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saveyourblood · 28 days ago

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Pretty Boy - Ch 5 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

Chapter Summary: There's a sudden divide between you and Buck.

A/N: Me? Desperate for validation? It's more likely than you think Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: none

You make your way through more of the rubble, taking frequent breaks in an attempt to conserve your energy. It’s probably been less than an hour, but it feels like you’ve been trapped for days. You used most of your effort to free Russ, which proved futile, so now you’re simply exhausted.

At some point, you see a glimpse of light between two pieces of crumbled concrete. Using the blunt side of your axe, you begin chipping away at the space. More light begins to break through. The sight causes you to catch your second wind, and you begin swinging harder. Eventually, you make a hole big enough for you to crawl through.

You climb over some of the bigger pieces of the fallen structure and slip between others. You sneak between a few vehicles. You keep walking, though you aren’t sure what you’re looking for. Something in you gut is pulling you in this direction, and you have nothing else to go off of, so you’re going with it.

You hear a cough.

Your head snaps in the direction of the sound. You start moving so quickly that you stumble a little and have to slow yourself down so you don’t break an ankle. You shine your flashlight to the side. It lands on a little girl. She squints her eyes and lifts a hand to block out the brightness.

“Kat?” You ask.

She nods.

You laugh. You laugh with joy. You laugh with relief. You laugh until a few tears spring into your eyes. You cut yourself off—no way are you breaking down in front her. You’ve both come this far, and you’re going to see each other to the end. If you’re saving anyone today, it’s her.

You reach into the inner pocket of your jacket, eternally grateful that you took on the added weight. “You looking for this?”

It’s her shoe.

Kat smiles and nods again.

Kat’s tired, and so are you, but you carry her on your back anyway. You swear that, in the distance, you hear a car alarm, so that’s the direction you head in.

“What if we can’t get out?” Kat asks quietly.

“What? Hey, come on, don’t start talking like that now,” you gently scold. “We’ve already made it through the hard part!”

“I guess…” She says, unsure.

You hear the shifting of rubble, but only a little. You think you might hear voices, too. You take off in that direction.

Concrete shifts, and you see more light—a lot of light. Like, your headlamp times ten. You scramble towards it, ducking a little so as to not hurt Kat.

As the dust settles, you can make out at least ten firefighters standing around the scene. You can’t help but smile.

“Hello fellas,” You say, taking a few more steps forward.

A firefighter from a different crew helps Kat off of you. Your attention immediately focuses on two particular firefighters in front of you, both of which have ‘118’ on their caps.

“Welcome back,” Buck greets with a grin.

You laugh and stumble forward right into his arms. Once again, you find yourself holding back tears. You feel someone pat your back and leave his hand there, and you don’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

You make it back to the triage area, Kat walking in front of you. The moment she sees her parents, she takes off running. On instinct, you jog behind her, but when you see her collapse into her parents’ arms, you stop and simply watch.

They look over at you and nod. You smile and nod back.

Hen insists on looking you over, testing everything from your range of motion to your vision. Even you surprise yourself a little when you pass with flying colors. Hen steals a quick hug before she gets back to work. You just sit there, dumbfounded. You’re exhausted, but you’re okay. You’re alive.

“Hey you,” Buck says, taking a seat next to you.

Somehow, that’s all it takes for the floodgates to break open.

“Woah, hey, come here,” Buck wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You wrap an arm around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. You breathe out a few sobs but slowly quiet yourself. You can feel Buck’s lips pressed to the top of your head. You sit up straight, wiping your eyes. Buck keeps his arm around you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, shaking your head a little. “Just… rough day.”

“Russ?” Buck asks quietly.

You smile sadly and nod, a few more tears escaping in the process. “You know he wasn’t even scheduled to work? He just heard about everything and wanted to help. And now he’s dead. Because I couldn’t save him.”

“But you were there for him,” Buck points out, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Even if you couldn’t save him, you were there for him. He didn’t die alone. You did that.”

“Yeah, I guess. It just doesn’t feel like enough, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

You clear your throat a little. “When I was alone and thought you guys might not find me, I made recordings. I wanted the people I love to hear from me one last time. Can you guess how many I made?”

Buck just watches you. His expression is a mix of intrigue and sympathy.

“Five,” you answer, even though he doesn’t ask. “I made five recordings, one for each of you. That’s it.”

“What about your parents? Siblings?”

“My mom died when she gave birth to me,” you answer. “My dad fell into a bottle. I haven’t spoken to him since I moved away from home seven years ago. People tell me he changed after she died, but… that’s the only way I know him. It makes me feel like I got cheated out of both my parents instead of just one.”

The two of you sit in silence. It’s broken when you laugh.

“I don’t know why the hell I’m telling you all of this,” you chuckle as more tears form. “I guess I just need someone to know that… this job is quite literally my entire life. It’s my passion, my work, my home, and my family. Most of the time, I feel lucky. On days like today, though, it just… scares the hell out of me. Because I’m either gonna die doing what I love, or doing what I love will kill me. I don’t know which one’s worse.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck agrees softly. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do it with, either.”

Once you all returned to the station, you hopped in the shower. When you got out, Buck was waiting for you in the locker room. He insisted on driving you home, making sure you were okay. When he told you, you rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled. The last thing you want to do is navigate LA traffic, so you accept his offer.

When you both started to leave, you noticed Eddie was making phone calls and texts. You learned that he was trying to find a ride to Christopher’s school; he hasn’t had the chance to buy a vehicle yet.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asks again as you all get to the parking lot.

“Just get in the damn car, Eddie,” you say.

The ride is a little tense. Eddie touched base with some of the school staff, so he knows Christopher is okay, but it isn’t the same as seeing it for himself. He taps his phone against the car windowsill. You insisted on sitting in the back, and for good reason: you can already feel yourself dozing off.

Buck pulls over, and you look up to see you’ve arrived at the school. Almost before the car is in ‘park’, Eddie flings open the door and runs up the stairs. Christopher is standing in the front hall, a staff member off to the side. Eddie picks him up in a hug, spinning him around.

“They’re really cute,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Buck is too busy watching them to even register what you said.

Eddie thanks the staff member before opening the door for Chris. The two make their way back to the car, Christopher a little bit in front of Eddie. For a kid with crutches, he moves quickly; the poor kid is probably ready to go home.

Eddie opens the side door for his son, setting the crutches on the floor. With his father’s help, Christopher joins you in the backseat.

“Chris, these are my friends,” Eddie says, pointing at you and Buck as he introduces you both.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile.

“My dad talks about you. A lot,” Christopher says.

You giggle in surprise. “Does he, now?”

Even in the dark, you can see Eddie’s face get red. “‘You’ as in the 118,” he clarifies.

Buck shakes his head and laughs softly as he pulls away from the curb.

This might be the dumbest call you’ve ever been to, and that’s saying something.

A bunch of women decided to get drunk at 11:30 in the morning, and as a fun drunk activity, one of them stuck her head in a tailpipe. The only problem is she couldn’t get it out, so now it’s the LAFD’s problem. Medically, she’s clear, so you and Hen stand back and let the boys do their thing. Unfortunately, the drunk girl has drunk friends and said drunk friends are relentlessly hitting on Eddie and Buck.

“What are you so tense for?” Hen asks.

“I’m not.”

You both know it’s a lie. Until she said it, though, you didn’t realize that your jaw was clenched and your brow furrowed. You roll your shoulders and turn your neck a few times, hoping it relaxes your muscles.

The women are bothering you. And it’s really stupid and childish, especially considering that neither Buck nor Eddie is your boyfriend. They’re just your coworkers, so you have literally no right to get upset that women besides yourself find them attractive.

“I uh, I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” Eddie politely rejects one of them. “I have a son.”

“I’m gonna puke!” The woman says from inside the tailpipe.

“You better not!” One of her friends shouts. “These fire guys are totally hot.”

You can feel your jaw start to tense again.

After getting the woman free from the tailpipe, you all begin to make your way back to the engine. Buck and Eddie are a few steps in front of you. They’re trying to be discrete, but you make out every word.

“Hey, so is your son really the reason you don’t date?” Buck asks.

“That, and.. They weren’t my type,” Eddie shrugs.

“I’m talking in general,” Buck continues.

“It’s complicated when you have a kid.”

“Come on, that’s a weak excuse.”

The conversation is cut short when Eddie gets a phone call. He takes a few steps away while you and Buck linger behind. You don’t have to hear anything to see Eddie’s body language change. Buck sends you a knowing glance.

It’s about Christopher.

It’s always weird going past the ER of a hospital. It feels like you’re in forbidden territory, like you’ve stepped outside your bounds. The nice thing about having few family members is you barely have to cross the picket line.

You, Buck, and Eddie get off the elevator. Eddie is a few steps ahead and quickly sees his aunt in a nearby waiting area. They chat a little, and you can see that Christopher is standing near a few nurses, completely eating up the attention. It makes you smile.

Eddie’s aunt explains that it’s his grandmother who’s in the hospital—broken hip. When she was watching Christopher and called him inside, she slipped on a porch step. Christopher had to call 911.

“Who’s this with you?” His aunt asks, turning her attention to you and Buck.

“We work together,” Eddie explains after saying your names.

“Mmm, I thought you just dressed alike.”

“This is my Aunt Josefina—Pepa,” Eddie introduces.

“Hi,” you both say politely.

Pepa begins to lecture Eddie about leaving Christopher with his grandmother. You can tell Eddie feels bad, but you can also tell he has no other options. He dismisses himself from the conversation by meeting up with Christopher.

“Must be rough,” Buck remarks.

“Raising any child alone is rough,” Pepa agrees.

“Eddie’s a saint,” You praise.

Pepa smiles. It’s bittersweet. “I pray for him anyway.”

Christopher ends up spending some time at the station, and it’s one of the best shifts you’ve had in a long time. Eddie’s aunt was busy working when his shift started, and with his grandmother still in the hospital, he truly had nowhere else to take him. It was either bringing his son to work or calling in from work to watch his son. Eddie chose the former.

You’re able to take him on a simple MVC call with no suspected injuries. As you all work to free the drivers and passengers, Bobby explains everything to Christopher. He’s standing on the ground while Christopher stands on part of the firetruck, holding one of the rails for stability. Bobby has an arm around him for the same reason.

When you get back to the station, you make him a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. He approves. Then, Chim swoops in and teaches him how to play pinball. At some point, all of you are standing around the firepole, helping Christopher slide down it.

Pepa shows up, and the fun is over. Before Eddie walks them out, he pulls Cap into a hug. You and Buck look at each other and smile.

“This was a really nice idea, Buck.”

“Eh, I figured we could all use a little stress relief,” Buck shrugs.

“Well, clearly Eddie appreciates it. I guess it really does take a village.”

Buck nods in response and begins to walk away.

“I’m thinking of going to nursing school,” you blurt out.

He turns back to face you. “What?”

You clear your throat. This wasn’t how you planned on telling him, just springing it on him in a random conversation. You knew that if you didn’t say something soon, he would hear it from someone else first. You definitely didn’t want that.

“You remember that conversation we had at breakfast a few weeks ago? You know, the one about what we’d be doing if we didn’t work at the 118?”

“You wanna be a nurse?” Buck frowns. “I mean, nurses are great; Maddie’s a nurse. Or, well, she was. You just… don’t seem the type.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve kind of always been interested in flight nursing. You know, like, going up in a helicopter, responding to scene calls, that sort of thing,” you explain as you wring your hands.

“So that means you wouldn’t work here anymore.”

“That’s… a long ways down the line. Like, at least 18 months, probably closer to 2 years. Bobby said I could always stay on casually, pick up shifts whenever I want.”

“You already talked to Bobby,” Buck rubs his neck. “You must be pretty serious about this, then.”

“I guess,” you shrug. You’re trying to sound casual, but the thumping of your heart in your chest doesn’t cease.

Buck smiles. The expression doesn’t meet his eyes. “I hope everything works out the way you want it to.”

This time, he walks away for good, leaving you with a bitter taste on your tongue.

The 118 is called to a helicopter crash site. The pilot tried to make an emergency landing in a park football field but landed in the bleachers instead. After Buck pulls one of the victims from the scene, you do an assessment and quickly realize that, by some miracle, she’s completely fine.

Buck makes his way over to the two of you. “Hey, do me a favor and say ‘And on the 405, speeds are under five miles an hour, making your morning commute a rough one.’"

You look over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I-I know that voice. It's, uh, it's Taylor Kelly reporting, right? Skywitness News Eight,” Buck says, pointing back to the helicopter.

“That’s me,” Taylor says with a soft chuckle.

“Wow. Um, it's weird to hear that voice come out of a face.”

Taylor laughs again. “Thank you?”

They’re flirting. You clench your teeth together so hard you think your jaw might pop. You start randomly tossing supplies back into your bag, zip it up, and hop back into the rig before you can hear the end of the conversation.

The next time you see Taylor, she’s at the station. She doesn’t come alone, either—a man holding a television camera is a few steps behind her.

The first one to approach her is Buck, of course. Then Eddie, Chim, Hen, and finally, Bobby. You watch everything happen from the loft; there’s no way you’ll willingly engage in whatever conversation they’re having.

Bobby makes his way up the stairs.

“What’s all that about?” You ask as he walks by.

“Ms. Kelly wants to do a story on the 118,” Bobby says.

You frown. “Is she even allowed to film in here?”

“The chief’s office is on hold. Something tells me that we’ll be seeing quite a bit of her and her cameraman the next few days.”

Bobby’s already gone, but you still roll your eyes.

Taylor manages to track down everyone and get an interview: everyone except you and Captain Nash. She follows along on a few calls, on which you can mostly ignore her. It's much harder to ignore her when she corners you in the loft.

You’re eating breakfast alone at the kitchen island when Taylor bombards you, her cameraman beside her like always. She gives you a massive grin, and something about how it looks makes you nauseous.

“Can we have a few minutes with you?” She asks, still smiling.

“No,” you respond simply.

“...No?”

“No,” you repeat, taking a sip of your coffee. It’s cold.

“Look, I know this is probably a little awkward and uncomfortable-”

“It’s not,” you interrupt as you stand. “I just don’t want to talk to you.”

You head towards the coffee pot to warm your cup. You refill it and take a sip as you lean against the counter. Taylor just stares at you.

“I want you to know I only have one goal here: to tell a story. Your story,” Taylor says, forcing the smile back on her face.

“Oh, really?” You ask, setting your coffee on the counter behind you. You push off of the counter so you can approach Taylor. “And uh, how much money do you think you can make telling my story?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what this about, right?” you challenge. “You have a chance to change the trajectory of your career. You can go from the girl who talks about traffic to the woman who sheds a light on the unsung heroes. You’d be stupid not to jump on that opportunity.”

Taylor looks at you. “I suppose.”

“And I would be stupid if I actually believed you have good intentions,” you continue, “because you don’t give a damn about us. You don’t care about the 118 or what we do everyday—you care about yourself. So no, I don’t have a minute and I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You missed the show.”

You open your locker with a huff. You shrug as you pick up your shoes. “Bummer.”

“You were barely in it,” Buck continues. “Something tells me that wasn’t exactly an accident.”

You take a seat on the bench so you can change your shoes. “What makes you say that?”

The only sound in the room is you kicking off your boots and slipping into your converse. You begin tying the laces, then pause.

You look over your shoulder at Buck. “You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Buck looks everywhere but your face.

“You know what I said to her,” you say. It isn’t even a question: you can tell by how he’s acting.

“I just don’t understand why you were so rude to her.”

“Oh my god, seriously, Buck?!” you say, standing up to face him. “Her?!”

He crosses his arms. “What does that mean?”

You scoff and shake your head. “It means you haven’t changed at all.”

“What?”

You pick up your boots and toss them in your locker, which you slam shut. “You heard me.”

“That’s not fair,” he argues, moving his hands to his pockets.

“It’s not?” You ask, cocking your head. “I’m pretty sure a few months ago, you were sleeping with whatever woman fell for the whole ‘hero’ act. So how exactly have you changed?”

“Why are you so pissed at me?” Buck asks defensively. “I mean, it’s not like you care enough to stick around.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. “How dare you throw that in my face.”

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re wrong,” you confirm, stepping towards him. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I haven’t even applied to anything.”

“If it’s not my business, then why’d you make it my business?” Buck provokes. “Why’d you even tell me?”

“Because I thought you were my friend!” you shout. “I thought you would be happy for me!”

“Be happy that you want to leave?”

“Be happy that I want more for myself!”

“Well, I’m not happy,” Buck says, crossing his arms again. “You say that we’re your family, and then a few weeks later, you’re talking about other jobs. I mean, was that just a bunch of bullshit?”

You scoff again, and this time, angry tears fill your eyes. “Fuck you, Evan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, turning to the door.

There are a million things you want to say. But then, you remember: you’ve already said them.

You reach into your pocket and come back with your phone. As Buck walks away, you hit the ‘play’ button on a recording you never wanted to listen to.

'Pretty Boy,' your voice in the recording crackles.

Buck stops and turns around.

'Evan Buckley… where do I even start with you? I’m not gonna lie: I really didn’t like you when we first met. And that’s funny, because now, you’re probably one of the most important people in my life. You definitely proved me wrong, man: you were good. You are good. And you have to keep being good, okay? I might not be there to see it anymore, but you should still do it. Do it for the both of us, will ya?'

You hit the ‘pause’ button and stuff your phone back into your pocket.

“You can be pissed at me all you want, but don’t you ever say that I don’t care about this job,” you whisper as you walk towards him. You poke a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever say that I don’t care about you.”

“I-”

Your shoulder slams into his as you walk out.

Ch 6

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 show #911 on abc #911 reader insert #evan buckley/reader #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader #Buddie x reader #buddie x reader #i can write #pretty boy fic

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seokmattchuus · 1 month ago

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Prove It - Seok Matthew (Extended Ver.)

A/n: 1. Ignore the gif, I found it in my files and decided it was The One™ 2. A single person asked for this and who am I to deny them (I have had the worst writers block, and this was doable). You're welcome, or I'm sorry, I don't know. 3. I don't remember if this was proofread.

Coming home early wasn't an often occurrence. Being a teacher, you were technically supposed to be home an hour after dismissal, but realistically, you weren't home till early evening. Today, however, was a half day, and you were more than happy to be able to spend the rest of your day cuddled up with your boyfriend.

You didn't expect to walk into an empty home, but you perked up when you heard him on the phone in your shared bedroom. You excitedly placed your bags down and made your way to the room, your hand reaching for the door before the sound of the other person speaking up stopped you.

"Does it ever kill you that she's two years older?" You overheard Hanbin through Matthew's phone. "I mean. Everyone knows you like being called 'oppa', are you okay with her never calling you that?"

"It's not like she hasn't called me it before." Matthew scoffed. "She's called me 'oppa' plenty of times." He was lying, but Hanbin didn't know that.

"Playfully, probably." Hanbin's voice flattened.

"Dude. It's not a deal breaker." Matthew defended. "So what if she doesn't say it? It's not like I'll die if I don't hear it." He paused. "Besides, she's a foreigner. She barely uses honorifics with anyone."

"I see how your ears perk up when girls call y-"

You quickly removed yourself from earshot. Your eyes quickly scanning for the quietest way out of the area.

You slowly made your way back to the door before opening it and closing it harsher than before so he could hear.

"Babe, I'm home!" You called, staying in place in case he made his way towards you.

There was a moment of silence before you heard him coming out of the room.

"You're home early." He smiled at you. He really didn't look like he was having the conversation he was. "I was expecting you a little later."

"You say that like you had plans." You raised a playful brow. "Don't tell you threw her in the closet?"

"Closet?" He scoffed as he made his way towards you, throwing his arms around you. "She jumped out the window when she heard you pull up."

You both laughed as he placed a kiss on your cheek, and you wondered if he really meant what he said.

"So why are you early?" He smiled as he pulled away, leading the both of you to the couch.

You'd never used honorifics, he was right about that, but you wanted to test just how 'okay' he was with you not calling him anything.

"I was grading papers with Taekwoon oppa." You scanned his face for a reaction. "He's been helping me a lot with Korean. I'm even getting more comfortable with honorifics." You put a smile on your face.

"Oh?" He said, his tone unreadable. "Who else do use honorifics with?"

His voice trailed off and it killed you inside. You shouldn't have said anything, but why wouldn't he just tell you to call him that to begin with? You would have gladly done it. But with how he seems to want to keep it hidden, how could you bring it up first? What if he said he didn't mean it or brushed you off?

"Just him for now." You nodded. "Everyone else around me is either my age or younger." You shrugged. It was true. The school you worked for was relatively new, so it was full of mostly new graduates. The only people older than you were admin, but you rarely ever ran into them because Taekwoon handled everything as the head teacher.

There was a silence that took over and you shuffled in your spot.

"What made him the first guy you use honorifics with?" His gave you a glace, a firm hand falling on your knee. It would have been harmless had you not known the context.

"He takes care of me a lot." You started, and his hand on you tightened. "He's also always looking out for me. He took the blame for a couple of my fuck ups, too."

You paused as you thought about your next statement.

"And he's not a 'guy' to you. He's a hyung." You corrected him, trying to sound like you were upset over it.

He rose a brow at you.

"Not the foreigner correcting my Korean." He scoffed, his annoyance growing the longer you talked about him.

"Tough talk for another foreigner, Mr. Maple." You reminded him. "And you can't blame me for assimilating." You shrugged, the silence slowly creeping back in your space.

"He is some guy to me, though." His hand removed itself from you. "I'm literally always taking care of you, too." Disbelief coated his tone as he turned to fully look at you. "That time when you got too drunk at your staff party and I carried you home." He started. "That time when your ankles were cut from your shoes being too tight so I ran to get you some slippers and a first aid kit from the nearest convenience store." He continued, his speech picking up in pace. "Not to mention I always take you your stuff before you even realize you've forgotten it." He paused. "Doesn't that count as taking care of you?"

There it was.

"I'm older than you. Not to mention we're dating. I thought you were just being caring. In love and all that." You reminded him. You were going to get him to air it out. "I think you keep forgetting that aspect." You sighed. "When an older person takes care of you, it's different."

"I'm younger but you had no problem calling me 'daddy'." He scoffed at your reasoning, landing him a pillow to the face. He spoke up after recovering. "Calling me 'oppa' wouldn't kill you."

"That was just once." You muttered in defense. "And I was drunk." You cleared your throat, surprised at how quickly the conversation turned.

"Keep telling yourself that." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to say it just once." He leaned in, his face right in front of yours. "I won't tell anyone." He said in a sing-song voice.

It was your turn to snicker now. You expected him to take the jealous route, not playful. But there was a part of you that wanted to see where he was going with this.

"What's it to you?" You tilted your head. "I thought you liked being my little baby~" You teased, your hand going to pinch his cheek. He groaned, swatting your hand away.

"Because I'm not a little baby." He narrowed his eyes at you. "It's two years between us. Not twenty." You watched as he kept the look on his face.

"How about this." You started. "I'll say it once."

"How about always?" He was quick to respond, giving you his best puppy eyes and you couldn't help but want to cave.

"Since you want it so bad," You paused, watching his expression turn expectant. "What do I get if I do it?"

His eyebrow twitched as the latter part of your sentence came out.

"How about a bet, then?" He smiled as he leaned over you, your back gradually leaning until you were laying on the couch. "If you can keep quiet until I'm done with you, I'll drop it."

You swallowed at the sudden shift in atmosphere. Did a simple title mean that much to him?

His arm moved to support him while he hovered over you and you could feel his thigh moving to press on your own in an attempt to open them. The little amount of space giving you no room to try and fight it.

"But if you can't." He smirked, his head dipping down so his lips were brushing lightly against yours. "You can't call me anything else."

His thigh had succeeded in passing yours and you let out a shaky breath at the contact. His eyes flicked towards yours and you saw the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk.

"Deal?"

It wasn't like you to give in so easily, even if you looked like you would. But something about seeing this side of him made you want more. Despite the tiny age gap you had, he didn't submit to you, and you never dominated him. But there were lines you never really crossed when it came to sex. He never pushed you too hard and you never tested him.

Until today.

"We have a deal." You mimicked his smirk as you toyed with the top button of his shirt. "But what do I get if I make it?" You tilted your head slightly as you freed the top button, working your way down.

He closed the gap between the two of you, his lips working gently against yours as he let out a shaky breath from your cold hands grazing his torso.

"You're already losing, baby." You smirked as you pulled away, giving him your most innocent gaze. "So much for being an 'oppa'." You whispered the last part.

His thigh finally pressed firmly against you, your pencil skirt riding up with it. You stiffened at the force but stayed quiet.

"It's a matter of pride at this point, baby." You smiled sweetly as you pulled his shirt down his shoulders, your fingers softly running over his arms in admiration. "If you want to be an oppa so bad," You paused as you licked your lips.

"Prove it."

"I just realized." He smirked as he used his free hand to pull his shirt completely off. "I've never called you noona to your face." He chuckled before getting up and walking backwards. "Only to others when I'm talking about you." He was leaning on the corner of the wall.

"Is this your way of accepting you're not oppa material?" You sat up, partially annoyed that he just up and left you.

"No." He said. "I was expecting you to follow." He turned and kept walking, his back disappearing from view. "The bed's bigger than the couch, y'know." He called out.

Your eyes squinted at the thought of what he was planning but you were also too worked up to care. You slowly got up and made your way to your shared bedroom, partially taken back when you saw the bed empty and Matthew standing by the door.

"Go ahead, noona, lay down. Get comfortable." He nudged with his head and you stared skeptically.

Despite your doubts, your hands moved to remove the skirt, your hips swaying as you pushed them down. You watched as he looked you over before you moved towards the bed and sat down.

"Pretty boy," You started as you removed your own shirt, smiling as his eyes went straight to your chest. "Noona doesn't have the same effect on me," You paused to slowly trail your hands behind you to undo your bra. You lightly tossed it off the bed before you were back on your chest, fingers gently running over your nipples as you whispered your next sentence. "As oppa does on you."

His jaw tightened as he watched you, and he was tempted to throw his whole plan out of the window. Sure, it was a stretch to think the word would work on you, but you miss all the shots you don't take.

"What can oppa do to me that I can't already do to myself?" You challenged as you rose a brow, your hands moving to your underwear and slipping inside. It was about time you got somewhere with this.

"Show me how much you can do then." His thumb was digging its nail into his index finger as he watched you. "But don't cry about it when you can't make yourself cum."

There was a minor truth to his words. Since the start of your relationship, you'd never needed to touch yourself or use your toys. He'd left you more than satisfied and now you were nervous your shit talking was about to backfire.

You moved back until you were snug against the headboard, your eyes darting towards the nightstand where your toys laid.

"Don't you think that's cheating, noona?" He tsked. "You said what you could do. Toys don't count." He smiled slyly. "Besides, the last time you used them, they were in my hand." He scoffed at the memory. "And you couldn't keep too quiet."

You momentarily forgot about the deal, and you scratched the idea. Your eyes fell back on his and you reached for the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off before tossing them to the side. You didn't miss how his eyes traced every move you made, but you didn't call him out on it.

You didn't bother teasing yourself. Not only because you were already turned on, but this wasn't about getting off; it was about making him cave. It was also about being able to stay quiet. If you weren't committed, it'd be easier to win.

Your hands were quick to slide past your clit and into you. Your fingers weren't as long as his, giving you absolutely nothing. You let out a small, frustrated sigh.

"I heard that." He was quick to call.

"But you're not the one causing it." You countered. "So, it doesn't count." He rolled his eyes.

You were both too stubborn to cave, your egos too strong to want to admit defeat. But maybe he'd cave if you put a little more effort into your show. He was always quick to jump at a chance to please you.

When he saw you avoiding your clit, he knew you were stalling. His head tilted slightly as he watched your squirm from the lack of stimulation.

"I can help." His voice was sickly sweet, and your stomach tightened. "You know I'm better at this than you are." He moved towards you, slowly getting on the bed.

His words were proven true when he slapped your hand away, quickly replacing it with his own. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, eyes closing when his thumb met your clit.

"You're all talk noona," He tsked. "I don't know why you make things harder for yourself."

You couldn't respond. You knew the second you opened your mouth, you'd make a sound that would count against you. You weren't even sure if he was keeping count or if you'd lose the second anything slipped out of you.

"What's wrong, baby?" He teased, using the same tone you did when you called him the same name earlier. He angled his fingers, a surge of pride flowing through him when a whine came out of you. "There she is~" He cooed, his thumb running harsh circles against your clit.

This was about getting you off. And his actions mixed with the way he looked down at you had you clenching. It was embarrassing how quickly he turned things around.

"Don't tell me you're cumming already?" He pouted down at you, quickly removing his hand, letting out a sadistic laugh when your fist balled up to keep quiet. "Where's the fun in that?" His fingers ghosted over your legs, the feeling making your thighs shake.

"Maybe I should make you beg me to let you cum." His eyes lit up at the thought. "You'd definitely be a mess at that point, no?"

"That's not fair." You were sporting your own pout this time while you tried to control your breathing. "So much for not cheating."

"Don't look at me like that noona." He tilted his head to the side, his fingers slowly making their way back to you. "All you had to do was say one little word but no," He cooed at you. "You wanted to make it interesting." He held back a laugh as you flinched when his finger ghosted over your clit. The corner of his lip twitching into a smirk instead.

"You could have told me you wanted me to call you that little word." Your voice was strained as he kept his contact light. "I would have done it, y'know."

His eyebrow rose, but he rewarded your hypothetical compliance with more pressure.

"Well, when you put it that way," He started, his finger working faster against you. "It makes this little bet seem worthless, no?" He licked his lips when your hand came up to grab at his forearm. "Too bad my ego's already bruised."

His free hand moved to grab your wrist before collecting the other one and pinning them above your head before his fingers were back in you. Same angle, faster pace.

You really chose the wrong button to push.

"C'mon, noona," He rasped when you immediately clenched around him again. "Just give up, already." His tone was softer, trying to coax you before leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth pulled at it while looking up at you. He let go, placing a kiss over your breast. "Wouldn't it be more enjoyable if you didn't have to fight it so hard?"

You let out a shaky breath. As much as you wanted to, something inside you refused to let yourself fail that easily. But at the same time, his fingers just felt too good.

"I know you're close," He groaned. "I can feel it." His eyes softened, pleading while letting out a moan of his own. "Just let go, noona."

His moan trigged something inside you and your legs shook as a pathetic cry slipped past you. You couldn't help the whines that followed while he helped you ride out your orgasm, his thumb hitting your clit intentionally. His hold on your wrists constant while he let you come down.

"Sounds like you lost." He chuckled and your eyes widened. You were about to cut him off and accuse him of cheating when he spoke up again.

"Did I take care of you?" He asked innocently, his hand slipping away from you and towards his mouth, his mouth covering them to clean them. His eyes stayed on yours until he finished. "In a way that Taekwoon couldn't?"

You didn't bother entertaining him. Too focused on trying to get your wrists out of his hold.

"We both know I'm stronger than you." His hold tightened and pushed your wrists further into the mattress as if to prove he wasn't using full force. "So, let's not embarrass you anymore."

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm mad you cheated." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Don't think I missed the mild overstimulation you tried."

He shrugged his shoulders, a sly smirk growing.

"It was an accident."

You fought more in his hold, wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

"I'll let you go if you ask nicely." His smirk was now fully on display, giving your wrists another squeeze as if to remind you of the bet.

You both held eye contact as if the other would cave the longer you stared. He played dirty and you were still upset.

"If you say it, I'll give you a reward~" He cooed and you tried to buck him off of you, your face reddening as the situation wasn't in your favor. "Say the magic words and it's all over." He smirked, radiating pride as he watched you struggle.

"Let me go, please." You narrowed your eyes, still defiant. Even when he leaned back over you, his eyes right above yours.

"Try that one more time." There was a shift in his tone that had you swallowing hard.

You took a deep breath.

"Please, oppa." You said through gritted teeth. "Let me go."

You saw his lips tug again.

"Since you made me jealous earlier, don't you think it's fair I get to do the same?" He tilted his head and your eyes narrowed at him again. He debated on if his next sentence would land the way he hoped. "Say it the way Ji-"

"Oppa," You put some sweetness in your tone, a stark contradiction to the sudden strength your gained in trying to get out his hold. He was momentarily stunned before regaining control. "Please let me go."

"Well now I'm scared." He started.

"Don't be, oppa." Your eyes were already on the pillow to your side. At least he could die happy. "Why would you be scared of little ol' me."

"Actually. We can just chill right here." He nodded. "Neither of us have plans."

"Matthew." You started. "You have three seconds." You smiled up at him. "If you're such an oppa, I shouldn't be this scary to you."

He reluctantly let you go but was quick enough to jump to the other side of the bed to avoid you lunging at him. You were also just as quick to grab the pillow and make it on top of him, the pillow colliding with face.

"Who was she?" You said as you hit him again.

"I made up a name! I swear!!" He yelled before grabbing at the pillow and throwing it. His hands grabbing your wrists again when you reached for his shoulders. "Pinky promise." He tried, bringing your hands to his lips so he could press a kiss to them. "How can I make it up to you?"

You gave him a frown and moved to get up, his hands moving to your hips to keep you in place.

"C'mon~" He whined. "There has to be something."

He was too cute to stay mad at. You'd get him back later.

"You could start by joining me." You motioned to your naked form. You got up to give him space to work with.

"You gotta admit, though." He watched your face as his hands went for his belt. "Calling you noona did do something for you." He gave you a knowing look. "I've never made you cum that quick."

"Do you not remember you moaned when you said it?" You gave him a small slap against his chest while he threw his belt to the side. "And you did that thing where you made your eyes all cute." You slapped him again, his laugh filling the room. "You could say anything acting like that and I'd probably cave."

"Really, now?" He smirked at the confession, his hands moving to unbutton his pants, the sound of his zipper following. "Then forgive me for the jealousy thing." His eyes held the look you just described. He let out a small 'hm?' that sounded too much like a moan.

"Oppa was wrong."

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gracev0609 · 1 year ago

Text

I Was Born to Love You Pt. 2

Josh Kiszka X Reader

A gracev0609/ losfacedevil collaboration.

Warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual content, Breeding kink.

What started in @losfacedevil and I's DMs manifested into this little treat.

Without further adieu, here is Part 2.

The sun was beginning to set and the warm glow of the sun coming in through the windows paired with the soft glow of the lamp on the end table was creating the perfect cozy atmosphere. You laid on your plush couch wrapped up in the blankets that were usually draped along the back, and you were on the phone with your best friend Janelle. You two were in the midst of one of your girl chats where nothing was too TMI. As she chatters about getting back in the swing of things, sexually, with her husband Logan after having her first baby, you offered advice the best you could. You decide to bring up, albeit a little excitedly, that you and Josh were currently trying to get pregnant.

“ We've been trying to get pregnant, and I'm not going to lie, Josh has been really into it.” You spoke into the receiver.

“Yeah? What do you mean babe? Of course he's excited.”

“Well, I told him that I want him to put a baby in my belly and he just about jumped me,” you laughed,” and he's been, like, almost feral for me. It's really hot. I'm not sure what's so different from before.”

Now it was Janelle's turn to laugh.

“Y/N babe, you're kidding, you don't know what's going on?”

“ No, I don't!”

“ Sweetie, that's called a breeding kink. Docile, innocent Joshua has a dirty little kink.”

“Oh, my... that's making a lot of sense.. Janelle, it's seriously so hot, it's some of the best sex we've ever had.”

“ Maybe you have a bit of a kink too, huh?”

“No!, I don't think so, I mean I know I like it when he…” You waved your hand around gesturing so she would understand what you're getting at, even though she can't see you through the phone.

“Y/N, Sweetie. Please don't be so dense. That's bullshit and you know it, I saw the way you two were looking at each other when you visited last. He wants to see you pregnant with his baby as much as you want him to be a Daddy.”

A shy giggle escaped your lips, telling Janelle everything she needed to know.

“So, you really told him to put a baby in your belly? No wonder he's been feral, you're fueling his fire!”

You heard the front door open and Josh come shuffling in after his long day at the studio.

“Hey babe, Josh just got home, I'm gonna have to let you go.”

“Go on, have fun! I'm sure you've been unknowingly teasing the poor man all day.”

“Bye!” You called into the phone before pushing the end call button.

Josh came over to you on the couch, he lifted your wrapped up feet and sat down, putting them in his lap. He gently started rubbing them through the blankets, “ How was your day babe? Mine was so long, I'm glad to be home. We're almost done with the finishing touches on the album, which is exciting, but I really missed you today.”

You thought back on your day, pleasantly revisiting the thing you were keeping a secret for now. On a whim you decided to take a pregnancy test and to your surprise when you unveiled it to yourself you were met with a little plus sign, indicating that you were indeed pregnant. You thought about the little shriek of joy that erupted from your chest and the tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You were dying to tell Josh, but you wanted to make it a surprise for him. Spending the rest of the day you had left, before your chat with Janelle, you spent searching the Internet for ways to let your partner know you were expecting. After looking at cringy idea after cringy idea you decided it would be best to take him to the store and lead him to the baby aisle, and let the pieces fall into place for themselves.

“My day was pretty good, got everything done around here that I wanted to complete. How about we relax the rest of the evening?” You said sitting up and tucking your legs under yourself, bringing your hand to rest in Josh's hair, gently massaging his scalp. He lets out a little groan and relaxes into your touch.

“Feels good baby.”

Hearing the rasp in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and suddenly you were feeling needy.

“Do you want me to make you feel even better?”

His eyes open and a smirk adorns his mouth, “ What do you have in mind sweet girl?”

“Well, I was thinking about riding you, here on the couch. We still have some more practicing to do.”

Rising from the couch you start to undress, allowing his eyes to roam from your breasts, to your stomach, to your core now fully bare to him.

He lets out a breathy, “ God damn, you're so sexy Y/N. You want me to fill you up baby?”

“Please.”

Kneeling down in front of the couch in between his legs, you unbutton his pants and free his hardening cock.

“Just relax Joshy, let me make you feel good for a little.” You grasped him in your hand, gently pumping his length until it was fully hard. Once you wrap your plush soft lips around his tip, he leans his head back against the back of the couch.

Slowly you bob your head down his length, fast enough to make him feel good, but not enough to get him anywhere.

His whines are music to your ears, propelling your aching need for him at every pitchy note. You brought your lips back up to the head, suctioning his tip, before giving his slit kitten licks making him shudder. He whips his head off the couch, looking you in the eyes.

“Okay, okay! You said you want to ride me?”

You pull his pants and underwear down his legs, and he rips his white shirt off, matching you in your nakedness. Rising to your feet you climb onto the couch, straddling his waist. Hastily you grab his leaking cock and tease yourself with him. Circling his sensitive skin against your clit and down to your weeping entrance.

“Baby, don't you want me to stretch you out-ohhh” his sentence cut off by a moan as you sunk down, inch by inch, until he was nestled deep inside against your cervix. You rested your forehead against his, breathing heavily, taking note of the sting of his thick member stretching you out, his hot red blotchy skin of his muscular chest under your palms. The smell of his skin, notes of his now stale cologne mixed with his natural scent. This was the father of your baby. Josh. Emotion was bubbling in your chest, the love for him so strong you could cry. You removed your face from his, breathing in the cooler surrounding air, you couldn't let him see your emotions running high, it would ruin the surprise. Gently you move your hips, grinding them against his.

“God, Y/N you're so fucking tight. Feels so good baby, just what I needed.”

Josh grips his hands against your hips, his fingertips digging in slightly, as he helps you push and pull against him.

“What are we practicing love? Wanna hear you say it.” He growls into your ear.

“Making a baby Josh. Need you to knock me up.”

His hips buck up into yours, starting his grueling pace. All you can do is curse and moan as he fucks up into your sensitive cunt, he's pushing you both closer and closer to the finish line.

“I'm getting close,” you murmur into the slick skin of his neck.

He brings his hand in between your bodies and expertly rubs your clit, sending you skyrocketing towards your orgasm.

“ That's it love, cum all over my cock. You deserve it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Your eyes roll back and you cry out into his shoulder, pleasure rolling over your body in delicious waves.

He fucks you through it, now chasing his own high, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth,” Gonna cum, gonna fuck a baby in you,” he moans through gritted teeth, “ Gonna make your stomach swollen with my baby. Fuck- I'm cumming, gonna fill you up.”

You feel him pulse and throb inside you, and then you feel the hot spurts of his cum. A feeling you're now hooked on and can't imagine not having again. He grabs your jaw and pulls your lips to his, passionately kissing you as he settles down from his orgasm.

His eyes flutter open and a smile graces his lips, “ What do you think? Think we made a baby this time sweetheart?”

You match his smile, and have to rein yourself back from telling him, “ I hope so.”

You shakily stand up from his lap and go to head upstairs for a shower to clean up, you smile to yourself as you feel him dripping down the inside of your thigh.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

“Oh, lover boy!” You called, poking your head out of the bathroom door.

Josh had found his way into the bedroom, the thought of having to cook dinner no longer tickling his fancy. He laid sideways across the bed, face tucked safely away into the crook of his elbow, his breathing slow and even. You knew he heard you by the way he lifted his hand in a silent salute.

“Lover boy is a tired boy.” He chucked, dropping his arm away from his face and slowly pushed himself into a seated position. A soft smile spread across your face as you straightened your back out and you reached for your hair brush.

“So I know we said we were gonna relax for the rest of the night but I just ran out of my body wash, how does a trip to Target sound?” You called, slowly making your way out of the bathroom and over to where he sat. He rolled his eyes, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“You literally sucked every last ounce of energy out of me through my dick and now you want me to go walk Target for the next hour. Ugh, fine, but only if you drive.” He chuckled, reaching a hand out in your direction for some help up.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

“You said we were here for body wash, not for more stuff for Bennie.” He chuckled, slowly beginning to sift through the racks of baby clothes. A soft smile spread across your face as your plan slowly began to fall into place.

Your heart hammered in your chest, just the thought of the words you were trying to form sending you into a nervous spiral. You nodded your head gently, slowly searching the rack for a gender neutral colored onesie. Josh picked out a few and held them up against his chest, showing them off to you. Lifting your hand you pointed at the tiny yellow onesie covered in a duck print that he held and motioned for him to come closer.

“I mean Janelle did say that Bennie baby needed some new onesies - the formula she supplements with really stains apparently. But we’re not here for Bennie.” You started, proceeding with caution as you plucked the onesie out of his hand and laid it against your own body.

“Not here for Bennie? Then what? Are you hoping for sparkles and pixie dust to fly off of these baby clothes and help us conceive?” He chuckled, plucking another onesie off of the rack. You giggled nervously, turning your attention to him.

“I mean, not exactly, but we do have some shopping to do for another little baby.” You were hopeful he caught on as you held the onesie against your stomach. Josh chuckled lightly and reached out, plucking the onesie from your hands.

“Excuse me? What little baby? Did my brothers tell you something I don’t know?” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes lightly, the wishful pang in your chest that it had actually been Sevda and Jake, something she had confided in you popping into your mind and caused tears to sting the corners of your eyes. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose you held it to the count of ten and steeled yourself and straightened your back.

“No, not your brothers…. You. Us. We’re having a baby, lover boy.” You kept your voice soft, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves. Josh’s eyes grew wide and he closed the distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry… WHAT?!” He couldn’t help the volume of his voice and a soft wince kissed his facial features as his outburst drew the attention of the worker near them. He reached up and cupped your cheeks in his hands, peppering soft kisses to your forehead and nose.

“What do you mean we’re having a baby? THERE’S A BABY IN THERE?! Sorry, sorry I’ll behave. Oh my god… I… I put a baby in you?” He whispered softly, his eyes growing wide as the realization sunk in and his hands flew to your stomach, rubbing them gently over the fabric of your shirt. You nodded gently, tears pooling in your eyes as you leaned your head forward and pressed your face into the mop of curls on top of his head.

“You put a baby in me, your baby, our baby.” Josh kept his face hidden, a wide grin spreading across his face as he fought back the tears that threatened to pool in his eyes. He slipped his hand up under the hem of your shirt, pressing his warm palm to you skin.

“There’s a little baby in there… how long have you known?” His voice was barely a whisper, not wanting to share his secret with any of the shoppers around them. You smiled into the soft warmth his hair cast on your face, reaching up to place your hands over his.

“Just this morning, something told me to take a test - you know I don’t track my cycle the way I should honestly. And well… a tiny little plus sign popped up.” You cooed, lifting your head from his and reached up to cup your hand around his chin, lifting his head so you could see his face.

“I have to tell Jake.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before taking off in the direction of the store entrance.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Jake rolled his eyes as his older brothers name lit up his phone screen. Sliding the answer bar across his screen he quickly tapped the speaker button and continued to pluck away at the guitar in his lap.

“This better be important dude.” Jake almost growled, unsure of what could be so important as he had just seen Josh yesterday. Josh took a deep, steadying breath tilting his head towards the sky and let his eyes flutter shut. He cleared his throat quietly and counted to ten in his mind.

“Jake listen, you can’t tell mom or dad or Sam or Danny okay?” Jake quirked a brow before placing the guitar in his grasp on the floor and scooped up his phone, quickly turning off the speaker function and pressed it firmly to his ear.

“You didn’t kill anyone did you? You didn’t crash the car? Y/N’s alright, right?” Jakes mind began to move a mile a minute, unsure of what could be so important that he was being sworn to secrecy. He could hear Josh pacing, the sound of the breeze through the line changing every time he turned.

“No, I didn’t kill anyone or crash the car, yes she’s okay. She is better than okay actually. Jake, you’re gonna be an uncle.”

Jakes mouth fell open as tears quickly sprang to his eyes and the phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor and drawing the attention of his girlfriend, Sevda. She turned her head quickly and her eyes widened slightly at the look of shock on Jake’s face. She made her way over to him quickly and perched herself on the arm of the couch, reaching over to press his jaw together.

“What’s the matter Jake? Who’s on the phone?” She bent at the waist and scooped the phone up off of the floor, tapping the screen to light up the caller ID.

Josh could hear the commotion on the other end of the line. Sevda remained calm as she tried to shake Jake out of whatever trance he was in. Pulling a deep breath in through her nose she tapped the speaker function on the phone screen.

“Josh what have you done to break your brother? I think he’s forgotten how to function outside of letting tears stream down his cheeks. Jake, darling what happened?”

A nervous chuckle escaped Josh as he mentally prepared to say the words once more. Sevda cupped Jakes cheek in her hand and swiped her thumb under his eye to rid his skin of the tears that lay there.

“Sev, she’s pregnant.”

A soft gasp escaped Sevdas lips and she turned her attention to the phone in her hand. Another nervous chuckle escaped Josh in the deafening silence, both his brother and sister in law now both shocked by the words that had come out of his mouth.

“Hey, guys? Can you say something… anything?” Josh chuckled, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. He could hear Jake sniffling, and the soft words of encouragement Sevda was muttering, clearly picturing her forehead pressed up against the side of Jakes head as she whispered sweet nothings to him.

“I’m sorry, it’s just.. I’m so happy for you Josh, you’re gonna be the best dad. And she’s gonna be the best mama, you see how she is with Jade even though she’s older.” Jakes eyes danced across the room to where Sevdas four year old Jade sat and his heart soared with the idea of her having a baby cousin.

“Where is she, Josh? Can I speak to her?” Sevda asked, her mind reeling with just how she had felt when she found out she was pregnant.

“She’s shopping for all the babies apparently, I thought we were here for Bennie but I’ll have her call you guys as soon as we get home.”

Jake pulled another deep breath in through his nose as Jade found him across the room and reached out in his direction. He smiled softly at the little girl and nodded.

“I’m being summoned to the tea party. Princesses know nothing of their Kings importance. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Send her all our love, Josh. We’ll talk to you guys later.” Sevda kept her voice light and sweet as she bid Josh a farewell and hung up the phone.

A sigh of relief slipped past Joshs lips as he turned on his heel and marched back into Target, his mind reeling with Jakes reaction and how he was going to tell Y/N she made her favorite Kiszka cry.

A soft smile spread across Josh’s face as he saw the amount of things you had strewn across the cart, things for Bennie and Jade in one pile and a couple little onesies in the other. You were stood in the middle of the aisle with you phone pressed firmly to you ear and a wide smile spread across your face. Josh sidled up next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to you temple as you quickly finished up your call.

“I just need you to know you’ve made your favorite Kiszka cry and Sevda doesn’t know what to do with him now.” Josh chuckled, his eyes landing on the Aunt and Uncle onesies you had found digging around the clearance rack.

“Janelle next?” He questioned, pointing at the collection of onesies. You nodded enthusiastically, laying out the Aunt and Uncle onesies for him to get a good look at them.

“Yeah! She’s up for visitors now so we might as well just take advantage of it before she’s too tired or Bennie gets too fussy. Oh! And look - I found a cute cousin shirt for Jade! They didn’t tell my Princess did they?” You joked, turning your full attention to Josh. He shrugged his shoulders, folding the shirt he was holding in his hand and tossed it back into the carriage.

“Not while I was on the phone, should I have told them not to tell Jade?” Josh’s eyes grew wide as the realization that you may want to tell Jade yourself washed over him. A soft giggle escaped your lips and you shook your head, beginning to push the cart in the direction of the registers.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

“Where’s my Bennie baby?!” You cooed, pushing your way through Janelles heavy metal front door. Janelles eyes lit up as you and Josh came into view, small gift bags filled with goodies for both Janelle and Bennie in each of Josh’s hands.

“He’s my baby. But you can have him, I have to pee so bad!” Janelle joked, pushing herself to stand with her free arm and slowly made her way over to where you stood. A soft smile spread across your face as she handed Bennie over to you and quickly ran off to the bathroom.

“How do you think she’s gonna react? Do I need to be prepared for tears like when she told you she was pregnant with Bennie?” Josh chuckled, pressing both of the gift bags into one hand and reached up to smooth his hand over Bennies head.

“She may cry or she may scream and squeeze me to death, only time will tell.” You giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

“I missed you my Bennie boo, have you been good for mama and dada? Or have you given them a run for their money?” You cooed, watching as Bennie wrapped his tiny hand around your finger. Josh wrapped his arm gently around your waist and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against your stomach as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He let his fingers dance slowly over the sliver of exposed sink above the waistband of your jeans and turned his head to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“I bet he’s the best baby for mama and dada aren’t you, Bennie? You let mama sleep right?” Josh cooed, jumping lightly at the gentle touch of Janelles hand on his shoulder.

“What is sleep? Chunky monkey is up every two hours to eat to the point I’ve had to start using formula because I just cannot keep up with his demand.” Josh turned his head slightly and pulled back from you a little bit to get a better look at Janelle.

“For you M’lady.” Josh chuckled, handing Janelle the two gift bags that he was holding in his hand. Janelles eyes lit up as she scooped the bags out of his hand.

“Bennie baby do you see how spoiled you are?! Auntie and Uncle can’t come to visit without bringing you a gift now can they?” Janelle giggled, placing the bags down on the coffee table to her right. She pulled the tissue paper out of the top of one of the bags and reached in, pulling out a single onesie.

“Guys you know this isn’t gonna fit chunky boy right?” Janelle asked, turning her attention to you as you handed Bennie off to Josh. You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly and tilted your head to the side as she unfolded the onesie.

“Auntie? Why does this say Auntie?” Janelle spoke, her eyes slowly filling with tears. A soft smile spread across your face as you took a step towards her.

“There may be a bun in my oven if you catch my drift.” You giggled, placing your hands against your stomach. Janelles eyes grew wide and the onesie slipped out of her hands and fluttered to the floor.

“You… YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Janelle closed the distance between you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling your body tightly against hers.

“I don’t know how far along I am but that little plus sign stared me straight in the face this morning.” You giggled, reciprocating her hug.

“THIS MORNING?! YOU FOUND OUT THIS MORNING AND YOU’RE ALREADY TELLING ME?! Congratulations guys.”

Josh’s eyes were glossed over as he gently swayed in place, tapping the sleeping baby in his arms on the bottom as he watched you both hug. He pulled a deep breath in through his nose as his mind reeled with everything that had transpired that day. You placed your hands gently against your stomach as you spoke to Janelle, something Josh was actively blocking out as he started to come to terms with what everything meant. You were going to be parents and the whole world was about to change.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Your hands shook slightly as nerves and butterflies danced in your stomach. You looked over at Josh who smiled back at you like he was sunshine personified. He was driving you to your first OB appointment, maneuvering the road with a bit of extra care. He wouldn't admit it but he was just as nervous and excited as you were. Your eyes glanced down to his small leather bound notebook and pen he brought along and your heart swelled that he was going to take notes.

Josh followed your eyes and softly said,” I just want to be prepared. I want to know everything. I- I want to be a good dad.”

You grabbed his hand off of the gearshift and grasped it in your own, “ You will be Josh. I know it, you are so kind and so loving, this baby is so lucky to have you as their father.”

He pulled the truck into a parking spot out front of the doctor's office.

His eyes were filled with emotion as he breathed out,“I love you.”

“I love you too Josh.”

He slowly exhales before cracking open his car door,“I guess we better get in there.”

He snatches his notebook before hopping out of the truck, rounding the front to come help you out.

Once inside the office you check in and take a seat in the waiting room. Josh leans over and asks where your paperwork is.

“ I did it online yesterday.”

His brow furrows slightly,” Oh, times certainly have changed.”

You laugh,” Josh you're becoming a dad, not a grandpa!”

He chuckles along with you and fiddles with his notebook in his lap.

Both of your heads shoot up as a nurse calls your name out.

“Come on back sweetie!”

You followed your nurse past many identical rooms until she ushered you to the last one on the left. Closing the door behind you she tells you to take a seat on the bed, and instructs Josh to sit in the chair next to it.

“So on your chart it says this is your first baby, that's so exciting! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, we are so excited!,” you beamed at her before looking at Josh with nothing but love in your eyes.

“Okay Y/N, I'm going to just check your vitals and then your doctor will be in shortly.”

You tried to keep your breathing even as she went through the routine of listening with her stethoscope and using the blood pressure cuff.

“Alright Mama, all looks good, I'll go and let your doctor know you're ready.”

Mama.

You felt your chest squeeze as the reality of the situation began to set in. You and Josh weren't just playing around anymore, giving into your desires. You were actually going to be someone's mom. You knew deep in your bones you would do anything for the little life in your stomach, you were their mom.

Josh chuckles lightly after the door closes, “ The fan girlies go wild when I say mama. I'll have to start calling you Mama now.”

You shook your head smiling,” I don't know about that.”

A light knock on the door interrupted your banter, and a gentle looking woman with curly grey hair walked in,” Hi Y/N. I'm Dr. Penza, but please call me Nancy,” she extends her hand to meet yours to shake. She turns her attention to Josh,” And you must be dad!,” she offers her hand to Josh.

His face lights up in a beaming smile,” Yes! I'm Josh, it's nice to meet you Nancy.”

“Alright Y/N, let's get into it shall we? All your vitals look great, so when was your last menstrual cycle?”

You think back, noting that you haven't had one this month or last. “We're at the beginning of the month, and I didn't get my period last month, so the middle of the month before that. Maybe 6 weeks ago?”

“Lovely! And when did you see the positive pregnancy test?”

“Last Saturday.”

“Wonderful!” Nancy grabs a pair of gloves and asks you to lay back,” I'm going to do a pelvic exam and then get a look at your cervix.”

Again you focus on your breathing as she pokes and prods, feeling for things you don't exactly understand. You look over to Josh and a soft smile plays on your lips as he is writing in his notebook that he brought along. Nancy takes notice and softly speaks to you,” You've got yourself a good one.”

“Okay, everything is looking great, I'm going to take you down the hall and we're going to do some blood work. Josh you can come along, or stay here depending on how you are with blood,” Nancy laughs lightly, helping you down off the table.

Josh smirks slightly,” Blood doesn't bother me none, I'll go with.”

You pray Josh's innuendo goes over Nancy's head, but alas it doesn't and she remarks,” Oh, honey. You really got yourself a good one.”

Your cheeks flame as you follow her out the door to another area of the clinic for your tests.

🌼🌼

Once back in the exam room she instructed you to get back up on the table,” Do you want to see your baby?”

The largest smile landed on your lips,” oh my god yes! Yes please.”

Your doctor wheeled a big machine over from the corner of the room, which you now understood was an ultrasound machine. You leaned all the way back on the bed and Josh came to stand right behind you. He leaned down so your faces could be level. He kisses your cheek tenderly, “ I'm ready to see our little baby. Our little Sunshine.”

Nancy turns off the lights in the exam room and fires up the machine. She resumes her position by your legs and gently rolls up the hem of your shirt,” Now this stuff is going to be a little chilly at first, so I apologize!”

She squirts some clear gel onto your lower stomach and it take everything in you not to flinch at the temperature difference. She takes the wand connected to the machine and places it on your skin, rubbing it around as she looks at the screen,” Ah! There they are,” she points to the blob on the screen,” that right there is your baby.”

Before you can begin to process what you are looking at, a choked sob comes from Josh.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck for a moment, desperately trying to compose himself,” I'm so sorry!” He sniffles,” Fuck, I'm so sorry. It's just that I'm so happy. That's our baby. We created that.”

You look at his face, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes are locked on the little blob on the screen. You bring your palm up to cup his cheek,and your thumb softly strokes his face, as you both look at the screen as your doctor explains what you're looking at.

Josh whispers,” This is so beautiful.”

“Do you want pictures of your ultrasound printed out?”

“Please. Is it a bother if we have a few? I want to give some to our family,” you ask her as she wipes the gel off of your stomach.

“Absolutely!”

Once she returns with your pictures you can't help but zone out, staring at the little jelly bean in your hands as she explains everything else you need to know to you and Josh.

“Alright honey, it was a pleasure to meet you, and Josh, and I'll see you at your next appointment! Take care!”

The both of you walk out of the doctor's office in a haze of joy as you clutch the pictures in your hand, one for each of his brothers and your parents.

You were quiet on the ride home, mind buzzing. Once Josh parked the truck in the driveway he asked,” Can we go inside and just lay together, let me hold you and love on you for a bit?”

“Joshy, you can love on me all night if you want.”

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Stepping out of the hot shower you grabbed a fluffy towel out of the towel warmer Josh insisted you buy. Wrapping yourself in the warmth you definitely weren't complaining about the purchase. Josh was doing everything in his power to make sure you were stress free, between being at your beck and call on his days off, to making dinner, to giving you a foot massage. He insists because according to him, your body growing a baby is stressful enough, and he can take care of the rest.

You walk into the adjoining bedroom, still wrapped in your towel to find Josh walking into the bedroom from the hall.

“Hi my love. I just finished cleaning up from dinner. How was your shower?” Josh asks while grasping his crew neck sweatshirt and slipping it off, leaving him in just his sweatpants.

You grab your lotion from the top of your dresser and start lathering it on your arms and shoulders,” It was nice, just what I needed for my back.”

Josh gets comfortable on the bed, laying all the way back against the pillows with his arm above his head, absentmindedly playing with his hair.

You let your towel slip from your body to the floor as you continue to lotion your skin. Your hands slide over your chest, and over your stomach before grabbing the lotion and taking it to the edge of the bed so you can prop your leg up.

You catch Josh's eyes as his rake over your form.

“Baby? Come here.”

He pulls you to his side of the bed and places his warm palm against your stomach.

“Sweetie, that's a bump. That's definitely a bump!”

He presses his lips to your stomach leaving soft kisses on your skin.

“I noticed it yesterday, they're getting bigger every day, ” You run your fingers over the soft shaved sides of his head.

He pulls you into his lap and you lay your head on his shoulder as his fingers caress your tummy.

Josh speaks softly,” I think it's a girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I just have a feeling. She's going to be my little Sunshine. So many people have told me that I'm destined to do great things, and for a long time I only thought they were talking about my music. But I think I was also destined to be a father to this little baby. That's the greatest thing I could ever accomplish.”

You shift in his lap so your legs are now on either side of his hips. Cupping his face in your hands you connect your lips with his, instantly parting your mouth and sucking on his bottom lip.

After only a moment of kissing Josh whines and you feel him flex his hips, searching for some kind of friction. He trails hot kisses down your throat, the smell of your body wash and the lotion you just applied overwhelming his senses.

“I can't get enough of you. You look so divine with that little bump. Even more perfect than I imagined.”

Your breath catches in your throat,” How often have you imagined me like this?”

He sucks on the skin at your collarbones,” Every day since we started trying. Multiple times a day if I'm being honest. Makes me so hard, you're so gorgeous.”

Grinding your hips down you now feel him fully hard in his sweatpants.

He groans before speaking,” Get up baby, I need you to see how stunning you are.”

He leads you to the other end of the bed, he strips his pants and sits down on the corner of the mattress, his hard cock bobbing as he gets adjusted.

“Sit between my legs Y/N, back against my chest.”

You sit in front of him, and feel goosebumps form over your skin as your back makes contact with the soft skin of his chest, and his hard cock resting against your ass. Josh softly dances his fingertips over your skin, up your arms, across your chest, down to your swollen stomach. Going back up and grasping your chin in his hand,” Look how beautiful you are Y/N,” his other hand points to the large floor length mirror in the corner of your bedroom.

His free hand comes back to caress your stomach and he whispers in your ear,” So pretty pregnant with my baby.”

You can't even utter a word, your body is aflame with need for your baby's father, all you can do is lean back more against his chest and shift your hips down a bit, hoping he'll take the bait and touch you where you need him to.

Josh chuckles lightly and places a kiss on your cheek, his hand cradling your stomach comes down between your legs, just cupping your heat. His other leaves your jaw and goes to wrap around your torso, knowing that you'll need the support soon.

Gently he swipes his middle finger through your slick, up and down, just barely brushing into your clit. Your eyes flutter closed as you melt against his chest.

“Keep your eyes open babydoll.”

You open your eyes again and find him staring back at you in the mirror with a smirk on his lips.

“It feels too good Josh.”

He growls,” I've barely touched you yet.”

His pointer finger and ring finger hold open your lips, and you both can see your pink skin peeking in the mirror. His middle digit runs through your slick yet again until he finally rubs a tight circle over your clit. You breathe a sigh of relief as he touches you where you need it the most. Your hips subconsciously buck up into his hand. He can't even reprimand you as he's too busy enjoying the sight of you grinding and squirming in his arms in the mirror.

“Gonna cum soon,” you murmur.

“Such a good girl, let me watch you baby.”

His fingers circle over your clit faster and you clutch onto his forearm that's draped across your body.

The fire in your stomach spreads through your whole body as you moan his name, cumming hard.

“Stunning.”

You turn your head to look at his face,” Let me ride you, I wanna watch in the mirror.”

With that he positions himself further back on the bed,” Climb on sweetness.”

You go to straddle him reverse and he stops you,” No baby, I want to look at that pretty little tummy.”

Before you can even protest that you won't be able to see he shifts again on the bed so now you'll both be able to look to your left and see in the mirror.

Straddling his hips you grab his cock, stroking him softly before smearing the precum across his slit with your thumb making him shudder. You tease him a bit more before sliding him between your legs and sinking down on his length. Sitting there for a moment as your body adjusts to his size, his hands come up to caress your stomach once again.

“I just can't get over it. You're so, so beautiful.”

“I love you Josh.”

You place your hands on his chest and start to grind your hips. You sigh, feeling so full. After a few minutes of rocking Josh snakes his hand between your bodies to rub your clit again knowing he's not going to last much longer. You clench around him and he groans, an almost pained, “ You're close?” slips from his lips.

He feels you flutter around him as a feral moan escapes from your chest and he lets go, fucking his cum into your sensitive cunt. He lets you ride out your orgasm to completion even though he's clenching his jaw through the overstimulation.

You collapse forward into his chest breathing heavily into his sweaty skin.

He gently pets your hair and praises you for being so good for him. You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of him growing soft inside of you still, his cum oozing out from where you're connected.

“I need another shower,” you speak into his skin.

He chuckles and you feel it rumble in his chest,” Let's get you cleaned up love.”

He helps you up and back into the bathroom. Once the water is hot enough he steps in, extending his hand for you to grab. Josh reaches above his head and grabs the detachable shower head so you can have your own stream of hot water, and you mindlessly rinse away the mess you made. Josh squirts some of your body wash into his hand and rubs his palms together. Wordlessly he starts washing your body with care. His hands pause on your stomach and his eyes flick up to meet yours,” My beautiful girls.”

His smile beams, highlighting his perfect smile, the one you pray that your baby gets.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

You and Josh were having a lazy afternoon with nothing to do but watch whatever movie he had desired. Both of you were wrapped up in the blankets on the couch, him in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants and you in an oversized t shirt.

“Baby, I could really go for some ice cream,” you told him as he softly ran his fingers over the soft skin of your calf, “ ooh and some cheddar sour cream ruffles.”

“Having a craving sweet girl?” Josh asked, pulling out his phone and opening the app for delivery service.

You brought your hands to your stomach, caressing your large bump, “ She really wants Ben and Jerry's Cherries Garcia.”

Josh added every sweet and savory treat you wanted to the cart and hit check out,” It'll be here in 15.”

You smiled to yourself as you knew he paid extra for priority. You once again became engrossed in the film he had playing on the tv and soon enough your doorbell rang signaling that your treats were here. He rose from the couch and went to retrieve the goodies, you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips when he came back in the room with three bags from the local grocery store.

“You ordered so much!”

He took everything out of the bag and set it up on the coffee table in front of you before running to the kitchen to grab a spoon for your ice cream.

“Needed options in case Sunshine changes her mind on what flavor she wants”

You popped the safety seal and dove right in, moaning when the florally sweet ice cream graced your taste buds. Josh leans over and kisses your stomach, “ Did Daddy pick the right kind?”

You smile and nod your head, grateful for your partner's care.

He kisses your stomach a few more times, “ Ya know, I'm kinda craving something right now too.”

You take another bite of your ice cream and reply with a full mouth, “ Damn, you should have ordered it babe.”

“I don't need to order anything, just lean back and eat your ice cream.”

Josh pushes up your shirt to expose the skin of your stomach and his eyes hone in on your bare core. He lightly trails kisses down your now stretch marked skin, nipping every once in a while. You watch him in awe, the arousal pooling in between your legs getting harder to bear.

“Eat your ice cream Y/N.”

You shifted your hips down a little more, propping up the pint where your breasts meet your stomach, taking another spoonful of the sugary sweet.

Josh's hands settle in the crease of your thighs gently spreading your legs for him. He rests his head on the inside of your thigh and breathes you in deeply.

He murmurs into your core, “ I can smell how aroused you are.”

Your clit throbs at the words leaving his sinful lips, knowing you're moments away from having them wrapped around it.

He leans his head in more, his soft curls tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and licks his tongue through your folds. He moans the second he tastes your arousal on his tongue.

“ God, you taste so good, I'm so hard already.”

The glorious warmth of his tongue laps at your labia, his tongue thoroughly lapping at every crease, babying one side and then the other. He works his way up your slit, purposely neglecting your throbbing clit. He knows that you need him to suck it into his hot mouth, to cradle her with his tongue.

Finally he pulls your aching bud in between his soft plush lips, sucking gently at first.

You groan and decide to discard your Ben and Jerry's, destined to be forgotten about on the coffee table.

His tongue slowly rolls over your clit, he's taking his time, making sure you fully feel every sensation.

You can't see much of him due to your protruding baby bump, but you can see the slight rise and fall of his ass as he's grinding his painfully hard cock into the couch.

He slides his fingers through the slick between your legs, thoroughly coating his middle and ring finger, before prodding at your entrance that is begging to be filled by any part of him. Gently he inserts his fingers, slowly sliding them in and out of your hole. You groan and clench, begging him for more.

He curls his fingers up and starts sucking your clit harder into his mouth. His lips tighten around your bud as his tongue continues to roll around it.

“I'm so close Josh.”

He hasn't dared take his mouth away from you, only wanting to push you to your orgasm faster.

One final curl of his fingers and a lick of his tongue and you're crying out, cumming hard on his face. Through your haze you hear him moan, the way you've heard thousands of times throughout the years, the way he moans when he's cumming.

Your chest is heaving as you come down from your incredible high. The sinful combination of your sweet treat and his skilled tongue leaves you incredibly satisfied.

He gently pulls his fingers from you, sucking them clean, and then he gently licks up your release from between your legs, careful to not overstimulate your sensitive skin.

You lean up and you're able to see his face again. His cheeks are flushed red, and his lips and chin are shiny with your juices. His eyes are a little droopy, high on pleasure.

“Did you…”

A sheepish smile adorns his lips as he rises to his knees, a large wet spot now sits on the front of his sweatpants, making the fabric a dark grey.

“I- uh..”

You stare at the stain on his pants and breathe, “ That's so hot babe.”

“ I couldn't help it, you're so beautiful. I love worshiping you.”

You stand up from the couch and grab his hands, pulling him up with you.

“I'm going to need you to get ready for round two, lover boy.”

He chuckles as he follows you through the house towards your bedroom.

His eyes are locked on the little peek of skin he can see when the fabric of your shirt swishes. The smallest glimpse of your ass cheeks. Once you reach your bedroom you turn to face him and pull your shirt off, his eyes study your body, he admires the changes you've gone through since becoming a mother. Your breasts are a bit heavier, your stomach swollen with his baby, dotted with stretch marks that you don't hate because your body is changing for your growing daughter.

“ I need you to fuck me deep, baby.”

He pulls down his now soiled sweats, his length already starting to harden once again.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart, I'll be right over.”

He grabs the waterproof sex blanket from the closet you've invested in since this activity has gotten messier than before. He comes to find you on the bed on all fours, back arched. Josh swallows thickly when his eyes trace the curves of your figure.

“You're going to kill me,” Josh mutters.

He makes his way to the head of the bed and grabs a few pillows, he covers them with the blanket and spreads the rest of it out.

You watch him inquisitively, cocking your brow up as to ask him what are they for?

“It's so you have something to brace yourself on. If your arms get tired, I've gotta make sure my girls are safe.”

He leans in and kisses your temple.You position yourself hovering over the pillows like Josh instructed, and lean down into them while wiggling your ass in the air. You call to Josh over your shoulder, “ Come on Daddy, I need you inside me.”

A shuddered breath escapes his lips, and you feel the bed dip under his weight as he positions himself behind you. His knuckles brush against your ass as he pumps himself in his hand a few times. A sigh erupts from your chest as the soft pillowy head of his cock makes contact with your wet slit, he glides himself up and down coating himself in your arousal.

“Please.”

You feel him shudder slightly before pressing himself at your entrance, slowly entering you, letting your body stretch against his. Once he was fully sheathed inside your warm wetness you feel his large palms glide up your back to your shoulders. He gently kneads the muscles of your back paying special attention to your lower back, which he knows has been feeling a lot of strain lately. He rubs his thumbs in circles over the taut muscles and you just about collapse forward into the pillows. After a few blissful moments of relaxation he moves his hands further down, kneading the flesh of your ass beneath his palms.

“Can you start to move Joshy? I want it.” You whine from the pillows.

“Shhhhh Y/N. Just let me worship you. Just focus on the feeling. I'm rubbing away the pain as my cock stretches you out. Feel me deep inside.”

You groan as you know he's right. You relish the way he fills you so completely. How you're connected as one. You feel his love radiating off of him, he's caring for you in ways no man has ever done before, and no man will ever do besides him.

Gently Josh rocks his hips forward, unable to deny himself any longer. The slow drag of his cock hitting all the right spots makes you groan yet again.

“That's it sweet girl, just take it. You take me so well.”

His hands slide from your hips down to caress your stomach. Josh leans forward to check in on you,” Doing okay Mama? You still feel good?”

You pant, “ Feels so good Josh. I love you.”

“I love you too Y/N,” he pointedly thrusts his hips in an achingly slow rhythm.

A chorus of praises including good girl, and beautiful goddess slip past his lips like a mantra as his slow pace gently guides you to your ends.

The knot in your stomach is tightening as his hands find your hips, fingertips digging in tight.

“You're almost there, I feel you fluttering around me.”

You cry out as your orgasm takes hold, blissfully washing over you.

“I'm there too baby, gonna fill you up, fuck,” his pace faulters and he chases his orgasm quickly drilling into you as his fingers dig even further into your hips. Josh moans lowly as his cock throbs and spurts his cum, painting your walls.

“Fuck…” he drapes his body over yours, his forehead resting on your back.

Gently he pulls out his softening cock, hissing at the cool air. He peppers kisses on your back before guiding you to lay on your side. You giggle as your limbs feel like wet noodles.

“I'm ready for a nap now,” you told him sleepily. Sex always relaxed you and made you tired, but even more so now that your body has been making a little human.

“Rest baby, I've got you.”

Josh pulls you into his chest, ready to indulge in a nap himself.

After just shy of a two hour nap you wake up feeling gross and sticky still laying on the blanket that housed your mess.

You tap on Josh's chest trying to wake him as he continues to snore away. He quickly intakes a breath of air,” Hi baby. Sleep good?”

You laugh gently at his quick response as if he wasn't in a deep sleep, “ I did, but we're all gross I need a shower”

You raise up slowly and scoot to the end of the bed trying to maneuver your body out.

“Do you want my help?” Josh asks, watching you struggle, silently wishing you could remove and reattach your baby bump when convenient.

“No, if I can't do it now, I'm going to be SOL when she gets bigger.” You tell him, sitting on the edge of the bed catching your breath a bit.

He smirks to himself at your independence, guessing that his daughter will take after you in that aspect.

Josh follows you into the bathroom and turns the shower on nice and hot. He sits down on the covered toilet seat watching you as you admire your bump in the floor length mirror.

He furrows his brow and asks,” What's that?” Pointing to the little black and blue marks on each of your hips framing your stomach.

You blush slightly, “ They're bruises.”

You walk over to where he sits as you know he's going to want to inspect them.

He traces his fingers over the purpleish dots, “ I did this? Are you okay? I'm so sorry baby, I didn't realize I was gripping you so tightly.”

He starts fussing over you, “ Joshy, it's okay! I like it. I liked how I got them and I certainly like seeing them. Don't get upset, please.”

He places his hands on your stomach and places his lips to the bruises on your hips, his facial hair tickling your skin, “ I love you so much”

He kisses each bruise before placing a kiss to your bump, and that's when he feels a small push against his palm and he freezes. His eyes grow wide and a smile grows on his lips,” Was that what I think it was?”

You can't contain your smile either as you lock eyes with him, “ That was a baby kick, honey. She kicked for the first time.”

He presses his lips against your stomach yet again,” Hi my little Sunshine, I felt you! Daddy loves you so,so much. I can't wait to meet you.”

Josh stands and wraps you in his arms,” God, I can't wait to meet her, and hold her against my chest.”

“You know, we still have to name her.”

Josh scoffs lightly, as if you didn't know already, “ Her name is Sunshine. She's the light of my life, I think it's fitting.”

“Joshy, no, that's too peace and love and all that.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “ I'm going to call her Sunshine regardless.”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly as you step into the shower, him following right behind.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Josh and Jake were always going over to one another's house throughout the years you've known them, so it wasn't a surprise when you came home from the grocery store to see Jake strumming a guitar on your couch.

He set the guitar down,” Hey Y/N, do you need help with bringing in the bags?”

You sat down onto the couch next to him, “ Actually, yeah if you could. Shopping really took it out of me.”

Without another word he got up and went to retrieve your groceries.

Josh came back into the living room with two cocktails in his hand,” Hey baby, that was quick, I'm glad you're home.”

Jake came back in, armloads of plastic grocery bags in his arms,” Yeah, he wouldn't stop checking his phone, he was very worried about you going to the store by yourself.”

Josh opens his mouth to protest, but couldn't find the words since Jake was right.

Jake turns his attention to you, sitting back down on the couch to your right as Josh sits to the left, “ How have you been feeling,Y/N?”

“Not too bad, mostly just tired. I'm officially 5 months along now, I feel like she's getting bigger every day.”

Jake chuckles lightly, “ I mean, she kinda is isn't she.”

Josh sets his drink down and moves his hand to lay flat against your bump, “ The other night we felt her kick for the first time and it was the coolest thing Jake.”

Jake smiles at his twin.

“ Come on Sunshine, I know you want to kick your little feet out for us,” Josh cooes.

“Babe, I don't think she's going to do it on command.”

As the words leave your mouth, you feel your baby press on the right side of your stomach. Quickly you grab Jake's hand and press it over the area she's nudging, next to Josh's palm.

“Holy shit,” Jake whispers. His eyes widen as he looks at Josh. You notice Jake's eyes soften and he leans in and places a gentle kiss on your temple. He looks at you, “ You're so beautiful,” his gaze shifts to your stomach and then to Josh,” This is so beautiful. Thank you for letting me experience this with you.”

“Jake-” you start.

“I just, I just love you guys okay?”

He removes his hand from your stomach and you wrap your arms around him instead, “ She's going to love you so much, you're her Daddy's other half.”

Pulling away from you slightly, he wipes his under eyes, “ Damnit Y/N, don't make me cry.”

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

It was later on in the evening after Jake left to go back home to his love Sevda, when you decided to make a quick pasta dish for dinner.

You were sauteing the onions and garlic on the stove when you felt Josh's hands wrap around your frame and settle on your stomach. He rests his chin on your shoulder as his fingertips work their way underneath your shirt caressing your skin softly.

“Hey Mama, dinner is smelling really good,” he murmurs into your shoulder, “ I've been doing some research.”

You cock your head, turning to look at him before adding the tomato sauce into your pan,” Research? What for love?”

He rubs gentle circles over your bump as he continues speaking,” Well baby, you've made me quite aware that you aren't thrilled with the idea of Sunshine being her legal name.”

“Right.”

“So I've been scouring the Internet for names that mean Sunshine, and I've found the perfect one for our baby.”

“ The perfect one? Let me hear it.”

“ It's a Polish name meaning serene, shining light, or sun ray.”

“ Joshy, tell me the name!”

“Halina.”

You smiled immediately, you imagined your daughter, beautiful brown eyes with a smile just like her father's, Halina.

“It's beautiful. I love it babe.”

“ You do?”

You turned to face him,” I really do. It's a beautiful name, you picked it with so much care. And besides, you're going to call her Sunshine anyway.”

He chuckles, “ You know, you're probably right.”

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Months slipped by in the blink of an eye, quicker than you had ever thought possible. Your bump had grown substantially, causing every other part of your body to be in pain. Your hands flew to your back as you pushed yourself the best you could to stand from where you were perched on the couch. Josh's eyes never leaving your form as you waddled somewhat uncomfortably down the hall.

“You okay?” He called, flashbacks of the night prior dancing in his head, not wanting to upset you if you weren’t in need of help.

“Just wanna bath is all.” You called back, trying to stretch out your sore body the best you could. In the blink of an eye Josh was at your side, helping to lower your body down onto the closed toilet lid before he went to work drawing you a bath. You watched on with adoration in your eyes, the man taking the best care of you.

“I can do it Yknow.” You grumbled, fighting for every ounce of independence you could still grasp onto. He rolled his eyes softly, pouring a cap full of your favorite bubble bath into the stream of the faucet.

“I know you can but I don’t want you to. C’mon, up.” He chucked, holding his hands out for you to grab and hoisted yourself up with his help. Josh made quick work of stripping your clothes, making a point to fold them neatly and place them on the toilet lid - the comfy clothes being the only clothing you felt comfortable in.

Josh helped you step into the tub, holding your hand securely. A soft sigh slipping past your lips as you lowered yourself gently into the scalding hot water. Josh sat on the floor next to the tub, resting his arms against the cool porcelain and dipped the tips of his fingers just below the waters surface.

“How was your day, darlin?” Josh drawled, his mind wandering as you told him about the chores you completed and how many times Halina damn near made you throw up. His eyes remained locked on your side profile and he bent forward slightly, plucking the folded wash cloth off of the side of the tub and dunked it into the water, laying the now warm cloth over your bump. A sigh escaped you as the cloth warmed your skin and you reveled in every palm full of water he trickled over the cloth.

“She’s kicking, she likes that.” You cooed, reaching out to wrap your hand around Joshs’ wrist and placed it flat against your bump, giggling as she kicked right in the middle of his palm.

“You kicking daddy, Sunshine? Don’t worry I’m keeping mama warm so you stay warm.” He chuckled, rubbing his hand over the washcloth to create a little more warmth. Your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the way Joshs hand felt against you.

“You’ll never guess what Sam did today,” Josh started, slowly spiraling into a soft rambling about his day at the studio. Sam’s shenanigans causing giggles all around while Jake - ever the business man - lost his mind because they were too busy playing around. Your head started to twinge, too many thoughts whirling about it, and Joshs voice wasn’t helping your head.

“I love you babe, but can you just shut the hell up for one god damned minute?!” Your voice was louder than you meant for it to be, the words echoing off of the bathroom walls as they slipped past your lips. Joshs eyes grew wide and his shoulders trembled as he pulled back slightly and he averted his gaze to the water. He continued to gently trickle warm water onto the washcloth covering you.

“I… I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your bottom lip matching the quiver of your voice as your eyes filled with tears. Pushing yourself to sit you turned your head in his direction and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. Josh nodded slightly and pulled back, reaching over for the hand towel hanging over the corner of the sink to dry his hands.

“It’s okay, sweetness. I’ll go clean up and leave you alone for a bit if that’s what you want.” A soft but sad smile spread across his face as he reached out and placed a reassuring hand against your back. You shook your head vehemently, reaching out your damp hands to curl them into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer to you.

“No! I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap. My head it… there was just a really sharp pain went through my head and it felt like an ice pick.” You couldn’t help the tears that spilled over your eyelids as you buried your face in his chest.

“What do you need, sweets? Do you want to get out and go lay down? Do you wanna stay here? Do you want me to leave you alone?” He kept his voice soft and sweet, knowing she needed the gentle nature rather than his upset.

“Can you help me get out and maybe cuddle with me? Please?” You bottom lip jutted out in a pout as you held your hands out in his direction, a silent request for his help. He nodded again and stood, grasping onto your hands to steady you as you stood and wobbly stepped out of the tub. Josh wrapped the towel he had set aside gently against your shoulders and stepped aside for you to leave the bathroom.

A sad sigh slipped past your lips as you perched yourself on the foot of the bed, your eyes never leaving Josh as he made his way over to your nightstand and grabbed your favorite lotion. Tears prickled the backs of yours eyes as you realized that he was going to rub your legs, lotioning up the already soft skin - something you felt you didn’t deserve after snapping.

“You don’t have to.” You mumbled, wrapping the towel you held even tighter around your shoulders. Josh shook his head gently and made his way over to you, tossing the bottle of lotion down next to you and let the rest of your clothes fall to the bed, holding your shirt in his hand.

“Here, let me help you before you get cold.” He mumbled, crumpling the shirt up in his hands and slipped it easily down over your head, pulling it out so you could slip your arms into the sleeves. Your bottom lip sat in an almost permanent pout, watching as he knelt down in front of you and pressed a soft kiss to your bump, running the hands he had just covered in lotion over your now stretch mark covered skin.

He sat back against his feet, letting his hands trail slowly down the length of your thighs, massaging the taut and overworked muscles. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his hands on you and you leaned back against your elbows, supporting your upper body weight as he slowly worked his way down the length of your legs.

Josh fought the urge to press his lips against every inch of skin he could reach, opting to kiss up the length of your inner thigh. Your arms had finally given out and you laid spread eagle on the bed, exposing your center to his hungry eyes. He caved in to the primal urge burning deep in his chest and pressed a soft kiss to your core, pulling the softest gasp from your throat.

He placed a kiss against your clit, pulling back just enough to sneak his tongue out and caress the sensitive bud of nerves with the tip of it, causing your legs to jolt. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest as he slowly began to work over your core, paying close attention to your clit. Your hand snaked down towards where he was nestled and you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him in place as he worked his tongue in tight figure eight patterns around your clit. The build up in your stomach tightened quickly, the sensitivity from the hot water you had been soaking in still clinging to the bundle of nerves.

With one flat lick of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, your legs wrapped around his head of their own accord as the band in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure. A soft smile spread across your face as he removed himself from your core and wiped his mouth on the towel you had once been wrapped up in. Josh made quick work of slipping your underwear and pants back onto your body and stood, holding his hands out to help you sit back up.

“Scoot up, let’s get some rest, okay?” Josh cooed, place a soft kiss to your waiting lips. You did as you were told and slowly made your way up to the the top of the bed. Josh made his way around to his side and laid down, reaching his arm out for you. Slowly you curled up against his side and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

“I’m sorry for snapping.” You mumbled, fighting the new tears that were prickling at your eyes at the thought of yelling at him. Josh shook his head pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Shhh, get some sleep my girl, you need every wink you can get.”

With that you kept quiet as your breathing eventually evened out and you slipped into peaceful slumber while his fingertips traced patterns up and down your spine.

Fin.

Part 3.

#gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #josh kiszka #gvf smut

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jonquilyst · 4 months ago

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Day 25 - Challenge Day

Where are we, and why is it so dark in here? Well, rest assured we're still in the challenge room, but instead of metal walls, our contestants will be looking at fake log cabin walls for today's challenge!

In today's historical movie genre challenge, contestants must spend 24 hours within makeshift log cabins off-the-grid. Everyone has fully-livable cabins, complete with kitchens, beds, toilets, and showers, but all of the furnishings are old-timey and not up-to-standard with today's technology. They will also have to find their own way to entertain themselves. The contestant with the highest needs overall wins invincibility!

At first this might seem like an easy challenge, but this challenge is to test contestants' mental strength and adaptability, rather than physical strength or... really anything else. Flo and Paulina quickly grow bored, which frustrates Flo to the point of cursing, but Paulina does push-ups to pass the time

Drew, on the other hand, discovers a loophole in the preparation for this challenge. Although living off-the-grid, the film lot as a whole is still connected to wi-fi, meaning Drew can use her phone! At least... until it runs out of battery

At around 5 PM, the contestants start getting hungry and prepare themselves dinner. Liana sticks with just an easy cereal, but Drew goes above and beyond by making her own salad!

With no windows, the contestants find it hard to keep track of the time. It's now 2 AM and not a single soul is asleep yet. Both Flo and Liana begin to grow restless from their boredom.

That is until Liana got so tired she passed out on the floor! In the end it was Drew who went to bed first... At 5 AM.

The sun rises and soon enough, 24 hours are up! Everyone is exhausted, but there was a clear winner in this challenge...

RESULTS:

*Numbers represent the combined total of everyone's needs stats, which includes all needs except social

Drew: -112 Paulina: -230 Flo: -221 Liana: -235

Way to go Drew on your second merge victory! You've won invincibility and have guaranteed a spot in the final 3! Wow!!

DREW WINS

Today's Confessional: Drew Pinto

"Wow... I won another challenge? That's crazy. To be honest, I never thought I would even make it this far. There's definitely been people who I totally thought would outlast me, but most of those people have been eliminated and now I'm gonna be in the final 3... I wonder what the last challenge is gonna be?"

@bloomingkyras @akitasimblr @cowplant-ate-my-sim @witheringscreations

#TDS2 #Liana Morris by bloomingkyras #Flo Harper by akitasimblr #Paulina Callaway by cowplant-ate-my-sim #Drew Pinto by witheringscreations

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daydreamgoddess14 · 2 months ago

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The Escape Artist - Chapter 6

Well... it's been a long time coming! You might know that this chapter was dragged from me kicking and screaming 😅 It wasn't until spin class on Monday that it really started to come together, and then today I really cracked on so I could avoid doom scrolling all day... so silver linings and all that.

To that end, I really, really hope you enjoy this one - let me know your thoughts! Comments, as always, are love, and I do truly love to hear from you 💜

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

He watched Clover in the garden running rings around the dog who was clearly over the moon to see her. He'd wondered on the way over if he should have called beforehand.

He'd secured the dog the evening before, Eugene had gone to River with no fuss. Sensing zero danger, he’d sat patiently on the passenger seat next to him, staring at him like they were new best friends. The puppy yapped excitedly when it caught the scent of one of Clover’s headbands left in the car. It had been far too late to show up at Ella's, so they'd sat together on River's sofa watching a late night film. He'd put out a bed and a couple of toys but Eugene had followed him from room to room as he switched off lights, locked up and brushed his teeth, then the dog had slept on the end of River's bed and snored all night.

It was worth sharing his space for the look on Clover's face when he'd knocked the door. She peeked out of the barely open crack in the door, shot a wary look across the road at the Range Rover with two of Flyte’s men inside, and then looked directly at River holding the wriggling puppy, then back to the car, doing a perfect double take.

She was rolling around on the floor with Eugene before he could even say hello.

And then Ella had appeared on the stairs, skidding to a halt on wet feet. Soap suds still clung to her bare legs and he'd followed their path upwards to where the two sides of the towel didn't quite overlap.

His mouth had gone dry as she'd fidgeted with the end, trying to pull it down, her blush crept down her throat and beyond where her arm was desperately pining the towel against her chest.

“You -” she started, the disbelief written all over her face, River fought against the smirk of victory at catching her completely unaware. “You got the dog?”

She gently batted the dog away from nipping her ankles, demanding her attention but she struggled to tear her eyes from River until Clover had begged to go outside.

“How'd you get the dog?” Her voice was full of wonder, something he hadn’t heard before. There was an underlying wariness and he got the feeling she’d been baited and trapped like this before.

Her dripping hair had left fat drops of water on the floor and Eugene until River had suggested that she get dressed. Mainly for his own sanity.

Dried and dressed, Ella made her way across the kitchen to stand next to him at the window to watch as Eugene tripped over his ears again.

He felt her look over at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Please tell me?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“You didn’t break in?”

“I promise I did not break in. And I promise this isn’t some kind of trap or test.” She softened with relief.

“I don't know what to say,” hearing the wobble in her voice, he turned to watch her watching Clover in the garden. “Thank you doesn't even begin to cover -”

“Thank you is fine,” he said firmly.

“But you're here so early as well, what are you even going to do?”

“Whatever you need me to. Blow up balloons, string up some banners,” he paused at the wide smile on her face, “what?”

She shook her head, grinning. “Nothing. I just… nothing has ever been this easy before,” she said quietly. “None of this has ever come without some kind of conditions or expectations attached to it.”

“No clauses, no ulterior motives. This is what actual people who are friends do for each other. So I’m told.”

“So you’re told,” she sniggered. “Ok. Let's get you to work then, if you insist?”

“Do your worst, Cole.” He shrugged.

“Oh, now you're talking -”

“Alright, alright. Don't forget the thing with the dog, ok? I put up with him snoring all night.”

At that, she looked up sharply.

“Wait, what? You looked after him all night? At your place? In your bed?”

“On my bed, not in. I'm very particular about who's sharing my bed.”

“I… you…” She stumbled over her words briefly, before choosing to glare at him instead. “Sandwiches. You can help me make sandwiches.”

So they stood side by side making sandwiches.

She sighed, adding more cheese to an already full slice of bread.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.” He looked over purely to see the small smile and shake of her head. She cut her sandwich into precise triangles and put them alongside his slightly wonkier ones.

“I just… I just want to know why.”

“Why what?”

“I’m not sure we… I’m not sure I deserve any of this. Clover, sure, she’s just a kid. Though god knows how she’ll turn out after all of this. What if she’s like him?” He could hear the fear in her voice, her hands had slowed their rhythmic work.

“I told you, it’s what friends do, and she won’t. She’s got you.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s not enough?”

“I found out who my father was,” he started slowly, “Not long before you started. I'd never known before. My mum hasn't really been around, and she lied whenever I asked before.” Ella carried on with the sandwiches, but he could tell she was listening intently. “He's not a good man, he's about as far from good as you can get. And she… she left me. I reminded her too much of the life she wanted with him. Got in her way.”

“God, River, that’s awful -”

“My grandparents brought me up,” he continued. “All of this with you, with Clover, it’s made me think a lot about how we’re raised. I could have had a different life, I had brothers I didn’t know existed. He brought them up as these fucking cult assassins, kidnapping women from all over Europe, getting them pregnant and then keeping the kids for himself. That could have been me, easily. My mum was… brainwashed by him.”

“How did you get out?”

“I didn’t, I wasn’t even born. My grandad swapped my mother for cash, passports, weapons - anything he could. He found out she was pregnant with me once he'd gotten her back, but she didn’t want to be here,” he said bitterly. “She didn’t want me.” Ella’s hand reached out to cover his own. “That’s why I know Clover is going to be fine, El. You wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.” He took his hand back to brush roughly over his cheek, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. “Once I was with my grandparents, things were… different. Mostly better. I think my grandfather still resents where I come from, and he’s never forgiven my mother.”

“But you were loved?”

“I wasn’t unloved,” he shrugged. “Clover will be nothing like her father -”

“And you’re nothing like yours,” she added. “God, what a fuck up.”

She slipped an arm up and over his and pulled him into an unsuspected hug. He let his head drop into the crook of her neck and the scent of her shampoo overwhelm him. She sighed, her voice muffled from pressing herself against him. “How are any of us supposed to know how to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Life,” she let go of him and raised her hands, palms to the sky.

“There must be some people out there with a regular life,” he laughed a little.

“Not us, though.”

“Not us.”

“Do you ever worry that everything that happened, where you really come from, is going to infect everything around you?” She asked.

“Every day. I was a total fucking mess before you started with us. Louisa and Catherine… they’ve been helping me see that it’s not true. It doesn’t have to be family who saves you.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with mine. I couldn’t have done any of this without all of you,” she said openly. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to show Clover what real love looks like when I don’t know myself. I feel like I haven’t been myself since before I met Eddie, and I was a kid then, what if I’m not a good enough person?”

He stood behind her, took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face the window. Clover was sitting in the too long grass with Eugene in her lap hugging him fiercely.

“She says otherwise,” he said softly into her ear. She nodded and turned back to him.

“C’mon, back to work, slacker. I’ve got a cake to ice.”

They got back to work, River finishing sandwiches and Ella on the cake.

“Does she know what’s going on today?” He asked after Clover had appeared for the third time to steal food he was preparing.

“She knows a few people are coming over. I mean, that’s all that’s happening. I doubt anyone from work will show up, except maybe Louisa and that’s only because I promised cake.” She’d pulled her hair up and out of the way so she could lean over the cake, piping bag in hand. River finished his prep and made his way over to watch as she carefully piped Clover’s name onto the top of the cake.

“Why’s it say Blower?” He asked from over her shoulder.

“It says Clover, you dick.” She laughed, digging an elbow into his ribs.

“How does that say Clover?”

“There’s the C -”

“Looks like a B.”

“Piss off. That’s the V -”

“That’s not a V.” She stood up straight quicker than he’d anticipated and turned to him with the piping bag still in hand. As she turned, she left a line of icing on his t-shirt. She glanced up at him, a flash of fear crossing her face. He was quick to put her at ease with a snigger of incredulity, the fear dissolving before it had set in. Her tightly pursed lips hid her smile as she swiped a finger over it and brought the finger to her mouth to lick off the luminous pink icing.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

Eugene and Clover clattered through the back door and the spell was broken.

“Mum! Can I get changed for the party?” Clover bubbled excitedly.

“Course you can babe, let’s wipe Gene’s muddy feet before he goes upstairs though.” Clover and Eugene ran off to the small bathroom next to the kitchen.

“You did that on purpose,” River said with a wry smile.

“If you say so. But that,” she challenged, “is definitely a V.”

“Oh Eugene, don’t do that!”

“Oh look, I think that’s my cue,” Ella grinned with a ‘what can you do, eh?’ shrug upon hearing Clover’s giggles in the bathroom.

“I’ll get you back,” he warned, trying to clean the pink line of sugar.

“You can try, Cartwright.” Her singsong voice faded as she wandered to the bathroom to assess the chaos caused by Eugene.

He surveyed the room, noted the small pile of banners and balloons waiting to liven up the space and got back to work.

“Is it straight?” He asked, standing on a slightly creaky chair with one end of the last banner in hand. Ella looked over from the other side of the room.

“Not remotely.”

“Maybe some suggestions then?”

“Your side needs to go up a bit.”

“Up? How?” He asked incredulously, arms fully stretched up above his head.

“How’re you so tall?” She muttered. “Nah, I’m joking. It needs to come down a bit,” she giggled. He moved the banner down a bit and she eyed the banner critically. “Little more.” He moved it again. “That’s it.”

As he stepped down, the doorbell rang, sending Eugene wild. Clover ran to open the door to Louisa and Catherine. By the time Ho and Shirley arrived with Coe not far behind, as well as Lulu and Sofia, River could see how overwhelmed Ella was with the turnout.

“You ok?” He asked as she passed him to go to the kitchen. He got up to follow her.

“Yeah, just… I didn’t expect them to actually show up. I thought it would be just me and Clo dancing around the living room, eating an entire cake and crashing in front of the TV.”

“I don’t think we’re done yet,” he said knowingly.

“I think we probably are.” She smiled. The doorbell went again and Ella peered around the kitchen door to see who Clover was greeting. Jackson Lamb stood on her doorstep with an unwrapped gift.

“Happy birthday, kiddo.”

“Barbie! Thank you! We’re having cake, are you coming in?”

“I’d prefer a whisky.” He muttered unhappily. Catherine moved up the sofa to make a space for him and nodded her approval that he’d turned up.

“No. Way.” Ella whispered, nudging River.

“Looks like there is something in his chest other than cigarette smoke and a swinging rock.”

“Who’d have thought it?” She wondered, reaching behind River for the whisky bottle. He passed her a glass and she poured a generous measure.

In the living room, Ho was having trouble keeping his eyes off Lulu and Sofia who were typically decked out in the full glam hair and nails befitting a 9 year old’s birthday party.

“Oh babe! You’re cracking open the good stuff?” Sofia cooed on seeing the whisky glass.

“You want a real drink?” Ella asked.

“Depends, how appropriate is it to get shitfaced at a kid’s birthday party?” Lulu asked.

“It isn’t appropriate, Lu.” Sofia chastised and cuddled up to the birthday girl in question, leaving a lipstick kiss on her forehead.

“I beg to differ.” Lamb muttered.

“If it means someone will dance and do karaoke with me then you’re allowed?” Clover suggested, holding up the small karaoke speaker and microphone she’d opened from Louisa and Shirley.

Lulu held out her mug to Ella.

“Fill her up, kid. I’m about to break out my best Whitney,” she declared.

“Cake first. Then you can get pissed.” Ella reasoned. She took the mug anyway and disappeared to the kitchen. From the doorway, lit cake in hand, she gestured for River to switch off the lights. Catherine got the hint first and led the Happy Birthday chorus. River watched as Ella approached Clover with the cake, the candlelight catching in both of their eyes. He pulled out his phone and took a batch of photos while trying to keep Eugene from jumping in to attack the cake. With the candles blown out, he swiftly took the cake from Ella who looked surprised, but grateful. With her hands free, she enveloped the girl into a hug, peppering kisses into her hair. “Happy birthday, my baby girl.”

“Muuuuum!”

“She’s not a baby anymore, El.” Sofia smiled. “She’s wise beyond her years, aren’t you my darling?”

“It’s her job to embarrass you,” Louisa told Clover who huffed in response.

“And at least she’s a cool mum. Mine is so cringe.” Shirley supplied.

“It’s a fine balance between cool and cringe, I expect.”

“It’s a tightrope.” Ella grimaced.

“You make an excellent acrobat.” Louisa laughed.

“Nah, I’m not having that unless I see physical proof that she can get her legs behind her head.” Ho chimed in.

“Gross, Ho.”

“You’ll never know what my legs can do, Roddy. It’ll have to stay in that limited imagination of yours.” Ella flicked his forehead.

“Ow! My imagination is far from limited, actually.”

“A real renaissance man.”

“Would the renaissance man care for some cake?”

“Go on then, Cole. Since you’re offering some sugar.”

“Now that’s cringe,” Ella pointed out as she left Shirley to mercilessly tease Ho.

She was carefully cutting the cake into generous slices which Louisa and River were distributing throughout the room. Lulu and Clover had set up the speaker and were loudly taking it in turns to perform both the Whitney Houston and the Taylor Swift back catalogues.

“Do you think they take requests?” Louisa asked as Lulu strived for, and failed to hit a high note.

“Depends, how badly do you want your favourite song murdered?” Ella asked. “Personally, I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Great tip. That’s the last piece, by the way. My excuses for not watching the show have now run out, unless there’s anything else I can do?”

“Lou, you don’t have to stay, but no - nothing else to do other than watch terrible karaoke performed by a tone deaf child and an ageing sex worker. Enjoy.”

“Sad as it is to admit, watching a 9 year old kid having the time of her life is the best my weekend is going to get. Plus, this is an excellent cake.”

“I feel like you’re right on both counts there. Though actually, River succeeding in burglary is probably another highlight.”

“Who said I was on the rob?” He asked.

“You said you didn’t break in, but you must have dognapped? That is stealing, no matter how much charm you throw at it.”

“How else did you get the dog?” Louisa asked.

“Yeah River, exactly, how else did you get the dog?”

“I think you should probably just tell her, she looks like she’s about to fight you.” Louisa warned him with a shrug, taking a slice of cake on the way back to the living room.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” he assured her.

“You don’t know the people I know. If any of his dickhead minions finds out -”

“His brother left the house unlocked.” Ella stopped still, a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth.

“What?”

“I got the address off Ho, went for a look around to see whether I could just, y'know, hop over the gate and take the dog, and his brother was there. He was asleep on the sofa - absolutely steaming drunk. I could see him through the window.”

“So you just let yourself in?”

“I tried the door, it opened. It’s really not my fault that Eugene just wandered over to me. He basically followed me to my car.” He shrugged.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I do have some skills, you know? It’s not just about good looks.” He teased.

“Who said anything about good looks? That bloody dog is just a softy.” She countered. He moved towards her, ignoring the question.

“Now you’re the one with icing,” his hand moved of its own accord, the pad of his thumb brushing icing from her bottom lip.

He felt her cool breath shudder over his hand. With the short distance between them, he caught the faint scent of sugar and vanilla on her breath, he could see every freckle dusting her nose and cheeks.

The two that were so close they’d blended into one heart shape between the outer corner of her eye and the top of her cheekbone, the three in a line which looked like they belonged in a wider constellation.

He wanted a closer look. He needed a closer look. The memory of Ella drunkenly pressing herself against him, her soft mouth against his, played on his mind.

“Ella, you're up!” Sofia’s voice carried through to the kitchen. His hand fell limply to his side.

“Be right there,” she called back, standing perfectly still.

“You were drunk,” he said as she finally went to move away, a light hand on her wrist.

“Pardon?”

“Before, when I drove you home. You were too drunk to know what you were doing. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you.”

“I knew what I was doing.” She murmured.

“You did?” he asked, unsure.

Ella nodded, though she was clearly wary of confessing anything, her expression was adamant.

“Yes. But I get why you didn’t want to kiss me back. Or don’t want to, whichever. I’ve made such a fuck up of everything, look at the state of me. Living in a fucking safe house, covered in bruises.” She said quietly. She shrugged, “least I’ve got Clo, eh? And the dog.”

“Ella,” his hand kept her from leaving. “Is that what you think?”

River's voice was low, filled with a restraint he didn't know he possessed, his gaze never leaving hers. "You think I don't want to kiss you because what?”

“I’m damaged goods, River,” she said, as if it were a totally obvious observation. He could practically hear her add the “duhhh” to the end of her sentence.

"Damaged goods," he echoed, his tone taking on a hint of disbelief. "Is that really what you see? What you think I see?"

River's hand on her wrist didn't loosen, his thumb gently brushed over her pulse point.

Ella forced a smile, an easy shake of the head.

"How can you not? It's fine, really.”

She pulled her wrist back from his grip and headed back to the party. He held back for a minute, he’d been certain that she hadn’t even remembered the kiss at all.

That she’d been so drunk, half of the evening had been lost to gin.

But she had remembered it, and that changed everything.

As he watched her go, he couldn't help thinking about the way she had spoken about herself – like she was broken, no longer wanted. The way she saw herself was so different from the way he saw her.

He leaned into the doorframe between the kitchen and the party. Catherine and Lamb were deep in conversation, and she was actually smiling.

Shirley was fidgeting with her phone, half out of the door when Ella told her to go and have fun. She bolted with a haphazard wave. Ella had been dragged onto Clover’s makeshift dance floor and was spinning and twirling with the puppy in her arms and Clover holding one hand, her previous melancholy had been replaced by a big smile.

She looked wild and happy, and though he knew it wasn't entirely true, she put on a decent facade for Clover.

“The timing for this is wank, Cartwright.” Louisa stood next to him, reading his mind. She followed his gaze to Ella.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“The good thing about that though,” she told him, “is that times change. All of this -” she gestured around the safe house, “the dogs outside, it will all come to an end. Her ex will rot in a prison cell, and one day, she’ll be ready.” She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“And until then, the timing is wank.” He added.

“You got it.”

He had three missed calls from Coe. For a man who rarely spoke, River assumed something big must have happened. He tapped the desk impatiently waiting for the call to connect. In the room across the hall, Ella was pacing, also on the phone. He wasn’t sure to whom, but when Coe finally picked up, it confirmed to him that they weren’t waiting on the same call.

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came, fuck knows how. He’s got her.”

“What about you?”

“Ugh,” He heard Coe spit on the ground before he returned to the call, “banged me up pretty good.”

“I'm on my way.”

Waiting the handful of seconds for Ella's call to finish was like waiting a lifetime.

“He’s got bail. Over the weekend, he’s out and my solicitor didn’t even know! Can you fucking believe that?” She looked furious, her hand balled tightly around her phone as she stalked back into their office.

“El, something -”

“The incompetence is off the charts,” she ranted, not noticing him with his keys in hand, waiting to leave.

“Ella, stop.” Her mouth clamped shut as she looked at him, frowning. “I know he’s out. He’s got Clover.”

“No -” Her face paled as the anger was replaced by sheer terror.

“I’m going now to get Coe, we’re going to find her and -”

“I’m coming too.”

“The fuck you are. I’m getting Coe, you’re staying here with Shirley.”

“River! No, I need to come with you -” she argued, hustling him towards the door. He stopped, his body filling the doorway and blocking her path. She pushed against him but he held fast.

“Ella, you need to stay here,” her hands came up to his chest as she rained fairly useless and ineffectual punches onto his chest to try and make him move. He took hold of her wrists lightly.

“No, I can’t. I can’t stay here! Let me fucking go, River. Let me go!”

“C’mon, El, you can beat the shit out of me if you want,” Shirley said from behind River. “You need to let him go and get Clover.” Ella gave a final, furious push. River leaned down to look her in the eye.

“Ella, babe, I’m going to bring her back to you. I’m going to get her.”

Her hands fell limply into his, her eyes filled with tears of betrayal and hurt.

He brought a hand to her cheek, “I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her forehead and turned to run down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

As the bottom door slammed, he faintly heard Ella’s heartbreaking wail of anguish.

He didn’t wait for Coe to shut the passenger door before he moved off, the car weaved in and out of traffic.

“You know where we’re going?” Coe asked, holding his ribs.

River nodded. He hadn’t known as he’d left Slough House, but during his impromptu career change to common burglar, he had riffled through a stack of paperwork which all mentioned a storage yard in Eddie’s name.

He hadn’t told Ella that’d he’d managed a decent look around the house while her brother-in-law slept only feet away from him.

River had filled the information into the recesses of his mind, his eidetic memory only kicking in after Coe’s initial call.

“Ella’s fucking raging that I didn’t let her come,” he muttered as he swerved into oncoming traffic to go around a slow moving bus. The cars coming towards him braked sharply, horns blaring.

“She’s scared.”

“I know -”

“Of losing you.” Coe added.

“Fuck,” River hit up at the roof of the car. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

They approached the storage unit as dusk fell. River’s heart raced as he and Coe approached the dimly lit building. Shadows stretched across the spaces between buildings. He could still hear Ella’s distraught cries in his ear, could still see the betrayal in her eyes as he left her behind.

He scanned their surroundings, neither he nor Coe had a weapon. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He knew had to put Ella to the back of his mind, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by fear or doubt.

They reached the entrance to the storage unit and paused, his ears strained for any sound coming from within. The silence felt oppressive, he could hear only the sounds of their breathing. Coe pointed towards the first door they came to and gripped the handle.

A faint noise broke the silence - a soft, shuffling coming from somewhere inside. River felt his body tense as Coe slowly turned the handle. Another shuffling sound came from within the unit, and then a low, gruff voice he recognised as Eddie’s muttered something unintelligible.

River’s heart clenched, he knew he had to trust that Coe would get Clover out, he wanted to take care of Eddie himself. He wanted to remove him from Ella’s life completely.

The door opened with a metallic click, revealing the dark interior. Dim light spilled into the unit and River let his eyes adjust. They cautiously stepped inside, avoiding crates and boxes, and scanned for any movement.

Further into the unit, he could still hear Eddie. They moved forward more quickly, staying close to the walls of the unit. A light from deeper within crept towards them. Getting closer, River could see Clover huddled in a corner, visibly distressed.

River’s heart tore at the sight of her, her school uniform covered with dirt and dust from the floor and the terror in her eyes. In front of her, Eddie paced back and forth.

“- your fucking mother? I’ve given her everything, angel. I’ve given you both everything.”

“Daddy -” Clover whimpered, it pained River to see her so scared.

He knew it would never be the same, but he felt a brief sliver of how Ella must have felt over the last 9 years. He suddenly realised why she’d endured everything she had for so long, why she was so fixated on keeping Clover safe.

He felt it himself, a gut-wrenching urge to scorch the earth as long as it meant Clover’s safety.

As Eddie continued to rant, Clover looked into the shadows, her gaze landing firstly on him and then on Coe. He watched her carefully as her eyes widened with a mix of fear and hope.

He held his breath, half expecting her to call out to him, but to her credit she stayed perfectly still and tried not to draw her dad’s attention. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and thumbs up.

She sighed with relief. As she did so, Eddie seemed to realise that her attention was elsewhere. River froze, his heart hammering in his chest.

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the silence was deafening as he followed Clover’s eyeline towards River and Coe. Even in the dim light, they could see his eyes darken in rage.

“I might have known she’d send the fucking cavalry.” He growled, his voice low and menacing. “Couldn't do her own dirty work, eh? Hateful bitch.”

River and Coe stood firmly. Before River could respond, Coe answered.

“Give us the girl.” He warned steadily.

“My daughter? You dickheads think I’m going to let you walk out of here with my girl?” He scoffed. “Fuck right off!” He turned sharply and stalked towards them. “Didn’t take you long to cozy up to my fucking wife, did it?” He sneered at River.

River’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening.

“Leave Ella out of this,” he spat. “Let Clover go, she’s terrified.”

Eddie scoffed derisively, not impressed by River’s response. He looked over at Clover who watched them silently, fear writ large on her pale face.

“Angel, c’mere.”

Clover hesitated, looking back and forth between Eddie and River. Her hostility towards her father was clear, but so was her fear of him. She was clearly scared of what he might do if she dared refuse him.

River saw her internal struggle, wanting to say something to reassure her that it would be ok but also not wanting to set Eddie off on a rampage.

Eddie’s patience wore thin, he slammed his fist on the nearest crate, making Clover flinch in fear.

“Come. Fucking. Here.” He barked loudly. River tensed, ready to intervene. He sensed Coe doing the same thing.

Clover visibly shook as her father’s anger escalated.

“It's ok, Clo.” River said softly, the nickname falling from his lips for the first time, as though he'd named her himself. He no longer cared about tiptoeing around Eddie, his only concern was getting Clover out quickly and safely.

Eddie's face contorted with rage as he heard River use Clover's nickname. He looked stunned.

“The fuck did you just call her?” He growled.

“Her name,” River said firmly.

“River -” Clover pleaded, her voice wobbling.

“It's ok, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere.” He assured her.

Eddie sneered at River's response, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“You've got some fucking nerve talking to my daughter like that. First my wife, then you take my kid?”

“I'm just trying to protect her. Take your anger out on me, not her.”

Eddie scoffed at River's words.

"You think you're some kind of hero, standing up to me like that? Trying to protect my kid?" he spat out. "She's my child, not yours. You don't get to tell me what to do with her."

“And what? You're going to treat her like you do Ella?”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie snapped, his voice rising. "You think you know anything about me and my daughter?"

He took a step closer to River, his eyes narrowing further. River stood his ground, his jaw clenched tightly. In his periphery, he could see Coe moving cautiously towards Clover, his hand outstretched.

"I mean, you've been beating Ella for years, it's only a matter of time before you move on to Clover.”

Eddie bristled at River's blunt words, a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Watch your fucking mouth," he warned. Eddie's focus shifted to Clover. He turned towards her, his eyes cold and calculating.

He saw her reaching for Coe and his expression darkened further.

In a burst of rage, he lashed out, grabbing Clover's arm roughly and yanking her closer to him. She squealed in terror, tears swimming in her eyes.

River felt his chest tighten at the sound and, unable to stop himself, he lunged forward, aiming straight for Eddie with every ounce of strength he had.

Eddie dropped Clover's arm, grunting as he pivoted to meet River's charge. He raised his fists, ready to defend himself against the attack.

"Coe -"

"On it," Coe read River's mind and scooped Clover up and out of the way. He moved fast, quickly heading towards the exit with Clover in his arms.

“You've got nothing left, dickhead,” River said, unable to hide his smirk.

Eddie glared at River.

"You think you're tough, huh?" he sneered. "You don't know who you're messing with.” He reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out a gun. He held the gun steadily, aiming it at River.

"What do you have to say now, eh?"

River tensed up as he saw the gun in Eddie's hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

"You're really gonna use that, huh?" he asks, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Go on then," he taunted, pressing his forehead onto the barrel of the gun.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he heard River's derision.

"You asked for it," he growled, pressing the gun harder against River's forehead.

The trigger clicked once under Eddie's finger and River twisted on the spot as the shot rang out, hitting a crate a few feet behind him.

Just missing its intended target, River took advantage of Eddie's momentary distraction and spun around, trying to gain the upper hand.

As he went to duck behind the next crate, another shot pinged, and this time he heard the unmistakable sound of the bullet tearing through flesh.

River cried out in pain as the bullet hit him, the impact jolting through his body. He stumbled and fell, clutching at his side.

The pain was sharp and intense, and he could feel the warm, sticky blood staining his clothes and fingers. He tried to push himself up, but the impact of the bullet had left him weak and disoriented.

"Come on then, pretty boy," Eddie jeered.

"Over my dead body," a new voice called. River opened his mouth but no sound came out. Ella.

He felt his breathing shallow. His eyes widened in horror as he heard Ella's voice and saw her throw herself at Eddie.

"No," he gasped, trying to get up to stop her. As River struggled to get up, his vision going blurry from the pain and the loss of blood, he saw Ella standing defiantly in front of Eddie, shielding him with her body.

Eddie's anger seemed to reach new heights as he saw Ella standing up to him.

"You little bitch -" he started, ready to lunge at her.

Eddie's hand clenched tightly around the gun, an expression of pure rage on his face.

"You'll pay for this, all of you," he snarled. As blackness crept into his vision, the last thing River saw was Eddie raising the handle of the gun to Ella.

just two dumb dumbs off to save a kiddo 😊

Happy reading!

Chapter 7 - coming soon!

#river cartwright #slow horses #jack lowden #slowhorsesfanfiction #river cartwright fanfic #rivercartwright/ofc #the escape artist #river cartwright smut #river cartwright x oc #river cartwright/reader #river cartwright / ofc #slow horses fandom #slow horses fanfiction

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aussiepineapple1st · 2 years ago

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That Time of Month

Leon x F!Reader

A/N: This is my experience with periods. I don’t know exactly how they should normally work other than getting them at the same time every month. So I just went with what mine are like.

Words: 1,672 Contains: Fluff, Period talk, Domestic Leon.

Leon was coming home today, he had been in quarantine for the passed week. He had been texting you through your cheap burn phones. He always hated being stuck in DSO's Private hospital rooms, they were nice as you have stayed in there multiple times before. But you liked the quiet time where you could just read, draw and listen to music while you passed the time slowly. Not having to worry about your job. For Leon, however, it was absolute torture after the first 2 days. He would get antsy try to find something to do, anything! Colouring the provided adult colouring books, reading, he would listen to his music, but he would soon start pacing. He was mainly extroverted, though he didn't need to be out and doing something on the town type of extroverted. He liked his company, yes going out was a bonus, but he liked to be around people. You especially.

Your phone buzzes. "Almost home :P" You smile at the text and begin typing your reply.

"Don't text and drive."

"Make me"

You just chuckle to yourself, placing your phone back down on the island bench. You had been cleaning all morning, having gotten back from a job yourself, but didn't come into contact with any viruses or parasites, so quarantine wasn't needed. The house was usually tidy because both of you seemed to be on a lot of jobs lately, seeming to come home, get one good night's sleep then back out on the field. But you had been home for 4 days now and had been lazy with dishes, plus the bathroom and bedroom needed a good cleaning and vacuuming.

You did this all despite getting your period. You didn't get them on the regular maybe skipping a few months at a time to a few years, those times would get Leon's hopes up that you could be pregnant, but the tests were always negative. Luckily you had felt that cramping last night and put a pad on just to be safe. You felt like crap and would sometimes have to stop what you were doing, bending over to put pressure on your pelvis to help with the bout of pain. Currently you were standing in the kitchen doing the dishes, looking around the large space of your living area, your sink being on the island bench facing out so you could converse while cleaning up. The thought of how lucky you were despite your job and the things you have seen, you had an amazing 2 story house out in the hills, a loving boyfriend who you were hoping was going to propose to you at any time, but honestly didn't mind if you didn't get married. It was mainly the thought. You were basically husband and wife already, just without the legality and paperwork, and rings were a slight hazard, even though you would both wear gloves when out on a job.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the uncomfortable crampage turning up to a 9, causing you to squat down in a ball of discomfort and pain. You feel your skin going clammy and was sure you lost all your colour, one hand still holding onto the edge of the bench above your head. You were in so much pain you didn't even hear the door opening.

"I'm home!" Calls an all too familiar voice from the front door, all the way across the room from where the kitchen was.

Strange.. There was no response? Leon was sure you were home. Dropping his keys in the bowl beside the entrance with a clang, he drops his bag while looking around. He could smell the citrus of the cleaning products you liked to use and saw a nicely lit house. You had opened all the curtains to the windows and letting a nice cool breeze in. Yeah you were definitely here, so why were not you running at him and leaping into his arms like he would normally be welcomed home.

"(Y/N)? You here?" He calls scanning the kitchen area and seeing some fingers, white from gripping the edge tight. They lift up and give a wave.

"Over here.." You say grunting out your words.

That didn't sound good, Leon makes his way towards the kitchen and peers around the island bench to see you scrunched up in a ball. He walks over to you and kneels down placing a hand on your shoulder, you felt all cold and clammy. "Hey.. What's wrong?" He asked with worry in his voice. Seeing your flushed face as you look up to him, your nose wrinkled in pain.

"Period.." Was all you could get out, exhaling through the cramp, this one was lasting a while.

Leon's shoulders relax, he thought you had been hurt, well, you were hurting, but it was nothing either of you could really do and you weren't bleeding out. Well.... You were, but this was the 'natural' type. "Alright, up we go." He said lifting you into his arms. He gives you a kiss on the temple as he walks you over to the lounge.

"Welcome home, by the way." You were starting to come back to reality, the cramping finally starting to calm to a more bareable pain.

"We really should get you checked out, I'm a guy and even I don't think this is normal." He said skipping over your welcome home, but it didn't go unappreciated.

"I know.. But when have I got the time? The appointments have to be made in advance and we don't know when we will be back or going out on jobs." You say as Leon places you down on the couch. He gives a frustrated look as you were very right, but he hated seeing you this way. It wasn't often, thank god, but when it did happen he absolutely abhorred that your body would do this to you.

"Do you think maybe you could be pregnant? You seem to be in more pain than normal?" He asked. "I heard one of the office girls talk about the pain she felt before she found out she was pregnant."

You shake your head. "No.. I'm bleeding this time."

"Oh.. Right." He sounded disappointed. You knew he wanted at least one kid. Though you were both getting older, and having a child in your line of work was just a death wish for the child. That or easy orphanage, and Leon was an orphan so he didn't want to put any child through that. But he still would have that glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Leon makes his way to the hallway leading to the bathroom, toilet and 2 guest rooms. Opening the doors of a closet built into the wall, he takes out a maroon wheat pack. Placing it in the microwave for 3 minutes, he searches around the kitchen cupboards for some snacks. You had said you were out shopping the other day when he called you from how bored he was, then he suddenly remembered. Walking over to his bag beside the front door he picks it up and takes it over to you.

Kneeling down in front of you on the couch he reaches into his bag, pulling out some sour lollies, a box of Ferrero Rocher's and a very crushed flower he had picked on his way home. "Oh.. um.. This did look pretty." He said with a sheepish smile, you take it from his hand anyway and smell it.

"It still smells nice though." You smile and lean towards him, Leon closing the gap between you as your lips touch and a quick kiss.

The microwave beeps and he makes his way over there, removing the wheat back and bouncing it in his hand as it was hot to the touch to start with. You realise the room starting to get darker, hearing the curtains being closed.

"You don't have to, I know you like the sunlight coming through."

"I do, but we can't watch a movie with the glare." He replies. Grabbing a blanket from the another couch before laying it over you, placing the wheat pack over your pelvis. You sigh with relief after a short moment, Leon standing beside you until he heard your discomfort lessening.

"What movie were you thinking of watching?" You ask knowing what the answer was going to be already.

"Do you even have to ask?" He said grabbing the remote controls, sitting you up he grabs a few pillows to place on his lap so you could lean against them.

"Kung Fu Panda 2 it is then." You smile as you lean back into the pillows and as Leon wraps his arms around you. You were already eating the sour lollies he had bought. "Did you just happen to grab these?"

"Well I was going to ask if you wanted a date night and this could be after snacks. But plans have changed and I'll go out to get some takeaway." He answers pressing another few kisses to your temple. He had really missed you, both dancing around each other with separate jobs lately over the passed month. You would come home and Leon would have been pulled out to work that previous night, then he would come home and you had been sent international that morning.

"Sorry.." You apologise feeling guilty that you had ruined his plans.

"Sorry? It's not your fault you're in pain." He reasons, not accepting the apology. "Besides, I get a week off so we can do whatever you want when you are ready." He smiled and starts to search for his favourite movie.

You both spend the rest of the afternoon watching the movie then catching up, just talking about your jobs and what you had experienced, needing to talk to each other about it and how you were feeling. Leon then leaves to get some Chinese and sushi, coming home with many different options. Tonight was a night of alcohol, laughing and feasting.

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat

#cramps #domestic leon #fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x f!reader #leon x fem!reader #leon x female reader #leon x reader #period #resident evil #vendetta leon

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niamiya · 7 months ago

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Would you mind if I sketch you?

High school AU!!

Synopsis: You would usually hang out in the science lab's storage room to get away from everyone until one day Albedo decided to walk in on you.

A/N: Albedo brainrot, tbh I miss him. hoyo pls I need to see him in an event again </333. anyways I might consider writing a part 2 for this, and as alwaysss enjoy reading and sorry for any grammar mistakes-

School had never been your strongest suit. Yeah, you can manage not to fail any classes and be decent, at least, but there wasn't a particular subject you were master at, or that was what you think.

You had recently picked up a new hobby of sketching, something to get your mind off of when school starts getting too much for you. Sometimes, the teacher would call you out for sketching on the blank spaces on your test papers.

Today was one of those days where you just wanted to be away from everyone, being the loner you are and having no interest in interacting with any of your classmates. You head to your usual secret place, which is the schools science lab's storage room. It was dusty and looked like no one had touched this room for so long, which is good for you cause now you needn't worry so much about people barging in.

You brought your sketchbook and sat down on the ground near the tiny window so that you have a little bit of light to see you pulled out your sketchbook and started to sketch out what was in your brain, slowly enough without realizing, you begin to doze off a bit.

By the time you woke up, it was almost evening, so the sun was setting golden light shining from the window, which shuned the figure in front of you.

"Wait, what?"

Having just woken up your mind was a bit hazy until you gained a bit of consciousness.. who and why is there a man sitting across you? What is he doing? You had so many questions as you were surprised to see this man.

You cleared your throat, letting out a small "ahem," to which he caught it, finally looking up at you from his what seemed to be a notebook?

"Oh, sorry, I saw you sleeping and thought that it'd be weird to just leave you here in case you overslept till noon, I was actually planning to wake you up immediately, but I saw how in deep sleep you were" he spoke, brushing his ash blonde hair while looking back at his notebook.

"I thought no one goes inside this room... how'd you find me?" Questioning him while rubbing your eyes, looking around the still dusty room filled with science equipment.

He chuckled softly before speaking up, "Actually, there were comments from students outside that they were hearing strange noises coming from here, so I decided to just check it out."

You must've gotten carried away while you were alone in this room, which now got you feeling embarrassed. "You.. won't tell anyone that I was here now, right?" Sweating nervously, not wanting your spot to be exposed, it'd be a hassle to find a new hiding spot.

"Sure, I'll just tell them it was a rat or something," he grinned before closing his notebook and dusting everything off which you took notice, was he sketching in his notebook just now? does he also like to draw?

"Is that a your drawing?" You raised up the confidence to ask, to which he replied. "Indeed it is supposedly I was writing my thesis earlier before i came here but decided to sketch something whilst waiting for you to wake from your slumber"

"Is that so? I also happen to be sketching just earlier, that is, before I doze off-" chuckling softly and grabbing your sketchbook from the floor, he was watching you pick it up and smiled.

You looked up at him to see his face, the light brushing his face. "What were you sketching?" You suddenly shot up the question which he seemed a bit flustered to reply.

"I'd rather not say..." he said while looking away from you and gripping his notebook "aww not even a glimpse? I won't judge, I swear," playfully trying to see what he just sketched, you were curious.

He quickly cleared his throat and changed topics. "It's getting late now. We should head back home before the school gates close, I'll walk you home"

You felt a bit disappointed but respected his decision, and it really was getting late so you stood up and brushed off the dust from your uniform and placed all your stuff inside your bag.

Both of you headed out with your stuff as he walked you home. The sun had already set, still before reaching your home, you both had a small chat walking home. You get to learn his name and how he's the leader in the science club.

Once you both reached the destination, which is your home, he handed you a piece of paper from his notebook that was folded, which you took from his hand. "Goodnight [name], I hope to see you again." he smiled before waving goodbye, and quickly enough, he was gone.

Confused, you unfolded the paper, and it revealed a sketch of you when you were in the storage room peacefully asleep. His sketch definitely did capture that, alongside the sketch was a bunch of writing that was probably for his science notes.

You giggled and kept the paper with you ever since, excited to see him again the following day.

#albedo #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #albedo kreideprinz #genshin impact #genshin oneshots

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ethanpig101 · 2 months ago

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What if Venom was it the horror genre/Analog Horror

Since it’s the spooky season, might as well do a short horror story. (Plus this story and art came to me in a dream, so yeah)

@lunaglitchercc @thebekashow @gokublacks-blog @uzumakiramen1987 @kn1ghtr1dersthings @leafith @askmafiabobvelseb @silveradoboii @ssj4-monkey @eveanderland34 @rapidbrychange @fireofdoom17 @loemester @zeliumyokomaru123 @zedthevoidman @misoxmiireux

The story begins with our protag, Eddie Brock, who just got home from work at the Daily Bugle.

Eddie decides to relax on the couch and watch TV after a long day at work (Jameson always cries about getting a picture of Spider-Man), he spent at least 2 hours flipping through channels, looking for something interesting to watch, then he sees the News Channel, the news broadcast talks about an alien spaceship that crashed a week ago, the event also involves the company “Life Foundation”.

Chelsea: Welcome to the News Broadcast, I’m News Reporter: Chelsea, coming to you live at the crash site, where this unidentified spacecraft came from space and crashed in East Malaysia, we have eye-witnesses here to..

Eddie: ugh, it’s the same thing I’ve already covered at the Daily Bugle, might as well just watch SpongeBob-

Just before he changes the channel, he hears a name that he is familiar with..

Chelsea: Here we have Carlton Drake, the Founder of the Life Foundation, here today with us to give us some insight about this.

Carlton: thank you for having me here. You see, the spacecraft that crashed was made by the Life Foundation, it was supposed to go to the moon for a test mission, but something made it drift off course and landed on an unknown planet..

Eddie: feels like he’s there to do a cover up story.😑

Carlton:…we cleared out the shuttle and we found foreign bodies, we captured them and are currently studying them.

Chelsea: what happened to the people who are on board?

Carlton: they………sadly died in the crash, when we searched the shuttle, we found their bodies, but they……..don’t have their heads anymore. It like something bit them off.

Chelsea: I……I’m sorry for your loss…

Eddie: biting off heads…….that’s new.

Chelsea: Is there anything else you would like to say, Mr. Drake?

Carlton: Yes, I would… last night, when we were studying the foreign creatures…

Eddie: (skeptical) more like experimenting.

Carlton: …one of these…….things escaped from the facility, it killed ten of my highly trained staff and scientists, leaving only their headless bodies..

Chelsea: oh my god…

Carlton: to anyone who sees this broadcast, if you see a person that looks identical to you, run away and hide, if you see a person that is as black as it’s shadow, that is not a man………lock your doors and windows, close your blinds, and pray to god for mercy, because we don’t fully know what these things are capable of, they could be…….demons….

Chelsea: Well….uhh……thank you Mr. Drake for being here, back to you at the studio, James.

It switches to the News Anchorman, James. A. Janisse.

James: well, thank you Chelsea, and now for other news, is Jeepers Creepers getting a Kill Count?

Eddie: heh, less likely.

Then Eddie leaves the tv on the News channel as he is going to the bathroom to piss his brains out but before he makes it halfway down the hallway to get to said bathroom, he hears static as the tv switches to the emergency broadcast system, then hears something in the bathroom as the broadcast turns on, so he became cautious and slowly makes his way to the bathroom with a baseball bat he found on the floor.

The broadcast’s text to speech voice finally speaks as Eddie is slowly walking.

EBS: This is an Emergency Broadcast System, this is not a drill. There have been 5,000 reports of dead bodies with missing heads, from Virginia to Arizona..

Eddie:(in a whisper) fucking 5,000, oh my god.

EBS: if you see a person that is as black as tar, barricade all entrances to your home and arm yourself with a weapon, we don’t know what it can do, it’s a highly dangerous entity.

Then the audio repeats itself once more as Eddie is at the doorway of the bathroom, he is kinda scared now, but when he opens the door, he finds…………….nothing……at first, Eddie was relieved.

Eddie: oh thank god, there is nothing there..

But then he heard a groaning noise, and as he is looking at the doorway, he sees something form in the shadows, a hand stretches out to latch onto the door, Eddie notices the the color of the hand, with a terrified expression says..

Eddie: blacker than tar 😨…., it’s the one on the news and the EBS…..

The entity’s ink-like Symbiote body forms into the shape of a malnourished human, formed eyes and teeth, and tentacles sprouting from parts of its body.

But before it can leave the bathroom, Eddie wastes no time and bashes the entity’s head with the bat..

Eddie: I gotta get out of here…

In a panic, he tries to sprint to the kitchen, because that is the closest way to his motorcycle in the garage.

But he stops before even making it to the kitchen, because he sees the entity in the doorway of the laundry room, it moved ridiculously fast, almost like it teleported there, it regenerates the damage from its head right before Eddie’s very eyes, then uttered its first words since it broke into Eddie’s home…..

?????: Eddie…….

That utterly terrified Eddie to the point of Screaming bloody murder, he didn’t even notice that his pissed his pants, then he faints out of consciousness.

Eddie wakes up, and sees the entity is no longer there, he checks his own head if it bit it off, and it didn’t, he was relieved, then he looks at one of his windows, it’s broken. And also noticing his piss stained pants.

Eddie: Dammit.

It looked like the entity left, but everything is not what it seems…..

Eddie keeps having this feeling of being watched, then he hear a voice in his head, and it sounds like the entity….

?????: Eddie…..your body is a sight to behold, it’s perfect…..you’ve bonded with us…..

Eddie(terrified): no…..No……NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Eddie then transforms in the most painful and gruesome way possible, (like how the Hulk made his transformation extremely painful to get revenge on Bruce in one of the comics) he feels his body stretching and tearing, from his toes to his face, he screams in agony from the immense pain, each one of his teeth is popped out one by one, being replaced with sharp fangs. Finally, the entity rips out of Eddie like a human flesh suit, taller, bulkier, and beefier than before, of course Eddie will still be alive when the entity transforms back.

?????: yes…….we truly bonded together, the night is still young, so how about we get some heads…..now that finally, we

Are

VENOM….

(The End)

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 months ago

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SWORDTEMBER '24, DAY 2: SAKURA

Oops it's late. But hey, introducing a format that most if not all of my written entries will use from here on out, as well as a new OC: Cynthia Delabaunte. Parts of her story will be told within the little writing snippets under the cut for these entries :3 Might also expand on her story separately, too, once I can type properly again. -----

Item ID: EO-2402 Item Name: Decorative Blade Category: B-2 Origin Point: Telloran, Katal Owner: Cynthia Delabaunte (C), Naomi Tellorvoso (O) Description: A sword of traditional make and design, in accordance with a specific sect of Earthen history (see files JN-001 through JN-387 for additional context). Likely made from steel. No testing has been done for confirmation. The closest accurate designation that can be given is a katana, but it must be noted that modern examples have strayed from traditional standards. Flowers from a cherry blossom tree (see file EO-2002) are engraved along one side of the blade, the wood of the handle is from the same species, and the cloth bindings appear to be dyed in order to match the color of the flower petals. In need of sharpening, but still dangerous in the right hands. Cataloger’s Notes: If this hadn’t been officially logged within the mailing system already, I wouldn’t bother recording it at all. At least this way there’s less of a chance Naomi will get in trouble (doubt the boss will care that she didn’t know she’s not allowed to send this kind of thing to my office). Hopefully I can get it moved to my apartment without too much fuss… if not, well, guess I’ll just have to find a way to re-categorize this, too.

----- From a technical perspective, a very legal and according to employee file kind of way, Cynthia Delabaunte is nothing more than a cataloger for the Federal Port Authority of the planet Katal. Just one of many working endlessly to inspect, categorize, and manage the influx of items confiscated by inspectors. In practice, she has to be many other things: A historian, a diplomat, an archivist, an antiquarian, and more.

Today, she is trying her hand at being an arborist. For the first time in her decade of experience, the FPA has confiscated an entire goddamn tree.

It waits, stationary, in the loading bay, towering over the rest of the packages. Mocking her, just barely in view from her office window. Slowly, slowly dying. All because someone in the capitol procrastinated on paperwork, It was supposed to be allowed to pass through without any issue, with approval months in advance, bypassing the strict laws regarding potentially invasive species.

By the looks of it, the cherry blossom tree stands little chance of outliving the tiresome games of bureaucracy. Assuming Cynthia doesn’t find a way to speed along the process, at least. She is trying, bless her heart, but one can only call in so many favors before an effort begins to feel futile. Evidently, she needs to change tactics. A loophole, maybe? If she can change the tree’s legal classification… make it count as less than it is (the same way she only counts as a cataloger), then perhaps she can force the FPA to release it.

The only question is where to start- but that gets answered for her soon enough, a message request popping up on her computer. From none other than the tree’s rightful owner, the head of one of Katal’s most important families, Naomi Tellorvoso. Despite having no shortage of experience dealing with important people, Cynthia still feels her heart race at the prospect of talking to the woman.

Thankfully, the message request is for text only. That, she feels, is far less intimidating. Especially once the texts start flying back and forth, Naomi’s frustrations unleashed in a flurry of accusations that came to a screeching, apologetic halt the very moment she realized Cynthia wasn’t responsible for the tree being impounded.Still, the would-be arborist proceeds with caution, refusing to make any direct promises this early into their conversation. Instead, she probes for any information that might be twisted to their benefit.

Naomi’s tone, even though text, softens as soon as she begins sharing the history of the tree. Apparently it is old, having outlived three generations of the Tellorvoso family, genetic modifications making it last far longer than natural members of the species. First planted by Naomi’s great great grandmother, within the garden of their home planet. For decades the tree was the centerpiece of their estate, a shining testament to their heritage (something few humans could trace in this age), with fallen flowers and branches used for traditional crafting.

When the great great grandmother passed, the terms of her will had her buried along the roots of the tree. So too were her children laid to rest in its shade. Now, with Naomi’s mother passing beyond the veil, the Tellorvoso family yearned to have the cherry blossoms bloom closer to home, to have its roots grow strong alongside the rest they have planted. Apparently there had been much praying and deliberating before they agreed to transport the tree from their old homeworld to Katal, wanting to be sure their forefathers would not be frothing with rage in the afterlife.

But all Cynthia needed to know was that someone had been buried beneath the tree. That alone was enough for her to start pulling strings, even as she listened to Naomi continue the tale of her family’s journey across the stars. If you asked either of them, they would not have been able to pinpoint the moment they had switched their conversation to a phone call instead of text. By the time they say their farewells, Cynthia has already managed to re-categorize the sakura tree as a container, the contents being human remains.

Grim? Perhaps, but the port authority is less strict about the movement of coffins than about the introduction of potentially invasive species into the ecosystem (even in highly isolated, controlled circumstances).

Within a week the tree is gone, sent out while Cynthia was at home, and she almost misses the vibrant pink taking up her office view. Almost. Another month passes before she hears anything more from the Tellorvoso family, coming in one day to find a large package resting atop her desk. Clearly marked for her, from Naomi, having already gone through the office’s mailing system. The attached card features a photo of the tree in its new resting place, now looking more lively than it had when it left the office.

But it’s the contents of the box that has Cynthia scrambling to message Naomi, trying to make sense of the absolutely beautiful sword (left unsharpened, yet no less intimidating) that absolutely should not have been sent to her work. Flower petals line the box, helping obscure the weapon, and as she cannot help but admire the craftsmanship while she waits for Naomi to pick up. Nestled among the packing are several bags of tea, as well as a few wrapped candies. Clearly the intent is rather friendly.

Maybe, ah, friendly, based on the way Naomi answers the phone, a little breathy and far less confident than the first time they spoke. She apologizes for breaking the rules, hastily, and rushes right into an offer to properly thank Cynthia for her efforts. Drinks, or dinner, or teaching her how to wield a sword. If that’s what she wants. And by the Ancients, it is what she wants.

#the format will hopefully start to make more sense the more of these I make #I hope at least one fifth of my ideas come across as intended oop #idk I just like the idea of a story unfolding out across the different days?#anyway.#rbswordtember #swordtember #swordtember 2024 #now time to sleep and also rest my hands #typed most of this with just my left hand

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dragongirl642 · 10 months ago

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Davy Jones x female reader (soulmate au) part 2

Author note:

It's been a while but a sequel is here!

Cross-posted on Wattpad.

Part 1

-----------------Start-------------------

(Y/n) pov:

Life on the dutchman was getting off to a great start. Can you sense the sarcasm?

I'm cold, tired, narrowly avoiding being constantly drenched by the leaky ceiling, and the food is terrible. I've been here three days and I want to die.

I haven't seen the infamous Davy Jones since my unwelcome boarding of The Dutchman. Sure, I'd seen his shadow on the wall a few times, I don't think he realised I could see him, and I'd heard his footsteps late at night when I was trying to sleep; but he hasn't actually come to talk to me again after the whole soulmate revelation.

Meals are delivered twice a day. A small cup of gruel in the morning and another cup of gruel in the evening. Everything tastes and smells of fish. I'm sick of salt. I'm sick of fish. What would I give for an apple or anything really; that wasn't pulled from the briny blue.

However, there is one ray of light in this perpetual darkness. A hole in the brig wall. I've been keeping an eye out outside.

The second I see land; I'm going to make a break for it.

I've tested the hinges on the cell door, and they were as easy to remove as I expected. Just use a stray board anchored against a bucket and lift and voila.

Right now, the ship was gently rocking as soft rays of sunlight drifted through the hole. Lighting up the cell and filtering through a few remaining shards of glass in the window, casting the coral encrusted walls in vibrant hues pinks and blues and greens. If not for the constant rumble of booted feet above, it's almost peaceful.

The opposite of yesterday's violent ride. I'd been thrown around the cell as the ship bounced and dipped in the waves. I had several bruises from where I'd hit the floor and the bars until I'd been flung back and become trapped on the bench during the storm, by hooks made of coral that twisted and looped around me, like the ship was alive.

Well, moving on. New day, new opportunity.

Warm beams of sunlight stream through the hole in the hull.

I skip over and look outside. The warming rays feel like a blessed balm on my skin, chasing away the bone chilling cold.

Land!

There on the horizon. A dark strip of green and yellow.

A beach? An island? A town? Whatever it is, we are getting closer.

Lady luck must be smiling upon me today. I can hear the shouting of the crew above. My breakfast was delivered about 2 hours ago, so I have a few hours to make my escape without being seen.

First, a disguise. I move to the bench and started kicking the coral. Adding a few more pieces to the pile I had been gathering for days under the bench.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I froze, listening for approaching footsteps. The sounds had come no closer than what I assumed was the end of the corridor. Hearing no more steps, and no tell-tale breathing, I set to work. Ruffling my hair out, I pick up a few pieces of coral and begin to entwine them in half of my hair.

'Uh this will be a pain to remove later.'

Picking up some more coral I hook it in the laces of my boots, snag it onto my clothing and around my belt.

Looking down, I give a wiggle...The coral swayed but didn't fall off.

'Alright, disguise is in place...Now I just need to not die.'

Gripping the vertical bars of the door, I squat low and brace before straightening out my legs. The door lifts and I fall back slightly before lowering it quickly. The clang as it hits the floor is muffled by the crew above. At least I hope it is.

Creeping quickly forward, a glance shows no-one around the cells. I crawl up the stairs and step among the crew, hunching slightly so the coral obscures my face. The monstrous crewmembers spare me no more than a passing glance, the few other human (or still mostly human) newcomers hurriedly dart between the more established crewmembers carrying bundles of rope or cleaning supplies.

The dutchmen is dark, if not for the streams of light pouring through the various cracks in the hold and from the stairs. The shifting of the crew flows around these beams; those cursed to wander the dark veil of death, subconsciously seeking the light.

I look around for the stairs. 'Keep moving like you have a purpose (Y/n), and no-one will question you.'

I weave through the hull until the brightest beam of sunlight guides me to the stairs. Just as I make to ascend, a shadow blots the light and I jump to the side. Backing into the area besides the beams, hiding in their shadow as the hammer-headed crewman descends.

He pauses at the bottom and sniffs the air, head tilting as he looks around confusedly. Searching.

"Oi Maccus!"

He perks up at the call of his name, head snapping towards the piranha-headed crewman calling from the depths of the hold. The cat-o-nine-tails at his belt sways along with the ship, barbed tips stained dark with memories of violence.

I crouch subtly more, hands pressing into the beams at my side as I strive to inch further into the shadows.

The wood vibrates, the beat complicated, unlike the natural shudder's ships make as the waves toss them to-and-fro or the marching tempo of booted feet crossing the deck.

A rhythm...music!

I wonder where it's coming from. But, there's no time for that.

The beat seems to seep into my hands, soulmark tingling in time. I quickly pull my hands away from the boards and look around.

I sigh in relief, as Maccus goes to see what the whip-carrying crewman wants, I scramble around the corner and up the steps.

Head down, eyes darting around, I make my way to the stern.

Scales.

Coral.

Wounds.

Seaweed.

Pearls.

Eyes.

Starfish.

Teeth.

Shells.

In the light, the crew look even more horrifying. No longer hidden in the shadows of the hold or the shade of the night. I keep my eyes down as I grab a bucket sitting near the steps. Lifting it to hide my chest, I slink through the crew.

Looping the deck takes almost an hour.

Blending in with the other deckhands low in the hierarchy, means stopping every few minutes to scrub absentmindedly at the deck or rails.

Just keep your head down and keep looking.

"Oi, watch where you're going."

I stumble back as a shell-encrusted crewman shoves me to the side. I stumble against the railing and fumble with the bucket, almost dropping it.

Shit, did they see anything? Suspect anything?

I throw a glance at their back from under the coral, but they walk away uncaring of the "lowly deckhand" they'd just accosted.

I can't help the sigh that escapes me and quickly pretend to scrub the railing.

Davy Jones Pov:

I find myself crossing the line again.

Stretching my senses through the walls of my ship to check on the woman in the hold.

When we sailed through storms, I made sure she was held safe.

When the cold became too great, I ordered my crew to sail to warmer waters.

Now, I am here again, at the bottom of the steps to the hold. Just a few steps away from turning the corner and standing before the bars.

Every time I so much as have a passing thought of her, the words on my wrist burn and I find myself standing here again. Drinking in this strange feeling of calm emanating from just around the corner. Listening to their even breaths.

'I want to talk to her.'

No sooner had this thought crossed my mind, that the hole in his chest pulsed in mimicry of a distant heartbeat. A surge of rage swells within and I turn to leave.

I step though the Dutchman's wall and emerge in my cabin.

The gleaming keys of the pipe organ glimmer and I find myself drawn to sit and play. As I always am.

A familiar melody fills the air, and my gaze is drawn to the music box. Her gift.

For the first time in years, I stutter over the tune.

The air turns bitter and my soulmark begins to beat, not like a heart, more like a drum. I do something I've never done before; I draw my gaze away from the music box and focus on the keys, not to focus on playing the music box's melody, but to play something new, just to see if I could. With the beat of the bond in my chest and an electrifying spark on my skin, I begin to play.

At first, I test the keys carefully.

A high note here, a low chord there.

Slowly a melody begins to emerge.

Flickering up and down the keys with the unpredictability of flames, accompanied by the steady beat of a blacksmith's hammer at the anvil. Melodies whispering low, then swelling into a crashing crescendo, then drawing back with the unshakeable predictability of the tide.

The pitted surface of the keys, the distant groans of the crew, the creaking of the ship. All begin to fade away as the music fills the air.

The music box is open. I don't remember opening it. The melody

"Calypso."

I don't dare voice the words I wish to accompany her name.

Can I ever be free of you?

A flickering catches my eye, and I look up to see a face reflected in the crusted metal of the organ's pipes.

I hear a sigh. So soft I almost miss it. The tone is relieved, of fear released.

I take a moment to place it before I realise it must be her, in the brig.

I pause. The mark burns again, and I'm suddenly filled with the need to know just what had scared her so.

I stand, clenching my good fist and unable to stop my beard's tentacles writhing as sudden unease grips me.

I almost charge through the walls of the Dutchman, landing heavily outside the brig.

The door lies on the ground, the cell is open and empty.

The cell is empty.

No!

How dare she escape?

Did she leave me?

Where is she?

Conflicting feelings swirl within me; sudden rage at the brazen audacity of the escape, sorrow at the apparent abandonment, and fear...fear that I would never see her again.

These emotions catch me off guard with their strength, but I'm helpless to resist the siren song of their pull.

My soulmark burns and I draw on the strength of the Dutchman and authority as her captain.

Find Her!

(Y/n) Pov:

There isn't a small-boat on this cursed ship.

It makes sense. They never go on land and the ship full of creatures who can breathe underwater wouldn't need a means to escape a sinking ship.

I stop in the shade of the stairs, rubbing my temples to ease the stress headache I can feel building. Crouched under the railing, with the bucket in front of me, so it looks like I'm cleaning the barnacles of the aged wood.

Suddenly there's an unknown pressure. A whisper. Spreading through the crew like a ripple in a pond. Slinking up from the depths of the hold and up onto the deck.

It looms over me, and I fight to catch my breath. Its anger and sorrow clawing at my skull.

Suddenly the ship vibrates as a distant muffled roar-like sound travels up from the hold.

The eyes of the human-looking and distinctly non-human looking crewmen alike all cloud over for a moment, all overtaken by the powerful force seeming to emanate from the very bones of the ship itself.

The crew begin to murmur. Eyes and feelers shifting this way and that.

"Escapee."

"Find the girl."

Oh No!

I quickly slip through the door beside me, wincing as the crew outside begin to shout. The wooden interior is worn and covered in algae like the rest of the ship. Which makes sprinting down the short corridor hazardous. I almost slip down the short stairs at the end, hitting the wall when they twist back on themselves.

There's another door. Heavy and pitted with barnacles, hinges leaking rust. But it opens smoother than I would have thought it would.

There's light. A pale blue light fills the room. Streaming shadows flicker and wave on the ceiling, but there is no pool of water or windows to make these reflections.

The room is a dead end.

A bunk to my left, a chest to my right, and a massive pipe organ dominating the opposite wall. The silver pipes gleam and shimmer and pale bone keys shine bright against the encrusted frame.

I approach the instrument.

Maybe there is a secret lever or a space behind or somewhere I can hide.

Close up, I can make out the pits and scrapes making a pattern of age across many keys, while others are worn smooth; whoever plays this must play the same song a lot.

I reach out and feel around the sides of the organ, before kneeling to look underneath the keys. There's a faded elegance to the organ, and a beauty to the way the coral spirals with the grain of the wood. I knock on the panels below.

Clatter-Clack.

I freeze. Something just fell.

A gentle melody begins to fill the air. I crawl back and something catches on my foot. I awkwardly turn to roll out from under the organ and grab the object.

It's a music box. The sorrowful melody continues to twinkle from the small locket as I pull myself to stand.

My soulmark burns.

"What are ya doing'uh?"

I flinch, almost dropping the locket but I catch myself and instead slam it shut. I spin on the spot and hold the locket behind me like a child caught dipping into the pantry before dinner.

Davy Jones is stood in the centre of the room. Thunder in his eyes and chest heaving like he's run a marathon. He stomps forward to loom over me. "Why are ya here?" and not in the brig.

The music box is freezing in my hands, even as my soulmark continues to throb and burn.

I fish for an excuse, but don't dare step back or lean away. "Um...I..." the reflection of the organ in his eyes catches my attention, "...I heard music..."

The captain's eyebrows (ridges?) raise slightly in surprise.

"It felt nice so I was wondering where it came from." Time to make a gamble. I lean forward slightly, "do you play?"

Something unreadable flashes in his eyes, and his expression darkens.

Oh shit! Subtle shuffling back as the tingle of a bead of sweat drips down my back. This is how I die. I gulp.

Davy Jones' gaze snaps down at the sound before he meets my eye again and steps forward. He circles past me and takes a seat at the organ.

I jump as he starts to play, the air vibrates from the force of the sound coming from the pipe organ. The vibrations from the music reverberate through the deck beneath my feet.

The beat feels familiar.

The vibrations I'd felt earlier, they must have been him.

The music weaves around us, seeping into the wood and coral of the dutchman.

It doesn't look like he will stop anytime soon. I take a hesitant step forward. No movement. I take another, and another, and soon I'm stood beside him.

For a moment, I'm transfixed by the flurry of movement as his hand and beard tentacles fly across the keys. His eyes are closed, brows slightly furrowed.

I know I've never heard this song before, but something about the melody feels familiar. The push and pull of the tide, the steady beat of a hammer on steel, the call of a gull, the crackle of flames.

Something inside me tugs at my heart and the locket is quickly tucked back into its place as I slowly inch closer to the fearsome captain.

There's a space beside him on the seat. If he notices me sit, he doesn't show it.

His eyes are closed, face softened in contemplation. A shadow falls over him from the brim of his hat, outlining the angles and ridges of his face and, when it angles just right, giving me a glimpse of the human face he once bore.

His clawed arm rests on his thigh next to me, the sharp tip resting on the edge of the organ.

I reach a hand forward to rest a finger against the wooden frame of the instrument under the keys; just beside his claw. The vibrations that travel through my hand are soothing.

I can feel the cold brush of his claw against my knuckles. I don't move, either to pull away or place my hand over his arm.

He doesn't move either, just continues playing that hauntingly familiar song.

I close my eyes, taking this moment to rest before I plan my next move.

It sounds like home.

#fanfiction #fanfic #potc #pirates of the caribbean #davy jones #davy jones x reader #potc davy jones #x reader #davy jones x y/n

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iamamythologicalcreature · 1 year ago

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Six Sentence Sunday Climbs Out the Window

Hello all! Thank you for the tags today, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep and @youarenevertooold! And thank you to everyone who has tagged me in the past couple of weeks. I'm woefully behind on reading WIPs-Day posts, so I really appreciate the tagging. It's the only way I'll find them when I'm finally able to read. So please keep tagging me, even if I'm slow to respond. I may have taken on a bit much this month. >.> Anyhoo, on to some WIP sentences! This will be my last teaser before posting the actual Chapter 1 of the @carryon-reverse-bang fic at the end of the month (Oh God it still needs a title...). I've never tried to tease a single chapter for so long lol. Soooo I'm giving you a little slice of Chapter 2, today. Right at the beginning, though! So really no spoilers. Simon's POV continues:

After another quick inspection of the fire damage, I look back to the window. On impulse I check the latch on the window. At first it sticks, but I manage to persuade it open with my usual flare for diplomacy. I breathe in deeply as fresh, green-scented air wafts in, and push the window all the way open. I rest a hip against the sill and lean out a bit, looking around. There’s a wide overhang just under me, and above me… I can’t quite see. (Or maybe I just want the excuse.) I grin a little as I climb out the window onto the slate roof, being careful to test the shingles before each step. Everything’s solid, though. Whoever had this room before it was closed off was one lucky git. I can only imagine having something like this just outside my bedroom window. It nearly makes up for all the gargoyles. Nah, it completely makes up for them.

Simon knows how to make use of a good excuse. And how to sneak out of bedroom windows. (Did we really ever doubt that would be part of his skillset? Nah.) Tags and hello's under the cut!

No pressure and also HI! to @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @leithillustration, @prettygoododds, @rimeswithpurple, @artsyunderstudy, @ic3-que3n, @blackberrysummerblog, @shrekgogurt, @aristocratic-otter, @hushed-chorus, @nightimedreamersworld, @best--dress, @whatevertheweather, @ileadacharmedlife, @theearlgreymage, @thewholelemon, @alexalexinii, @scribble-tier, @imagineacoolusername, @cutestkilla, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @alleycat0306, @angelsfalling16, @fatalfangirl, @erzbethluna, @tender-ministrations, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @katmiscellanious, @anxious-m3ss, @raenestee, @ebbpettier, @bubble-gumhead

#I know nothing about slate shingles #it's possible I've just written Simon into falling to his doom #the end!#no it's cool he has wings right?#if he does die it will be doing what he loves #impulsively charging into an unknown situation #snowbaz #six sentence sunday #simon snow #carry on #simon snow series #the simon snow trilogy #carry on fanfiction #yeah there's a haunted mansion involved #I'll give you that one for free #since it's not exactly subtly hidden #srsly tho I need a title #jodofic

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indeedcaptain · 1 year ago

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Spirktober 2023, day 2: Running

I'm doing these all out of order, I know, but I'm having a grand old time. Wahoo!!

Also, if anyone is seeing these and wants to request stuff alongside the Spirktober prompts, just let me know :)

Also posted on AO3 here.

☆ ☆ ☆

As a general rule, Spock knew many things. He knew the planet they were on (Aldux II), the language of the intelligent lifeforms that had lived on the planet since the beginning of their history (called D’xian, with a case system suspiciously similar to Russian), and how long they had been on the planet for (16.8 hours). He knew that his stride length was 62.25 inches. He knew that he was fond of this number, as it was also Lieutenant Uhura’s height. He knew that he had been running for 2.4 hours.

He knew that his last two security officers had fallen away 528 strides ago, and that one of them --- Ensign Karros, who smiled at him illogically at least twice an hour and was a vicious student of Suus Mahna --- had gasped, “Keep going,” at him even as she staggered to her knees, clutching her chest. He knew that his footfalls were the only ones he could hear, that his heartbeat was thrumming uncomfortably in his side, and that the small package of antibiotics in a pouch slung across his chest was the most valuable material on the planet at this moment. He knew that it there was a one in ten chance that the ion storm swirling in the atmosphere over his head would create conditions nonconducive to life, specifically his, at some point during this trek, but he also knew that he was the only member of the crew who could conceivably cover the significant distance between hospitals faster than the storm would dissipate naturally.

He did not know how the other hospital was faring. He did not know if his captain was still alive. He did not know if Dr. McCoy was still with him, or if he would be available to synthesize the antibiotic quickly enough to distribute to the crew of the Enterprise and what remained of the D’xian population.

Sometimes he thought that continually running into the boundary of his knowledge about the universe would eventually kill him. His mind would revolt at the illogical things he had to do to survive, or he would learn something on some planet that would destabilize the foundations of his life, and he would lay down and curl up and go to sleep forever. He knew, however, that today would not be that day. He was not content to give up when he, stronger and faster and more durable than his human crewmates, was the last man standing, to borrow a human phrase. If McCoy was not available, he would synthesize the antibiotic himself. He knew that, although he was not a doctor, he knew enough about chemistry to do it. He knew that he would rather run until his heart stopped than die without knowing what had happened to the captain.

So he ran.

☆ ☆ ☆

Spock knew, by the time the hospital building appeared in his vision, that he had destroyed the soles of his feet. Starfleet standard-issue boots were many valuable things: they were waterproof, rubber-soled, useful for climbing and standing and walking. He doubted that the Fabrication and the Material Construction team had ever tested the boots as he had today. He had run for 5.2 hours; his lungs ached, his heart pounded unsteadily, and he had turned off all sensation from his feet after the third hour. He did not want to think about the state of his skin and bones. Even Vulcan skin blistered eventually.

He slowed to a walk as he approached the building and called, as loudly as his chest could manage, “Dr. McCoy!”

Relief. Illogical, irrational, overwhelming relief flooded him as McCoy stuck his head out of a second-story window and looked down at him.

“Spock?” Disbelief dripped from the single syllable. “How the hell did you get here?”

Wrong question, thought Spock. He lifted the pouch that had bounced against his chest for the better part of the day. “I have the antibiotic.”

“How did you get here?” McCoy said again, and then he vanished from the window. Spock finally, finally came to a halt, standing outside what he estimated was the front door.

McCoy cracked it open and stuck his tricorder through. “You’re not infected, are you?”

“I do not believe so, doctor.” But the tricorder whirred and dinged, and when McCoy read the screen he opened the door fully. Spock handed the pouch to McCoy and had to use more mental effort than average to exert enough control to keep his hands from shaking.

McCoy took the pouch and flipped open the top flap, confirming that the three little glass bottles inside were whole. He looked up at Spock with none of his usual animosity. “I thought the ion storm made their transporters and ours useless.”

“It did, doctor. I brought the antibiotic.” The numbness that Spock had intentionally blanketed over his feet was spreading up his calves. This change in sensation was concerning, but likely not life-threatening.

“The other hospital was eighty kilometers from here,” McCoy said suspiciously, but he led Spock deeper into the cool building. The circulating air felt pleasant against his skin, and as they walked his heart rate started to slow.

“I am aware of the distance. Had it been closer, I would have arrived sooner.”

They entered a laboratory. This planet, unlike many of the others they had visited on their exploratory mission, was scientifically advanced. The D’xians were curious by nature, and becoming a scientist was both a professional and a social achievement. Spock found himself unwilling to consider the possibilities of what would have happened if they had been struck by the same virus on a planet without a fully functioning biological laboratory. If there hadn’t been a virus, if there hadn’t been an ion storm that blocked Mr. Scott from simply beaming Spock from one hospital to another, if it had been anyone but the captain who lay gasping on a hospital bed… it was not logical to consider alternative outcomes. This was the future that had happened.

They set to replicating the success of the other hospital’s scientists immediately. Despite their frequent arguments, Spock thought that he and McCoy made reasonably efficient labmates. McCoy talked to himself too much, and talked to Spock more than he preferred, but he knew what he was doing and he was the only other person, besides himself, that Spock trusted to keep the captain safe.

His entire lower body was numb, and his hands shook, but he assisted McCoy until McCoy slapped one of the machines happily and hoisted the first replicated dose of the antibiotic up into the air. “Got it,” he said grimly, and marched immediately from the room. Spock followed.

The room that McCoy led him to had only one occupant. He lay quietly in a narrow hospital bed, the only movement the shallow rise and fall of his chest beneath a threadbare blanket. This hospital’s equipment was different than that of the Enterprise, and Spock found himself discomfited by the difference in noises from this hospital’s machines.

McCoy loaded the antibiotic into a hypo and drove the needle into the captain’s neck. Without the captain’s customary wince and complaint, the action seemed like one-half of a duet: incomplete. They waited in silence for fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds.

Fifty-three seconds after the hypo pierced the captain’s skin, his eyes opened. His eyes---their color muted in the dim light of the room---landed on McCoy. “Hey, Bones,” Captain Kirk said softly. “Why don’t you ever buy me dinner first?”

“Jesus, Jim,” McCoy said, and laughed with relief. “Give a man a break. Didn’t want you to choke to death on a pill you couldn’t swallow.” The captain smiled at the doctor, and then his eyes flicked to Spock.

“Mr. Spock,” he said, voice thick with hushed delight. “I thought you were up north. Is the storm over, then?” He sat up, flexing his hands. His hands were brown, the backs tanned and dusted with freckles. It never ceased to amaze Spock that the captain was covered in freckles despite his infrequent exposure to any sun.

“Spock?” The captain’s voice was concerned. Spock realized that he had been staring at the captain’s hands for approximately nine seconds, that he could not remember what he was supposed to be saying, and that the numbness had spread to his neck. He looked down and assured himself that his body was still connected to his head.

He cleared his throat. “No, captain. The storm continues.”

The captain and Dr. McCoy continued to stare at him, some emotion he couldn’t identify rising on both of their faces. Perhaps they hadn’t heard him. “The storm…” he said again, but he forgot what he was saying.

He felt liquid on his upper lip, and raised a hand to it. His fingers came away green.

“Mr. Spock!” The captain stood abruptly and moved towards him.

“Why don’t you sit, Spock?” Dr. McCoy approached him, hands outstretched.

Sitting seemed like a logical idea. To maximize efficiency, he collapsed instead.

☆ ☆ ☆

The healing trance ended as suddenly as it began. Spock opened his eyes to see both the familiar tiled ceiling of the Enterprise’s own Medbay and the captain and the doctor hovering nearby.

“Captain,” Spock said. His throat was dry. It came out as more of a croak.

“What the hell were you thinking? Eighty kilometers?” Spock’s eyes found the captain’s.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one, captain,” he said. His captain rubbed one hand over his face in a familiar and exasperated gesture. “I estimated that it would not be significantly more taxing than running through the Forge.”

“And did you estimate your footwear, and the atmosphere, and differences in gravity?”

“Naturally,” Spock said. “I used all data available to me.” He did not add that he had never run for five straight hours through the Forge, and that it was actually easier for him to run in dry heat than in the cool and damp humidity of Aldux II, or what he was considering to mean ‘significant’ in this situation. He had survived. The captain did not need to know.

The captain sat heavily into the chair next to Spock’s bed, placed one hand on Spock’s forearm, and squeezed. Through the contact Spock was deluged with his emotions, as forceful as a hurricane: anger, concern, pride, affection, warmth, and Spock was gratified to learn that his captain was impressed by his display of athleticism.

“I estimated the odds of your survival based on my action or inaction, captain,” Spock said quietly. Across the room, Dr. McCoy began loudly clattering materials on the medical cart by the door. Through his captain’s hand, he felt the other man’s affection and concern pulse up his arm like a heartbeat.

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” Jim said quietly. “I thought you might have. Would it change your behavior at all if I asked you to be more careful in the future?”

“I am careful, captain,” Spock said, affronted. Careful with you, he thought.

Spock knew many things. Despite the illogic of it, despite his best attempts to meditate it away, he knew this: that he would protect his captain, even at his own expense, until his katra was returned to the stars.

#spirktober2023 #spirktober #kirk/spock #k/s #spirk #star trek fan fiction #spirk fan fiction #my writing #s'chn t'gai spock #:) i love him #spirktober 2023

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oraclekleo · 7 months ago

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Update:

So I have been up to some things during the weekend, was pretty busy.

My sister came for a visit and because she went by car, she brought me a water melon! Yummy! It's 18 kg, though. I still have a second half of it here with me. It's so much of a water melon! 😂 They didn't have smaller in the store. So I guess I'm just gonna eat nothing else but a melon today (just as I did yesterday and day before... too much of a water melon).

My sister also volunteered to be my test dummy for me to learn how to hypnotise people. It went well from the beginning. I managed to calibrate my voice to a calming monotonous tone, I was slowly guiding her towards calm and relaxation of her body... Then I wanted to guide her to the deepest level of calm and relaxation and the usual way how to do it is to tell the person you are hypnotising to imagine themselves at the top of stairs and with each step down they take, they become more and more relaxed and calm, right? So I did just that and...

MY DUMBASS SISTER TRIPPED ON THE VERY FIRST STEP OF THE IMAGINARY STAIRS AND ROLLED DOWN!

No joke! I told her to take a first step and she suddenly twitched and started laughing telling me she tripped on the stairs! How wrecked does your brain have to be that it makes you trip on imaginary stairs? 😂 So there was no way we could continue. We will try again next time but I'll probably use different metaphor than the stairs. 😂

Apart from making my sister roll down imaginary stairs, I was sorting clothes this weekend. It's becoming hotter so I need to unpack the summer clothes. I also still have so much of mom's clothes here. She passed away nearly a year ago and it's time for me to just put it all away but it's pretty hard to do. I'm gonna be donating a great deal of of it all to charity. But it's not a finished process, there's still a lot of work to be done.

I have also set up a little private tarot corner for myself.

It's cute and in a place where my home office screens and laptop used to be.

I also had a weird dream... I described it to my friend so let me just copy/paste the messages so I don't have to type it all down again:

Although… I did have a dream last night… No dogs involved 😂 Which is already weird, right? But it was like… I had a guy friend… I don't remember his face clearly… I only know he had like black longer and slightly wavy hair. Probably a latino type? I'm not sure. Anyway! I was on video call with him and while the dogs weren't present in the dream, he said he liked the last vid I shared where I cuddled Dachi in the morning in bed (why would I record it and also share with anyone, I don't know) and that he's envious of it. And because it's something I hear all the time that people are envious about my dogs' life, I was just joking about it. But he seemed to be a bit fixated on the topic and started to asking what he would have to do to be also cuddled like that by me. And clearly we had a video call because he was far away so I brought up the geographical distance. And he suggested he could visit me and kept asking whether I would give him a cuddle and head scratch (thanks for putting this into my dreams, btw.) if he came for a visit. So I wanted to turn it into a joke and told him only if he wears a collar. I'm starting to feel like I'm dodging a bullet in the dream but that guy says he's booking a flight right now. And then I woke up because dogs smelled a fox a or cat outside through the open windows or something and growled and barked… Anyway, in like 2 minutes I fell back asleep And I was back in that dream only… like… later on. And I was living in my own house, not in an apartment. In a house with a garden. And interestingly enough with one of my former co-workers as my roommate (female co-worker). But the house still had like guest bedroom and this latino vibe giving guy for a visit and was in that guest room, apparently. And in that dream… It's a bit confusing for a little. I think he sent me a text message that he's waiting in bed for the morning cuddles and also sent a me selfie with him wearing a collar. I still have no idea what his face looked like but the collar was purple… like bright purple colour. I did went to see him in the bedroom. He did have a pretty torso and neck, yes 🤣 And I remember like combing his hair with my fingers and his hair was like really nice, too. That was good. I don't know what products he used but worked great 😂 I should have asked… Yeah… This guy was like purring and burying his face into my neck as I was scratching his head. That was a bit… too touchy for my usual taste but clearly I didn't mind in the dream too much. I mean, I also usually don't have this type of dreams. Must be all the audios I listen to recently 😂 They start rewiring my brain to be more open towards physical intimacy

So yeah... That's what I have been up to this weekend.

How did you do?

#oracle kleo #psa #update

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helianskies · 29 days ago

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RomeSpa, prompt 2!

your wish is my command ✨️

Headache

The lunch service ends in a whirlwind and Antonio finally finds a moment to sit down, wipe his brow, and catch his breath.

There’s an hour and a half to go until the dinner service is underway, and, to be quite honest, he’s not sure if he’s going to make it. He’s tired, his back is already starting to feel sore, and he’s had this incredibly annoying headache all day that just won’t budge! It isn’t that he wants to even go home, but today… Today is going to test him. He knows it.

His head hangs in his hand. A glass of water keeps him company as he sits on his favourite table, tucked in a corner out of view of both kitchen and front windows. He could squeeze in a nap. Hop in his car, lie down, close his eyes. Sleep it off. Sleep off an oncoming bad mood, before he had to deal with more members of the general public…

It’s a nice idea the more he thinks about it. Trouble is, getting to his car means being seen, and he doesn’t much like the idea of any of his colleagues watching him go to his car and taking that nap. So he scraps the idea. Maybe he’ll nab a coffee from behind the bar—

“Ah, I thought you might be hiding around here.”

“Oh—”

Antonio blinks and fixes his posture, slapping a clumsy smile on his face. Another person sits down at the table with him, and that person just so happens to be the owner of the restaurant. His boss. Someone he really doesn’t want to see him like this for reasons he would never divulge.

His face warms. He begins to fiddle with his own fingers on the tabletop.

“I didn’t realise you were coming in so early today,” he says.

The other hums. “Neither did I. But I had this feeling I should, so here I am.”

“Is everything okay?” Antonio presses, his brows furrowing slightly. “Did you… need me for something?”

“Well, I did, and still do, but that is something we can discuss later,” replies Romolo as he makes himself comfortable. “Before that, are you okay?”

The server battles against a wince, and gives a slow nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Absolutely. Why?”

“You seem a bit… unlike yourself,” Romolo observes. There is a glint in his eyes that hints at something—a forbidden knowledge—and he continues: “Have you eaten yet today?”

The question leaves Antonio defenceless. He is so taken aback that he is unable to respond either convincingly or in time, and it leaves the other assuming what is, by all accounts, the truth. But a truth that Antonio does not care for.

“I’m going to get you something to eat,” Romolo says, immediately scooting his chair back.

Antonio interrupts him swiftly, not wanting him to go—not wanting the other to think badly of him.

“I’m fine. Really,” he insists.

“You don’t look fine,” Romolo argues. At least, for now, he is still seated.

“I’m just a bit tired,” Antonio goes on warily. “I’ve got a headache. That’s all.”

His boss stares at him. He stares, surveying his employee’s face, before he asks, “So have you eaten today?”

Antonio takes a slow breath. There’s no use in denying it at this point, because Romolo’s mind is already made up and, well, perhaps skipping breakfast had been a bad idea (and a contributing factor to his state). That doesn’t mean he’s happy about admitting it, though!

He feels only more foolish, in fact. He feels it will only make others judge or pity him, and neither is an outcome he wants. That's not what he needs. Not right before work. Not before another service.

“Do I need to send you home?”

Antonio’s hand falls down to the table and he gives Romolo a look that contains a sort of warning, and a sort of ‘polite notice’. His back twinges.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Romolo correctly deduces with a chuckle. A soft but warm one, like rays of sunshine on a crisp autumn morning…

(It is a distraction, the alluring tendrils of a fantasy; Antonio has to rescue himself from it fast, lest he be lost in it for too long.)

Suspicions confirmed, Romolo gets up from his seat and clamps a hand down gently upon Antonio’s shoulder as he goes to leave that quiet corner of his restaurant. “I will be quick and sly as the fox, mh? Come see me in my office in five minutes. You can eat in private there if you like.”

With a somewhat surprised look on his face, Antonio looks up at Romolo, and a smile once more glides onto his face. It’s a kindness he’s never expected, but… knowing Romolo, it is expected in some ways. He has a good heart. He cares about his staff. He means well. And damn… Antonio has come to find that somewhat painfully attractive about him.

Yeah. Yeah, that is Antonio’s situation. A big headache in one hand, and a different kind of headache in the form of a silly little crush on a man over twice his age. His own boss! No biggie!

Antonio sighs. It’s his own doing. He’s the one still working there. He could have left. He could have done the sensible thing. But he likes his job, likes his colleagues, likes his boss, and, well… looking for a new job would just be another headache, wouldn’t it?

So he sits there and waits for the minutes to slowly pass. Then he gets up from his seat and he makes his way to the back of the restaurant and Romolo’s office.

Inside, it isn’t Romolo but a toasted panini that awaits him, melted mozzarella glooping down onto a plate. And next to it sit a glass of water, and a lone packet of painkillers.

Damn him!

[ find prompts here! ] [ fic collection on ao3! ]

#helia answers #helia writes #hws spain #hws rome #romespa #look i was feelin lazy abt romes name okay im not a huge fan of romolo but just roll with it okay #im tired ♡#planning on moving onto new winter/festive prompts shortly btwwwww #👀

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jcmarchi · 7 months ago

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Commencement address by Noubar Afeyan PhD ’87

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/commencement-address-by-noubar-afeyan-phd-87/

Commencement address by Noubar Afeyan PhD ’87

Below is the text of MIT alumnus Noubar Afeyan’s Commencement remarks, as prepared for delivery on May 30.

Thank you, Mark, for that generous but somewhat embarrassing introduction.

President Kornbluth, trustees and faculty, students and families, guests, and members of this remarkable community of scholars and solvers: It’s a special honor to be with you today.

Graduates, I once sat where you now sit, brimming with excitement and the sense of accomplishment that comes with a hard-won MIT diploma. Congratulations!

Families, as the father of two MIT alums, I know first-hand the pride and emotion you feel today.

Faculty members, as a senior lecturer here for 16 years, I saw up close how well you prepare these graduates for what lies ahead. And fellow trustees, it is a great privilege to serve alongside you.

I spent my childhood in Beirut, Lebanon. Three generations of my proud Armenian family shared an apartment on the ninth floor of our building. The window in the bedroom I shared with my great aunt looked out over the red-tiled roofs of Roman, Ottoman, and Byzantine buildings and beyond to the Mediterranean Sea.

When civil war erupted in 1975 and the government imposed strict curfews, the state broadcaster often shifted from airing three hours of TV a day to offering round-the-clock programming of mostly American television shows, a diversion for my brothers and me when we were forced to stay inside.

One show in particular had me captivated. Just hearing the theme song would set my heart racing — perhaps you know it, too.

That’s right… “Mission Impossible”!

Even if you never saw the TV show, you likely know the movies with Tom Cruise as agent Ethan Hunt.

The encoded self-destructing message to the agent always began the same way: “Your mission, should you choose to accept it …”

No matter how long the odds, or how great the risk, the agents always took the assignment.

In the fifty years since, I have been consistently drawn to impossible missions, and today I hope to convince each and every one of you that you should be too.

Play video

Class of 2024, one incredibly challenging mission is already under your belt: You were given the assignment to begin your studies at MIT … without being at MIT. Going to college, without going to college, was not a mission you’d signed up for, but it is what you got. A handful of you did move to campus, but even for you, masking, testing, social distancing, and virtual classes meant orienting to a foreign land. You even learned a new language, as terms like “Q-week” and “SCUFFY” entered your MIT lexicon. No one knew what would happen next, or when it would all end.

And yet, you found ways to thrive. You dove into your coursework and started to build mostly virtual friendships. In the words of your classmate Amber Velez, who rented a Cambridge apartment with three MIT roommates, you “patched together a little lifeboat in this vast sea of students, spread out over the world.”

Earlier that year, just up the road in Kendall Square, my colleagues and I at Moderna had received another mission that seemed impossible: Develop a safe and effective vaccine that could save lives, restart the economy, and do so in less than a year. Oh, and while you are at it, get a billion doses manufactured, distributed, and into the arms of people around the world.

It was clear that if we accepted this challenge, it would take everything we had. We would have to slow 20 ongoing drug-development programs and focus on solving COVID.

We embraced the mission!

Just 48 hours after Moderna obtained the sequence for the SARS-CoV-2 spike protein, we deployed our mRNA technology to produce a potent vaccine. Less than two months later, we enrolled our first patient in a clinical trial, and on November 16th, the vaccine was determined to be 94.5% effective against Covid-19. By some estimates, Moderna’s vaccine saved over 2 million lives during the pandemic.

How did we do it? That’s another speech for another day.

But what I do want to talk about is what it takes to accept your own impossible missions and why you, as graduates of MIT, are uniquely prepared to do so.

Uniquely prepared – and also obligated.

At a time when the world is beset by crises, your mission is nothing less than to salvage what seems lost, reverse what seems inevitable, and save the planet.

And just like the agents in the movies, you need to accept the mission – even if it seems impossible. I know the odds don’t appear to be in your favor. But this age of polycrisis is also a moment of poly-opportunity, fueled by artificial intelligence, machine learning, quantum computing, and other modern technologies that are changing the world faster than people believe is possible.

Now, you are uniquely equipped to turn science fiction into science reality.

With the right mindsets, “Mission Impossible” can become “Mission Improbable” – as you overcome obstacles and seemingly long odds by imagining and innovating your way to novel solutions.

So: How do you go about that? How do you become the agents the world needs you to be?

You already have a head start, quite a significant one. You graduate today from MIT, and that says volumes about your knowledge, talent, vision, passion, and perseverance – all essential attributes of the elite 21st century agent. Oh, and I forgot to mention our relaxed uncompetitive nature, outstanding social skills, and the overall coolness that characterizes us MIT grads.

More seriously, you are trained in science, mathematics, engineering, and technology – fields that, when properly harnessed and supported, can be deployed against almost any seemingly impossible challenge.

You may not realize it yet, but your MIT education has given you a superpower – like X-ray vision – that lets you see through the illusion of impossibility and surface the blueprints for solutions.

And as of today, you even have a secret decoder ring, better known as the Brass Rat!

MIT’s history underscores these special powers. The telephone, digital circuits, radar, email, Internet, the Human Genome Project, controlled drug delivery, magnetic confinement fusion energy, artificial intelligence and all it is enabling – these and many more breakthroughs emerged from the work of extraordinary change agents tied to MIT.

Now let me ask you a question: Aside from MIT, what do such agents have in common? What equips them to accomplish seemingly impossible missions?

I’d argue that they do three things that make big leaps possible. They imagine, they innovate, and they immigrate.

And now, it’s your turn.

Start by unleashing your imagination.

People often see imagination as the exclusive province of the arts: of movie making, literature, painting.

I think that’s nonsense. Imagination, to my mind, is the foundational building block of breakthrough science.

I am not making an argument against reason. Reason has a role to play, but in accomplishing impossible missions, it’s the servant, not the master. You can’t expect reasoning to do the work of imagination. At its best, scientific research is a profoundly creative endeavor.

You have mastered proofs, and problem sets, and design projects, but in the words of mathematician and author Lewis Carroll: “Imagination is the only weapon in the war with reality.”

To the great Irish writer George Bernard Shaw, its role is even more fundamental. As he put it:

“Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine and at last you create what you will.”

It is also your turn to innovate. Think of innovation as imagination in action. Or, perhaps, mens et manus, or “mind and hand,” but I hear that line is taken.

MIT did not prepare you to shy away from the unknown, quite the contrary. You are now prepared to leap for the stars, sometimes quite literally — just ask the more than 40 NASA astronauts with MIT degrees.

Leaps often involve unreasonable or even seemingly crazy ideas. Ordinary innovations are often judged by how reasonable the idea is as an extension of what already exists, and how reasonable the person proposing it is.

But ask yourself: Why do we expect extraordinary results from reasonable people doing reasonable things?

As you’ve probably guessed by now, I am utterly unreasonable, and an eternal optimist. As a lifelong entrepreneur and innovator, I have to be.

But I’ve always practiced a special kind of optimism – I call it paranoid optimism. This means toggling back and forth between extreme optimism and deep-seated doubt.

The kind of paranoid optimism needed to make scientific or technological leaps often starts with an act of faith. By that, I mean belief without facts — the very definition of faith.

I know faith is generally associated with religion. But interestingly, in my experience, pioneering science also starts with faith. You take leaps of faith and then you do experiments.

On rare occasions, the experiments work, converting your leap of faith into scientific reality.

What a thrill when that happens!

On your innovation journey, beyond optimism and faith, you will also need the courage of your convictions. Make no mistake, you leave MIT as special agents in demand. As you consider your many options, I urge you to think hard about what legacy you want to leave — and to do this periodically throughout your life.

Not every mission you are qualified for is a mission worth accepting. You are far more than a technologist – you are a moral actor. The choice to maximize solely for profits and power will in the end leave you hollow.

To forget this is to fail the world — and ultimately to fail yourself.

I know many of you here – and some in the Class of 2024 not with us here today — are deeply troubled by the conflicts and tragedies we are witnessing. As an Armenian, descended from genocide survivors, and co-founder of the Aurora Humanitarian Initiative, I feel deeply the wounds of these conflicts.

I wish I had answers for all of us, but of course, I don’t.

But I do know this: having conviction should not be confused with having all the answers. Over my many years engaged in entrepreneurship and humanitarian philanthropy, I have learned that there is enormous benefit in questioning what you think you know, listening to people who think differently, and seeking common ground.

As you grapple with today’s hard choices — and the many that lie ahead — rely again on your imagination. Imagine the world you want to create and work backwards from there. Be open to the many paths that could carry you towards this goal and let the journey inform which ones will succeed.

I’ve urged you to imagine, and to innovate. The last thing I want to leave you with is the need to immigrate.

I’ll say more about what I mean by “immigrate” in a second, but first I want to give a shout-out to others who, like me, have left their homelands.

For those of you who have emigrated here from far away, or whose parents did, or whose grandparents did, please stand.

I applaud you.

It may often feel like a disadvantage, but you will soon learn it is quite the opposite.

When I first arrived at MIT, I worried I did not belong here: I spoke with an accent, my pastime wasn’t hockey or lacrosse, but Armenian folk dance.

Then one afternoon, late in my first year here, I was walking down the infinite corridor when a poster caught my eye. Staring back from the poster was a Native American chief in full headdress, eyes defiant, finger pointed, seemingly right at me. The poster read: “Who Are You Calling Immigrant, Pilgrim??”

I can’t tell you what an impact that had on me. Aside from Native Americans, we all, at some point, come from somewhere else. It helped me realize I belonged here — at MIT, in the United States. And graduates, families, YOU. DO. TOO.

But here’s the really interesting thing I’ve learned over the years: You don’t need to be from elsewhere to immigrate.

If the immigrant experience can be described as leaving familiar circumstances and being dropped into unknown territory, I would argue that every one of you also arrived at MIT as an immigrant, no matter where you grew up.

And as MIT immigrants, you are all at an advantage when it comes to impossible missions. You’ve left your comfort zone, you’ve entered unchartered territory, you’ve foregone the safety of the familiar. Yet, you persist and survive. You figure out how to accomplish your mission.

Like elite agents, immigrants are the ultimate innovators, equipped to navigate obstacles, to never say never. In fact, I often describe innovation as intellectual immigration. Just like those of us who emigrate from other countries, innovators pioneer new environments seeking a better future — not just for themselves but also for the larger world. So, whether you grew up in Cambodia, or in California, or right here in Cambridge, you can immigrate – and you need to keep immigrating. You need to leave your comfort zone, to think in new ways, to acclimate to the unfamiliar and embrace uncertainty.

If you imagine, innovate, and immigrate, you are destined to a life of uncertainty. Being surrounded by uncertainty can be unnerving, but it’s where you need to be. This is where the treasure lies. It’s Ground Zero for breakthroughs.

Don’t conflate uncertainty and risk — or think of it as extreme risk. Uncertainty isn’t high risk; it’s unknown risk. It is, in essence, opportunity.

I began with a TV show; I’ll end with a movie — the most recent Mission Impossible film released just last summer.

The film is a daunting reminder of all that your generation is up against: complicated geopolitics, climate threats and technological pressures, and AI tools that will both simplify and complicate our world.

But graduates, as I look at all of you, I see a large team of agents who are entirely capable of completing your missions. I see agents for good, agents for change.

MIT has prepared you to tackle impossible missions.

To harness the future and bend it toward the light.

My wish for you, my fervent hope, is that you not only choose to accept impossible missions, you embrace them. Welcome long odds. Embrace uncertainty, and lead with imagination.

Approach the unknown with the courage, the confidence, and the curiosity of an immigrant. With paranoia and optimism.

And always remember the strength of working in teams. Show the world why Mission-Impossible-Team inevitably shorthands to M – I – T.

Graduates, set forth on your impossible missions. Accept them. Embrace them. The world needs you, and it’s your turn to star in the action-adventure called your life.

Thank you.

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