I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They

I was wondering if you could do a Lochlan Ratliff x reader where she’s also visiting Thailand and they just have a whole romantic time together like puppy innocent love

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lochlan ratliff and reader

I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They
I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They

The sun glistens on the surface of the pool, water shifting like liquid gold as guests lounge nearby, the soft hum of conversation mixing with the occasional splash. You let your hands drift through the cool water, your body weightless as you float, eyes half-lidded against the heat. Everything feels slow, dreamlike, the kind of afternoon where time doesn’t seem to move at all.

And then you notice him.

He’s at the far end of the pool, standing waist-deep in the water, running a hand through his damp hair. He looks out of place, not in a bad way, just… different. Like he’s unsure of what to do with himself. His light eyes flicker around the pool deck, glancing at the groups of people laughing and talking, before landing on you.

For a second, neither of you move. Then you smile, small, unsure, just enough to acknowledge the moment.

He smiles back, hesitant at first, then real.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight, the water rippling around him.

“Hi,” you reply softly.

It’s quiet for a beat, neither of you quite knowing what to say next. You’re not even sure why you say it, but the words slip out before you can stop them.

“Wanna play mermaids?”

His brow furrows, his lips parting slightly in confusion. “Mermaids?”

You nod.

For a moment, he just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a small laugh. He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“I, uh… don’t think I know how to play mermaids.”

You grin, tilting your head. “It’s not that hard. You just have to swim like one. Kick your legs together instead of separately.”

He squints, like he’s considering it, then exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not! Just try it.”

He sighs dramatically, like he’s about to do something humiliating, and then dives under. You follow, watching as he awkwardly keeps his legs together, barely making any progress through the water. When you both surface, you’re already laughing.

“Okay, that was terrible,” you tease.

“Yeah, no shit,” he breathes, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. “How do you do it so fast?”

You shrug. “Years of experience. You’re talking to a pro.”

His lips twitch, like he wants to say something sarcastic, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you for a second before blurting, “I’m Lochlan, by the way.”

You give him your name in return, and he repeats it like he’s testing how it feels in his mouth.

The afternoon drifts by in easy conversation, playful splashes, and attempts at swimming like mermaids that leave both of you breathless with laughter. You don’t expect to see him again after that—vacation friendships are fleeting, and the resort is big enough that you could easily go the rest of the trip without running into him.

But later, as you’re walking through the lobby, you hear someone call your name.

You turn and find Lochlan jogging toward you, slightly out of breath, as if he had to talk himself into doing this.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—do you wanna… umm.. walk around or something? Shop? Get food?”

Before you can even answer, a voice cuts in.

“You’re ditching me for her?”

You glance over and see a guy much older, very handsome, lounging on a nearby chair, watching Lochlan with a smirk. He looks between the two of you, then shakes his head in exaggerated disbelief.

Lochlan shrugs. “Yeah… sorry Saxon ”

Saxon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Have fun with your little date.”

Lochlan’s face flushes, but he ignores him, turning back to you. “So?”

You nod. “Yeah. I can go.”

I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They

The streets are alive with movement, a warm glow settling over the market as the sky begins its slow descent into dusk. You and Lochlan weave through the crowd, stopping at every other stall, fingers brushing as you reach for the same thing more than once. Neither of you acknowledge it, but neither of you pull away, either.

“You would totally rock this,” he says, holding up a sequined button-down, his face completely serious.

You snort. “Oh, absolutely. I was just thinking I needed something to blind people with.”

He grins, shoving it back onto the rack. “What about this?” He pulls out a pair of neon pink shorts.

You deadpan. “I think you should get them.”

He holds them up to his waist. “Be honest—do they bring out my eyes?”

You pretend to consider. “You might be starting a whole new fashion trend.”

Lochlan laughs, tossing the shorts back. “Okay, so no pink shorts for me. Got it.”

As you move deeper into the market, the scent of grilled meat and spices fills the air. A street vendor calls out in Thai, waving a skewer of something unidentifiable.

“You ever had that?” Lochlan asks.

You shake your head. “Let’s try it.”

He gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t argue, ordering two. The first bite is a mistake. You both cough at the same time, grabbing for drinks as your faces scrunch up in unison.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, swallowing quickly. “What was that?”

“I have no idea, but I think my mouth is on fire,” Lochlan says, eyes watering as he fans his tongue.

You burst out laughing, and despite the disaster, he does too.

The evening air is warm as the two of you wander through the night market, weaving between stalls filled with silk scarves, carved elephants, and street food sizzling on open grills. The smell of grilled skewers and fresh mango fills the air, and Lochlan reaches for your hand without thinking, pulling you toward a stall selling colorful woven bracelets.

“You think this would suit me?” he asks, holding up a bright pink one.

You laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He smirks. “I’m getting it anyway.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something soft about the way he looks at you as he hands over a few baht, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.

“Now you have to get one too,” he says.

You shake your head. “That’s not how this works.”

“Sure it is,” he grins, grabbing another bracelet, this one blue, softer, the color of the ocean at dusk. Without asking, he takes your wrist, fastening it gently around you. His fingers linger just a little too long, his touch warm against your skin.

Your heart stumbles.

For the rest of the night, you don’t let go of each other’s hands.

As the night deepens, the market glows with lanterns, the energy shifting into something softer, quieter. Without really thinking about it, you slip your hand into his again even after only letting go for two minutes. He doesn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers, squeezing lightly like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

At the end of the market, you pause near a quiet corner, away from the crowd. The silence between you is comfortable, but there’s something else there, something unspoken.

Before you can overthink it, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

It’s barely a second, but when you pull away, Lochlan is already looking at you.

And then, without a word, he tilts his head down and catches your lips in his.

It’s quick, just a heartbeat, but it’s enough to leave your stomach in knots.

When you part, you meet his gaze, your breath still unsteady. His hand, still laced with yours, tightens slightly.

For a second, neither of you move.

And then, slowly, he leans in again.

This time, you don’t hesitate.

I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They

By the time you’re standing outside your room, the resort quiet except for the distant hum of the waves, neither of you want to say goodnight.

Lochlan hesitates, shifting on his feet, then reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek, feather-light, and you swear he’s closer than he was a second ago.

“Thanks for today,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Me too.”

And then, before you can second-guess it, you lean up and kiss his cheek.

It’s meant to be quick, a simple goodnight. But the second your lips touch his skin, he turns his head, just slightly, just enough.

Your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft, barely more than a breath, but it sends a rush of warmth through you, curling in your chest, your fingertips.

When you pull back, his eyes are wide, searching yours, like he’s wondering if that really just happened.

You don’t say anything. You don’t have to.

He smiles, small, almost shy.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Night,” he murmurs, watching you as you step inside, closing the door behind you.

And when you press your fingers to your lips, still tingling from his, you already know—

I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They
I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Lochlan Ratliff X Reader Where She’s Also Visiting Thailand And They

sorry this is long I got lost in the sauce..

taglist.. @italiansunsetss @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @yearlyism @cinnamoncunt

More Posts from Lovelymylene and Others

4 months ago

the DRIVE IN

chris and babydoll reader

The DRIVE IN
The DRIVE IN
The DRIVE IN
The DRIVE IN

summary.. After a group movie night, Chris drives you home and doesn’t know how to act.

The DRIVE IN

The night air was warm, thick with the faint smell of popcorn and exhaust from the drive-in. Chris had parked a little away from the crowd when you all arrived, his old car a quiet escape from the chaos of your friends, who somehow always seemed louder in public. The movie had been alright, not that Chris had been paying much attention. His eyes kept drifting, almost like they had a mind of their own, to you.

You had leaned back against the car seat, your hair perfectly framing your face, the glow of the giant screen painting your skin in shifting light. You didn’t say much during the film, just a few clever quips about the plot and one or two sarcastic remarks that had him smirking. But when you laughed, soft and sudden, it was like something had shifted in the air, and Chris felt it in his chest, sharp and undeniable.

Now, the car hummed quietly as he drove you home, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the steering wheel. You sat beside him, turned just enough to let the warm breeze from the open window brush your face. Your scent lingered in the small space between you, light and familiar, something he never wanted to forget.

“Didn’t think you’d enjoy the movie,” he said, breaking the silence in a way that felt more casual than it actually was. His eyes flicked toward you, hoping to catch something, anything, in your expression.

You tilted your head, lips pulling into a half-smile. “It was fine. Could’ve done without all the explosions, though.”

“Explosions are the best part,” he shot back, grinning like he was trying to win you over.

“Yeah, for someone with no taste,” you teased, your tone light but sharp enough to shut him down in that effortless way you always seemed to have.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You really don’t let me have anything, do you?”

You shrugged, your eyes still on the window. “You don’t need me to.”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek, his grin softening into something quieter. You always had this way of cutting through all the nonsense, leaving him feeling completely seen. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t something he was used to either.

The drive stretched on, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows over your face. He kept stealing glances, noticing how your fingers absentmindedly played with the edge of your sleeve or how your lips pressed together, like you were lost in thought.

Then there was a moment, a small one, but enough, when you turned your head, and your eyes caught his. He froze, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. For a second, neither of you looked away, the air between you thick with something unspoken.

But just as quickly as it happened, you looked away, turning your head back toward the window.

“You’re so quiet tonight,” he said, his voice a little lower, the words almost catching in his throat.

You hummed softly in response, shifting in your seat. “Just tired, I guess.”

He wanted to say something else, something that felt as big as the way he felt when you were near him, but all he could do was reach for the radio, settling on a low, mellow tune to fill the space.

The ride to your house felt too short for him but probably just right for you. He pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine, the sudden quiet making his pulse feel louder in his ears. You unbuckled your seatbelt but didn’t make a move to get out just yet.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice soft as you turned to look at him. Your eyes lingered on his face, and for a moment, Chris felt completely unraveled.

“Yeah,” he said, his hand brushing the back of his neck. “Ofc. You don’t even gotta ask.”

You leaned toward him then, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. He thought, hoped, you might kiss him, but instead, your lips pressed gently to his cheek.

The kiss was soft, lingering in a way that left him breathless. When you pulled back, your face was so close to his, and the smile you gave him was warm and just a little mischievous.

“Goodnight, Chris,” you whispered, your voice quiet but carrying a weight he couldn’t quite understand.

And before he could say or do anything, you opened the door and stepped out, your hair bouncing as you walked toward your front porch. Chris sat there for a long moment, one hand on the wheel, the other brushing against the spot on his cheek where your lips had been.

He watched you until the door closed behind you, then let out a long, shaky breath. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath, somewhat disappointed.

The DRIVE IN

@issysh3ll

The DRIVE IN
The DRIVE IN

Tags
1 month ago

Next fic—

Next Fic—

(Yes I took the time to write this out and????)


Tags
1 month ago

👅yumm

gotcha workin’ for it ft. Saxon Ratliff

Gotcha Workin’ For It Ft. Saxon Ratliff

MDNI 18+

pairing: Saxon Ratliff x Reader

cw: p in v (unprotected), pwp, mentions of breeding kink (no follow through), teasing, “baby” as a pet name, established relationship, random pop culture reference

a/n: this was supposed to be a Saxon and locker room talk, but the more I wrote, the more it divulged from its original plot… maybe I’ll revisit that idea when I can write a clear enough story for it.

“You’re always so whiny and pitchy.” SAXON RATLIFF mutters in your ear. He goes on to mimic your moans, exaggerating the way your breaths are stuttered. You punch at him hard to get him to shut up.

“What?” He grins at your response, taking advantage of the wide mirror in front of you two, lifting your chin so that you’re forced to face yourself. “Look, you’re literally heaving!”

He has your back arched enough that you can see how your chest is moving to his rhythm. Your hands are placed on his bed post as he’s got your hair in one hand and your chin in the other. He’s got his hips pummeling into you, his own body arching over yours so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re like…” He’s chuckling a bit. “Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh!”

Your words were about to form a snarky comeback when he hits a particular thrust that makes you choke on your spit a little.

“Hey,” This asshole has the audacity to snicker at you. “Breathe, baby, breathe.”

Thank god you don’t go into a coughing fit. But you also curse whatever reverence is out there as your boyfriend leans back and straightens himself, stopping when you’re so close to your climax.

“You’ll need air if you’re gonna be moving, right?” His voice raising an inflection towards the end of the question.

“Huh?” And your voice does come out quite pitchy.

“Well, I’m not doing all the work,” He slaps your ass. Hard. “So, come on, back and forth.”

“God, you’re seriously a grade A asshole.” Yet you find your hips are already slapping back to him, your back arching to his pelvis.

His hands find themselves steady on your waist, only there to hold on to some stability and guide you to some sort of pace. Soon, your bedroom is filled with nothing but your wet squelching and a speed comparable to that of Ariana Grande when it comes to switching races.

“Uhh, fuck,” Saxon has long abandoned his motive to stay still, rocking into you as he palms your tits and enjoys how your ass bounces back on him. “Fuck, fuck, you feel real good...”

You’re so close, and you know he is to with how he twitches inside of you. You got him whispering into your shoulder, your name repeated like a prayer.

He’s calling you pet names in between his moans. “Let me cum inside…”

In usual Saxon fashion, he’s not asking with a “please” or a “can I…?” but masking his demand to sound like a request.

“Nooo,” You’re telling him unconvincingly. “Pull out…”

“What? You scared I’m gonna baby trap you?” He’s got a lilt in his voice, still teasing you when you’re both so close to finishing.

“Yes, don’t fuck around!”

“Yeah, maybe I will…” Saxon’s got his arm snaked around your waist now, thrumming into you all harsh. “Have a tiny me go running around…”

You’re yelling “Saxon!” but he feels you clench him at that notion.

“Yeah, and you’re probably gonna be calling for me just like that too.” His fingers are working magic on your clit, circling your bud in quick motions. “You know me… I’m a family man.” And boy, is he.

You can’t even respond, too focused on finding your end of the bargain. Your boyfriend is also stuttering in his movements, rutting faster to get to his arrival.

You reach your release before him, Saxon cumming right after and painting your back in white.

He falls on top of you, warm to the touch. You bask in the comfortable silence, deciding to ignore the mess that’s gonna need to be cleaned. Better to enjoy this quiet before Saxon catches his breath, right?


Tags
1 month ago

Nick and Tara were being so cute I forgot he was gay ngl


Tags
1 month ago

Ugh 70s tdb hamzah I miss you.. should he come back guys


Tags
3 months ago

FROSTED FLAKES pt.1

FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1
FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1
FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1
FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1

In the summer of ‘76,, Matt meets a walking social disaster. In simpler terms.. a girl. I know. Matt Sturniolo and girls aren’t exactly a match made in heaven. But maybe this one is an exception?

FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1

September 14, 1976 – A Warm, Late-Summer Evening

The air smelled like gasoline and fading sunlight, warm in that way September gets when summer refuses to let go. The pavement still held onto the heat of the afternoon, radiating up through the soles of Matt Sturniolo’s sneakers as he walked home from McCleary’s Market with a bag of records under his arm. The sky had that golden, hazy look, half dusk, half dream, where everything feels a little too quiet, like the world is holding its breath before night fully settles in.

Matt liked moments like this. When the streets were mostly empty, the radio static in his head quieted, and the only sound was the scuff of his sneakers against the sidewalk.

Then, out of nowhere—

BAM.

A blur of curls. A crash. The sharp edge of a shopping cart jamming into his hip.

Matt stumbled back, nearly dropping his records, as someone practically barreled into him outside the market. A girl.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, immediately grabbing his arms like she could keep him upright through sheer force of will. “Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t looking—well, obviously I wasn’t looking, because if I was looking, you wouldn’t be half-dead on the sidewalk right now, but—oh no, did I break something? Are you gonna sue me? Wait, do people actually do that? I mean, I wouldn’t sue if I got hit with a shopping cart, but—”

Matt just blinked at her, trying to process what the hell just happened.

The girl, who had massive brown eyes and a mess of dark curls that looked like they had a mind of their own, stared back at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“…You talk a lot,” he muttered.

She grinned. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

And then, before he could say anything else, she reached into his grocery bag, dropped a box of Frosted Flakes inside, and walked off like nothing happened.

Matt stood there for a long moment, watching her bounce away down the sidewalk, talking to an old lady who looked very confused but not entirely displeased by her presence.

What the hell just happened?

And, more importantly…

Who was she?

FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1

@issysh3ll

FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1

Authors note.. (Okay a few things this is my first series that I wanted to start and I have a few questions. Do you guys want her to have a name and be her own character or do you want it to be a reader type thing. And also I tried to write this in a rom com type style so if you don’t like it pls lmk. Tell me anything you don’t like. And lastly do you guys want smut in this later on? Because that’s definitely possible)

FROSTED FLAKES Pt.1

taglist.. @italiansunsetsss @b1gba113r @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerlykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo


Tags
3 weeks ago

coming out.. I use to have a crush on Taylor Holder. KILL ME NOW UGHHHHH EWWWWWUUUHHHHH


Tags
3 months ago
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.
THIS Is What I See When I Say 70s Douchebag Chris.

THIS is what I see when I say 70s douchebag Chris.


Tags
1 month ago

maybe we'll meet at a bar he'll drive a funky car 😛

Maybe We'll Meet At A Bar He'll Drive A Funky Car 😛
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