healing

Obtaining treasure

Provides added determination and energy to any spells and charms. Burn crushed allspice to attract luck and money. Use in herbal baths for healing.

Almond

Wisdom

Money

Fruitfulness

Prosperity

Invokes the healing energy of the deities. Provides magickal help for overcoming dependencies & addiction. Associated with Candlemas and Beltane. Carry, wear, or use as incense to attract abundance.

Aloe

Protection

Luck

Place on the grave of a loved one to promote peaceful energy. Thought to relieve loneliness and assist with success. Hang in the home to attract luck and protection for those who live there. Grow in the home to provide protection from household accidents. Burn on the night of a full moon to bring a new lover by the new moon.

Apple

Love

Garden Magick

Immortality

Friendship

Healing

Place seven apple seeds in a bag with Orris Root to attract sexual love. Use in rituals to give honor to gods and goddesses of fertility. Considered the food of the dead, which is why Samhain is called the 'Feast of Apples'. Symbolizes the soul and is burned at Samhain in honor of those who will be reborn in the spring. When doing a house blessing, cut an apple in half -- eat half and put the other half outside of the home as an offering.

Apricot

Love

Add leaves and flowers to love sachets or carry apricot pits to attract love.

Banana

Fertility

Potency

Prosperity

Basil

Love

Exorcism

Wealth

Sympathy

Protection

Dispels confusion, fears & weakness. Drives off hostile spirits. Associated with Candlemas. Carry to move forward in a positive manner despite perilous danger. Strewn on floors to provide protection from evil. Sprinkle an infusion of basil outside of the building where you hope to be employed for luck in a job interview or in your business to attract money and success. Wear or carry to aid in attracting money and prosperity.

Bay leaf

Protection

Good fortune

Success

Purification

Strength

Healing

Psychic powers

Write wishes on the leaves and then burn the leaves to make the wishes come true. Place under the pillow (or use in dream pillow) to induce prophetic dreams. Place in the corner of each room in the house to protect all that dwell there. Carry bay leaf to protect yourself against black magick.

Black pepper

Banishing negativity

Exorcism

Protection from evil

Blackberry

Healing

Protection

Money

Sacred to Brighid. Leaves and berries said to attract wealth and healing.

Bluebell

Luck

Truth

Friendship

Incorporate into rituals of death & dying to comfort those left behind and ease their sorrow.

Blueberry

Protection

Though not recommended, blueberry is said to cause confusion & strife when tossed in the doorway or path of an enemy.

Burdock

Used for cleansing magick when feeling highly negative about oneself or others. Use in protection incenses and spells. Rinse with a decoction of burdock to remove negative feelings about yourself or others.

Cabbage

Fertility

Profit

Good luck

Lunar magick

Money magick

Cactus

Chastity

Banishing

Protection.

Bury with other banishing symbols for protection. Grow in the home or garden to prevent unwanted intrusions. Place in all directions of the home (north, south, east, and west) for full protection.

Cardamom

Lust

Love

Fidelity

Carrot

Lust

Fidelity

Cashew

Money

Celery

Mental powers

Psychic powers

Lust

Fertility

Male potency

Chamomile

Love

Healing

Reducing stress.

Add to a sachet or spell to increase the chances of its success. Sprinkle an infusion of chamomile around the house to remove hexes, curses and spells. Burn or add to prosperity bags to increase money. Burn as incense for de-stressing, meditation, and restful sleep. Wash hands in an infusion of chamomile for luck before gambling or playing cards. Use in bath magick to attract love. Keep a packet of the herb with lottery tickets for luck.

Cherry

Love

Divination

Gaiety

Happiness

Chestnut

Love

Chilli Pepper

Fidelity

Love

Hex breaking

Scatter powder around the house to break hexes and spells against you. Use in love charms & spells.

Chives

Protection

Weight loss *weight loss spells can be dangerous*

Cinnamon

Spirituality

Success

Healing

Protection

Power

Love

Luck

Strength

Prosperity

Burn as an incense or use in a sachet to raise spiritual and protective vibrations, draw money, and stimulate psychic powers. A popular herb for use in charms to draw money & prosperity. Wear in an amulet to bring passion.

Citronella

Draws friends to the home, customers to the business. Promotes eloquence, persuasiveness, and prosperity. Protects and cleanses the aura. Encourages self-expression and creativity (great for writers & actors!) and brings clarity to the mind. Repels insects and deodorizes

Clove

Exorcism

Love

Money

Protection

Coconut

Chastity

Protection

Purification

Coffee

Helps to dispel nightmares and negative thoughts and to overcome internal blockages. Provides peace of mind and grounding.

Coriander

Love

Health

Immortality

Protection.

Tie fresh coriander with a ribbon and hang in the home to bring peace & protection. Add to love charms and spells to bring romance or use in ritual work to ease the pain of a broken love affair. Promotes peace among those who are unable to get along. Throw the seeds in lieu of rice during Handfastings and other rituals of union. Use the seeds in love sachets and spells. Add powdered seeds to wine for an effective lust potion. Wear or carry the seeds to ward off disease and migraines.

Cucumber

Chastity

Fertility

Healing

Cumin

Fidelity

Protection

Exorcism.

The seed is said to prevent the theft of any object which contains it. Burn with frankincense for protection. Scatter on the floor alone or with salt to drive out evil. Use in love spells to promote fidelity. Steep in wine to make love potions.

Curry

Protection

Burn curry powder to keep evil forces away.

And as always, merry meet <3

Atti

(photo - attichaos)

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ohnococo · 3 months

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Fight Night | CHAPTER 4 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.” Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

Two months after you last closed the door on your "situation" with Sukuna, he sends you a message.

Notes: There's a tone shift here, and some development of reader i.e. explicitly stated hobbies.

Warnings: Oral sex (giving and receiving), deep throating, fingering, vaginal sex, manhandling, rough sex, ruined orgasm, creampie

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

You hated how much you’d dreamt of him texting you again. It felt pathetic, dreaming of a text. At least in your other dreams about him you’d suddenly find yourself in the middle of a club, dancing, his hands hot on your body, stirring you up even though in reality you were very much alone under your covers. But just a text would have you waking up with an uneasy churn in your stomach.

Just like the one you have now, but that second of wondering if it was actually happening is overtaken by the excitement that yes, it was. You even do a double take, thinking you might have imagined what was on the notification that had popped up, brightening your screen and presenting you with that little “👹👑” that had last left you giddy two months ago.

Then, you open your phone and actually read the message.

You free right now?

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his usual lack of formality. No hey, no how are you, no long time no see, just asking if you were free. It annoyed you even further that he couldn’t throw a little sugar on his first contact after months. You roll your eyes again as you begin typing your response, trying to stomp down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach despite him being straight to the point as always.

I thought you had to keep clean for 6 months?

When he’d told you that you took it as him saying that, at best, you two wouldn’t see each other until after his next fight, after all the random drug tests were out of the way and he was able to party with you like before. It was either that or what you’d come to accept was the far more likely scenario, which was him forgetting about you in that time, having found a new woman to party with the exact same way he’d found you. Here he was though, 4 months out from his next fight and texting you. Responding within a minute as well, to your shock as your phone lights up again just seconds after you’d locked it.

are you coming not?

You imagine the annoyed sigh that had preceded his message and smile as another one comes immediately. This time, it’s an address.

As you look it up you’re surprised to find it’s not some club, it’s a neighbourhood. A nice one. An area filled with giant gated houses, spanish style architecture with just a splash of McMansion flair, and uncomfortably uniform topiaries. Maybe it was a house party. Maybe it was a party at his house.

Another message comes through.

im free after 2

You’re more confused than before. 2? In the afternoon? You can’t even wrap your head around what kind of pre-gaming Sukuna had in mind to be meeting up so early, but you weren’t exactly going to say no. You never did when it came to him, especially not when you’d gone without as long as you’d gone with.

see you then

When you step out of your Uber you find that the house is just as big as you’d expected. He’d spent enough on your nights out for you to know by now that he had money to burn, but as you make your way up to the door in your heels you can’t help but think about how your own place could fit in the driveway alone.

Once you get to the front door you take a peek through the large accent windows on either side, seeing how spacious the house was just from the little view you could get. Then you ring the doorbell, tucking your small clutch under your arm to tug your dress down your legs a little as you wait for an answer.

The door opens and you’re unsurprised that the person answering is Uraume, though they do seem very surprised to see you.

“Why are you here?”

You’d learned not to take their brusqueness personally during the encounters you’d had with them since the first one. You’d figured that shared trait was why they got along with Sukuna so well.

“Sukuna said to come over after 2.”

Their eyes narrow. “And he asked you to come here?”

Heavy steps approach from the large, brightly lit hall just visible from where you were waiting at the door. Uraume stops, looking back as Sukuna appears. You’re surprised to see him out of his usual clubbing attire, no slacks, no expensive leather shoes, no button up straining over his musculature, not even a flashy chain around his neck or watch somehow large enough to be ostentatious on even his frame. Instead he’s in tight boxer briefs and nothing else, with a towel over his shoulder to catch the drips coming off of his wet hair.

“What’s the problem, Uraume?”

“I didn’t know you were expecting someone.” Any trace of shock or confusion that had been on Uraume’s face isn’t present in their voice as they speak to him, but apparently Sukuna senses it nonetheless.

“Do I need to tell you about every single person I bring into my own home?”

“Of course not.” Uraume steps back and opens the door wider, giving you space to enter. They close the door behind you and turn to Sukuna, giving a deep nod that borders on bowing before leaving towards what you presumed was the kitchen due to the distant sound of an extractor fan.

“Thank you, Uraume.” There’s annoyance there, but it’s a thanks nonetheless.

Sukuna looks you up and down, and somehow his expressionless appraisal is more intimidating despite having dealt with it several times before. You don’t want to hear it, not when you were still trying to figure out what exactly was going on tonight.

He can’t be stopped though, “I can always count on you to get all dressed up for me.”

Then, he’s tilting his head towards the hallway he’d previously emerged from, gesturing for you to follow as he walks off before you can respond, forcing you to catch up with his long stride in your heels. As you walk just behind him you glance into the rooms as you pass, finding them either blindingly bright due to the floor to ceiling windows, or incredibly dark with only the sunlight from the skylights above the hall illuminating them.

You’re half expecting him to take you to some room with a built in bar and all his entourage pre-gaming. Or pre- pre- gaming at this hour, maybe, but when you finish the walk through his halls and reach your destination you find that it’s just his bedroom. To your surprise, this room falls into the category of “blindingly bright” and the high ceilings and cold tile floors would leave it feeling sterile if it weren’t for the things filling it. Dark wood furniture, warm toned bedding, and monstrous looking masks above his bed not dissimilar to the little emoji you had in your phone representing him.

As he disappears into his walk-in closet for a moment you think you know what he’s getting at now, a party before the party, and you’re a little embarrassed at how your body is already responding to the thought of it.

Then… you’re just confused again as he re-emerges fully dressed in grey sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt - attire very much the opposite of what you were in. He says nothing, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you expectantly.

You swallow thickly, looking at him, “Well…”

Something about standing in front of him while he just stares silently has you suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting dropped off at a rich man’s house in the middle of the day, in tight clothes and makeup meant for dim lighting no less. On your nights out you could fool yourself into thinking you were on equal footing - or at least that there wasn’t such a gulf between the two of you as you blended seamlessly into his entourage. Here though, with just the two of you and no distractions, you feel very small in his big, big house. You feel small in front of him.

“Well?” He parrots you, undoubtedly taunting you with that glint in his eye. Your annoyance at that tone and at how it makes your pussy respond pushes you to finally form your confusion into words.

“So what are we doing then?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid, like he hasn’t been vague as hell like he always was, expecting you to be able to read his moves as he makes them. “Hanging out.”

“Hanging out?”

He raises his brows and tilts his head like it’s obvious, like he shouldn’t have to repeat himself.

“Just me… and you… and Uraume?”

A dismissive hand waves in the air, “Uraume is just finishing my meal prep, then they’re leaving.”

“Are we going out tonight?”

“I’ve got training at 5 tomorrow, and when I’m clean I’m clean.”

You cross your arms, scoffing at your inability to get an actual answer out of the man and getting a little sick of it. When your little display of petulance draws a chuckle from him you click your heel against the tiled floor, hoping it would distract from whatever tell you might have that his laugh alone was already turning you to putty in his hands.

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

But… you don’t really feel like drinking if he isn’t. So you slip off your heels, deciding that you weren’t going to be uncomfortable in them at least, toss your small clutch onto his bed, and sit down next to him.

“Meal prep, training at the crack of dawn, not even one little drink… you’re really serious about this whole fighting thing, I guess.”

He looks irritated for a moment, but amused nonetheless. “I have been the reigning champion for 6 years, you know.”

You lean back onto your elbows, crossing your legs and looking up at him, trying your best not to give away that you already knew that.

“And 3 years before that at my last organisation.”

You knew that too, and that he’d been banned from there for fighting dirty. You knew a lot more about him since you’d last seen him, having watched what clips of his fights you could find. He was impressive, worthy of being as cocky as he was, worthy of all the starry eyed reactions he’d get on your nights out.

“That’s cool.” His brow raises and you go on, feeling the need to assure him that you weren’t being sarcastic with him for once, “it’s nice to have something you’re passionate about.”

His expression goes blank, and you’re beginning to realise when he’s indifferent and when he’s trying to look indifferent - that subtle distinction between him peering into you and looking through you.

“What are you passionate about?” You think he might be genuinely interested. “Other than getting fucked up.” You think he’s pretending he isn’t.

“Um…” you have a brief moment of suddenly remembering nothing you’ve ever done or liked just because you’ve been asked, and the smallest twitch of a smile forms at the corners of his lips before he seems to decide to throw you a bone, just this once.

“What are your hobbies?”

Your mind is still drawing a blank, but you’re more able to continue, feeling like talking about what you like feels a little easier than explaining something you were as passionate about as 6 Year Reigning Champion Ryomen ‘The King’ Sukuna was about fighting. “I like reading, playing video games… uh…”

It’s weird having a conversation with him. Not that you hadn’t before, but they were always dripping with innuendo, banter dipped in tension and implication acting to fill the gaps between drinks and drugs and fucking. Conversations containing questions like ’What do you do for work?’ followed up with ‘you don’t have some sugar daddy waiting for you to come pay him a visit tonight, right?’

Now there’s another kind of tension here, one that Sukuna cuts with his usual playful bite, “So you’re a bookworm and a nerd?”

Sitting back up, you open your mouth, ready to lash an equally sharp remark back to him, but he’s stopping you in your tracks with his next words.

“Cute.”

He’s said it before, several times, but it always had that curt tone in it, clearly broadcasting that it was meant as his own special word for you in lieu of calling you a brat. Because that’s always when you’d earned the name, when you were being a brat. This time you don’t feel like there’s anything behind it, and it might just be exactly what it was: Sukuna thinking that you’re cute.

Even considering that that might be the case makes a little bit of warmth blossom in your chest, then lower down when one corner of his mouth lifts just so and it looks like he knows exactly what it’s done to you. That’s his only tell, as he moves on quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his heavy hand on your hip.

“What kind of games?”

Now the blood that had rushed downward makes its way to your face as you shrug, “I dunno…”

“You don’t know what games you play?” His brows raise in a way that telegraphs he’s warning you not to lie to him, the thought of what the punishment might be for such a trespass has your mind racing.

You feel an odd pang of guilt in your chest though, for thinking of what he could do to your body when he seemed to be looking for an actual conversation, but then you’re second guessing even that. So you decide to just take it as what it is, a question, and answer it.

“I like Animal Crossing.”

“The children’s game?”

The bite is back as you roll your eyes at him, “It’s not just for kids.”

He smiles and squeezes lightly at your hip, then pulls you close, so your sides are pressed together and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. It makes you pause, makes you have to tell yourself not to be obvious in the way you cross your legs a little tighter. He doesn’t miss a thing, though.

“Well what’s this Animal Crossing about, then?”

“You’re a villager-“

“Like a peasant?”

“No, like… a little guy. Or girl, or whatever, and you move onto an island with a bunch of animals that live there too.”

His smile widens as his brows raise higher, “And that’s not just a children’s game?”

“It’s not just that, you basically build up a little town, planting trees, building things, decorating the place.” You pause, waiting for another remark from Sukuna, but find he’s just listening, waiting for you to continue. So you do, “You can even do things like fishing or catching bugs, it’s-“

He dips his head down and his lips brush yours, pressing for just a moment before he’s pulling back and speaking low. His nose is still pressed to yours, and hearing his voice at a near-whisper for the first time has your panties wetter than ever. “It sounds surprisingly peaceful.”

“I like a little peace and quiet sometimes.”

“Not when you’re out with me.”

You look into his eyes, and notice what an interesting shade they are, warm and deep and as intense as he was. It makes you realise that you’d never seen them without being overtaken by dilated pupils.

“Well… that’s you.”

The small ’Hm’ he lets out is dipped in something you can’t quite decipher yet, but it doesn’t really matter as his tongue parts your lips, giving you the kiss you’d come to crave. He lays you back, arm still underneath you, and you wrap your arms around him as he scoots you further up his bed bit by bit until your head is resting just below his pillows.

Whether the conversation before was genuine or simply pretence doesn’t matter now as he slips his muscled thigh between your legs, giving you an encouraging hum when you grind on it. Your hands are quick to find their way into his hair, then work their way down his back and up his sides. He feels so familiar yet different as the resumed training has made his body harder than before. When your hands finally make their way down to where his clothed cock rests heavy against your hip, you find a wet patch at the tip to match the one you were undoubtedly leaving on his thigh. His tongue is strong against yours, lips demanding as they lead until you’re moaning into his mouth, ready for him to do more than have you humping at his leg.

Sensing that, he pulls back, moving to lay beside you, hand on your jaw keeping you in place so he can look down at you as he speaks.

“Still scared to suck my cock?”

Here it finally was, that moment when he brings it up when you’re not too worn out to do something about that unstoppable smugness. You push him onto his back. Or, rather, you try to, finding him an unmovable object as your strength means nothing to him. He chuckles, and slides off of the bed to stand next to it.

“Here,” he slides his hands under your arms, pulling you until you’re lying on your stomach, elbows perched on the edge of the bed and peering up at him standing over you, “let me help you out.”

He hooks his thumb in the waistband of both his sweatpants and underwear, tugging them down enough to have his cock out and hanging, too heavy to stand fully on its own despite its hardness. He pumps it a few times, squeezing up slowly until a new bead of precum forms at the tip, and when you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out to catch it as it drips down, he gives you that wicked smile you know so well.

“You’ll have to get it nice and wet if you expect it to fit in your throat.”

“Obviously.” That was the closest he’d get right now to an admission of you being intimidated by his size, he already wasn’t letting you forget those words that first night you’d met.

He’s right though, so you lean forward and swirl your tongue around the thick head, wrapping your lips around for just a moment before shifting to latch onto the side of his shaft. He holds it steady by the base, watching you intently as you suck and kiss your way down, letting the spit gathered in your mouth cover it as you go, and giving him the smallest hint of what he wanted. As you lick your way back up to the tip you look up at him and he bares his teeth, eyes sparkling as you finally take it in your mouth again and slowly sink down.

Just as the head hits your throat, you pull back, eyes still on his, before going back down slowly. You bob your head up and down like this a few times, coating his cock more and more until spit is dripping down your chin and into the floor below.

Then, he pulls his cock away from your mouth and flips you flat onto your back, this time with your head hanging over the edge. You open wide, tongue out, and grab onto his hips as he wipes the head of his cock across your lips before pushing in. He pauses for a second when he’s about to enter your throat, releasing his grip on his cock now that he’s firmly anchored inside of your mouth, and pulls his shirt up and over his head, throwing it onto the ground behind him.

You wonder why he’d even put it on in the first place, then you wonder nothing at all as he starts pushing his way into your throat and you have no choice but to put your full focus on the challenge before you. He only goes so far before he’s pulling back until you’re tightening your lips over the head of his cock in a kind of kiss - catching your breath for just a moment before he’s parting them to push his way back in. He repeats this motion, pushing in a bit further each time, until he’s pressing his way all the way in until your nose is nuzzled into his heavy balls.

He stays there, low grown bubbling out from his throat, and your own throat starts to clench around the length inside of it. It’s not long before you’re squeezing at his hips and bringing your knees up. He pulls out then, and you only have a second to sputter and cough before he’s bending down and kissing you hard, tongue feeling much less invasive now that he’s had his monster of a cock in there.

When his lips part from yours, the smile he gives you makes your pussy flutter, “See, I knew you could take it.”

It feels like a compliment as much as it feels like a warning.

Then, he’s standing up, and sliding his cock right back into your mouth and down your throat in one quick thrust. As he fucks into your mouth you find that your throat, and lungs are indeed more accommodating than you had thought. The throbbing soreness of having something so thick so deep isn’t so bad, and you time your breaths perfectly before your air is cut off briefly from the intrusion. Eventually he stays deeper and deeper each time he pulls back until he’s barely leaving your throat before he’s filling it again.

His thrusts are slow and relaxed while he leans down and runs his hands over your body. He gropes at your tits, squeezes at your stomach, then settles a hand over your pussy. He presses firmly, moving his hand side to side as he enjoys the wetness already there.

“Tell me, are you this wet just from a few kisses, or from finally getting a taste of my cock?”

You wait for him to pull back and let you speak, or sputter, or even moan as he continues palming at you pussy. Instead he hooks a thumb into your panties, pulling them to the side and sliding two fingers into you while thrusting harder into your throat.

“Got nothing to say for yourself?”

In lieu of an opportunity to speak, you swallow around his girth, tightening your throat enough to have him hissing through clenched teeth. A laugh follows that has your pussy clenching, and the sudden knowledge that even that had your body needy for him pushes the sound from a chuckle to a pleased growl.

“That’s fine, just let this do the talking.”

He fucks his fingers into you fast, stirring you up so well you lose your focus on breathing when you get the rare opportunity. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, eyes rolling back, grip on Sukuna’s hips loosening, until he suddenly pulls back and returns to those much more shallow thrusts where he’s only barely entering your throat.

You think it’s a merciful break, until you realise he’s pulling his fingers out of you and repositioning himself to hunch down over you on the bed. He slides his arms under your thighs, before hooking his hand back in your panties and settling his face between your legs, cock back to bullying it’s way as deep as it can go in your throat while still letting him keep his mouth on you.

His tongue is big, lathing over your pussy in long firm strokes, dipping inside you just to feel you clench before he pulls it back out and presses the flat of it over your bundle of nerves. When he wraps his lips around it he sucks hard, pulling back with a wet pop and leaving you yelping around his length as the intensity borders on painful. Then, just as quickly as he’d done it, he’s rubbing it better with his tongue, warm and soft and working you towards your orgasm.

He keeps your panties firmly out of the way with his index, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you to give you something to clench around as sucks and licks your pussy until it’s drooling for him. You can’t even tell whether the wetness dripping down your ass is from you or his mouth as he growls into it, seemingly driven back to that savage state he’d fucked you in once before just by the taste of you. It’s sending you flying to the edge, whole body tensing, not sure if you’re breathing and not sure if you really need to as he fucks your throat, and the final push comes suddenly as you start clenching around his fingers.

All at once, it’s ripped away from you and you’re tightening on nothing. The cold air is jarring as he sits up, mouth and fingers abandoning your pussy, cock vacating your throat, and you outright scream in frustration at having your orgasm ruined. He pulls you up, tossing you back into your earlier position with your head on his pillows before he’s flipping you on your front and pulling you onto your knees.

“Fuck, I was cumming!”

“Too bad,” he lines himself up with your pussy, “I need to fuck you.”

His words ring loudly in your ears and your head spins as you realise this is the first time the two of you will have fucked completely sober, though you hardly felt sober with the way he’d toyed with your pussy like that.

As he presses in, much more slowly than you were anticipating, he groans and throws his head back, hands rubbing over your ass.

“So tight… no one’s fucked you right since me, hm?”

You don’t intend to answer that. It wasn’t any of his business what you did, and didn’t do, in the time he’d left you hanging.

Sukuna won’t be ignored though, ending his slow push forward by shoving the last few inches of his fat cock into you hard and fast enough for a little skin on skin slap to ring out just as you yelp.

“You haven’t been fucked stupid like that again, have you?”

“N-no.” It’s hard to keep your composure when you’re being split open for the first time in months.

He pulls out to the tip, and you brace yourself for another punishing thrust, but instead he’s back to pressing in slowly. He leans down over you, tracing his tongue up your back as he continues fucking you deep, pausing every so often to kiss and nip at your skin until you’re arching your back, rocking back into him.

“There you go,” he squeezes your hips, picking up the speed just a little, “a pussy like this needs to be fucked often, doesn’t it?”

You nod, moaning as your orgasm is already inching closer thanks to his cock dragging deliciously along your walls.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you around then, it would be a shame to waste it.”

He’s stirring you up so well you can only think to agree. Of course you needed his cock, of course it would be a waste, and how gracious of him to sort you out like this. Like his cock was a favour. Like he hadn’t said just minutes ago that he was the one that needed it. Not wanted it, needed it.

Your head is spinning, stomach clenching as he begins to fuck you like he was making up for wasted time. It’s hard enough that you’re unable to stay upright, slumping forward as your arms give out on you. It doesn’t slow Sukuna down in the least, as he pulls you back into his thrusts quickly, fingers pressing into the very spots your body knew his bruises belonged. He leans up and into you, shoving your body forward enough that you throw a hand up to brace yourself from being pushed into the headboard as he leans his full weight onto you, reaching beneath you to swipe at your clit roughly.

He’s shoving you towards that edge again, making you whine and moan for him as you have no choice but to cum fast and cum hard, something he does right along with you as he’s snapping his hips against yours and filling you with wave after wave of hot cum.

You collapse fully beneath him, pussy still twitching every so often with the aftermath of your orgasm, Sukuna acting as a far too heavy weighted blanket on top of you while he gets his breathing under control after an orgasm that seemed to rip through him as hard as it had you. He seems to finally hear your struggle below as he sits up and pulls out, letting you take full breaths now with his weight off of you.

He tugs his sweatpants back up and lies down on his side next to you, pushing your hair out of your face to make sure you were at least conscious before letting out a small huff of a chuckle.

“I thought you had passed out for a second there.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” The bite isn’t really there as your voice cracks and you lick your lips, mouth dry from how you’d been panting so hard.

Another chuckle and he’s rolling you onto your back and pulling you into him, sliding his fingers into your pussy and smirking as he feels your walls still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He leaves his fingers settled in there, playing idly in your warmth as you lie there under his smug gaze.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, and deciding he looks content in this silence you just let the moment hang. Then, as your heart steadies and your body stops buzzing with the soft afterglow, you find yourself clear headed for the first time since you’d gotten that text from Sukuna earlier this day.

“Fuck!” You push yourself up onto your elbows, trying to reach for where you’d tossed your small clutch on his bed but being stopped by his heavy arm across your body, fingers hooked securely inside of you.

Once you start to shove at his arm he sighs, sliding his fingers out of you to grab the small leather purse and tossing it onto your stomach. He seems entirely uninterested in whatever you were on about as he settles back down on the bed and slides his fingers back inside of you.

“I completely forgot I had actual plans tonight.” You’re annoyed at yourself for just forgetting everything the second you’d gotten one text from Sukuna.

You’re annoyed at yourself even more for admitting in front of him that you’d bailed on these plans without a word the second he came calling, catching the way his fingers stop stirring inside you for just a moment before they’re back to their lazy movements.

He doesn’t seem interested in teasing you for it at least, letting out a contented sigh as you dig your phone out from where it was squeezed into your clutch, taking up all the space in there save for a small slot for your lip gloss. He watches through half-closed eyelids as you type your message of apology to your friend. You don’t bother explaining yourself, knowing they’d probably text you something back about getting your back blown out and you didn’t need his head getting bigger about any of this. When he sees your messages he locks onto his name in your phone again before you lock it and start to put it back in your bag.

“Put my name in your phone.”

“What?” You look up at him, surprised he still cared about that. He doesn’t look mad, or annoyed even, not like he had the first time he’d seen it. Whatever is in his expression isn’t fully clear to you, though it doesn’t feel entirely unlike when you’ve disappointed a parent.

“Put my name in your phone. Properly.”

You watch him carefully as you pull your phone from where it was half-stuffed in your bag, and do just that. Looking down at the screen to type out ‘Ryomen Sukuna’.

“There.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, rubbing your wetness and his lingering cum through your folds, then patting your pussy lightly. Then, he pats it again, this time firmly enough to make you jump. “Good girl.”

CHAPTER 5

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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billthedrake · 5 months

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This story inspired by the classic writings of @macstevens.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

"You feeling nervous, Dad?" I asked as we walked back into our hotel room. We'd taken a walk around and had scoped out a lot of the other men we'd be seeing tomorrow.

Dad was surprisingly earnest as he thought over for a second. "I should be telling you I'm not," he replied. "I guess I get a little too caught up in the competitive thing."

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't," I assured him. "Trust me, you're gonna kill it tomorrow."

I could read all the doubts in my father's head. In 2018 he'd come here and had fallen short of placing. The pandemic came, and that meant time away from the gym. More than that there was Dad's self-imposed backaway from bodybuilding. "It's just not worth it," he'd said. "The time, the dieting, making yourself into some muscle bimbo," he said.

Until it was worth it. About a year and a half ago, Dad started getting that itch again. It took even more work this time, as he was in his mid-50s now, which meant would be competing in the Master's 50+ division

Now, Dad was probably in his best form of his life. Growing up, he'd always seemed just big - tall, beefy, ex-jock kind of body. Around the time of my parents' divorce, he'd gotten into better shape. My his mid 40s, that fitness kick got channeled into serious lifting. No two ways about it, my cop dad was a beast now.

And he was pulling off his XXL t-shirt, showing me all the ripped muscle he'd been bulking and fine tuning the last year. Dad tossed the shirt aside and turned to me. "Guess it's time for you to work your magic, Drew."

"Jesus, fuck," I gasped. It wasn't from surprise, since I was well familiar with my dad's body. But it never failed to take my breath away. He was hard, vascular, and covered with a pelt of silvery hair.

Dad chuckled. "I know you like the fur, buddy."

I gulped. Something had changed the last couple of years where the salt and pepper in Dad's chest hair was getting closer to full-on silver. "Yeah, I do," I admitted. "But you gotta show off your work, Dad."

"Yeah," he said, and started taking off his shorts. "You get everything ready."

I'd learned the hard way to put down newspaper on the bathroom floor. Dad's really fucking hair. I pulled out the supplies from my backpack - clippers, shave gels, a couple of additional razor cartridges, some aloe moisturizer. I used to wax Dad down, but we both enjoyed the slower, more intimate ritual of the shaving. And this way, his hair would grow back sooner, which was a plus for us.

"I'm afraid I'm giving you a lot of work," he chuckled as he stepped into the small space of the hotel bathroom. Dad was fully naked and his cock was already firming up into a healthy-sized hardon. We'd gotten beyond the awkwardness of this process and now got turned on by it.

I realized I was fully hard in my basketball shorts and I was glad I decided to freeball it, because otherwise my erection would feel uncomfortably constrained. I stripped off my shirt and affectionately patted his back, taking some time to feel the competition-ready muscle. "Jesus, Dad... being away at college... it's incredible to see you now."

That made my father smile. But he didn't say anything more. It was time for the shavedown.

I started the clippers and sheared off big swipes of that thick fur, watching the silvery curls fall down to the floor, some catching on his hair below. I then worked the clipped on the other side, from his lower abdomen to the base of his giant pecs. His cock jerked as I did and I could see the hunger in his eyes.

I pulled back the clippers and kissed him. Tongue and all, we make out, and I felt his prick nudge against the hard ridge in my shorts. I was actually a couple inches taller than Dad, a classic basketball jock build, and times like this, I loved the similarity and yet contrast between our bodies.

Dad was thinking something similar, too, and as I pulled back he growled. "I swear each time I see ya, you're bigger, boy."

I flexed for him some and laughed. In high school, I'd been on the leaner side, and even now my muscle looked less imposing because of my height. But I'd been working a lot with the team's strength coach and my effort had paid off. I placed the clippers back on him, focusing on the round swell of his chest muscle. "I got a bodybuilding Dad I gotta keep up with," I said.

It was Dad's turn to flex, making his knotted arms almost balloon in size. "I couldn't have gotten here without you, buddy," my father said, a twinkle in his handsome brown eyes that seemed lighter in color now that his hair was graying.

"Lift your arm," I instructed. This was the one part where the hair seemed less thick as Dad got older, but his pit was still well-furred. Dad's hair just had a way of growing in fast and thick.

It was going now, as I buzzed the clipper along the growth, shearing it down to a quarter inch.

Then I did the other arm pit.

My father's back isn't that hairy but I zapped away a couple of patches, along his lower back and along his upper traps. The forearms needed touching up to.

Dad reached down and gripped my boner, massaging it through the nylon of my shorts. It felt tantalizing, but we both kept the libido in check for now. Still, I pulled back with a huge wet spot at the tip of my cock. Dad used to tease me for my lack of patience in the bedroom, but now I knew how to be a good boy.

I squatted down and trimmed the legs, front and back. Then the hard cannonball ass that had been the first thing that required Dad to size up his police uniform.

This whole process took a while, about five to ten minutes for the initial trim. Now I turned off the clippers and set them aside. I wiped down the legs with a wet washcloth and put a good amount of shaving gel in my palm. This was the laborious part, but Dad would have a fresh, close shave for competition tomorrow.

It was quiet and sexual, Dad's prick dripping that slick clear fluid as I ran the razor over the quads, revealing hard muscle more fully. His dieting and diuretics meant every vein popped on the surface of his leg. I finished and wiped him down, admiring my handiwork. I took a strange pride in this, not only my skill in shaving Dad down but also an embrace of my kink. It was like each swipe of the razor blade was an act of power, of taking away Dad's masculinity, and yet giving him an even more amazing masculine form.

I started on the other leg. We broke the spell of silence some by talking about the likely competition he'd have tomorrow. Soon, I was wiping down the smooth muscle and rinsing off the blade in the sink.

I took my time with his calved and powerful hamstrings. Dad's hardon flagged. Mine didn't. I remembered when my father's ass has a little of that meaty give to it. The first time I'd touched his bare buns, or eaten him out, of fucked him. Now it was hard steeliness in my hands as I ran the razor over it, clearing a path in the foamy gel to reveal the smooth hard skin beneath. I don't know what it was, but there was something about a 55 year old's skin that was distinctive from a younger man's, even in Dad's competition ready muscle physique. Maybe because of his muscle physique.

"Want me to get in there?" I asked, my voice hoarse in excitement.

"Might as well," Dad said. And like that, he was leaning over and bracing his arms on the shower-tub rim, spreading his legs for me.

The first time Dad showed his hole to me, I had a premature ejaculation, I was so turned on. Those days were past me, but my heart always pounded double time to see this sight.

"I love you, Dad," I hissed. I had meant to save that kind of talk for later in the weekend. Or at least for a more appropriately intimate moment. But it just came out.

"Love ya too, Drew," he replied.

I could tell he was holding himself dead steady. This part involved more delicate razor work. I spread his crack further open with my fingers and flicked away the hairs around his pucker. My father's ring had seen more use lately. It wasn't a puffy, slutty hole or anything, but he'd gotten fucked more regularly, even with my absence at school.

"There," I announced, splashing some water on the pucker and wiping it down.

Dad leaned up and turned around. His prick was throbbing again. "You're the best, son," he said, reaching down to ruffle my hair.

I laughed. "Dad, you know how much this drive me crazy." I was already taking the shaving gel and smearing it around his lower abdomen. Dad trained natural and competed in a natural tournament. It put a cap to his size but also meant his belly was normal and relatively flat for a man his age.

He looked down with a look that had a good deal of pride mixed in with the lust. "I've been too scared to ask, but you having fun in college?"

I knew what he was getting at. I kept my attention on the shaving process but as I rinsed of the blade, I answered him. "Not really. Playing ball and keeping up my GPA keeps me pretty focused, you know?"

I knew he liked my answer but he nodded. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you found someone, you know." I think he half believed it. Trying to be the good parent.

I stood up. I was SO hard now. I knew I was tempting myself, but I pulled the waist band over my cock and slid my shorts down. Dad's eyes widened. "He'd probably have to be a cop," I said. "You and Rick spoiled me."

Dad chuckled. "I can't tell if you're kidding sometimes."

I raised my eyebrow. "I'm not kidding," I said. I pumped some more gel into my hand. The can was running low now, and I'd have to start on the second. I smeared it over his hard round pecs. I wetted down a new blade and brought it up. "I've been thinking a lot actually... I don't know, I'm seriously thinking about going into law enforcement."

"Drew," Dad objected, but he didn't complete his thought.

I shaved the chest in slow, broad swaths. It was beautiful to see Dad's new body emerge before my eyes. "Basketball's great, but I know I'm not NBA material," I explained. I gave a wry smile as I quickly glanced from his chest to his face. "And the pension's good, right?"

He laughed. "Pretty good," he replied. "But it's better in a city." Dad was police chief in a small town force.

"Then you get big city problems," I countered. I now ran the razor gingerly around dad's thick brownish nipple. "But you know what I'm thinking, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just promise me you're not gonna rush into that decision lightly. I want you to think practically before you commit to anything."

"I will, Dad," I said. Feeling chastised some, but he was right. I had a way of letting my cock do the thinking for me. I leaned in as I flicked the razor along his upper chest, next to the neck. Our cocks touched, wet and leaking.

"Fuck!" Dad gasped.

"I didn't nick you, did I?" I asked, concerned. I'd been more prone to that when we started this, but I'd gotten better and a lot more careful.

"No," he responded. "But please tell me we're gonna make up for lost time this weekend, son."

"We're gonna make up for lost time, Dad," I breathed. Then setting down the razor, I kissed him once more. This once feel deeper and more powerful.

"Damn, buddy," my father said as we broke off. "You've gotten even better at that."

I grinned. "Finish you up?" I asked. "We're almost done."

He nodded and lifted his right arm to let me get the trimmed hairs beneath, then the other. Up close, my father's hard muscled body now seemed bigger and heavier. We were both tall and our combined sized made the bathroom quarters seem particularly close.

"Maybe you can trim the crotch tomorrow. Figure out how much you wanna do." Dad said as I shaved his arms smooth. I could never decide what I thought about a shaved crotch. I used to hate it, but now there was a kinkiness in seeing his mature muscled cop body shaved completely smooth. Dad mostly like not worrying the posing trunks area and was glad for me to go as tight a shave as I wanted.

"Yep," I said.

Finally Dad started up the shower and we both got in. I loved sudsing up his shaved-down body and making out with him. We'd barely stepped out and dried off when we heard a knock.

"What fucking timing," I heard Dad say as he turned his upper body some.

I patted his smooth rump and picked up my shorts to slide them back on. I was achingly hard in them, obscenely so, but I had a good idea who was at the door.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Rick Caldwell grinned as I opened the door. He was fifteen years younger than Dad and six inches shorter. He was pretty much the textbook example of meathead cop, having been lifting and competing since he was 18. He stood now in full uniform, the bulletproof vest beneath his poly-blue shirt making his chest look that much more expansive, and his huge guns straining the sleeves.

"Dude, it's your room, too," I laughed.

Rick stepped in and set down his bag. He had a big grin on his closely shaved face. "Been too long, kid," he smiled as he stepped up for a kiss. I used to joke that Rick was Dad's boyfriend, but it seemed more and more like he was mine. I groped his hard body and felt him up beneath the uniform.

"Bout damn time, Caldwell," Dad joked as he stepped in to see us making out.

Rick pulled back. "Hiya Chief. Hit some traffic after my shift." He looked up my father up and down. "Your boy does good work."

"He does," Dad said as he stepped up, pulling his hand on my bare shoulder. "Takes his time."

Rick smiked. "I bet." Then, "You guys see all the beef parading around? Lots of law enforcement, too. I figured Junior here's gotta be pretty worked up," he winked at me. I didn't share a first name with my father but that didn't stop Rick from using that as a nickname.

"Understatement," I said. While Rick always encouraged my horndog side, I didn't always like to scope out other guys around Dad. But it was impossible to hide it on occasions like this .

Dad didn't seem to mind now. His fingers playfully dug into my delt muscle. "Drew here's thinking about signing up for the Academy after college." There was some pride in his voice, even tough I knew my father was stubborn enough to try to talk me out of the idea a few times over the upcoming year.

"Yeah?" Rick asked, turning to look at my own smirk. "You'll make a good officer, Junior," he said. Already he was crouching down in front of me and working my shorts.

I almost objected and I knew my body stiffened defensively. Dad and I had just had the most exquisite 40 minutes of foreplay and I worried now that all my patience would be squandered in a half minute's time.

"It's OK, buddy," Dad whispered hoarsely, pullling my upper body tighter against his nakedness. "Let him."

I gapsed as Rick sank his mouth over my precum-wet boner.

"Holy fuck," I gasped, looking down at him, beginning to blow me in full uniform. Big muscle head cop going down on me. Rick was skilled, but more than that he just loved doing it.

It was the two personalities of the men in my life. Dad always telling me to take it slow, to be patient. Training me almost. Rick indulging me and encouraging me to be as horny as any 20 year old would. Rick knew I had several loads in me in a given night. Why wait for the first?

I now rode the pleasure that Rick's bobbing mouth and throat were now giving me. Dad's eyes were cast down too, watching my thick son dick and his reporting officer's talented mouth quickly milking me.

"You're beautiful to watch, son," my father now whispered in my ear. Just us, something Rick probably couldn't hear. That excited me. "And Rick's right, buddy. You'd make a great officer."

I turned and like magic our mouths met. Tongues connecting a second before I started cumming. I shot hard and heavy into Rick Caldwell's craw. He not only swallowed greedily but kept working me to get the dribbles out of me.

"Goddamn," I muttered when Dad finally pulled back.

"Need a minute?" Dad asked. I knew his need was getting more urgent. And Rick had now turned his attention to my father, his chief. Licking along the thick tool that matched mine.

"Yeah," I replied. "Just a sec." I knew I should cool off completely, but I couldn't keep my eyes off these two men.

Rick sucked some more then went back to teasing mode. I don't know why he was doing this to Dad while he went right to sucking me off. But it was hot to watch. Rick finally turned to me. "You up for shaving me down in a bit, Junior?" He ran his hands openly along my father's smooth abdomen. "Get me competition ready?"

"God, yes," I said.

Dad chuckled. "Drives my boy crazy, doesn't it?" he said, looking at me.

I blushed. I don't know why I was embarrassed of the fact but I was.

Rick grinned, seeming to enjoy seeing my shy side. "Junior's gonna be SO worked up after tomorrow afternoon, he might even let us fuck him." Since going to college, I'd gotten into more of a top kick with these guys. Rick and I liked to have playful arguments about that, but he'd just shake his head and said it was a phase for me, that I just needed to prove something.

Rick never felt like he had anything to prove, at least in bed, and Dad was increasingly very open and flexible.

"How long has it been, Junior?" Rick teased, standing up and undoing his utility belt. "You let any of those college coaches sweet talk their way into your hot jock hole?"

Dad laughed. He was enjoying this. "Drew's been a monk up at school," he chimed in. "So he says."

Rick's blue eyes lit up as he pulled up one uniform shoe to a nearby chair to take off, then the other. "Is that right? Well, it's a whole weekend of bodybuilding, buddy," he said to me. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna get laid." It wasn't clear from his words whether he meant just him and Dad, or some other guy. Maybe for Dad's sake he kept it ambiguous, though I knew Rick liked to fool around and encouraged me to get my rocks off when I could.

"Come on, Rick," Dad complained. "Don't corrupt the poor boy."

Rick smirked. "Junior doesn't need me to do any corrupting. I've never met a dude so wired for big muscle."

Dad gave an exasperated smile. He knew his fellow cop was right. Fer christsake, I'd first come out to Dad when he discovered cum-crusted bodybuilding mags in my bedroom. He now turned to me and I could see a lot of emotion in his face, with the lust that had been building. "I know I keep a short leash on ya, Drew. But you're 20 now... you're your own man."

I didn't know if I was gonna take advantage of Dad's implicit offer. Or if I'd even have a chance to. Rick Caldwell had some wild talk sometimes, but the reality didn't always live up to it. I felt strangely touched by the idea of Dad letting me go off for some fun here.

I turned to Rick, "Why don't you get on the bed?" I asked, almost ordered. "No... leave the uniform on." His cock was already poking out of his zipper but it had been a while since I'd experienced a uniform scene.

The request made Rick smile. He gave a mock salute, "Aye aye, Junior." I watched as he got on, lying back, his big muscle body making the mattress sink. I had confidence in my father, but he'd have a hard time winning his division. Rick would have no problem winning his.

I climbed on, mounting his reclined, clothed body and meeting him for a kiss. Dad still didn't know what I had in mind but he stroked his cock and stepped closer to the bed. He told me he never thought he had a voyeur side until he first watched me and Rick fuck. I made out with the cop and pawed the muscled body before I pulled back and looked at my father.

"Just take it easy, Dad, OK?" I said. "It's been a year and a half."

"Yep," Dad answered in his deep voice.

"Fuck, Junior," I heard Rick say. I looked back into his handsome mug. He now whispered to me, almost mouthed the word. "He's missed this, you know?"

I felt bad, but any misgiving were pushed aside as I felt my father's strong hands run my hamstrings and over my bare buns. Then I felt a cool drizzle of lube and his warm finger press it into me.

"He's good at this right?" Rick said as he watched me get into my dad's prep work. The man was kneeling beside me and Rick. I'd alternate between kissing the cop and just enjoying the fingering.

Finally, I was mid-kiss when Dad stretched his muscled body on top of mine and guided his prick to my tight ring. He had the force to work me open, but he didn't rush it. Just steady prodding at my defenses, and once he entered me slow mini thrusts to open me up.

This was incredible. Getting fucked by Dad in the first time in a while. Getting past my stubborn top-only phase. And being there with Rick while I did.

Dad's thrusts were getting more vigorous, more athletic. I could feel the smoothness of his torso against my bare back as he fucked. The man had a hell of a lot of power in him, and Rick and I both gazed into each other's eyes in a feedback loop of horniness. Me getting off on him seeing the incestuous mating and him egging me on.

"Hold on a sec," I finally said. Dad's pumping stopped and he held his body still against mine while he softly kissed my neck.

"You OK, son?" he asked. I could tell from his voice he SO wanted to fuck to completion right then.

"Pull back," I instructed. As he did, I pulled back enough to give Rick enough room for what I was gonna ask. "Flip over officer," I urged.

Rick got the message, pulling down his uniform trousers all the way, his belt clinging and his prick jerking hard. But I didn't have long to see it. Already the big man was squirming to maneuver to a face down position.

Dad figured out what I was angling for and already was smearing lube on to my cock, adding some extra.

I was getting impatient now, and I reached down to guide my boner into Rick's muscle ass. He gave a soft grunt as I found and penetrated his cop hole. I should have gone easier, I knew, but Rick sensed my need and wanted this too.

Already my jock body was collapsing onto his meatier one, fucking deeper into his ass while I felt my dad cover tightly from behind, his own cop dick finding my entrance naturally and boring back in easily.

A sandwich threeway fuck isn't easy to get a rhythm on, and ours wasn't perfect. It was our first, in fact. But Dad did the driving, his hips and ass piledriving that meaty cock deep into me, jamming it against my throbbing prostate and pushing me into Rick, too.

I heard Dad's rumble of orgasm first and the idea he was shooting inside me had me nutting too. My body spasmed as I gave it up and simultaneously accepted Dad's load deep inside.

"Nice, Drew," my father whispered and slowly eased his body off mine."

I now worried it all been too hard on Rick, but as I rolled off, I saw him turn on his side, finally unbuttoning his uniform shirt and peeling it off his kevlar. His prick was angry red and it took me a second to realize the tip was wet.

"You fuckers," he laughed. "I don't know the last time I had a load fucked out of me like that."

"As long as I don't have to sleep in the wet spot," Dad deadpanned.

Rick grinned, peeling down his trousers, down those tree trunk legs and kicking them off. "I think Junior usually takes the middle spot," Rick said.

I got up off the bed. I'd gotten off twice now, in the span of twenty minutes, and I now felt more than a little drained. "I'll take it," I said. "Gladly." My dad was circling around the king bed to step up to me. I was used to the way his fur would get wet with sweat during sex but now the dewy perspiration rolled down smooth muscle.

"That was amazing kiddo," he said. "Thank you."

We kissed softly. We got so absorbed in our making out that I didn't feel Rick's presence until he placed a hand on both of our backs.

"I love watching you guys," he said.

I turned and leaned down to kiss Rick now, and Dad then had his turn.

"OK if we take a rain check on the shave down?" Rick asked. "There should be enough time tomorrow right?"

Dad felt up Rick's front. "You just got some stubble," he observed. "Shouldn't take as long for Drew to do his thing."

Dad rinsed off first, and then while Rick hopped in the shower, I applied the aloe to Dad's body. It was sexual and intimate, but the orgasms had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the act in all its sensuality. Dad and were both chubbed by shy of fully erect.

"You're killing it, Chief," Rick said as he towelled off. I still had to pinch myself that I had both these amazing muscle men to play around with. "You're gonna blow 'em away on stage tomorrow."

"We'll see," Dad said, that earlier nervousness and doubt creeping into his voice again.

The younger cop hung his towel on the hook. "You ever think of competing, Junior?" he asked.

"His body's perfect, Caldwell," Dad interjected. My father had an embarrassed look as he turned to me. "You should do what makes you happy, buddy, but I mean... you're fucking perfect." His voice cracked in a serious tone. "And any one of those muscle heads walking around this weekend would be lucky to make it with you."

Rick patted my back and winked in a conspiratorial way. "Chief's a big softie. But he's right. You are looking extra studly these days." He turned to Dad. "They looking for some extra tall recruits at the Academy, Chief?"

Dad grinned and nodded. "If that's what the boy wants to do... I'd say so." My father held my gaze and then winked, patting my on the shoulder before going back into the main part of our room.

Somehow, unbelievably, I had a fully hard cock once more.

"You want another crack at my ass, Junior?" Rick asked quietly.

It was tempting. But I needed a break, and I knew waiting would make it all the better. "Tomorrow, OK?"" I asked.

The big cop reached down and gave my dick a quick tug. "You got it. A celebration after I win, maybe?"

"Definitely," I said. I knew Rick would win, all right.

"All right, Junior, let's get some rest... big day tomorrow."

"Yes, Officer," I said and followed him back into the bedroom.

#drakestories

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spiritually-a-blorb · 8 months

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in light of me being a little silly, a little sillier, and finally reaching my silliest peak, I would like to introduce my favorite cringefail loser and give you headcannons about him

- Lester still had slightly purple veins after the possession. it was barely noticeable, but his blood, and therefore his veins, were a little darker. he just never points this out

- Lester had a little bit of a scuffle trying to get to California in the burning maze, and he literally never told anyone. just as a little silly. this is why he wanted maple lemon cronuts. he got in a fight at some random bakery (beacuse he wanted to get food for everyone) and he managed to snag food for everyone but himself

- Apollo visits Sweet on America, the place Sally used to work, and he'll get different candies his kids like, or he thinks they'll like. he is surprisingly successful at this, and now he keeps candy on his person at all times, like a grandma does

- Lester's complaints about memory loss were valid, for one. but the second thing? just for a lil spice, I think trying to access those memories hurts him just a little, enough for the brain to try and block those memories out. that's why his memory is super faulty. his brain is literally working against him

- Lester is checked over by Meg after every fight they have after The Big Stab™️, and she feels extra guilty when she finds out how tarquin was turning him into a zombie

- Lester was separated from Meg in a crowd once, while they were getting to the Tower of Nero. he flipped his ever-loving shit and proceeded to yell her name so loud he broke a window. Meg never got separated from him again

- Meg will do this thing where she will mispronounce words on purpose beacuse she knows that it annoys Lester. Lester eventually uses those mispronounciations in multiple haikus, and presents them to Meg in a written and stage performance. Meg has never been so annoyed and so touched in her life once she remembers that those were her mispronounciations. she then demands financial compensation for her words being used in said haikus

- Apollo (post ToA) does actually help herophile start some game shows. he gets her a nice setup and everything, and she soon becomes well known for her successful shows, both on normal channels and Hephestus TV.

- Meg eventually goes out and sees the ToA books on some bookstore shelves, and buys the entire series. she gets a lot of secondhand embarrassment due to Lester sometimes, but she enjoys re-living some good memories with her dummy. plus she likes hearing what the Arrow of Dodona actually had to say.

- Conversely, Apollo literally shrivels up in a ball when he finds out that Meg read the entire book series. he just lays there with his hands over his face while his kids swarm Meg to get her to show them the books. Apollo does not want to live through that, but he stays as they read the entire story. they all end up in a massive cuddle pile by the end

- Eventually, Artemis meets Meg. she kinda likes her by the end, but is somewhat jealous of the sibling relationship she has with Apollo. Apollo just likes seeing his two sisters get along. Meg, however, is a little conflicted as well. This is her annoying dummy, and someone else telling Apollo that, even in jest, grates on her a little (unless he deserved it. then she adds on)

- Apollo really likes fries. The big reason is they are cheap, and he would get a meal with the money they had at some gas station or fast food place, and give Meg the meal and just eat (and share) the fries. He did this right up to The Burning Maze, but only beacuse Aloe Vera kinda snitched on him to Grover. Aloe Vera only found out when she saw him climbing back down into the maze to eat the strawberries.

- Meg was super upset when she found out about the fry thing. Apollo insisted he was fine, and that he didn't need as much food as her, since she was still growing. She was a little more mad when she realizes she had been growing food that was meant to help in combat, and Apollo had to double back to get some, or he went hungry.

#toa #lester papadopoulos #pjo apollo #meg mccaffrey #sunflower siblings #just a lil bit

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superhoeva · 4 months

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𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

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⬩ pairing(s) carmen "carmy" berzatto x musician!reader, luca davies-bernardi x musician!reader, sebastian "sebby" garvey (original male character) x musician!reader

⬩ warning(s) language, emotionally toxic relationship, sad girl!reader (but it's okay bc it's gonna get better!), nervous!scattered-brained!carmen, sweet!luca, anxiety, mention of injury (burn), smoking (mentioned), some smut, (bad unsatisfying) penetrative sex (p in v), protected sex, bodily fluids (mentioned), oral (m receiving), delusional bf syndrome, negative feelings during sex

⬩ author's note it's here! it's here! finally had some time to sit down a finish this, and i'm excited!! next chapter will have heavy luca and carmen interaction with reader to make up for seb in this chapter lol. make sure to heed the warnings before you read! hope everyone enjoys <3

⬩ word count 2.4k

Carmen traces the pattern on the stair runner—a deep, wine red with flickers of brown and gold—to steady his breathing as he and Luca follow you up the stairs to the bathroom.

Beets for red.

The three of you together in the small bathroom is a tight fit, but you make it work. Carmen, standing stiff with his back to the sink while you make a b-line for the aloe vera and cotton balls that sit in a nearby cabinet. Luca takes a spot leaning against the doorframe, curious eyes watching you as you move.

With your back turned, you don’t see the two catching eyes. Luca gives Carmen a quick raise of his eyebrows. Carmen responds with a widening of his, and they just barely return to their normal size by the time you turn back around. You set down the contents in your hand–a bottle of aloe vera, a few cotton balls, and a large band-aid the men didn’t notice you grab–onto the counter next to Carmen before holding out a delicate hand.

“May I?”

Carmen stares down at where your palm lays outstretched before him. It takes a long second for him to even think about moving. Another moment ticks by and Carmen finally raises his hand to put in yours. His skin jumps at the feeling, breath coming out shaky.

He thinks you’re going to say something about him. Make a joke about how long he took to give you his hand, but you do no such thing. All you do is give him a small smile and begin your work.

The men let you coat and dab at Carmen’s hand in the quiet. You’re about halfway through when you decide to break the silence.

“So how’d this happen?”

Your question falls soft onto Carmen’s ears. His has to blink a few times, as you’re looking over his hand with such care. The mark is an angry red and stings like a bitch, but your gaze makes it a little easier to bear, which only further ruffles the nerve bumbling around in Carmen’s stomach. The aloe vera does some work, too.

“We, uh, we work in a cellar,” Carmen mumbles back, not really thinking. Both he and Luca see you pause to process the information, then simply nod, accepting it with ease.

Luca almost laughs as he clarifies, “we work in a restaurant that happens to be in a cellar.”

“Ah, okay,” you nod again. “What’s that like?”

“It’s…” Luca trails off, searching for the correct work. “It’s intense.”

A short chuckle from Carmen. His way of adding that’s a understatement. “It’s great, though. We love it,” he finishes for Luca, who nods in agreement.

“That actually sounds really cool,” you admit as you place the band-aid onto Carmen’s skin, and smooth it over. Luca grins a little. Carmen bobs his head, unable to look you in the eye.

“Yeah, yeah, it is. Cool,” Carmen parrots, eyes finding the courage to look into yours. “And, uh, thank you for this. Really, thank you.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe as you gaze back at Carmen. The blues of his iris are something magical and incredible and moving. Your body forces you to swallow before you reply with a kind, “you’re welcome.”

Carmen’s middle jumps at your words. Suddenly, the bathroom is three-sizes smaller than when he’d entered and there’s not enough air for him to function properly. He blinks at you one last time before heading for the door. Luca steps to the side to let Camren through, who remembers to throw you one more thank you before he’s hooking around the bathroom exit and back down the hall.

It’s just you and Luca now. He gives you a sheepish smile, eyes flicking to what you’ve left on the counter. He’s over and clearing the small mess of loose band-aid wrappers and used cotton balls.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” you start, but Luca is dropping the piled waste into the garbage can. “...do that.”

Luca shrugs, brushing off his hands.

“It’s the least I could do. And I know Carm already said it, but thank you for helping him out. That burn would’ve just gotten worse and worse if not for you.”

It’s your turn to shrug.

“It was no trouble,” you promise. “Happy to help.”

Luca smiles at you, again, and fuck if that doesn’t make you feel good. A tick of silence passes, and you can’t think of anything to say.

“Can I walk you back down?”

You warm at the inquiry, nodding at him with a shy smile. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

The two of you trail downstairs in a quiet that doesn’t make your stomach turn, and it’s refreshing. It allows you to breathe and take in the tattoos across Luca arms as the swing just beside yours. They’re similar to the ones you saw dancing across Carmen’s skin. You wonder if they got any of them together.

When you return to the hallway between the kitchen and the main room, Luca’s mouth opens a bit, like he’s looking for something to say. To keep the two of you in the moment, but he’s interrupted.

“Where’d you run off to? Been looking for you.”

It’s Sebastian, striding down the hallway and up to where you and Luca stand. The violinist doesn’t even glance at the man on the other side of you.

“Hey, I was just–”

You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before Seb is speaking again.

“Think I’m ready for that drink now. Just a beer or something, but make sure it’s cold, yeah?”

A nod from you. Luca doesn’t notice when you glance at him as you head back for the kitchen. Sebastian is already looking back at him. The two share a long stare before Luca smiles to himself and leaves Sebastian to follow you into the kitchen.

You startle at the unexpected, “who was that guy?”

Your spin reveals an awaiting Sebastian. He leans against the frame of the entrance, arms crossed and head tilted as he gazes at you. His eyebrows are pinched together in that way that makes you feel on edge. How your father looked at you when you were younger. You have to swallow before answering.

“I don’t know,” you mumble with a shrug. Turning your back on Sebastian, your eyes falls back on the drinks in front of you. Beer. He wanted beer. A cold one. “Just friends of some friends here, I think.”

Sebastian nods slowly. When you spin to hand him the bottle, he’s still looking at you. It’s different than before, though. His eyebrows have smoothened. His shoulders droop a little easier. And there’s something softer in his eyes. Yet the knot on your stomach doesn’t want to go away.

“What?”

Sebastian just grins at you.

.・゜゜・

“Okay, off,” Sebastian groans out, pulling his dick from your face for what feels like the hundredth time. “Shit, off, don’t wanna come yet.”

You wipe away the spit collecting on your chin with the back of your hand, and hold back a huff. Sebastian pants above you, slacks and belt bunched around his ankles. He glances down at you and smiles like he did back in the kitchen. A hand on the back of your head guides you back onto him. You suck and swirl and work with more energy than you thought you were going to be able to muster.

“Fuck, just like that. God, yeah. You love my cock, don’t you, baby? Love it so much, you’ll suck it anywhere. Even in Arya’s basement.”

Sebastian sees you roll your eyes and nearly loses it. At the moment, he’s completely incapable of realizing the action was out of anything but pleasure.

“See, just like I said,” he grins even wider. “You love it.”

Just upstairs are the rest of the guests. They are sprawled out around Arya’s cozily-sized living room. Across the couch, love seats, and even on the floor as they converse over drinks and more drinks.

“So, uh, how do you know each other again?”

Carmen asks, sitting to the left of Luca. On the other side of the older man is a guy named Kaj. His shoulder length hair is tied into a low bun, revealing an aged scar that scratches across his cheek, and a few freckles here and there. The three men are squished on one edge of the brown couch, a little warm from all the bodies in the room.

“Okay, so you remember that little kiosk I told you I worked at when I first moved here? While I was doing nights at the Thai place?”

Carmen nods at Luca.

“I worked there with him,” Kaj continues before plopping the olive from his small glass of vodka in his mouth. As he chews, a giggle leaves him. “And we fucking hated it. Couldn’t stand our boss.”

“That’s actually how we bonded–stealing his cigarettes and smoking them out back when he wasn’t paying attention.”

A huffed laugh leaves Carmen. “Damn. What’d he do to make you hate him so bad?”

Luca and Kaj share a look and a shrug. Finally, Luca sighs. “Was just an asshole. Got off on keeping us late just to do busy work he didn’t feel like doing. Always angry. Got pissy anytime he saw us smiling, just shit like that.”

“Hm,” Carmen thinks, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head. “Yeah, no. No, I’d steal his shit and smoke it, too. Sounds like a dick.”

Kaj smiles in agreement, but it falls when he sees the bandage on Carmen’s hand.

“Shit, what happened to your hand?”

Carmen pauses to follow Kaj’s eyes.

“Oh, uh, i-it’s nothing,” Carmen sniffs, shaking his head. “Burned my hand at work. No biggie. Someone here helped me patch up real quick.”

Something flashes behind Kaj’s eyes. It makes Carmen squirm.

“Ah, so that’s what you were doing with her.”

“With who?”

Carmen’s throat squeezes when he hears Kaj say your name. It's Luca's turn to squirm, but for a different reason.

“Yeah, she put some aloe on it. Got him all fixed up,” Luca glances at Carmen’s burning face, before remembering something. He leans in a little closer to Kaj and lowers his voice. “But hey, what’s the deal with her and that guy?”

Kaj has to think for a moment, then his eyes widen. His face reads amused as he looks at Luca.

“That guy?” He laughs. “You mean Seb? Sebastian Garvey?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Luca shrugs. Is he supposed to know who that is?

Another laugh leaves Kaj.

“They've been together for a while. Long enough to live together. They got a place down the road from here. Met at university. That’s why we’re here tonight, Seb just finished his junior recital. Everyone wanted to celebrate and, even thought she hates him, Arya has the nicest place, so…”

Luca takes in the information slowly. As he thinks to himself, someone taps Kaj on the shoulder, calling away his attention. Carmen still stares at Luca, wondering about the look on his friend’s face.

“What’s up?” Carmen questions. “You good?”

Luca barely nods, sending Carmen a tight smile. “Yeah.”

Carmen doesn’t break his stare from Luca, who’s still deep off in thought. He sniffs.

“It’s getting kinda tight in here. Burn one?”

A few seconds pass before Luca answers. “Sure, yeah. I’ll meet you out there in a second.”

Carmen leaves one last slap on Luca’s shoulder before shuffling his way out of the main room. He blows out a quick breath, and tries to shake out the nerves.

His steps thump against the wooden-floor, echoing all the way down to the basement, where Sebastian sloppily pounds into you from behind.

“Shit, sorry,” he huffs, dick slipping out a thrusting against the cheek of your ass. Again. “Fuck.”

He takes a second to slide back inside you, and returns his hand to your waist. A tumble of moans leaves him as he resumes his thrusting. His hips snap back and forth, and it feels kind of nice at most.

Not great. Not horrible. Just nice. Enough to drag one tiny whimper from you when he just barely brushes against your spot. A rush of frustration soon follows that numbs away any other pleasure that tries to sort its way through your tense body.

A broken moan from Sebastian pulls you back into the present. You push out a wail, hoping it sounds real enough to Seb.

Who are you kidding?

Of course, he’ll think it’s real. It’s not like he’s noticed the fabricated-nature of your sounds of pleasure before.

As you predicted, he doesn’t get close to catching it, too preoccupied with keeping his own moans to a minimal volume. His are real and you think it should make you feel better. It never does.

Sebastian tenses, and you can feel his cum seep into the condom you had to remind him to wear. You try to match what leaves him, forcing out a few more oh fucks with a sprikle of yes. He grinds into you one final time, a hand reaching around to guide your lips to his.

A few quick pecks are pressed into your mouth before he finally pulls back and out of you. Another shudder racks his body and he pulls you back to him.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles with a heavy breath, softening-dick hanging between the two of you. “Fuck, that was great.”

A smile lifts the corner of your lips as you readjust your clothing. One more kiss is pressed against your cheek, Sebastian telling you, “I’ll see you upstairs, okay?”

And with that, he’s gone. Skipping his way up the steps as he zips his pants, and out of your sight. You have to blink. Then blink again. And again.

Your eyes dance around the room, to the trash can a few steps over. At the top of the small pile inside is the used condom. Shriveled and dirtied with Sebastian. Biting your lip, you push away the thought about feeling similar in a way. You crouch and make sure it’s covered by some loose papers and tissue.

Next, you make sure to straighten everything back to how you found it. Both an old habit and out of respect for Arya. You straighten the chair Sebastian had scooted out of the way–for reasons you know nothing about–and the blanket that sits atop it.

One last glance around the room gives you a chance to take a few deep breaths. To steady yourself and squeeze your hands a few times before slowly making your way to the steps.

You freeze at the bottom of the staircase. Grasping the rail for dear life.

#the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #luca x reader #chef luca x reader #carmen berzatto #luca the bear #chef luca #au: rule of three

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numberonetastemakerwhispers · 3 months

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Lustful Desires

Miguel O'hara series...

Pairing: !pornstarmiguel x !smallcampaignreader

TW: NSFW BELOW CUT ✂️

Miguel o'hara. Known for his work and videos online through his years of working as a pornstar. Hes only posted little to few videos, but the outcome of them all were beautiful.

You had found him after scrolling through some videos on your browser, the title reading 'Lust and Fuck'. You pressed it reluctantly, expecting something boring than what the title was. Instead you were greeted with a muscular tanned man. Your eyes following how his muscles flexed, the way his lips curled up as he smirked. Shit he was hot.

And god you swore you almost came at the sight unraveling. (You did) The end where he was grunting loudly as his hips moved sloppily to where he finally came.

Your hands seemingly moving on their own as they dipped down to your panties, rubbing slow circles on your clit, making you shudder. (rewatching the video, hehe)

You watched the rest of his videos, cumming almost twice as much as you usually have in months. All being breath taking and exhausting as your hand cramped from chasing your high each time.

You were also a pornstar, but not on his level. You usually did solo videos, wearing pretty lacy lingerie, indulging yourself with your sways and swoons as you unraveled yourself for the camera. Maybe even fucking yourself silly with whatever toys you had, having you moaning like a slutty bitch. Your neighbors probably have heard.

Although you did solo, you did take some requests on considering to work with others, maybe those who also did solo, or more experience but god you weren't expecting the email you were just about to get sent...

----

Few hours go by as you were getting settled in your bed, getting ready to knock out when your phone suddenly buzzed. You thought it was from one of your managers, maybe even a notifiction from one of those thristy men on your porn site. You were oh, so wrong, looking at your phone as you gasped. Your eyes scanning the name from whom the email was from before opening it. Miguel O'hara.

You thought you must have been dreaming? The one and only? It couldn't have been! But you read the message over and over and that you almost peed your pants! (or maybe you did. jk)

The message was mind blowing to you, but still it was unexpected.

' Subject: Request ...

Hello preciosa, Ive seen your works and I must say you are a sight for sore eyes...

I was wondering if you would love to work with me in one of my own?

Miguel O'Hara.

You squealed as your fingers starting typing faster than your brain could process, having to delete then reform your words as you typed back.

'Subject: yes please!

Ive seen your works as well! I'm quite a fan

... and i would love to work with you. We'll work things out with our managers yea?

Y/N.

You sounded almost too excited. Desperate even. But who wouldnt be? When a well known pornstar like Miguel who blessed with a body of a goddess? You thought you had been blessed by the gods, or cursed even. Since you couldn't sleep a wink after that email.

6:00 AM

Your alarm had went off on your phone. Grumbling and groggy from your restless sleep as you turned it off, wiping your eyes and the puddle of drool that had been growing from your slumber, as you checked your phone. Another email!

You tapped it as you read it over, your body feeling fully awake now at the message.

Subject: Plan

'Alo, carino you sound excited.. tomorrow at 2 pm at ******.'

Miguel O'Hara.

It was short. It spoke truth. it was TOMORROW?! You had thought that a meeting would take a few days even a week but it was happening tomorrow! You felt your cheeks flood with redness as your buried you face in your hands.

What was the theme going to be? Did you have to bring your own clothes of choice? Was the fact meeting him face to face might actually give you a heart attack? Would he even like how you look in person? Would it give him a heart attack?!

Gosh you decided to calm yourself down, seeing how overwhelmed you were getting over a email. You took a deep breath and started typing a reply back.

'Subject: Plan

Im a little excited.. more nervous tho. Ill be there tomorrow!'

Y/N.

You sighed as you hoped the day would go by slowly, letting the time for you to consume your inner thoughts and the need to be settled down. You got up and went on with your day. (with the thought of miguel lingering)

It was almost 10 as you settled in your comforters after a nice long shower, finishing and editing a draft of yourself up to your site as you yawned exhaustly, ready to knock out. The thought of meeting up with him roamed your mind, making you jitter with anticipation and anxiousness. You pushed those thoughts aside, ready to get back to them when you wake up.

You groaned. you couldn't even sleep at all. Only finally falling asleep around 4 in the morning, scrolling through pages and posts to help you fall asleep faster, to no surprise it brought you hell.

It was 10 AM, your meet up was in 4 hours, but you'd be heading there an hour early since the place was pretty far from where you lived.

You called your manager, making sure everything was still in order (it was) as you were up and getting ready. It was scary really, as you did your best to find what would be most appropriate to wear and what wouldn't be.

You decided for a skim black skirt, white sweater with a pink vest over it. Your hair blow, starting your makeup after showering and doing your daily skincare.

You had lipgloss and mascara, a little blush from here to there and that signature mole on your right cheek. You made sure you looked decent as you did last minute sprints of perfume before you trampled out your apartment.

Rushing down your apartment stairs, as you hopped into your Toyota that you had bought off an auction for half the price, starting it up as you finally hit the road, ready for the day to unravel.

You made it, but 30 minutes late. Blaming the traffic that went on your hour early drive over. Always traffic...

You had found yourself talking with your manager along the way, him scolding you back and forth about being late, as you just huffed but apologized. You were lead into a room with lights and cameras scattered around the room, an area in the middle where it must have been where you were going to perform the scene with Miguel. It was all mind blowing, even more when you laid your eyes on him.

He was way more attractive in person, his smile flooding the room. The way his shoulders flexed with every movement, the way he slicked his hair back to not let any piece fall on his forehead. He was a man who would be seen as a piece from a museum you thought to yourself.

You had caught yourself staring that sent you straight back to reality. He was looking straight back at you, with a smirk that was seen clear for days. It had your cheeks flushed and your manager still fussing on how you weren't paying attention to his lecture.

It didn't matter after you and miguel had walked up to eachother greeting eachother and eachothers managers. You smiled sheepishly as he smiled back as well.

"Alo preciosa.." He said, his voice sounded rough and smooth a hint of a grunt being heard.

"Hey.." you said your voice almost a squeak from how shy you were. You earned a chuckled from him as he took your hand in his as he gave it a firm squeeze, placing a kiss on the back of your palm.

"No need to be shy carino, since we're working with eachother today." He reassured, which made not only your heart flutter but your other heart beat with need. (oopsies)

You nodded as you chuckled to yourself, looking up into his coffee brown eyes, his fangs poking out as he smirked at you.

"Okay ill try... but don't be disappointed when I do." You said softly as your managers starting discussing on the scene and prepping the platforms, choice of clothing and need of materials.

It was all so new to you, to be working in an actual studio, and it was a big bump to your campaign seeing as you were only just a small creator. Although you knew this would be a huge raise for not only you, but your campaign as well.

When you were pulled to the dressing room you had seen scatters of different clothing presented before you, making you awe and oh at such selection.

Although it all seemed appropriate for the scene you had to display with Miguel. The scene of which 2 lovers coming out of an argument, which turned to hot angry sex.

Something new to you and a jump to what you expected. Thought of maybe slow sensational romance, him coming home as you both held onto one another but instead happened to be this..

After roaming through your selection of clothing, you decided to go for a simple 'at home' look. Silk shorts that clung onto your thighs nicely, and a matching silk tanktop (sleep wear). You finished by getting prepped and sprayed down after having your makeover, mascara and eye liner, lip gloss and instead of your signature mark they decided for you not to wear it.

You made your way out the changing room as your eyes caught onto the tall burly man who wore a black t-shirt that strained against his chest, making it hard for your gaze to be pulled away. He wore grey sweats, clinging onto his musclar thighs just right, showing the plump of his ass which had you blushing like a fool.

He saw you, maybe even you staring at him in such a way, as he made his way over.

"mi nína... estás preciosa..." (my girl...your beautiful...) He murmured, his gaze traveling down the outfit you wore just for the show, for him specifically. You smiled softly as you didn't understand his spanish, which made it awkward but fun.

"What are you saying?" You giggled, looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours, the feeling of staring into his seemingly felt like you were being lured in.

"nothing to worry about." He smirked as he took your hand in his, his own making yours looked drawf compared to him. You felt jittery and vulnerable, letting him drag you along as you both got on set. You take a deep breath, feeling rather tense. Miguel seemed to noticed as his hand rubbed slow circles on the small of your back.

"shh..No te pongas nervioso, te tengo amor." (dont be nervous, i got you love.) He reassured looking down at you with comfort and ease in his eyes, your body seemed more at ease as you smiled up at him.

Although you didn't know what he was saying but you knew it probably meant something sweet.

"SCENE STARTS IN 3..." The manager yelled from the back, you being in the kitchen as he just got back home from the pub, really to you it seemed like a toxic plot, but with miguel he seemed so sweet and reassuring, that you didn't seem to care for the plot.

"2..1 ACTION!" Your manager yelled as cameras were turned on, lights making sure they luminated the right places, as miguel walked into the door of your home.

"Hola hermosa, ¿qué estás haciendo?" (hey beautiful, what are you doing?") He asked, his arms raveling around your waist, pulling you close as you nudged him aside.

Although you didn't know what he was saying, reading your scripts and having to scan it a million times put ideas in what it might be.

"Don't hey beautiful me." You mumbled, nudging him away as you avoided looking up at him. His eyes were analyzing your reaction and movements.

He scoffed as he shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to approach you once more.

"Hey.. whats the matter with you?" He said, his accent weighing heavy on his words. His eyes demanded to look at yours, as he grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

You furrowed your brows, huffing as you were forced to stare into such dangerous eyes, ones that made you dizzy and undone if stared into too long.

"Let go of me, you reek of alcohol." You said, slapping his hand away as you walked it off. But not without him swooping you against the wall, his gaze was sharp, a low growl heard from him.

"¿Con quién crees que estás hablando? You know better.." (who are you talking to like that?) He said in a firm tone, his face getting closer to yours, the feeling on his breath fanning against your lips.

Your lips quivered, his thumb brushing over them as his gaze dropped to your lips.

"cariño, dime, ¿por qué estás molesta?" (baby, tell me why your upset?) He sighed, letting his grip falter as he pulled you close, hands grazing down your body as he squeezed at the plump of your ass, making you squeak.

You'd almost forgotten that this was all for show, all for a video to publish, as you got lost in the thought of acting appropriately.

"Your always out, i..didn't have the best day today, thinking if I-"

"Took your anger out on me would help?" He finished your sentence, as you nodded sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled you closer, pinning you against the wall as he pressed a kiss on your temple, another to your cheek before whispering against your ear.

"Meaning it would help by getting me all riled up till we ended up hate fucking?.." He chuckled as he lowered his head, pressing kisses on your neck, making you moan out as you nodded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Words hermoso , use your words." He hushed against your neck, biting at the nape softly, leaving a mark as he licked it afterwards, soothing the sting.

"yes.. yes i did.. bu-"

"but what? wanted me to lose my patience with you? wanted me to fuck you mercilessly? till you cant breath, till you cant think straight?" he clicked his tongue again, making you gulp back the guilt.

"Qué desastre para mí, cariño, un pequeño desastre, a slutty whore for me yea?" (such a mess for me baby, a pretty little mess) He chuckled, making your face go red as he picked you up, pressing his lips against yours as you both savored each other. His hands holding you firmly against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist for support as you felt his bulge against your stomach.

You gulped at the size, it felt huge. Girthy even. He noticed by your face, whispering something against your ear, quiet enough for the cameras not to hear.

"Gonna ruin you sweetheart." He whispered. He pressed a kiss on your temple before wrapping his lips around yours, letting his tongue explore. His hands worked on your body, groping the flesh of your hips, traveling up to squeeze and tease at your breast, making your back want to arch off the cold walls.

His weight pinned against you, making no effort of escape possible as you moaned out his name, trying to hide your face into the nape of his neck before one of the managers yelled.

"DONT HIDE YOUR FACE." Your manager yelled leaving you pouting as you brought your face back up. Miguel's eyes gazing into yours as he smirked, before running his hands under your tanktop, flicking and pinching at your breast as you whined against him. The feeling of his hips trying to find relief only adding on to your pleasure.

He peppered you with kisses, biting and sucking marks all over your chest mumbling 'mine' and 'who do you belong to hermoso?' here to there, not that you noticed, already being lost in the feeling of him slow burning your need for him.

He stopped, making you whine as he smirked momentarily.

"Got to fuck you properly." He growled, as he brought you back into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom, as he threw you down onto the bed. Your body plopping into the soft mattress before his weight towered over you.

"shh.. quiet don't want to wake the neighors." He teased, before going back to kissing you until his lips left yours, as they traveled down your body, biting and sucking at at soft flesh. His hands soothed the sting that brought from the bites, the pain only making it better.

He finally slid down your shorts, revealing the heat growing between your legs as he groaned at the sight.

"joder..toda mojada y bonita para mi ... all for me." (fuck... all wet and pretty for me) he growled as he dove right into your wet heat, lapping at the nub of nerves making you quiver, your thighs tightening against his head. His large burly hands wrapping around your thighs, pulling them apart as he started fucking you with his tongue, making you moan like you haven't before.

"M-miguel plea-"

"Shut up.. you wanted me to fuck you right? Fuck you the way I wanted? Then let me do it properly you greedy slut." You whined. His words degrading you making you nod obediently. He then slowly teased the entrance of your cunt, before shoving them right in, curling them right right.

You gasped as he started thrusting them into you roughly, curling his fingers at that one spot that made you come undone. You felt like you saw stars with how far your eyes rolled back.

You panted heavily, you were close. The feeling of him sucking at your clit with his fingers stretching you out was all too much. He must have sensed it, pulling his fingers out your needy cunt, licking one long line against your puffy clit. He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your clit before sitting up.

"Taste so good precioso" He groaned before unbuckling his belt, your eyes wavering over as he patted the spot infront of him, making you get up, crawling over to him.

He pulled his cock out, groaning as he pumped it a few times before instructing you to open your mouth, his tip leaking with precum. He had to be atleast 8 or 9 inches, girth making it seem abnormal from how large it was.

The cameras came closer to the scene as they made sure to catch your face, not missing a single shot of it as he slapped his cock against your tongue, throwing his head back with ease. His hands bunching up your hair into his fist before pushing your head down, not letting you breathe from how far he pushed his cock into your throat. You gagged and drooled, his hips fucking his way into your throat as he cursed at how tight it was.

"Fuck.. baby relax your throat f'me.." He groaned. As you did your best, allowing him to use you as if you were some type of sexy toy, his sex toy. He rutted himself into your throat, loving the way tears trickled down your face, mascara running down your teary eyes as your flushed cheeks brought a primal part of him out.

He pulled out as you gasped for air, his hands manhandling you effortlessly, throwing you onto your stomach as he pushed your back down, your ass up on display for him as he slapped it, leaving a light sting and a imprint of his hand.

"Qué hermosa... eres jodidamente hermosa." (your beauitful, fucking beauitful) He awed at how his hands left beauitful marks on your flesh, before soothing it over with his hand, before placing his hands on your hips, as he alligned himself.

"W-wait miguel let me-"

Before you could even speak he already slammed his hips against yours, shoving all 9 inches of himself into your tight wrath as he let out a breathless curse. Your eyes rolling so far back into your head you couldn't even remember if cameras were still filming or not. Nonetheless if you were even on stage or at home experiencing this.

"What were you saying? Can't hear with you

cryinf and moaning bonito.. All pretty and displayed for my cock." He grinned as he started thrusting into you, slamming into you faster but with long rough deep strokes that hit against your cervix, making you go numb.

Cameras came close, ones filming the way he was fucking you recklessly while other on your fucked out expression. Your makeup all ruined, tears prickling down your eyes at how overwhelmingly good you felt. You moaned like a bitch in heat, the way he groped at your breast, pinching the sore parts of them making you whine and cry out in pleasure as he fucked you mad.

His low grunts and groan, the breathless curses he let out as he slapped your ass, making it all red and achey before you finally felt your climax building, throwing yourself back against him as he growled at the feeling, slapping your ass roughly, pulling mewls and gasps out of you.

"Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock baby?" He cooed, slapping your ass over and over till it was a deep shade of red. His groans growing more desperate as his hips slammed into you sloppily, showing how close he was.

"Cum with me.. cum with me mi precioso" he panted, leaning down to press soft kisses along your spine, as he slammed into you once more, shooting his ropes of cum inside you, fucking it back into you to keep you nice and full. You rode your high, his hips grinding into you slowly helping you out tremendously. As you fell against the bed limp, exhausted and fucked out as he chuckled, pulling out slowly as his cum drooled out your hole, the camera making sure to catch the sight.

He leaned over, pressing kisses on your temple, over your cheeks, and the nape of your neck all the way down your back.

"You alright mi amor?" He asked softly, his voice the sound of gravel and softness as all you did was nod numbly, trying to present a smile.

The scene was done and you both got cleaned up, refreshed and back into your normal clothes. You whined at how sore your cunt felt, maybe he did go a little too rough, not that you cared atleast. You had marks littered all over you, from bitemarks, to hickeys, scattered everywhere making you huff at the sight.

You finally met with eachothers managers, both seeing eachother once more before he brought his hand to hold yours, pressing a kiss to the back on your hand.

"Pleasure working with you hermoso..." He grinned, standing back up at his full height.

"Pleasures all mine, I hope the video came out as you liked." You smiled up at him, the feeling of pride filling your senses.

"Might be my favorite tape..." He chuckled, seeing the way it made you all flustered.

"Here.. before we part ways." He pulled out a piece of paper, placing it in your vest pocket as he gave you a playful wink before waving goodbye, which made you confused, excited, and sad.

As he left you pulled the note out of your vest, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins as you read.

'mi amor ... here is my number .

(***) *** ****, for when you want to talk or work once more. don't be shy to call mi amor.'

Miguel .

Your heart felt as if it pounced out your chest, the feeling of getting his number was all you needed to be able to expect further things in the future. But for what you knew, you were definitely going to leave a little message in his inbox.

* End *

---

(This is my first publish of thought! Sorry if theres any miss spells or grammer issues-- scanned through it so many times and still struggling.

Hope you enjoy!)

#!pornstarmiguelohara #smallcampaignreader #lustful duties #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara #spiderverse smut

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fakesimp · 8 months

Note

Hey! I saw you requests were open so if I may can I request a kinda angst-fluff fic with Ike where reader’s love language is physical touch but Ike’s not very fond if it and what they to to solve it? Thank you sm!

Comfort, With Ike Eveland

Warning !

Hurt/Comfort ; Ike trying to comfort you ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Ike, that isn't fond with Physical touch?? (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) that's just ueue

➶◜◝➴

Numerous times he had flinched away from your touch, that happened often at the beginning of your relationship.

After awhile, you've grown to know that your Beloved Novelist, is not fond of physical touch. It took you awhile to get used to not touch him directly, because sometimes you would accidentally touch him.

You'll whisper an apology when that happened, not realizing the pained look you gave him, making him quite speechless also confused.

. . .

"Älskling!-" He called out to you, he just got home from going out to do some work, "Hm..." He hummed confusedly as he took off his heels. Looking around the house, he couldn't find you.

Until he reached the bedroom, there you are. On the bed, sleeping. He approached you, but his heart immediately tightens when he saw how puffy your eyes are.

You've been, crying? While he's gone?

He clenched his teeth as he stared at your disheveled form, he took a deep breath before calling you in a whisper, "Älskling.." he called out once, twice, thrice. And you slowly opened your eyes.

Your tear stained face pained him so much, you blinked multiple times as you try to clear your vision to look at him.

"...Ike?" Your hoarse voice called his name, his heart stopped beating for a second as he sat by the edge of the bed. Looking at you, "What's wrong..? Did something happened?" He gently asked you as he looked at your face to see discomfort or some sort.

"Ah, No- A,Ahem. Sorry, I was just-" You stopped half way, making him curious. "Just..?" He repeated, you slowly rise up and shook uour head. "It's nothing, just reading some, you know, angst. Haha.."

He is not convinced,

"... I'm sorry."

Is what he said, out of the blue. Making you look at him, confused. "H, huh?" Ike stared down at himself, not looking at you.

He is disappointed, but at what? You wonder, "What, are you, apologizing for?" You asked, carefully. "I noticed that, the past few months you, ..." He paused for a moment, "Whenever you, accidentally bumped into me, you'll apologize." He pointed out.

You went silent as you wait for him to continue, "..The, pained look on your face whenever you apologize is engraved into my mind." He glances at you. "You.." He trailed off, "You've changed " Your eyes widen as he said so.

"I, I've.. Changed?" You repeated, he looked away for a moment before slowly nodding your head. "I'm sorry, for.. not being able to, provide you want you want." He apologized once more, "I, ..I know you love to touch me, your love language is physical touch, but I.." He stopped the moment he heard you sobbing.

"Älskling?" He whip his head towards you, his hand clenched into fists in frustration. Now he knows the reason why you're crying.

He, is the reason.

He, is the reason why you shed those tears.

Those tears are caused by him.

Good God, now he is frustrated, angry, at himself. You looked away from him, trying to calm yourself down. "I'm, .. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.." You said as you wipe your tears away, but they didn't stop flowing. They keep coming out, you took a deep breath and let out a shaky breath. It took you around 5 minutes to calm down, Ike didn't say anything, He couldn't say anything.

He just stayed quiet as he watches you calm yourself down, "..Do, ..you need some time alo-" "No-! Ah-.. N, No.. Don't, it's, ..Fine. Give me a moment." You reached out to the table next to the bed and grabbed some tissues, wiping your tears away.

Ike stared at you for a moment before looking away, "Älskling" he called out to you, "Hm?" You turned to him, blinking confusedly at him. "What?"

"I .. I'm sorry for not being able to return your love properly, ..I may not be a touchy.. person, but please know I always love you."

You blinked at him, "I will always be by your side whenever you need help, so please don't be afraid to ask for my help, I'll help you." He continued, "If you ever need reassurance of my love I will give you my love in my way, and I'll make sure you'll feel loved." You opened your mouth slightly but then closed them again, you smiled gently at him.

"I love you Ike" Is all you can say at him, smiling and letting out a chuckle, the atmosphere around the room slowly lighten up. "...I, Love you too älskling.." He said as he smiled softly at you, "We'll figure this out right?" He nodded at your statement.

"We'll figure this out together, I'll make sure you'll receive enough love from me"

"And I'll make sure you too.."

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

Does this satisfy you -- ue, Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoyed the fic <3

( 4/10 )

#nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #luxiem x reader #luxiem #ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #fakesimp replies

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cloveroctobers · 9 months

Text

LUCA — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: taking a shot writing for Mr. Luca! Love when the bear gives us crumbs and I’m able to create/build more off what was given. Let’s give it up for Mr. Eyebrow king being in lurve 💛 also I promise this is the last time I’ll be using a song from this album but the entire album fits for the bear in my humble opinion, I’m not going to hold you!

WARNINGS: still trying to get a feel for Luca’s character so I hope I wasn’t too far off for him! Feels! A supportive partner! Mentions of mental health & dark thoughts that lead to dark actions—but not overly described but definitely hinted!

Added summer prompts from here & I’m using these two: “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.” + “i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @goodsirs

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Being back in Copenhagen was a whirlwind of emotions but Peyton picked the very best one.

To tell you the truth, Peyton’s been away for about three months, and decided to take the trip back but not alone.

She’s the one leading the way, natural sway in her hips even beneath her cream shacket as she’s all smiles to the familiar workers who seem to be moving at ease. It’s a Sunday, a little after twelve and the restaurant isn’t as busy yet. In her mind, it’s the perfect time to show up, unannounced, although Sydney and Marcus were definitely questioning it.

Carmy doesn’t say much, deciding to take in the architecture of the dark painted walls and the industrial decor instead. He still follows behind as Peyton pushes the back doors open, holding it in place as she waves the three to where the real show is located.

The kitchen is louder and lively compared to the main floor: which is quiet with small chatter, cedar wood infused air, and the gentle splashing from the large stone water fountain, that’s tucked in the back of the main dining floor.

There’s at least six chefs moving around in the kitchen, handling different tasks and talking to each other in calm tones that aren’t as similar back in Chicago. It’s a whole different atmosphere, Carmy thinks and he knows his thoughts are matched as his round eyes peek over at Sydney’s while Marcus sends all split-tooth grins.

It doesn’t take long for Peyton’s eyes to find Luca’s frame, who has his back turned to the four, large hands tending to the dough on the counter that he’s kneading.

“Is that the guy?” Sydney asks, only hearing a few stories from Carmy and occasionally Marcus.

Carmy nods, “yeah, yeah. That’s Luca.”

Peyton continues holding the door for the chefs who start to leave the area, greeting Peyton on their way before she lets the door gently flap behind them after they take their exit. The woman with the hair full of volume takes a stand in between Marcus and Sydney.

“Welcome and welcome back to Brimstone’s Gate.” Peyton introduced the trio who further took in the environment of the kitchen.

Marcus took a deep inhale, “it’s nice to be back…after everything you know?”

A solemn mood is felt after his words.

“I absolutely get that,” Peyton comments as she rests a hand on his shoulder, “just consider this your second home. A place of comfort and to relax your mind.”

Marcus gives a small smile, “thanks, Peyton.”

“Of course.” Peyton moves to face the three again, smile on her glossed lips as she clasps her hands together while she begins walking backwards, “so brimstone’s gate is one of the popular restaurants here in Copenhagen just like the lovely owner and manager of this place that you just met, Ragmus previously said. It’s mainly known for its intricate desserts and quaint and savory cuisine.”

“You’re really selling it, Peyton.” Sydney tells with two thumbs up.

Peyton winks as she points out at the twenty-something year old, “thanks girl, it’s what I do.”

Peyton’s a successful Editorial Food Photographer and it became the best decision she’s made for her career.

“Should we be calling you presenter chef instead?” Carmy teases, “we could have used some of those skills at the bear.”

Peyton laughs as she rolls her thumb over her fingers, “where the money resides, honey.”

“Ah, and here I thought we were friends.” Carmy’s got a crooked smile playing on his lips while Peyton playfully scoffs.

They both know if Peyton was in Chicago on better terms, Peyton would definitely shoot some photos if that’s what Carmy really needed for The Bear. She met Carmy years ago, attending the same restaurant alongside Luca, until she decided creating food wasn’t her passion like her well-known food critic mother wanted it to be. Instead she liked seeing the visuals and telling hundreds of those stories through film.

“That’s a likely story,” she responds as she purposely bumps into Luca who hadn’t noticed they were here, “oh my apologies! Didn’t see you there, Chef.”

Both Marcus and Sydney both squinted and furrowed their brows at each other while Carmy folded his arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

Luca exhales, assuming it to be one of the new clumsy younger chef’s that just started here two weeks ago. He pulls some of the wet dough that sticks to his finger tips and barely glances upwards, a routine of words spewing from his lips, “t’alright chef, let’s just remind ourselves the notices we give out to one another when we cross around, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Peyton says, “Mind telling us what you’re preparing?”

His arched brows immediately furrow before he focuses in on who exactly is speaking to him. There’s surprise written right on his face, brows raising while Peyton is still full of soft smiles that she sends his way. He’s grabbing a rag then, struggling to break his eyes away to see the other three faces.

“Hey man,” Marcus starts which makes a slow grin appear on Luca’s own face.

“Good to see you again, Chef.”

Luca’s eyes trail over the small group, his eyes then settling on Carmy’s who still looks the same as he leans from one foot to the other but he’s full of more tattoos. Which almost makes Luca want to glance down at his own filled arms but he decides against it. He still liked his own artwork better.

“Carmen Berzatto.”

“Luca Hodgson.”

The three are watching the pair as if this is a pickle ball match. Sydney’s holding a breath as Luca makes his way over to Carmy, towering over him and face not revealing any emotion while Marcus is sending glances to Peyton who is behind analyzing Luca’s dish.

Luca says, “Are you still a know it all prick?”

Marcus was not expecting this since it was Carmy who reached out to Luca in the first place for his experience here months ago. He figured they were on good terms if Carmy wanted Marcus to learn from Luca. What changed?

“Well that uh depends, you still a show off, jackass?” Carmy met Luca’s eyes, not backing down in the slightest.

They hold each other’s stares before Luca breaks off into a laugh, followed by Carmy as they briefly embrace, hands clapping each other on the back in greeting.

“Oh, okay then.” Sydney mutters as she gazed over at Marcus who is also confused with a shrug of his shoulders.

Carmy then does the honors of introducing Sydney and Luca, who immediately shakes his hand, despite the sticky and warm residue from the dough.

“Pleasure to meet you, Chef Sydney. You probably can’t say the same now with dough on your hand, I suppose. I’ll grab you a wet nap.” Luca tells as he moves around to grab the said item.

He leans against the opposite counter where he was previously working, now fully wiping his own hands, glancing over at Peyton who’s all up in his dish as he voices, “I wasn’t aware any of you were coming. A heads up would have been cool.”

“So you’re not a fan of surprises, noted.” Marcus says while Luca dips his head about in a sorta motion.

Carmy scratched at his brow then, “We were under the impression that Peyton had it all sorted.”

Luca’s eyes are back on Peyton who’s listening but doesn’t provide anything to the conversation, it’s not like Luca could do anything about it now since they were all here.

“Don’t touch the remonce.”

“It’s not remonce yet,” Peyton looks over her shoulder at Luca who rolls his eyes.

Luca then says, “nice of you to let me know you were bringing guests.”

“They’re not guests, they’re practically family.” Peyton fans her hand about while Luca just lets out a sigh.

Carmy cuts in, “we’re not trying to disrupt the flow you have goin’ on here by any means.”

Luca snorts, “uh huh. It’s slow right now, so you lot are lucky I don’t mind.”

Sydney awkwardly claps her hands together, “great! We’re also really curious to what you’re working on…here at work.”

“Smooth, Syd. Real smooth.” Marcus teases while Sydney tightens her eyes sarcastically.

Luca looks back at his dish where Peyton is ready to show it off, posing in front of it like they were on jeopardy. The man cant help but to shake his head at her antics but announces, “I’m making frøsnapper.”

“It’s a traditional dish here,” Peyton mentions, “frø is a danish word for seed and frog.”

Sydney jokes, “Is it also going to leap off the tray after you take it out of the oven?”

Luca blinks but says with a straight face, “maybe if I throw in a few drops of green food coloring.”

It took a few seconds for Sydney to get the joke back, breathing out some slow laughter, while Marcus shook his head at her and Carmy watched as Luca briefly touched Peyton’s hips to make more space for him to talk about the pastry.

“Yes so, frøsnapper. Also known as for the English, seed snapper or frog snapper. It’s got remonce filling and once it’s done baking, it’s sweet and savory while the texture falls between flaky and delicate.”

“Like a croissant.” Marcus pointed out.

Luca shook his head, “Not quite, Marcus. This is Denmark.”

Marcus paused as he picked up on Luca’s mannerisms, “…fucker.”

Which makes Luca grin again.

“How long is Prep time?” Carmy asks as he makes the first move to get closer, peering at all the ingredients.

“About 12 hours or so.”

Carmy let’s out a low-whistle, “Shit.”

“Shit’s right mate and I started yesterday. It’s a excellent breakfast or pick me up for the afternoon, which is why I planned for it to be done today.” Luca explained.

Peyton speaks up, “and it will be…how long for the oven?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Luca automatically answers as he looks at the clock on the wall behind them all.

“See…Patience.”

“Every second.” Luca moves his winter deep ocean eyes to her ink colored ones, the two holding each other’s stare before he turns back to the rest.

“Any of you have allergic reactions to sesame or poppy seeds?” He asks, watching their facial expressions.

Carmy shrugs while both Marcus and Sydney shake their heads, ‘no.’

“Great, grab some aprons by the door there while I roll out the dough.”

“Oh, we’re doing work too on this vacation. Okay, yeah! I’m down.” Sydney rubs her hands together in excitement as she elbows Carmy lightly, who twists a smile onto his own lips.

Marcus is the first to move while Sydney follows. Carmy stays behind with Luca and Peyton as he picks up on the end of their hushed conversation:

“…I’ll be much better when we have dinner?”

“Cant. Not sure how long I’ll be here tonight, we have a few summer birthday gatherings here later. What about breakfast? It’ll be my day off.”

“Early meeting for me, I’ll be at the office.

“Lunch then?”

“…That works.”

“Finally.” Luca mutters as he takes his time but adds just enough pressure to roll out the dough, which makes Peyton let out a small laugh.

Sydney comes back, handing Carmen a apron who was mostly in a trance watching the dough get flattened that he didn’t bother to interrupt the conversation between old friends. He silently thanks Sydney before securing it around his waist.

Peyton leaves room for Marcus and Sydney to take her spot on the left of Luca, “and this is where I leave you three in good hands.”

“Wait…you’re not gonna get in on this?” Sydney is surprised while a smile is still planted on Peyton’s lips.

She motions to her outfit, “Looking this good? Not today, girl.”

Sydney eyes Peyton’s outfit which consisted of her brown voluminous hair pulled back into a claw clip, a cream opened corduroy shacket and a orange and white floral mini dress, “…fair point. I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could button that thing up and throw a apron on. Doesn’t seem like something you’d want to miss.”

“Your concern is touching, sis. But I actually can’t wait to get home and I’m sure Luca will save me one to try.” Peyton says as Luca is back in his zone now, trimming the edges of the dough and slides off the ingredients of the remonce to Marcus to mix together by hand.

Luca is listening as he replies, “yeah I will, see you at home.”

“See you at home.” Peyton repeats before winking at Sydney who is gapping, Marcus widens his eyes a bit, and Carmy is covering his snickers with a balled up fist.

Sydney turns back to the dish after Peyton leaves and mumbles, “so yeah, next time I’ll shut the fuck up.”

Which earns a laugh from both Luca and Carmy.

“You could have told us, Carmy!” Sydney whisper yells at Carmy who shrugs his shoulders.

Marcus chuckles, “Hey don’t feel bad, Luca didn’t tell me shit either the last time I was here and I’m kinda feeling a way about it now.”

Luca instructs Marcus to spread half of the remonce on one side of the dough then says, “I didn’t think we needed to share love stories just yet, Chef. The love was already there in the pastries.”

“Booo, how corny of you. Where’s the tomatoes?” Marcus snorts which Luca can’t help but to chuckle back.

Luca jokes after he nods his head in approval at the amount of remonce, “Looks like all of us were left out of something, huh?”

“If you don’t mind me asking…how long…?” Sydney starts as Luca takes over after Marcus folded the dough again, slicing it into twelve rectangles before he shows Sydney what to do next.

“What? How long have we been in love and decided to get engaged?”

“This fucking guy, how did you deal with him?” Marcus laughs, asking Carmy.

Carmy says, “we handled our beef outside.”

“What?!” Sydney squawks, “there’s no way you two fought.”

Luca explains, “it happened only once not far from the restaurant we worked at. And I don’t really classify that as much of a fight.”

“A punch to the eye wasn’t good enough for you?” Carmy’s eyes are in slits at this.

Marcus comments, “Damn.”

Luca defends, “A sucker punch isn’t fair. But I got you back, we scrambled a bit and then moved passed it the next day, bruises, cuts and all.”

Marcus concludes, “Sometimes that’s just how it works.”

“It smells like too much testosterone in here for me.” Sydney cuts in.

“Not sugar?” Luca lightly questions as he starts with the egg wash before handing another brush over to Sydney to help finish the rest.

Sydney scowls, “Yeah dude, I don’t know if I like you.”

“Join the club,” Luca winks over at Carmy who rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“Are you serious?” Luca wants to know just what his soon to be wife thought she was doing.

He met up with her, right on time, finding her sitting on the stone wall with what looked like a bright Orange cocktail in a plastic cup decorated with a little umbrella and fruit jammed along the straw.

They’re at the beach, it’s mid seventies, and there’s not many people on the walkway that rests along the sand. Mostly everyone else is taking advantage of the comfortable warmth on the sand. Luca and Peyton weren’t really beach people, preferring a lake and cabin any day but it was Peyton who suggested they meet out here since it was closer to her job.

It was far from their detached home but Luca didn’t mind the drive. He loved sight seeing when he made the time for it and usually when he had the time off, which was rare, he tried to get out there and see the world since there was so much to offer. He also couldn’t wait to be in Peyton’s face again; he wouldn’t count spooning her last night either, considering his face was covered with her bonnet.

Which he missed.

Conversations were meant to be had so that they could continue on with their journey together. She had to step away from their relationship for a few months and Luca was nothing more than understanding…although it stung a bit. He even offered to pick up and go to Chicago with her but Peyton told him life couldn’t be put on pause for her low moments, yet she was appreciative.

She dressed in jeans today as she hops off the wall, a smile in her brown eyes as she holds out her arms innocently, “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.”

She’s mentioning the text message Luca sent to her a few hours ago, after she announced a headache was coming on after her meeting with her pushy manager. He was just checking in as he did a bit of laundry around the house but that didn’t stop his concern at all.

“Give me that,” Luca plucks the drink from her fingertips, fast as he sniffs at it before placing his own lips right on the straw, “hmm and here I was expecting vodka.”

“It’s not that kind of party, baby.” Peyton peers up at him as she locks her arms around his waist.

One hand comes up to palm her cheek, leaving Luca to take his time trailing his eyes all over her beautiful features, “So good to have you back.”

“Kiss me then.”

Luca snorts, “is this you asking for my consent?”

“Sure, uh huh.” She’s almost swooning in his eyes and Luca smirks as he leans closer to her lips.

“Eh, maybe later.”

“You asshole!” Peyton pushes at Luca’s back after he circled around her.

He’s laughing as he tosses a tatted arm over her shoulders, liking the feel of her being tucked right underneath his arm. She doesn’t miss how he’s holding onto her drink now, but she doesn’t mind it as long as she gets to keep him close.

They’re enjoying each other’s company again, almost as if the last three months didn’t happen but they both know it did.

“So…tell it to me straight. You’re back here with me now and I was left in the dark as soon as you were checked in.”

“I wanted to call rather than write you but I never had the words.” Peyton quietly says, “And I know you wouldn’t have minded if I just said a simple hello and we breathed on the phone for twenty minutes or whatever. I just didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

Luca hums, “Guess I can appreciate you taking my feelings into account but I can’t say I wouldn’t have rather talk to you than your mum, no disrespect.”

“Yes I know, she’s a lot.”

“Most families are.”

Peyton lays her head against Luca’s shoulder as they continue walking along the path, “Well you’re my family too and I’m sorry for handing over nothing but white noise to you while I was trying to get a better hold on this.”

It was extremely hard not knowing where exactly Peyton was and dealing with a mother like her’s.

“I don’t want you to apologize for doing what you thought was best for your mental health.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like I was shutting you out…you’re the last person I’d want to ever to do that to. I love you too much, to the point where I realized that I’d always want tomorrow’s with you.”

Luca felt his heart swell at that. It was always a good feeling to know that someone loves you just as much as you loved them. Luca was always known for his banter especially back when he worked at Noma years ago with both Carmy and Peyton but it seemed like Peyton’s energy meshed well with his.

He instantly thought Peyton was attractive and didn’t enjoy how she got on with Carmy equally at the start. Her approach to cooking wasn’t as serious as it was for him and Carmy but she was curious to learning. That’s something that was brought into their soon romantic relationship, they were open to go with the flow and it led them right to Luca putting a ring on it.

Peyton never had regrets about saying yes. She knew what she wanted with Luca and although the black parts of her brain gave her heavy blues, her heart still told her all that she needed to know.

Luca was patient, tender and he was still her man. They wanted forever and had to find balance even when it became shaky at times. They wanted to stick it out, be together and they lost touch once before when Peyton was the first to leave Denmark but somehow they always found their way back.

“I think that counts for a kiss, don’t you?” Luca whispers, stopping right in their path as he stares down at the dark umber skinned beauty.

Peyton almost pounces on her toes, “thank you! As if we haven’t deprived each other enough.”

“Gosh, so needy.” Luca teases, curling a finger underneath her chin to tilt her ready lips to meet his.

They both exhale as their lips touch after being away for quite some time. Her hand is resting against his clothed ribcage and their lips move together in sync as if there isn’t any limit to time. It’s when his tongue traces the outline of her full bottom lip that she pulls away, fanning herself.

“This man is trying to get me to buss it open in public on the beach, Chile. Relax yourself Hodgson, before we catch a charge.”

Luca’s nose crinkles at this as he chuckles, “fine…save it for the indoors, yeah?”

“Maybe even in the backyard?”

Luca raises his arched brows, actually considering it, “Nah, I don’t want to hear you yelling at me for messing up your edges in the grass. Mind you, that you’re probably allergic to.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s messed up Peyton’s edges.

However Peyton always appreciated the concern.

“What about the garden room on the side of the flat?” Luca soon suggested, leaving Peyton to also think about this before she eyed Luca up and down.

It must have still been empty since she left, that area of the home completely slipped her mind when she settled back in, even after leaving Brimstone’s gate yesterday afternoon.

“I think you forget how big you are sometimes.”

A smirk appeared on Luca’s lips then and before he could even open his mouth, Peyton was slapping her hand right over his lips.

“Don’t finish that sentence, there’s kids around.” Peyton warned.

Luca frowned as he muffled, “you started it!”

Peyton smiles at a father who is holding the bars of a tricycle of his toddler, leading them down the path, excusing them as they make their way by. Once they’re out of ear shot, Peyton lowers her hand from Luca’s lips until he pulls the sun glasses from her combed out pin-curled hair to place over his own eyes.

“You’re very handsy today.”

Luca’s arm drapes back over Peyton’s shoulder, pulling her into his side, then he presses a kiss to her temple, “I don’t see you complaining.”

“You’re right.” She pulls her cocktail back to take a sip, “why would I ever?”

“Exactly,” Luca speaks, “…going forward, whatever you need from me, don’t be afraid to let me know please, Mrs. Hodgson.”

Peyton places a kiss to Luca’s pink neck, “thank you baby.”

“Don’t start singing that pasta and lobster song please,” Luca groans after picking up on her tone.

Peyton sends him a look of innocence, “what do you mean? Are we not having that back at the house when the three bears come over?”

“What’d do you mean?”

“There’s no way we’re not inviting Carmy, Marcus, and Sydney over for dinner.”

Luca shrugs, “I didn’t know they were comin’ ‘round anyways.”

“Luca!”

“What? What if I wanted you all to myself first?”

“And you will, they’ll only be here for a week.”

“…A week too long.” Luca mutters making Peyton laugh as she shakes her head, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop it, Luca Lamar Hodgson.”

“No.” Luca chuckles as he points at the beaming woman, “Now you know that is not my middle name, at all.”

What do you have against Lamar’s Luca?

“I’ve talked to Lulu on my way here.”

Luca feels his eye twitch at the mention of his gossiping little sister, Luella. He of course loved her dearly but she could be a brat sometimes and when he misses her call, Peyton was next in line for her dramatics.

“The elevator doesn’t always go upstairs with that one. Especially with whatever she’s gone and said to you.”

“You are on a roll today,” Peyton laughed with her head thrown back, “and you’re not about to do my good sis like that either.”

“She’s my sister first and I know she didn’t say my middle name was that.”

“You don’t know our conversations.”

“Thank heavens for that.”

Peyton paused as she untangled herself from Luca who lifted up her shades to peer at her in question. She held her arms out as she says, “there’s space and opportunity if you wanna fight.”

Luca scans Peyton up and down, taking his time as he did and scoffs, “You don’t scare me, babe. I’ll have you over my shoulder like flour in seconds.”

Peyton cracks her neck and motions her hand, “come on then. Remind me, which one of us was the athlete here?”

Yeah Peyton was deeply invested in tennis once upon a time and originally that’s what Luca thought she wanted to make a profession. She still participated down at the court during the weekends and man was she fast along with those long arms that provided powerful swings. Luca couldn’t see her on the court when it came to tennis, he almost pulled a damn hamstring but he wouldn’t tell any of his mates that.

As for football and cycling…that was a different story.

“That was then and what year are we in now?” He tapped his apple-watch.

Peyton cupped her ear, “Do I hear shade?”

Luca looks around at the sky, “doesn’t appear to be partly cloudy at all. It’s actually very sunny.”

Peyton let out a whole karate sound and tried to strike one, which was humorous but Luca was swift as he easily gripped her thighs and lugged her right up onto his shoulder, holding her in place.

“I told you.” Luca said after awhile, causally walking down the path while Peyton attempted to wiggle around, “let me know when you’re done. I’m just enjoying the view.”

Peyton huffed, “now what if you made me drop my cocktail?”

“I’ve got actual water back in the car, love.”

Peyton mocked Luca who laughed and patted her backside, carrying on in Copenhagen’s sun.

Up in their bedroom, Peyton is lounging on the bed, phone raised up in the air browsing food TikTok’s until she hears Luca letting out a string of curses that sound heavy in his accent from their en suite bathroom.

“Luca, you good?” Peyton calls out to the man, breaking her eyes away from her screen.

“Y-Yup!”

That didn’t sound convincing at all.

So Peyton’s on her feet now, phone tossed to the side of her as she enters the bathroom. She gets a nice view of reddened skin that’s leading from Luca’s neck and down the upper part of his back.

“Ouch.” Peyton remarks, “I did not notice this earlier. I would have sprayed your ass down with my own sunscreen.”

Luca pinched at his skin and flinches a bit, “summer’s aren’t nearly as hot here. I don’t understand why I look like bloody salmon.”

Peyton covers her giggle, knowing why as she stands beside him, after eyeing the change in his skin tone. “I got you, don’t worry.”

There was no doubt in his mind.

Mintues later, Peyton’s retrieved the goo that she had mashed in the container, stored in the back of the fridge, knowing Luca wouldn’t have went searching through there since he tended to eat out at restaurants or order out majority of the time. He had a sweet tooth so she had to be the one to remind him to actually eat full meals instead of desserts from time to time. Which means they’ll have to go grocery shopping at some point, something Luca truly loathes. unbeknownst to him, his mother all the way out in London had grocery deliveries sent to his home, realizing that he didn’t keep his fridge stocked much after Peyton went back to the states.

Peyton first went off to California to visit her father and grandmother in search of different scenery, taking a break from the growing stress but that stress turned into something else. Luca looked back and saw the signs as they laid on the floor together in the dark, with her talking about the end but figured it was just conversation back then. It wasn’t until she went to Chicago to spend time with her controlling mother that she actually tried and it wasn’t just thoughts. Unperceived to Luca and that’s when Luca’s own mother came to be with her son during this difficult time, then he finally got the call that Peyton was being admitted, just to later learn Peyton’s mother called Luca’s first.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little irked that people were going behind his back when it came to Peyton. He should have been there…but he knew he couldn’t blame himself. He thought he was just sending his wife to be off for a simple get away…overall he was happy that she was still here fighting day by day.

He knows it’ll be tough but not everyday will be full of clouds.

“i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.” Peyton says as she’s on Luca’s back, knee’s on either side of him, lathering his back in the cold gel.

Her eyes observe the doodles of ink that decorated his arms and smiles at the sunflower on his shoulder, which he dedicated to her.

Luca exhales at the temperature as he continues resting his cheek against his arm, ready to doze off, “Why’s that?”

“I enjoy taking care of you too, duh.”

“I think you like to touch my body, Mariah Carey.”

“That tooooo-ooh,” she tries to belt out a whistle tone that sounds like a rooster being strangled—“but I also love you.”

“I love you lots too, even when you’re trying to make my eardrums bleed…but don’t ever forget that, yeah?” Luca says over his shoulder as he tries to ignore the sting in his skin but knowing that the comfort is coming from Peyton’s hands, he’ll survive.

Peyton leans forward again to place a kiss to the back of Luca’s head, “I won’t.”

Once enough of Luca’s back in covered in aloe, Peyton leaves to wash her hands and place the gel back into the fridge downstairs. When she comes back into the bedroom, Luca is still in the same position she left him in. Usually her side of the bed is closest to the door, which is something they deeply debated over, she climbs over him to tuck herself underneath his folded arm.

His lips press into her clothed shoulder, his t-shirt, before resting his nose against it later, breathing in her homey scent with his eyes closed. One hand goes to run through his sun lightened hair, further soothing him to sleep as she’s back on her phone now, letting him rest.

No more cold sides of the bed because Peyton was home with her warmth and Luca couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

And the next day after that.

And so on and so forth.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Go back and read my current flop summer prompt here.

Continue along with my anthology summer prompts here.

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season two #the bear season 2 #the bear s2 #the bear luca #Luca the bear #will poulter #luca the bear x reader #Luca the bear x black! reader #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #marcus the bear #summer prompts #queued

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zynxwrite · 1 year

Note

Hi,

Can you right anything to do with Aonung please bc he has my heart in a head lock and I’ve read everything to do with him,

Some ideas that pop into my head is him doing his hair. I know it has nothing to do with the Story line of Avatar twow but imagine him needing to up oils and leave-in conditioners because of the salt in the ocean.

Another idea which has more to do with the plot of the movie is him comforting rather a Sully!reader or a sully (bc idk if you do reader inserts I should’ve looked but I forgot) after Neteyam death at the end of the movie

Have a good -day-night-afternoon

pairings ❰ ao'nung x gn!reader

after going for a swim, you help ao'nung fix his hair after diving into tides <3 [metkayinan reader]

bonus: ao'nung comforting you after your brother's death

[omatikayan reader]

You provided yourself a break by swimming freely in the beautiful water while others were having a fun time learning. You came across a baby ilus playing as you were paddling.

Your body was being swayed by the cold water as soft waves slowly swept you away from the shore's golden sand. You grinned as you observed from a distance as Tsireya led the children of the rainforest into the water.

You could not help but be in awe of the baby ilus as they swam around one another while playing tag. It was Tsireya's beloved brother who swam towards you in a recognizable figure. Sand seemed to have catch his eye.

He seemed that he had been blown away by the water spirit. His expression caused you to give him a smile.

"what happened?" You questioned him with metkayinan hand movements, he rolled his eyes in the water as he replied you back with hand gestures.

"I got pounded by a huge tide" You chuckle as he replied to you, you then raised your head up as a sign to emerge from water and take a break from swimming.

He gave you a nod in agreement and began to ascend from the water with you.

"that's what you get for not listening to me"

You brought him to the village hut after you at last returned to the white sand. Several friends waved to you both as you walked, some of them were giggling while Ao'nung walked furiously.

"have a seat while I grab oil treatment" You pointed at the boulder that was next to the cottage. He just let out an annoying groan and did as you requested.

You begged him to stop behaving childishly as the bottles were now on your hands, but all he did was roll his eyes. He straightened his sand-filled hair as you started moving closer to him.

"Look at your hair, it looks like it's been caught up by a tornado" you joked as he patiently sat while you were fixing his hair with conditioner made from aloe-vera plants.

You stand up and fixed your posture as you returned the ointment back to it's place.

"You really need to stop forcing yourself with these things or whatever you are doing while a high tide is going on" he doesn't say anything as he stands up, walking towards you.

“Ao'nung?” he continues not to say a single word as he kisses you for a second. You didn't complain or anything by the sudden kiss, but you did say something which caused him so grin at you.

"ugh, you big baby what is it now?"

COMFORT?

It was midnight, and your family was all asleep inside the cottage, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat beside your sleeping younger sister.

You hugged your body as you tried to keep your tears quiet in order to not disturb your sleeping family.

You were Neteyam's closest sibling, and you're like a rare valuable memory to him. After your brother's death, your dazzling aura vanished; nothing was the same after the attack.

You glared at your family as you exited the hut and proceeded down the pathway to the beach, seeking to breathe in some fresh air. You were checking your surroundings to see whether anyone was awake. You didn't wish for anyone to see you cry.

What you didn't realize was that Ao'nung was keeping an eye on you from afar, he noticed your change of personality. You were normally a cheerful and lively person, however you weren't and haven't really been for a while after the death of your eldest brother.

he watched as you sat beneath the white sand while you hugged your own body, he understood the feeling you were having. No one is ever okay when a love one has dissapeared.

You wished you were back home, wishing you were in the rainforest. where the trees and plants surrounded you. Where the positive memories were created.

You groaned as you peered blankly into the ocean, wondering if your brother's corpse was safe down there. You attended to his funeral but couldn't look when his body was submerged in water.

Ao'nung was able to approach closer to you, he saw how you were sorrowful, and he was aware of it. He wanted to comfort you, but he doesn't know how.

"uhm… hey?" he murmured as you were startled, gently turning your head to see a familiar face seated next to you.

You knew he didn't actually know how to comfort you, but he wanted to in his eyes. You shifted your head to his shoulder before he could say another word.

"I know you want to comfort me, but thank you for trying." You giggled, He didn't respond but smiled. He grabbed your hand sluggishly as you both listened to the peaceful waves.

#ao'nung #aonung x reader #aonung #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #neteyam #x reader #light angst #fluff #atwow #avatar fanfiction #━ zynxwrite

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gomzwrites · 10 months

Text

I miss you

Summary: Captain John Price has been gone for awhile, and you're starting to miss him. warning: angst(?)but nothing bad happened, mention of the possibility of death

a/n: this is me projecting, I apologize if its messy or all over the place, trying out a new way of writing and expressing feelings :)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You haven’t seen him in months, 8 months and 12 days to be exact.

Usually you can take it pretty well, given the line of work you guys are in, you were well aware about timings and schedules long before both of you started the relationship. The longest both of you refrained from any form of communications was about a year, back when you had to do an undercover mission.

But this time, the feelings were hitting you stronger. Despite the phone calls that John gives you, be it during the evening or somewhere between 2 to 3am, despite the gift he’d mail you every now and then, this time, this time it was different.

You don’t know why either, was it of the uncertainty of this current mission his having? Well technically, you knew the plans and the briefings, plus the details he would share sometimes over those late night-calls.

Then was it because of the way he held you, just before he left.

You’ll pull through John, I know you can. You hug him close as you mutter into his shoulder, closing your eyes as you melt yourself into his embrace. He breathes out a small mumble, something that sounded like "yeah", voice barely audible as his arm that encircles your hips only further coiled, making your chest press onto him. It has been 10, no, maybe 20 minutes since both of you remained in your room like this, at the door. You take in every breath he released, deep and slow, yet something tells you that those breaths are far from calm with how shaky each ends of his breaths are. Tell me you love me. He breaks the silence as you nod and press your lips onto his shoulder, then his collarbone, then his chin, before slowly panting a small kiss on his lips. I love you, John. Your lips curled up as you stare back at him through your lashes, reading his expression as his hands comes up and held your face. His gaze fixated on you, yet with each passing second, his eyes darts left and right in a flickering motion, his eyebrows moved closer, as if he was unsure, uneasy. Or scared. It might seem unnatural to some, given his rank, that fear is something he has, he is the Captain after all, but you've seen him trembling, seen him gasping for air whenever those nightmares haunt him, seen him all shaken up after a particularly hard mission. He is only human, like everyone else after all. You'd be there, always. Be it physically or through a phone. Talking to him, guide him, guide John back to you, well, you try at least. It was, and always will be hard. Of course it is, you know how much weight he carries on those shoulders and you're aware that half the things he tells you barely scratch the surface. You wish you were better at relaying how you feel, how much pain you see him going through, you wish you can tell him that everything will turn out fine, you wish you can use words and put a smile on his face by making a joke, you wish you can be that uplifting friend that always know what to say that makes the misery go away. But you can't. You can only listen, you can only offer hugs, you can only offer advices, some forms of solution, distract him with something random. You're not good with words, the only thing you can be proud of is being a good listener at least. But not everything has to be said, not everything needs a response, because just being there was enough for him. You may not be able to be the sunshine that brings out life and warmth to him, but you can offer a light to him like the moon in the dark lonely night sky.

To stand under the rain with him.

To bask in the darkness and explore it's endless depths with him.

To dwell in the cosmic of uncertainty with him.

To remind him, that he is not traversing the path alone, that you're always with him in his shadows. He needed you, and you needed him.

Maybe that's why you end up here, in front of an old chair. The chair no one dares to sit on it in the common room.

The Captain's chair.

His chair.

Its one of those leather chair, worn out due to frequent use, you can practically spot those indentation in the shape of his thighs on the green seat.

You sat on it, feel the rest of the material and the groove as you lean on to the chair, running your hand along the rubberwood frame idly. There's almost a faint smell of cigars as you close your eyes and sink further into the cushion.

I miss you... You whisper into the air as your thoughts gets clouded by him, you don't know when he'll be back, no, rather...

You don't know if you'll be able to see him again.

This is not the first time you've had these thoughts, with every mission, with every good-bye, its like a gamble with life.

What more can you do than to hope? than to pray that things will go well?

There are things, and signs, that usually ease those nerves sometimes. More phone calls, more updates, to name a few examples.

The one sign that really makes your blood run cold is when he starts bringing up old memories.

Because he never bring those up unless something is wrong, like when death is near him. You'd only learn about it whenever you patched him up or when you lulled him back to bed.

do you remember the time you stole my files from my office? no idea what you're on about, John You wrapped the bandage over his arm as he stared back up to you with a weak smile. He almost didn't make it if you hadn't forcefully removed him off the field and yanked him into the infirmary. oh I know you do, even broke my favourite mug in the process, love. You didn't response, only staring back at him as you rest your head on your arm. I loved that mug I got you a new one, you know? s'pose you did Another silence fills the air as you watch his pupil dilate and get lost in thoughts. It's unsettling for you, because he makes it sound like he's not going to see the mug again. The mug is still there in your office. you reminded him as his eyelids twitched slightly, and slowly glanced back at you as his eye widen, as if you figured what he was thinking, and so he nodded faintly as he brushed your cheek, feeling your skin and warmth radiating from it. To ground himself back to you.

It was one statement. Only one that is probably the cause of your state right now.

I thought about Inky the other day.

Inky, the tuxedo cat you adopted way before you met him, who immediately took a liking on him the moment he stepped into your apartment. He has a picture of it in his pocket. You were jealous of Inky for a period of time because he has it's photo instead of you, but you knew he couldn't have your picture for security purposes.

The last thing he wants is for you to be in danger because of him.

y/n...

You miss his voice too. Like the sea, the never-ending ocean. How it takes control and direct the waves in a storm, strong, unforgiving, as it consumes everything in its path, ships and stones, shutting down any conflict with a single command. How it can be warm and soft, like the waves that splash up gently against the shore that tickles your skin as it come and goes, whispering sweet nothings into your ears because that's how much you meant for him. y/n...

Something feels hot, and its trailing around your cheek, you open your eyes as he comes into view, John, with all his gear on still, kneeling before you with both his hand on yours. John?... You didn't know how broken you sounded, nor did you realize somewhere along the line when you were thinking, that tears has been flowing from your eyes. Im here, love....s'okay, im here now.... He brushed away those tears as he place a kiss on your hand, the smell of gunpowder and soot is evident, but you didn't care. Because he's back with you again, safe and sound. I miss you.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

a/n: you know we have a saying in mandarin, 一日三秋(yi re san qiu), which meant that you miss someone so badly that one day felt like three years(or autumn if based on the letter), and so I decided to try writing out that kind of feeling, I suppose Im projecting because I do have someone I missed as well :>

feedback and reblog are appreciated <3

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Text

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None really, chit-chat between some gal pals, some implied bi/pan reader.

A/N: Never fear, best gal Layla is here! Also the Hippo-Mama!

And I totes recommend reading the Hobby Headcanons that @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction wrote on the boys! I plan on implementing them all! (Also read all their other things, their Nathan Bateman shit is *insert Paccha meme here*) I need to read up on American football because frankly I have no clue how sports worked since I played soccer and baseball as a kid, before I write about Marc's lest I sound like some plebeian who's guessing everything lmao

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 5:

Old Friends

You were minding your own business, cleaning up the mess of tossed books that a couple was oh so kind enough to allow their child to scatter.

You hoped you'd never see them again. While they sat at the nook, sipping coffee and eating the muffins, their child was running around, causing havoc and destroying your beautiful, well-organized shop. Oh, your poor shop…

The couple weren't happy when you charged them for the books their son had ripped up and destroyed beyond salvage, the books he colored in.

Yeah, you really hoped they would never come back.

You looked at your burned hand with a frown. It had been a few days since you hurt yourself, and while painful, the burn wasn't actually that bad. Some aloe, some ice… And it started to clear up after the first day, the blisters receding quickly. You flexed your fingers and tilted your head, curiously wondering if your soulmate could feel the burns, as well. When the thought crossed your mind, you pulled up your sleeve and looked at the mark on your wrist, checking to see which moon would be full today.

The bottom right one. It had been that one a lot, lately.

The bell to the front door dinged, and you straightened up, mentally preparing yourself for the forced smile you were going to have to put on, now.

You cleared your throat and spun around, broom in hand, looking at the woman who just walked in.

She was beautiful. Her tanned skin complimenting her dark eyes and mass of wavy curls. She smiled at you, a bit more genuine.

"Oh! Hello, welcome to Here Today Books." You say politely. "Can I help you?"

"You look like you need it more, sister." She sighed, smiling sympathetically, nodding to the pile of ruined books you now had to put into recycling. Her accent was… it wasn't American, like yours. It sounded similar, but her words had some kind of twinge to them.

"Ah, yeah… a couple and their lovely child were my most recent patrons." You joke dryly.

"Ah, a little tornado, huh?" She snorted, shaking her head.

"Yep. For sure." You sigh, giving her a new, more genuine smile. "Now, were you looking for anything in particular today?"

"Oh, actually, a friend told me about this place, and I was curious." She mused.

That… took you by surprise. People actually talk about your store? Like, as in tell other people about it? This was news, for sure.

"O-oh?" You blink.

"Yeah, he said you made good muffins and tea. I'm more of a coffee fan in the morning, myself, though. Tea is more of a night thing." She chuckled.

You tilt your head at her, gears in your brain whirling.

"Are you friends with Steven Grant, by any chance?" You ask.

She laughs. "Yes! I'm Layla. Layla el Faouly." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and you, without thinking, extend your healing hand.

She shakes it gingerly, her eyes focused on the rosy skin like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"That… looks like it hurt." She said.

"Oh, this? I was just dumb and grabbed a hot pan without thinking." You said, examining your hand casually.

"Oh… Yeah, that's not good for you, y'know?" Layla joked softly.

"Yeah, not the worst pains I've ever had, trust me." You reply. "Now, uh… are you looking for a book? Or after some of the coffee? Or my muffins?"

"Oh! I think I'll just explore a bit, if that's all right with you." Layla said with a nod.

"Oh, I don't mind! If you need anything, just holler!" You wave at her as she disappears into the shelves.

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"You saw it?" Layla muttered softly to herself; or more accurately, to the giant hippo-woman clad in gold and jewels standing next to her, only visible to her eyes.

"Yes, yes I did. Didn't Marc mention that he had phantom pains in that same hand?" Taweret chuckled.

"Yeah. I mean… It could be coincidence, but…"

"You should talk to her. The poor dear looks dreadfully lonely." Taweret sighed, looking even more gargantuan as she peers at the contents of the shelves pressing down around her, her cute little ears flickering back and forth.

She picked up a book on psychology, finding it suddenly terribly interesting, her eyes widening as she scans the pages faster than a human ever could.

"I will. If we're right about our assumption, then, maybe we can… I don't know…"

"Play matchmaker?" Taweret giggles.

Layla softly smiles, not paying attention to the open book in her hands as she chuckles.

"Yeah. We can play matchmaker."

"Oh, let's just see how this plays out first, m'love?" The goddess giggled.

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Layla wanders to the front of the store, two hardback romance novels in her hands and you smile as you restock some old sci-fi novels into your discount rack.

They were the kind of romance novels with the covers reminiscent of oil paintings, the pretty ones. Not the stupid photoshopped ones that are being printed nowadays.

"Find something you like?" You chuckle.

She waves the books with a wide grin, "I've actually been looking for these copies for ages. At one of the places I was working, some jerk stole them from my locker."

"Oh gods, that is horrible!" You gasp. Why would anyone steal books?! At most, those particular novels, even new, only went for a few pounds!

"I know, right! They were autographed and everything!" Layla groaned.

You felt even more offended on her behalf. If those books were autographed and authentic, they would go for actually a decent sum for a collector online...

"That's even worse than just stealing a regular copy!" You clucked.

Layla wiggled the books in her hands. "But, hey! You have hardback copies, and in very good condition. Mine were old, beat up paperbacks!"

"Well, I'm more than happy that you found them!" You grinned widely.

Layla tilted her head to the left slightly, like she had heard something from behind her, and then she looked right at you, eyeing you up and down briefly, as if she were thinking.

You quirked an eyebrow at her in concern.

"Is everything all right?" You ask.

"Hm? Oh! Yes, yes I'm okay! I just have this... thing. The ringing in my ears?" She coughs, abashed.

"Oh! You have tinnitus? I have a booklet or two on medical things that might have something in it for you if you'd like." You chirp helpfully.

Layla put her hand up, chuckling as she declined politely. "Thank you, but no, I'll be okay. It's not constant or anything like that, it's just that I got off a plane the other day and my ears popped and haven't righted themselves yet.."

"Ooooh..." You nod in understanding. "Where'd you fly in from, if you don't mind my asking?"

She smiled. "Cairo."

"That's the accent!" You gasp in realization, pointing at her.

Layla laughed when you blushed and apologized for the outburst.

"It's fine, and yes! How'd you guess?"

"I used to have an exchange student, he would come in here and buy books for his college courses all the time! He was born and raised just outside Cairo." You chuckle.

"Ohh! Interesting." Layla hummed, looking at the books in her hands.

"Hm... you mentioned you had a menu of sorts?"

"Sure!" You lead her over to one of the nooks, and hand her the laminated mini menu you had available.

Her eyebrows raised, impressed at the various items you had available.

"Oh! This is actually nice..."

"Yep! Most of it is made to order by me, so some of it'll take a bit to bake." You grin proudly.

"Oh... well in that case, is it okay if I ask you to keep me some company? If you're not busy? I don't actually have too many friends other than Steven and his... er, brothers and my... uhhh... surrogate mom, so being able to have another woman to chit-chat with would be very welcome..."

To say you were surprised at the offer was an understatement.

"Oh! Uh, sure! I don't... I don't mind!"

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You and Layla clicked very well. You had similar tastes in things like reality TV, romance novels, even skincare routines.

But when she started talking about herself, is when it got interesting. It turns out she had been married to Marc at some point.

She was his ex-wife. The one he told you about.

"I imagine it's kind of awkward for you two, huh?" You remarked.

"Oh, me n Marc? Not at all! We're still good friends, it's just..." Layla set her coffee down, frowning as she tried to think of how to describe it.

"...After a while, whatever we had... like... the spark, I guess? It just... faded. Marc went through a bit of soul searching and after he did that, well..."

They weren't soulmates.

"Ah... I understand." You sighed.

"What about you?" She asked, a small sly smirk playing her lips.

"Oh! Uh... yeah. No. Nothing for me, I'm afraid." You chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Oh? Nobody special or anything like that? Never kissed someone?"

"Well, I mean, when I was in highschool I kissed a girl on a dare." You sip your own coffee.

"A girl?" Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yeah, to be honest I'm not sure what kind of preference I have, because I've never really been attracted to anyone before, but it was... weird. Didn't feel like everyone talked it up to be."

"Ah... so... are you waiting for your soulmate, then?" Layla asked a bit tightly.

"Yeah... I know it's stupid, but..." You say, looking down at the mug in your hands.

"Not really. Who doesn't want to meet the one person that is your other half?" She said, smiling softly in sympathy.

Her finger traced the rim of her cup idly, trying to think of the best way to go about phrasing the next question without being obvious about her suspicions.

"Do you... have any ideas of who it might be?" She finally asked.

You shake your head and shrug. "D'nno. I don't know if it's a man or a woman or... well anybody, really. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like once you meet your soulmate because each bond is different so..."

Layla wanted to scream. She wanted to facepalm, she wanted to smack her head on the table. She wanted to splash her coffee into her face.

Taweret was giggling like mad.

"Not as easy as you assumed it was going to be, eh Little One?" The goddess smiled behind her hand at Layla.

Her eyebrow twitched, knowing full well she couldn't retort without looking insane or revealing her position as Taweret's avatar.

You had to be Marc's (and possibly Steven's and Jake's) soulmate. It was all just too coincidental for her liking.

"Oh! That's... well I hope they're close by!" Layla said, forcing a very strained smile.

How could you and Marc be this thick?!

That fact alone had to mean something.

"That's everyone's hope, isn't it?" You chuckled softly, a small fond smile on your face, a glimmer of sadness in your eyes.

Layla felt sympathy for you in the moment, realizing how terribly lonely you must be feeling. And how much pain.

Especially with Marc and the others doing Khonshu's will.

Taweret seemed to pick the thought out of thin air, so in tune with Layla she could tell by the flash in her eyes what she was thinking about.

"Ohhh! That bloody old bone-head!" She huffed, her nostrils flaring as she crossed her arms, her bottom lip poking out from beneath her muzzle.

"He needs to give those poor boys a break! Especially because whatever happens to them, happens to her!" She gestured to you with her big, yet gentle hands.

Layla cleared her throat.

"Well, uh.... since I've told you about me... why don't you tell me about you? Where were you born, stuff like that?" Layla asked you, still smiling.

"Oh! Me? I'm afraid it's not very interesting." You chuckled dryly.

Layla looked outside as the rain came down in sheets. Not very appealing to walk back to the boys' flat in this weather... especially not for her hair.

"It looks like I've got time, love. Go ahead! We can have some more drinks while we chat."

You smiled a bit wider.

It was nice to have a girl-friend to talk with, again.

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When Steven had woken up, Layla was gone, and Marc and Jake left Steven quite alone in the body, letting him front entirely for the day. She'd left a note on Gus and Co's tank saying she went out for a bit for some fresh air.

Which, quite frankly, Marc said was bullshit because of the weather. Layla wouldn't go out in a monsoon and risk her hair becoming an unmanageable spongy mop that would take forever to dry, unless she was going somewhere very specific.

It was one of the things she complained about the most when they were together, something he thought was amusing. He remembered one time they got caught in a rain after their wedding, and at the hotel she was fussing and muttering under her breath as her wet curls hung over her face, desperately trying to get the dripping mass of hair to dry, glaring at herself in the mirror.

Steven sighed, and made his morning cup of tea and went about his routine. He dusted some, and decided to slip on his apron and play with some recipes he'd found online.

The apron was a bit... "dinky" as Marc had called it. Jake apparently ordered it online when he saw the slightly cartoon'd Egyptian motifs on it and left it as a present for Steven, since his favorite thing to do other than read was to cook (and he was a major Egyptophile).

When he was finished, he'd placed the extra portions in a small container in the fridge for Layla when she returned, in case she was hungry.

Then, he sat down, ate, and read a book while he played some music over the cheap sound system Marc installed.

When Layla returned, she was... dry. Remarkably dry. Her hair was still perky and everything!

She apparently bought an umbrella while she was out, placing it in the holder so no excess water dripped on the floor.

"Ah! Hey Steven." She chuckled, walking up and kissing his cheek, knocking his glasses off to the side as she did, placing her bag on the little table nearby.

"How'd you know?" Steven chuckled, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at her.

"Well, aside from the fact you're hunched over like a goblin over a book... the flat smells wonderful. You've obviously been cooking. Not Marc." She grinned.

"Ha!" Steven giggled.

Layla hummed as she set her new purchases on the table, folding the little canvas bag neatly.

Steven's eyebrows shot up when he saw the books.

"Where were you..?" He asked, clearing his throat.

"Oh, y'know... exploring. Went out for a tea..." She grinned at him out of the corner of her still ridiculously beautiful eyes.

"Visited that bookstore you 'n Marc told me about."

Steven fidgeted in his seat.

"O-oh..."

"Mhmm." She tapped her nails on the books' hard covers; she then turned around and crossed her arms, still grinning as she leaned her hips on the table.

"....Why are you looking at me like that? And where did you get that umbrella..?"

"Oh, well..." She shrugged, sighing a bit dramatically, looking elsewhere in the flat for dramatic effect.

She looked back at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Your little girlfriend who owns the bookstore. She really is a sweetheart, she let me borrow it while I'm in town."

"Bloody hell! Layla! It's not like that at all--" Steven sputtered, almost dropping the book in his hand.

She started cackling madly, walking into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.

"Ooh! What'dja make?"

Steven made a noise, burying his face in his hands as he tried to hide the faint blush that crept up his face and set up shop in the tips of his ears, knocking his glasses up to his forehead.

"Bloody hell!" He groaned into his palms.

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Chapter 6: Link

#A Rose Under The Moon #moon knight x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly #soulmate au

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bonefall · 6 months

Note

If you flip the spade upside down and put it on Gorseclaw’s neck, it could kind of look like a tie

Hello anon with the most convenient ask in my inbox, you have been selected to receive a FLOOD OF SKETCHES

I had only drawn Gorseclaw and Ripplestar before, and I'm about to do a redesign of Larkstripe so that she has the "hearts" motif that her son gets. I did a bunch of sketches just to try and figure stuff out so, messy post

Glossary:

Ripplestar

Gorseclaw and Spottedpelt

Larkstripe

Birdflight, Marshscar

After I post this I'm gonna jump back into Clip to play with Cloudstar next

RIPPLESTAR

[ID: A sketch of BB!Ripplestar. The text points out his major features and reads, "Heterochromia: Amber + Brown." Smooth scruff, with an arrow that points out the shape. Ginger on 1 side. Deer-eared. 3 layers with an arrow that points out the three stacks of fur on his chest. Wooly, kinda like a half-shorn sheep.]

I've actually drawn Ripplestar a lot in the margins of my notes and such, so this design's pretty solid.

I change the side the hearts are on, plus the number of hearts, literally every single time I've ever drawn him lmao. It dozen madder.

What DOES matter though is that there's a HEART over his BRIGHTER eye. I use it as a bit of a visual metaphor, if he's trying to size you up or negotiate with you, he keeps you in the bright eye. When he trusts you or becomes comfortable with you in some way, he turns the brown eye on you.

So in most scenes where he's not talking to family I imagine he's not fully looking at his conversational partner. Especially on the Highrock as leader of ShadowClan, because the layout makes the leaders sit side-by-side. Might as well play with that simple logistic fact, y'know?

He does this because I imagine this marking kind of intimidates people. It's like the ginger of his eye socket has set his iris ablaze with fire, while the other is as cold as rain-soaked peat.

The ear on the "colorful" side is also orange. All of his orange is on one side, except for his tail-tip.

He's actually distantly related to Nightcloud-- his Honor Sire (who was known but not involved) went on to have a mate. So he's the half-brother of one of her ancestors, and Nightcloud has inherited this thick, wooly fur texture.

Again, I draw him a lot so this was the easiest one. I didn't have to decide anything besides that I made his nose into a cute lil carebear heart.

The drawing I did for this synopsis of Ripplestar's Rot was actually the first time I drew him, for comparison! It's fun to see what's been streamlined.

GORSECLAW AND SPOTTEDPELT

FIRST sketches didn't feel right.

[ID: BB!Gorseclaw and BB!Spottedpelt. They have long, curly tails, long claws, and bell-shaped heads. Gorseclaw has a sharp 'tie' on his chest, and Spottedpelt has a heart]

I feel like Gorseclaw's spades look too much like diamonds in this one, but I was really going for a tie.

I've been giving him those sideburns for months, so, they don't really fit the "shape theory" but I'm having a hard time removing them lmao.

And this is the first time I drew Spots which is a shame. I love a bad bitch.

If you look at my designs, you can notice that I have a few traits that cats from each Clan "tend" to have. They're all pretty genetically similar actually and there's a lot of crossings between the groups, secret or otherwise, but some traits just get selected for more than others, and StarClan is likely to toss them into kits. SkyClan has saggy skin (like a bear) and really bendy tails.

Don't think it's come through well here, though. In future drafts I'm going to try and make them saggier.

(Why? It actually helps them against insect stings and impact damage, like falling from trees and being hit by branches)

Then I went on to draft 2,

[ID: Second draft of the characters above. Spottedpelt is fatter, with "dapples" on her back which are actually spades, and a distinctive spade-shaped mask. The ears of both siblings are now spade-shaped, and Gorseclaw's tie is different, along with Spottedpelt's heart with is now more of a medal.]

I like Spottedpelt a LOT more in this draft. That's probably going to be close to the final design I do, I'm really vibing with the dapple-spades.

I DON'T like Gorseclaw in this one though, the face shape reminds me waaay too much of Dustpelt's familial face-plate. Absolutely going to revise that, probably making it more mask-like akin to Spots'.

Also very proud of myself for the spade-shaped ears.

Hate Gorse's tie here though, that's not a tie that is a stinkhorn mushroom.

But Spots' medal is excellent. Absolutely keeping that. She is a distinguished little war crime kitty

Still not fat and saggy enough. Coming back to this. I need to learn how to draw a primordial pouch.

LARKSTRIPE

I'm trying to redesign her and I'm losing :/

[ID: BB!Larkstripe. She's a very plain cat with a string of hearts from her eye down to her leg, with a heart-shaped nose, cutie marks, and a heart-shaped tail tip]

This was the FIRST first draft of the redesign and that heart chain is underwhelming.

It felt like too much of a downgrade from the diamond-pattern Larkstripe I did, and I'm worried that maybe it's because diamonds just look so much nicer in a "chain"

I feel like I see too many perfect hearts on chests in WC designs, so when I do them, I try to do something weird with them like what I did to Heartstar

So I turned hers into a little fur tuft splash. I like the idea tbh, I might repurpose it for another design.

[ID: A version of the above sketch with bigger hearts on the chain and a single heart on the flank, followed by another sketch attempting to make the stripe more "blobbish"]

I'm beginning to think that maybe I don't like the sketches because Larkstripe is sad :( I like when I can draw her angry, before the strikebreaking broke her

And unfortunately she is the absolute most tragic character in BB. They took the fight out of her. I figure it would be symbolically fitting for the heart shape on her chest to "break" after Dalestar's decree.

For those asking questions, no, she never joins Skypelt. She is convinced she did the wrong thing and ended up unleashing an era of suffering on the Clans by having Ripplestar follow in her footsteps, though she had no control over him.

She's a character who would offer her life as an example during trials involving the Cleric's Vow, especially since I've gutted Moth Flight in BB. She argues about how important it is to avoid birthing cats who will claim their conquest is holy in the name of their parents.

She would also have something to say to Mudfur, admonishing him for breaking his Vow so openly, even saying that he's responsible for Leopardstar and all of her choices.

Basically, Larkstripe is beaten. She is a very tired, shameful spirit who repeats exactly what Silverpelt told her, during her own trial. She's so grateful to be here that she acts with devotion towards it.

Hurt people hurt people and all

But anyway, I still feel like it's a bit of a downgrade from the older design for Larkstripe, so I'm probably going to keep playing with it.

BIRDFLIGHT AND MARSHSCAR

[ID: BB!Birdflight. She's a tabby with the spades motif, long bases stretching up into hears on her shoulder, side, and flank.]

I want her to look old and tired. She's got that Leafpoolyness about her.

She's technically the very first member of the Tigerkin family, and has those characteristic long-claws.

I imagine in Clanmew her name is actually Yassgafba, "Raptor preparing to take flight." I have this really sad mental image of a majestic hawk that keeps spreading its wings, as if to take off and fly away, but never does.

Fitting, because she waited her whole life for Cloudstar to send word they'd found a new home, to come and fetch her and their children, but never did.

While I'm at the trivia, yes, Ripplestar and her were very close. Larkstripe argues in StarClan that Ripplestar started his war because of her, but it's not true. It was Birdflight who made him believe that Cloudstar would never abandon his family; if they hadn't heard from him, something was very wrong.

She died before he became leader, probably of a sickness outbreak. She likely didn't take the journey because she's immunocompromised in some way, plus the two newborns.

She was given a place in StarClan, but I'm not sure if she followed Ripplestar and Birdflight into the Dark Forest. She DID vote to accept them though.

I think she's practical about this. Leave for the Dark Forest, and you loose your voting power in StarClan.

She sees that there are very few SkyClan ancestors left here, hears Skystar scoff that the others are fools for leaving, that if more had remained then the rebels would not have been damned... and understands the value in his words.

If there's any reason for the Tigerkin Curse (which I hadn't really been working with until now, tbh, I just chalked it up to Bad Mojo on the night of Ripplestar's last stand), it's probably related to Birdflight in some way. Which is why no one knows what's causing it.

I don't know why, yet, though. Maybe it's an accident on her part. She could be crafting their litters, but every time she finishes a set, she can't help but cry about how much the fresh souls remind her of the newborns that stopped her from joining her mate, and her kits in the Dark Forest.

It's probably why the PROPER curse might stop abruptly after SkyClan's return. She joins Skypelt as soon as it's an option.

[ID: BB!Marshscar. He's a scrawny, battle-scarred old tabby with a diamond motif.]

He doesn't have any markings in-canon so I tried to just make all of his scars diamond-shaped. I don't think it works, I'm going to give him some markings.

I like the ears though, that's staying. I might also borrow from the old Larkstripe design, give him those funky diamond-spikes on his chest.

I have barely talked about him, but he is actually very important to Ripplestar. They've been mates since they were young warriors.

I kinda want to make it so that Spottedpelt was Ripplestar's deputy before being killed that night, but it was always implicit that if something happened to them, Marshscar was next in charge.

This drawing is definitely when he's older and more worn-out, he lives a long life without Ripplestar, ruling ShadowClan reluctantly, half-heartedly doing the bare minimum.

It's a downer story, and I think it really fits the theme here that Clan Culture is about to get a whole lot worse before it gets better... but still I love the fact that Ripplestar's Rot just ends with the entire cast like

[ID: Spongebob sits at a diner with his hands folded, frowning slightly, disquieted and deep in thought]

Like there really isn't a happy camper in this one lmao. Nobody wins. Alexa play 'That's Not How The Story Goes'

#The ONLY sketch that's REALLY smiling is Spottedpelt lmaoooo #The rest of the cast: 'nothing in life matters'#Spottedpelt: 'NOTHING IN LIFE MATTERS <3'#better bones au #Sketch requests #Ripplestar's Rot #BB!Ripplestar #BB!Marshscar #BB!Marshstar #BB!Spottedpelt #BB!Birdflight #BB!Larkstripe

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