#the freezer has been leaking since before i moved in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago

Note

Bestie could you write Bucky with a lactation kink (in the notes you said either, so maybe with milk involved 🥺)

Absolutely omg 💗

Because I imagine Bucky is really considerate after your baby is born. Like, really considerate. There's no pressure, there's not even really any suggestion of sex from him, he's entirely waiting on you to bring it up so you feel comfortable.

He doesn't feel the need to press you on it anyway, your marriage is perfect regardless and the lack of sex doesn't stop the frantic make out sessions in bed at night. The evenings where you roll around in bed together, needy and frustrated but well aware that your body isn't ready yet.

It's passionate and intimate, your blood pounding in your ears because it's been so long since you had that release and you're starting to desperately crave it.

"Fuck baby, is this okay?" Bucky whispers between kisses, his eyes trained on your face as he begins to run his hand under the little tank top you wore to bed.

"Yeah Buck, that's nice." You whimper back, groaning as his touch becomes a little more desperate. You feel messy, open mouthed kisses nipped into your soft skin and you can't help but whine because you want him as badly as he wants you.

His kisses move a little lower and you know he's allowing himself to get carried away. He's still so mindful of you and your comfort but feeling this close to his wife again has him practically trembling with need.

"Sweetheart, you might need to pump again, you're leaking a little." He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or embarrassed but as he shifts lower he notices the wet patches in the front of your top, swallowing thickly at the sight. He can't explain it but there's something so incredible to him about the way your body has provided for your baby. Even throughout your pregnancy, he was very vocal about how much he loved how your body was developing and that's still the case now.

"I can't keep up with it at the minute, babe. They're leaking constantly. We have so much milk the freezer, I'm not even sure we'll need it all." You can't help but feel a little frustrated because no matter how hard you try, you can't keep up with your body and you almost feel like it's killed such a passionate moment between you and Bucky.

That is, until you look up at his face. He hasn't taken his eyes off your breasts, appreciating how full and heavy and swollen they look.

"I-is this okay?" He asks tentatively, pulling the front of your tank top down, exposing your nipples to the cool air and as soon as you nod, his mouth is on you, sucking on one of the firm buds. You don't quite expect the low moan that he lets out, your milk leaking onto his waiting tongue. He hums appreciatively as he laps at your body, savouring every drop but conscious not to hurt you since you're so sensitive.

"Fuck, you taste so good." He groans after pulling away from that nipple, focusing his attention on the other.

"Feels good Buck, m-missed your mouth on me so badly." You gasp, finding yourself arching your back to press your nipple into his mouth. You can't believe how turned on you are just from seeing Bucky's eyes flutter shut, clearly enjoying this just as much as you are.

"Bucky please baby, rub me. Oh God, I can't, 's so good." You gasp, the need becoming unbearable and he's more than happy to give you what you want. His flesh hand dips into your little shorts, his mouth never leaving your breast as he starts to rub tight, perfect circles on your throbbing clit. He knows your body like the back of his hand and that includes how to get you off within minutes.

That's really all it takes before you're cumming, grinding your hips against his fingers and muffling your own little sobs so as not to risk waking the sleeping baby. It's totally euphoric, feeling his wet, insistent mouth on your nipple as he coaxes such an intense orgasm from you. It's the first you've had in far too long and it truly couldn't possibly get any better.

"Oh babygirl, I know that felt good. You're shaking sweetheart, come here." He whispers softly when you're done. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before pulling you onto his chest and cuddling you close to him, letting you fall asleep to the sound of his little praises.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #I didn't mean for this to get so long #*cries in I hate my nips*#I have a burning hatred of having to get them out #not that getting them out is something I find myself having to do often #but you know #it's a shame bc I like my 🍒 they're a nice size #but I hate my nips

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lilyrachelcassidy · 4 years ago

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Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place.

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't.

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

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eusuntgratie · 4 years ago

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"I hope it's okay I went through your closet," Dylan calls from the bedroom as Tyler drops his keys in the bowl and toes off his shoes.

It's freaking hot and the AC has been busted for the last three days. It's been a test of their relationship, seeing as Dylan handles heat really poorly.

Tyler shuffles through to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer. He tells himself he only bought it for Dylan, but he's pretty sure Dylan will convince him to have some. Not before patting Tyler's abs and saying "I think you can handle it, baby", of course. (Just like with that pizza last week.)

He's just pouring himself some water when Dylan snakes an arm around his waist and nuzzles into his neck.

"Mmm, you smell disgusting," Dylan says. "All sweaty and gross." He nuzzles Tyler some more, rubbing his cheek against Tyler's stubble.

Tyler turns in Dylan's arms and stops short when he sees what Dylan is wearing for the first time.

A familiar looking crop top and a pair of short shorts that hang nearly indecently off of his hips. Tyler nearly chokes as he swallows a mouthful of water and Dylan smirks.

Tyler trails a finger over the hair on Dylan's stomach, just below his navel and Dylan shudders. His stomach immediately starts to goose bump and Tyler can't help but press his fingers over the sensitive skin. Dylan lets out a low whine.

"You look obscene,' Tyler murmurs, hooking a finger in the waistband of Dylan's (his) shorts and pulling him closer, not before seeing enough skin to know Dylan isn't wearing underwear. "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Some idea, yeah," Dylan says, and nestles in closer, pushing up against Tyler's thigh so Tyler can feel how hard he is. "Same thing you do to me."

Tyler practically moans before shoving Dylan back and around so he's pinned against the freezer, before sinking to his knees, Dylan's (his) short shorts hiding nothing from this angle.

He mouths at the fabric and Dylan lets out a whine. Tyler runs a hand over the hair on Dylan's thigh, pressing in to where the skin is soft and there's this one freckle, Tyler's favourite freckle. He replaces his hand with his mouth and laps over it with his tongue.

"Stop teasing," Dylan grinds out. "You're awful." He bucks his hips towards Tyler's face and Tyler presses a hand to Dylan's stomach to hold him in place, before tugging down the flimsy fabric of the short shorts to reveal Dylan's dick, hard and leaking, like something out of Tyler's dirtiest fantasies.

He presses a kiss to the very tip and Dylan lets out a sound like he's dying, so Tyler opens his mouth and takes Dylan down, relaxing his throat as Dylan nudges the back of it.

Dylan tries to move again and Tyler hums around him and pressed him harder against the freezer, pulling off before taking him down again, wet and sloppy, drooling because Dylan isn't small by any means.

Dylan's already close, has probably been close since he first got the idea to put on Tyler's old clothes, and Tyler lets his other hand grab at Dylan's ass a little, before sneaking a finger close to the cleft between his cheeks. He rubs over the hole, pressing in ever so slightly, and Dylan chokes out a warning that Tyler ignores, swallowing hard as Dylan comes.

He leans back, tucking Dylan back into his shorts, and looks up at Dylan. He knows he looks debauched and that in about twenty minutes Dylan will want to fuck him and that he'll let him, because he's stupid over this man and all the ideas he gets in his head.

"So pretty," Dylan murmurs, running a hand through Tyler's hair, deliberately mussing it up. "So goddamn pretty."

Dylan pulls Tyler to his feet and Tyler goes willingly, letting Dylan drag him in for a kiss and letting Dylan taste himself on Tyler's tongue.

When they part for a minute to catch their breath, Dylan leans his forehead against Tyler's and Tyler knows he's smiling.

"Good idea?" He asks, and places Tyler's hand on his bare stomach.

"Very good idea," Tyler replies.

"Can I fuck you now?" Dylan asks, and presses a small kiss to the side of Tyler's mouth, at odds with what he just said. He's a study in contradiction.

"You're full of good ideas today, huh?" Tyler replies.

"Oh, you have no idea," Dylan says, and Tyler lets him take his hand and begin guiding him through to the bedroom.

The windows are wide open to let in as much air as possible, and outside Tyler can hear people talking on the sidewalk below.

"How loud do you think I can make you be?" Dylan says, and he's evil, he has to be.

When Tyler comes, it's with his face buried in the pillow, near sobbing as Dylan wrings his orgasm out of him. Dylan comes with a shout that is unashamed and joyful.

"We should shower," Dylan says after a while. The room reeks of sweat and sex and heat, even with the windows open.

"I bought ice cream," Tyler says instead, because he doesn't want to wash this off himself just yet.

"God, I'm going to marry you someday, Tyler Hoechlin," Dylan breathes.

"I'm counting on it," Tyler replies, then squeaks as Dylan captures his mouth and kisses him stupid.

A GIFT FROM THE GODS AKA HOBRIEN ANON

🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻

#hobrien #hobrien anon #boys in crop tops #well one very particular crop top #y'all know which one #OOF #this is delicious #THANK YOU HOBRIEN ANON I NEEDED THIS TODAY

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whereisten · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Don’t Stop

Summary:

Things get hot between you and Taeyong in the dorm. Your risky behavior together with the members just on the other side of the door leads to the development of the hit song “Baby Don’t Stop.”

Pairing: Idol!Taeyong X female reader

Genre: SmUT, ??uhhhh yeahhh just smut

Warnings: cursing, recording of a sexual act, oral sex (male receiving), some dirty talk, ice/temperature play, fingering, breast fondling, semi-public sex, mirror sex, penetration.

Word Count: 2.7K

(A/N: Thank you to the anon that requested this, took me a minute but I hope you like it!! I have to go to sleep so I did not proofread hehehe sorry! This is veryyy veryyyyyyy dirty, hopefully you can catch all the parts that were inspired by the song 👀)

————-

Taeyong’s long fingers intertwine in your hair as he guides you down his length. It’s risky the game that you two are playing. Doing this in the dorm bathroom, the one right next to the living room. The door is unlocked and the boys are out..for now.

Your knees are on the cold tile, aching and red. You’re only getting started but you can feel yourself leaking in your underwear. Soon enough, you’ll feel it start to run down your thighs.

Taeyong grips the counter and watches himself disappear into your pretty mouth. He decides to record you with his phone so he can watch it later when you’re not around. He loves to hear your moans and curses. You were so needy at dinner, whispering dirty words while guiding his hand under the table and down your thigh. His members were just a few feet away from him, any slight shift in his mood surely would’ve gotten their attention.

So he decided to leave early, telling them that he wasn’t feeling too well. You left with him, saying that you would take care of him back at the dorm.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Taeyong did need your assistance for his—very big problem. Taeyong grabbed your hand and led you to the bathroom, you had been saying dirty things to him all night and he knew of the perfect way to shut you up. You gladly took him in, sticking your tongue out and over the aggravated tip, collecting the precum with your tongue. “Fuck..” Taeyong cursed as he felt your warm and wet tongue work wonders. You sucked hard, hollowing you’re cheeks so his beautiful length could rub against the plush internal surface. But you then pulled off of him, a ‘pop’ echoing into the air. “Look at me, baby.” You say. You want Taeyong to watch you as you take him in. He looks down and catches your doe eyes. “You’re such a bad girl.” He says huskily. You smirk and lower yourself onto him again, placing kitten-like kisses on his tip and shaft. You start to play with his balls lightly in your hand, gaining a loud groan from him. “You taste good, baby.” His hand trembles in your hair, he’s already close just from your teasing. “Stop teasing, baby girl. Use that pretty mouth of yours.” You chuckle and let your tongue flatten against the head again, then his entire length, licking it like a sweet strawberry flavored popsicle. The sight of you below him made him go crazy. Your cleavage peaked out of your blouse and your collar bones glistened with sweat. You smelled like flowers and he couldn’t get the thought of being inside you while drinking in your scent out of his mind all throughout the dinner. You bobbed you’re head up and down, sticking the tip into your cheek while using your hands to cover what you couldn’t reach. Taeyong is loud, cursing and groaning as he gets closer. The front door hasn’t opened yet so he gets out everything he feels. He starts to apply more pressure on your head with his hand, pushing you further down. You gag, but take everything in nonetheless. You only want to make him feel good. “Having you like this...it just feels so right, baby girl.” Taeyong says over your gagging sounds. He starts to fuck into you now, holding the back of your head as his hips move. You still play with his balls in your hand and hum so that he feels the vibration of your throat. You start to feel pain as it is pushed into over and over at a fast pace. Your eyes water, your mascara is running. Taeyong maintains eye contact as he grunts. “My little whore..look at you. Do you like this?” You want to smile and nod, but you can’t as he pounds into you unforgivingly. His movement stutters as you both hear the front door open and the rowdy boys start to fill in. You panic and begin to pull yourself away but Taeyong stops you with the hand on the back of your head, forcing you back down onto him. “don’t stop, baby, don’t stop...I’m so close..fuck.” Taeyong whispers now. Your eyes widened as you hear someone start to walk closer to the door, but Taeyong still fucks into you fast, watching you gag and panic through the phone screen. You whimper, you can’t hold your breath any longer, you start to get lockjaw after having your mouth stretched open for so long. Your tears run down your cheeks without end, but you take Taeyong into your irritated throat one last time. He holds you fast against his pelvis as he cums into your mouth. He shakes as he finally releases into you.

”Swallow, baby girl.” He demands and his voice is raspy and so sexy.

He relaxes his hand and allows you to pull off of him before putting his phone away. You immediately sit on the floor and regain steady breathing while wiping away your tears and cleaning your mouth. Taeyong wipes his forehead of sweat and zips his pants up as he also tries to breathe steadily. You look up at him and smile at Taeyong while he chuckles to himself. “That was close..” you say. Taeyong nods. “I’ll be right back.” Taeyong hurriedly leaves the bathroom before you can ask him where he’s going. You can hear him say ‘hi’ to some of the boys but soon enough he quickly enters the bathroom again and turns the lock this time. He has a small bag of ice that he grabbed from the freezer. “What’s that for?” You look up questioningly. “You’re just too hot, baby. We have to cool things down.” Taeyong says mischievously. “Mmmm...even with your boys around?” You raise an eyebrow as you start to get up off the floor. “Yes..we don’t have to stop.. Johnny asked me what I was doing with a bag of ice but I told him I need it for my neck.” Taeyong gave you a wink before placing his hands on your waist. He brought you close to him and kissed you. Your tongues explored each other’s mouth while you moaned quietly. His hands gripped you tighter. Your hands ran down his muscular back, scratching it lightly through his t-shirt. He let go of your lips and pushed you into the wall lightly, spinning you around so his chest was on your back. “You like teasing me, don’t you?” Taeyong whispered lowly into your ear as he pressed into your body from behind. You chuckled, he was so hot when he got like this. “Yes..” He zipped your dress down and pulled it off of you. “It’s only fair that I return the favor.” He spun you around to face him then unhooked your bra as you looked into his eyes and bit your lips. You hissed as the cold wind from the a/c touched your bare chest. Taeyong’s dark eyes drifted from yours and down to your breasts. Your perky nipples, hard and needy. Waiting to be touched by him. He took one in between the pad of his thumb and his index finger and played with it. Pinching it to watch as a whimper left your mouth. Taeyong licked his lips and pinched you again. “Taeyong, baby..” you whined. He smirked then stepped away from you and to the counter. He took two ice cubes out of the bag he brought in and put them into his mouth. He crunches them in between his teeth once and stepped towards you again. He took your chin in his hand, guiding your face down towards his so you had to watch as he took your nipple into his cold mouth. His mouth covered most of your breast while his hands kneaded into your body, massaging it carefully. The ice provided a tingling sensation as it contradicted the warmth of his mouth. It felt amazing and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning. You tried to be quiet but it just felt so good. Taeyong sucked your breast and licked all around it while groaning. He loved making you feel this way, but he also loved trying new things. Your fingers massages his scalp as his tongue danced around your sensitive skin. The ice now melted and you only felt the wet feeling of his tongue adorning your skin. You can feel your underwear become even more wet as Taeyong turns you on. He gets more ice and does the same thing with your other nipple. This time, he pumps your other breasts with his hand and continues to play with the nipple in between his fingers. The slight pain you feel from the pinches and the tingling sensation of the ice makes you light headed. “Oh..my God..don’t stop..” your voice comes out in a whisper and your head falls back into the wall. Your legs tighten to stop your essence from running down your leg, but Taeyong presses himself in between them, keeping them open with his thighs. He wraps your legs around his waist while his mouth still works fervently on your breast. His decorates your entire chest in kisses while you whimper and breathe heavily. You can feel his length trying to escape his jeans as it presses into your thigh. As a matter of fact, you felt it ever since your hand started to run through his scalp to massage it. “Taeyong..please..” you start to beg once you see that he doesn’t plan on ending his teasing session. He lifts himself from your chest and licks his lips. He then reaches for more cubes, placing one on your stomach with one hand and another on your nipple. He draws circles with the numbing ice on your sensitive areas, your head falls back again and you bite your lips to hold back your cries. The ice is shocking at first but honestly it’s pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Taeyong..” you say his name once again, but he doesn’t stop. He breathes close to your lips, letting the hot air fall onto you while you tremble. He watches you writhe and lose it under him. You fidget and stop yourself from coming undone just from the ice. Once the cubes melt, Taeyong takes you by the waist, letting your legs fall back onto the floor. He then turns your around to face the bathroom mirror. He stands you, pressing his hard member into your back while you hold yourself up on the counter and bite your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you now?” Taeyong caresses your neck as you look at each other in the mirror. His fingers dance along it, threatening to grasp it at any moment. “Yes..Taeyong.” You shakily drag your panties down your legs. Taeyong’s eyes let go of yours and watch as your reveal your perfect ass to him. “You turn me on, baby. I can’t wait any longer.” And Taeyong can tell you’re not lying as he watches your dripping entrance.

“Close your eyes, trust your senses.” Taeyong whispers into your neck, making the hair on it stand up straight. His plump lips lightly graze your shoulder. He laughs lightly and grabs another cube. You close your eyes and your chest rises up and down rapidly. Taeyong grabs your waist and holds it firmly because he knows what he’s about to do next. He runs the cube along your entrance, you flinch at the sharp feeling and try to escape his grasp. You cry out loudly because you are incredibly sensitive. Taeyong quickly grabs your throat and whispers. “Shhh..we have to be quiet. Look at me.” Your eyes open to see Taeyong’s smirk. He continues to rub the ice along your folds. But you hear a knock on the door. “is everything okay in there?” Mark asks with genuine concern. You want to squeal as Taeyong presses the ice into you even further, rubbing it in your clit now. Your jaw drops and your eyes close tightly. Taeyong chuckles, “yes! Everything’s fine!” “Okay. Goodnight.” Mark says before walking away. Taeyong is glowing with perspiration, he can’t hold back either so he is relieved when the ice finally melts, leaving just his cold fingers to trace over your entrance. He dips two fingers into your entrance and watches through the mirror as your eyes close and your body shivers. Your grip on the counter tightens. He moves it in and out quickly while you bite your lips and pant.

“Yes..yes..don’t stop.” You open your eyes. You were finally getting what you wanted. But Taeyong does stop, he pulls his fingers out and zips his pants down again. Through the mirror you can see his length spring out, it’s still glistening and oh so beautiful. He aligns himself with your entrance while massaging your ass. You can feel the coldness start to dissipate as he runs his length along your entrance. You can feel the veins and the twitching feeling you love.

He uses the head to part your folds and kiss your bud before running his length over your entrance again. Taeyong grunts and continues to massage your folds and clit with his member, looking at your anxious face while he does it. Your essence coats it just enough to be a good lubricant for when he finally enters you. “Baby..please.” You silently curse yourself for teasing him earlier. Taeyong puts two fingers into your mouth before pushing into you slowly. You gasp and feel your legs buckle. His wide girth and length stretches you out so well. Taeyong breathes heavily too, grunting as he pulls out and pushes into your soaking flower again. The feeling of your tongue on his fingers reminds him of how you choked on his dick just minutes before and the thought pushes him along to his second orgasm. Taeyong pushes into your body over and over, watching jumping breasts and fucked-out face through the mirror. Drool covers your chin just as your slick covers your thighs. You moan loudly now as Taeyong moves faster. He takes the last ice cube and draws “8” around your nipple again. You clench around him as you get close. “F-fuck..Taeyong..don’t stop..oh” your breathily let out before closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Taeyong pounding into your body from behind and the pulsating sensation of the ice on your sensitive nipple. Taeyong presses his other hand into the small of your back so you arch it into him more. He knows this is the angle that really makes you go crazy, the angle that allows him to reach your g spot with every push. “How does that feel, baby?” Taeyong wraps an arm around your waist and leans into your ear. The moist and hot breath from him was so different from the freezing feeling on your nipple. He loves the way your breasts move as he fucks into you, your body is beautiful and he can adore every inch with the mirror in front of your linked bodies. He licks your ear and bites the skin on your neck. His hips snap into your backside. “It’s perfect, baby, give it to me..” you try your best to say quietly but at this point you’re not sure. You’re only focused on reaching that point of complete ecstasy with Taeyong. Taeyong fucks into you even harder, grunting as he grips your ass with both hands now. His cold grip makes you shudder. His nails dig into your hips and you know there will be bruises.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head just as Taeyong climaxes. He watches you shake under him, your jaw tensing and your knuckles white. You chant his name as you cum around his length. He throws his head back and curses. His movement slows while he finishes. You lay onto the counter and pant as he pulls out. “Fuck...that was good. Do you think the guys heard?” You ask as Taeyong chuckles. ———— [Later That Night] Taeyong can’t sleep. You’ve gone home now and already started sleeping so he can’t text you. He’s the only one up in the dorm at this time so he decides to go to the studio. He tries to work on a song that has been stuck in his mind for quite some time. He has a general sense of the feel of the song, but is not sure of what exactly he wants it to be about. It has a soft, sultry rhythm that is intoxicating. It’s sexy so he wants to make sure to get the lyrics right. What else is sexy? You. Taeyong smiles to himself when he thinks about you and what the two of you did earlier. It was amazing, everything felt so right. He unlocked his phone and watched the video of you giving him the best blow job he had ever had. And he listens to it. Baby, don’t stop.. It comes out in soft whisper. It’s needy, but so sexy. He hears himself say it in this one rhythmic pattern, so he stops the video immediately. He knows what he must do.

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impaladolan · 4 years ago

Text

Capture - Grayson Dolan [8/-]

summary: y/n is quick to plot revenge.. but does she get away with it..?

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and smut :)

a/n: i seriously love you

Anonymous said:

Ooohoohohoh I’m excited for her to steal his Rolex haha omg maybe she wears it and doesn’t give him it back when he asks for it OMG u know what would be cute!! if one day she goes snooping in his bedroom and tries on his chain necklace n rings and he walks out the shower n he’s like ummmm ok ily

Anonymous said:

i want y/n to ride gray’s thigh in his office, like he’s just got in still fully in his suite w his gun on his belt and she just walks in and strips 👀👀

Anonymous said:

I have an idea hehe!! WhYi f y/n gets drunk like she f inds alcohol in graysons office or kitchen or something and shes being really bratty but it’s so cute and she’s giving him nose kissies and hugging up and telling him stuff and he’s just listening and loving her

Relaxation.

That's how you'd explain the certain state of euphoria I'm embezzled within. Young love is a treacherous trap that can either end in favor, or be torn to shreds in only mere moments. To feel so passionate and fervently invested in someone you've only ever known and loved is such a thrill, and you could never forget those memories embedded in your mind.

Like right now, laying in bed while the sun's first shine leaks through the window and gleams down upon the two of us, nuzzled under the covers. His leg was wrapped over mine and his arms hung loosely around my hips, sheltering me from ever possibly leaving his grasp. I was the first to wake, but I dared not to move an inch.

The world around me was motionless, so peaceful and calm. Nothing could bother or disrupt the atmosphere around me. Everything felt so perfect, embraced by the one I love and the man I admire. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever unsettle me in this moment.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself...

A darkness warped over my newly sunken eyes, shielding the world around me. I called out his name, but nothing came out. The warmth I once felt upon my body, vanished into the air and seemed like it'd never return. The world became cold and useless, all the positivity and tranquility that once surrounded me was blown away and now, I sit in darkness;

All by myself.

Him.

It seemed too early in the morning to be awake at such an hour, but you had crashed shortly after making it back to your room last night. You were so mortified and embarrassed, for all those men to see you so vulnerable and being punished. Though, the crazy inside you kind of liked it, but still, it pushed boundaries.

Initially, you had wanted to sleep in all day, and hopefully never leave your room ever again. Although, today's forecast decided otherwise. A ground shaking rumble of thunder made you awaken and the shoestring lighting bolts strung across the darkened sky had drawn you in. Since you essentially have no concept of time, whatsoever, you had to believe it was early in the morning, unless you really had slept in all day...

It's been presumably an hour or so since you first fluttered your eyes open. By now, you had plotted a sickening revenge to his outrageous acts he had committed only a day ago. Of course, you had created horribly ill plans that even you could never pull off. Such as vandalizing his expensive vehicles or even trashing the entire house. You had even gone as far as to planning an "accidental" fire in the kitchen.

But something inside you had put a halt to those thoughts.

Other than not wanting to be known as a malicious arsonist, you had some sort of pull towards him— but what that pull was, you couldn't figure out. The phrase; " Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me," has been left in your mind ever since the words first left his mouth. You couldn't possibly help but wonder what that even meant. You felt like you've known him from a past life somehow, and that could potentially explain the affection you have towards him. All of that aside, you have to remember that he isn't who your brain morphs him in to be. He's a felon who's abducted you and has pulled you away from society and everything you've ever been a part of.

For some reason, that's hard for you to mentally consider.

Aside from criminalizing yourself too by creating a fire or becoming a vandalizer, the best option is to state your assertiveness and trespass the "laws" that he has forbidden you ro break. Unlike yesterday's escapades of you ruining the dining room table, today you were up for higher anticipated endeavours. You had it all planned out and you knew what you'd do in order to complete your vengeances.

And he's not going to be very happy...

The atmosphere above and around you still rumbles with the loud, crackling thunder and the strikes of lightning flooding certain increments of light through the surrounding windows pave your path to the daunting door. You were still dressed in the white shirt that could barely pass as acceptable in the public eye, and your feet were frozen at the first touch of the wooden floor. You kept on like you have done in the previous times you have left your room for mischievous reasons. You silently open the door, leaving it wide open as you crept out of your assigned room and into the hallway. You knew that the very first place you would go would be the kitchen. No, you aren't creating a fire or any of the sort, but you were going to raid the fridge and have your fill with what it has to offer.

You walk straight past the opening and right into the glorious establishment of cookware, like it was your very own home and you were just up for a midnight snack. In all honesty, you could get used to living here.

If only it weren't forced onto you, that is.

Your fingertips soon collide with the long, frigid handle of the refrigerator door and pull it wide open, marveling at the large display of different beverages and foods strategically set up. Of course, it was mainly veggies and several healthy-looking meal options. Which didn't surprise you whatsoever.

He has a nice physique for a reason...

You couldn't find anything that made your stomach growl with hunger, until you opened up the freezer drawer and spotted a nice looking ice cream container. Still, it looked healthy and it'd make you all the more frozen, but it would manage to subside your aching sweet tooth for now. You pop open the lid and fish around the drawers for a utensil. With a content sigh, you plunge a huge spoonful of the solid liquid and empty it into your mouth, savoring every last flavor like it would be the last time you'd ever eat the sugary treat again. It was delicious, the absolute best ice cream you've ever devoured in the entirety of your life.

You almost ate half the jar until you decided you were parched and needed a nice drink to soothe your throat. Luckily this time you were familiar with where the glasses were kept and already had your hand wrapped around a large wine glass that was a little bit higher up than the rest of the glassware. You set it down quietly, trailing your eyes upon the clean and prim counter.

A tall, fancy upscale bottle of what looked to be whiskey was settled in the corner, nicely organized with the other alcoholic beverages that were of the same importance.

Now, you weren't exactly a "drink-whiskey-out-of-a-wine-glass" type of gal, but as they say; desperate times call for desperate measures— and you were on the search of something to loosen you up a bit, and that was that.

You brought the glass over to where you had stationed your cup, not even flinching when you uncork the liquor and pour its contents out. With improper proportioning of the said liquid, you put the whiskey back how it was.

"Fuck, here we go." You inaudibly groan to yourself, just knowing that you'll regret every decision you've made in the near future. Raising up the plum-full glass, you tip it back into your mouth and down a whole gulp.

Nasty.

It's definitely an acquired taste, but the barely detectable taste of vanilla made it hardly feasible. You dared to not put the glass down until you were finished with it and had that sour taste submitted through your fiery throat.

The least you could say was that it's pretty smooth, but not something you'd drink in your free time.

In your head, you knew you'd feel a bit wonky, considering your nearly empty stomach and your abstinence from alcohol for the last month or so. It'd be easy to feel the side effects and overall feel much better, like you were aiming for.

Once you drained the glass of every last drop, you held your breath and rushed to the sink. The overwhelming want to just regurgitate what you ingested had drawn upon you, but you refrained from doing so. Waiting out the sickly feeling, you run a bit of cold water over your hand and press it against your forehead for a moment. Everything became hot, even with the freezing temperatures, you felt like breaking a sweat.

All just the side effects of alcohol, I'm sure.

Within the passing minutes, the faintness flew away and the sounds of the thunderstorm filled your ears. A large banging of the clouds above frightened you and you knocked over the glass you had just rested your lips on.

You didn't even feel bad about all the shattered pieces on the floor, it actually brought a smile to your face and you were ready to begin the fully planned extravaganza.

First stop; his room.

You skipped back the hallway, still quiet but not as careful as before. You weren't afraid of any consequences and whatever he was going to do to you wouldn't be too harsh. It's not like he's embarrassed you enough already anyway.

You easily find his door, pushing the handle down as slow as possible, just in case he was asleep in his room. His door didn't creak as you opened it, and nor did his floorboards as you walked straight into his marvelous bedroom. It was extravagant, but yet it still felt homely. You check the bed, no sign of him or anyone for the matter. He probably at a meeting, or something.

Not that you care..

You continue your stroll, glancing around his room for anything that could spark your immediate attention, considerably his desk. It held a lot of his more—fashionably inclined belongings. Such as his masculine jewelry and expensive watches. There was even a small, purple ring that reminded you of something you had worn a long time ago. You brush that off, it brings up sore wounds from a time where you were a lot happier and everything was simpler.

I wish I could say that now..

You began to pick up the neatly placed objects, slipping a couple of heavy necklaces around your neck and the large rings upon your fingers. You laugh at the size difference of your hand and how they barely stay on your fingers.

The stationary mirror attached to the desk caught your eyes, and you begin to make funny faces at it. Which sends you into a hushed giggle fest that makes you double over in your seat. Still caught up in your laughter, you take off all of the rings, just leaving a couple on the desk and tossing a few over to his bed. You do the same with the necklaces, except for the two that you threw into one of the drawers.

That’s when your eyes caught the nice watches, stuffed in clear pouches with the brand labeled across them. Rolex is the first you saw, and the first one you picked up. You weren’t thinking clearly. Hence the reason you tore it out of it’s protective packaging and brought it up above your head, throwing it down to the ground and watching the tiny glass fragments splatter everywhere.

It’s not like he can’t buy a new one, right?

Feeling content and a little less frustrated, you left the messy scene and followed your footsteps back into the hallway. He didn't seem to hear you, so the determination to find out his name came across your mind and you became dead set on finding it, so you basically sprinted into his ominous office and delved into his comfy chair without care.

Your motor skills were altered and it seemed to take for ever to lift yourself out of the chair and tap on the computer keyboard for it to wake up. While it began its process of turning on, you led your hand down to the drawers and pulled at them. And that’s when you found the very first locked up thing in this house.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing in here darling?” His alluring voice blasted through your ears and made you leap upward. “It’s not been a day and you’re already back to being a brat?” You couldn’t see what he looked like, but his silhouette looked suited and enticing.

Very enticing, actually...

“M’trying to find out your name, Daddy.” You spoke before you could think, crossing your arms over your chest while your lips form a pout. His body leaves from the doorway, and you’re barely able to see him as he strides over towards you. Suddenly, a light flips on and you’re met with his beautiful frame, a smile daunting his face as he looks down at your innocence.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He moves closer, wrapping his hand under your chin while his other has his blazer hung on his finger and thrown towards his back. He looks cute in a smile, until it forms into a confused frown.

“Have you been drinking, Y/N?” Your eyes widen and you quickly nod. You knew you’d be in trouble with him anyway, so might as well be honest now. “I c-couldn’t sleep and I- I just wanted a sip of somethin’.” You shrug, looking downward as you give him an okayish explanation.

“You know what helps me sleep?” He lets your chin go, dropping his jacket and beginning to roll up his dress-shirt’s sleeves. You shake your head, chewing your bottom lip as you take in his appearance. “A nice cocksucking does.” Thunder crackles loudly outside as his husky voice deepens and makes a cool wind run down your spine.

“Then let me help you..” You wrap your arms around his neck, twisting him around and forcefully pushing him down in the chair you were once sitting in. You were about to fall to your knees to “help” him, but he pulls your hips towards him and sets you on his lap. You replace your hands around his neck, sinking your fingertips into his hair and massaging the silky softness of it. He sweetly sighs, readjusting the leg you were sat upon.

And that’s when you feel the sensation you’ve been craving for however long you’ve been here.. you think..

“M’hm, do that again..” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He actually obliges, his brows furrowed as he watches your face contort. “Like riding my thigh, huh?” He asks as he placed his large hands around your waist. You nod, moving your hips in the same direction. You eyes shut, your head falling back a little as you smoothly move against his muscled thigh.

It felt so good, everything felt so good actually. He somehow looked so much more attractive, the beard dotting his face and his hair styled nicely. Even what he was wearing had you wanting more.

You open your eyes for a moment, watching his pleased expression as he watches you needingly thrust yourself upon his warm, clothed thigh. He even steadily lifted his knee in the correct places, aiding in the pleasure that him alone could bring you. Your eyesight seemed foggy but visible enough to see the gun at his waist side, and you almost froze when you saw it. Even in your intoxicated state of mind, you knew that just the weapon could possibly help you escape and make it back to your own home.

You didn't think it through thoroughly..

You lean in, your lips next to his ear as you practically collapse upon him, though your movements to further yourself towards releasing didn't halt. You slipped your left hand down to his waist band, sensually gliding it over his tented groin. He shutters under your touch, clearing his throat as his heads falls back slightly. As quick as your body would let you, you grab for the handle of the gun and raise it up towards his forehead, stopping all your movements and gaining his attention.

"Y/N—" He starts, gliding his hands up your bare thighs.

"Don't fucking move, or I'll— I'll shoot you." You sounded clear as day in your head, but your words became slurred as they left your mouth, and he smirked at your innocence. Just as quickly as you pulled the gun, he took it away.

He grabbed the barrel and snatched it from your grip, placing it back into its holster at his side. You yelp as he grabs your wrists, twisting them around your back and slamming you into the table with an evil chuckle. "Better keep those hands pretty little hands to yourself, princess. You're too innocent to commit murder anyway." He continues his hoarse chuckles, licking a stripe up his hand before striking your slick pussy. "D-Ahh!" You hiccup, pressing your legs as close together as you can.

“Better fuckin’ pray that you can walk tomorrow, darling...”

to be continued...

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elwenyere · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Small Grease Fire (and Other Human Disasters)

(Thanksgiving ficlet for the Stony and Avengers fam; also on AO3)

The Avengers didn’t have the best track record with Thanksgiving. The first time the dinner had ended in disaster, it had been Steve’s fault. One rainy fall Sunday, just months after the Battle of New York, Steve had been picking at a bowl of mint-chip ice cream, feeling tired of getting looks of sympathy about the holidays and absolutely exhausted by feeling sorry for himself. If Bruce and Clint hadn’t chosen that particular afternoon to ask him whether there was anything special he wanted for Thanksgiving – raising the question with just enough gentleness to make Steve’s jaw tighten – he probably would have said, “I’m a sweet potatoes guy” and left it at that.

Instead, Steve had been seized by a spirit of mischief. Putting on his most morose poker face, he had proceeded to invent a series of Depression-era dishes, from “Hoover Rolls” to “Poor Man’s Potatoes,” the recipes for which he concocted out of the blandest ingredients he could imagine. By the time he was in the process of describing his third Crisco-based dessert, Steve was sure he had gone far enough to reveal the joke; but Bruce and Clint had continued nodding encouragingly and jotting down notes.

The results had been borderline inedible. And even though the sight of Tony doubled over with laughter when Steve finally fessed up had thawed out a part of his heart he hadn’t even known was still on ice, the experience of eating a holiday dinner in which half the dishes tasted like over-starched socks forced even Steve to admit that the prank had been a bit of a Pyrrhic victory.

The second time…well, Steve would have said the second time was his fault too – though he supposed the rest of the team would blame the extremists who tried to kidnap the governor. Clint had just started basting the turkey when the “Assemble” alarm went off, and the team had to pile in the Quinjet to deal with a hostage situation at the capitol. It should have been an easy job – in and out with plenty of time to take the butter for the piecrust out of the freezer – but then one of the extremists had pulled the pin on a grenade just yards away from a state senator’s eight-year-old son, and four hours later Steve was waking up in the burn unit at Walter Reed hospital with the anguished sound of someone shouting his name still ringing in his ears.

“You fucking idiot,” the same voice had greeted him, and Steve looked up to see Tony sitting by his bed, the lines around his eyes drawn tight over a surgical mask. “You’re supposed to be a tactical genius, and you haven’t learned a single new method for containing explosives since basic training in 1943? I’m going to equip your suit with goddamn ballistic plates.”

“Tony,” Steve managed, feeling a halo of pain radiate up his scalp. “Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

Steve thought he saw something mist across Tony’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. The more fully he became aware of his body, the more he noticed the pull of his skin cells contracting in uneven loops around the burns on his torso, and it was taking a considerable amount of energy to keep Tony’s face in focus.

“Everybody’s fine but you, Steve,” Tony assured him. “And the doctors said you should be able to move to the general floor in a few hours. So shut those baby blues and let the serum do its job, because there’s a whole team of keyed-up superheroes waiting to see you, and they’re emptying the hospital vending machines fast enough to cause a run on the Frito-Lay factory.”

Steve had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while after that, finally waking up long enough to eat a holiday dinner of contraband take-out, which Natasha had smuggled into the hospital using only Thor’s tendency to knock over delicate instruments and Bruce’s oversized jacket.

“When you sign up to be an Avenger, no one warns you about doing overtime as a falafel mule,” Bruce had mused, leaning back to let Natasha steal a fry off his plate.

“I still think we could have gotten that eighth kebab if you’d been willing to consider pant legs as additional real estate,” she told him.

"You should all be eating stuffing and pumpkin pie,” Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here on Thanksgiving.”

“Listen, Cap,” Clint replied, waving a dolma at him, “if you’re going to apologize for anything, apologize for the purgatory potatoes you tricked me into making last year. At least this year we have food that doesn’t have the texture of fast-drying cement.”

“Those tubers had truly been abandoned by the gods,” Thor agreed solemnly. “But I maintain that the Big Band Banana Pie was actually quite delicious.”

“Just don’t make the third-degree burns and hypovolemic shock a holiday habit, Rogers,” Tony put in. “Some of us are trying to watch our blood pressure.”

Tony had leaned over to adjust the settings on Steve’s bed as he spoke, and by the time he finished, a dull tugging sensation across Steve’s chest had loosened – the pain subsiding almost before Steve could register that it had been bothering him.

So that was why, after two years of throwing wrenches in the Avengers’ Thanksgiving plans, Steve was determined to make sure that year three went off without a hitch. He’d drawn up an elaborate plan for maximizing the utility of the Tower kitchen’s two ovens and seven burners and for optimizing the team’s various culinary skills. The operatives had been briefed the night before, and by 10:30 AM on Thursday, Steve was fluting a pie crust, Bruce was stripping fresh thyme leaves into an herb blend, Clint was whipping up a roux for the mushroom gravy, Thor was mashing potatoes and parsnips in an industrial-strength metal vat, and Natasha was dicing carrots and celery with a speed and precision that felt vaguely unsettling.

After checking the team’s progress against his itinerary, Steve turned to the next task on his own list: bringing Tony Stark his emergency coffee. Bruce had just made a second pot, and Steve poured some into the largest cup he could find: a purple novelty mug, featuring a drawing of the Hulk and the words “You Wouldn’t Like Me Without My Coffee.” He paused to tuck a few biscuits into a napkin (Tony’s relief at sighting fresh coffee sometimes opened up a narrow window during which Steve could feed him breakfast without being noticed), and headed down to the lab.

He found Tony standing with both arms braced against his worktable, designs for what looked like the paneling of Steve’s uniform projected in front of him. Steve cleared his throat, and Tony whirled around, the slump of his shoulders morphing into a graceful lounge by the time he was facing Steve.

“I was just about to come up,” he said. “I have a few finishing touches left here and then I’m all yours, Cap. Give me everything that can survive being the tiniest bit overcooked.”

Steve walked over to put Tony’s coffee on the table and then felt his breath catch in his throat when Tony reached out and took the mug from his hand instead.

“There’s no need,” Steve responded to cover his reaction, flexing the hand that had brushed Tony’s as he let it fall back to his side. “We’ve got the schedule covered for now. I was actually hoping I could talk you into a snack break.”

He waved the napkin of biscuits experimentally.

“Are you cutting me from the Thanksgiving roster, Rogers?” Tony asked. “Just because one time I set a very small grease fire – which I contained almost immediately, by the way.”

“The vase I broke when I sprinted into the kitchen would beg to differ,” Steve smiled. “But it’s not that. I just wanted to do this for you: a big dinner and sitting down with family.”

“For me?” Tony blinked at him. “Why?”

Steve started to cross his arms across his chest before realizing that he would risk crushing the biscuits. He settled for clasping his wrist with his free hand instead, widening his stance slightly and taking a deep breath. Come on, Rogers. Take it on the chin.

“Because I wanted to tell you that I woke up in this century alone,” he said, “and that you were the first person stubborn enough to make sure I wouldn’t stay that way. Now I wake up to a kitchen full of people who tease me about my lists but who know why I need them – who will eat dinner rolls that taste like soggy chalk just to make me feel at home.” He paused. “People who stay by my side for eight straight hours at the hospital.”

Steve looked up and caught Tony’s eyes, his heart rate picking up speed as memories of those same eyes flashed through his mind in quick succession: tearing up with laughter over a plate of cornstarched bananas, pinched with fear over a surgical mask, narrowed in concentration over the remote control for an adjustable bed.

“Romanov has an awfully big mouth for a spy,” Tony said with a rueful smile.

“I think it was a tactical leak,” Steve acknowledged, “to motivate her mark. She knew I needed a push. Because I’ve messed up the past two years, and I needed to tell you: pretty much everything I’m thankful for in my new life is here because of you.”

Tony was staring at him, his eyes darting quickly across Steve’s face as if JARVIS were scanning it for data. Steve held up under the silent scrutiny as long as he could before letting out an explosive breath.

“Anyway, sorry to interrupt you,” he said quickly. “You’ve got work to do, and I’ve got to go make sure everything’s on track upstairs. I’ll uh – I’ll have Bruce come get you when dinner’s ready.”

He started to make an about face toward the door, but Tony caught his arm and held him in place.

“Give a guy a goddamn minute, Steve,” he said softly. “I’m having to do a major cognitive reboot over here. It takes a while for the operating system to come back online. Just…sit down? Let me show you the new flame retardants I’m adding to your uniform.”

Steve complied. And as he watched Tony run through the specs, gulping coffee and nibbling absently at the biscuits, he realized that he knew what Tony was saying even before Tony finally spoke the words: “I’m thankful every time you wake up.”

#stony #stevetony #stony fic #festive ficlets #avengers as family #idiots in love #they're human disasters your honor #this got out of hand #and personally I blame every single character in this Tower #happy thanksgiving #stony fam

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

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Knitting You a Home - 7

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 3,158

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - Rated PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Discussion of cheating - Discussion of a child being abandoned in the past.

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

You barely looked up from your knitting as the timer on your phone shrieked in the kitchen, declaring that the cookies were done baking. At least this batch was. It was day two of the vacation Grandmother insisted you take and already you were out of your mind.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the perfume that Namjoon had come home wearing, you spent the entire day yesterday cleaning; all of his clothes were immediately tossed in the laundry first. It was satisfying when the shirt he had worn that night no longer had a citrus scent to it, but reminded you of the lavender fabric softener you loved.

By the time midnight came, the whole house was clean. Not that it was filthy, but there were a few things that had been pushed back by both of you due to work, and perhaps some laziness when it was late and the last thing you wanted to do was be an adult. Unlike the night before, Namjoon didn’t come home early.

He wasn’t home by the time you fell asleep either.

There were a few minutes this morning when he came to give you a kiss goodbye before heading out to work, and even though he chuckled at your attempts to coax him back to bed, in less than five minutes he was once again gone, and you were left alone. For years you had lived in this house alone, but with Namjoon gone, it hauntingly quiet. There was a window in the bedroom that looked out to the front of the house, and as you curled up on his side of the bed to be surrounded by his warmth that lingered, you watched his figure grow smaller as he walked off in the sunrise. It wasn’t until that he was gone that you tried to go back to sleep.

Sleep evaded you though and within an hour you were – regrettably – wide awake and on your third cup of coffee. Since there was no rush, you brewed up coffee grounds instead of the instant k-cups, the kitchen now scented in the smell of your favorite dark roast.

With the cleaning all done, the newfound free time and silence allowed you to think about the very last thing you wanted to even dwell on. All you had to do was ask Namjoon about the perfume, but each time the thought crossed your mind, your throat felt like it was closing up and it became harder to breathe.

So, you turned to one of the other few things that you were good at to take your mind off it. Baking.

That had been at eight thirty.

The timer rang out again so you set your knitting back on the couch, deciding to count the stitches when you came back. You tapped the stop button on your phone, silence once again filling the house as you opened up the oven, the heat hitting you right in the face as you carefully took out a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

It was only after you set the hot tray on a cooling rack that there was a loud knock on the door. You frowned in confusion, grabbing your phone to check the time. It wasn’t even noon. Standing by the table, a smile slowly grew as a single person came to mind and you hurried the rest of the way to the doorway, not surprised at who was leaning against your door-frame, but that she was here.

“You can only imagine my surprise,” Luna greeted, grinning at you. “When I went to Grandmother’s shop only find out that little Red, was back at home on vacation.”

Gleefully laughing, you pulled Luna in by her hands, tightly hugging her as she returned the gesture. Unable to let go of each other, the two of you waddled backwards into your home as she kicked the door shut for you.

“She insisted that I take a vacation,” you answered. It was only then that you broke the hug, “What are you doing here?”

Luna rolled her eyes, the easy smile still present. “As surprising as it might be, I do have my days off from the Homeless Center.”

You leaned back in suspicion, only to break out into giggles once more. “You caught me in the middle of baking, so come on.” Walking back to the kitchen, you began to transfer the cookies onto the cooling rack. “Is it a tea or coffee day for you Luna?”

“Coffee.”

Pointing at the pot with the spatula, you set the now empty tray on the counter next to the remaining bowl of dough. “Already brewed. Make me a fresh cup too?”

She already knew where everything was. Her visits tended to last hours, and over the years, your home had become a place where Luna knew that she was always welcomed to come to, whether it was early morning or late at night.

“Either you’ve decided to run a bakery inside your house, or something happened,” Luna said, barely glancing at you as she refilled your signature blue mug, taking a black one for herself. Instead of sitting back at the table, she leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands as she watched you move the wire rack to the table for the time being.

You hummed in amusement, focusing on scooping out more dough. When she didn’t say anything else, you glanced up, seeing the knowing expression on her face as she waited. It was the same one you’ve given her countless time when she came over at odd hours in the early morning.

“What’s wrong,” Luna prodded again. “You’ve made what…six batches of cookies, and a dozen muffins?”

Shrugging, you put the tray in the oven and set the timer on your phone. “I’m bored and love to bake.”

“Yes, but you’re over-baking. The last time you did this was when Sue came back.” Raising the mug to her lips, she gave you a pointed look. “I still have banana bread in my freezer from you.”

Your body tensed at the mention of Sue, easily recalling the multiple times that Namjoon had come into the kitchen, nuzzling your neck as he hugged you in an attempt to get you to stop baking for the night and come to bed.

Luna gently touched your shoulder, your grip on the counter tightening right before loosening up. “What’s wrong?”

Taking your coffee, you barely met her gaze as you sat at the table. Luna settled down across from you without another word.

“It’s Namjoon,” you finally answered. Giving Luna a weak smile, you traced the rim of your mug. “He’s been, acting different. Ever since Sue.”

“Different how?”

You shook your head. If there was anyone who might know what was happening, it’d be Luna. She worked directly with Hybrids every day; it was bound that she’d pick up knowledge on their habits over time.

“At first, he was overprotective and there was an increase in skin ship, but then it went back to normal when Hoseok and Sarah were reunited, then it changed again. It was like hitting reverse. He isn’t affectionate anymore, or if he is it’s only a little bit. He’s at the studio working all the time, comes home late. I basically never see him these days. Last night he even…”

Your eyes stung, voice halting as it finally hit you. The entire time you’ve only been thinking about, about the possibilities of what was turning Namjoon away. Never once did you speak it out loud because you hoped that things would have gone back to normal.

“He even what?” Luna gently asked.

Bottom lip trembling, it felt like your heart was breaking, the Mate Mark on your neck suddenly feeling like a weight on your shoulders. Namjoon…he had asked you so many times if this was what you wanted. To seal the bond between the two of you, guaranteeing a life time with each other and that when it was done, you’d never be able to see another man romantically again. Namjoon was your one and only.

“He came home,” you slowly spoke, trying to catch your breath. “reeking of another woman’s perfume.”

Through blurry eyes, Luna’s face shifted into understanding as she moved her chair next to you, her cup softly setting on the table. “Oh God, don’t cry honey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

You thought you set your mug on the table, but apparently it had been closer to the edge than you originally thought and it crashed to the wooden floor, coffee pooling onto the floorboards but neither of you rushed to clean it. Instead, you leaned into Luna’s hug, your hands gripping her shirt as she rubbed circles into your back.

She didn’t stop you, didn’t say that your tears were useless. Luna simply waited, letting you cry until no more tears were able to leak out, even if it meant having your voice go hoarse. As grateful as you were that Luna was here, a part of you wished that it had been Namjoon who came to comfort you, even if he was the reason for your tears.

When they finally stopped, you sat up, rubbing at your eyes with the heel of your hands. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Luna shook her head, reaching over to grab a napkin. “You’ve been there for me, for every phone call and visit in the middle of the night. You have nothing to apologize for.” Handing you the napkin, she watched to make sure that you were done crying before cleaning up the broken mug.

Still, guilt swirled around inside you as you wiped at your eyes, trying to calm down. It felt like a bat was breaking every bone and bruising all your organs to say out loud what you’ve been thinking. That Namjoon had possibly considered, or even acted on cheating on you.

When she returned, she wiped away a few tears that you had missed. “I know it hurts hun. Have you talked to Namjoon about it?”

“When?” You weakly asked. “When can I ask him? He’s never home long enough for us to even talk.”

“True,” Luna agreed. “But how will you ever know the truth?” Licking her lips, she leaned back in her seat. “Do you want my honest opinion about all this?”

You nodded with a sniff. Now that you finally spoke your thoughts, you needed someone to tell you the truth. The last thing you wanted was for someone to just play along with your worries and let it continue to hurt you. Luna was always there to tell you the truth, even if it hurt because if it did, she was by your side to help carry it the weight.

“Namjoon explained to you about the Mate Mark, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you know that Hybrids have only one true Mate that they’re destined to be with.” Luna smiled at you, leaning forward to gently tap the Mate Mark on you neck.

When she did it, you merely flinched at the sudden touch. It wasn’t like when Namjoon touched or kissed it, and it sent tingles running through your nerves and a warm fire in your heart. It was, strange to have someone else but Namjoon touch it.

But Luna did it again, a gentle smile appearing on her face. “Wolf Hybrids especially believe this considering the DNA they share in addition to all the lore around werewolves, their animal counterparts heighten the desire for a one true partner. Now I know that it took Namjoon a while for him to realize that you were his Mate, but when he did…honey the bond took effect immediately.”

Wetting her lips, Luna leaned back in her seat, trying to find the right words to explain this. “He is so in love with you. Even before he gave you his Mark, when you took him in and showed him what it was like to be with someone who cared, the bond between the two of you formed and grew stronger than anything I’ve seen before.”

“But the perfume…”

She shook her head, unable to come up with an answer that would chase away those fears. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone at the studio that wears an unhealthy amount of perfume? What I do know, is that Namjoon would never consider cheating on you. Hurting you is the last thing he’d ever want to do. You have to talk to him about this, it’s not healthy to keep this all bottled up” Luna glanced over your shoulder, smiling in disbelief. “Nor is it healthy for those of us who will end up eating all these treats.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you chuckled at her joke, knowing that the moment you ran out of cookie dough you were moving on to brownies.

Her words swirled in your mind and as relieved as you were to hear someone else say what you knew was true in your heart, it only made you wonder what was really going on. Was what happened with Hoseok, having this much of an impact on Namjoon that he was already preparing for the two of you to be separated? Just like they had been?

You stayed quiet as Luna wrapped her arms around you like a blanket. Just like you’ve done for her, time and time again without fail.

“Can…can I talk to you?”

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see Luna staring at her untouched mug, her gaze seemingly going through the tea you had made.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” you asked, gently smiling in an attempt to bring her back from wherever her mind was racing to.

It worked a little bit, but when she looked up at you, her eyes were overflowing with tears. You dragged your chair next to hers, coaxing Luna to rest her head on your shoulder as you hugged her. It had been a while since her last late-night visit and you were surprised that she had stopped by with Namjoon staying with you. But you would never turn her away.

Even though she asked to talk, she didn’t speak.

Wetting your lips, you ran a hand through her hair. “Was it a work thing, or a relationship thing?” You softly asked. Depending on which it was, you might have to go explain to Namjoon that Luna was staying the night.

“A work thing,” she croaked out. You relaxed your arms enough for her to turn, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of your neck. Wet tears slid down your neck to your shoulder as she shook in your embrace, her cries growing in volume even as she tried to reign it in.

“He’s not even a year old,” Luna cried, her voice breaking as she attempted to talk through it. “I…I was throwing out the garbage when they suddenly drove up. She dropped him in-in my arms and ran off.”

Your eyes closed as you pieced together her sentences, your own emotions wanting to take control. But you couldn’t. One of you had to be strong for the other.

“He wasn’t even crying. It was like he thought they were coming back for him.”

There had been a time when you asked Luna why she continued to work at the Homeless Center for Hybrids all these years. It had been after she told you a story similar to this one, but it had been with a Hybrid girl who was in her early teens. Luna had a heart of gold and despite the fact that the Hybrids who entered the Center were there because they had nowhere else to go, and had a reason to be upset and angry with humans, she gave it her all to go the extra mile and make their time there filled with hope.

Suddenly feeling a hand on your shoulder – Luna’s were still wrapped around your waist – you blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to see Namjoon standing next to you. He had reached the point of being comfortable enough for the occasional hug and touch, but that was when you usually asked him. This was the first time he had touched you.

His eyes weren’t guarded and his ears were lowered against his head, a tell-tale sign that he had overheard. Instead of speaking, he glanced at Luna before walking into the living room to grab the throw blanket that was over the couch. His footsteps were silent when he came back, gently covering Luna with the blanket and you as well.

Luna lifted her head at the touch of the blanket, wiping away her tears as she gazed up at Namjoon with watery eyes. Namjoon simply crouched down, his hand holding on to the chair to maintain his balance.

“It’s better to have something like this, happen when he’s young.” Namjoon softly spoke, capturing both of your attentions. “I’m not saying what happened was good, it’s a terrible thing no matter how you look at it. But he won’t remember it, not like how a lot of Hybrids do. All we can do is hope that he’ll get adopted into a loving family, who will treat and raise him the way he deserves, so that he will never have to remember this day.”

Even though the situation was serious, you were in awe of how Namjoon was able to comfort Luna. Despite being friends with Luna for years, some of the stories she’s told you left you speechless and unable to think of the right thing to say. But Namjoon, he found the words immediately.

“I’ll talk to him,” you whispered, shaking your mind from the memory. Covering your mouth, you coughed in an attempt to clear your throat and bring your voice back.

Luna let you move out of her arms, a gentle smile appearing as she watched you nod in determination, even repeating yourself as you wiped your eyes for the last time. She knew that you would, that you

’d eventually decide on talking to him. You weren’t the type to let things just…settle in the mud. You were strong, but sometimes you needed an ear to listen to your fears and a voice to lead you in the direction that you knew you needed to go in.

Sometimes, you just needed that little push.

“Good,” Luna agreed. Reaching out, she took two cookies from the cooling tray and handed one to you. “But first, let’s test out these bad boys. Okay?”

Staring at the cookie, you suddenly chuckled as you took it, taking a bite out of it. It was soft and warm, and you knew that Namjoon would be going straight to these when he came home. Chocolate chip cookies were his absolute favorite after all. Maybe then you’d be able to talk to him.

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 5 years ago

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Best Served Cold(Izzy Stradlin x Reader)[Smut]

@vixen-in-my-dreams thank you for the creative request! I loved this one :) also @80snikki <333

Description: It’s a hot day, so you decide to enjoy a delicious popsicle, right in front of your boyfriend. It’s nothing to you, just an innocent treat. To Izzy, however, it’s the biggest tease on the planet. Let’s just say, the popsicle isn’t the only thing that’s gonna be in your mouth today.

Warnings: Blowjobs, male masturbation, sexual innuendos, teasing, cursing

Guns N Roses Taggers: @curly-hudson @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister @agroupiewhore @comawhxte666 @julessworldd

“Izzy, why did the goddamn air conditioning have to stop working on the hottest day of the fucking year? Why? Just fucking great.”

You crossed your arms and pouted, staring over at your broken air conditioning with an angry glare. Izzy, who was strumming his guitar and sitting in the recliner, simply shrugged his shoulders. “Shitty luck, I guess.” You sighed, pulling at the collar of your shirt in an attempt to lessen the humidity, but you could already feel the sweat forming on your forehead.

“I’m gonna sue the AC company, Iz. They’re gonna feel my fucking wrath.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Good luck with that, baby.” You glowered at the floor. This really was a terrible day for the AC to break down. It was pushing 85 degrees outside, and now it was even worse in your apartment. How your boyfriend wasn’t pouring sweat himself was a mystery; after all, he was in long pants and a button-up shirt.

But your boyfriend was usually cool as a cucumber anyway. You weren’t nearly as calm about these kinds of things. After another minute of feeling your clothes practically sticking to your body, you were fed up. You got up so quickly you almost knocked your chair over, making a beeline for your bedroom. You threw off your heavy clothing and changed into the smallest pair of gym shorts and a tank top you could find. “That’s a little bit better.”

Unfortunately, even skimpy clothing didn’t seem to be enough to stop your insides from overheating. Fuck. Time for plan B. You hurried back out, walking past the living room where Izzy was still sitting. He glanced up from his guitar and raised an eyebrow at your outfit, but quickly turned back to his strumming. You hurried to the freezer, scanning the shelves for the coldest item you could get your hands on.

Your eyes landed on the box of popsicles, and you grinned victoriously. “Yes! Fuck, yes, thank God I didn’t eat them all last night.” You quickly grabbed the box and rifled through it until you found your favorite flavor. “Bingo.” Holding the frozen treat in your hands instantly cooled you down, and you put the box back and walked back into the living room, plopping down on the couch with a triumphant grin on your face.

“Izzy, look what I got!” You waved the popsicle around, and he looked up. “Wow, a popsicle. Cool, baby.” You rolled your eyes at his plainly unenthusiastic reply, and went to open it, throwing the wrapper down on the table and immediately sticking it in your mouth. “Fuck, that’s better. It’s so cold.” You licked the top of it, and then licked a stripe up the side. Izzy briefly glanced up at you, looked back down, and then did a double take. Holy shit.

You looked up from your treat to see Izzy staring at you, eyes trained on your lips. “Something wrong, baby?” He didn’t speak, just slowly shook his head and went back to strumming his guitar. When you were once again distracted with the popsicle, he looked back up. Your lips were wrapped around the top of the popsicle, and you slowly sucked out the juice, sucking in your cheeks as you did. You licked it up the side again, tongue swirling around the top, and Izzy instantly went hard.

He glanced down, grimacing at the obvious bulge, and shifted his guitar so you wouldn’t see it. The idea of you knowing he was getting off on watching you eat a goddamn popsicle was embarrassing as all hell. His eyes drifted down to your exposed cleavage and tight shorts, and he bit his lip. Fuck, you were such a tease and you didn’t even realize it. When he looked up again, you were deepthroating the popsicle, and he felt his rock hard cock twitch.

He watched in awe as you took it all the way into your mouth, the juice from the popsicle coating your lips, and then slurped at it, taking it out of your mouth with a pop that was so obscene that he had to quietly slid his hand behind the guitar and palm himself through his jeans. You didn’t seem to take notice, so he did it once more, biting back a moan. You stopped and looked up at him, and he quickly pulled his hand away. “You want some, Izzy? I’ll share!”

You held the popsicle out to him, but he quickly declined. “Nah, baby, I’m good. You just keep, um, doing what you’re doing.” Izzy’s erection was almost painful at this point, so he pressed the back of his guitar against it and tried to subtly grind his bulge against the instrument to relieve the pressure; unfortunately for him, the sudden wave of pleasure was more than he anticipated, and a loud moan left his lips before he could bite it back or cover it with a cough.

You glanced up in concern, and he went red. “Izzy? Are you okay?” He nodded quickly, ignoring his painfully hard cock long enough to smile unconvincingly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, I just cut my finger on one of my guitar strings.” You frowned, placing your dripping popsicle on its wrapper on the table, and got up to walk over to him. “Really? Aw, poor thing, let me see!” Izzy covered his erection with the guitar and shook his head again. “No, it’s fine, baby.” Ignoring his protests, you grabbed his hand and examined his long fingers. “I don’t see a cut.”

Izzy pulled his hand away. “It’s there, it’s just small. I’m fine, baby, really. Go back to your popsicle.” You stared at him in concern. “Izzy, are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting really weird. Maybe you should take a break from that guitar and go take a nap or something.” You reached out to pull his guitar away from him, and he resisted. “No.” You frowned. “No? Izzy, come on, just take a little break, it won’t hurt anything-” You yanked the guitar from him, immediately exposing the bulge that stretched the front of his jeans, and quickly went silent.

Izzy, unsure of what to do, averted his eyes, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. You were silent for another moment, and then sheepishly handed him his guitar. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” He took it back, still beet-red, and covered himself once again. You stood there for another minute, shuffling from foot to foot. “How long has it been...you know?” Izzy pursed his lips. “Since you started eating that stupid fucking popsicle.” You grimaced. “Oh. Oh. I see. Sorry, baby. You could have told me, you know. I would have helped you out...with that.”

Izzy chuckled, feeling a little less embarrassed but still a bit awkward. “Wish I’d known that before I sat here with a stiffie for 10 minutes.” You laughed. “Yeah. Bet it hurts.” He nodded, considering the situation at hand for a moment. “So...is the offer still there, or did I miss my chance?” You smiled, quickly dropping to your knees, and he hurriedly placed his guitar on the floor to allow you better access. “Here, let me make it up to you, baby.” You unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly, reaching in and pulling out his bright red, raging erection.

He moaned softly as you rubbed your thumb over his leaking tip, repeating the motion before beginning to slowly pump his shaft with one hand. You moved your other hand to play with his balls, and he threw his head back and gripped the couch. “Fuck, baby, stop teasing and use your mouth already.” You obediently leaned down and took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it lightly and running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. Izzy fisted his hands into your hair and pulled you down farther, almost choking you with the tip.

You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you slowly took his entire length into your mouth, deepthroating and trying not to gag it as he bucked his hips up against your mouth. “Fuck, that’s good, baby, just like that.” Encouraged by the praise, you moved your head all the way down until your lips were around the base of his cock, moving a hand up to play with his balls as you did so. You could taste his precum in your mouth, and knew he was close. You pulled all the way off of his dick, eliciting a whine of protest from Izzy that was cut short when you rubbed his tip again.

“God, come on, don’t tease me baby. Put your mouth back on it, I’m so fucking close.” You decided to have mercy on your boyfriend and leaned back down to kiss the tip before swirling your tongue around it to lick up the precum. Izzy’s mouth fell open, his head leaning back against the couch, and his cock twitched in your mouth. You sucked harshly on the head, receiving the same reaction, and knew he was right on the edge of cumming. You wrapped both hands around his shaft and put what was left in your mouth, going down on until your lips met your hands and then pulling off and chasing your lips with your hands, effectively jacking him off and blowing him all at once.

It was one of Izzy’s favorite techniques, but it also took a while, and he was clearly more focused on finishing as fast as possible; he moved your hands away from his shaft, grabbed your hair in his fist, and shoved your head all the way down on his dick before pulling you off and repeating the movement, harshly face-fucking you and impulsively jerking his hips up. Saliva poured from the corners of your lips, slicking his cock up enough to speed up your movements, and his cock twitched again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna..”

You moaned on his cock, knowing it would push him over the edge, and sure enough, he threw his head back and moaned loudly as he came into your mouth, hips jerking with each spurt of cum as his grip tightened on your hair. When he finally finished, he released your hair from his grip and allowed you to pull away, swallowing his load and wiping your mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to slow his breathing and his heartbeat and he came down from his high. You rested your head on his thigh, and he looked down at you and smiled. “Thanks, baby.” You laughed. “Anytime. Next time, just ask me instead of acting like a weird-ass and hiding it.”

He nodded. “Deal.” Izzy got up, and helped you to your feet. “Well, I’m burning up now. Got any more popsicles in there?” Your eyes widened, and you looked over towards the table in horror. “Shit! My popsicle!” The frozen treat had melted and was now dripping off of the coffee table into a puddle on the floor. Izzy burst out laughing, and you pouted. “It’s not funny, Iz! That was a good popsicle....” Izzy wrapped his arm around your shoulder and smirked. “It’s fine, don’t worry, I’ll clean it up for you. Let’s go get you another one. Unless you want another taste of my popsicle.” You elbowed his side, and he laughed again. “In your dreams, Stradlin.”

#guns n roses #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin smut #izzy stradlin imagine #axl rose #steven adler #duff mckagan #slash #slash hudson #slash guns n roses #classic rock #80s rock #rock and roll #80s music #appetite for destruction #use your illusion #the spaghetti incident #chinese democracy

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gouged-out-eyes · 5 years ago

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From The Stars, Part 7

Summary: The time has come for the birth.

Warnings: Definitely some descriptive, gory birth/egg laying in this one. Not really for the faint of heart.

Authors Note: So I was going to wait to do the birth until the next part but I really wanted to get it over with cause I knew it was going to be a big turning part in this story and I could totally make this like a 50 part story but I wanted to keep this one more on the shorter side, so y’all get the birth in this one. It’s gross. My mind went there. I have no excuses.

MASTERLIST

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“You must really like milk.”

The statement draws Kira out of her daze. She had gone to the store to pick up some groceries. It seemed she couldn’t ever get enough to eat, and she had this awful need to constantly drink milk. So she had loaded her cart with as many gallons of milk as she could and she had been staring at the yogurt lost in thought when someone had commented on her strange pickings.

“Oh, I’m...expecting company.” Kira mumbles, quickly heading out of that area and off towards the meat section.

Along with a taste for milk she had also acquired a taste for meat, any kind of meat, raw or cooked. Milk and meat seemed to be the only things that tasted good to her and seemed to ease the constant ache of hunger that plagued her. She hadn’t wanted to leave the barn, but she knew she needed to stock up on something for a while. She had no idea how long the eggs would need to gestate. She had put on her biggest sweater to hide the swell of her stomach. It seemed they were getting bigger and bigger every day and she wasn’t sure how long she’d have before either they came out or they got too heavy to carry around. She couldn’t exactly ask anyone for help, nor could she send her alien out to do the shopping. Both would raise far too many questions. So she would stock up for the time being now before things took a turn.

She felt strange. Like she should have been panicking. She was pregnant with an alien’s eggs. Walking around with alien babies in her body, shopping for groceries like it was just a normal day. Eventually she’d give birth to the eggs and have eight baby aliens running around.

But she was calm.

Freakishly calm.

She grabs a few steaks, and enough ground beef to fill her freezer before heading towards the checkout. It’s early enough that there’s not many people in the store, thankfully not a lot of eyes to question her condition. It was a small town and most people knew at least who her dad was. The last thing she needed was for someone to recognize her and notice. How was she going to explain going from being not pregnant a month ago to looking like she was now five months pregnant? How would she explain the pregnancy? She couldn’t exactly tell the truth. People would think she’d lost it.

Kira ignores the looks from the checker as she loads the gallons of milk and pounds of meat onto the counter. She pays before pushing her cart out to her car, loading it into the trunk. She’s glad to get out of the store and out of town. She felt anxious, like an itch at the back of her brain being away from her alien now. Even just being in the house while he was in the barn made her nervous. She knows part of it is the fact she could pop the eggs out at any moment, and he was her only hope for knowing what to do when that happens. But she can’t deny she had felt an intense connection with him now that she was carrying his clutch. Sometimes she thinks she can sense him communicating with her, more just feelings than actual formed words.

Maybe she really was losing her mind.

Kira loads up her fridge and freezer with milk and meat, popping open a gallon before sitting down on her couch. She was tired, her feet and ankles aching already from carrying around the heavy eggs. Her back constantly hurt and she couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep very much. It had only been a week, but she couldn’t wait for the eggs to finally be birthed, just to give her body a break.

********

Kira wakes to a cramping sensation in her lower abdomen. It had been just over a month since she’d been impregnated, and she looked like she was eight months pregnant with twins now. The eggs were heavy, making moving only necessary when it was unavoidable. Like bathroom trips or trips to the kitchen. This morning, however, Kira instantly feels the need to move. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin, her lower abdomen cramping and spasming.

She pulls herself up, grabbing her phone before heading to the kitchen. She had taken up residence on the couch, unable to make it up or down the stairs anymore. She grabs the half empty milk from the fridge, drinking a couple sips before her stomach turns violently, making her puke it back up into the sink.

She’s washing the puke from her hair when her phone rings, startling her. It’s an unknown number, making her hesitant to answer it, but she does anyway.

“Hello?”

“Kira?” A familiar voice asks.

“Dad?”

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.”

“I’m uh-I’m alright.” She says, holding her breath as another cramp shoots through her.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound well.”

“I just...been feeling a bit sick this morning.”

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can come over and take you. Bring you something.”

“No, no, I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of you being alone while you’re sick.”

She’s not sure where this caring attitude was coming from all of a sudden, but she’s not in the mood for potentially fake concern. “No, I think it’s just a bug. I don’t want to risk getting you sick too.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Kira takes a breath, relaxing as the cramping passes. “Maybe when I’m feeling better, we can meet up for coffee or something.”

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds good.”

“Okay. I’ll call you, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Kira doesn’t say goodbye, hanging up the phone. She doesn’t know what prompted her father to suddenly start caring for her, or what he had even really called about. All she knows is she doesn’t want him showing up and witnessing what she knows is about to happen.

She stumbles to the door as a bigger cramp tears through her, aching up her spine and down along her legs. She feels the urge to go to the bathroom and vomit all at the same time, but her mind is driving her to get to one place.

The barn.

She pushes through the pain, taking twice as long to drag herself out to the barn, the door already open when she gets there. She slams it closed, locking it. She feels strangely territorial suddenly, not wanting anyone to witness what was going to happen. She hears the familiar hiss, her alien coming out of the darkness and close to her. She hisses at it in return, making it stop where it is. So many feelings and thoughts are rushing through her head, overwhelming her. But most of all, the pain throbbing deep in her pelvis is driving her mad.

She yanks her pants off, glad she had been forced into sweatpants and leggings with the size her stomach had grown to. Something wet is dripping from her, sliding down her legs and dripping onto the floor. Something inside of her shifts, fluid gushing out onto the floor. The alien lets out a roaring hiss, pain rippling through Kira, forcing her to nearly double over.

She starts to feel the need to push, kneeling down on the gooey floor. She’s sweaty and panting, something large starting to slide out of her body. She feels like she’s being torn open, the first egg starting to work its way out of her. She bears down on it, pushing hard with every wave of pain. More fluid gushes out of her, splattering onto the floor under her. She pushes herself up, squatting as best she can as she screams in pain, something sliding out of her canal with a force of fluid, a solid thunk sounding on the floor.

Kira loses her balance, falling back on her bottom, the pain subsiding for a moment. Sitting on the floor, covered in bloody goo, was a black oblong-shaped egg. It had to be the size of an ostrich egg, if not bigger. Her alien steps closer, tilting its head as it stares down at the egg. It lets out a hiss, getting its face close to the egg. Kira doesn’t get to watch it, pain rippling through her again.

She squats again, more fluid leaving her, the second egg coming out faster from her already stretched canal. Kira falls to her knees, her hand reaching out and touching the warm, gooey, blood covered egg under her. It’s strange in texture, not like a bird egg. Rougher, the outer shell thicker. It’s heavy in her hands, feeling more like a medicine ball than an egg as she moves it over to the first one. Sweat is dripping in her eyes now, her muscles cramping as the third, fourth and fifth eggs join the first two in the world. Each one looks identical, each one sapping more and more of her strength.

Her legs are shaking, barely able to hold her up as she pushes out the sixth egg, even her cries of pain becoming more pitiful whimpers. There’s a pool under her feet on the floor, but she can’t see down far enough to see what it is. Her alien nudges her gently with its head, hissing quietly at her. She grips onto his arm, holding him tightly as she pushes the seventh egg out.

Her legs do give out, sending her into a heap on the floor. Her muscles are contracting painfully, something leaking out of her continuously. Her vision is swimming, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She feels weak, sick to her stomach. There was one egg left. One last one to push out.

She rolls onto her back, pulling her legs up before pushing on her stomach, trying to guide the last egg out. She’s exhausted, tired of pushing. The smell in the barn is coppery from the blood, her blood. Her back arches, pushing her up, almost sitting as she forces the last egg from her body, just barely having time to wrap her hands around it before she falls back to the ground, unable to lift herself back up again.

The last egg is smaller than the others had been, its color lighter. She wraps her arms around it, holding it against her chest. Blood and fluid soaks into her shirt but she doesn’t care, holding onto her last egg as her vision goes dark, her body giving out finally.

Part 8

#xenomorph x human #xenomorph x oc #alien #aliens #xenomorph #birth #graphic #blood #i'm a nasty person #this got really gross #i have no excuse #not for the faint of heart

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bigowlenergy · 5 years ago

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heat + horror

next chapter of How to Raise the Dead!

Maddie stands at the door to the basement, hazmat tied down around her waist, staring into the green dark. To her left, the cicada scream en mass. The refrigerator hums at her back. The portal buzzes below. The cold air that swirls up the steps is incredible against the summer heatwave. Maddie. Wants to go down. Hesitates, still.

Danny is down there.

Maddie loves her son, but she loves her daughter, too, and knows better than to bother Jazz when she’s trying to finish a paper and watch the finale to her latest K-drama at the same time (again) and expect anything but getting snapped at and increasing her stress. The experience is just new, with Danny. He was always the relaxed one, but once it hit 80 degrees in the house, the basement became his domain, with the same low tolerance for interruption. With an extra edge of physical discomfort and medical concern. Maddie just doesn’t want to upset him further. It feels like she does that all too often, but Danny just won’t say anything when she does. It’s hard to understand him. She wants to, but he’s pulled so far away from them already...

“Hey, mom.” Jazz stands in the entryway, kicking her flip flops off, two bags of gas station ice slung over her shoulders. “He moved yet?” She asks.

“No, I don’t think so. I was just about to check,” Maddie offers, stepping in to take the second bag from Jazz. She’d stepped out to get some water. Hadn’t gone back. Condensation from the ice leaks down her shoulders, sticks her hair to her neck. Instant relief.

“Alright.” She says. “You coming down? It’s cold.”

And Maddie hesitates at the mouth of the threshold, for just a moment.

“Sounds nice,” She tells the stairs, hidden under the clanging of Jazz’s steps.

At the bottom, all she can see is the ring of lawnchairs and the little blow up kiddie pool that Jazz is dumping her bag of ice in. The clear vinyl tubing of the cheap outdoor furniture catches every refraction of green light from the open portal. An oversized alien dollhouse in Maddie’s lab. The smell of squeaky fresh plastic overwhelms the ectoplasm. The basement has always been climate controlled, and underground besides, so the downright frosty air that the open portal adds to the mix creates the strange atmosphere of a sauna in winter. Inverted.

But the chilliest thing by far is Danny.

Maddie finally gets a good look at him when Jazz collapses back into her own chair, sticking her feet into the pool with a great heaving sigh. Maddie appreciates her running to the store for them. It’s nearly 110 out. She goes to dump her part of the ice in and nearly fumbles to keep from pouring it straight over Danny’s head. He’s buried up to his chest, now. What she thought were odd shadows from the portal are actually his folded knees, the only other part not under ice. His eyes are glazed and dull, staring sightlessly into the green vortex, his head pillowed on the wet plastic rim of the pool. Soaked hair drawn back by one of Jazz’s headbands drips slowly onto the concrete floor. Maddie frowns at that. They specifically asked the kids to make sure nothing in the lab was exposed to water. Should have put a towel down.

She probably can’t blame Danny for lack of foresight. He doesn’t look good.

“Hi, sweetie,” Maddie whispers, tucking the ice in around his legs instead.

His blank expression doesn’t change as he belatedly mouths ‘hi’ back to her.

“Drink your slush,” Scolds Jazz, kicking at the ice idly. Danny’s buried hands slowly tip the half melted slushie toward his face. The straw rests in his mouth for a while, but Maddie’s fairly sure he doesn’t drink any. Her poor baby. Jazz had picked it up for him the first time she went to the store, nearly three hours ago.

Maddie pulls her hands from the ice and wipes them on her shirt. Goes to the monitoring station set up on the side of the portal. The nodes taped to Danny’s neck are probably the only things keeping him from fully submerging himself. His oxygen levels are lower than his usual terrifying baseline of 87%, hovering in the 84-86% range, and his heartrate is just short of clinical death. Most worryingly, his temperate is reading at nearly 80 - a deadly fever, considering his normal 71.3.

Maddie wishes they knew how to really help him. This feels strangely like a - not like a test, not really, but like something is being withheld from them. Like Danny knows what to do, but is still too scared to tell them. Like it’s something he doesn’t want them to know, another little secret on the pile. A tiny declaration of loss of trust.

Or he’s afraid of them knowing.

Not that he could tell them, right now. He’s been basically unresponsive to even the most drastic of stimuli since his internal temp hit 75 an hour ago. Jack had driven out for the lawn furniture around that time, helped wrangle Danny out of the bathtub and into the lab for better monitoring, then disappeared again a few minutes ago. Maddie has an inkling of what he’s up to, so she’ll just hold down the fort and see what happens.

But Danny. Looking at this array, she has the clinging idea that this would be easier for him if he was a ghost. But even now, he’s so hesitant about letting them see him. Has never, in word or deed, trusted them with that. It’s an open secret. What he is.

Who he is.

Jazz knows; Maddie knows she known for some time now. Maddie knows. Does Jack? Maddie knows. She tries to imagine that alien presence in this little family tableau. More green in the air. An extra buzz of static under the portal. White hair, dripping. Maddie knows, but it feels like she knows less than she did three weeks ago.

She’s seen Phantom with her own eyes. Seen him fly and fight and snarl like an animal. Seen him bounce and smile and joke. How does he do it? Maybe Maddie just isn’t ready for the perfect intersection of those things yet. Does - does Danny’s ghost leave his body?

Is Maddie really ready to face her sons’ corpse and his ghost at the same time?

Jazz splashes suddenly, feet shifting, head tipped back dramatically off the edge of her seat, hair in a huge bun, wearing her only pair of shorts. Little embroidered ghosts on the hem. Would he electrify the pool, if he changed?

Maddie sucks in a breath and drags her eyes back to the monitor. Maybe it would be better if he did. Actually. The shock might be what he needs to stabilize his heart. He’s obviously reliant on cold temperatures to facilitate stronger conductivity of his electrical impulse based neurology. Like any other ghost. He’s losing stability of consciousness. Unable to rely on the physical, chemical reaction based impulses of the li - of humans. Maddie’s trying not to think about it. She doesn’t want to think about it. The monitor won’t tell her anything else.

Danny, the ghost, Danny, her son, is suffering from mild destabilization and his human body is too close to brain dead to keep him from -

God, Maddie is glad she doesn’t know.

Jack, bless that man, saves her from her thoughts by clambering down the stairs.

“Icecream!” He calls, voice pitched less exuberantly loud than usual. In deference of the small lab space, empty of the usual noise of running machines, or in deference to Danny. Or her own nerves. Jack hands Jazz a pint of strawberry pistachio and a spoon, sets a bag near the pool and then appears at Maddie’s side. Kisses her cheek. Glances at the monitor.

“How’s he doing?” He asks, handing her her own pint and a fork. Pecan Caramel soymilk.

“Not much worse. But we don’t know beyond his baselines, so it could mean anything. Temperature’s been stable for the last twenty minutes.” Maddie digs out the first pecan she sees and keeps it in her mouth to cool her sensitive teeth. Offers nothing else. Jack can read the screen. If he arrives to the same conclusion, then they’ll talk about it upstairs. Away from the kids. Hopefully, Danny’s too busy barely existing to overhear, if it comes down to it.

Jack nods, bullshooter blue eyes sweeping over the monitor. One huge, extremely hot hand rests on her back, goes to rub soothingly, but Maddie shoos him with her fork.

“You’re cold!” He says delightedly, sticking his hands on the folds of her turned down hazmat. He spares her a smile, then snaps his attention back to the screen. Lingers on Danny’s oxygen levels. “Well,” Jack says, straightening up, “Let’s try to get his internal temperature down a bit, then. Come on, Danno!”

He unties the cloth bag and pulls out a full gallon of icecream. There is no room in the freezer for that.

“Okay, buddy, I got us a real treat, straight from the farmer’s market creamery, you know, the people with the ecto-infected cows we helped out last spring? Got us a discount! Anyway, it’s custom. Chocolate icecream, fudge pieces, cacao nibs, coconut shavings, sprinkles, cookie bits, and those little soft dough chunks -” He cuts off, leans in closer to the pool, watches Danny intensely for a few seconds. “Yep! Extra cookie pieces. Wanna try some?”

Jack sticks two spoons in the open gallon and sets it aside. Gently eases the mostly ignored red slushie out of Danny’s hands and passes it off to Jazz. She doesn’t hesitate to pour some of it over her icecream. Maddie shudders. Bites her pecan. Takes a seat.

Jack pulls a shop towel out of his shorts pocket and soaks it in the pool, then wipes his face with it before slinging it around his neck. Takes a tiny spoonful of the icecream and starts to set it in Danny’s direction.

“Just try a bit, Danno. I’ll let you drink dry ice again,” He cajoles. Maddie whips her head up to glare at him. Jazz shrieks with her mouth closed, prevented from yelling properly by a well timed frozen strawberry. Jack ignores them both. He’d better have a damn good reason and some damn good results.

He gets Danny to eat a little, at least. He’d refused dinner last night, and it’s almost 7 PM, now. After a while, Jack leans in again. All Maddie can hear from a bare few feet away is a quiet, wet little rasp.

Jack beams his most reassuring grin at their son. “Of course it’s got ectoplasm in it; it’s for you, Danny-boy!” He says. And. That might be the first time any of them have put it to words. Admitted it out loud. It should feel like a taboo broken, but somehow, it eases a little relief into the atmosphere. A confession they all share.

Then Jack frowns a bit. Eyebrows drawn down in concern when he says “Is it not enough?”

Danny shakes his head, a light tremble of motion. The wet plastic squeaks under his neck. Lies still. Jack sits back, looks up to Maddie. Jazz is leaned back in her seat, staring down at Danny with a sharp frown of disapproval on her face. A fierce set to her eyes that tells Maddie everything she needs to know.

“We’ll get you more, sweetie,” Maddie tests the waters carefully, kneeling down across from Jack, sets a hand on Danny’s drying hair, keeps Jazz in her sights. Danny closes his eyes and shakes his head again, turning further into her palm and sighing quietly. A low, tired sound of dismissal. Not for Maddie. Jazz looks away, guilt and worry plain on her face. Bites her lip. Lids her icecream and mumbles an excuse of a goodbye, looking a bit mutinous as she leaves.

Maddie has to wonder if she should step back from this. Let Jazz do whatever needs to be done that Danny is hiding from them. But she can’t. These are her children; they shouldn’t need to be providing something for themselves. It’s her duty to care for them.

But. She is also an ectobiologist. Knows damn well what ghosts need. Has done in-field observations on this sort of thing for at least a decade.

It’s not the amount of ectoplasm that matters. It’s the source.

They can’t provide what Danny needs from the lab.

Sure, they’ve never seen Phantom feeding, but he’s so rarely seen at all. Elusive. Non-normative behavior. Maybe -

An incomplete hypothesis has never sat well with her. Her son being miserably sick while she has the power to help him is not sitting any better.

“Danny,” She says firmly, gently taking his cold face in her hands and wincing at the mincing slowness of his pulse under his jaw. “Please, just tell us what’s wrong, honey.”

Something thumps upstairs. What is Jazz doing? Maddie had assumed she left the house. To get. Something. Bring something back? Get a ghost they know to help?

Maddie’s seen ghosts negotiate and willingly feed from each other. The statistically significant ratio of mutual encounter to violent attack was one of the things that tipped the scales for Maddie and Jack on whether ghosts have the capacity for civilized society or not.

If Danny has some sort of pact or agreement with a local ghost, then Maddie is intensely interested in learning every detail of it. As both his mother, and as an ectobiologist. Jazz probably has extensive notes.

Upstairs, something drags across the floor. Maddie jumps at the noise.

“I’ll go check,” Jack offers, glancing guiltily back to Danny before heading up the stairs.

Maddie turns her attention back to Danny and actually feels her heart skip a beat when she finds him staring up at her with dull, glazed eyes. His face too-still and eerie in the green light of the buzzing portal. It dyes him colors he shouldn’t be. She takes in a breath, and calms herself, confused by her own reaction. She’s been exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for nearly two decades. Maddie lost her innate terror-reaction to ectoentities years ago. This is completely unfamiliar to her.

But the way Danny’s too blank face flashes into guilt as he flinches and tries to pull away is not. It’s the same reaction as Jazz earlier.

Guilt. Something withheld. Upstairs, something drags against the wood floors again. Slow, deliberate.

“Danny -” She starts, concerned. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and turns away from her. Mouths something that she reads as sorry. A creak on the stairs. The lights flicker. Maddie jolts back in a crouch immediately, hand falling to where her weapons should be. One hand on Danny. Assuring his location. Her other hand closes on nothing. Of course not. Maddie doesn’t wear her weapons around Danny. Not any more. There’s nothing there. She forces herself into a more relaxed stance with some difficulty.

What could they have upstairs for this? Surely there’s not another ghost living in their house? Maddie would like to think that a second instance would be ridiculous. Maybe a hidden freezer of ectoplasmic samples? She looks down at the human ghost in her lab. Maybe he needs a rare type of ectoplasm, due to his unusual biology? His half human biology.

Half human. Needing ectoplasm and emotion, but also needing food. Maddie’s heart picks up uncomfortably, sits high in her throat. At the other end of the room is the wall safe with the Nightingale journals. The myths and accounts and legends of violent ghosts. Hunted for their danger to humanity. Their hunger. Maddie and Jack have long discounted or disproved those old folk tales.

But then again, they’d also disproved the existence of something like Danny.

“Danny -” She tries again, watching the way he’s turned away from her intently. Mouth pressed in a thin, unhappy line. Every ounce of him tense, entombed in ice.

Jack bounds down the stairs. Maddie jolts to her feet. He’s got the bulky old TV from the sitting room in his arms. Maddie’s heart is pounding, her mind blank.

“We’ve got the cure, Mads!” He cries. Jazz follows, carrying the DVD player and a stack of DVDs.

In the pool, Danny shudders strongly enough to stir the ice. Moans out “No,” loudly enough to be heard.

“Shut up, Danny.” Jazz says firmly. “You need this.”

Jack finishes plugging the makeshift entertainment center together. Jazz sets the DVDs down and sticks one in the player. Maddie’s seen every title on the pile, but doesn’t recognize them from anywhere in the house. All horror films, many classic. Monster movies. Slasher flicks. It’s so disingenuous from where her mind had been that she’s left frozen.

“They’re from Sam,” Jazz explains. “For when somebody runs out of juice.” She spares Danny an annoyed glare and hits play.

Oh. Oh. Maddie looks down at the miserable little ghost in the pool, her shadow cast long over his morose, guilty expression. He’s so pale. The colors from the TV flicker against the vinyl and ice and ectoplasm in surreal flashes. Some loud sound blares from the old speakers with more static than usual and Maddie jolts again. All her senses on high alert, an undercurrent of unnatural fear flooding her cerebellum. An artificially induced state of terror. The buzzing she’s been ignoring with all the ease of overexposure is Danny’s aura, set to 18 hz.

There hasn’t been a ghost attack in nearly a week. All the local specters retreating to the other side of the portal as the heat wave rages on theirs. Danny hasn’t been able to emphathically power himself in a week. Maybe longer.

Ghosts feed on fear.

He’s been overwhelmed with the heatwave, unable to patrol his territory, probably not physically fed in a while, and emotionally weakened. Of course he’s destabilizing.

Maddie lets out a breath of relief. This is something easily remedied, at least. She leans in and kisses Danny’s forehead. In apology. In absolution. Feels guilty for her distrust of him with such an irrational idea. Feels the rekindled instinctual hyperawareness of a ghost near to her vulnerable human throat. Ignores it. Helps Jack finish moving the chairs closer to the pool. Sets her icecream back on her lap. Settles in and lets herself overthink the timing of the next jumpscare. Watches her little ghost relax slowly as he draws strength from their shared, controlled fear. Wonders if he has a vomeronasal organ, with the way his mouth is a little open. If it helps with emphathic filtering, or if it’s psychosomatic. Wonders if he feels better. Fishes his hand out of the ice and holds it tight until he squeezes her back.

It’s been a while since they’ve had a family movie night.

#dannymay2020 #danny phantom #heat #fenton family fun times #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny fenton #heat and horror #fanfiction

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ironmansuuucks · 5 years ago

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Dark Nights

dewey finn x reader

hey guys, I have a lil anon request here! dewey finn x reader ! This is very angsty and dark so please be warned!! Reader has a scary train journey on her way home and needs Dewey to keep her safe and grounded once she’s home. I hope you are all ok!

(This is pretty heavy. But these are real life issues and situations that happen that shouldn’t and need to be brought to light about how wrong they are. This is only a little fic but more light and conversation should be raised.)

words: 1240

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual situations (18+!!), dark, fluff at end

I also reached out to @thewolfisapartofmysoul for an aesthetic to go with this one, so thank you vv much for this perfect fit

Nearly home, nearly home, nearly home, you repeated to yourself over and over on the tube home from work. You had been sitting on the train for almost 30 minutes, feeling sick and disgusted, not being able to take one more moment of the humiliation. You glanced over at the guy again. He was still staring at you. The tears were welling in your eyes and you needed to get off now. A tear escaped as you stood up and just about ran to the tube doors to get off. There was still one more stop before your own but you couldn’t sit there any longer. You were shaking ever so slightly and you felt sick.

You were like 90% sure that guy was sitting there, jerking himself off on the middle of the tube. It was completely empty. Only you him, and some guy sitting at the very front with earphones in. he kept looking at you and you just couldn’t do it anymore.

As soon as you were grounded at the station and heard the train leave, you began to sob. Hard. And rushed towards the exit. Needing to get home. You needed to see Dewey. You grabbed the sides of your jacket as you folded your arms, troubled water leaking from your anxious eyes. It was going to take you an extra half an hour to get home now.

You were all out of tears by the time you reached your apartment. Your eyes stinging red and your body completely worn out. It was hard to describe how you felt. Kind of empty, but shaken up and anxious. But, numb. You dropped your bag at the door, along with your shoes and jacket and grabbed your phone. Dewey.

“hey um, I really need you right now. I’ve had a really rough day and I need to see you” you text him anxiously.

He text back almost imminently.

“be over in five xx”

“can you bring me over some ben and jerry’s?”

“already on it. Peanut butter cup right ;)”

“and maybe one of your hoodies?”

“you can have the one I’m wearing. That way it’ll be nice and warm for you sweetheart”

“and can you maybe spend the night?”

“yeah I’ll work something out”

“or maybe even just until I fall asleep?”

“well that’s a given. And pancakes in the morning?”

You smiled, admittedly very sadly, for the first time since leaving work almost two hours ago. If there was one person that was going to save you tonight, it was going to be Dewey Finn.

You trudged your way to your bedroom. Your shoulders were heavy, and aching, your feet dragging you along the floor. When you got into the room you picked up one of Dewey’s t-shirts and a pair of joggers. Your peeled yourself out of your clothes, discarding them in a pile on the floor. you felt disgusted as you caught yourself in the mirror. You felt somehow used, and as if your body not all yours, as if you were in someone else’s skin. It was the worst feeling.

You picked up Dewey’s t shirt and threw it over your body. It had just been washed so sadly you couldn’t even smell a hint of him on it. As you were stuffing your legs into the joggers, the new lingerie you had bought caught your eye. It almost made you fell nauseous. You looked away from It and pulled up the joggers. Grabbing a bobble from the table and throwing your hair up in a bun, feeling exhausted.

You plopped yourself down on the couch in front of the TV, but you never put it on. Instead you sat and cursed yourself because you never said anything. You just let him do it. Your head was spaced out and you felt dirty.

Suddenly though you heard the door open, but you stayed still. Staring into a random space in the room, hugging your knees.

“baby? ba-“ Dewey starts as he comes in and shuts the door behind you, but he sees you sitting on the couch, curled up. He sits the bags and what not that he brought in on the counter, kicks off his shoes and he’s over to you in an instant.

“hey my angel, what’s up?” he says as he crouches by the couch and rubs your knee. His hair is manic and his eyes are troubled with worry. You look down at him and begin to tear up again “D-Dewey..” you sob very quietly.

Dewey rushes to action as he sits on the couch and pulls you into him. “hey, hey, listen sweetheart you’re alright… you’re ok, it’s ok” he soothes you, his cheek against the top of you head as he rubs your back. “you’re ok”.

He holds you for a while. Neither of you speaking, but he whispers praises in your ear until you’ve settled down enough to tell him what’s wrong.

You breathe him in. His scent calming you, and grounding you. His body pressed against yours reminding you that your safe. His fingers were soothing as they rubbed your back, and stroked your hair. He was here, and you were ok.

You explained to him exactly what had happened and how you felt about it. Dewey was absolutely livid, but he knew that you needed him to be supportive right now so he kept his vibe calm and soft for you, even though in his head he had already killed the jerk 18 different ways for hurting his baby.

He looked into your troubled eyes and his heart broke for you. He wished he could have been there with you, or if only he could take away your pain now. He pulled your head into his chest as he kissed your head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.. but I promise I’m here now, and I’m not leaving.”

Dewey separated from you lightly and took off his jumper. “here, why don’t you jump in for a shower, I’ll stick your ice cream in the freezer and heat up the pizza I bought for us, and have it all ready for you coming out?”

You nodded, sniffling as he handed you his jumper. You inhaled his smell from it; so comforting.

* * * *

After some much needed pizza and ice cream, you and Dewey headed to bed, the weight of the evening finally lifting a little with your goof ball being around to cheer you up and keep you safe. You kept on Dewey’s hoodie for being so cold and a pair of cosy pyjama bottoms, and jumped into the sheets, as Dewey pottered around getting ready for bed.

“hurry please, I need cuddles so I can steal your body heat” you grinned slightly at him. Dewey chuckled, taking off his trousers and discarding them on the floor, before hopping in next to you and pulling you into his embrace “c’mere you”.

“Dew? Can you please rub my back?” you asked him shyly. “of course I can baby”. He moved his hand underneath your jumper as he began to trace little patterns and drag his nails very lightly along your back. It was the most comforting thing in the world.

The day began to lift from your heavy soul as you finally relaxed into his arms. He was there, and that’s all you needed to know. You were safe with him.

�� (I’m not gonna tag anyone in this just because i know its sensitive material!)

#dewey #dewey finn x reader #school of rock #dewey finn #alex brightman #beetlejuice #fluff #dew #angst #beetlejuice the musical

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msbarrows · 4 years ago

Photo

Why yes, a heavy smoker did live in this house for 40 years, why do you ask?

So my dad died over the summer; from old age - he’d have been 89 three days ago. My youngest brother and I - we’d both been living with him for the past decade - now need to do things like clean the house, and eventually repaint it and so forth.

Having just returned yesterday from two months away, with cataract surgeries over with, and every colour and change of shade suddenly startlingly saturated and detailed, I can now see in disgustingly vivid clarity just how much dirt I was only vaguely aware of with the cataracts. Like, I knew the walls were nicotine stained, I just couldn’t really see it in its (aw)full glory.

So when the phone rang while I was making tea this morning, I took one look at the land line handset and thought ‘I don’t even want to touch that, much less put it anywhere near my face!’

So I cleaned the phone...

Of course, then the startlingly white phone made me really notice the dried coffee spatters, toast crumbs, toaster smoke, and cigarette smoke/cooking grease buildup on the microwave cart plus standard-and-bracket shelving right beside the phone. I was already planning to clean the fridge today - I came back to stuff like two month old celery liquifying in the bottom of the fridge - so I put off tackling it until later. Later ended up being while supper heated (frozen leftover butter chicken, go me for stocking the chest freezer so well before I went south), at which point I started taking stuff off the shelves, then taking down and washing them.

And once the shelves were down, decided the brackets and standards could use a wash. And with the shelves, brackets, and shelf contents out of the way, could see how dirty the walls were. And after moving the cart aside - since I might as well wash at least that little corner of the walls while stuff was out of the way - discovered the Great Dying Place of Dad’s Dropped Pills, and that the floor under the cart needs a wash even more than the rest of the kitchen floor already does (since the cart only rarely got moved and cleaned under).

(And yes supper did get eaten somewhere in that sequence.)

So it’s been an exciting evening of drudgery, including such highlights as The Quest For A Bucket Not Already In Use - apparently the water heater sprung a leak while I was away; our rectanguler mop bucket is now in use to catch drips, and the round spin-dry-mop bucket is the wrong size and shape to work with a foam head mop. Thankfully I still had on hand a plastic tub I used to use for clothing that needed hand washing, back when I was still out on my own, which worked okay as a mop bucket. Also I got to re-experience a reminder of that great old wall-cleaning classic, ‘Ewww, Ewwwwww! I know I need to use rubber gloves, but do the suds and dirty water really need to dribble down my arms off of them like that!?’

In the end, even after pouring Mr Clean directly onto the sponge being used to wash the walls, and dilute bleach in the rinse water, the walls aren’t exactly pristine white They are merely a hell of a lot less stained and filthy. At least in that one small corner, as high up as I could reach short of standing on a chair.

I’m now really thankful that one of the early pandemic shut-in things my brother decided to tackle, was washing the food prep part of the kitchen. He did the side around and over the stove - the worst bit, frankly - while I cleaned the opposite side, around and over the sink, so at least our cooking has been in a clean(lier) area. Though in all honesty the kitchen (and far too much of the rest of the house) won’t really be clean until the walls have been TSP’d, rinsed, and repainted. Preferably with a really good primer first to prevent any lingering cigarette stains and smells from leaking through.

I’ve returned the cart and shelves to their place; the cart and the small aplliances on it still need cleaning, but that can wait until later this evening, I need an hour or three gaming break first, And the floor still needs washing, but that can wait until tomorrow. Or possibly even later; I already have defrosting the chest freezer on my to-do list for tomorrow. It doesn’t need it particularly badly, since it was last done just a few months ago, but it’s as good a way as any to take inventory of what’s on hand after two months away.

#Cleaning #Me Myself and I #House Cleaning #For some weird reason I prefer cleaning #When I am home alone #I feel oddly self conscious about cleaning stuff when someone else is in the house #Like #Oh No! Don't catch me not procrastinating!#Procrastination runs in my family #Our dad taught us well

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years ago

Text

Shattered Sky - Hwang Hyunjin Zombie Apocalypse Au Part 12

(<- Previous Part) (Next Part ->)

Chapter is a tiny bit short bc of the next chapter

Your knife slid down the carcass of a doe that was strung by her back legs, her insides easily falling out as you gutted her. You heard Woobin behind you, skinning one of the few rabbits he had caught earlier. You both skinned and cut your animals, placing the meats in their specific bins.

Hoseok used to do this job with Woobin, but ever since his untimely death, you’ve been taking over. You’ve been closer to Woobin since then, as he’s the only one left from your old village. The two of you had gotten closer the past week since Hoseok passed, your presence helping him get through it.

You wiped your forehead, pushing all the sweat away as you finished the last animal. You moved the bins to the giant freezer in the cantina, giving the hides to a few of the elders. They had made their own job, to make things out of the furs and bones you collected. The woman you had patched up during the raid had come up with the idea, and now the elders looked lively as they sewed and knitted. Hyunjin has promised to look around for knitting and sewing materials to keep them busy and productive.

“More furs Y/N?” The woman, who you learned her name is Mrs. Oh, asked.

“Oh, yes.” You said with a smile.

“Looks like we have more to do ladies!” She said, clapping her hands.

You smiled at her as you handed them all of the furs, and she gently held your hand.

“Have you seen Yuna recently? Her belly is so big!” She said excitedly.

“I’m going to go see her now! And her belly is getting quite big!” You giggled.

“Tell her I hope her delivery is fast and easy.” She said with a big smile.

You nodded and bowed before you left, heading over to one of the buildings. You slipped through the door and down the stairs, where you heard Yuna’s voice talking to the children. She was teaching them numbers, and they all looked at her with such bright eyes. One of the elderly women came in to take over, and she made eye contact with you.

“Hey Y/N!” She greeted with a bright smile.

“Hey Yuna, how are you feeling?” You asked, your eyes brightening at the size of her swollen belly.

“Fine! My feet are a little swollen and they’re kicking a lot, but other than that I’m fine!” She said happily.

You smiled at her as you helped her arrange the classroom upstairs, moving all the books you all had mananged to get.

“How are you doing?” Yuna asked. “I know it must’ve been rough for you.”

“I’m okay.” You said with a big smile. “I’ll get through it.”

Yuna smiled and walked over to you, hugging you tightly.

“You’re so brave and strong Y/N. I admire you.” She said as you both hugged.

You closed your eyes and hugged her tight, her scent and her gentle voice comforting. When you both pulled away, you smiled at her.

“Thank you, Yuna. You’re strong too.” You said genuinely.

She smiled at you and packed up her stuff, about to pick up her bag. You grabbed it for her and smiled.

“I’ll carry it. Carrying around that belly has to be hard enough.” You giggled.

She laughed and nodded as you led her back to her cottage. You helped her place her things around before saying goodnight and stepping out into the warm night air. You slowly walked towards field, stopping in front of the two graves.

“I miss you both right now.” You sighed. “Things are going good, but they’d be better with you two here.”

You stood there for a moment, your eyes cast down.

“Want some company?”

You turned towards the voice, and saw Hyunjin standing there. He slowly walked over and looked down at the two graves, his presence bringing an odd sense of comfort.

“You’ve been doing good since he passed, I’m proud of you.” Hyunjin said, his eyes remaining on Hoseok’s grave.

“Thank you.” You said lowly.

He looked at you for a moment, before beckoning for you to follow.

“I have something to show you.”

He led you into the amusement park half, and you looked around at all of the abandoned rides. Some of them still looked brand new, and others looked like the apocalypse has been going on for decades.

“We don’t use the park, in fear walkers will see all the lights.” Hyunjin said, walking over to a carousel. “But some aren’t too bright.”

He flicked the lights on and the ride began to slowly move. You smiled as he looked at you. He walked towards the ride and hopped on, and when he came back around, he held his hand out to you. You grabbed it when he came around a second time and hopped on, getting onto one of the beautifully painted horses beside him.

“Sometimes I like to sit on the carousel and think. Even if it isn’t moving, no one finds me here.” He said lowly.

You nodded and smiled at him, leaning your head on the pole that connected the horse to the ride. You watched the rides go by multiple times as you both went around.

Hyunjin looked at you, your eyes bright and reflecting the lights on the carousel. He hasn’t seen you look actually happy in awhile, but now your true smile was on your face.

You both sat on it for awhile, before you both started to head back. He closed the amusement park and walked beside you as you both headed back. You stopped and turned to him, and he raised a brow.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” You said with a smile.

He smiled back and was about to respond, when gunshots filled both of your ears. Your smiles dropped and you both ran towards the gunfire. You gasped when you saw the gates open, people you didn’t recognize coming in with weapons. One truck came in and began firing an automatic, and Hyunjin had to grab you and throw you beneath him.

“We have to get our guns.” He said.

You nodded and got up, grabbing his hand and leading him to your cottage. You both took the guns that you had and ran out, firing as more people appeared.

“You guys again!” Minho growled, slamming a knife into one’s face and shooting another in the chest.

You saw Woobin slam an ax down on one, ripping it out and slamming it into another, before reaching into his holester and shooting. Felix and Chan we’re back to back, shooting at anyone who came in. Changbin was standing in front of Jeongin, who received a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Woojin was a few feet away, not ceasing his gunfire for any reason.

You stayed by Hyunjin’s side as you both fired, getting into the rhythm with the others. A few of the other survivors, who had taken your harsh advice, had their own guns and fired. Screams of pain and anger echoed through your ears as you all fought to protect your home. Guards at the top fired down at the entrance, trying to keep anyone coming in to a minimum.

“There’s walkers approaching!” One of the guards yelled.

“Shit!” Hyunjin yelled. “Try and close the inner gates!”

The guards made their way to the inner gate lever, but were being held off by the intruders as they shot at them.

“Cover them!” You yelled.

Everyone fired at the intruders that were blocking the few guards that were left, and horror filled you as the last few went down.

“Shit!” Hyunjin growled.

He looked at you, his eyes angry. “Cover us!”

Hyunjin grabbed your hand as he ran towards the front, leading you with him. You both fired at anyone coming after you both, and you quickly made it to the fallen guards. A few of them were still alive, but pretty badly injured.

Hyunjin dropped down beside the one, pushing his hair out of his face.

“We’re gonna come back for you.” He promised.

The guard nodded as you both ran to the lever, the both of you grunting as you pushed it. The front gate began to slowly close, but not fast enough. A small group of the crawlers got in, instantly going after the survivors.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin growled.

You both ran out and he turned back to you,

“Defend the injured guards, Ive got this!” He instructed.

You nodded and stood your ground, firing as some of them ran towards you. Hyunjin leaped down from the top and ran over to where the survivors were shooting wildly, his own gunfire hitting the walkers. The intruders who had gotten stuck when the inner gates closed were either dead or had been bitten, and you felt relief when all gunfire stopped. You bent down to the guards and gave them a reassuring smile.

“I’ll go get help to bring you guys down.” You said.

The nodded as you ran down the top of the gates, your eyes searching for everyone. Yuna and the elders were underground with the children, you knew. You saw Jisung and Felix with Chan, blood leaking down from Jisung’s cheek, which had been skimmed by a bullet. Minho was helping Woojin lift Jeongin up and away to get the bullet out. Changbin and Seungmin were helping other survivors. They all had the same look on their faces, shock.

You looked up and saw Hyunjin looking around, his eyes softening when he saw all of the others, and you. You were just about to say something when you heard a snarl, and before you could turn, a piercing pain shot through your neck. Teeth pierced your skin, blood rushing down the side of your neck.

“Y/N!”

BANG.

#stray kids #straykids #kpop #straykidznet #kpop imagines #hwang hyunjin zombie au #skz hwang hyunjin #stray kids hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin

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