#its a little different that what I usually do but I like it!
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misswynters · 2 days ago
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Ma Meilleure Amour
featuring. ekko x fem!reader
a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)
inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)
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Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.
You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.
Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.
“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.
Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”
That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.
But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.
“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”
You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.
“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”
You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.
“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.
“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”
You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.
“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”
He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”
“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.
The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.
“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”
You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”
His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.
“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.
“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”
There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.
It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.
Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.
“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.
You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”
“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.
You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”
He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.
You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”
Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.
“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.
Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.
You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.
The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.
“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.
He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.
Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.
Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.
Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.
“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.
“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.
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banners. @anitalenia
taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights
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amastarxoxo · 1 day ago
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ㅤ        ㅤ            ⠀ꕀ⠀𝆹⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀ִ⠀ worthless talking ⠀ּ ּ    ✧
Arguments with various characters
S1! jinx , S2! vi , S2! caitlyn , and ekko x fem! reader
arguing , mention of having a crush ( vi ) , hurt/no comfort , cursing , mentions of marriage ( caitlyn ) , drinking ( vi ) , mention of reader working in the brothel ( not prostitute ( vi ) ) , suspected cheating ( caitlyn ) , injured reader ( ekko )
not proofread or requested
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JINX
arguments with her are usually light and can easily be dismissed or solved quickly but this is very different. silco has been pressuring her as of late about her weapon for the hex gemstone; which has been stressing her out and getting more irritated by everything little thing. “jinx baby?” you spoke softly, trying to not make her anymore irritated. “yes toots?” she frantically looking back and forth at her parts and blueprints for her fishbones, “are you doing okay? do you eat?”
she shrugged her shoulders, continuing to screw the screws in. you silently gulped and walked closer to her. “listen baby…can you take a break or something? i don’t remember the last time you slept or even eat and—” “shut up.” you immediately looked her way like you misheard her. “i-im sorry what..?” she kissed her teeth, “ i said shut up! all you ever do is nag and nag around me! do ever shut up? i’m trying to work so i can hurry up and finish this project, but no you just can’t seem to leave me alone while you’re—” she stops mid sentence, looking to see where you were last standing, “y/n?” she asked to absolutely nothing. she rolled her eyes, not bothering to think about you anymore, too focused on the hexgem project.
walking through the streets of Zaun, tears blurring your vision as you do your best to wipe them away but if anything you made your mind clear as day in Piltover; she doesn’t need you there anymore. continuing to walk through the lanes until you reached your home.
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VI
pitfights. you hate no—loath them. so imagine your reaction to hearing that your crush becamea pitfighter after that massive fall out with the stupid top side girl. you watched as a friend of hers drag her up the stairs then she starts pushing him off and telling him to fuck off. you watch as the friend just walked away; already tired of her bullshit.
you breathe, mentally preparing yourself and your lecture of what you want to say as you head up the stairs slowly until you reached the door. out of curiosity, you reached for the doorknob, and its unlocked. ‘of course this idiot wouldn’t lock the door.’ you thought, twisting it and slowly pushing the door, seeing vi collapsed on the bed but still awake. you clear your throat loudly, catching her attention as you stand close to the now closed door. “vi.” your voice cautious but fed up. watching her destroy herself over a top side is so pathetic, even jinx powder would laugh in her face. vi groaned tiredly, “can’t seem to catch a fucking break anymore.”
“fuck a break! what do you think you’re doing?!” you wave your hand around, as you often talk with your hands. “what the hell are you talking about…!?” vi retorted back. “look around you vi, and your hair! your outfit! you’re a damn pitfighter.” you pointed at everything you mentioned, “why?! is it because of that fall out you had with that stupid top side girl..?!” vi abruptly gets up and stands in front of you. the smell of strong beer and whiskey clog your nose, in her breath, her clothes, everywhere, “don’t you dare bring her up.” you scoffed, “why not? she treats you like shit but now you’re a floor licking puppy for her..?” you stare at her, raised eyebrow, “at least she was better than you in many ways than one.” “excuse me?” “get the fuck out y/n. go back to being a fucking prostitute or something.” “i’m not a prosti—” she punched the wall next to your head, you flinch, hard. “out.” her voice threatening. your hands and feet quickly move as you open the door and fumble out of the apartment was vi was was.
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CAITLYN
a lot has happened in a short amount of time, well, caitlyn proposed to you, then jinx blew up the council and killed her mother, then your fiancée became a damn Dictator and has been worked and training nonstop with Ambessa, and you’re starting to worry. she has been looking burned out a lot more and tired to even notice you sitting next to her on her desk as she stresses over paperwork.
“dear?” you twirled your finger around her loose hair. she jumps a bit, snapping out her thoughts and looking up to see her fiancée, you, “sorry darling, do you need something?” she fidgets with her pen and fingers, you smile at her weakly, “your dinner is cold.” you point to the cold dinner plate, nothing eaten on the side table next to her. caitlyn sighs heavily. “right, i apologize my dear, ill…make sure to eat.” “this is the fourth time dear. you can’t be a commander with zero energy.” you cross your arms over your chest, “i know know i’m just” “i’m starting to think ambessa was a bad idea again. i worried about all this pressure and process. like especially after your mother died, this isn’t good..” caitlyn’s fist banged against the desk, stopping you mid sentence.
“i don’t need your pity or concerns right now.” you stare at her, confused. “what are you talking about right now dear?” “i’m saying you talk too damn much.” she stood up, the chair scratches against the floor and walks away from the desk, “where are you going?” you asked while sliding off the desk, “out. i need some fresh air.” you tilt your head to the side and keep your arms crossed, “fresh air? or maddie?” the blued hair commander stopped dead in her tracks, “what…what did you just say?” you scoffed, as you walked past her, bumping her shoulder. you open the door, revealing maddie with paper works in her hands, “i’ll take my leave.”
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EKKO
patrolling the area around the safe area, but your mind consumed with the thoughts of your boyfriend, he’s starting to overworking again. and that’s pissing you off. months of you guys dating and he still doesn’t get the memo. you sat on top of the tunnel entrance towards the hideout. staring up at the stars, wishing ekko was here with you.
suddenly, you feel a long cold metal jabbed into your side. you immediately clutch it to stop it from entering further until the culprit kicked you in the back, causing you to roll off the top and your body thudding against the cold concrete then you saw black. you wake up, the knife removed and you’re wrapped in bandages around your stomach and your arm is in a cast. your eyes adjust to the light shining down upon you, you wince as a headache rises and you hear muffled sounds of someone screaming your name. once your mind finally adjusts to everything, you hear ekko,
“hey hey hey! firebug! what happened?” his hands placing everywhere patting you down. you wince again, “ekko…that hurts..” you fully open your eyes. “what happened? why did someone find you outside of the base, bleeding out?” he raised his voice, not scary but scared. “i…i was patrolling around the entrance and—” “patrolling? didn’t i say you’re not allowed to patrol unless i’m there?” his voice switch to low. “i can take care of myself ekko.” he gritted his teeth, “well clearly you can not! look at you now! you don’t ever listen huh?” he started pacing back and forth, “it’s like you’re deaf or something, i said no! and you do the entire fucking opposite!” he grabs his mask and hoverboard, stops to say something but rejected that idea and just left.
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ekko was so hard to do ngl cause what has he done for to cause an argument🧍‍♀️and you notice how short-ish jinx is? yea cause i can never actually be mad at jinx.
©︎ A M A T E R A S U. all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !
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paradoxbeta · 1 day ago
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there is never going to be a normal way to put this but can we see your iterator designs naked
like. just. how'd you design them under their clothes
yeah of course! heres a moon i whipped up
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and now for some talking, because ive thought a bit about clotheless iterator designs:
moon's design was inspired off of the atlas models from boston dynamics (and probably all subsequent iterators i draw will be at least somewhat inspired off the same). theyre pretty handy sources of inspiration considering they look awesome, and since their movement is astonishingly fluid, theyre great models for what sort of joint and limb designs create articulate results. i think its obvious which one had the heaviest hand in inspiring looks to the moon
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moon is an older model so in terms of squishiness (for lack of a better term) there is none except for the face. actually, little related detail, the base of her thumb is not flexible, its essentially a small solid block. if youve ever owned a poseable mannequin hand with an inflexible thumb base you probably know that it can cause issues with fine motion in specific circumstances: its just a hiccup of being an older make. the more recent you go then usually the less bare-bones the designs are, they get filled-out midriffs and more "pinchable" areas. take this guy for example:
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this is old art and there's things here i would do differently now, but note the squishier underarm: that sort of thing (generally) becomes more common the more recent your models are.
another thing that changes over old to new models is the amount of variation in how the body is constructed, at the beginning i imagine there were only a few select tried-and-true "right" ways to do things, but as time goes on and more avenues of construction become available, designing an iterator's puppet becomes more and more of an art form that is influenced more and more by the judgement and creative tastes of the puppet designer(s). paneling becomes more a matter of aesthetic instead of functionality, and you start to see vanity features appear more frequently (like nipple adjacent markings as seen above, lol).
id say that while older models are closer to the atlas models in appearance, the newest iterators would probably bear more resemblance to the cyborg bodies found in the alita: battle angel film
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anyway all of that is to say naked iterators are cool
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lesbo-tuliplvrr · 19 hours ago
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slumber party
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bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader
summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.
clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night
wc: 3.2k
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Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.
You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.
You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.
It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!
And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.
So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.
"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.
Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.
You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."
"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.
"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.
It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.
Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.
"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.
"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.
"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.
Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.
"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.
"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.
Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.
You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.
You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.
"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.
She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.
Fuck.
You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.
"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."
Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.
She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."
You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.
"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.
"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.
You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.
Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."
"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.
She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.
Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.
Confused you asked, "Me?"
"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!
Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.
Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"
"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."
Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.
"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.
The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.
Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.
When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.
"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.
"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.
"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."
"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.
"I'll be fine pumpkin."
She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.
As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.
"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"
After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.
Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.
You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.
"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.
You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.
It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.
It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.
Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.
"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.
You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."
You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.
"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.
She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.
No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.
"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.
God, why was she so perceptive?!
"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.
"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"
You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.
You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.
"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."
She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.
"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.
"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.
If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.
You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."
"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.
With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.
"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."
Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.
She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"
Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"
"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"
"You can."
In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.
Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.
Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."
"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."
Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.
She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.
You were actually hers.
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soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>
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goldfades · 3 hours ago
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baby time. | JOE BURROW⁹ [007]
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free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!
MASTERLIST
⟢ ┈ ��𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.5k
⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your son's birth!
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of birth (who would have thought!?), not too descriptive, joe being the sweetest baby daddy EVERRR, maisie being the coolest aunt, mentions of water-breaking, descriptions of contractions, idk what else but... it's pretty soft!
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APRIL 9TH, 2022
𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. The kind where the quiet hum of the fan filled the room and the soft rhythm of Joe’s breathing set a peaceful background to your restless tossing and turning. Pregnancy sleep was its own brand of chaos—you were hot, then cold, then uncomfortable, then starving. The baby wasn’t even here yet, and they already had your schedule on a tight leash.
Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor a small relief against your aching feet. The bedside clock glowed faintly: 3:27 a.m.
Joe stirred beside you, murmuring something incoherent before settling back into his usual sprawl. He looked so peaceful, one arm flung over his head, the other draped protectively over the empty side of the bed you’d just vacated.
You shuffled toward the bathroom, rubbing a hand over your belly as if to soothe the little one nestled there. "Let’s not make this a nightly thing, okay?" you muttered. The baby gave a single, emphatic kick in response.
Just as you reached for the bathroom door, it happened—a warm gush that stopped you in your tracks.
For a split second, you froze, your sleep-addled brain scrambling to make sense of what just happened. Did I…? No, it couldn’t be. But the dampness spreading down your legs told a very different story.
“Oh, no,” you whispered, wide-eyed.
Your water had broken.
The realization hit like a bolt of lightning, and panic surged through your veins. You weren’t ready. The baby wasn’t ready. Nothing was ready.
“Joe,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood there, utterly frozen. Then louder, more urgent: “Joe!”
He shot up immediately, eyes wild with the disorientation of someone ripped from deep sleep. “What? What’s wrong?” His voice was thick, his hair sticking up in every direction.
“My water,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely to the puddle on the floor. “It broke. It’s happening. The baby’s coming. Right now.”
Joe blinked at you, his brain clearly lagging behind your words. Then his eyes darted down, taking in the scene.
“Oh, shit,” he said, throwing the covers off and leaping out of bed. “Okay, okay. Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out,” you said, though your trembling hands and rapid-fire breathing told a very different story. “I’m just… processing.”
“Processing is good,” Joe said, nodding like a man trying very hard not to freak out himself. “Processing is great. Let’s… uh, let’s get to the hospital.”
He darted to the closet, yanking out a duffle bag you’d packed weeks ago. Thank God for Maisie, who had insisted on the just-in-case preparations.
“Where are your shoes?” he asked, rummaging through the closet like it was a black hole.
“I don’t know!” you wailed, clutching the dresser for support as another wave of panic rolled through you. “Joe, I can’t do this. It’s too early. What if something’s wrong? What if—”
“Hey, hey,” he said, dropping the bag and crossing the room in two long strides. He cupped your face in his hands, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “You can do this. We can do this. Everything’s going to be fine.”
His voice was calm, steady, and just grounding enough to slow the whirlwind in your head. You nodded, taking a shaky breath.
“Good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Now, let’s get you out of these wet clothes, okay?”
A flurry of activity followed—Joe helping you into fresh leggings and one of his sweatshirts, both of you scrambling to gather last-minute items. The whole time, you couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. Was this really happening? Right now?
By the time you made it to the car, Joe had shifted into full quarterback mode, his focus laser-sharp as he buckled you in and started the engine.
“You good?” he asked, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the driveway.
You nodded, clutching your belly as the first faint contraction rippled through you. “I think so.”
The drive to the hospital felt both endless and impossibly fast. Joe kept glancing at you, his hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“You okay?” he asked every few minutes.
“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice wavered as the contractions grew stronger. “Just keep driving.”
When you finally pulled up to the hospital, everything blurred into a chaotic rush—nurses, wheelchairs, bright lights, and a flurry of paperwork that Joe handled while you focused on breathing through the increasingly intense waves of pain.
“This is it,” he said softly as the nurse wheeled you toward a delivery room, his hand warm and steady on your shoulder. “We’re going to meet our baby.”
And just like that, the panic ebbed, replaced by a strange, calm anticipation. Because no matter how unprepared you felt, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t doing this alone. Joe was there, and you were a team.
The hospital room was a blur of sterile white and cold tile floors, softened only slightly by the hum of machines monitoring your every breath and beat. You hadn’t even been in the room for an hour, but it already felt like days. The contractions were still mild, coming in waves that tightened your belly and sent a ripple of discomfort through your lower back.
Joe stood by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, his face tight with concentration. The fluorescent light overhead cast sharp angles on his features, making the exhaustion in his eyes more pronounced. He ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time, a nervous tic that betrayed the calm front he was trying to keep up.
“Yeah, Mom,” he said, his voice low but insistent. “Her water broke a couple hours ago. We’re at the hospital now.”
You could hear Robin’s voice on the other end, shrill with concern even though she was hours away in Athens. Joe flinched slightly, pulling the phone an inch from his ear as he glanced back at you.
“She’s okay,” he assured her, though his eyes flicked nervously toward the monitors beeping steadily by your bedside. “It’s early, but the doctors aren’t worried. They said everything looks good so far.”
You shifted on the bed, trying to find a position that didn’t make your hips feel like they were being pried apart. Easier said than done. Joe noticed immediately, his brow furrowing as he mouthed, You good?
You nodded, even though you weren’t entirely sure it was true.
“Mom, I gotta go,” he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I’ll keep you updated, okay? Love you. Bye.”
He hung up and exhaled sharply, dragging a chair closer to your bedside and sinking into it. His hand found yours automatically, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a steady rhythm.
“My parents are driving up right now,” he said, managing a small, wry smile. “Mom’s freaking out, of course. Told me to tell you she loves you and to hang in there.”
You smiled faintly, though your heart clenched a little at the thought of your parents, who were currently halfway across the country on a long-awaited vacation. Timing really was everything.
“They’re gonna feel so guilty about missing this,” you murmured, wincing as another contraction started to build.
Joe squeezed your hand. “They’ll be here soon enough. And Maisie’s on her way—she’ll probably get here before I even figure out how to fold that damn swaddle blanket.”
That managed to pull a weak laugh out of you, even as the contraction peaked, forcing you to close your eyes and breathe through the sharp wave of pain. Joe immediately sat up straighter, his free hand hovering uncertainly over your leg like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” you said through gritted teeth. “That one was just… a little stronger.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Should I call the nurse?”
You shook your head, exhaling shakily as the contraction ebbed. “Not yet. They said this could take a while.”
Joe’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but the sound of the door opening cut him off. A nurse bustled in, her smile professional and calm as she checked your vitals and updated the monitor.
“Everything’s looking good,” she said brightly, glancing between you and Joe. “First babies can take their time, though, so try to relax as much as you can. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you again.”
Relax. Right.
The door had barely swung shut behind her when Joe’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. He snatched it up, glancing at the screen. “Maisie’s downstairs. I’ll go grab her, okay?”
You nodded, watching him go with a mix of relief and unease. As much as you appreciated his constant presence, the nervous energy radiating off him was almost suffocating. Maybe Maisie would help diffuse some of the tension.
Maisie arrived like a whirlwind, her hair pulled into a messy bun and a to-go coffee cup in one hand.
“Oh my God,” she said, rushing to your side. “You look… okay, actually. Better than I thought you’d look after your water broke in the middle of the night.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward despite the ache in your back.
Joe reappeared behind her, carrying a paper bag you could only assume was filled with the snacks Maisie insisted on bringing every time you so much as sneezed.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, plopping into the chair Joe had vacated and immediately taking over the hand-holding duties. “Is it bad yet?”
“It’s… manageable,” you said, though another contraction building in the distance made you wonder how long that would last.
Joe stood by the window again, arms crossed as he stared out at the dark parking lot below. Maisie glanced at him, then back at you, lowering her voice.
“How’s he doing?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.
You sighed. “He’s trying. But you know Joe—he doesn’t like not being in control. And this… well, this is definitely not something he can control.”
Maisie nodded knowingly, squeezing your hand. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. To distract him and annoy him until he forgets how stressed he is.”
You laughed softly, but the sound was cut off by the sharp onset of another contraction. Maisie’s grip on your hand tightened, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination.
“Breathe through it,” she coached, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve got this.”
Joe turned from the window, his eyes darting to you as if he could feel the shift in the room.
“Another one?” he asked, stepping closer.
You nodded, focusing on the slow, measured breaths Maisie was guiding you through. When it finally passed, you leaned back against the pillows, utterly drained.
Joe brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch gentle. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
You managed a tired smile. “I’m just trying to survive the night.”
Joe glanced at Maisie, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. For once, they seemed to be on the same team, united in their shared mission to get you through this.
And as the clock ticked past four in the morning, you realized just how long this night was going to be.
┈┈┈
Time in the labor room felt elastic, stretching and warping with every contraction that rolled over you like a storm. By now, the initial nerves had morphed into something heavier, grittier, as the reality of what lay ahead began to sink in. The monitor beside you beeped steadily, a metronome marking time in an endless loop as the contractions grew stronger and closer together.
Joe hadn’t sat down in what felt like hours. He hovered near your bedside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking like he was ready to throw a block or tackle someone if it would make this easier for you. His hand was a near-permanent fixture in yours, and though he winced every time you squeezed too hard, he never once pulled away.
The nurse entered again, her calm professionalism a steadying presence in the chaos. “How are we doing?” she asked, pulling on gloves as she approached.
“How does it look like we’re doing?” you managed, the bite in your voice softened by the sheer exhaustion that clung to every word.
Joe rubbed soothing circles into your back with his free hand. “She’s hanging in there,” he answered for you, though his voice was tight with worry.
The nurse smiled, unbothered. “Let’s see where we’re at.” She glanced at the monitor, then moved to check your progress. “You’re about six centimeters now. Things are definitely moving along, but we’ve still got a little ways to go.”
Six centimeters. You wanted to cry, both because of how far you’d come and how much farther you still had to go.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Joe asked, his tone almost desperate.
The nurse tilted her head thoughtfully. “Walking can help speed things up, if she’s up for it. Otherwise, we’ll just keep monitoring and let nature take its course.”
Walking sounded like the most impossible thing in the world, but the thought of lying in this bed for several more hours wasn’t much better. You nodded weakly.
Joe sprang into action, gently untangling your hand from his to help you sit up. The shift in position sent a sharp wave of discomfort through your lower back, and you sucked in a breath.
“Easy,” he murmured, his hands firm but careful as he steadied you. “Take your time.”
Maisie appeared at the foot of the bed, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “You’re a warrior, babe. Let’s do this.”
With their help, you managed to swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, though your knees wobbled like a newborn fawn’s. Joe wrapped an arm securely around your waist, holding most of your weight as you shuffled toward the door.
The hallway was quiet, dimly lit in the eerie way only hospitals managed, and you could feel the curious stares of passing nurses and doctors. Every few steps, a contraction would stop you in your tracks, forcing you to cling to Joe as you breathed through the pain.
“You’re doing so good,” he said softly, his lips brushing your temple.
You didn’t have the energy to respond, but you leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence.
By the time you made it back to the room, the contractions were coming hard and fast, leaving little room to breathe between them. You collapsed onto the bed with a groan, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as the nurse reappeared to check on you again.
“You’re at eight centimeters,” she announced, giving you an encouraging smile. “We’re getting closer.”
“Closer,” you echoed faintly, as though the word had lost all meaning.
Joe crouched beside you, his hand brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. “You’re almost there, babe. Just a little longer.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, though there was no heat behind the words.
Maisie snorted from her seat in the corner. “He’d probably pass out if he had to do half of what you’re doing.”
“Not helping, Maisie,” Joe said, though his lips twitched upward for the briefest moment.
The tension in the room ebbed slightly, replaced by a flicker of warmth. But it didn’t last long. Another contraction ripped through you, stealing the air from your lungs and making you cry out. Joe immediately shifted closer, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice steady even as his eyes filled with helplessness. “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”
You tried to focus on his voice, on the grounding sensation of his hand in yours, but the pain was relentless, all-consuming. By the time the contraction finally subsided, you were trembling, tears streaming silently down your cheeks.
“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Joe’s grip on your hand tightened. “Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve got this.”
Maisie appeared at your other side, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “He’s right. You’ve already done the impossible—this is just the final push, literally.”
You managed a weak laugh through your tears, though it quickly dissolved into a sob as another contraction loomed on the horizon.
Joe leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “We’re gonna meet our baby soon,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Just hold on a little longer.”
And so you did. With every ounce of strength you had left, you held on, clinging to Joe’s steady presence as the hours stretched on. Time lost all meaning, the only markers the intensifying contractions and the quiet reassurances of the nurses who moved in and out of the room like clockwork.
By the time the nurse announced you were fully dilated and ready to push, exhaustion weighed heavy on you, but there was a spark of determination in your chest.
Joe’s hand never left yours, his voice never wavered. And as you braced yourself for the final stretch, you knew that no matter how long or painful this night turned out to be, you weren’t facing it alone.
And finally, the time had come.
The world seemed to narrow to a single, blinding focus as you pushed, every ounce of energy you had left poured into this final effort. The voices of the medical team swirled around you—encouraging, instructing—but all you could truly hear was Joe.
His voice was steady, firm but soft, like a lighthouse in a storm. “You’ve got this, baby. You’re so close. I’m right here.” His hand gripped yours with unwavering strength, grounding you when you felt like you were splintering apart.
Another push. The room tilted slightly, your vision swimming as exhaustion tugged at your every muscle. But then—then—there was a shift in the air, a crescendo of activity from the doctors, and suddenly, the sound you’d been waiting for burst into the room.
A cry.
A wail so raw and new that it seemed to rip through every other sound, anchoring you firmly back to reality.
Joe’s breath hitched beside you, a sharp inhale as he straightened up, his eyes wide and unblinking. “He’s here,” he whispered, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “He’s here.”
Maisie, who had been pacing like a caged animal near the back of the room, let out a sob so loud and unrestrained it made one of the nurses jump. “Oh my god, oh my god! It’s a boy! He’s really here!”
Her tears came in rivers, and she pressed a tissue to her face, smearing mascara into a black mess. “I’m never going to be normal again!” she wailed, though her voice cracked with joy.
Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt the weight of your baby being placed on your chest. The tiny, warm bundle shifted against you, his cries tapering off as he rooted instinctively. His skin was pink and wrinkled, his hair a dark tuft of softness.
You could barely see through the tears streaming down your face, but none of that mattered. “Hi,” you choked out, your voice cracking. “Hi, baby. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Joe leaned over you, his face inches from the baby’s, his own tears spilling freely now. His hand trembled as he brushed a finger against the baby’s tiny fist, which curled immediately around it. “Hey, buddy,” Joe said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”
It was 7:09 a.m., and the sun was rising outside the hospital window, casting the room in a golden glow. Time seemed to stop for a moment, the three of you cocooned in a bubble of love and relief.
Maisie sniffled dramatically from her corner. “He’s going to be the quarterback of my heart forever.” She clutched at her chest like she was physically overwhelmed. “I’m gonna buy him so many tiny football jerseys, you don’t even understand.”
Joe let out a wet laugh, shaking his head as he kissed the top of your hair. “Maisie, give it an hour before you start planning his draft.”
“Nope. I’m in it for life,” she shot back, though her voice wavered with emotion.
The baby stirred against you, his little nose scrunching up as he adjusted to the strange, new world. Joe pressed another kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly, his eyes shining as they met yours.
“You’re amazing,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t believe you did that. He’s here, and he’s ours.”
A shaky laugh escaped you. “I can’t believe it either. Look at him, Joe. He’s perfect.”
Joe nodded, his jaw tightening as another wave of emotion hit him. “Yeah. He really is.”
The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, the chaos of the world outside fading into nothingness. It didn’t matter that you were exhausted, or that your body ached in ways you hadn’t known it could.
What mattered was the tiny life cradled against you, the miracle you and Joe had created together.
Your son.
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aahsokaatano · 1 day ago
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"Humans," I had been told, "will pack-bond with anything."
This seemed patently ridiculous to me at the time. What benefit is there to forming emotional attachments to dissimilar things than oneself?
I had been forced to reconsider upon my first landing, which had drawn the attention of the local humans. I had chosen the large, open area for ease of travel, but this gave me no cover when the humans approached on some of the large quadrupeds known as "horses," with smaller quadrupeds known as "dogs" running alongside them. The dogs were loud and had possession of teeth and claws, and possessed heightened senses that made hiding nearly impossible, as they would alert the humans of my whereabouts almost instantly. The horses were very fast, and very large, with strong metal attached to their hardened feet that made any strike by them incredibly dangerous.
I returned to the leadership, shaken and furious, and asked for better equipment, as mine had been severely damaged in my escape from that wretched place. We updated our information to make landing in the place known as "Texas" strictly forbidden.
More landing attempts were made. Every scouting mission was met with disaster; the climate of Earth is so terribly variable that certain locations are too hot or too cold at all times, and others will be too extreme during some times but bearable during others, and there is so much water across the whole thing that it's nearly impossible to avoid. The entire planet is a deathtrap; perhaps that's why humans are the way they are.
Regardless, after the fourth landing, the humans seemed to put together a group of individuals that were present at all subsequent landing attempts. Not always immediately, but they usually showed up within the first day of a landing. They were all very different, not like our soldier drones, but they worked well together. A little too well for my tastes.
However, while preparing for another landing attempt, I received a communication from them. They asked for my help - humans are very odd, indeed - in preventing the planet's destruction by those warmongers, the Zkkfz (though the humans called them Zekes, for some reason. I suppose their soft mouthparts are unsuited to proper speech).
We do not want the planet destroyed - for all of its dangers, and the horrid incivility of the humans, it is rich in many resources - so the leadership gave me permission to attend to the humans.
I thought it would be all business. Take care of the Zkkfz forces, learn more about the human defenses from within, and then use that knowledge to further the plans of the leadership.
But now... now it is. Odd. We are almost done with the Zkkfz, but the humans are becoming more welcoming towards me, rather than keeping sensitive information away. One of them has even started calling me by a human name, even though I have explained several times that individual names are irrelevant for us. They bring me food outside of scheduled feeding times, and invite me to sit with them when we are not discussing strategy. Yesterday, one of the humans even gave me a strange item made of the soft fibers that they so enjoy knotting together in their free time, and told me it is a "hat" that they modified to fit my head.
It's all very odd. And I... I find myself not disliking it.
Leadership will surely be displeased when they find out about this. But for now, while the threat of the Zkkfz is still ahead, perhaps I can, as one human said "enjoy myself" a little longer.
The villain decides to do the classic "team up to defeat a common foe" trope but it's been taking a lot longer than they had expected,the heroes are getting emotionally attached and it's starting to get weird.
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celisths · 2 days ago
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JJK men reacting to you being quiet during sex | 18+
starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro
warnings: explicit, suggestive, 18+
a/n: i didn't do all my usual boys for this bcs i don't know how much you guys will like this since this is my first time writing something like this, but if you like it and want more pls lmk!!
masterlist
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Satoru Gojo
~this poor man was be so insecure
~he wouldn't say anything in the moment, not wanting to make things more awkward
~but afterwards, while you lay with your head on his chest, he couldn't help but speak up
~"did i... not make you feel good?" he would as quietly, almost bashfully, silently praying you would scream no
~and frankly, you almost did! you couldn't bare the shameful look on his face, looking like a kicked puppy
~as soon as you denied his accusation, his shoulders went slack as he let out a deep breath he didn't realise he was holding
~"why the heck were you so quiet then!?" he would whine, pulling you close against his chest with a big, childish pout on his glossy lips
Suguru Geto
~suguru would be more confused than concerned.
~i mean, it would really depend on the kind of sex you two are having. if its sloppy, lust drunk, sex after a while of not seeing each-other then you best believe sugu is way too pussy drunk to realise whether or not you're making noise.
~but if its slow, love-making and you're quiet? oh yeah, suguru is confused.
~he would whisper in your ear, "babygirl? thrust, why're you so quiet?", nipping on your earlobe with his sharp teeth
~you couldn't keep up the facade much longer- truthfully, you were being quiet because you thought your loudness would bother him.
~but when he deliberately bullied your poor g spot with his cock, you couldn't hold back wails and whines
~"atta girl..."
Kento Nanami
~Kento would probably discuss it with you the next morning, over coffee and a delicious breakfast he prepared for the two of you
~he would be sat across from you, nervously picking at the scrambled eggs on his plate as he wondered what the best way to word his next question would be
~"sweetheart, can we talk about last night...?" his voice would be totally level, but his blue eyes looking anywhere but you're face would give him away
~"you were very... quiet. was i displeasing, my love?" oh how nervous ken would be for your answer, his worst nightmare was not being good enough to those he loved
~as soon as you reassured him, a smile creeped its way onto his lips. reaching over the table and grabbing your hand to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles
~kento had never been more relieved
Choso Kamo
~this poor boy would stop mid sex
~he would look into your confused eyes with his own concerned ones "my love, whats wrong??"
~he would be checking you for any signs of discomfort on or around you before you could even reply. as soon as you denied anything being wrong, his little frown would deepen.
~"but... you were so quiet.." he would be very confused at this concept, every other time you two had sex you would be loud and whiney, why was this time different?
~"i just wanted to enjoy the moment with out my annoying moa-" but you were cut off by your sweet, sweet boy slipping his cock back into your pussy.
~"no... wanna hear you baby, please..." and god, how could anyone say no to that cute little voice?
Toji Fushiguro
~as soon as toji notices that you're not making any- nah, holding back your pretty noises he doubled his efforts
~you really think toji fushiguro is going to let you get away with being quiet? hahahaha
~he would thrust his cock a little deeper, his fat head massaging your g spot perfectly
~when you still didn't give in, he got just a little pissed.
~"trying to stay fuckin' quiet?" his thumb started toying with your swollen clit, lips clasping around one of your nipples. he was determined to break you
~a wicked grin split across his lips when he heard your little whines, and hums, turn into wails and incoherent babbling
~"what i fuckin' thought..."
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credits to @saradika-graphics for banners
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solidaritygaming-fanblog · 3 days ago
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right. So I'm kinda insane and found another song to talk about in some life series / evo context: Copycat. (Song will be linked at the end of the post!)
So, many people headcanon Jimmy and Grian being brothers- and it makes a lot of sense. They're both dirty brown haired, have dark brown eyes, are British, bird coded, have warring personalities, and actually are associated both with yellow, and then one other primary color- Grian taking red, and Jimmy taking blue. Even their main colorations show a kind of "parallel difference" between them, with recently, Grian being associated with red and purple, and Jimmy with blue and yellow.
Now. Recently Jimmy did some lore of him praying to the Watchers. And back in Evo, Grian was taken into the Watchers ranks- so there is some repeated or rhyming elements in their arcs. However, I raise you this- Jimmy is Grian's "replacement", or basically, a backup for if he defects from the Watchers. That's why he has such a deference to them- its hard coded into him. That's why he's acknowledged them so much recently, because Grian's slowly leaving, and they're beginning to get Jimmy to replace him.
For a long time, those two have had a sibling dyanmic- Grian, the older, stronger, and smarter brother, and Jimmy, the younger, weaker, stupider sibling. Grian basically torments Jimmy for his own amusement, and the Watchers let it happen- if Grian ever defected, they could simply feed Jimmy praise -you're better than Grian ever could have been, hes weak and you're incredibly strong, of course we will listen to you- and he would instantly be completely loyal to them.
The song has a few choice lyrics I'd like to point out:
"We get along just fine!" "I say everything you like to hear..." "It's funny how much I feel like I'm looking in a mirror!"
Say "Hello! What's up with you?" "I'm starting to talk like you do..."
"We've grown apart this time, I can't figure out the reason why." "It's funny how much I'd kinda like to see you cry."
"I've become what you like! I am what you wanted, right? Sacrificed all that I know, I have taught myself to let go!"
In any case, the main motif of the song is losing your identity- and that's exactly what's happening to Jimmy, memories of servers being scrubbed as the Watchers prepare him to take over Grian's position. The whole chorus is Jimmy giving in to the Watchers, and thinking about Grian in anger- he pushed him too far, yes, of course- the perfect way to get back at him, to team up with the eldritch gods Grian hates. Grian said he should be stronger- well now look at him! He's one of the strongest beings alive! He is now what his brother wanted him to be, perfectly made in his image.
Oh, and in case you need further convincing, look at how Grian's wings are usually portrayed. Scarlet macaw- red, blue, and yellow. Now look at Jimmy's wings- nearly always yellow, but in Wild Life, he's become a parrot. His wings are blue and yellow now. I bet he sometimes sees little red feathers and rips them out, desperate to distance himself from Grian- unfortunately, his brother.
Meanwhile, Grian doesn't know what's up with his little brother, and is desperately trying to get him back, to prevent him from making the same bad decisions he did- maybe even losing some of his Watcher powers as Jimmy's power begins to eclipse his own.
Link+ a lil more below the cut. This post is too long already. Whoops
youtube
Okay I can perfectly see in the "Copy that copy cat!" bit in the chorus, different sprites show up with every beat. The first four are of Grian (followed by a short animation of him saying the line) hitting poses, with maybe each sprite having a little refrence to a different season or series they have been in together. And then it swaps to Jimmy, facing towards him, hitting the same poses, with matching refrences. However by the end of the song, Jimmy takes charge, doing the poses first and surrounded by eyes- and Grian, trying (and failing) to match the poses and control the eyes, confused why he's lost his power.
Give my boy Jimmy the power. Grian has tormented him far too long.
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ghoulangerlee · 2 days ago
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HERE WE GO. dewther phone sex that probably could have gone on for another six thousand words if I'd continued writing instead of forcing myself to end it :)
there is some lore-y stuff in here because I am not me if I don't include my own personal lore, and at the end there's mentions of heats and knotting but neither of those actually happen :)
Dew is a lil mean in this but as it turns out, Aether really likes em mean.
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The phone rings, pulling him from the inventory reports in front of him—it's the desk phone of all things, not his cell that sits face down a little further away and for a moment, he thinks to ignore it, to continue his work so he can finish quicker and get to bed sooner, but at the late hour it could be some kind of emergency— 
He picks it up, balancing his pen in his other hand as he cradles the desk phone between his ear and shoulder, “Infirmary, this is Aether speaking, how can I help you?”  
There’s silence on the line for a moment and Aether tilts his head, “Hello? Is someone there?”  
A sigh, familiar in its tone echoes across the line, “Hey Aeth,” Dew mumbles, sounding tired, “Didn’t know if you’d still be awake.”  
Aether glances up at the clock across the room, the hands ticking by slowly, it’s late, much later than he’d expected, “Ah,” he says, “I was finishing up some inventory reports in the infirmary, some new guy decided to double the amount of gauze we need so now we’re swimming in it but don’t have any more antibiotics,” he glances down at the papers in front of him, red lines crossed through black numbers, “Been down here most of the day counting things to get everything right again.”  
Dew hums, a pleased little sound, “I like hearing you talk about the work you do,” he says, tone bordering on that sappy-tired one he gets whenever he’s worked to the bone and sleepy, “I miss you.”  
“I miss you too,” Aether murmurs with a small smile, leaning back in his chair and focusing all of his attention on Dew, “How is guard duty with Frater Imperator?” he asks, a brief flash of worry catching him.  
“He’s safe,” Dew says, yawns widely over the line, “A little annoyed by the travel, a lot annoyed that there may still be something or someone after him despite everything,” he’s candid about it, and if Aether closes his eyes, he can almost see Dew sitting in front of him, waving a lazy hand in emphasis as he speaks. “Of course, we’re doing fine, this other church is okay, a little drafty and the ghouls here don’t really speak, but I guess it’s fine for a little while. The elders keep giving me dirty looks when they think Copia isn’t watching though.”  
A pang of regret goes through him, he’d almost went with Dew and Copia, but something had come up in the infirmary, someone had fallen ill and he’d been the best person to fill in, he wishes he were there with Dew right now. “Sounds exciting,” he says, “A little draft isn’t too much for a fire ghoul, right?” he asks teasingly, feeling the tension of the day fade the longer he speaks to Dew.  
“Cold day in Hell that a puny little church with an annoying clergy bothers me enough to make me leave early,” Dew says with a snort, “I wanted to talk to you though, time differences suck. We’re on different continents and everything so I can’t even really feel you right now either.”  
Aether gets it, he can feel the way his bond with Dew is weakened, barely there, dormant in the distance between them—in the back of his mind he can still feel him, but it’s a far cry from the usual. “I know, wisp,” he murmurs, “I wish we were closer too,” he admits, “Church is quiet without you here.”  
“Copia was giving me shit earlier,” Dew admits after a few moments of silence, “Said I looked sad, like someone stole something from me,” he pauses, clears his throat, “Told me to come call you, that you’d probably be up working still even at the late hour.”  
“He was right,” Aether says with a little laugh, “Not that he has any room to talk about what is and isn’t late,” he continues, and then glances up at the ceiling, “Are you still sad?” he asks cheekily, lazily spinning his chair to the side, “Do you need me to talk to you so you can fall asleep?”  
He means it as a joke, but there’s a serious undercurrent there, something they’d discovered before Copia’s lateral move, when Dew had toured but Aether stayed behind—sometimes, sometimes his brain wouldn’t let him sleep, not alone, and he’d call Aether, listen to the quintessence ghoul talk until his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a comfortable sleep—imagining his mate right there beside him.  
Dew hums lazily, “Maybe,” he starts, but this time, there’s something of a breathless quality to his voice, “Or maybe I want to talk to you about other things.”  
It takes Aether a moment, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear something on the other line, a slick sound, a hitch in Dew’s breathing, “Is this a booty call?” he can’t help but ask, the words spilling out before he can stop it, “Dew are you—” he cuts himself off, presses his palm against the bottom of the phone and glances around the office.  
It’s late, of course, and the door isn’t locked, but he’s the only one down here right now, having sent the rest of the staff off, only keeping a bare bones support staff in case of emergencies, but he can’t sense anyone else.  
“I am working,” Aether finally says, lowering his hand, feeling a flush come up the sides of his neck, “If someone were to walk into my office, they’d—”  
“They’d what?” Dew asks sharply, the hitch in his voice making it obvious what he’s doing, “They’d think you were on the phone, right, baby? That you’re working late, working so hard for everyone, making sure the inventory reports are all correct. You’re not doing something silly like touch yourself, are you? You’re on the phone and you’re working diligently.”  
Aether grits his teeth, pressing a fist hard into his thigh, “I’m not touching myself,” he says, and looks down at his desk again, numbers taunting him on the page, “I’ve stopped working for the moment to talk to you,” he inhales deeply, bites his lip when he hears Dew moan quietly over the line.  
“You’re being such a good boy,” Dew murmurs the praise, praise that shoots right down to Aether’s core, “I’m going to touch myself and you’re going to listen to me and keep working, aren’t you?”  
Aether bites harder at his lower lip, tilting his head back against the chair, “I am,” he finally agrees, after a long moment of listening to Dew breathe heavily, the slick sounds of his hand.  
Dew waits for a moment, almost as if he’s aware that Aether’s not working, waits for minutes until Aether sits up, scoots his chair forward and picks his pen back up, “If I were there with you, I’d situate myself under your desk,” he purrs, words going a bit high on the end. “You’d be a busy body about it, complain about me distracting you but we both know you want me to.”  
Aether digs the pen into the paper in front of him, keeping his gaze trained on the numbers on the page and he hums a little, “You are good at being a little shit sometimes,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.  
A laugh, breathless and the slick sounds seem to get louder, “Uh huh,” he agrees, “I am, but you love me like that, you love when I push your buttons. Take you down a peg, big guy.” Dew grunts a little and Aether can only imagine that he’s fucking up into his fist, “You turn to putty in my hands the second I get my mouth on you,” he breathes.  
“Lies,” Aether says, trying to keep his voice firm as he presses his legs together, “You’re just running your mouth.”  
Dew swears softly, “Aether,” he moans out, “Strong words for the guy who begged me to fuck him right before I left,” he teases, and Aether feels hot under the collar when he thinks about it, how desperate he had been for Dew’s dick. “It’s okay big guy, I love when you fall apart for me, when you can barely speak because you’re so dick drunk,” he coos, “Thinking about how your skin’s so cold, but every time I get inside you, you heat up like a fire ghoul,” he teases, “Like I’m branding you from the inside out, isn’t that right baby, you’re all mine and no one can fuck you as good as I can.”  
Aether squeezes the pen in his hand tight enough that he can hear the plastic creaking, “Dew,” he says sharply, but doesn’t speak beyond that, knows if he says anything else he’s going to make a fool of himself, he’s going to start babbling about how much he wishes Dew were here now, down under his desk, mouth on him, making him come.  
As the silence stretches between them, Dew moans again, this time higher, another swear, the steady creak of bedsprings, little ah, ah, ahs falling from his lips as he does, “Say something sweet for me baby,” he finally says, breathless and oh so close. “Let me hear your gorgeous voice, tell me what you want me to do for you, baby.”  
And oh Dew’s begging now, desperate in the same way he gets when they’re together, even when he’s being mean and teasing Aether—when he’s close, when he just needs a bit more to come.  
The pen clatters to the desk and Aether’s quick to shove his hand down the front of his scrubs, so glad he’d opted for them instead of the stuffy slacks he normally wore when on administration duties, “I want your mouth on me,” he finally admits, “Wanna fuck your face while you wait under the desk for me to finish working,” he manages to get out, moans when his fingers meet his dick, stroking over it quickly. “Want you to put a couple of fingers inside me, something for me to squeeze around,” he swallows heavily, tilts his head back against the chair as he arches his hips up into his own touch, imagining the heat of Dew’s mouth around him, “I feel so empty, firelight,” he admits, voice breaking a little as he does, pants out in the open, “Feels so empty when you’re away, want you to carve a place inside me and never leave.”  
Dew swears again, louder, a litany of fucks falling from his lips and Aether thinks he comes, thinks if he focuses hard enough he can feel it, the heat of it inside him, that maybe their distance is driving him a bit mad with how much he misses him.  
“Come for me baby,” Dew’s voice, rough with his orgasm, fills Aether’s ears, draws a sharp gasp out of him as he clenches around nothing and comes, goes completely breathless with it as he continues to touch himself until he’s too sensitive and he has to pull his hand away though it doesn’t go far, arm falling limp between his thighs once his hand is free from his scrub pants.  
It takes a while for his heart to settle down, for his breathing to fall under control again and he allows it, floats there as he wishes that Dew were here with him right now, a warm weight between his legs, fire all down his chest and stomach as he cradles him close, chasing away the chill that always falls over Aether after coming.  
“—ay we’re going to be back tomorrow, we’ve done all the ground work here, anyway, the rest is just boring admin work that can be done over Doom meetings.” Dew’s murmuring when he comes back into focus, “As soon as I see you baby, I’m going to get my hands all over you just like you deserve,” he promises, filthy and low in his ear, “Gonna have you coming so much you’ll be satisfied for days.”  
Aether hums, interested when his brain catches on the first part, still mostly focused on the second half of Dew’s words, “Tomorrow?” he asks, hating the way his voice sounds so hopeful.  
Fuck, it’d been weeks though, since he’d last seen Dew. Since they’d been together. He misses him.  
“Yeah, baby,” Dew murmurs, “Our plane landed a bit ago, we’re at a hotel for the night, but Copia’s got a car coming to get us in the morning. We’ll be home before you know it.”  
Aether makes another noise, something choked, “Oh,” he says, looks down at the paper on the desk in front of him, half-finished inventory reports, “I’ve got to—”  
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Dew says firmly, “You’ve got tomorrow off and maybe the day after, Copia’s feeling a bit benevolent,” he says that with a bit of a grin in his voice, “Inventory will be fine for a couple of days, besides, Copia said he’d work on whatever you didn’t finish, just leave it where you’ve got it and he’ll take over. No arguing with me, alright?”  
And well, Aether can’t argue, because he’s feeling a bit selfish, a bit like he wants to shirk his duties for a few days so he can spend time with Dew instead, something warm settling in the pit of his stomach. “Okay,” he settles on, feels the weight lifted off of his shoulders at the word as he leans back in the chair, making it squeak a bit under his weight.  
“Good boy,” Dew says sweetly, “Now, listen, I want you to hang up the phone and go get cleaned up, settle in our bed and before you know it, I’ll be there, waking you up with a kiss.”  
Aether thinks about his nest, the one he’d been working on since Dew had left, how it still smells like the two of them and how much he wants to be there now, “Okay, yeah,” he says, “I can do that.” He swallows, bites his lip, “I love you, Dew.”  
Dew hums softly, “I love you too, big guy, I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”  
When he hangs up the phone, it’s with warm feelings, and as he levers himself up out of the chair, he feels like he’s floating.  
He grabs his phone, scrolling through the few notifications that he has, there’s a couple of text messages that he’s not too concerned with answering tonight, another text from Dew that’s just a heart emoji and then a singular calendar notification.  
Aether raises an eyebrow but thinks nothing of it at first, locks up the office and deposits the key in the safe box for another staff member to find before he heads up from the infirmary and to his and Dew’s bedroom.  
Once he’s showered and settled into bed, wearing only his underwear and a thin t-shirt that used to be Dew’s at one point and is entirely too short on Aether and stretched out the from the number of times he’s squeezed into it, he picks his phone up again.  
Taps the calendar notification and blinks at the entry that had been added recently.  
Mandatory Leave 10.26 - 11.3 – Accepted by F. Imperator  
There’s a text, one that had come in while he was in the shower, from Copia this time.  
Dew may be a little grumpy in the morning, our car arrives in three hours to pick us up, we’ll be back before your heat starts. The others have stocked your room while you were working and I’ve taken the opportunity to clear your schedule for the next week just in case. Let me know if there’s anything you need <3  
He feels a surge of affection, sends back a heart in response and takes a moment to take stock of himself, feels the low simmer of something that had been bothering him for a while, something gnawing at him the entire time he’d been without Dew—and he didn’t think that it was heat, thought it was just something happening because Dew had been away for so long. His mind races a bit, wonders why his heat had decided to show now of all times—  
His phone buzzes again, a text from Dew.  
Go to sleep, Aeth. I can feel you thinking from all the way out here. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.  
He huffs quietly, sends back a fuck you and a heart a moment later, almost immediately, another text comes through.  
Of course, big boy, anything you need. I’ll even let you knot me if you want <3  
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ughdontbeboring · 2 days ago
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Sweet boy
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Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)
Yours and Feyds son has a moment and you can’t help your reaction.
warnings none but fluff honestly lol
note: so this was NOT what I was supposed to be working on but I came across it in my notes and just couldn’t stop my fingers 😅 but this is inspired by one of my favorite Feyd arts of him as a child. I’m so upset I can’t find it or the artist. It’s like different drawings of him or his face as a child and he gives the meanest side eye lol so if yall know what im talking about please send it my way so i can tag the artist so others can see it.
If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.
I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.
it’s fluff and short babe but it’s Feyd so you know 😭 @peggyao3 also again not what I’m supposed to be working on 🥲🥲🥲
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The day had been long and tedious but you would not trade it for anything when it dwindles down to become this kind of evening. One which you were lucky to say you had often when your husband wasn’t away for diplomatic purposes. Even then you usually all stayed together more often than not. 
The large tinted floor to ceiling windows on the right side of the dinning room allowing for a view of the planets setting white sun to shine its last bit of light on your blessed life. The tint allowed the room to stay bathed in all its natural colors. Your skins hue still vibrant against the elegant black dress that you had chosen for the day. 
You couldn’t wait to get back to your shared bedchambers and slip into nothing but your silk bed sheets and your husbands arms.
Your eyes drift back to the table you’re seated at with the two loves of your life. Years ago no one could have convinced you THIS would be your life and you’d be the HAPPIEST you’d ever been or could be. None of the of wise women of your home planet could have foretold this. Not even your own visions nor dreams could have conjured enough to convince you this was the life you wouldn’t only lead but love with every once of your being. 
But when you take in your husbands jewel blue eyes that are already watching and only soft for you, you smile happily before your eyes slowly land on the beautiful boy sitting before you and to Feyd’s right from the head of the table.  
And just as your heart swells with more love than either you and Feyd ever thought possible, a loud laugh erupts from deep within your chest. 
You slap a jeweled hand over your mouth to try and contain your laughing from the startled identical faces before you. 
You’re in a fit of giggles as you feel both your husband and son’s look of confusion and it only makes you laugh harder.
You miss your husband’s face of pure awe at the sight before him even if he is confused he can’t help but be in awe of the women he somehow convinced to love him as deeply as you do, full of joy.
You wipe at the tears that have started to spill as you catch Feyd soft questioning eyes.
“I-I’m sorry but he looked just like you with his little evil side eye” you reveal in between laughs. 
Feyd looks on proudly at your son who’s looking between the both of you with his face scrunched up not fully understanding or liking the attention and laughs at his expense. 
Your son had just gave the most evil side eye to the servant who put the extra vegetables on his plate at your request. And all you could see was Feyd. They looked almost identical already and in that moment it was your husband who was a 5 year old boy not wanting to eat the food before him. 
And for all the reasons in the world it made your heart happy. 
“Looking just like your father” you say again as you control your laughing. You can feel the pride rolling of off both of them. “A grumpy baby”. 
“What?!” Your husband yells in disbelief, the fork and meat hanging mid air the same time your son yells his own defense.
“Mother I AM NOT A BABY!” His little voice rages before you with no true anger. 
“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” Feyd scolds quickly.
Your all smiles though. This was all you ever needed. 
“Yes you are, you are my baby always” You tell him as you take in his little face, the beautiful child you both created. The best of both of you. 
He huffs and crosses his little arms across his chest. The angry face he’s trying to pull off is completely identical to his father’s. You could draw it in your sleep the amount of times you’ve seen it over the years.
“Come here” you call to him softly as you push your chair back slightly. 
“No” he says trying to stand his ground that he is not a baby.
“Do not tell your mother no” Feyd scolds again watching the two of you go back and forth with eyes full of love.  if your husband continues on this path and your sure he will, none of your children will ever tell you no or misbehave with you. Feyd has spoiled you almost rotten, your son has received the same attention from his father. The amount of times he’s done wrong and Feyd has come to his defense, you too but you always stress the he can’t be quick to anger.
He had nothing of yours physically expect for you spiced blue eyes, which you weren’t sure how long they last so blue without a constant exposure to spiced air. You were born to parents who were born to parents and so on and so on for as long as you could say who had been born to and live with spice exposure. It was literally apart of your blood. So it made you happy that was the one thing that couldn’t escape your son who spent most of his time on Giedi Prime. So it made you sad to think about the fact that he could loose it one day but you tried to make frequent enough trips to your home planet to help him keep his Fremen feature and traits. 
Feyd allowed him to be born on Arrakis much to a lot of displeasure from some of Giedi Prime. You just couldn’t see giving birth here and raising a child here almost full time, you needed your people, your culture to be apart of his life. Plus you both knew it was the only way for your son to be accepted, he needed to embrace both half’s of who he was if he was going to make a great change one day. Greater change than even you and Feyds union.
It was worth noting all of the people who were displeased with your birthing choice weren’t around anymore to speak on it. 
His personality? It was 60/40 usually, him always leaning towards his father’s ways of behavior especially right now. Right now he was 100% his father’s child. 
“Come here my sweet boy” you call again. 
“Mother I am not a sweet boy! I’m brave and scary” He says as he makes his way around the back of Feyd towards you, very slowly. The posture straight in his small body. 
You pull him in quickly once he is in arms reach. Your hands hold his little precious face gently as you plant kisses all over. You can feel his posture slowly start to loosen.
“Yes you are, you may not be sweet to others that is yet to be seen but you will always be sweet to your mother no?” You ask softly as you stare into his deep eyes that mirror yours. 
You hear a small but confident “Yes, always Mother” as all the fight leaves him and he snuggles into your body embracing you back fully. His little arms reaching around your neck and squeezing tightly. Your eyes tear a little and you know it’s just your hormones. You have a couple weeks before your due it’s still been an emotional roller coaster everyday. 
You’re so wrapped up in your little boy in your arms you don’t notice your husband. Feyd is over the moon seeing his child get the love he never received. Seeing his wife who he adores more than anything loving their child, his child, a child that looks and acts just like him regardless of what he may have done wrong that day. Her love for him was unconditional. 
He loves to see her showering him with love and care even on his bad days when he’s throwing a tantrum. 
This was everything Feyd never knew he wanted and needed. 
He’d burn everything down to protect this, their little growing family. 
⚔️
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nxtaliaistyping · 22 hours ago
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Heyy I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you'd ever consider writing for Harvey dent/ Two-face?? Maybe something based on what you said about the coin landing on the scarred side and him liking a girl with a softer/pink aesthetic? Thank you so much darling~🩷🎀🩷
Two-Face and his favorite girl
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Authors note: There are multiple ways of interpreting the Harvey/Two-Face dichotomy in writing, I went with a more Arkhamverse inspired one. Hope it’s okay sweetheart <3
18+ nsfw, rough sex, degradation, spitting
“You’re too perfect f’us sweetheart.” Harvey mumbles, as his large hands come to rest on your hips.
Being with them both for a while now, you can always tell who’s fronting at any given moment. While the voice was usually a giveaway, Two-Face preferring to almost growl out every little sound that escapes his throat, whereas Harvey just sounds like a deep baritone. But it isn’t just that, it’s the way he looks at you. Which eye twitches when you say something, which side of his mouth curls more when you flirt with him, or wear a revealing outfit.
Much like the one you have on now, the pretty pink babydoll dress barely covering the cute panties you’d slipped on when he’d texted he was coming to visit. Whenever that happened, he usually needed a softer touch, a calming session, or a rough fuck to take the edge off.
“Needed to see you.” He continues, hands groping at the plush of your hips in time with his words.
“Always wanna see you.” You giggle in response, smaller hands coming up to grip his broad shoulders. He groans in response, the tension leaving his body at the slight massage.
Emboldened, you begin to really knead your fingers, although being much softer on his scarred side to avoid any pain or discomfort on his end.
At least he’s letting you touch him there, given the nights where Harvey is in control, his jaw clicking whenever you lean against his scarred side or caress it gently. It makes him feel like a failure, a reminder of who he once was. When he was whole.
But you don’t mind, both of them occupying a space in your heart. So you seek to prove it, kissing up Harvey’s jaw while your hands keep easing the pressure and tension out as best you can.
He relaxes underneath you, and you’re just about to climb onto his lap before his hand starts to twitch, thumb feeling that familiar pocket of his trousers. Noticing, you pull away and look at him, before he groans.
“No…fine.” He mumbles, and you realise he isn’t talking to you.
“You need to toss your coin Harvey?” You ask softly, moving away for a moment to look at his face.
“Need to decide…” he starts, before pulling the coin from his pocket and feeling the weight of it in his fingers. “We both want you in different ways sweetheart.”
Blushing softly, you think you’re starting to understand as you nod. “Do you wanna be more…gentle?”
Harvey nods, hand moving to your thigh to grip the soft flesh. “He wants to fuck you.”
Shivering a little, you can’t deny the appeal of either one as he readies the coin. “It’s okay, whatever happens happens.”
He grunts softly at your words, before flicking the coin up. Watching it skim through the air sets your goosebumps off to claw at your skin, time almost slowing as it begins its decent. Quickly he grabs it, covering it with his palm as you both eagerly anticipate the result. He lifts his hand…only to see the scarred side of the coin staring back at you.
At your catch of breath, his head moves ever so slightly, so much so any other person might not have caught it. But you did. So you stare at him with doe eyes until he speaks.
“Guess I’m the lucky one.” Two-face growls, moving you roughly onto his lap. You squeak, feeling the way he moved you as if you weighed nothing at all.
Immediately he’s kissing and licking up your neck, tugging on your hair to expose more of you to his hungry gaze. His other goes under your dress, feeling the lacy material of your panties before giving a soft slap to your clothed cunt.
“Wearing next to fuckin’ nothing.” His tone almost sounds like he’s mad, but the way his fingers grope and cup your pussy shows you how much he loves it, how much he can’t get enough. “Harvey’s right, you shouldn’t be with us. Far too fuckin’ pretty.”
You whimper, shifting on his lap at the feeling of his digits, before he rips off the material to push two fingers immediately inside. At your gasp, he shushes you and fingers you messily.
“Quit y’whining.”
Nodding as best you can, you try and gain as much pleasure as you can from him prepping you before he decides he’s just too impatient. With a slight huff, he throws you off him and manoeuvres you so you’re bent over the sofa.
You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, so you go to take your dress off, but oh barely get it past your hips before he grips your wrist harshly. “No no no doll. I didn’t say you could do that.”
Before you can reply, you feel his cock head tapping against your clit, gathering up your slick before pushing in roughly, not giving you time to adjust. At your soft cry, he groans heavily, pulling your arms back to hold before starting to push in and out.
“Look at you, creamin’ around my dick. Wanted me to treat you like a whore all along huh?”
You whimper out a yes in between moans, his cock moving in and out at a brutal pace. Clearly he has a lot of steam to blow off, with you acting like the good stress reliever you are for him.
“Our pretty fuckin’ girl, always so dolled up for us. Bet you thought about this while putting on that short fuckin’ dress huh?” He grunts out, feeling the tightness of your walls wrapped around him.
“Yes…yes.” Is all you can say, your knuckles almost turning white from how hard you’re gripping the back of the sofa. Each thrust causes it to creak a little under your combined weight.
“Gonna corrupt your sweet ass for all of Gotham to see.”
His hand yanks your head back, gazing down on your sweet face, the mascara adorning your pretty eyelashes and the lip gloss on your kissable mouth. In that moment, all he wants to do is just ruin you. So he isn’t even surprised at himself when he spits on your cheek. And he certainly isn’t surprised when you moan like a paid whore.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” He grins, hips snapping against yours.
Feeling the spit drying on your face, you go to wipe it before he does it for you, rubbing it into your cheek and lips, smearing your lip gloss. The sight makes his cock throb inside of you, especially with how pretty those ruined lips look when he pushes his thumb between them.
You suck the digit and moan like it’s his dick, wanting to please him even now. He loves that about you, they both do. How eager you always are, how that innocent princess look hides such a depraved mind beneath.
Eventually, your cunt throbs with the sign of your impending orgasm, your fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. Before you can alert him, the grip on your hair tightens to an almost painful degree.
“Gonna cum? Gonna cum at me fuckin’ you like a slut I picked up in the Bowery?”
At your desperate sobs of please and yes, he has the audacity to laugh at you before grunting out his permission. After a couple of deadly thrusts against your g spot, you’re cumming hard around him, whimpering pathetically.
But he isn’t done, no no he doesn’t even slow down. He keeps railing you, pushing as deep as he can into your cunt before ripping himself out and repeating. Your juices make a sinful noise with each thrust, the squelching reaching your ears and causing a burning flush to spread over your cheeks.
After what feels like a lifetime, he buries himself deep and cums, unloading the stress of the day practically straight into your womb. A guttural moan rips from his mouth, as he collapses onto you for a moment, coming down from the intensity.
"Good girl..." Two-face mumbles, and you bask in the rare praise from him as you keep laying boneless against the sofa. "Might have ruined your dress though dollface. Gotta get a new one."
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sweetlady555 · 8 hours ago
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Unlocking the hidden power of Mars 12H:
Hi everyone! I apologize for not having been uploading as much but I’m back and writing about Mars 12H because it's so powerful and I rarely EVER see anyone talking about it. As I’ve decided to step fully into my power starting November 2024, I’ve recently realized something powerful about my energy that completely changed my perspective, I will be using Kim Kardashian as my example as she is a Mars 12H native :$
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What Is Mars in the 12H? 🤔
Mars represents drive, action and motivation. The 12H is the house of the subconscious, hidden things, spirituality, behind the scenes, hidden strengths, the spiritual realm. When these two energies combine, they create an energy that works below the surface often in ways we aren't fully conscious of. 👁️
One thing you should know is Mars 12H natives makes moves in silence they don't need outside noise or your projections! You'll see how it's done just watch, you don't know need to know how, why or when they're going to do it, but just know they've been multiple steps ahead of you. Its like this divine calling thats always in your ear telling you which move shall be next and its such a strong force that its like if you don’t take action itll make you feel so……… wrong its like a itch. Usually Mars 12H natives do take the action and it leads to blessings I like to call them. Mars 12H natives do not feel the need to force anything, when the thought and feeling comes you do that shit! Mars 12H natives are always mysteriously led to exactly where they need to be.. this is likely why they get their rep for being so mysterious & secretive! Its imporant as a Mars 12H native to listen to your gut and trust that everything will work out as planned, and this doesn’t go for just Mars 12H natives it goes for everyone!
Let's use Kim Kardashian as a famous example on how Mars 12H manifests for the natives, as a Mars in 12H native I feel like I can relate to her ambition and I can understand her doings.
Kim Kardashain always knew she was going to be a star, if you have seen her videos of her younger self she states, "and you're all going to remember me as this beautiful little girl" For both Kim and people with Mars 12th house, the confidence and determination to become a star or successful often comes from a deep subconscious belief in their destiny. Even if they don't know the "how" or the "when," they just FEEL compelled to take action towards their dreams, sometimes in ways that seem hidden or almost effortless to others. In Kim's case, she didn't just fall into success, she actively pursued it through her work, image crafting, and seizing opportunities. Even before she became widely known, she had an innate sense of how to position herself and build her brand. This is the Mars 12H signature, an internal drive that doesn't always need external validation or explanations to succeed. Many people accuse Kim of "destiny swapping" with Paris Hilton but let's be so fo real right now.. Destiny swapping doesn't exist, and I feel like people just can't believe Kim rose above Paris Hilton which seemed so effortlessly, but not enough people credit her for her hard work and perseverance. People have accused her for being a reptellian too 😭 ? because I guess its that hard to understand hard work, dedication and logic actually does pay off! Kim has a vision and she's still actively working hard for her vision behind the scenes, and if its one thing we all know its that Kim will chase her bag regardless!
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My experience with Mars in the 12H :
Growing up, I always knew I was going to be something special, I knew I was gonna be influential (I have 10H placements so this might manifest differently) Last year, I had rose to fame very quickly online through my image and the amount of people who were confused af how I did it was flattering not gonna lie! I would hear people tell me things like “did you sell your soul?” or “whats the method?” or “you only got it because you had this and this” . I was always in my own bubble online posting what I feel destined to do no matter what my ego said. I thought with my soul a lot of times even if it was shocking, so honestly I could see how people would accuse me of “selling my soul” or having a certain method to my influential social media fame. There is a lot of pain & passion behind my doings and I logically plan everything out so it kind of flatters me honestly! To me this just shows how Mars 12H natives are skilled in making something out of themselves coming from being a underdog to becoming someone highly admired.
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The Energy Of A 12H Mars Native :
Mars in the 12H natives can have this strong powerful magnetic effect on others without them even realizing it but others will feel this on a subconcious level. They truly have a lot of appeal! Its almost like this hidden power or secret magentism that draws people in which could attract a lot of admirers, monitoring spirits, actual spirits even! 😭 The truth is though, Mars 12H natives do really have this strong inner power within them, they tend to be very confident in themselves and this energy reflects on the outside even through the screen. They have this aura around them that can’t be ignored. Mars 12H natives will often be seen as untouchable or enigmatic, just like Kim she knew how to use this energy to use this subtle allure to captivate her audience.
People with Mars 12H have this sexual energy that is more felt, not seen! This can make their presence intoxicating as others may sense their sexual energy without knowing where it’s coming from. Its almost hypnotic! Its a deeply rooted emotional and spiritual sexual energy often rooted in the subconcious. With Kim, she knew how to use this energy in her brand being percieved as seductive, powerful and confident, but it wasnt just about her body — it was about the way she carried herself and commanded attention without saying much.
Despite being more subtle, Mars in the 12H gives the individual an almost unconcious control over their sexual energy. Theres an innate understanding of how to play on emotions and create attraction often with very little effort. This creates an energy that is simultaneously passive and powerful and you can’t deny or ignore it either. Almost like being in the background but still being the force everyone notices.
There is a lot of fantasy and imagination that takes place with Mars 12H natives and how theyre percieved, natives with this placement tend to make others fantasize about them not just by how they look but how they make people feel! Their energy creates a sense of longing, almost like a dream or a fantasy that others want to live in. Kim Kardashian has been able to tap into this fantasy energy by cultivating an image of perfect beauty and luxury, which keeps her in a fantasy world that fans want to be apart of. This fantasy element is key to her sexual appeal, as it makes her seem unreachable and unattainable.
Mars 12H natives, if they aren’t aware of their power makes them a target for insecure people and spirits in the physical and spiritual realm. People will often notice this energy before you even do and project the most they can and throw as much dirt as they can on you because they’re afraid of your power! Its highly advised you take the precautions and make sure you are being careful in who you’re telling your business to, what things you might be opening in the physical and spiritual realm, who you let into your space, who you’re doing business with all of it! Dont let them take advantage of you!
I also had read that Mars 12H often repress their emotions or their anger and although it is that in some cases, Mars 12H natives just tend to strategically move instead of acting out on anger or resentment in the moment to avoid unnecessary conflict and to stay in power and their own peace. Its a silent strength many Mars 12H natives have where you don’t have to scream or shout to prove yourself, you can strategically wait for the right moment, then act with precision. This ability to stay focused and composed on long term goals is what makes Mars 12H natives have this quiet power behind them. People might not realize that this anger comes from a calculated, startegic place, its not random but it could be percieved as out of nowhere. The 12H is often linked to subconcious energies, hidden feelings and things that are not visible to others, so when Mars 12H natives express their anger it can come off as intense, mysterious or even uncontrollable to those around you. People may not fully understand why you do the things you do or whats going on beneath the surface so this often leads to people labeling your anger more extreme.
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The Spirtual Realm
Mars in the 12H natives are often deeply connected to the spiritual realm, but they experience it in a unique way. This placement can give them a natural sensitivity to invisible forces or energies like I mentioned earlier a divine force! Whether that may be intuition, sprits or subconcious currents that influence their actions. Mars in the 12H is often described as “Behind the scenes” or operating in the background, which makes these individuals especially attuned to the unseen world—the spiritual, emotional and psychological realm.
Mars, the planet of action, aggression and energy, in the 12h amplifies the natives ability to tap into intuitive and spiritual currents. This placement suggests that instead of being overly action-oriented in a physical way, Mars energy often works in more subtle and intuitive forms. For these individuals, the battle often happens internally-in the subconscious, in dreams, or in their connection to the spirit world.
Mars in the 12th house people often experience a sense of being guided by invisible forces, and they can be highly receptive to messages or signs from the spirit realm. This doesn't always mean they consciously hear or see spirits, but rather that they might feel guided by an internal voice or experience moments of divine timing that feel too precise to be mere coincidence. They may also experience heightened sensitivity to energy, such as a feeling of being watched, sudden shifts in mood or vivid dreams. Its not a common occurrence to hear ringing in your ears when you’re picking and feeling up on certain energies with these natives!
Since Mars 12H is a powerful subtle energy this makes spirits from the spiritual realm more attracted to them, Mars 12H natives are very assertive and felt by these spirits hence why certain spirits like to latch onto them. Its not common either to see spirits, see things move suddenly and even a spirit taking control over your body when you’re asleep. It sounds scary but don’t let this make you afraid, I once fell into this when I was around 8 or 9 when I was sleeping and a spirit had woken me up in the middle of the night and made me literally slam my face into my headboard that made the principal think I was getting hurt at home, i was always targeted by this spirit. I was the only one who could speak to it and make them do certain things like move toys and such. I didnt realize at the time I was connecting with aggresive spirits 😅 and not God. Its highly important for Mars 12H natives to strongly protect themselves when they are asleep because when you are asleep the veil between the spiritual realm and physical realm is very thin!
Mars 12H natives embody this spirtual warrior archetype, they can feel a calling to fight or stand up for spiritual causes or to protect others, but they do this in a way that is not outwardly visible to others. Mars 12H natives might actively avoid conflict when it comes to spiritual warfare or protecting their energy and their peace. They may also engage in energy work, spiritual practices, or rituals in private to protect themselves from unwanted spiritual influence. This is often done subtly or privately, as they don't always like to broadcast their spiritual strength. Their Mars energy in the 12th house can make them exceptionally good at clearing negative energy, transmuting it, and defending themselves from energetic or spiritual attacks, but they may prefer to do so behind the scenes, where others don't see it.
Mars in the 12th house natives may also experience periods of isolation or retreat, where they feel the need to withdraw from the physical world to connect with the unseen world. These moments of solitude allow them to recharge spiritually, process subconscious material, and connect with higher realms of consciousness. During these times, they may feel a deep connection with their higher self or with the spiritual beings guiding them.
When it comes to spiritual practices, these individuals are likely to have a natural talent for healing or working with energy, whether it's through prayer, meditation, crystals, or other metaphysical practices. Mars in the 12th house helps them channel life force energy in a quiet, powerful way, almost like a spiritual warrior operating in the background, quietly shifting energy around them.
Its important to watch out as a Mars 12H native what you are putting your energy into as these things will manifest almost immediately. When you decide to shift your attention to other IMPORTANT things you will often notice your energy was literally the foundation for whatever negative thing that was happening. So be Aware! You know how powerful your energy is.
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This was a long post but as a Mars 12H native, I rarely see any accurate or in depth posts of Mars 12H individuals, I had to really dig into my experiences to understand this was Mars 12H influence all along.. In my opinion, Mars 12H natives deserve so much more respect for what they do because a lot of it goes unseen and for multiple reasons lol. I havent wrote in a while but I was getting a huge urge calling to post about this. If any mars 12h individuals relate to any of these experiences please let me know because I’d love to hear from you! and please be careful 💟 may god protect your divine energy, space and you ☮️
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i2rizz · 2 days ago
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Ultraviolence
Fandom: Blue lock
Characters: Shidou x reader
Yes its yet another one shot based on a song
Please dont get in relationships like this one!
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The world always seemed a little too loud when you were with him—Shidou Ryusei. He thrived in chaos, a hurricane of sharp grins, bruised knuckles, and laughter that was both beautiful and terrifying. And you? You were the calm in his storm, though sometimes it felt like he was pulling you into the very eye of it.
He’d told you once, drunk off adrenaline after a late-night fight, “I’m poison, baby. But you? You make it taste sweet.”
It wasn’t a compliment. It was a warning.
The first time you met Shidou, he was bleeding. You had stumbled upon him leaning against a wall outside a bar, his knuckles split and a wicked smirk plastered across his face.
“You look awful,” you’d said, unable to stop yourself.
He looked up, his pink eyes gleaming under the dim streetlight, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh. Instead, he’d said, “You’re beautiful. Got a cigarette?”
You didn’t smoke, but you stayed anyway. And that was your first mistake.
Shidou had a way of making everything feel like a game. Love, anger, pain—they all blurred together in his world. He was reckless and unapologetic, and you found yourself drawn to him despite every red flag screaming at you to run.
“Do you love me?” you’d asked one night, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain outside.
He’d tilted his head, his grin softening into something almost genuine. “Of course I do. You’re mine.”
But his love wasn’t soft or gentle. It was consuming, like fire. He had a temper that matched his passion, and though he never raised a hand against you, the fights left bruises on your soul.
“You make me crazy, y’know that?” he’d said once, slamming his fist into the wall next to your head during an argument.
And yet, when he’d pulled you into his arms moments later, whispering apologies into your hair, you’d stayed.
Because his chaos felt like home.
Shidou was magnetic, and you weren’t the only one who thought so. His world was filled with admirers, people who saw him as untouchable, invincible. But they didn’t see the side of him that you did—the boy who crawled into your bed in the middle of the night, his hands trembling from a fight gone too far.
“I’m bad for you,” he’d muttered once, his head resting on your lap as you gently traced the scars on his arms.
“I know,” you’d replied. But you stayed anyway.
Because his love was all you’d ever known.
The night it all fell apart, you were waiting for him at the diner where you always met. He was late, as usual, but when he finally burst through the door, something was different.
His knuckles were bloody, his lip split, but it wasn’t the injuries that scared you. It was the look in his eyes—wild, unhinged, like a cornered animal.
“We gotta go,” he said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you outside.
“Shidou, what’s going on?”
“No time,” he snapped, but his grip on your wrist softened. “Trust me, okay?”
And you did. God help you, you did.
You never found out exactly what happened that night. All you knew was that Shidou had crossed a line, even for him. The car ride was silent except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional curse muttered under his breath.
When he finally stopped the car, you were in the middle of nowhere. He turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it.
“I love you,” he said, and for once, there was no grin, no trace of his usual arrogance.
“I know,” you replied.
And then he kissed you, hard and desperate, as if it was the last time.
Shidou disappeared that night, leaving nothing behind but a note scrawled on the back of a receipt: “You deserve better, baby. Don’t wait for me.”
You didn’t cry. Not at first. But as the days turned into weeks, the reality of his absence hit you like a freight train.
You knew he’d never be the man you needed him to be. His love was beautiful, violent, and ultimately destructive. But a part of you would always belong to him, no matter how much it hurt.
Because some loves aren’t meant to last—they’re meant to burn.
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Ultraviolence- Lana Del Rey
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xxventiswindblumexx · 16 hours ago
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Yandere Venti being jealous of Zhongli because Darling is in love with him and him only see Venti as "cute" and "adorable" see's Venti as a little brother not at all she's attracted Darling is simply memorized by Zhongli ((who could blame her))
Who could?? I couldn't 😌
Shout out to my bestie for keeping me motivated!
⚠WARNING⚠:Yandere tendacies, non-con, unprotected sex
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The warm breeze of Mondstadt’s early spring filled the air, carrying the delicate aroma of blooming dandelions. You stood at the edge of Windrise, the towering oak tree casting a playful shadow over your figure. Venti sat perched on one of its sprawling roots, his lyre resting lazily in his lap. The soft hum of a tune died on his lips as you spoke, your voice tinged with excitement.
“Zhongli is incredible, don’t you think? He has this timeless wisdom... and the way he speaks—it’s like poetry in motion.” You smiled, your eyes distant as though picturing the Liyue Archon right there before you.
Venti’s fingers froze mid-strum. His usually carefree expression faltered for just a moment, but you didn’t notice.
“Ah, yes,” he said, forcing a laugh that came out a little too light. “Old man Zhongli... He certainly has a way with words. Probably from all those centuries of rehearsing.”
You chuckled, taking his comment as harmless jest. “Dont be so mean,” you replied, playfully nudging him. “Besides, I find his company really comforting—like he understands things on a deeper level.”
Something in Venti’s gaze shifted, the glimmer of mischief fading into something darker. He tilted his head, the playful breeze that always seemed to follow him growing still. “And what about my company?” he asked, his voice softer now.
You blinked, turning to look at him properly. “Yours?”
“Yes,” he said, his teal eyes locking onto yours. There was something unnervingly intense about his stare, like he was trying to read every thought in your mind. “Do you find my company comforting?”
“Of course I do,” you replied, brushing it off with a smile. “But it’s different. You’re like a little brother to me, Venti. I know I can always count on you to make me laugh when I’m feeling down.”
The words landed like shards of glass. Venti’s smile remained, but his grip on the lyre tightened until his knuckles turned white. A little brother.
The breeze stirred again, colder this time, wrapping around you like a warning. Venti’s voice was light as he said, “I see. It’s good to know how you see me, Y/N.”
There was something unnerving in the way he said your name, the casual affection you were so used to tinged with something sharper. But before you could reply, he sprang to his feet, his cheerful façade slipping back into place.
“Well then! Shall we return to Mondstadt?” He beamed, slinging the lyre over his back. “The taverns won’t empty themselves!”
You hesitated but nodded, brushing off the odd tension as nothing more than your imagination. Yet, as you walked ahead, Venti lingered behind, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of longing and possessiveness.
‘..She likes Zhongli..’ the thought repeated in his mind like a haunting melody. His carefree smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a shadowed scowl. But that’s okay... I’ll show her just how much better I can be.
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As you and him returned to the town of Mondstadt he wanted to show you something ‘special’ making you laugh “oh? Sure what do you got in mind?” He would only giggle as he lead you to and up the statue of his, making you nervous since it is high up.
It was when you wasn't looking he approched, just as quick and quiet as the wind
“You love me right Y/N?” He asked sweetly before pushing you on your back against the hands of the statue, making your race race as he pine you down.
"Baby, I’d play my lyre until my fingers bled if it made you smile. Now, tell me—would you bleed for me?" He spoke in such a sweet tone as if this was a romantic evening yet it was far from it. He didn't wait for you to answer
“of course you would, my windblume, precious Y/N..no more speak of that.. Old lizard” still stinging at his heart
"Why let his name linger on your lips, my windblume? Am I not the only melody you need to sing?" His free hand downs while the other held your wrists as you struggled
“Venti- what-” “shhh don't speak, I'm the archon here~” with that you felt your lips become dry and couldn't speak as if he commanded your voice to be taken.
His soft but cold hand pulls and rips at your clothing, discarding them on an unsuspecting mondstadter walking late night.
His thumb rolls over her nipples wanting them to perk up, a sick but sly smile plays on his lips “so soft.. And so sweet too, as I expect from my windblume~” his lips connect with your breast, licking and swirling his tongue around it before biting it making you squirm.
Slowly his hand made its way down to your pussy, feeling and rubbing the slit, wanting to create more slick, after all it'll be harsh to go in dry.
“Go on my windblume, show me how much you love me~” pulling his already hardened and twitching cock out he rubbed it against her growing slick, making the head occasionally pop in before slipping back out with a slight whimper, he couldn't help himself he's been dreaming of this. As he presses the tip against your wet hole you squirm and try to speak but nothing comes out as he giggles
“Too late~” before pushing into you, pushing all the way to his hips, savoring the feeling with a beautiful moan he starts to rock his hips. As his hips start to buck faster you could see his elemental marks glow as he couldn't help but drool.
"Please, my windblume, say it—say you love me. I need to hear it, need to feel it. Tell me I’m the only one in your heart, or I might just break without you." He pants and moans out as he held your wrists with a tight grip, for getting his spell he out on, it didn't matter, he couldn't hold back his ‘love's for you, his cock twitching delightfully before gushing cum into your womb, his hips stayed against yours as he held you in a loving embrace, whispering bittersweet promises to you
“Even if the winds carry you far, I’ll follow, no matter where you go. Even if it hurts us both, I’ll never let you go."
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insomniac4000 · 2 days ago
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61 George clarke
is that mine?- George Clarke
The aroma of coffee filled Arthur’s flat as his sister Daisy stood by the counter, scrolling on her phone. She was supposed to be on holiday, but Daisy rarely rested. Arthur had invited her to stay for a few days, partly to get her out of her usual routine and partly to keep her from overthinking.
“Can you not use my French press like a battering ram?” Arthur muttered, walking into the kitchen.
“Oh, good morning to you too, sunshine,” Daisy quipped with a smirk. “Did you forget I’m your guest, or should I start paying rent?”
“Just don’t break anything,” Arthur shot back, rolling his eyes.
It was one of those casual mornings where everyone had their own plan for the day. Arthur had mentioned George and Chris were popping by later, which Daisy had greeted with mock excitement.
George Clarkey had been the source of many jokes over the years. He was always polite and friendly around Daisy, but the running gag about his not-so-subtle crush on her had become a staple of their conversations. Arthur, for his part, hated it.
“Don’t you dare embarrass me today,” Arthur had warned earlier, pointing at her.
“Me? Embarrass you?” Daisy had replied, feigning innocence. “I’m a delight.”
Now, hours later, Arthur was out for an impromptu shoot with Italian Bach and Chris, leaving Daisy to relax. George had a key to Arthur’s flat — for reasons Daisy didn’t quite understand — and she knew he’d likely turn up sooner or later.
The weather had taken a chilly turn, and Daisy, despite her bravado, wasn’t immune to the cold. After rummaging through Arthur’s limited supply of blankets and failing to find anything warm enough, she’d spotted a hoodie slung over the back of the sofa. She pulled it on without thinking.
It was oversized on her, soft and familiar, and it smelled faintly like aftershave. Only when she looked in the mirror did she realize it wasn’t Arthur’s — it was George’s.
“Perfect,” she murmured to herself with a grin, fully aware of how much this would irritate her brother.
The door opened a little later, and George walked in, holding a bag of snacks and a bottle of wine. He was wearing his usual cheeky grin, but it faltered slightly when his eyes landed on Daisy.
“Is that… mine?” he asked, pointing to the hoodie.
Daisy looked down at herself, feigning surprise. “Oh, is it? Sorry, I got cold.”
George raised an eyebrow, setting the snacks on the counter. “And the dozens of other options weren’t good enough?”
She shrugged, giving him an innocent smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What can I say? It looked warm.”
George smirked, his tone light but curious. “Right. Warm. Definitely not trying to wind up your brother or anything.”
“Why, is it working?” Daisy teased, pulling the hoodie’s sleeves over her hands.
George laughed, leaning against the counter as he watched her. “You know, I don’t even think you’re doing it for Arthur anymore.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice lilting with mock offense.
“I think you like annoying me more than him,” he replied, his grin widening.
Daisy tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re not wrong. But maybe I just like seeing you flustered.”
George felt his cheeks flush but tried to play it cool. “Well, mission accomplished. You look ridiculous in that hoodie, by the way.”
“Rude,” Daisy shot back, but she was smiling now, and the banter felt natural. They had always joked around like this, but something about today felt different.
“So,” George said after a moment, his tone softer. “What’s the real reason you’re still here?”
“Arthur invited me,” Daisy said, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “He thinks I work too hard and needed a break. He’s not wrong, I guess.”
George nodded, leaning closer. “You do seem a bit… tired. Everything okay?”
Daisy hesitated, surprised by the concern in his voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… life, you know?”
He nodded again, his gaze lingering on her. “If you ever want to talk…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
They were close now, almost too close. Daisy looked up at him, her hazel eyes searching his face for something she wasn’t sure of.
“You know,” she said softly, “Arthur would absolutely lose it if he saw us right now.”
“Yeah,” George agreed, his voice equally quiet. “But Arthur isn’t here.”
Daisy smiled, and before either of them could second-guess themselves, she leaned up and kissed him.
It wasn’t hurried or awkward; it was gentle and warm, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. George kissed her back, his hands finding her waist, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.
When they pulled apart, Daisy was the first to speak. “Well… that escalated.”
“Yeah,” George said, his face breaking into a grin. “But I’m not complaining.”
Daisy laughed, pulling the hoodie tighter around herself. “Good. Because I’m keeping this.”
“Oh, you think so?” George teased, his confidence returning.
“I know so,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
They both knew Arthur would be furious when he found out — but for now, they didn’t care.
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doomtrooper77 · 1 day ago
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I've got a story to accompany this image. You can read it below. It is not a cute romantic story; it is more like my images. So, if that is not your thing, skip the story. If you do, let me know what you think of it.
Wrong Side of the Tracks
I had been in the bar for an hour already. It was one of those places off the beaten track where everyone went from what some would call the wrong side of the tracks. Mind you, this place wasn’t rundown. It just wasn’t fancy. The long wooden bar was polished, and the stools were worn but comfortable. Booths lined the wall opposite the bar. In the back of the bar were some big couches and chairs in an open area. Every seating surface was made of that old-school leather that got patina but never grew thin, never ripped. It was all cushioned just right for sitting and drinking the night away. Behind the bar was bottle after bottle of every liquor you could think of. Cases full of bottles of beer and more than a few on tap. However, don’t come in asking for some fancy new-fangled Microbrew bullshit. This wasn’t that kind of place.
Most people who came here were working-class people who came in for drinks and bar food. People who worked with their hands or on their feet all day. You had some white-collar folks sprinkled in, but mostly people who grew up in the neighborhood who managed to get a job downtown but still came back to visit friends and family in the area. That’s not to say it also didn’t have more seedier visitors. It was also a place where locals on the "wrong" side of the law congregated. Depending on the day of the week and the time, there was little you couldn’t find here if you knew the right person to ask.
You need a loan. There was a table in the back where some gentlemen of Italian persuasion sat most days. They were happy to give you some money for a hefty fee. If you needed something to bring you up or down, there was usually someone you could talk to to provide you with whatever you needed. But they couldn’t sell it in the bar. Business of that sort was not allowed in the bar; discussing it was different. If you needed someone’s leg broken, there was someone who you could talk to about that.
The bar was situated behind several warehouses and buildings in an old light industrial part of the city. You had to know where it was to find it and drive a maze of access roads and streets to find it. The bar had an address but didn’t appear on Waze or Google Maps.  The lot was big enough for everything from Harleys to big rigs.  The lot is dim, with most of the light coming from other businesses outside its perimeter.
I was on my 3rd beer when I heard the Harley outside. It was cold in the Midwest in November, but the hardcore bikers rode in the cold air. I was sitting midway down the bar when the door opened, and the crowd started parting. People quickly moved aside, even to the point where they pressed against others to get out of the way of the approaching figure. I got a glimpse of him just as he passed. I thought, “Jesus, he's gotten even bigger!”  He walked past, and you could feel his aura move with him. Predator. It was the only way to describe it. Some construction workers were drinking a few feet down, and one of the bigger guys either didn’t see him coming or had decided he was the alpha in the room. The biker didn’t change his step; his massive shoulders plowed through the big construction worker, pushing him into his buddies and spilling his beer down his shirt.
“Hey FUCK WAD, watch where you’re going!” The big construction worker said. He was big, about 6’5, and easily 280-290 solid pounds. You can tell he was used to being the big guy in the room. The area around them quieted as the biker turned around and took two steps back. I got a good look at him then. He was about 6’2, so shorter than the construction worker. However, everything else about the biker made the construction worker seem small. He had actual doorway-wide shoulders.  Arms are truly as thick as a healthy man's leg. Massive pecs encased under the leather vest. His lats push his massive arms away from his body at a freaking 45-degree angle. A neck so massive that it seemed like his huge shoulders just met his head somehow.  The part of my brain that was pretty damn good at calculating a man's size and weight told me at least 375 actual pounds.
One of the construction workers whispered “shit” as he pulled on his friend's arm. The bigger construction worker was wiping beer from his shirt and shook his friend's arm off as he looked up. Both men’s eyes met, and something happened. Guys know the feeling when you are in a situation where you quickly find out that you are not the alpha in the room. The biker took another step forward and pushed his chest into that of the construction worker. The biker tilted his head to that angle some guys do when trying to figure out how badly they will hurt someone. Not if, but how much. Everything around them quieted and stopped.
I could only see part of the construction workers' faces, but I could see the anger drain quickly away to be replaced by fear.  The Biker saw it and stepped into him more, pushing him back on his friends. Something like a wave of heat seemed to pass over me, and I could feel the raw dominance coming off that biker. It was like being on the edge of a violent storm. You can feel the air pressure change and smell the lightning as it crashes just feet away. Or it is like being on the edge of a vast forest fire, watching a fire tornado spin feet away and your skin both dry and slick with sweat simultaneously.
I felt my balls shrink up and throb at the same time.  “Sorry. Sorry.. man, I’m sorry,” the Big Construction worker was saying. No longer meeting the biker’s gaze, he said, “Sorry I bumped into ya. My fault. Sorry, sorry.”  The Biker stayed crowded in his space for another 15 seconds, stepped back, and looked at the construction workers' buddies, who all looked away. He turned to walk to the back of the bar to the area where the couches and chairs were. There was a dangerous and knowing smirk on his face.
Within seconds, the bar's sounds returned to normal, and people moved on as if nothing had happened—except for the construction workers. Those guys threw money on the bar, paid their tab, and quickly left.
However, I was now intrigued—no, make that obsessed—with the monster in the back of the bar. Over the next hour, I made my way down the bar toward the back of the room. I could see he was sitting with several other bikers and rough-looking men. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing but could see them on the sly. He filled one of the club chairs, his mass covering it completely. He wore this leather vest, black jeans, and big black harness boots. Out of the group, he talked the least.
A couple in the booth was just on the edge of the sitting area, which had a perfect view.  They left when I almost convinced myself that my little spy game had gone as far as it should. Before they could get two steps away from the booth, I slid into it. The waitress came over, and I got another beer.  I took out my phone and pretended to be scrolling on it while I was sneaking peaks at the monster. My cock was so hard in my pants that I had to squirm around a bit to give it room.  Knowing I might never see this guy again, I discreetly turned on my camera and videoed him. I kept making gestures like I was scrolling and typing, but I was filming his every twitch and flex.
I ended up drinking another two beers while getting more and more footage. The angle I had the camera meant I really couldn’t see my screen. I might have noticed when he started looking at me if I had. Only when I looked up to sneak another peek I saw two pools of steel looking at me.  Eyes so bright and grey that they seemed to glow, and they were looking at me. Not glancing but staring at me. I could feel the weight of his attention. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” was all I could think.  As nonchalantly as possible, I slowly angled my phone away, and while pretending to be texting, I shut off the camera. It was time to go. I couldn’t dare look up at him to see if he was still looking, but I knew. I could feel it—the heat and pressure of his attention.
I had two problems. My cock was still rock hard, and I needed to piss badly. So badly, I thought that if I tried to make it to my car, I would piss myself. SHIT. I took out my wallet and threw 50 bucks and an OK tip on the table. Every second felt like my bladder was going to burst. SHIIIT. Taking a deep breath, I causually stood up with my hand in my pocket, trying to hold my boner down, and started walking across the bar to the hallway with the bathrooms. My brain screamed don’t look at him, my cock, on the other hand, throbbed under my fingers and said, come on one last look.
Glancing in his direction as I walked past the men who sat in front of him, I saw his head turn and track me. Like some goddamn tiger or something. I got to the bathroom and made it to the urinal, and let out 5 beers worth of piss. My hard cock throbbing in my hand the entire time. When I finished, my cock had gone to semi-hard. Stuffing it back in my pants, I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and told myself to walk out of the bar. Walk out of the bathroom and straight out the bar, not looking at him or anyone. Out the bar and to my car.  Go home. Go home and watch all of the videos you took of that beast. My cock twitched and started to harden again.
I opened the door, turned to go down the hallway, and ran into a wall of beef. He stood there, his massive body filling the dim hallway, waiting. I bounced off him and stumbled back two steps. I looked up at his face and those eyes. My body froze. I can’t explain it. I FROOZE. He looked at me, his head tilted as if he were deciding something. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. For seconds, I couldn’t say anything. Then I remembered what happened with the guy up front. I quickly said, “Sorry. Excuse me for bumping into you.”  
He started moving toward me. I backed up a step, thinking he was headed to the bathroom. But he wasn’t. He kept walking past the bathroom, and now he was against me. His massive body pushes me forward, my backward pace struggling to keep up. “Uh wait, hey, umm, excuse me.” Every nonsensical word came out of my mouth, and he kept pushing me back down the hallway. I started to fall backward, and I felt this massive hand grab my shirt and keep me upright. With no effort, he lifted me on my toes and carried me down the darkening hall. I kept mumbling until he said, “Shut up.” He didn’t yell. He gave an order and expected it to be followed.
We turned a corner and went down another short hall. There was an exit door. He pushed me through it into the night. Behind the bar, it was virtually pitch black, only lit by moonlight and his eyes. He walked us 50 feet behind a brick shed and pushed me against the wall.  His beard split into a hard grin, and he said, “Phone.”
Stunned and terrified, I said, “What?”
I have never had anyone grab me by my throat and lift me off the ground before. His massive hand clamped around my neck; his other hand went to my pants pocket and ripped out my phone.  Still holding me up with one hand, his other expertly clicks the button to turn the screen on. It was locked. He looked at me and then at the phone. I expected he would demand the lock code. Instead, he turned my head to face the phone and held it up. Even in the dim moonlight, it recognized my face and unlocked it.
The massive hand that wasn’t throttling me expertly moved over the screen. His big fingers press and swipe my screen. The screen lit up his face. Harsh, rough, brutally handsome. In a few seconds, I heard the sound of the bar playing from my speaker.  His hand tightened on my throat.  I watched his face as he scrubbed through the video. His brutal features were darkening. The aura of potential violence made the air thick.
He turned the phone so I could see the video playing, which showed him staring at me and the camera from minutes ago. He pulled me down and leaned all of his weight into me, crushing me to the shed wall. He leaned in where our faces were touching. His steel grey eye was less than an inch from my own, staring into my eye like a laser beam. His beard rubbed against mine as his mouth was next to my ear. His hot, angry breath blew across my ear and neck.  It was intimate. Fear can be intimate.
“Who the fuck are you, and why are you videoing me.” He said. His voice was deep, and his words were spoken normally, but the power behind them made me shiver.  My brain went blank. Words just tumbled from my mouth. Apologies. Explanations. Gibberish. I could see the rage ignite in his eyes as he pressed himself against me fully and repeated himself more forcefully. He asked again, and the anger and potential violence in his voice made my legs weak.
Then froze.  His eyes stayed locked to mine. His head tilted. He let go of my neck and reached down between us.  My brain may have been terrified and incapable of action; however, my cock was having the time of its life.  It could care less that this 390-pound monster was about to rip us apart. All it cared about was that 390-pound monster crushing and grinding me into the wall behind us. I felt the biker’s massive hand grab my hard cock.
The heat in his eyes was still there, in suspension.  Lifting my phone back up, I watched as he expertly tapped, swiped, and scrubbed through my phone. We stood that way for almost 3-4 minutes. I heard numerous videos I had saved to my phone from Leather sites, Raw Fuck Club, videos saved from Twitter and Pornhub. He flicked through them, and all the while, my throbbing cock was crushed by his hand.
Looking back at me, his eyes were still full of heat. “Is that it puppy? You getting some more jerk off material on your phone?” My fear is now joined with shame. SHIT. Shame giving me the power to look away.  His big hand squeezes my cock painfully, and he says, “I asked you a question, boy! You’re videoing me so you can jerk this thing off later?” His hand squeezed and pulled my cock roughly through my jeans. It throbbed and twitched with excitement.
I mumbled, “Yes.”
His face gets close to his mind, and the anger is back in his voice, “Speak up, boy! You got the balls to be filming me for your personal pleasure, be man enough to say it!”
“Yes, that is why I was filming you,” I said.
“Why me?” He said, his voice clearly expecting an answer.
I paused. Thinking of what to say.  Decided on the truth. “I’ve never seen anyone like you. As big as you are.  As tough as you are. As strong as you are.  As mean and scary.“ I stopped myself from going further.
He let go of my cock and pressed himself hard against me, crushing me more than before. “You like’em big and scary, huh?” His face was close to mind. “I’m 400 fucking pounds of the meanest and scariest motherfucker you gonna ever meet, boy.”  He pushed his mouth close to my ear and said, “I do mean and scary shit for fun. Are you sure you want that?” He fucking growled like a beast in my ear.
My cock didn’t give my brain time to think, so I quietly said, “Yes.”
He growled in my ear and crushed me even more against the wall. “Mean and scary it is.” He said.
Spinning me around, he pushed me face-first into the brick wall. He reached around, grabbed the front of my pants, and unbuckled my belt. He slid the belt off. Before I knew what was happening, he had made a loop out of it, put it around my neck, and pulled it tight. “There we go, puppy needs a leash.” He said. I was up on my toes. My skin was hot and cold. Excited and scared.
I felt his other hand grab the back of my jeans and yank. There was a ripping sound, and I tried to grab his hand to keep him from ripping my jeans. “Hey, I can take them down…” I never finished that sentence because I felt a fist hit me in the kidneys. Bright pain lanced up my side, and my legs went weak.
Pressing up against me, he said, “Understand this puppy. You’ve got three jobs right now. One, do what I say and nothing but what I say. Two, do whatever you can to make sure I enjoy using you however I want. Three, Survive. Do one and two well, and three shouldn’t be a problem. You fuck around thinking this is some date, and I can show you a whole other level of mean and scary. Do you understand me, boy?”
“ Yes, Sir.” I said.
He laughed roughly as his hand grabbed my jeans and ripped a big hole in the center. His hand reached through the hole to grab my shorts and grab one of the ass straps of my jock. He chuckled, “You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”
I felt him step back and heard a zipper. He growled deeply again and pressed himself against me. I could feel his hot throbbing cock rub against my ass. He ground his hips back and forth and side to side. Fuck, it was huge. I could feel it throb and twitch as it moved across my skin. He slid it up my back and around my hips so I could feel how big it was.  I whimpered a bit in lust and fear. Leaning in, he growled, “Everything about me is big and scary.”
He slides his now hard cock between my ass cheeks, stretching the cheeks apart with-it’s size. I feel him let out a deep, growling breath as he crushes me between him and the wall.  I felt the big, veiny flesh slide up and down my hole. Yanking on the belt, he growls, “Open up.” He pushes his way in. Fuck its, huge. So damn thick. It just keeps sliding and sliding in. My breath is coming in short gasps. He chuckles as it pushes all the way in. I can feel his pubic hair and zipper teeth on my ass.  I want to yell, but the belt is pulled tight on my neck.
“That’s it, puppy. Take it. Take it all.” He says, grinding his massive body against mine. His cock throbbing deep inside me. Soon, he got a steady stroke going. His strokes are solid and deep. His powerlifting hips alternate from jackhammering into me to crushing me against the wall between him and the shed. He’s growling and breathing behind me like an animal. My legs are weak from the pounding.
I feel him loosen his grip on the belt, grab my hair, and pull my head to the side. I feel his thick beard rub across my neck. I moan as he rubs across that spot. The spot that makes me squirm when the right man finds it. He knows and licks across it. My body shakes. Then I felt his mouth bite down on that spot. Every nerve in my body cuts on and off. His hungry mouth bites and gnaws at my neck. Never breaking the skin. Holding me in place as his massive body goes into overdrive. Powerfucking me against the wall. I feel like a rhino is ramming into me. Time blurs and I don’t know if it has been 5 minutes or 15, but this monster has stamina. His pounding has never stopped.
I’ve never been used like this. I feel his stroke change, and by the 4th stroke, he explodes inside of me. Shot after shot, painting my insides. So much cum. So much I can feel it leaking around his cock and down my legs. He keeps his cock inside me until the absolute last twitch is done. When he pulls it out, I can feel more of it soaking my jeans.
I feel him step back and hear him say, “Turn around, boy.”  My legs are weak and wobbly. I feel like I have just lost a boxing match or been used like a tackling dummy.
He’s looking at me. Fuck he seems even bigger now. A huge fucking shadow in the moonlight.
I can barely see his face, but his eyes shine as he says. “You are not fucking done.” Looking down and then back up, he says. “Clean me up.” I look down, and his cock is still semi-hard and twitching. “You can get on your knees, or I can put you there. Get to work.”
Getting to my knees, I lean forward and take him in my mouth. Just like when he was fucking me against the wall, his hands were soon clamped on the side of my head, and his hips were thrusting his cock deep into my throat. The more I choke, cough, and sputter, the more he likes it. By the time he was done, I was a messy fleshlight. He dumped three more loads down my throat. His big dick was like a firehose. I was so full, weak, and used that I just lay on the ground.
I felt his boot push me over to my back. His huge shadow was standing over me. He puts his boot on my chest, bends down, and shines my phone in my face again. He turns it back around, and I watch as he flicks through it again, stopping a few times.  “You didn’t do lousy tonight, boy. You managed to survive.” Putting real pressure on his boot and my chest, he repeats my home address, work address, and that of my sister. Nothing more, his threat was implicit.  “You better start working out more because next time, tonight will look like foreplay.” Then I watched his massive hand squeeze, and he crushed my phone like it was nothing. It sparked, and smoke started coming out of the cracked sides. I watch him lean back and throw the now burning hunk of glass and metal far further than anyone should be able to. “You need a new phone, puppy.” He says as he walks off into the darkness.  In the next few minutes, I heard a Harley start up and drive away.
Sometime later, I managed to get up and find my way to the parking lot. I smile as I gingerly get in my car, thinking about the cloud backup I have turned on for pictures and video on my phone. I do need a new phone. My dick twitches in anticipation.
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