#there's this air of 'he comes back after all this time for THIS?'
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beloveds-embrace · 14 hours ago
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Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.
So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.
When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.
“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”
Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.
“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”
His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-
“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.
“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“
Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-
You want your damn drink back.
For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.
They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.
Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.
By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.
Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.
Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.
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corroded-hellfire · 1 day ago
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More Munson Than Expected - Eddie Munson x Reader
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An As You Wish story
Written with my beloved @munson-blurbs 💜
Summary: The ultrasound for your second pregnancy brings a new wave of excitement to the Munson household.
Note: The excitement I have to let this secret out of the bag after cooking it up for over a year is real. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: pregnant!reader
Words: 4.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Eddie, you didn’t have to come with me,” you remind him again as he pulls up a chair next to the examination table he just helped you get situated on.
Your husband gives you a disapproving look as he makes himself comfortable in the seat. He shakes his head as he reaches out and takes one of your hands in his.
“Did you really think I was going to miss this?” he asks. “No way. I was there for Eliza’s first ultrasound, I’m going to be there for this one’s too.”
“What about the boys?”
Eddie sighs. “I was there for Ryan’s. But I wasn’t aware of when Luke’s was, so I missed it. Don’t tell him.”
“I won’t,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “He would know it wasn’t your fault, though.”
“You keep your mouth shut too, hmm?” Eddie leans over and presses a kiss to your emerging bump. 
“I don’t know if he or she developed a mouth yet,” you say, the sanitary paper crinkling beneath you as you try to get comfortable. 
“Not gonna find out if you’re a he or she,” Eddie continues talking to his developing child. He reaches out and rubs a hand over your stomach. “Wanna see you, though. And make sure you’re healthy.”
The door to the examination room swings open, bringing with it the distinct smell of antiseptic. The ultrasound technician walks in and closes the door behind her.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” she greets with a smile. “My name is Tara and I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. The doctor tells me that you don’t want to know the sex. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” you respond with a nod. “We want this one to be a surprise.”
“That is no problem. Let me just set up here and we’ll get started.”
While she gets to work, Eddie helps you as you attempt to tug your shirt up enough to avoid the cold and sticky goo that will inevitably be squirted on your stomach for the ultrasound. You’re able to tuck it into the underwire of your bra just to be sure that it won’t slide back down and get all messy. 
One of the sleeves of Eddie’s jumpsuit falls down and he shoves it back up past his elbow. You take in the navy material, your eye tracing over his name sewn on in red thread over his heart. 
“What time are they expecting you back at work?” you ask him.
He shrugs. “They know where I’m at. They know it might be a little while.” 
“Alright, are we ready?” Tara asks.
“Yep.” You offer your hand to Eddie again and he laces his ringed fingers with yours. 
Tara picks up the bottle of the dreaded goo and squirts a healthy amount on your abdomen. The chill against your skin sends a shiver throughout your body. At least the wand should warm it up as the tech spreads the substance around to get the best view of the baby. 
To you and your husband it feels like you’re just looking at a black screen with wavy white lines on it. Somehow, everything seems to make sense to Tara as she positions the wand on different parts of your stomach. 
“Oh,” she says at one point, stilling the instrument against your skin. “Here we go.”
A soft but steady thump thump thump fills the air of examination room 5. Tears immediately well up in your eyes. You look at Eddie to see him grinning from ear to ear. 
With the slightest movement of the wand sliding against the goo, you hear thump thump thump thump thump thump.
“Oh wow,” you say through a sniffle. “You can hear it even better now.”
“Sounds strong,” Eddie adds. 
“Actually…” Tara trails off.
“What?” Eddie asks. You feel his hand tighten in your grip. “It’s…not strong?”
“Oh, no, no, it’s very strong. It sounds perfect to me. But I want you to listen.” There are a few moments of silence as the three of you listen to the heartbeat. 
“It sounds fast,” you say.
“It does,” Tara agrees. “But if you listen, you can hear some of the beats overlapping one another.”
She leans in towards the screen and moves the wand again, just slightly. A smile grows on her face as she spots something in the mess of gray shapes on the machine. “Hear it?” she asks.
“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie says. “What does that mean?”
“Well, if you look here,” she replies, pointing towards what looks like a small blob, “that’s your baby.”
Pure glee radiates throughout your entire being. It’s your first glimpse at your and Eddie’s new baby. Another life that the two of you created together. You share a quick loving look with your husband before you both become engrossed in the image on the screen again.
“And here…” Tara says, sliding her finger slightly to the right, “is your other baby.”
The room goes silent save for the sound of the heartbeat. Or rather, heartbeats. Though your ears heard the words, your brain is still processing what they mean. It’s clearly the same with Eddie, as he stares at Tara just like you are.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie finally says. He chuckles and licks over his lips. “Did you say, ‘other baby’?”
“I did, indeed.” Tara taps a few keys on the machine, and it looks like it takes a screenshot. “There are two babies here. Two distinct heartbeats and two little nuggets showing off to the camera.”
“Twins.” The word comes out of you as a whispered breath. “We’re having twins.”
“Not just Baby Munson #4,” Eddie adds in a voice as awed as yours. “Baby Munson #5, too.”
“And they both appear to be developing well,” Tara says. 
Eddie laughs. “No. No, we, uh, we’re not having twins.” He looks down at you, then back at Tara. “We decided we’re just having one more. I’m already forty-one, so just the one newborn is already pushing it.”
Tara grins, clearly used to this kind of reaction. “Well, you’d better rest up. Because you’ll be a father to two new little ones in a few months.”
Eddie grabs your hand, still stunned by the news. You can’t say you’re faring much better, although it does explain why this pregnancy has been so much more intense than when you were expecting Eliza. Part of you feels relieved that it wasn’t all in your head. But another part…
“Twins.” The word leaves your lips in an exhale. “We’re…babe, we’re gonna have five kids. We’re gonna be a family of seven.”
A clammy hand squeezes yours, and you glance up to see Eddie visibly trembling. “How am I gonna raise five kids?” He murmurs. “That’s one more than Harrington, and that dude was pretty much born to be a dad.”
Tara’s brows furrow as she cleans off your belly. “I’ll, um, leave you two to discuss.” She starts for the door, then turns around. “Take all the time you need.”
As soon as the door clicks shut, Eddie starts pacing around the tiny exam room. “Okay, okay. We’re having two babies. At the same time.”
“Yes, that’s generally what happens with twins.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “I could do without your sarcasm right now, Sweetheart. I just found out that I’m about to out-kid Steve Harrington.”
“Out-kid?” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a laugh. 
Eddie doesn’t pick up on your joking tone. “Yes! He has four, and I’ll have five. Five!” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I was barely keeping two alive before you came along, and now I’m gonna be responsible for five?!”
“First of all,” you say, pushing yourself up, “you were an amazing dad before we got together. Even before I started watching the boys, when you were basically doing it on your own. Give yourself some credit. Second, Ryan will be going to college soon enough, so we’ll only have four kids in the house.”
Your attempt at consoling your husband falls flat. “Oh my god, I’m gonna have infants while my oldest is gonna be in college! I’m supposed to be slowing down, not re-babyproofing the house!” He buries his head in his hands. “What were we thinking? And why do you always have to look so hot? I wouldn’t be tempted to jump your bones all the time if you weren’t so goddamn sexy.”
You sigh. “I mean, you’re the one who’s always telling me you want to ‘pump me full of your babies.’ Guess now you really did it.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie runs his hands down his face and takes a deep breath. He stands in the same spot, staring at you for a few silent moments before a smile begins to crack through his fog. “Holy shit.”
“Calming down now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Or realizing I’m the one who has to push two of them out of my body?”
Eddie ambles over to you on the examining table and rests his forehead against yours. His shoulders have gone down to their usual height again, no longer bunched up around his ears with tension. 
“Okay, I had my mini freak out,” he says softly, reaching up to tug the hem of your shirt down back over your bump. “You may have yours.”
With a low chuckle, you reach up and cup your husband’s face in your hands. 
“I still don’t think it’s hit me yet,” you admit. “Or maybe trying to logic-out your fear helped me with my own, too. I mean, you said something about being too old to re-babyproof the house? Sweetheart, we would have had to do that with one baby anyway.”
“Common sense left me there for a little bit, I’ll admit.”
“And I’ve got one more bone to pick with you,” you say, leaving one hand on his face and using the other to poke him in the chest. 
“What’s that?”
“You said Steve was pretty much born to be a dad. Eddie, out of all the people I’ve ever met in my life, you are definitely the one who was always meant to be a dad.” You lower your hand to your bump. “Because it doesn’t matter if there were one, two, three, or even eight babies in here. You’d still love them all unconditionally and try your hardest to give the world to them.”
“I love our babies,” Eddie replies softly. His hand moves to rest on top of yours on your bump. “I love our twins.”
“Hey, we’ve got some extra resources this time around, too,” you point out. “Ryan drives now. We can recruit him for diaper or formula runs. And he can take Luke and Eliza places if we’re not able to. Luke is old enough now not to be intimidated by being around newborns. He’ll definitely be more hands-on than he was with Eliza. And speaking of the little firecracker…we already know she’s going to be like a mother hen to them. See? Recruiting the kids to help with the kids. And that doesn’t even mention Wayne and all of our friends. At least ninety percent of them owe us from watching their kids at one point or another.” 
“My wife is so smart,” Eddie praises with a small smile. 
“She is,” you reply coyly. “Do you think you could help me off this table, though? Makes sense why it’s been harder for me to get up from things lately—two against one here.”
Eddie gently takes your arms and leads you to a comfortable seated position before helping you hop down from the high table. 
The two of you walk hand-in-hand out of the doctor’s office and across the parking lot to your car. The sun seems warmer and brighter than when you went in. There’s not a cloud in the sky—were there any before? Birds call to one another from the trees that encircle the medical plaza, and their tune brings a smile to your face. Everything seems so light and airy around you that it almost makes you feel like you’re dissociating. But there’s Eddie’s hand in yours. The sneakers you wear knock against the concrete with every step, reverberating the vibration up your legs. You’re very much here in this moment. The magic in the air comes from knowing the amount of love you carried for the bundle of joy in your belly has just doubled. The thought of kissing two little button noses goodnight every day instead of one has you giddy. 
“Baby,” you say as Eddie opens the passenger car door for you. “We’re gonna have double the cuddles.”
“Double the drooly kisses.” The smile on your husband’s face tells you that he’s excited about the prospect. “Double new baby smell.”
You secure your seatbelt and rest both of your hands on your belly as Eddie walks around the car and slides into the driver’s seat. 
���Double the love we give and receive,” you muse softly, looking down at your protruding bump. “I wonder if I’ll get double the pain meds when I’m in labor.”
Eddie laughs as he pulls the car out of the parking space. 
“Time will tell,” he says. “Are you hungry, princess?”
“Yeah. I mean, makes sense, since I’m eating for three,” you reply. “But don’t you have to get back to work?”
“There is no way I’ll be able to focus on anything,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. “I’m taking the rest of the day.”
“Okay. Do you want to get lunch at—oh boy.”
Eddie’s eyes glance over at you before looking back on the road.
“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?” 
“No, not wrong,” you say. “Just…I-I don’t know how we’ll keep this from the kids. We didn’t think we’d have anything to report to them other than the baby being healthy since we’re not finding out the sex. But there’s absolutely no way I won’t slip up and say ‘babies’ or ‘them’ or something that will give it away. I’d rather they hear the news from us directly than catching us in a slip.”
Eddie nods in agreement. “How do you think we should tell them?”
“Umm…” You purse your lips as you start to ponder different scenarios. Both you and Eddie think in silence for a few minutes before he speaks.
“Oh, I’ve got an idea…”
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Eliza is thrilled to have both of her parents picking her up from school. The way she goes on and on about an arts and crafts project they did in class today reminds you of when you were just the babysitter and picked Ryan and Luke up from school. Luke always had something interesting to babble on about—much to your amusement. 
Your second oldest is already at home when you walk in the front door holding Eliza’s hand and Eddie trails in behind with a few bags from the store. Usually, Ryan drives both himself and Luke home from school every day, but now Ryan takes SAT Prep classes once a week after school, forcing Luke to take the bus home. Which you’d think was one of the trials of Hercules with how often Luke shares his disdain for the form of transportation. 
“Whatcha got, Pops?” Luke asks from the couch. His hand is buried in a bag of white cheddar popcorn and an episode of Supernatural is on the television. 
“You’ll see,” Eddie tells him, taking the bags straight to your room. Best to keep them out of the way of the two nosiest Munson children. Although, you wonder to yourself if that will change with the new additions. 
Eliza spies the snack her brother has and quickly sheds her Little Mermaid backpack and pink Mary Jane shoes to climb up on the couch next to him. She sticks an arm in the popcorn bag and brings out as big a handful as her little fist would allow her. 
“There’s food in the bags,” Eliza says to Luke through the kernels stuffing her cheeks.
“Huh?” Luke clearly doesn’t speak four-year-old-with-a-full-mouth.
“The bags Daddy has,” Eliza says once she’s swallowed. She wipes her white cheddar covered fingertips on her white tights. “There’s food in them. I smelled it in the car.” 
“Good job, Watson,” he tells her.
“Uh, who?” Eliza gives her older brother a look that clearly relays she thinks he’s crazy. It doesn’t stop her from taking another handful of popcorn, though. 
“Watson. Sherlock Holmes’ assistant. They’re detectives, Lize.”
“Oh,” is all she says before shoving more popcorn into her mouth. 
You putter around, cleaning up the kitchen and tidying the living room to keep yourself from spilling the beans too early. It’s important to wait until Ryan gets home later. You just know time is going to crawl by at a snail’s pace for the next hour and a half.
When your oldest son finally arrives home, you usher everyone around the kitchen table for a family meeting. 
“Am I in trouble?” Luke huffs. “Because if I am, I’d like to plead not guilty.”
Eddie raises his brows. “Not sure why you’d be in trouble, but I’m sure we’ll find out.” He clears his throat, placing a loving hand on your bump. “No, this family meeting is to tell you guys some exciting news we got at the ultrasound today.”
He reaches over and plucks a grease-soaked Burger King bag from the counter. “Ry, you get the first clue.”
Ryan practically tears open the bag, the hungry teenager ready to devour the Double Whopper without even unwrapping it. 
“Is the baby a hamburger?” Ryan asks mid-bite. He pulls out the fries you got along with it. “Or is it small? Is the clue ‘small fry?’”
You shake your head. “Nope. Nice try, though.” 
Luke’s clue is next, though he’s too busy trying to get his brother to share his food to really pay attention. When Ryan finally relents and tosses a fry his way, Luke looks down at the Gameboy game box in front of him. 
“A Looney Tunes double pack?” He wrinkles his nose. “Are you naming the baby Tweety Bird?”
Eliza sticks out her little tongue in disgust. “That’s a horrible name for a baby!”
“Maybe it looks like Elmer Fudd, like Eliza did when she was born,” Ryan chimes in, licking ketchup off of his thumb. 
“Who?” Your daughter glances between the boys, unaware of the joke being made at her expense.
Luke doesn’t hesitate to fill her in. “The weird guy who hunts Bugs Bunny. The one who always goes, ‘ooh, I hate that wabbit!’”
Eliza shoots him a glare that’s equal parts adorable and terrifying. Luckily, she’s easily distracted by her clue. 
“For Eliza,” you say as you tug the crinkling Target bag off of the biggest hint of all. Eddie already made sure to open the box and cut any wires attached so your daughter can get right at the twin Baby Alive dolls. 
The four-year-old gasps. “Babies!” She holds her arms out as you deliver the box to her.
Little fingers grab onto the first doll, and she gently places it on the table in front to her before removing the second doll. The rest of the family watches in amusement as Eliza covers the baby on the table with a blanket, and cradles the other one in her arms, holding its bottle to its mouth. 
“So,” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands together, “what do these gifts have in common?”
The three of them begin to think. At least, you’re pretty sure Eliza is thinking about it. She’s gazing down at the doll in her arms with the most heartwarming compassion. 
“There’s two burger patties, two games, two dolls…” Luke muses.
“Wait,” Ryan says, his head perking up as an idea occurs to him. “Is it a girl? Like, two X chromosomes?”
Your husband simply stares at your oldest son for a moment before responding.
“In what world would I be smart enough to come up with that?” he asks. 
Luke nods his head in your direction. “Ma is, though. But I think it’s a boy because there’s two of us boys already.”
“Then the hint would have to do with three, genius,” Ryan scoffs. 
The younger brother contorts his face and mocks his brother’s words in a high-pitched voice.
“Maybe Mama has two babies in her belly.” Your daughter’s words are spoken with the most casual tone, the majority of her attention on the plastic doll she’s gently rocking to sleep in her arms. 
The boys both laugh, Ryan rolling his eyes at what he considers a silly idea from a little girl. The Munson brothers turn to you and Eddie, expecting you to be joining in on the laughter, but all they find are your excited and hopeful faces. The chuckles trail off as the boys pause and consider what those faces mean. 
“Wait, you don’t mean…” Ryan starts.
“Oh my GOD!” Luke shouts, banging his hands down on the table in front of him. It rattles the doll Eliza isn’t holding, and she gives her big brother a glare over the disturbance. 
“No way!” Ryan stands up, excitement nearly paralyzing him. He doesn’t know what to do except smile as he holds his arms out in front of him awkwardly. “It’s really…twins?!”
“It’s twins!” you confirm. You make an attempt to stand as well, but the two babies inside of you are keeping your center of gravity low enough to make you give up. 
“Two babies!” Luke hoots. “This is insane!”
Eddie chuckles, his heart at once light as air and completely full at seeing the excitement of his boys. 
“Do you have a picture?” Luke asks.
“The sonogram,” Ryan adds.
“Yeah! Can we see it? Let us see the picture!”
“Do you even know what you’ll be looking at?” Ryan asks as he sits back down next to his brother.
Luke shrugs. “They’ll show us.”
“Okay, okay, here it is,” you say, handing over the image that’s been sitting in your back pocket. “That little spot right there is one baby, and that one right there is the other baby.”
Their stunned faces make you giggle softly as you lean back. 
“Oh my God,” Ryan says. “I can’t believe it’s twins.”
“Holy sh—crap, we’re going to have two new siblings.”
“We’re going to need a bigger house,” Ryan says, looking around the room everyone is seated in.
“Wow, there’s going to be a lot of people living here,” Luke says. “Dad, were you going for twins?”
“That’s not how it works, doofus,” Ryan says as Eddie shakes his head in amusement. 
Luke scoffs. “Explain it to me then, Mr. SAT.”
Eliza heaves a deep sigh for someone with such a tiny body and small lungs. She sets the baby doll in her arms down on the table next to its sleeping sibling. 
“You’re so loud!” she complains. 
“Lize, it’s twin babies!” Luke tells her, gently shaking her frame back and forth. 
“I know, I know, you keep saying it over and over!”
“Aren’t you excited?” Ryan asks her. 
Your daughter shrugs her shoulders once before picking her doll back up and cradling it in the crook of her arm.
“Sure.” 
Both boys look to you and Eddie at her lackluster reaction. You give a gentle shake of your head.
“Don’t worry,” you tell them. “It’ll click at some point.” 
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“Oh, what a day,” you sigh as you slip under the blankets to lay down next to your husband. Eddie lifts his arm, and you immediately cuddle up to his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Your bump nudges his side, and you rub one hand over the soft material of your worn t-shirt. “Makes sense why my bump is more pronounced earlier than it was with Eliza.”
Eddie wraps one arm around your shoulders and brings the other one down to place his hand on top of your own. 
“Can't believe there are four of us in this bed,” he says with a light chuckle.
“Daddyyyyy! Mamaaaaaa!”
A four-year-old with wild curls runs into your room and leaps onto the bed, landing at your and Eddie’s feet.
“Make that five of us,” Eddie says. 
“You’re supposed to be asleep, Little Miss,” you tell Eliza.
She pushes herself onto her hands and knees in her purple piggy pajamas and quickly crawls up the infinitesimal space between you and her father. 
“Careful, careful,” Eddie cautions the closer she gets to your belly.
Eliza halts her ascent and leans back on her heels. Her chocolate brown eyes are as wild as her bedhead is.
“I’m gonna be a big sister to two babies?!” 
Across the hall, a chuckle reverberates in Ryan’s chest as he turns to lay on his side in bed.
“There it is.”
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luciluck2046 · 17 hours ago
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Damn my username lore is long 💀💀💀💀
So I'll start in chronological order.
I made my first EVER account on ANYTHING on... Roblox. I used to be a big time Warrior Cats fan so uhh... My Roblox username was and still is Squirrel_flight2046. The name Squirrel_flight was taken so I just smashed some numbers. I BETTER NOT SEE FRIEND REQUESTS I DON'T PLAY ROBLOX MUCH ANYMORE. But yeah, somehow 2046 became a big number since it's very fun actually? I mean my Minecraft username has 2046 at the end too(A_girl2046). Anyway I just like that number for numerous reasons all tied to my neurodivergent patern loving little brain.
Then the name LuciLuck? Damn that's even longer than the number lore.
So it all started when I got into gacha 2-3 years ago(every artist I know had a gacha phase - also gacha is the reason I'm an artist now so shut up) and I wanted to make animations and I needed a good name.
Back then, I had my favorite name be Rose. Does it make any sense? No, I just liked pink. I was in my all pink phase.
And what comes after the all pink phase? EMO PHASE. So yeah I uhhh chose Lucia as my fav name because... Uhhh...
Lucifer
Lucia
They both started the same way. And I wanted to be an angsty rebel emo punk teen. Like damn, couldn't relate more to Uzi and I didn't even know about Murder Drones. Anyway, my yt username was @lucia(some numbers) and I don't have any regrets.
Then I actually installed Subway Surfers and uhh, we all know of Lucy.
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And damn did I only play with her goth outfit.
But yeah, changed the name to Lucy.
Then I went to Luci for some reason. I can't remember why.
And then... I have actually made a good video and I wanted to post it. I wanted a watermark cuz my fav youtuber had one lol, so I wanted to have a cool NAME and WATERMARK. (Honestly that one looked good for a 12 y/o with a shitty convenience store ahh pen and ibis paint x. I don't have any of my old digital art tho TwT) That YouTuber's name was and I think it still is @NerdyEddy. So I wanted something that sounded cool, like his username. So uhh... Luci and Luck only end in diff letters. But what did I see? The real LuciLuck was taken? I put my fav number at the end! LuciLuck2046! Yes. My username is based of cringy gacha bl videos and my emo punk angsty teen brain.
Is it a cool username? YES.
Also btw don't watch NerdyEddy if you don't like bl, mpreg or stuff like that since his account was filled with it. I hope he goes strong with Grey and Gray's kids tho :3 (damn I gotta see what he has been up to for the past year, I've been clean of gacha addiction for quite a while)
Anyway you all know I also went by @artsycrow46 for a while. I just wanted a silly crow name lol. But it ended in a pen crow that just appeared out of thin air that now helps me with writing fics. Meet: @artsycrow2046. Too much of an asshole.
How did you get your guy's usernames? I'll start
I named my account after Muxus, Goblin Grandee, my favorite MTG card :)
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moonchild9350 · 2 days ago
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Firsts
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Summary: Hyunjin reminisces on all of your 'firsts' together as a couple.
Pairing: nonidol!Hyunjin x fab!reader
Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: time jumps, kissing, hand job, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of birth control, creampie, Hyunjin is in love lol
Notes: just wanted to write another fic from Hyunjin's pov! this was supposed to be short but here we are lol
If you enjoyed please consider a comment, reblog, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)
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Firsts are scary. At least that is what Hyunjin thought wholeheartedly, that is until he met you. You with your cheery demeanor, your kind heart and lust for life. He loves your beauty, your body, your everything, but he also loves who you are on the inside.
Over the last year you’ve both shared many firsts with each other, each time they occur giving him butterflies deep within as if it’s the first time you’ve met.
— —
Hyunjin was nervous for your first date, the jitters getting the best of him as he checked his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. His heart was pounding within his chest, so hard he thought it was going to burst.
He picked out flowers for you earlier in the day, unsure of what you’d like. Maybe the roses? But also what about the carnations? He spent so long staring at the two options that the clerk came by to make sure he was okay asking if he needed any help.
In the end he chose the roses, sticking to a safe choice. He carefully cared for them home, making sure not to crush the delicate petals, their floral scent traveling to his nose causing him to smile. He kept them in water until it was time to pick you up, the stems dripping all over the floor and ultimately his pants staining them.
Hyunjin felt embarrassed at the stain, convinced you would slam the door in his face, tsking that he was a mess. However, you did the exact opposite, your squeal of delight reaching his ears, which turned a bright red in response. You whisked the flowers from his hands, setting them in a vase of water before following him outside.
He took you to dinner, at a cute little restaurant in town that you had been gushing about. He found it easy to chat with you, the conversation flowing nonstop. He made sure to listen to all of your likes and dislikes, wanting to learn more about you which was easy to do since it was you.
You both enjoyed your meal, staying for the cheesecake and that extra glass of wine, your hearts wildly beating at the prospect of other dates to come.
But all good things must come to an end, the night wrapping up way too soon. Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment in the warm night air, the city slowing down as people hurried home. He’d hope to see you again as he wanted to shower you with affection and treat you the way you deserve.
Hyunjin looked forward to more firsts with you, the concept not as scary as it seemed before
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Not long after your first date, he took you to movie , as you had a love for films just like him. It was an older film, repurposed for the modern theater, one you both enjoyed and discussed many times over a late night chat.
The theater in town was old, the building itself a time capsule of when it was built in the early beginnings of the sleepy town.
You both sat in the red chairs, looking at each other as you blushed and giggled, each of you a nervous wreck. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and focused on the screen, watching the ads that were playing.
Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began. He couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye, trying to catch a glimpse of you as you focused straight ahead. His heart was beating, his thigh bouncing up and down as he tried to pay attention to the film.
If he thought he was nervous then nothing could have prepared him for how nervous he would be watching you creep your hand to rest on the armrest separating you two.
Your hand rested there delicately, your perfectly manicured nails on display. His palms were clammy, as beads of sweat prickled at his forehead. He tried to subtly wipe his hands off on his pants, hoping you wouldn’t see.
Suddenly, you looked his way, his head turning to meet your eyes. You gave him a smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest at your beauty. He looked at your hand, now facing palm up and back to your eyes. You gave him another reassuring smile before wiggling your fingers teasingly.
Before he could overthink his actions, he quickly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before resting his palm on top of yours. You giggled quietly before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze once settled.
Hyunjin was over the moon, a smile gracing his face as he turned to face the screen again. There was incessant pounding of his heart in his chest, as he held your hand in his, not believing that this was happening.
He found he couldn’t focus on the film, his thoughts on how your tiny hand fit in his perfectly, almost like two puzzle pieces finding their home together. He thought of how he could feel your pulse, the thump thump radiating off his skin. If he could feel your heart beat, could you feel his and how it ached for you?
His mind was a flurry of thoughts as he barely paid attention to the film, not even noticing it was over until the very end when you sweetly said his name, the sound sweet like honey to his ears.
He blushed, feeling embarrassed at his mishap.
“Ready then?” He asked you, squeezing your hand in his.
“Mmhmm I am,” you said, your eyes locked on him.
Hyunjin chatted with you about the film as you both walked down the sidewalk, your chatter warming his heart, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The street lamps set a yellow glow, illuminating the way as you passed others on their way to a destination only they know.
Stopping at a street corner, he takes a deep breath, his eyes gazing at you through his periphery. You stand there with your hands at your side, your gaze straight ahead.
Hyunjin desperately wants to touch you, feel your warm hand in his once more. He wants to feel how your fingers lightly brush against his as they bend and fold to rest upon his.
Would you pull your hand away if he reached out to grab ahold of it?
He thinks and thinks, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he ponders at what he should do. You’ve held hands in the theater, but it was dark inside and not as…as public. He’s not sure why he’s this nervous. It’s you, the love of his life, the sweet girl who bumped into him at the cafe down the street from your house. And of course you just met, but he feels as if he’s known you his whole life.
Taking a breath, he builds the courage to reach down and grab your hand, right as the signal to walk changes from red to white. He looks at you, his eyebrows raised as you stare up at him in shock, your cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of red.
“I’m…I’m sorry…”
Hyunjin was cut off by your hand squeezing his.
“Don’t be sorry, I like this Hyun,” you responded, your face spreading into a smile.
Hyunjin nodded his head and smiled back, his dimple popping up on his cheek. He shook his head in resolve and started walking with you by his side. He couldn’t believe something as simple as holding your hand could make him feel this way, as if he had just won the lottery and was the luckiest man alive. He’d make sure to remember this moment for the rest of his life that’s for sure
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Your relationship progressed, both of you comfortably falling into each other’s routines, your two paths merging as if it was always meant to be.
You both opted for an at home date, agreeing to cook dinner together. Hyunjin never cooked before he met you, opting to fill his stomach with take out from the local restaurants. When you found out his diet was not the best, you flipped, shrieking how he needed proper nutrients and that you would take care of his meals.
That was the start of you cooking and bringing his meals to his home, making sure he ate properly each day. He blushed as you fussed over the containers, unloading them one by one from your bag. You explained when to eat what and what each item was, as you scurried across his kitchen.
Eventually, he suggested that you come over and show him how to cook basic meals, so that way you didn’t have to make extra portions.
This suggestion led to both of you elbow deep in dough, as you showed him how to make bread, your arms flexing as you carefully kneaded the dough. He watched in awe as you worked, little droplets of sweat dripping down the side of your face.
Hyunjin didn’t realize he was staring until you asked him a question as you used the back of your arm to wipe the sweat off your face.
“Hyun!” You said, giggling as he shook his head to break out of his reverie.
“What did you ask?” Hyunjin replied sheepishly, his hands reaching for anything in his reach.
You chuckled and bumped against his arm, “I asked if you had any questions so far?”
Hyunjin had many questions as he wasn’t paying attention to your instructions, but he didn’t want to dishearten you so he said no and continued to knead the dough that was in front of him.
You both worked in comfortable silence with soft music playing in the background. Hyunjin watched as you reached into the bag of flower, grasping a finger full. You were about to throw it on the counter so the dough wouldn’t stick, but at the last second you flicked your wrist towards him, the flour flying through the air and landing on his face.
Hyunjin let out a shriek, your cackles filling the kitchen as you doubled over clutching your stomach. Hyunjin chuckled, reached into the flour bag and grabbed a handful, launching it you.
An all out flour war began, both of you leaping and dodging each other, flour flying everywhere, the powder floating gently through the air. Your clothes were splattered with the white substance, as you pelted each other. Hyunjin’s deep laughter mixed your tinkling sound, the cacophony resonating throughout the little kitchen.
Hyunjin watched as you grabbed another hand full of flour, but just as you were about to launch it at him, you slipped on the powder littering the floor, your arms flailing forwards. You shrieked and drop towards the floor, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything you could.
He quickly reached out his hands and caught you, cradling you gently within his ams. You both were breathing heavy, your chests rapidly rising and falling, little puffs of air coming from your lips as you both stood there in silence.
Hyunjin helped you stand back up, his hands traveling down your arms. He gazed down at you, his eyes catching yours. You looked beautiful, your cheeks flushed with specks of flour, wisps of your hair falling into your face.
Hyunjin’s breath caught as his gaze drifted to your lips, his mind wandering how they would feel on his. It’s not the first time he’s thought this, the idea floating around his head late at night as he laid in bed, his hand drifting to his cock that seems to always be hard during the night hours as he thinks of you.
Your eyes widen, your pupils dilating as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Time seemed to stand still as Hyunjin took a breath and gently cupped your chin, gently tipping your head up.
Leaning down, he slowly closed the gap between you two until he could feel your breath on him. There was a pause as you both stood together, his hand on your chin, his forehead against yours. Closing the final distance, your lips collided. Your lips were soft on his as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, your torso until they reached your waist.
Hyunjin could hear fireworks going off within his head and he smiled at the cliche thought, as he continued to move his lips against yours. He shivered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he continued to kiss you gently but passionately.
Just when he thought he’d run out of oxygen, you pulled away partially, a string of spit connecting your two lips, as you fought to catch your breath. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours and let out a chuckle as you smiled, your fingers softly carding through his hair.
You both stood there gazing at each other, your lips pressing together again and again in breathy exchange. The night went on, the dough forgotten as you embraced each other, listening to the sound of your hearts beating and the sound of the soft notes of a piano flowing throughout the room.
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“Let’s watch a movie baby,” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, your head nuzzling into his chest.
You both were in your bed, spending a lazy day together. Hyunjin loved being in your room, being surrounded by your scent, with the presence of your interests scattered throughout the room. He pulled you closer, chuckling as you squeaked at the sudden movement.
Your legs were wrapped around his, your hand on his belly as he lightly brushed his fingertips down your spine. Hyunjin has dreamed of a moment like this for weeks, wanting you within his arms, the promise of more lingering in the air.
And that’s exactly how the night went. He remembers lowering you on your back, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your big brown eyes staring up at him.
He pressed wet kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his cock swelling at the sound of your sweet moans as he worshipped your body. He found himself grinding into you, his cock meeting your core with each pass, strangled moans leaving his lips.
Hyunjin held his breath as you rid yourself of your shirt, tossing it away before settling back onto the pillow. He swallowed as you fondled your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples looking at him with a hooded gaze.
“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips parted as you watched his every move.
He grasped your breasts, cupping the flesh as his fingers brushed and tugged against your nipples. He listened to your moans, his eyes widening as you arched into his touch, your hands reaching out to meet his. Hyunjin reveled in how they felt perfect within the palm of his hand, soft and plushy, his mind reeling at the feel of them.
He groaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, your back arching into him as he licked and sucked, his other hand massaging your other breast. He felt euphoric, waves of pleasure traveling through his body as he pleasured you.
Releasing your nipple with a pop, he hurriedly rid himself of his boxers, his cock slapping against his belly at the force and pre cum oozing from his tip. He took in your gaze, as you licked your lips at the sight of his member, your hands reaching out to encircle his length.
He whimpered as you slid your hand against his shaft, your palm coming up to circle the head over and over. His mouth was wide open as he shuddered in pleasure, his hips slightly thrusting up into your hand. You stroked him harder, faster, your eyes trained on him, a smirk forming on your face as you watched him fall apart above you.
“Can’t…stop love,” Hyunjin breathed, his hand reaching out to gently remove yours from his cock. “Need to be in you. Will you let me have you?” He asked with hope in your eyes.
He groaned out as you parted your legs more, displaying your wet pussy to him.
“Of course baby,” you cooed as you reached down to part your folds so your leaking entrance was on display.
Hyunjin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it at your hole. He was about to push in when he stopped, hesitating to proceed.
You looked up at him curiously as you asked, “why’d you stop?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, his eyes roaming up your body until they landed on your brown orbs.
“I um…I don’t have a condom,” he replied, his eyes cast downward at the implications of not being able to have you.
However, he perked up when you responded, a wide smile on your face.
“I’m on birth control, so we don’t need one if you don’t mind.”
He felt his heart flutter, his cock twitching at the thought of not only having you for the first time but also bare. He gripped his cock harder and brushed his tip through your folds, the head catching on your clit before trailing back down to your entrance.
He pushed within you, his eyes trained on your pussy as your warm walls engulfed him like a hug. He faltered slightly, letting out a breath as the pleasure was too overwhelming. You were so wet, the slide easy as he pushed further within you.
He groaned as you whimpered, spreading your legs wider so you could watch where you two were connected. Hyunjin began thrusting his hips into you, his breath stuttering as your pussy clenched around him, holding him in.
He wasn’t going to last long, the feeling of you, the smell of you, even the sound of you being too overwhelming. He quickly attached his lips to yours as he brought his hand to your clit, sloppily circling the bud to get you to your high.
He could feel you shivering beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as he pounded into you. His face was buried in your neck, your lips at his ear whispering the most dirty things, causing him to groan.
You continuously clenched around him, your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him tight, your legs wrapping around his thighs pulling him deeper within you.
You whined his name, whimpering “don’t stop” over and over.
You were driving him insane.
He was moments away from claiming you, his cock swelling at the thought of getting to fill you with his seed. His hips stuttered as his cock twitched within your walls, his mind a mess as he couldn’t think straight.
You lifted his head and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the action tipping him over the edge, reaching that euphoria he has only experienced within the confines of his room or in his dreams.
It was better than he could imagine, causing him to whimper as his cum filled you within. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you gasped as you reached your high, the rhythmic contraction of your walls milking him dry.
Hyunjin swallowed your moans, his body caging yours as he lazily rocked into you, riding out both of your highs.
He let out a shaky breath before pulling back, taking in your sweaty body beneath his, the clear sheen coating every inch of your skin. He withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy, your walls contracting at the emptiness and pushing out the white liquid.
“I love you,” you whispered as you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your face.
Hyunjin felt his heart swell at the confession, his love for you expanding by the second.
You loved him.
He mouthed the words before running a hand through his hair.
You loved him.
Looking down at you lovingly, he pushed your hair back from your face, his eyes taking in the afterglow. He licked his lips and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you close.
“I love you.” He repeated, meaning every word as it left his mouth.
— —
Yeah firsts are scary. Hyunjin has never liked them. However, he doesn’t mind sharing firsts with you, the love of his life.
He remembers that as you descend the steps, dressed in a beautiful little black dress, your hair carefully fixed and makeup done to perfection.
Here Hyunjin is celebrating yet another first with you, your first anniversary, and he could not be happier and more satisfied.
You are his first but also his last.
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Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground
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3rdgymbros · 16 hours ago
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━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬).
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— pairing; malleus draconia x ramshackle! reader
— summary; you make out with malleus, cue the walk of shame back to his dorm
— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.
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❋ After an intense make out session in the dimly lit Ramshackle Lounge, the Prince of Briar Valley comes up for air with a smudged face and an oddly dazed look. His normally perfect appearance is ruffled and untidy, and you're feeling a tiny sense of pride at how you've managed to make him come undone like this.
❋ His eyeliner is definitely smeared, making him look a bit more like a mischievous fae from the ancient stories. If only Lilia could see him now, he thinks, mildly mortified but also not minding it. The faint remains of your lipstick stain his mouth, and it’s more than obvious what he’s been doing.
❋ Malleus tries to tidy up before taking his leave. But no matter how much he smooths out his jacket or adjusts his collar, the faint traces of smudged lipstick on his cheek just make him look more ruffled. From where you're snuggled up under the covers, you can’t help but giggle, and he levels a playful glare in your direction — but there’s amusement dancing in his eyes.
❋ (This amusement quickly fades once he returns back to Diasomnia, however.)
❋ Sebek’s been waiting up, pacing anxiously in the lounge as he waits for Malleus to return. His mouth falls open when he catches sight of his smudged makeup and the faint trace of your red lipstick. Gasping in horror, he quickly moves to shield Malleus, barking out orders for the curious onlookers to avert their eyes.
❋ Silver tries to keep a straight face, though the slightest twitch of his mouth betrays his amusement. He’s seen Malleus in various states, but never quite like this. “A late night, Lord Malleus?” Silver inquires innocently.
❋ That’s definitely Lilia’s influence shining through.
❋ Summoned by all the chaos, Lilia floats into the room with an exaggerated gasp. “My, my, young Malleus! I daresay someone had a good time tonight!” Malleus’ façade cracks as he pouts glares, but Lilia isn’t fazed, winking as he encourages Malleus to “visit Ramshackle more often” if it’s that enjoyable.
❋ Even after he cleans up, Diasomnia’s halls seem filled with whispers (no thanks to Sebek accidentally letting the entire dorm know about Malleus’ private matters in his well-meaning attempt to help). Malleus rarely gives anyone reason to talk, so the unexpected “walk of shame” becomes an instant legend.
❋ It’s a new experience for Malleus, but it definitely won’t be the last.
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evilgwrl · 2 days ago
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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader
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Girl Next Door (Eleven)
CW: Violence, bleeding, PIV sex, second-hand embarrassment, possessive behaviour, hickies and titty sucking
Previous Chapter
Taglist: @leahnicole1219
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Your thighs burnt as sweat cascaded down your neck, drooling down your crooked spine as you whined into the humid air. Your room was trashed, your clothes were sprawled in various places, crinkled into a nightmare as you writhed, your tits bouncing deliciously above your date’s face.
Under-worked hands found your ass, slapping the flesh in a hazed state as you looked down, watching as the man’s eyes trailed across your body in a ludicrous manner. You would blame this later on the alcohol, but for now, you were attempting to put on a show. You weren’t sure why; it didn’t feel natural.
Nothing felt natural, knowing it wasn’t with Simon.
Your pussy clenched around the cock inside you, gummy walls gliding along the hard member with a squelch as you cooed, chasing the high you would have normally felt by now. Your eyes were shut, crinkled on your face as your lips parted, wet tongue occasionally darting out to lick at them.
You found yourself growing tired and desperate for it to end as you felt the man stutter inside you, his hands coming down onto your hips as you gazed down, noting that his concentrated face was rather amusing.
“Jesus Christ, you’re tight,” Louis groaned, “You’re gonna make me cum.”
Your head threw itself back, eyes automatically rolling. However, this time, it wasn’t with pleasure and more with annoyance. Your moan was obnoxious as you rubbed at your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing against your finger before you prepared to fake your orgasm, your voice growing higher pitched by the second before you were lulling your mouth open.
“Oh God, Simon!”
Your body paused as you gasped, a hand flicking up to your mouth with embarrassment as you looked down with wide eyes. Louis had stilled now, his cock growing flaccid with disappointment as you adjusted yourself.
“Uh- Sorry, who’s Simon?”
“Oh my God, it was an accident. Louis, I’m so sorry-“
“I’m going to go,” he spat, his eyes rapid as he chased around the room for his clothes. You were humiliated as you looked down, spitting out any weak excuse you could to stop him from leaving.
“Louis, I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to do that- I really enjoyed our date!”
Your eyes were fuzzy now, glazed with unshed tears as you held back a hiccup, wrapping a silken dressing gown around your bare frame. The night sky was unkept and wild as bats swarmed over your duplex, an occasional hiss from frogs hidden beneath dying trees calling out into the slumber.
Your date was justifiably angry, his clothes on back to front as he huffed around your house for his keys. Outside, Simon stood proud. His hand stunk of tobacco, a lit cigarette slowly burning away in his hand as he scurried outside after your very loud slip-up.
The front door was nearly taken off its hinges as Louis barged it open, muttering under his breath before he looked to the side, his eyes taking in the burly man who sprawled himself across the chair on the porch, a cocky grin on his face.
“Y’ alright?” The Lieutenant remarked, his eyes burrowing any vulnerable emotions as he lapped in the sight of the dishevelled man before him. The air was thick with growing tension, any form of common sense seizing from Louis as he strolled over to Simon, his fist closed.
“You fucking prick-“
For a moment, all that could be heard was the gentle hum of passing traffic on further streets or the occasional jingle of a dying street light flickering. Your eyes were bewildered as you stepped outside, taking in the sight of the angered man’s fist colliding with your neighbour’s cheek, a grunt leaving parted lips.
Simon was quick to rise to his feet, towering over the man by a multitude as his elbow connected with his jaw, a horrific crack kissing your ears as you winced, watching him pummel the other side of his face with a hooked punch.
“Stop!” You screeched, attempting to play hero as you grabbed at Louis’ arm, trying to pull him away.
The pain didn’t hit you at first as you fell back, your body colliding with the porch floor with a huff. You weren’t even sure something had happened until you felt a rush leaving your nose, the pink silk that concealed you now stained with a growing crimson.
Simon’s face was uncanny as he watched you, his eyes consumed by his pupils as he knocked the man to the floor, quickly positioning himself above him as he pummelled his skin, tainting it with a tattoo of bruises as he choked out on his anger.
“Simon! Stop it! You’re going to kill him,” you writhed, clutching onto your swollen nose as blood trembled down your lips, the taste of metallic filtering through your buds. Louis spluttered underneath the Lieutenant as Ghost raised himself, rushing to your side as he held onto the bridge of your nose.
Louis gasped for air as he turned to the side, spattering blood onto the floor as he turmoiled in pain. His car keys were strewn onto the lawn as he turned to look at your bruising face, his own replicating yours in a more severe state. Sticky tears fell from your eyes as you watched your date limp to his sportscar, his clothes cascaded in both bodily fluids and dirt.
“I need to stop the bleeding, make sure it’s not broken,” Simon whispered, hoisting you up into his jittering frame.
Of course, you wanted to speak to Simon again; you were practically dying for it. Just not like this. Your house felt lifeless as he positioned you on your bathroom counter, the thin fabric that you wore doing nothing to shun the cold as you shivered.
The bleeding had stopped now as he removed the tissues from your nose, admiring it for any noticeable breaks.
“It’ll hurt for a bit, but it’s not broken. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” you mewled, closing your eyes as you rested your head against the mirror. You opened them for a moment, watching Simon as he took you in, monitoring the way your chest rose and fell under the sheer gown you wore. Your nipples pebbled under his gaze, prickling through the pink as he sucked in a deep breath.
“I should go, ‘m sorry for beating your date up,” he ventilated, his gaze now focused on your parted lips. Your face was flushed, your cheeks blushed with both nerves and embarrassment as you nodded gently.
“You should go.”
Your lashes fluttered delicately, dipping against your cheek as you watched the Lieutenant, your bodies speaking for you as a calloused hand placed itself against an exposed region of your thigh. Your breathing faltered at the unfamiliar spark that lingered with the simplicity of the motion.
The mirror behind you began to fog with growing tension, an animalistic shade taking Simon’s russet eyes as he focused on the way you hicked with every stroll of his thumb. Every hair on your body raised as you found yourself spreading your legs, endless heat simmering from you as loose fingers fiddled with the strings of your dressing gown.
His pupils dilated once more as his hand found your throat, pulling it to the side with a tug as dried lips suckled the needy flesh, his kiss hot with both wanton and possession. Your moan was breathy and quiet, but he heard it. That was how you were supposed to sound.
Your cunt clenched as he latched onto the crook of your neck, trailing spit down to your chest as desperate fingers toyed with your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between thickened fingers. Simon’s breath was hot as he whispered against your breasts, his teeth grazing against the nubs before he took one into the heat of his mouth, rolling his tongue around them with a suck. He was quick to present the other with the same fortune, layering your tits with growing claims and drool.
Any air that was from your lungs was knocked out as his eyes met yours, his tongue flat against your chest as he growled.
"Know I left, but 'll make it up to ya, love. Need to make ya mine, can I do that?"
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bbyseok · 13 hours ago
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thinking about your boyfriend gojo satoru who starts floating every time you kiss him on the lips, and you finally have your first make out session with him.
gojo satoru x gn!reader, suggestive
“baby, puh-leaseeeee!”
being gojo’s classmate-turned-friend-turned-partner, you’re pretty used to the sorcerer’s occasional pouting ‘n whining, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so desperate before.
you’re in the confines of his dorm room, seated on his bed, facing each other with your legs crossed and knees brushing against his.
it had been like any other lazy afternoon with each other, munching on snacks after the completion of another easy mission when your boyfriend had suddenly grabbed ahold of your hands with a single proposal,
“wanna make out?”
he swears up and down that nothing wonky will happen to his cursed technique once his lips are on yours, but you’re not too sure about that.
you toy with his slender fingers absentmindedly, “i don’t know, ‘toru..”
“sweetheart, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about us making out before?” he huffs and puffs like a kid who isn’t able to stick his hand in the cookie jar, but then again, that sounds just like satoru.
“what? no. i mean- i guess i have…” you try to brush off the fact that you’re getting kinda.. flustered. he’s just so damn insistent about this.
of course you’ve thought about kissing him more.. passionately. it’s just that you also have placed thought in how it might go—with you two up in the air.
a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not one of those smug, arrogant ones he usually offers his opponents. it’s something more along the lines mirth and affection.
“sooooooo….”
you roll your eyes. “fine.” his eyes light up and before he can cheer, you add, “but the second something goes wrong we’re stopping.”
“yeah, yeah,” he says, but it’s rushed and hurried—excited. admittedly, you are too, as he shuffles closer with a giddy grin.
his eyes are unwavering in their stare even as the corners crinkle up along with his grin, and it only serves to make you smile fondly in return.
unlike your very first kiss, gojo moves in before you—he leans forward and captures your lips with his. the two of you have never kissed for longer than a few seconds, but then he’s suddenly angling his head to deepen it and your breath is stolen.
where the hell did he learn to kiss like this?
you have no time to gather your thoughts, rather going on instinct as you feel satoru’s hand come up to cradle the side of your face, swiping his thumb over your cheek with a tenderness that makes you melt further into his touch.
gojo makes out with you like he’s been waiting for forever to do this, which might not be so far from the truth. you return his enthusiam, fingers tangling with the snowy locks at his nape.
he’s a bit sloppy with it, but you hazily think that’s a given since he’s never made out with anyone before and holy shit—you’re actually making out with him.
it’s the loud sounds of wet lips smacking against each other, all hot ‘n heavy, that make you blush and feel warm all over.
gojo hasn’t started floating yet, and you only know that because he’s leaning forward even more, crawling and invading your space until its no longer yours, and you have no choice to fall back onto the sheets.
his arms cage you in as he hovers over you now, and his lips leave yours for only a few fleeting moments before he’s kissing you fervently again.
everything is going okay (more than okay), satoru is still in control of his powers, you’re getting a lil’ breathless and—
uh oh.
gojo pulls away only by a few centimeters, lips still brushing against yours, but you can feel his panic as his eyes widen and he’s pulling even further away.
you know you said you’d stop if his powers started getting out of control but you’d be damned if this stopped now, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt and shove him back, a yelp leaving his throat when you straddle his lap.
“there,” you huff out, the edges of a smirk on your lips now that you’ve found a little solution to gojo’s floating problem. you laugh a bit breathlessly, “now you can’t float away from me.”
with his cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his sky blue eyes wide, for once satoru looks like he’s at a loss for words as he blinks up at you. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, “well damn, babe, if i had known you’d be this forward i would’ve done this a lot soo-”
you roll your eyes again with a slight grin. “shut up, ‘toru.”
satoru grins, but you make good on your words by pulling him by his shirt again to effectively shut him up with your lips.
(and, well.. let’s just say something else goes up whenever you make out with him.)
165 notes · View notes
matchaelette · 2 days ago
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gif by @yoongi-bts
when jungkook is a vessel of love, and love is as beautiful as the poets said it was
summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, the first time 'I love you' was spoken out aloud. the more earlier stages of their relationship. yearning, tenderness, fluff, it's all sickeningly full of love.
genre: fluff
warnings: none.
word count: 3.4k
notes: life updates. one: i'm back. obviously. two: jung hoseok is back and ksj 1 is coming (!!!) three: I am officially a uni student and majoring in civil engineering. classes start from the first week of december. four: I have decided to officially name this drabble series *drumrolls* the hopeless romantic series. so, without further ado, welcome back, our hopeless romantic couple!
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you’re in love with jungkook.
no, you’re not allowed to say that.
fuck what you’re allowed and not allowed.
you’re desperately, helplessly, hopelessly in love with jeon jungkook. your gorgeous, gorgeous boy.
yours.
then why are you not allowed to be in love with him?
because you’ve been dating him for three months. three months.
only three months, since you decided to stop pining after him, decided it was enough, after god knows how long. three months since that decision led you to be extremely nonchalant around him, calm and collected to a point where it almost looked fake (you’re a terrible actor), and the next thing you knew, you were heavily making out with him in the chilly air of a fall night. calm and collected, indeed. three months since you learned that jungkook was pining for you in the same manner, if not more, and three freaking months since both of you decided to date, being head over heels for one other ever since.
it's too soon to say ‘I love you’. even if you know deep down that you were in love with him even before dating him– but there’s no way you’re treading that water. the realization of being in love with him right now is enough to freak you out. no, it’s definitely too soon to declare ‘I love you’.
because you don’t know whether jungkook feels the same way. although it’s not like you need or expect him to feel the same way you do. just because you’re in love with him doesn’t mean he has to be. you can happily wait until he’s ready and feels the same way.
you’re just scared that he doesn’t want to feel that way. that you’ll scare him away.
look at him. does he look like he feels the same as you?
jeon jungkook looks like a slow-motion daydream, standing in front of you. tight-fitting jeans, snug around the well-defined muscles of his thighs, and a black checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up, displaying the protruding veins of his arm. his curly hair covers the vein in his forehead, almost reaching down to his lips which were pouting in distress.
yeah, you don’t care how he feels. you’re in love with him.
but you are a graveyard of all the people you ever loved.
you can’t have jungkook join those ghosts of the past.
“three hours now. we’ve been trying to fix it for three hours.”, you shake your head, frustrated. you’ve been out all day today and the last thing you wanted to do when you got back home was your laundry. but the lack of fresh clothes compelled you to do it anyway. and everything would’ve been fine had you not entered your laundry room to discover the whole floor flooded with water. panicked and disoriented, your first instinct was to call jungkook, despite it being past midnight. when your boyfriend heard what had happened, he immediately demanded you step aside and that he was already on his way over to your house.
“this thing–”, the boy of your dream grumbles out loud in real life, breaking your thought train, “–hates me!”
oh, that.
now, it’s four in the morning and you’re both dripping wet, absolutely drained, standing in a puddle of water and soap. all you could do is to stare dejectedly at the washing machine. it was a losing battle.
“oh my god!”, jungkook cries out in indignation, “a minute ago it was sprinkling water in my face, now it’s sprinkling soapy water!”
“jungkook, move away”, you hurriedly pull your boyfriend away from your washing machine. he rebels under your grip, the patience he displayed half an hour ago was now transformed into rage.
how can someone be so cute when they’re mad?
“let me go, ash”, he points a threatening finger at the washing machine, “you wanted a fight, buddy? I’ll give you!”
“jungkook!”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, “it already won! look at us!”
jungkook stares down at your attached bodies, soaked from top to bottom, while the washing machine looks like it is having a field trip.
“okay, I give up”, he sighs and rests his chin on the top of your head, “unless–”
“no unless.”
“hear me out first”, he smooches your hair, “you smell amazing by the way. anyways, unless– wait, what was I going to say? I was supposed to say something amazing.”
“I’m sure it was amazing, babe”, you chuckle with fondness, “but that thing is a lost cause. I’ll call maintenance in the morning. let’s take a shower and go to sleep, okay?”
“mhm. yeah”, he replies in affirmation but only tightens his arms around you.
“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should’ve just– I don’t know. I mean, it was just a minor inconvenience. not a big deal. I don’t know why I freaked out–”
“princess, ssh”, jungkook coos, “you have a problem, you call me. doesn’t matter how small or big it is.”
“kook, I literally called you at one in the morning.”
“and I am very glad that I am the first person that crossed your mind. even though I couldn’t help you. I swear to god, this washing machine has a personal grudge against us.”
“thank you anyways”, you mumble against his chest.
“hey, this is what boyfriends are for.”
how is it possible not to love him?
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you wake up to the humming of a honey-caramel voice in the distance.
you yawn and grab the crisply folded silk robe from the foot of your bed. the clothes haphazardly tossed on the ground last night were nowhere in sight, and neither was the person who did so. yet you could hear his hums, feel his warmth.
you smile.
the clock on the wall reflects a bright 11:10, and it’s safe to say that you’ve just woken up. after staying up with your rogue washing machine till four in the morning, you can’t really blame yourself. you feel very well-rested though, for the first time in a while.
jeon jungkook’s presence has that kind of power.
you make an effort to stay silent in your own house. your bare feet tiptoe against the icy floors, carrying you to the sweet melody you’re fairly certain is your boyfriend in the kitchen. and undoubtedly it is. jeon jungkook has his back turned towards you– white tee clinging to his physique, his hair damp and disheveled, singing softly to himself while doing the dishes.
you hold your breath and hug him from the back, resting your cheek against his spine.
jungkook, momentarily confused, laughs when he realizes it’s you.
“good morning princess.”
“good morning jungkook”, you inhale him in. he smells like peaches and baby soap. and fresh laundry. “you smell heavenly.”
“I just came out of the shower–”
 “–hey!”, you cut him short when he gently peels you off him, unexpectedly devoid of warmth, but jungkook hugs you back in an instant; your ear against his ribcage, his chin on the top of yours.
“mmm, that’s better”, you mumble, “did you do the laundry? you smell like detergent.”
 you can almost reach out and touch the outlines of his smile. “you couldn’t do it last night so I thought I’d take some work off your shoulders. I folded your clothes as well!”
“aww, you didn’t have to do– wait, the washing machine is fixed?”
“yeah, I called the repairmen in the morning and they said they were coming over. I was pretty surprised at how quickly they arrived.”
“what happened?”
“one of the pipes got leaked somehow. I think I also did some damage when I tried to fix it. but don’t worry, it’s as good as new.”
“not worrying”, you let go of jungkook and let muscle memory guide you to the coffee machine, “why did you wake up so early?”
 “it’s one p.m. in the afternoon. what’re you talking about?”, jungkook laughs.
“it’s one p.m.?!”, you choke on your coffee, “the clock– but it was eleven–”
“it’s out of battery. I got new ones though”, jungkook points at the bags sitting on your counter.
“you went grocery shopping? you spent an entire lifetime while I slept!”, jungkook chuckles at your awe, “tell me from the beginning. what did you do?”
“well, I called the repairmen as soon as I woke up and then I went to take a shower. they were here by the time I was done. I made us breakfast while they fixed your machine, went grocery shopping afterward, came back and did laundry, here I am now”, jungkook kisses your forehead, “all while someone slept like a baby.”
“oh my god. thank you so much.”
I love you.
“you’re welcome, babe”, he smiles, “I gotta leave now. but listen, I got you ice cream, popcorn and those salty chips you seem to love so much. call me if you need anything else.”
“huh? why though?”, you peer in confusion. you’re usually not very big on snacking. and jungkook knows that. unless it’s your–
“your period is supposed to start tomorrow, genius”, he rolls his eyes, “you don’t remember, do you?”
you clearly didn’t.
apparently, he did.
you tiptoe forward to hug jungkook, too stunned to form any coherent word. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the tears filling your eyes but when he lifts your face to gently kiss your eyelids, you realize that he knew you were gonna cry.
yeah, I definitely love you.
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“hello, jungkookie’s girlfriend!”
kim taehyungs’s visibly enthusiastic face beams at you through the screen of your phone. your initial reaction is to wave brightly at him, despite the slight confusion of whether you accidentally called him when you picked up the phone to facetime your boyfriend.
“hi, tae!”, you say heartily, “gosh, it’s been a while since I saw you.”
“and whose fault is that, huh?”, taehyung’s voice is a warm breeze on a spring evening, “jungkookie tells me you’ve been like… hella busy”
“I was. I mean, I am. it feels like I am always busy these days”, you sigh, “but never busy enough for you guys! how are you?”
“good. busy as well, but good.”
“kook told me last night. you guys work way too hard.”
“wait”, taehyung exploded into laughter, “jungkookie was at your place last night?”
“...yeah?”
“our manager was looking for him and jungkookie was going on and on about how he was in his room all night and manager hyung didn’t knock loudly enough!”
“oh my god, he wasn’t supposed to be at mine yesterday?”
“no, I mean, he was done working but he didn’t tell anyone before leaving the dorm!”
“that might be my fault”, guilt fills your eyes, “I was doing laundry last night and my washing machine started leaking water everywhere. I panicked and called kook. I’m sorry”
“hey, it’s okay, no harm was done”, taehyung looks amused, “so you were doing laundry at midnight? no wonder jungkookie is obsessed with you.”
“obsessed with me, huh?”, you smile playfully, concealing the tiny somersault your heart does.
“he literally never stops talking about you”, taehyung grins widely, “bro is whipped”
“hmm, I did call bro’s phone, right? or did I accidentally call you?”
“how do accidentally call taehyung instead of jungkook? one starts with t and one starts with j”, taehyung suddenly looks disgusted, “unless you saved him as something weird, in that case, I don’t wanna know–”
“kim taehyung.”
“or you can just tell me that you missed me, you know”, taehyung flips his phone camera and you spot a dancing jeon jungkook in the middle of a huge practice room, “but since the only person you care about is jungkookie–”
“kim taehyung–”
“–you called him, okay?”, you hear taehyung’s laughter, “I was playing games on his phone. he’s practicing extra today.
“practicing extra?”
“he said you guys made plans to hang out tomorrow.”
“we– we did”, you’re puzzled. jungkook continues to dance furiously, his quick and precise movements almost defying gravity, completely unaware of his surroundings, “wait, we planned to meet tomorrow because both of us had a clear schedule. why is he practicing extra today?”
“hobi hyung was asking him the same thing”, taehyung nods his head in mock disappointment, “we don’t really have a free schedule tomorrow. but he said that if you couldn’t meet tomorrow it’d be a while before you did. right?”
“y-yeah”, you blink.
“soooo, yeah. as I said, bro’s so whipped.”
oh god. be still my wild heart.
“this boy”, you finally exhale after a pause; feeling bad that he’s overworking himself to meet your needs, feeling grateful that it’s worth it to him.
“this boy, indeed. no, actually, we’re kinda proud of how amazingly we raised him.”
“you really, really did. ya’ll should give out parenting lessons.”
taehyung chuckles, “okay, I’ll give the phone to him.”
“tae, don’t”, you smile, quickly stopping him from calling jungkook, “just tell him to call me whenever he’s free, okay? I’ll be up.”
“okay, then. take rest, okay? don’t overwork yourself.”
“look who’s preaching”, you shoot him a stern look, “the kings of overworking themselves. take care, okay?”
taehyung laughs, “yeah. come over to the dorm whenever you’re free. we all miss you.”
“I will. bye!”
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“kook– stop it–”, you say in between a few puffs of breath, “you’re– god– tickling me!”
“am I?”, jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, and smothers his face on the exposed skin of your tummy once again, causing you to almost choke with another round of laughter. the sensation of his lips against your tummy has the butterflies inside going frenzy, but a part of you is scared shitless that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with yourself.
you want to laugh; you want to cry. you wanna twirl into a knot and fly up in the sky. jungkook has no idea of the power he has over you– his body molds into yours, one his hands have shaped, a design he has drawn, kissed it into a sculpture.
you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it.
I love you. I love you so much that I can’t deny it any longer, the promise stays silent on your tongue.
you wanna cry.
at least, you think you do.
“your heartbeat is going crazy”, jungkook calms down once he’s done tickling you out of your wits. he moves between your thighs and presses his ear against your heart space while gently laying his head on your chest.
yeah, do you know that is because I love you and not because you tickled the living lights outta me?
“princess?”, he asks quietly.
say it.
“princess?”, jungkook raises his head and looks at you, mildly concerned “are you okay?”
say something.
instead, you stare at him. you stare at his eyes. if eyes are actually a mirror of people’s souls, jungkook’s eyes perfectly represent his– filled to the brim with tenderness, tranquility, and mirth. a few years ago, you had read somewhere that humans were created from the burned-out embers of stars. you never believed it. the same folks who start wars, spill blood, stealing lying deceiving and doing everything evil, cannot be created from something so divine.
however, jungkook, over and over again, contradicts that belief. you have no doubt he’s born out of stardust. and fiery comets, northern lights, solar eclipses, everything magic.
“why are you crying?!”, jungkook’s anxious voice snaps you out of your reverie. without realizing you find yourself getting pulled up to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. “is it me? did I do something?”
“itsh nn-not”, you utter weakly but the words come out as a stifled sob. when jungkook doesn’t understand what you’re saying, he completely loses his composure. he lets go of you and attempts to pry himself away, fairly convinced that he must’ve done something stupid. but you dig your fingers in his arms, trying to communicate with your firm grip that he did nothing wrong. it’s you, you’re the stupid one.
it takes him a few more seconds to realize that you’re crying for something else altogether, and only then does he relax. he wraps his arms around you, letting you break down in his little protective bubble.
what is wrong with me? why does every feeling of mine come out as tears?
“it’s okay, it’s okay”, jungkook coos, “breathe. breathe with me.”
“inhale with me”, he holds eye contact and carefully guides your breath, “good. now exhale. in. and out. it’s okay. I love you. you’re okay, princess.”
and
everything
just
freezes
for a moment.
for a moment?
seems like a lifetime.
you never realize how many types of ‘I love you’s there are until they’re spoken out aloud. most ‘I love you’s are expressed as a confession, while there are some which are born out of panic. I love you. do you love me back? these ‘I love you’s are full of anxiety, and a desperate longing for reassurance, for arms that’ll keep them safe. some are born out of anger and frustration. I’m doing this for you, because I love you, why don’t you understand? then there are those which are born out of pure terror because I love you but I’m afraid that all I’ll ever do is hurt you.
jungkook’s ‘I love you’ sounded like it was nurtured, a flower that bloomed inside a long time ago. like a blanket woven from your favorite human on the entire planet and falling asleep with someone inside your heart no matter how alone you feel outside; a promise.
not that any of you were in the right state of mind to realize that.
you and jungkook realize at the same time. the words that have been spoken out to existence.
he stares at you; you stare at him. devastated, mouth hanging, eyes bulging. none of you breathing.
jungkook closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.
“that was not a mistake”, his voice is deep and low. you hold your breath, afraid to miss a single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I do. I will if you allow me to. not that I can help it– I mean, even if you don’t allow it I can’t help myself. I love you. it’s not like I can just un-love you! wait, why do I need your permission anyway? it’s my feelings we’re talking about! okay, but it does concern you”, jungkook looks mortified, “but still, you don’t have to say it back. it’s great if you do but like, there’s no pressure. just don’t tell me to un-love you because that one is none of your business, oka–”
you kiss him. you kiss the living lights out of him. jungkook doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just accepts everything– the way your lips smashes against his, the way your tongue envelops his, finding you in every corner of his mouth, feeling you in every inch of his skin; a drunkard clinging onto every last drop of alcohol yet never having enough.
jungkook is literally panting when you let go of him.
 “I was crying because I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a while now and I didn’t know how to say so”, you confess. only a few words are enough to make realization flash in his eyes. after all, he knows you. he knows you well enough to know everything, even the things he doesn’t.
“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to deserve this”, jungkook closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.
“I think this is your first life. you’re like the sugar in a cookie.”
“what? I thought I was the cookie!”, jungkook furrows his eyebrows, offended, “also, sugar isn’t good for you. what are you talking about?!”
you giggle in response.
“hey! take it back”, he overpowers you in a swift motion. he reels your bodies backward to hover over you, pinning your hands down on the mattress, smirking. “otherwise you’re gonna regret it.”
“regret? nah, I think I will enjoy it”, your smirk wipes off the one on his face.
“oh boy”, he sighs.
“jungkook?”
“yeah?”
“say it again”, you whisper.
“I love you.”
“again.”
“I love you.”
193 notes · View notes
former-leftist-jew · 1 day ago
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Oh, you've "paid attention to Hamas"? So that means you've seen and read top Hamas official interviews where they state their goal in their own words.
Like the time Hamas leader Ghazi Hamad said that they'd repeat Oct 7th attacks again and again and again, as many times as necessary till "Israel is annihilated," And he bragged about sacrificing as many of their own people as possible to make it happen:
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Or the time Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh called for "the blood of women, children, and the elderly of Gaza--to awaken our revolutionary spirit," safe from his 5-Star luxury hotel suits in Iran. (Until Israel got him too, forcing the hypocrite to practice what he preached.)
Or the time Hamas official Mousa Abu Marzouk admitted that they had plenty of heavily stocked and fortified underground tunnels, but said they were created to "protect Hamas fighters, not civilians," and added that he didn't think protecting Gaza civilians was their responsibility.
“'I hope that the state of war with Israel will become permanent on all the borders...' Hamas media adviser Taher El-Nounou told the New York Times."
Sinwar's deputy said Hamas had wider goals than running Gaza. “Hamas’s goal is not to run Gaza and to bring it water and electricity and such,” said Mr. al-Hayya, the politburo member. “Hamas, the Qassam and the resistance woke the world up from its deep sleep and showed that this issue must remain on the table.” “This battle was not because we wanted fuel or laborers,” he added. “It did not seek to improve the situation in Gaza."
Oh! Speaking of Sinwar:
Of course you've seen the video surveillance footage from mere hours before the Octover 7th atrocities, when he took his own wife and kids and supplies to hide in heavily stocked and fortified underground bunkers
"When people show you who they are, believe them the first time."
-
Oh! Speaking of people showing you who they are, you've of course read Hamas's charter from when they were first founded in 1988, right?
My personal passage is from Article 7:
The Islamic Resistance Movement... goes back to 1939, to the emergence of the martyr Izz al-Din al Kissam and his brethren the fighters, members of Moslem Brotherhood. It goes on to reach out and become one with another chain that includes the struggle of the Palestinians and Moslem Brotherhood in the 1948 war and the Jihad operations of the Moslem Brotherhood in 1968 and after.
Like the part where they flat-out say that they're an off-shoot of the Muslime Brotherhood that was formed in Egypt in the 1940's. (And are now banned from their founding country of Egypt because of the "jihad operations" (i.e. bloody coups and conflicts they caused) that they brag about from the 1960's and after.)
Article 7 goes on to say:
"The Islamic Resistance Movement aspires to the realisation of Allah's promise, no matter how long that should take. The Prophet, Allah bless him and grant him salvation, has said:
"The Day of Judgement will not come about until Moslems fight the Jews (killing the Jews), when the Jew will hide behind stones and trees. The stones and trees will say O Moslems, O Abdulla, there is a Jew behind me, come and kill him. Only the Gharkad tree would not do that because it is one of the trees of the Jews." (related by al-Bukhari and Moslem).
Nothing like a founding documen saying, "Our goal is to kill all Jews like the ancient Islamic prophets said will end the world and bring about eternal Paradise."
And if you don't believe me, here's a link to the said ancient prophecy:
The last hour would not come unless the Muslims will fight against the Jews and the Muslims would kill them until the Jews would hide themselves behind a stone or a tree and a stone or a tree would say: Muslim, or the servant of Allah, there is a Jew behind me; come and kill him; but the tree Gharqad would not say, for it is the tree of the Jews.
What a lovely religion.
Hamas Founding Charter, Article 12:
Nationalism, from the point of view of the Islamic Resistance Movement, is part of the religious creed. Nothing in nationalism is more significant or deeper than in the case when an enemy should tread Moslem land. Resisting and quelling the enemy become the individual duty of every Moslem, male or female.... If other nationalist movements are connected with materialistic, human or regional causes, nationalism of the Islamic Resistance Movement has all these elements as well as the more important elements that give it soul and life. It is connected to the source of spirit and the granter of life, hoisting in the sky of the homeland the heavenly banner that joins earth and heaven with a strong bond.
AKA It's a religious movement fueled by religious motivation: To "quell" the enemies of Allah and force unbelievers to submit to Islam.
I could go on and on, but of course you know all this stuff, right?
It’s so funny seeing pro-israelis try to defend Israel with the excuse of ‘Israel protecting themselves’. or that it’s ‘Not Israel’s fault because Hamas is hiding with civilians’ etc etc.
Like please. The USA has managed to kill !THREE! leaders of terrorist groups without killing tens of thousands of innocent people. Turkey has killed ISIS militants and hit targets without killing tens of thousands of people.
They also prove how they’re completely ignorant how violent Israel has been towards Palestine before. This has been going on for way longer than October 7th 2023. There is absolutely NO justification for what Israel is doing. If you support genocide simply say so.
795 notes · View notes
keeryhours · 1 day ago
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me and your mama - rafe cameron
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Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader
Masterlist
Rafe Cameron Masterlist
More Baby Daddy! Rafe
Summary:
you know that i love you
so let me into your heart
Rafe spends a day with his girls, and maybe confesses some feelings.
Requested
Warnings:
None really, kissing/making out, just fluff and a bit of angst
Word Count: 2,913
A/N:
It is seriously so exciting that you guys are loving baby daddy! Rafe as much as I am. Thank you so much for interacting and requesting!
“Dada?”
That had been the soundtrack to the entire morning. Iris had followed you around on her short little legs, the only word she wanted to say today being “dada”. It was driving you crazy, but at the same time you felt guilty, knowing she was missing her dad.
After about the 105th “dada”, you sighed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. “Okay, baby girl. Let’s call daddy.”
The phone didn’t ring long before you heard his low voice over the line.
“Hey,” Rafe greeted, sounding bored.
“Hey,” you said back, phone stuck between your ear and shoulder as you cut up a banana for Iris’ snack.
“What’s up?”
“Your daughter misses you,” you said, glancing down at the toddler watching you with her full attention. She reached a chubby hand up and you handed her a banana slice.
“Yeah?” Rafe asked, a chuckle in his voice. “I miss her, too.”
“Do you want to come over?” you asked him. You rinsed the knife you had been using in the sink before dropping it in to properly wash later.
“Yeah, I’ll come over,” he said. You heard him groan as he stood from wherever he’d been sitting.
“Long night?” you asked. Iris trailed after you as you walked to her high chair with her plate in hand. You lifted her and sat her in it, buckling her in.
“Something like that.”
You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to know what he meant by that. Iris giggled up at you with her mouth full of banana, making you laugh.
“I’ll see you in a few.”
By the time Iris finished eating and you got her and her chair all cleaned up, the front door was opening. Those heavy footsteps sounded as he walked down the hall, finding the two of you in the kitchen.
Iris’ whole face lit up when Rafe walked into the room. She squealed as she ran to him, arms up in the air to be picked up.
Rafe laughed as he scooped her into his arms, hugging her close. “Hey, baby girl. I heard you missed me.”
Iris wrapped her tiny hand around Rafe’s nose. “Dada!”
Rafe laughed again. “That’s my nose.” He grabbed at her little one. “And that’s your nose.” Iris laughed like it was the funniest thing he could have done.
You couldn’t help the smile on your face at the sight of Rafe and Iris. They loved each other so much, it was clear to anyone who looked for even a second.
��Did you have plans today?” you asked him, leaning against the counter as you watched.
“No plans,” he said. He turned to look at you then. “Why, did you want to do something?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought it might be nice to get out of the house.”
Rafe looked down at the little girl in his arms. “What do you think, Iris? Do you wanna go to the park?”
“Ark!” she agreed, eyes shining bright.
“I think she likes the idea,” Rafe said, shooting you a smirk.
“Park it is, then,” you said, smiling to yourself as you pushed off the counter. “Let me get changed.”
You changed into something that felt a little cuter to be going out in public, but still casual enough to run around at the park. You settled on a pair of shorts and a crop top.
You came out of your bedroom to see Rafe playing with Iris on the living room floor. You smiled at them, then moved into the kitchen again. You figured you might as well make a whole thing out of it. You grabbed some ingredients and began to make lunches for the three of you.
The sounds of Iris’ wild giggles filled the house as you made sandwiches, cut up fruit, and grabbed some little bags of chips and snacks from the cabinet. You grabbed the small insulated cooler from next to the back door and packed the lunch in it, along with some sodas, juice for Iris, and some beers for Rafe.
You were grateful that Rafe kept a car seat installed in his truck, because moving and reinstalling it was the biggest pain in the ass. He carried Iris out of the house while you carried her diaper bag on your shoulder and the cooler in your hands, along with a blanket. He hooked her into her car seat, talking to her softly and making her giggle the whole time. Usually she just screams in your face when you try to get her in the car seat.
Rafe drove you all to the park on Figure 8. The windows were down in the truck because it was such a beautiful day. The salty wind whipped your hair around your face, but it felt so nice you didn’t care.
Iris began kicking her feet and cheering as Rafe pulled into the parking lot of the park. You both laughed at her excitement and he shut off the truck, both of you hopping out.
Rafe put Iris down as you reached the grass of the park, and she took off as fast as her little legs would carry her. Rafe trailed behind her, laughing.
“Where you going?” he called after her. She only squealed in response, running up to the swing set and reaching for the baby swing. She looked back at her dad expectantly.
Rafe lifted her up and sat her in the swing, pushing her high enough that she was having the time of her life but not so high he was scared of her getting hurt. When she was tired of the swings he let her down and she ran to the slide. You and Rafe each held one of her hands as she slid down, quickly running back to do it again and again.
“Getting hungry?” you asked her after she had been playing for an hour. It was nearing nap time, too.
“Hungy,” she confirmed, and you noticed her wiping her eyes.
Rafe scooped her up in his arms while you grabbed the blanket and cooler and you found a comfortable place in the grass, a good distance away from other families at the park. You spread the blanket and the three of you sat down, making yourselves comfortable.
You opened the cooler and started grabbing Iris’ food. You set it all up for her and she began eating right away, tiny fingers grabbing for a chunk of strawberry first.
You passed Rafe his sandwich and chips, which he took with a grateful look.
“Beer or soda?” you asked him.
“Beer would be good,” he said, predictably. You passed him the bottle and he opened it with ease, taking a few big sips.
You unwrapped your own sandwich and took a bite, taking in the scenery around you as you ate your lunch. It really was a beautiful day, and it had been too long since you just spent time outdoors, in nature. It felt peaceful, the air smelled clean. You sipped your soda, enjoying the breeze on your skin.
The best view of all was right next to you. You took in the image of your daughter, sitting comfortably leaned back against Rafe while she ate her lunch. She was dressed in a little pair of overalls today, a pink shirt underneath.
Your eyes traveled up to Rafe, looking off into the distance as he drank his beer. He must have been thinking the same thing you were, his eyes glancing over the scene surrounding you. You couldn’t help but notice how blue his eyes looked in the light, the way they were slightly squinted in the sun. His big, strong hand wrapped around his beer bottle. The strong muscles of his arms, his chest…
You were getting carried away.
You tried to shake it off, but then he turned at the last moment, eyes meeting yours. He smiled at you, and it made your heart thump harder in your chest. You wondered if he would always have this effect over you.
Iris fell asleep after lunch. She just curled up right on the blanket and passed out before either of you had even realized.
“She’s so beautiful,” Rafe mused, gently brushing some of his daughter’s soft brown hair out of her face without waking her.
“She looks just like you,” you pointed out.
“I know,” he said. “Lucky girl.”
You shoved him in the shoulder hard, and he laughed, nearly falling over into the grass.
“You’re so annoying,” you laughed, shaking your head.
He was still laughing as he plucked another beer from the cooler. He opened it and lifted it to his lips. He reached forward and tucked your hair behind your ear.
“She would have been lucky to look like you, too,” he said, and you laughed lightly. “Seriously. You’re the hottest girl on the island, Maybank.”
You felt your cheeks heating up, looking down at your legs instead of at him. “That is not true.”
“You think I’d lie about that?” Rafe asked. He continued to drink his beer, his eyes never leaving your face.
You shrugged.
You heard Rafe sigh, then you felt his hand on the side of your face, turning it to look at him. He was so much closer than you realized when you turned, and before you could open your lips to speak, he was kissing you.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back. His hand landed on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth. His tongue slowly dragged along yours, and you accidentally moaned against him, causing his lips to tilt up in a smirk. He didn’t stop kissing you though, dominating the kiss and exploring your mouth with his tongue.
Your hand rested on his thigh, the other on the blanket as you leaned your weight against it. You tilted your head to kiss him more naturally, his fingers playing with the hair at the back of your neck.
When he finally pulled away he rested his forehead against yours. He said your name, low, nearly pained.
You felt the same pain in your chest. You wanted so badly for things to be different with Rafe, and you knew he wanted that too. But you had both agreed you couldn’t be together.
“Rafe…” you whispered back. His nose brushed against yours, your faces still so close as he just rested there, like he was thinking.
“Why are we doing this?” he finally asked, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper.
“Doing what?” you asked, not sure what exactly he was referring to.
“Pretending we don’t love each other.”
You froze. You felt like all the air had been sucked from your body. Rafe’s hand left your hair and grabbed onto your hand. “Rafe…” you breathed out again. You didn’t know what to say.
“It’s kind of bullshit, isn’t it?” he continued, forehead still pressed against yours. It would take only the slightest movement for your lips to meet again.
You agreed. It was bullshit. You were tired of it, too. But you and Rafe had also mutually agreed that you weren’t right together. Your brief relationship had been toxic, dramatic, exhausting. You didn’t want to go through it again.
“Yeah,” you said simply. His thumb rubbed across the back of your hand.
“I want to be with my daughter every day. I want to be with you every day.” Rafe looked into your eyes then and you’d never seen him look so serious. Well, a couple of times, but it was rare. It was enough to scare you.
“I want that too, but Rafe-“
“Why don’t we just try again?”
You closed your eyes tightly. You thought you might cry if you didn’t. “We can’t.”
Rafe scoffed, looking away, back into the distance of the park in front of you. He ran a hand over his buzz cut, a sign of the stress he was feeling.
“I know,” he said finally. “I know.”
You both sat there in silence for a little while, listening to the sounds of kids screaming at the park, birds in the trees, Iris’ soft breathing as she slept between you.
“I just think…” Rafe began again. “Maybe…it could be different this time.”
You wanted to believe that more than anything. You wanted to take the chance. But you didn’t think you’d survive the heartbreak when it inevitably didn’t work again. You and Rafe were already tied together for the rest of your lives, something that had taken you long enough to come to terms with after the initial breakup. You had never wanted to see him again at the time, and now you had a successful co-parenting relationship. You were terrified to lose the peace you had come to find in your shared lives, returning back to the chaos.
“I want that,” you said. “I really do. But it just feels like a bad idea.”
Rafe nodded. His face didn’t betray any of his emotions, but you could tell they were swirling in his head. He finished off his second beer. “I’m never gonna stop loving you, you know.”
Your heart twisted in your chest at his words. Because you knew exactly how he felt. “I’ll never stop loving you either, Rafe.”
You saw his jaw clench as you spoke the words. The muscles in his arm flexed as he clenched and unclenched his fist. He was holding back. He had more to say.
“We should get her home,” he said instead, and he was packing the cooler and bags before you could say anything else. He gently picked up Iris’ sleeping form as you grabbed the other supplies and the blanket. Iris curled against his chest, not waking from her sleep for even a second. You had been blessed with an amazing sleeper for a baby.
The drive home was more awkward, the carefree joy from earlier suffocated by this tension. You looked at Rafe’s hand on the wheel as his other arm rested on the open window. You looked away, making an effort to stop thinking about how attractive he was when you were trying to get over him.
Maybe you’d be happier getting under him.
You shook that thought away.
Back at the house, Rafe carried Iris inside, taking her to her nursery and laying her down in her crib without waking her while you collapsed on the couch. You were surprised when he joined you a minute later, thinking he’d leave as soon as he got her down.
“I had a good time with you guys. I like when we get to do stuff together.”
“Me too,” you said honestly. Rafe’s hand rested on your bare thigh, and he squeezed once. You looked over at him to find him already staring at you.
He moved closer, slowly, giving you ample time to push him away. You didn’t. When his lips touched yours again he kissed you passionately, hand resting on your waist and pulling you closer. So close that you ended up throwing your leg over his lap, straddling him.
He groaned against your lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close and pulling your hips down against his as you kissed. Your arms rested around his neck, chest pressed against his. His big hands slid down to your ass and he grabbed hard.
You gasped into the kiss, Rafe taking it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth again. His hands were beginning to creep up your shirt when you pulled back. “Rafe…”
“Come on, right here on the couch before JJ gets home from work,” Rafe practically begged, his eyes dark with lust and his hands touching all over you. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, fighting a battle with your own body.
“Can’t,” you force yourself to say, and the word sounds as pained as you feel. “We can’t.”
Rafe leaned forward, head falling against your chest as he sighed. He placed a few more kisses on the tops of your breasts peeking out of your top before pressing one more to your lips.
“Okay,” he conceded.
You climbed off his lap, although neither of you wanted you to. Rafe’s hand lingered on your thigh as you sat next to him, rubbing your skin affectionately.
“I guess I’ll go then,” he said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking texts and anything else he’s missed since he hadn’t touched the phone while he was with you. Topper’s invited him to some party, which doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend this night. A good way to forget.
You looked at him sadly, wanting to tell him no, stay, and maybe also please fuck me on the couch like you were just about to. But you don’t.
Rafe leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” His voice rumbled right against your ear.
You didn’t move as he stood and left the house. You didn’t move when you heard his truck start and the gravel kicking up as he drove off. You fingers itched for your phone, to tell him to please come back no matter how humiliating that would be.
Instead your fingers reach up and touch your lips, still tingling from his kiss like he’d never left.
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capquinn · 22 hours ago
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I always think abt spending time with Quinn during the summer in Michigan. I can’t name specifics but just how fun and peaceful it would be
Summers at the lake house with Quinn are a mix of laughter, lazy mornings, and endless evenings, filled with friends, family, and those little moments that make time feel like it’s standing still.
Mornings always begin slowly, the two of you bundled up in oversized sweatshirts, sitting side by side on the back porch. A gentle mist curls through the trees, drifting lazily over the lake’s surface as sunlight spills in golden streaks across the water, hinting at the warmth to come.
Quinn leans back in his chair, stretching his arms overhead with a satisfied sigh, eyes still a bit sleepy but lit with anticipation.
“So, what do you think, wakeboarding this morning?” he asks, his mouth curling into a playful smile, eyes holding that familiar spark of a challenge.
You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Only if you promise not to laugh when I inevitably face-plant.”
He grins, nudging your knee with his own, the warmth of his touch grounding. “Can’t make any promises,” he teases, laughing softly.
Out on the lake, it’s a group effort. Quinn’s friends and his brothers are scattered across the boat, offering their own mix of tips and teasing encouragement. Jack leans over the side, grinning as he shouts, “lean back like you’re lounging on the dock!” Luke, trying to be helpful, chimes in with, “And keep your knees bent! Or you’ll end up face-first in the water like last time.”
Quinn, calm as ever, steps in with a steady, “You’ve got this.” His voice cuts through the noise, steady and reassuring.
Finally, when you find your balance and start carving smoothly over the water, a mix of cheers and laughter erupts from the boat.
Quinn’s voice stands out, his pride clear as he yells, “there you go!”
Afternoons at the lake house slide by in a relaxed blur, everyone naturally gravitating toward the basement pool table as the sun hangs high outside. The space hums with friendly rivalry, laughter bouncing off the walls as you all escape the heat.
Jack leans back against the wall, arms crossed, eyeing his brother with a smirk. “Alright, Q, show ’em how it’s done!” he taunts, tossing a cue stick Quinn’s way.
Quinn catches it effortlessly, his eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as he steps up to the table. There’s an amused spark in his gaze as he lines up his shot, his focus steady despite the playful jeers around him. He makes the shot effortlessly, the ball sinking with a satisfying clink, and Luke throws his hands up in exaggerated frustration while everyone groans or laughs, depending on whose side they’re on.
You give him a teasing look, nudging his shoulder. “Lucky shot, don’t let it get to your head,” you say, arching a brow like you’re unimpressed, though the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.
Quinn chuckles, shifting his grip on the cue stick before leaning over, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. His arm slips around your waist as he plants a quick, affectionate kiss on your forehead.
“Oh, lucky?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “I’ll show you lucky.” His fingers graze your waist just enough to make you shiver, and there’s a playful gleam in his eye as he pulls back, leaving you grinning, heart fluttering.
Jack lets out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes as he catches the exchange. “Alright, lovebirds, some of us are trying to focus here!”
Summer sunsets are the quiet part of the day, where the world seems to slow down and breathe with you. The sun dips low, casting a hazy, golden glow over the lake as you and Quinn sink into oversized deck chairs by the dock. The wood beneath you is warm from the day, though a cool breeze drifts off the water, making it just right. He’s pulled your legs up onto his lap, fingers tracing lazy circles along your shin. His cheeks and nose are tinged pink, his hair soft and tousled from air drying after a dip in the water.
He leans back, eyes half-closed, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, favorite part of today?” he asks, a content look in his eyes. “Go.”
You pretend to think, humming thoughtfully. “Oh, I’d have to say watching you get wiped out by that wave after showing off,” you tease, giving him an exaggeratedly serious nod. “Poetic, really.”
He raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. “Right, because you’ve been doing this for, what, a solid thirty minutes?” he teases back, smirking.
“Oh, please,” you shoot back, raising a brow. “I’m still at least twice as graceful as you, Hughes.”
“Yeah? Wanna bet on it?” His fingers give your leg a playful squeeze, his face lighting up with a challenge. “Next time, you’re wakeboarding first.”
“Fine,” you say with a grin, shrugging. “I’ll look forward to showing you how it’s done.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, then glances down at your legs stretched across his lap. “Actually,” he says, leaning back with a smirk, “this might be my favorite part — feet up, view’s decent…” He gestures lazily between you and the lake.
You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “Pretty sure the view’s doing all the work here.”
He shrugs, his grin widening as his fingers keep tracing soft patterns along your skin. “I like it right where I am.”
Evenings are filled with the crackling warmth of a bonfire by the lake. Everyone gathers around, lounging in camp chairs or sprawled on blankets, faces flickering in the orange glow as Luke brings up the “great raccoon incident” from earlier that morning. Jack is laughing so hard he nearly tips his chair, and Quinn reaches over to steady him, shaking his head with a smirk.
“All I’m saying,” Jack wheezes, “is that we really thought it was Quinn sneaking around the trash bins! I wasn’t trying to scare a raccoon — I thought we were about to jump out and scare him.”
“Right, because I’m usually rummaging in the trash at seven a.m. on a Saturday?” Quinn deadpans.
“No, listen,” you chime in, wiping away tears of laughter. “We saw a shadow moving, and we thought it was you, so Jack and I were creeping up, all ready to yell and everything.”
Jack gasps for breath, his laughter spilling out again. “I turned the corner, ready to jump out, and then it’s just this… giant raccoon looking at me like, ‘Who’s this idiot?’”
He loses it again, and everyone around the fire cracks up, the image of Jack gearing up to scare a raccoon sinking in.
“And then you screamed louder than it did!” you manage to get out, setting everyone off all over again, laughter echoing into the warm night air.
Later, the lake is quiet, the kind of warm, easy silence that settles in only when everyone else has drifted inside for the night. You’re out on the dock with Quinn, the faint glow of the fairy lights strung overhead casting soft shadows across the water. It’s still, peaceful, and the air carries that gentle warmth that only late summer brings.
Perched on his lap, you’re curled up with your legs draped over his, one hand weaving through his hair while the other lingers along his jaw, feeling the faint roughness of stubble beneath your fingers. His arm wraps around your waist, fingers spread over your back, holding you close, while his other hand rests on your thigh, thumb brushing idle circles against your skin. The dock shifts slightly with the gentle movement of waves rocking into shore, and the lake reflects back a mirror of stars.
His mouth finds yours, soft and warm, and you savor the faint press, how he tilts his head just so to deepen the moment. You can feel the faint hitch of his breath as your hand traces over the side of his face, fingertips gliding along his cheek before curling at the back of his neck.
Every time he pulls back, it’s just barely — just enough for a breath, a half-smile before he leans back in, brushing his lips over yours in a series of slow, unhurried kisses.
His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm as he murmurs, “This what you had in mind tonight?” His tone is low, teasing, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks.
You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, trailing to his cheek, then his jaw, leaving wet marks across his sun-kissed skin. “Maybe,” you reply, your voice playful, “Is that a problem?”
“Not even a little,” he whispers, his thumb brushing the curve of your bottom lip.
His fingers press lightly into your back, grounding you in place as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, the world narrowing to just the feeling of his mouth on yours and the gentle sway of the dock beneath you. The night stretches on around you, quiet and unhurried, as you lose yourselves in the soft rhythm of it all, the lake and stars bearing quiet witness.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
requests are open - let’s daydream!
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getmeoutofhell · 3 days ago
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HEYY!! i have a req! could you do where like reader dresses up as art for halloween? but like not during the day but when he gets home? like reader is dressed in black and white lingerie? like the top is a white lacy corset and the underwear is black and lacy too?? and when he comes home he just sees the reader and shit goes DOWN! if not its totally okay! make it as long as you want make it as short it doesn’t matter! whatever your heart desires! im sorry if this is also to much to ask for! but ily and take your time or dont do it! whatever youd prefer! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Art the Clown x F! reader smut
summary: reader decides to dress up as art for a surprise, but he had other plans.
warnings: smut!, cussing.
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it was 9pm, art should be home soon. you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before walking out yalls shared bedroom. you decided today you wanted to dress like him as a surprise. if we’re being technical, your outfit wasn’t exactly like his. it was a lingerie version. before he got home you had also cleaned up the house (basically cleaning up after him as usual). you and art have been together for some time now, meaning yalls anniversary is coming up soon, so you thought now would be the perfect time.
you hear the door downstairs creak open, indicating art’s finally home. you miss him every second he’s away from you. you bought him a phone, to text him while he’s away, and not even a week later he broke it. you told him not to put his phone in the bad of sharp objects, but of course he has to be stubborn and do everything his way all the time. you watch art as he shuts the door and places his bag on the side before stripping out of his clown shoes. he must be really tired to take off his shoes right as he enters the house, it’s rare for him to do that. he then grabs his air horn and starts to abuse it, it’s his way of letting you know he’s home. “hi baby! i have a surprise for you but you have to close your eyesss.” he immediately complies and covers his eyes with hands as you walk down the stairs. you tell him no peaking before guiding him to the living room couch, having him take a seat on the sofa. you can see him smiling due to how high his cheeks are raised, making you smile at him. he’s so cute when he’s not out killing, but his evil side also attracts you in a way.
“okay are you ready?” you ask, placing your hands over arts. he nods like a small school boy, eager to see what his surprise is. you start to count down from 3. “3…2…1…open!” he opens his eyes before looking you up and down with the biggest grin known to man. he starts to clap his hands and toot his horn and the sight of you. “i’m you, kinda.” he loves it!! that’s good, maybe it’ll make him not so sleepy. when all of sudden, he stops clapping and his face goes blank. you step back slowly, confused on his sudden change of emotions. you know art is a ticking time bomb, one minute he’s happy the next he’s pissed off and you don’t know why. as you were about to ask him what’s wrong, he gets up from the couch standing directly in front of your face. you feel his hot breath against your nose as he looks down at you. in moments like these, you feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. what if he decides to just bash your fucking brains in, not caring about you or anything anymore. not that he cares about anything right now anyway, but still. he places his left hand on your cheek. your eyes never left his face. you take notice in his facial features, noticing his wrinkles around his eyes and his blonde eyelashes, his little black hat that he always wears on his head. he was handsome when he was serious, but also he was deadly.
he out of nowhere suddenly grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you let out a scream. “art!! what the fuck!” you’re then taken upstairs to y’all’s shared room, as he throws you on the bed. he takes this chance to guide his hands down to your legs, before spreading them open for him. art has this problem where he randomly gets horny, but i guess you did wear the costume on purpose or whatever…but that’s not important right now. you take a look at arts pants, seeing a boner forming. i guess dressing up as him did work. you can’t help but crack a smirk at that. you’ve been waiting all damn day for this moment, so why not enjoy every bit of it. art then starts kissing you up your neck, you feel him leaving hickeys or at least trying too anyway. you slightly moan feeling his tongue slide over your delicate skin. art takes advantage of this, sliding his hand inside of your panties, immediately attaching his ring and minder finger to your swollen clit. “oh!”
you then put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper to his costume and unzipping it. “baby, let me take this off of you.” he ignores your request by pressing his fingers against your clit harder. a couple minutes later and you’re on the edge of your first orgasm of the day. “baby, i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” he looks at you and cracks that certain smile that lets you know he might stop at any given moment. you beg him not to, wanting to let your orgasm ride out. he finally rolls his eyes and let’s you cum all over his fingers. it feels so good, you can’t describe how much pleasure he makes you have. someone so cruel and sick like him has your toes curling and back arching. it’s a blessing and a curse. he slowly removes his hand from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he shoves them in, tasting your wetness on his tongue. he acts like you’re some sort of drug, he’s addicted to your pussy, it’s his favorite dessert after a long hard day.
his head somehow was now deep between your legs, licking up your pussy lips. the way his tongue dances on your clit makes you think he needs it. he acts like he does. your head was thrown back into the bed, and it felt so fucking good you couldn’t even moan properly. black and white face paint spread all over your inner thighs, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was cumming all over his face. “fuck!” you started grinding over his wet mouth, feeling your second orgasm approaching by the second. it was getting to much to the point where your legs started to shake like no other. what type of spell does he have on you? how does he know how to make you cum so fucking fast? you know you have no answers to those questions. you moan his name like a chant, as you finally let yourself go for the second time. your body couldn’t take it, you were so sensitive and he knew that.
as you’re trying to calm down from your orgasm, art didn’t even give you the time to before he lined his cock up with your entrance. “baby, i can’t take all of this at once.” once again, he ignored you and slide right in. your eyes had a mind of their own as they rolled in the back of your skull. his dick was so good, he’s fucks you like his life depends on it. he knew exactly where your g spot was and always abused that spot each chance he gets. you loved when he marked you as his, the way his cum filled you to the brim and you watched it drip out of you. “yes baby, give it to me! harder!” you moan his name again as skin on skin could be heard from everywhere, his balls slapping your ass. not to long later you feel art slow down his pace, telling you he’s about to cum. you always want him to cum inside so you bring him closer to you than he was already. arts legs started shaking against you. you’re cumming. it’s uncontrollable at this point, feeling your body go limp under him.
you wonder, does he actually know how much you mean to him. does he feel the same way?
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hope this was to your liking!! let me know if you enjoyed :)
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aquaticmercy · 2 days ago
Text
Waste a Moment / Part 6
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.
Requested by :  @remoony
Word count : 2.7k
Note : I am a sucker for slow burn, I apologise. Best friend!Yelena is in this one! Enjoy! (I’m still uploading every other day!)
Series Masterlist
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“Live Wire”
Thursday.
Rejoining the training sessions was… something.
It felt strange, like stepping into a role that was made for you, if only you were better. 
You knew (or at least everyone told you) that you were a part of this team, that you were once strong and capable. But now you couldn’t recall why or how.
The familiar scent of the training facility, the clang of metal, the faint buzz of conversation from otherworldly superheroes— it felt like a stage, and you were just an actor. 
Every step forward felt like the foundation beneath you would crumble any second. The memories of missions and battles shared with these people were just another fog you couldn’t seem to see through. 
The visits from your teammates, your friends, were nice. They just didn’t help. 
The memories weren't coming back, so they were never gonna help.
But you weren’t here to dwell on the gaps in your mind— you were here to train and fight.
Bucky and Clint took the lead in helping you regain your strength, your muscle memory, and your instincts. They started with the basics: hand-to-hand combat, endurance sessions, and weapons training. 
I should be able to do this with my eyes closed, you told yourself. 
The reality was far more frustrating.
You found yourself stumbling over things that should come naturally. A punch that should have landed easily got lost in the air. A knife that once felt like an extension of your arm now felt slippery in your grip. 
You missed, you faltered. 
Each time you failed, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered: You’re not the hero you used to be. You are not who they say you were.
Every mistake seemed to put a distance between who you were and who you are now. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand answers from your fractured memory. But no matter how hard you pushed yourself, the pieces never came back together.
And yet, Bucky was patient.
You weren’t blind to the soft and protective looks he gave you.
“You’re doing great,” he said after a particularly gruelling session. He handed you a towel as you sat on the bench, panting in short breaths and dripping with sweat.
Your brows furrowed. “I missed half my shots, Buck. That’s not great.”
He crouched down in front of you, holding your hand in ressurance. “It’s only your first day.” 
Friday.
The second day felt a little less foreign, though the frustration was still there. You walked into the training room with muscles sore from yesterday’s efforts, but there was a quiet determination there now.
Clint was already there, arms crossed after you took a short water break. He gave you a small, reassuring nod. “Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice warm.
You nodded.
The drill began, and while you still missed more than you hit, something felt different today. You were far from perfect, but every punch and every kick felt a little sharper. 
Wednesday.
It wasn’t long until you began to see real progress. The hits landed more frequently, your stance more grounded, your reflexes sharper. 
This morning, during an intense sparring session, you felt everything click into place. The sound of fists meeting flesh, the heavy breaths, the rhythm of footwork— all of it felt like a dance you once knew all the steps to. 
Then it happened.
With a swift motion, you knocked Bucky off balance. His eyes widened briefly in surprise as he stumbled back, hitting the mat with a soft thud. 
For a moment, you stared at him, stunned, your hands still raised in a defensive position. 
“Did I just—”
Bucky looked up at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a rare sight of pure joy that made your heart skip. “You did,” he chuckled, brushing himself off as he stood. 
A wide grin spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race. 
You had not believed Clint when he said muscle memory would kick in eventually, but now you might.
Friday.
Over the week, you started throwing yourself deeper into training. At times, it bordered on obsession. The confusion, the gaps in your memory, they hurt in a way you couldn’t quite explain, so you drowned yourself in the physical pain of training to distract yourself.
Working with Rhodey and Bruce became your daily escape. 
Together, they taught you new tactics and strategies, methods that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. 
They were cautious at first, as if handling fragile glass. But when you kept pushing, they began to push back, giving you a challenge they knew you were ready for. 
You noticed the shift in their eyes— recognition, even respect.
Each combat session left you drenched in sweat and aching everywhere, but there was a satisfaction in the exhaustion. 
It gave you purpose.
Monday.
After a particularly gruelling training session, you collapsed onto the edge of the mat. Sweat dripped from your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Every muscle in your body welt like it was on fire, reminding you just how much work it took to push past the limits of your body and mind. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rhodey heading your way. With a half smile, he tossed a towel to you. 
"You're starting to look like the old you," he teased encouragingly.
You smiled softly, wiping the sweat from your face. "I don’t feel like her yet," you admitted.
It was true. The person you once were seemed so distant, like a ghost you couldn’t quite reach. “I don't think I ever will.” You said. “Not entirely.”
Rhodey sat down beside you, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. 
"You don’t have to be," he said, "If anything, you’re better." 
Better. Could that really be true? 
Friday.
You were in the middle of a heated sparring session with Yelena. Like always, she wasn’t going easy on you. Her precise movements kept you on your toes. She pushed you to your limits, and that was exactly what you needed.
Every dodge, every counterattack she made was technically perfect, and you had to stay extra focused just to keep up.
She ducked under one of your punches, twisting her body smoothly as she lashed out with a quick kick aimed at your ribs. But this time, you saw it coming. 
You blocked the strike with your arm, feeling the force of the impact reverberate in your bones. Without hesitation, you swept low, catching Yelena off-guard. Her feet left the ground as she fell hard onto the mat.
For a second, she stared up at you in surprise.
Then, she broke into laughter. 
“Maybe you are back,” she said between chuckles, the happiest you’ve seen her since you returned back to training.
You couldn’t help but smile as you reached down to offer her a hand. "Maybe," you said, pulling her to her feet.
She was beaming at you.
She was proud of you.
Yelena dusted herself off. “You used to do that move all the time,” she said absentmindedly. “It always caught me off guard.”
You tried to search for the memory she described, but there was only emptiness where it should have been.
Your smile faltered. “I… I don’t remember that,” you admitted quietly.
Yelena’s eyebrows softened.
“Look,” Yelena said, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I’m not going to get all sentimental on you, but you’re still kicking my ass. That’s a good sign.” 
You managed a small laugh, shaking your head. “I guess so.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t just a teasing grin this time— it was softer, more understanding. “Besides, who needs the old stuff when we can make better memories?”
Her optimism was contagious. You found yourself nodding, though the ache in your chest hadn’t entirely disappeared. 
Yelena glanced at you. “What do you say we grab some lunch? I can remind you of all the stories you’ve conveniently forgotten.”
You laughed, the sound coming easier now. “I’m in.”
Lunch with Yelena started off light and easy. You both sat in a small diner, the kind of place with cosy booths and mismatched mugs. For the first time in a while, you felt a little more relaxed. The sparring session had left you tired, but pleasantly so. 
“So, do you remember the time I convinced you to try those disgusting energy bars Natasha used to swear by?” Yelena started, a sly grin spreading across her face as she picked at her food. “You gagged so hard you nearly threw up.”
You blinked, trying to dig into a memory again, but it came up blank. “I… can’t say I do,” you said with an apologetic shrug, though her laughter made you smile, despite the emptiness.
“It’s fine,” Yelena waved it off. “Just trust me, you looked ridiculous.” Her grin widened, enjoying the memory enough for both of you.
Yelena launched into a couple more stories, trying to paint you vivid pictures of missions and moments that felt so far away. You could hear the fondness in her voice as she spoke, you could see the gleam in her eyes when she talked about how you used to bicker with her over ridiculous things, like the right way to disarm someone or who was faster at sneaking through security. Of course she claimed she was always right.
It made you feel… connected, even if the memories were missing. It gave you hope that maybe, you could rebuild these relationships from the ground up. 
Just as you started to feel more settled, Yelena’s tone shifted ever so slightly. She leaned back, her voice casual.
“So,” she began slowly, “how’s it going with Bucky? I heard you’re still staying with him.”
It seemed to come out of nowhere. 
You blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. Brushing it off as bluntness, you quickly recovered.
The warmth in your voice was unmistakable. “He’s been incredible.”
Yelena raised an eyebrow, her fork pausing mid-air. “Incredible?” 
There was something about her tone—something you couldn’t quite place—but you didn’t think too much of it. Instead, you nodded, your mind drifting back to Bucky. 
“He’s sweet,” you continued, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Caring.” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don’t think I’d be managing as well as I have without him.”
Yelena’s gaze didn’t move. If anything, her eyes seemed to narrow slightly.
“Interesting,” she murmured, more to herself than to you.
You didn’t catch the shift in her demeanour, too lost in your own thoughts about Bucky. But Yelena’s mind was racing, almost as quickly as her heart. 
She knew Bucky well. 
She had seen him around you before your memory loss, had seen the way he’d acted toward you— distant, cold, even cruel at times. 
Bucky had always been in love with you; that had always been obvious to Yelena. But he had never let himself get close to you. He didn’t think he deserved you, didn’t think he was worthy of anything or anyone good in his life. 
Yelena had watched as he pushed you away time and time again, putting up walls whenever you got too close. She’d seen the way he kept you out, how he said things that were hurtful things that had made you question whether he even liked you at all. 
Yelena remembered that night with perfect clarity. 
It had been the night before everything changed— before the mission that took your memories.
She could still see the way you looked when you knocked on her apartment door that night— tired, heartbroken. Your knock had been soft, hesitant, like you didn’t really want to be there but had nowhere else to go. 
Yelena had opened the door to find you standing there, looking like a shell of yourself.
“He said he didn’t want my company.” Your voice had been shaky, small, barely above a whisper. “Bucky said he felt like he couldn’t breathe around me.”
Yelena had rolled her eyes, more out of frustration with Bucky than anything else. 
“Boys,” she had muttered under her breath, motioning for you to come inside, not knowing then that this was the last time she would see you like this—the last time you’d even remember the pain he had caused.
You had slumped down onto her couch, hands trembling slightly as you wiped your eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. 
She had seen this pattern before. 
Bucky pushed you away, lashed out, cutting himself off from you just when you were trying to get close. 
“I don’t know why he does this,” you had said, your voice cracking. “All I do is try. All I ever do is fucking try, and he just… he just hates me. I just want him to at least tolerate me. We work together, don't we?”
That had gotten to Yelena the most—that wounded look in your eyes, the disbelief in your voice. 
You had slumped back further into the couch. “I swear,” you had muttered that day, voice thick with exhaustion and anger. “I’m not gonna fucking try anymore. I’m done.”
Yelena hadn’t known what to say back then. Part of her had wanted to tell you to forget about him, to let Bucky sort out his own mess, but she’d known you too well. She’d seen the way you looked at him—the way you cared deeply, despite everything. 
She had settled for sitting beside you in silence. 
She had never imagined that the next day, everything would spiral out of control—that the mission you went on would end with you in a hospital bed, your mind wiped clean of so much of what made you you. 
And now, watching you across the table, smiling so easily as if Bucky had always been this kind version of himself, Yelena felt that same frustration.
She wanted to tell you what he’d done, how he had pushed you away—hurt you. But looking at you now, seeing the way you spoke about him with admiration, Yelena bit her tongue. She couldn’t destroy that peace for you.
Not yet. 
But what is this?
Bucky was suddenly different? You were telling her that he was sweet and caring? That he was doting on you? It didn’t make sense. Why was Bucky suddenly so attentive, so affectionate? What changed? 
Now that you didn’t remember, why was he this perfect version of himself, the one you had always wanted him to be? 
Yelena couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. 
Was Bucky taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t remember the way he’d treated you before? 
Yelena took a deep breath. She offered you a small, tight smile, masking the anger bubbling beneath her skin. 
She would confront Bucky eventually, but she would give him time to come clean on his own. 
But she wouldn’t let him rewrite the past just because you couldn’t remember it. 
Not when it was her best friend.
Not when it was you.
-to be continued…
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mynicosensesaretingling · 2 days ago
Note
Hii, can I ask an enemy to lovers with Franco Colapinto?
It’s kinda more open ended than I intended it to be but if you want ( or anyone else is interested) I can try to make a bigger story out of this!! 💓
Hope you enjoy it !
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——
You had always found Franco Colapinto insufferable. From the very moment you joined the paddock, there was something about his smug grin and wild curls that got under your skin. He was talented—there was no denying that—but his cockiness drove you crazy. The two of you were always at odds, a rivalry fueled by every glance, every sarcastic comment thrown your way.
And, naturally, you’d been paired with him for media duties today.
“You know,” Franco said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually as he glanced over at you, “you don’t always have to look like you want to punch me. We’re just here to talk about the race. Smile, maybe?” You rolled your eyes, the movement almost hurting from how much you’ve been doing it lately. Pinching your nose, you adjusted your jacket as you waited for the interview to begin. “I’m not sure what’s more painful, Franco, sitting through this interview or pretending to like you.”
The driver chuckled, clearly amused by your sharp tone. “Ouch. Come on, I’m not that bad.” You almost snorted at that, “Yeah, you kind of are.”
Franco pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.” His lips were pulling into a smirk as he shrugged his shoulders.
Before you could respond, the interviewer called for you both to step forward. The questions came quickly, most of them focused on the upcoming race. But every time Franco answered, he made sure to include a little jab at you, something subtle, something that made your blood boil just a bit more.
“We’ve got a lot of good drivers out there,” he said smoothly, glancing at you with a teasing smirk, “some of them a bit too competitive, though. Right, (Y/N)?”
You gave him a forced smile, hiding the urge to snap back. “Just trying to keep up with you, Franco.”
The interview wrapped up, and as soon as the cameras were off, you spun around to leave. But before you could storm off, Franco grabbed your arm gently, stopping you. “Hey, wait,” he said, his voice surprisingly softer now, losing the playful edge. “You’re always so quick to walk away.”
“Because I don’t want to deal with your crap,” you shot back, but there was less venom in your words than before. Something about the way he was looking at you made you pause. For a moment, there was silence. Franco’s grip on your arm loosened, and he let his hand drop to his side, his gaze lingering on you.
“I didn’t mean to get under your skin..I mean I kind of did but-” he admitted, his expression a little more serious. “I just—maybe I like pushing your buttons because… you’re one of the only people who pushes back.” You blinked, not expecting that. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I think—maybe—I admire you. A little too much.”
Your heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. “Admire me? You’ve spent the past few months making my life miserable.”
“Yeah, well,” Franco shrugged, his smirk returning, but it was softer now, almost playful. “Maybe I wasn’t handling it the right way.” You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of where this was going. “So, what? You’ve been acting like a jerk because… you admire me?”
“Maybe more than admire,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. The way he looked at you—like he wasn’t joking anymore, like he actually meant it—sent a strange warmth through your chest.
The air between you shifted, the tension that had always been there suddenly taking on a different meaning. Maybe it wasn’t hate after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.
“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though there was no heat in your words anymore.
Franco stepped a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe. But you don’t hate me as much as you think you do, do you?” You stared at him, eyes searching his face as your heart was racing in your chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe, the rivalry had been hiding something else all along.
With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you finally let your guard down, just a little. “I guess we’ll find out.” Franco grinned, and for the first time, you didn’t find it annoying.
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jburrgf · 3 days ago
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DAYTONA
“When the smoke in the air rolls like a wave it reminds me of that ocean view, and I swear that I won’t, but when it gets cold I think of Daytona and I think about you.”
pairing: hs reader/fan reader! x ahs joe!/bengals joe!
summary: summer love, high school love, one night stand, reuning after a long time, fan x famous player.
description: you went to bengals game at miami with your father, and find out on the same night that you’re staying at the same hotel as joe burrow: your one night stand crush from when you were 17.
The day of the game was something out of a dream for my dad. It wasn’t just any game—it was the Bengals against the Dolphins, and Joe Burrow was leading Cincinnati’s offense.
 My dad had been a die-hard Bengals fan for as long as I could remember. We’d spent countless Sundays in front of the TV, analyzing every play, cheering, and sometimes throwing pillows at the screen when the game didn’t go our way.
Today, though, the energy was different. The Hard Rock Stadium buzzed with excitement as the teams took the field. We’d arrived early, walking into the stadium with our jerseys on, my dad proudly wearing his Burrow jersey. I’d gone for something a little more neutral—after all, I didn’t have the same emotional investment in the Bengals, but I loved being here with him.
The first quarter passed in a blur. My dad was on the edge of his seat, muttering under his breath every time the Dolphins defense pressed Joe. "Come on, Joe, you’ve got this," he grumbled, his eyes glued to the field. I always thought that was funny. My dad is a born and raised 70’s type of guy from Miami, and still, he always cheered for the Bengals. My mom, born and raised in Tennessee, got the same taste as my father when they married almost thirty years ago. 
Joe looked calm, focused, his movements deliberate as he assessed the defense before the snap.
I chalked it up to the overwhelming atmosphere of the stadium—the lights, the noise, the fans. Still, I found myself watching Joe closely, like there was something more to it.
When the Bengals scored their first touchdown, the crowd erupted, and my dad leaped to his feet, cheering at the top of his lungs. "That’s my guy!" he shouted, clapping and throwing his arm around me. I laughed, more at his enthusiasm than anything, and joined in the celebration.
By the time the game ended, the Bengals had secured a hard-fought victory, and my dad was beaming. As we made our way out of the stadium, he was already talking about the next game he wanted to attend, but all I could think about was the odd sense of déjà vu that had been nagging at me.
Back at the hotel, my dad was ready to crash for the night, the excitement of the game having worn him out. "You’re not tired?" he asked as I lingered in the doorway.
"Not really. I might head down to the cafeteria, see if I can grab something to eat," I said, my stomach growling at the thought of a late-night snack.
He nodded, already halfway to sleep. "Alright, don’t stay up too late.” I laughed, as I’m still 10 years old.
I slipped out of the room and made my way down the quiet hallway, the cool, sterile air of the hotel soothing after the heat and noise of the stadium. The lobby was nearly empty, the faint hum of the late hour settling over the place. I made my way to the small cafeteria, hoping it was still open this late.
To my relief, the lights were on, and I stepped inside, scanning the shelves for something to eat. I grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water, goind to check out and pay right after, and I turned around to find a place to sit.
And that’s when I saw him.
At first, I didn’t recognize him. He was sitting alone in the corner, his head bent over a cup of coffee. But then, as if sensing my gaze, he looked up. His eyes met mine, and suddenly, it hit me like a wave crashing on the shore.
Joe Burrow.
The realization came slowly, like a puzzle falling into place. I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. Could it really be him? The same guy I’d watched out on the field today? The same guy that my dad loves like his own son?
He stood up, and the casual way he moved, the familiar way he looked at me, made my heart skip a beat. There was no mistaking it now.
"You Still wear that, Y/N?" His voice was soft, as if he wasn’t entirely sure it was me. Why is he calling my name?
I stared at him, stunned. "Joe?" My voice came out in a whisper, like I was afraid saying his name out loud might break the spell. “Wear what?” I shook my head, still trying to make sense of it all. Why is he talking to me like that? He knows me from where? My words felt clumsy, my thoughts still spinning. I hadn’t even realized he’d know who I was. I mean, why would he?
I hesitated for a moment, looking at my clothes. It was the Athens High School sweatshirt that a guy that I met in Daytona gave me once. And then, realization hitted me. Ohio Joe, the shy handsome man that I had the most perfect night ever when I was seventeen years. Joe, Joey, blond hair, blue eyes, shy smile. The same Joe. I crossed the small space between us, still reeling from the shock of seeing him here, of all places, after all these years.
Joe gestured to the seat across from him. "Do you want to sit?"
As we sat there, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was the same, but different. Older, obviously. More confident. There was something about him now that I hadn’t noticed back then—a calmness, a self-assurance that came with time and experience. But he still had that same smile, the one that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I just couldn't believe it. Was Ohio Joe an American football player? I watched his game tonight!
I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I settled on the most obvious question. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled softly, glancing around the empty cafeteria. "Team’s staying at the hotel. You?"
"My dad and I came down for the game. He’s a big Bengals fan."
Joe’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded. "That’s awesome. Did he enjoy the game?"
I smiled. "He loved it. He’s probably already planning the next one."
We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the air between us thick with unspoken memories. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about it too—Daytona Beach, the night we met—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was.
And then, as if reading my mind, Joe leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching mine. "Do you remember that night? Daytona Beach?"
My breath caught in my throat. Of course, I remembered. How could I forget? But hearing him say it out loud, acknowledging that night all these years later, felt surreal.
"I do," I said softly, my heart pounding in my chest. "It feels like forever ago."
Daytona Beach, Florida, 10th of May 2014.
It was our high school graduation trip. Daytona was only a couple hours away from where I lived, but it felt like a different world. We had spent all year planning it, dreaming about it—one last hurrah before we all went off in different directions, scattered to the wind. College, jobs, wherever life would take us. 
The first few days had been a blur of beaches, sunburns, and bad decisions, but on the last night, something changed. 
We found ourselves at a crowded beachside bar (that happened to be an alcohol free bar), packed with people our age—locals, tourists, whoever happened to be passing through. That’s where I first saw him. Joe was leaning against the bar, his hair tousled from the salty air, a drink in his hand, looking out over the crowd like he didn’t quite belong there. He was quiet, observant, the kind of guy who didn’t need to be in the center of attention to command it.
He was just another face in a sea of unfamiliar ones. But there was something about him that drew me in, something I couldn’t explain. Before I knew it, I was walking over to him.
"You look like you’re not from around here," I said, my voice raised over the thumping music.
He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not."
"Where’re you from?" I asked, leaning against the bar next to him.
"Ohio. Here for a football convention with my team," he replied, his eyes flicking back to the crowd for a moment before settling on me again. "You?"
"Daytona. I’m local. Well, sort of. Here for graduation week."
He nodded, like he understood what that meant, even though we were from completely different worlds. We talked for a while—about the convention, the beaches, what came next for both of us. Joe told me he was headed to college in a few months to play football. I told him I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet, but I had a few options. 
There was something easy about talking to him. It wasn’t forced or awkward, like it sometimes was with guys I didn’t know well. Joe had this quiet confidence, like he didn’t need to impress anyone. He was just… himself.
As the night went on, we wandered away from the bar, down toward the beach. The sand was still warm from the day’s heat, and the moonlight glittered off the water as we walked, the waves crashing softly in the distance. 
I don’t know how long we walked before we stopped, standing at the edge of the water, our feet sinking into the wet sand. 
"You ever feel like you’re at the edge of something, but you’re not sure what it is?" I asked, staring out at the horizon.
Joe glanced at me, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. All the time."
We were both about to start new chapters of our lives, and the uncertainty of it all hung between us like a cloud. It felt like everything was about to change, and we didn’t know what that would look like.
"Do you ever get scared of what comes next?" I asked, my voice softer now.
Joe shrugged, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "Sometimes. But I figure you just take it as it comes, you know?"
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I knew. I was scared—of college, of leaving home, of everything that came with growing up. But standing there with Joe, it didn’t seem so terrifying. 
“I can’t see my life away from here” I said again, nervously. “I feel like my anchor is here, and that my boat will never sail.”
“Honestly, if I lived in a place like that, I wouldn’t want to leave either.” He responded with a smile. “I mean, I understand you. It's different when you feel lost.”
I looked at the boy, still not understanding. What did he knew about being lost?
“I hear from everyone that I’m not good enough. From everyone you can imagine.” He completes his own thought. “If you’re not your number one follower, no one else will be.”
I nodded, moving closer to Joe, sitting on the sand. The ocean waves were breaking in front of me, the sea was rough in Daytona today. The magnificent sunset was setting right in front of us.
I got up and took a photo of the sun with my cell phone. I let out a smile, and felt the warmth of Joey's body behind me. “Now let me take your pic.”
Before I could even challenge him, the blonde already had his cell phone in his face. I smiled at the small rear camera, adjusting myself for a pose.
“you looked beautiful” He commented, with a shy smile
“My turn to take your picture.”
I practically pushed Joey into the sea, positioning him. Joe was the most handsome guy I've ever seen in my entire life. And when he laughed at the camera, I was more sure that yes, he was beautiful. Lostly beautiful, intellectually beautiful, my kind of beautiful.
"Don't forget to remind me to give you my number." He began to say, putting his cell phone in his pocket. "I wanna all these photos."
I nodded, starting to walk along the beach sand. We were silent for countless minutes, but this wasn't a nightmare. Joe and I were quiet, but our words didn't need to be spoken out loud.
We walked together down the beach, our footsteps quiet in the soft sand. The night was peaceful, the sound of the waves filling the space between us, but I could tell Joe was nervous. Every now and then, he glanced over at me, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.
"So, Ohio, huh?" I broke the silence, nudging him playfully with my shoulder. "What’s it like up there?"
He smiled, looking down at his feet as he walked. "Cold, mostly. It’s not like this."
I laughed softly. "I bet. Daytona’s kind of… the opposite."
Joe chuckled too, but it was quiet, like he was still getting used to talking to me. "Yeah. I guess you’re used to this, though. The beach and all."
"Pretty much," I said, my eyes drifting out toward the water. "But I don’t know… it’s different tonight. Doesn’t feel like home. It feels like something else."
Joe didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought maybe I’d said something weird. But then he spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I get that. It’s kinda like… like we’re in a bubble, you know? Like this is a different world for just one night."
I nodded, surprised by how perfectly he’d put it. "Exactly."
He glanced over at me again, his eyes flicking down to the sand before meeting mine. "So, uh… what comes next for you? After this?"
I shrugged. "College, I guess. I’m still figuring it out."
"You nervous about it?" he asked, his tone gentle, like he genuinely wanted to know.
"A little," I admitted. "I mean, it’s a big change, you know? Everything’s about to be different."
Joe nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yeah. It’s scary."
I glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. Most guys would’ve tried to brush it off, act like they had it all together. But not Joe. He was quiet, but he wasn’t afraid to admit when something scared him. I liked that about him.
"You’re going to college to play football, right?" I asked, remembering what he’d told me earlier.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little shy about it. "I mean, I hope so. I’ve got a spot, but, you know… you never really know until you’re there."
"You’re gonna be great," I said without even thinking. "I can tell."
He glanced at me, surprised. "You think so?"
"Definitely," I said, smiling at him. "You’ve got that look about you. Like you’re going to do big things."
Joe blushed, looking down at the sand again. "Thanks. That means a lot."
We walked in silence for a little while after that, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. There was something about Joe that made me feel like I could say anything, like he wouldn’t judge me for it. He was quiet, sure, but he was listening. Really listening.
Somehow, we ended up sitting in the sand, the conversation flowing as easily as the waves. We talked about everything and nothing, the kind of deep, late-night conversation that only happens when you know you’ll never see the other person again. There was something liberating about that—knowing that whatever we said, whatever happened, wouldn’t follow us past this night.
It was almost seven when we returned to the bar. Now completely quiet, Joe used all his awkward teenage charm to sneak into the bar’s kitchen. Taking advantage of the moment, I followed him inside.
"I’ve been sneaking into the bar’s kitchen for about three nights now," he explained to me, opening one of the freezers and grabbing a huge tub of ice cream. Joe handed me one of the clean spoons sitting on the counter.
We sat down next to each other on the floor, in front of the freezer.
“Tell me getting to know Daytona has been worth it, please,” I asked, taking a spoon full of ice cream.
“I haven’t seen the whole city yet. But you’re definitely the best tourist spot,” he said with a shy smile, hoping his line had the effect he wanted. “I’m glad I met you,” Joe said sincerely. “I usually get really nervous around beautiful girls.”
“Looking this handsome? Impossible!” I replied.
“Hey, I’m serious. I hardly ever feel comfortable around people my age.”
His hand found mine at that moment. I smiled, looking into his eyes. Joe leaned in close and kissed me. The kiss happened so naturally, I barely realized it was happening until it was too late. One moment, we were sitting side by side, our shoulders brushing against each other. The next, Joe was leaning in, his lips soft against mine, tasting faintly of salt, chocolate ice cream, and whatever drink he’d been sipping on earlier.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The sounds of the waves, the distant music from the bar, everything faded away until it was just the two of us, lost in each other.
Joe's hand found my neck, pulling me closer. One of my hands rested on his leg for support, while our tongues were intertwined—in my mouth, in his, everywhere.
We pulled back when I ran out of breath. Red-faced, hair messy, and completely dazed by what had just happened, I broke away from the kiss with the biggest smile on my face. Joe wasn’t much different from me. Sweaty, his short hair tousled, and grinning widely.
“You taste like tutti-frutti candy,” he remarked. I laughed, giving him a playful slap. “It’s true! I swear!”
Silence settled over us after that. Joe and I sat holding hands, savoring the last bites of ice cream that rested on the bowl on my lap.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he told me, the smile fading from his face. “I think I’ll miss you.”
“You barely know me, Joe,” I said, with a slight pause between his words and mine. Joe pressed his lips together and shrugged.
“I don’t care. I’ll miss you anyway.”
The lights in the bar began to turn off, and that’s when we realized we probably had to head back to the hotel now. We got up from the floor, put away what we’d used, and washed our hands. We left together through the back door of the bar.
“One more thing, before I forget…”
I couldn’t respond, because before I knew it, I was pressed against the back wall of the bar. The alley was dark, damp, and smelled of the sea. But none of that mattered anymore, because I felt Joe’s hands on my waist, pinning me against the wall, all six-foot-three and almost 200 pounds of him right against me, and I had never been so happy.
My fingers threaded through his hair, feeling it prickle my skin in a good way. I smiled, feeling breathless again, but unlike last time, when I pulled away, I leaned back in a few moments later.
I don’t exactly remember when we started walking again, but I know Joe’s hand was in the back pocket of my shorts. I was wearing his gray sweatshirt with “Athens High School” written in dark green.
The walk to my hotel, a cluster of stilted beach houses, wasn’t long. It was a bit farther down the same street. When I reached the little staircase leading to my place, my friends were all sitting on the porch, drinking and chatting.
“Look who’s coming back!” Tracey said.
I flipped her off, then turned to Joey. He was smiling, watching me, and when I looked at him, I blushed completely. How could I like someone this much in such a short time?
“This is for you,” he said, handing me a piece of paper. I looked down, and “Joey B” was written in big letters. It was his phone number.
“Where’s your pen?” I asked, and he pulled out the pen he’d taken from the bar, from his pocket. “Sign my jacket.”
I said, turning my back to him. I felt Joe hesitate a bit before actually doing what I’d asked. His signature was now at my waist level. “It’s because I know you’re going to be famous someday. Then I can say I was your first fan who got an autograph.”
He let out a silly smile, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I will too,” I replied.
The blond leaned closer, left a kiss on my lips along with a smile. He smelled incredible, and my whole body felt numb, and I’d only known this boy for a few hours. How could this be happening?
“See you soon, Ohio Boy.”
“See you in my dreams, Daytona Girl.”
I went up the stairs after saying goodbye to Joe, without looking back. When I got to my friends, he was already gone. I sighed, feeling like a part of me had just walked away too.
Flashback Off.
Back in the present, I sat across from Joe in the quiet hotel cafeteria, the memory of that night hanging between us. He was watching me closely, waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge what we both knew.
"I remember," I said finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. "That night… Daytona Beach. I didn’t recognize you at first."
Joe smiled, but it was softer this time, almost wistful. "I figured you didn’t. It’s been a while."
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Yeah. It has."
We sat in silence for a moment, both of us lost in the memory of that night. It had been just one night—one perfect, fleeting moment in time. But somehow, it felt like more than that. Like it had always been more, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time.
"Why didn’t we keep in touch?" He asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
I looked down to my hands, a shadow passing over my face. "I don’t know. Maybe we thought it was easier that way. One night, no expectations, no strings. I lost your number some weeks after, too. Always scared of finding you again."
He looked down at his hands, his jaw tightening slightly. "I thought about it. A lot, actually. But I didn’t know if… I didn’t want to complicate things."
"Complicate things?" I echoed, frowning.
Joe’s eyes met mine, and I could see the vulnerability in them—the same vulnerability I’d seen that night on the beach. "You were starting a whole new life. I was starting mine. It felt like… maybe it was better to leave it as just that one night. Something simple. Something good."
His words made sense in a way, but they also left me feeling hollow. "Yeah," I said, though my voice was quieter now. "Maybe."
We sat there for a moment, the memory of that night hanging between us. There was no denying the connection we’d had back then, and now, sitting across from him, I felt it again. Stronger, more complicated, but still there.
"Let me give you my number this time." Joe says, and I let it go a smile on my face. Ït is true"
"Do you trust me with your number?" I asked him.
"If you didn't sell my autograph until today, yes, I trust you with my number." He said, alittle smile coming from his mouth.
I smiled at him and handed my phone to him. Joe got his phone number over there, and when he was ready again, I got my phone back. 
“I think it’s better If I get going.” I was the first one to get up from the table. Joe followed me. “I will text you when I wake up tomorrow.”
“Or you can do it today.” He said, simple.
“I'm gonna text you when I wake up tomorrow promise you.” I said. “Hope to see you somewhere else, Joey.”
I hadn’t expected to see him again. After all, it was just one night. He was from Ohio, I was from Daytona, and our lives were about to go in completely different directions, again. I walked down to my room, thinking about what just happened. It's true when people say that you know when you meet the love of your life, cause I felt that way.
I gave a look down to my sweatshirt, seeing the autograph that Joe gave to me years before today. I couldn't believe it. How could I never find that out? His name was literally there, right under my own nose.
i got into my room, and my dad was already sleeping on his twin bed. I left a smile, and went to do my skin care at the bathroom. I couldn't even finish washing my face, because somebody knocked on my door.
A  soft knock on the door.
My heart skipped as I turned, my hand hovering over the handle, not quite daring to believe it. My hand started to spin, and I felt out of breath. I know it as him — I could feel through the doors.
But as I opened the hotel door dragging my whole life on the edges of my hads, I saw him there, again, like a deja-vu.was—standing by the elevators, hands in his pockets again, that same shy look on his face. It was Joey.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet but steady.
I stopped in my tracks, surprised. "Hey. I didn’t think I’d see you again."
He didn’t say anything at first; he just stepped forward, his presence filling the doorway, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked as if he’d been wrestling with his thoughts, with everything left unsaid between us. And then, without another word, he reached up, gently brushing his hand along my jaw, his touch warm and grounding.
“I couldn’t just let it go again,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not this time.”
I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and I could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet determination that had brought him here. “Joe…” I began, but he didn’t give me a chance to finish.
In a single, careful movement, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, soft and tentative at first. But as I melted into the kiss, he pulled me closer, his hands settling on my waist as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. I could feel the years between us dissolving, the unspoken words, the moments we’d lost, all coming together in that one kiss.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, his breaths shallow, his gaze intense.
“I’m not going to let you go again,” he murmured, his voice raw, like a promise he’d been holding onto for years. “Not this time.”
I felt a shiver run through me at his words, the weight of them settling over us like a vow. All the years, the distance, the almost—they didn’t matter anymore. Right here, right now, it was just us.
I looked at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and relief. It was like all the years of wondering, all the what-ifs, had finally led us to this moment. I didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time, I felt like I didn’t have to have all the answers. All that mattered was that we were here, together.
"Then don’t," I whispered, leaning into him again. "Don’t let me go."
He smiled, his hand cupping my face as he pulled me in for another kiss. And in that moment, I knew that whatever happened, we were finally where we were meant to be.
146 notes · View notes
yaut-jaknowit · 1 day ago
Note
How bout a human woman saves a yautja after he got hurt pretty bad or something. Over time they get to know one another…one thing leads to another and the bang. But the male leaves not long after to return home, unknowingly leaving a bun in the oven…only that out possibly years after…
-🥤
Left Behind
Character: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 8895
Summary: A night that changed your life forever. You had to fight for survival and live to tell the tale. Ahtaal is saved only because of you. That leaves him in your debt. He heals you from wounds that will leave lasting scars. But he too leaves something else behind.
Author Note: I love the fact you call it 'bun in the oven'! Imagine saving a Yautja and then get the biggest dick down ever. Wish come true~.
Masterlist
Ao3
Blood burned through the skin on your arm. The pain a distant thought as you shoved the long spear into the chest of sickly, black monster. Black tendrils poured from its head. Four weirdly shaped mandibles. A long rigidly tail with a sharpened end made for stabbing. One that looked like it had crawled out of the depths of hell to come after anyone vulnerable. A demon in the flesh.
It almost looked like the beast you had protected a deadly blow from. But this thing… it was ten times worse.
The pain nearly grew to a point you couldn’t hold onto the spear for much longer. It slipped from your blood drenched hands. But, the point was still lodged deep into the chest of the screeching beast. You panted and backed away until the back of your foot met resistance. The creature you had just saved still lay on the ground, hopefully not dead. Or all of this would’ve been for naught.
Your arms stung with each passing moment, the pain mounting higher and higher. The adrenaline that once filled your system began to slowly deflate. You swallowed back the thick saliva in the back of your throat. Yet, not once did your eyes leave the beast as it backed away and clawed at the spear. Thankfully, it was barbed and refused to move from deep within it.
As if the life that once filled its body vanished in a second, it crumpled to the ground in a pile. A few twitches was all it gave before finally coming to still. Dead.
Everything hurt. Your chest heaved for air. Your mind tried to reel in every thought you had. Your heart thundered loud and clear in its bony cage. It took everything you had not to let your knees collapsed under your own weight. You slowly glanced at the down creature at your feet. His shoulder slowly rose and fell with each breath. A deep sigh of relief sounded from you.
Now, came a new problem. To move him. This place wasn’t safe. Other people would soon come. The government would easily snatch the two of you up in a heartbeat. One to silence you. He would become an experiment for whatever they wanted. You couldn’t have that. Not when he looks so sad in the state that he was in. You turned around and squatted at his side. A poke to his uninjured gave no results. Not even the next five. He was out cold.
This was unfortunately circumstances. He was at least seven feet tall and three times your weight easily. Deadweight was harder to move than someone giving some assistance.
With might and will, you used a tarp you had randomly found to hook under his arms. It was just strong enough to help you pull him through the foliage of the forest. After a hundred yards, you could no longer move. The exhaustion in your muscles, in your soul was far too deep. This all started this morning and it was deep into the night. The full moon shing ominously above the land. You collapsed harshly onto bruised knees and cut up palms. There was nothing more you could give to save him or yourself. You did what you could before the darkness consumed your vision and took away your conscious.
The gentle sway is the first thing you awoke to with a groggy groan. The crust in your eyes made it uncomfortable to open them. You rubbed it away with a shaky, weak arm before opening them.
Bright light blinded you from the first thing you saw. A groan tumbling out of your throat. Pain met you that same moment, racing up from your forearms. The rest of you throbbed with an ache that would take ten hot baths to finally chip away at it. You squinted through the sunlight and noticed a familiar red. Your hand reached up timidly and touched at the thick scales you could feel under your fingertips.
Big Red. The creature you had saved. You tilted your head back. He was facing forward, eyes hidden by the mandibles that covered half of his face. But the missing one was a familiar sight.
“Y-you’re al-ive,” you croaked out, voice harsh to even your own foggy ears. Your hand dropped down to your stomach, unable to hold up its own weight anymore. The grunt he made you felt it rather than heard it from his own mouth.
Your face cracked with a tiny grin. At least you hadn’t failed on that front while fighting something you didn’t know existed. A demon in the flesh. Your wrecked body trembled. A sight you hoped to never be face to face with again.
Through your blurry vision, he was marching quickly through the forest despite a noticeable limp to his gait. A table had been thrown at him, striking him direction on his shin when he jumped to block it. There wasn’t a loud crack of bone but it was possible it had only been fractured. You hummed and lazily drew patterns on his midriff, mind still foggy.
A rumbled vibrated through his chest and drew your attention to stop. That’s when the lightbulb above your head finally sprouted to life. Your lips pressed together while you looked away from him, eyes nearly bulging out. Heat flashed to life upon your cheeks.
Big Red moved across the forest, rarely taking breaks during the whole day. Only to stop at a creek and scoop water into his strangely constructed mouth. He would set you down and let you finally move around. It was hard at first, trying to get the blood flowing back in your limbs. Nor did your muscles want to listen. But, you did what you could and drank from the fresh creek. Anything to quench the dryness in your throat.
It was back to him carrying you in the bridle position and marching away. At points, you would take naps, needing the extra energy to recuperate from the days events.
At dusk, Big Red stopped and set you down. There was no creek or source of water. You had to lean heavily against the base of a tree with a shoulder. Your forearms were covered with scorch marks from the acidic blood that had landed on them. The pain from them was the only thing that kept you on your feet, giving you enough adrenaline to stay alert.
He limped away from you, leaving you behind. Fear gripped your heart that had taken you further into the forest only to abandoned you. After all you had- he stopped and pressed a button on the metal band that covered half of his forearm. You heard a hiss echo through the air and furrowed your brows.
Like a in a sci-fi movie, a large object revealed itself to your very eyes. Your jaw dropped when it came to mind it was a spacecraft. From Star Wars!
The creature came back over to you and easily scooped your weakened form up. Big Red carried you over where a ramp had come down. White steam came from the hydraulics in a dramatic manner. You tried to take everything. The information overload caused the pressure in your skull to tenfold. You groaned and curled up against his chest as if he’ll protect you from inward pain.
With your eyes closed, you missed all the important, interesting details no one has probably seen before. You whined and scrunched up your face as if that’ll push the pain away.
Warmth touched at your rear and brought you back to the present. You squinted and find yourself in a different room you couldn’t find a name for. Big Red had set you down on a table with many tools already on it. To which he was pushing off of the side to give you more room. He reached to the side and grabbed hold a box and set it down next to you. You watched as the box was open to reveal different items. None of them you could really figure out were for.
A moment of trust. It wasn’t like you could fight him in your circumstances. He could easily overpower you and subject you to whatever he wanted.
Instead, he grabbed some sort of gun with a need. You gulped at the size of the needle and strange blue liquid that filled the containment hanging off of the back. Either he didn’t notice or just ignored the fear gripping your heart. Big Red plunged the needle without hesitation into your shoulder. You grimaced at the slight pinched but otherwise, stayed still.
The needle was pulled free from your muscles and set off to the side. Next, he grabbed a white jar and untwisted the top. A sulfuric smell poured out of the jar. You gagged and used your shirt to cover your nose. “Oh my god, what is-is that?” you croaked out with disgust written all over your face.
Red stopped and tilted his head up. The golden mask on his features prevented you from seeing his true feelings.
“It is hurt,” he grumbled out, shocking you from hearing his voice for the first time. It wasn’t as deep as you thought but enough to send a tremble up the length of your spine. Your thoughts got you caught up in the moment before you shook them free. You cocked your head to the side. Hurt? Of course your arms hurt. They’ve been burned with acid.
White paste coated his fingertips before he slathered the burns in it.
The scream that curdled from your throat shocked him too. You jerked away and nearly slid off of the table before he caught you. Big Red forced you back onto the table and held you down. “Ooman! Calm! Calm. At ease,” his voice cut through the pain that burned through your veins. It was just enough to get you to finally focus on him again.
“I say it hurt,” he muttered then slowly let go of you when your muscles relaxed. Your body didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Not even enough adrenaline could keep you going.
A fiery glare was set ablaze on the big, dark red alien. “I thought you were saying if I was hurting!” you yelled at him, arms drawn up to your chest. In case he may go for a second round without asking first.
A huff came from underneath the metal mask. “Paste heals but… hurts.” The words didn’t come naturally to him. He struggled to find them but you understood what he was getting to.
“Well, do you have something that doesn’t hurt like a bitch?” you snarked at him, in hopes to find a nice soothing paste. Not the one that made you feel like you were stepping on hot coals.
“No. Just this.” Ah, he didn’t get the sarcasm that was thick in your voice. You sighed, face scrunched up again from the pain this caused you. “Let me?” Big Red held out a waiting hand, letting you have the choice to either get an infection or deal with more pain. A groan sounded from your tired form before you roughly set one forearm in his palm.
“Better warning next time,” you mumbled and tensed up. An agony you didn’t want to experience but it meant for your life to survive. Then, so be it.
It was a pain you’ve never felt before.
The healing process took half as long as you thought. A couple of months turned into only a month until Dai’stbaen, the big, red alien, deemed you healed enough. Even letting you stay longer just to make sure you had no lasting injuries.
Today would be your last night with him. Dai’stbaen said he would fly you back to your home before setting off home bound. The last time you would see the towering beast in all of his glory. And you felt heartbroken to see him leave. You wish for him to take you but couldn’t go through with the idea of leaving everything behind. Not your friends or family who had to be worried sick about you at this point.
Countless times, he had made you promise and even created a mark on your skin to ensure you wouldn’t tell his secret. To let the whole world know that aliens, the Yautjas, exist. Dai told you it was against his code to let you live but you had saved him. That was a higher offense to kill someone who had saved his life. So, he had to slip out of your bed that night and back into his ship. Where he flew off into the stars, to never be seen again.
The ache he left you made it difficult to walk the next few days. All the marks he left on you a remind of what he could make you feel. A distance feeling after the days go by without him there with you.
After the first week back home, you had lost your job, finally calmed down your family and friends, and was barely able to skim on past in your lonely apartment. It felt better when Dai’stbaen was there with you, even if it was just for that night.
Things for first month was difficult, even after you were able to pick up a job that was remote work. It paid well enough to keep a roof over your head and food in your stomach.
Well until you missed your period. That’s when your heart dropped down into the apartment below you.
You raced to the nearest Walgreens and picked up a test. The cashier gave you a certain expression at the distant look in your eyes. All of your thoughts were running rampant through your mind. It had to be impossible. Truly, it really had to be. He wasn’t human!
The first place you went to back home was in your bathroom, tearing open the package. Then, you stopped just shy of sitting down on the toilet. Your eyes looked at yourself in the mirror. The distraught in your features from the horror of the situation. It had to be from the stressfulness of the situation you had just survived from. That what it had to be. But… even while in his care on his spacecraft, you had been hit by your period. God, that freaked him out when he smelt the fresh blood. Which… in turn freaked you out learning he could smell it. Like a dog.
Your hands lowered the unopened test to the counter. No. You shook your head. No, this wasn’t real. This was happening because of stress. It finally caught up to you. Your head nodded. Yeah, that’s what it had to be. You placed the unopened pregnancy test back into the box and shoved it into a random drawer. That would be needed at a different time. Not now. Because it was impossible.
Until you missed a second period. Even then, you tried to push off that feeling that there was something wrong with you. It was from stress. New job, new duties, new scars, new life. Everything to create a hell storm to recuperate from. Of course your uterus wouldn’t want to put you through anymore stress than needed.
At the same time of the next month, going into the wintery months, not a drop of blood.
That night, after work, you stood in the bathroom, hands holding the unopened test again. Your hands shook while looking down at the package. Every part of your mind tried to reason with all the other excuses you’ve given before. Stress. Job. Nearly being killed. Scars. Each one circling through the turn style until they fell away.
Just get it over with.
In front of the mirror, you turned to the side and lifted up the front of shirt. Your brows furrowed. There was a little weight loss when you first returned, eating practically just meat and little greens. Now… was that a slight bulge in your stomach? You could feel yourself on the verge of crying.
A child. There couldn’t be a chance you were pregnant with the alien you had a one-night stand with. He wasn’t coming back. You would be left alone to take care of the child. Then, there’s the fact it would half alien! How would they look? More like you or Dai’stbaen. There would be no way for them to live a normal life of going to school or having friends. And yourself. A child who could never step out into the light.
For the first time in the last three months, you plopped down on the toilet and took the test.
Each passing second, each passing heartbeat worsened everything feeling swirling inside of you. Every thought ran wild.
There were two sides to the coin. The more logical side. A hybrid alien baby couldn’t be possible. Let alone on the only time you were with him. It didn’t matter the three or four times he knotted you. That was a surprise. Very pleasant. Yet, there was also the fact you weren’t having your period the last three months. Surely, your body should’ve figured itself out at this point.
As the test did its process, you paced through the tiny bathroom squeezed into your one bedroom apartment. One of your hands ran through your locks, messing up the strands. It was all you could do to stop looking at the test every two seconds.
Two minutes passed until you took another glance and stopped in your tracks. Plus. A plus sign. You covered your mouth and backed into the nearest wall. Tears welled in your eyes.
Fear gripped your heartstrings. This was to be your life now. A mother with a hybrid child who couldn’t be normal. God, why did he have to leave!? Why did you have to fall for the alien?!
That night, you cried hard, curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor.
One good thing in your life was the fact your job just required you to sit in a chair and play customer service. There was no going out of your house and being heavily pregnant. To people wanting to know every single detail about the pregnancy and the child.
After the sixth month, you truly picked yourself up by your big pants and made a plan. It had to a home birth. No one could know. Not unless they take your child away. Over your dead body.
Supplies had been purchased, for the most part. Only a couple of onesies, a crib, some toys, and lots and lots diapers. You weren’t sure what to expect besides the normal stuff you researched for a human child. This would be a new experience for you and the whole world. A world that will never know what you possess deep within your belly.
This was all new territory to you. Of course it was. Who else has had an alien baby before?! Shit, calm down. You gripped the desk’s edge breathed through the unease in your stomach. From there, you were able to slow your pounding heart once more. Everything will turn out okay. It had to be.
By the beginning of the ninth month, you couldn’t go out. None of your family was allowed to see you, but that stemmed from the end of the seventh month. Where your bump was pronounced at that point. The questions and integration you would go through all for them to find out there’s no father in the picture. You could see the color drain from your parents face if you had to tell them.
The new job went well so far. An up in your unsteady life. You have yet to tell them about an unplanned trip that was coming up soon. Whenever your child decided to pop out. You didn’t even know if that was going to happen on time. Who knows if the alien genes have altered the time frame of the pregnancy. God, you didn’t know how any of this worked.
So far, the idea was when your water broke, you would use your vacation and sick leave to give a home birth. Hopefully from there, you can figure out a way to take care of the child while at home. All you prayed for was the delivery went smooth.
Two weeks later, while working away, a rush of water soaked the apex of your thighs. You were in the middle of call, pausing mid sentence at the feeling. A hand slapped over your mouth to stop any noises from escaping. There wasn’t any pain, just a feeling you had just wetted your pants. The person on the other end asked for you to repeat what you said. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and continued onward, barely paying attention.
It was about to happen.
When the work day ended, you threw down your headset and rushed to the bathroom. Supplies had been laid out in preparation for when the time came.
A blow up pool to lay in your living room was pulled out. A hose that could attach to the bathtub’s facet was connected then dragged out to the pool. An air mattress blowup machine was set down next to the deflated pool. The small hose was connect to the necessary hole before you turned it on.
The noise it created was uncomfortable to listen to. A headache began to form. Pressure created inside your skull and pressed against your eyes. You wanted to take some pain killers but was afraid on if that was the right thing to do. People get medicine at the hospitals but how much was too much. Would anything you’ve taken affect the baby? Oh god, you hadn’t thought about that! You wanted to smack yourself silly for not thinking about such a thing. Had you put the child in danger now?!
When the machine changed its tone, you looked down to see the blow up pool had been finished. It only took a single disconnected hose to seal it off. Instead of putting it away, you decided to keep the device nearby just in case. You wanted it be prepared at all costs since you’ll be doing this alone. Without anyone. No one to hold your hand. No one to make sure you’re okay.
Tears welled up in my eyes at those thoughts. All alone to give birth an alien baby. A mistake you had partially regretted. The night of throes was one you could never forget about. Your hand subconsciously rubbed against the lingering scar on your neck. A mark that he left in reminder of himself. Not the only thing he had left behind in his wake.
After all the supplies had been dragged out, you texted your boss you had an emergency and couldn’t be there for work. You were using the next three days to recoup from this. You wished for more but didn’t want to anger your new boss about the sudden leave. All you had to do was fake it until you make it. Pretend you knew everything about giving birth. It’s natural. Your body should know what to do and how to do it.
For the rest of the day, you simply walked around your small apartment. A sharp pain began over time to throb in your nether regions. It only eased up when you continued to walk around. Thankfully, it was manageable for the most part. No drugs. Just walking your way through it.
The night came. Your ankles were swollen beyond belief. The lower portion of your back ached. The throbbing never went away completely. It receded to the back of your mind then waned back into existence. You constantly gnawed on your bottom lip and tried to put on the T.V on something random to distract you. It helped little to draw your mind away from the different pains you were experiencing.
One look at the clock had you groaning. It was two in the morning. The contractions you were having only grew worse and closer together. That left you with no time to get any shut eye besides a five minute Power Nap every once in a while. You could only endure the aches as you rested in bed.
Night progressed onward until the rosy fingers of morning cascaded across the lightening sky. Any other day, you may have taken a picture at a sight so pretty. Instead, you scoffed at it and rolled out of bed.
Not once did you get more than five minutes of a nap.
The contractions had grown to a point where it made it hard to stand. Yet, you bear your weight against a chair in the small dining room. Standing it meant to help. Let gravity do its thing. Yet, with the lack of sleep made it hard to use what energy you did have to stay standing.
Then, the need to push hit you like a semi truck. You had to rush to fill up the pool with hot water. It was all you had left to do before everything would be ready.
All of your clothing had been strewn across the living room. All the towels you owned were set around in arms length near you. You sunk into the steaming water and groaned at the relaxing prosperities it offered.
It was time to push.
A day you knew you would never forget despite what you’ve read. The hormones in the brain could cause you to forget that any of it happen. The pain. The agony. Nearly shitting yourself. All variables to when your bundle of joy was freed from your body. Just a little thing that didn’t… look to weird.
He was so ugly he was cute in a way that only a mother would understand. He had the features of his father. Yet with a humanness to him you could see. Yet, your son could never step out into the world like you are able to. Unless he will be ripped away from you as you are dragged deep underground. Never to see or hear from your family again.
His face had only two mandibles. Bottom ones that were only nubs at this point with no sharp, deadly fang to taint the tip. He had no hair. That left you to wonder if he who’s hair he may take after. You hoped not the alien’s. Who knows if they have a routine. Not like you could have the supplies or knowledge to take care of such thing.
Thankfully, his skin mostly matched your own. There were hints of that dark red of scales that pebbled the tops of his forearms. You flinched at the sight and picked at the scales. But they didn’t come off. Your brows pushed up together as you worried the scales wouldn’t come off. They had to.
His first cry snapped you out of your stupor.
Since that day, living with a child you didn’t know how to take care of was beyond exhausting and nerve wracking. There was no time to yourself. Let alone, going out to see friends and family. You just used the excuse of work. It was always about work.
Your son, Austin, was different then research told you. From his ability to sit up only weeks after birth. He was able to speak at six months; crawl at eight before standing at eleven months. He pushed past each milestone with ease. You were proud of him, astonished he could perform each feat.
Days turned into months. Those milestone months turned into years. Before you knew it, your little Austin had turned five. A year he would have been starting kindergarten if he was normal.
One thing that changed about him was his hair. It easily came to you his hair was thin but like the rubbery dreads of Dai’stbaen. His scales multiplied across the tops of his forearms, growing up to his shoulders. Some peeked out on his chest and down his belly. The red was stark across otherwise smooth skin. He looked… not human. Only a mother could love. As harsh as that sounded, it was the truth. But, if anyone took him away from you, they would meet a mother’s fury.
During the night, you were curled around Austin. A protective shield to hide him away from the dangers of the real world outside the safety of your apartment. That was his one rule. All windows must stay shuttered and sealed off. No one could see in. No one could know he existed.
The time dragged on. Every second feeling like going over a pile of sharp rocks on the bottom of your feet. Nothing quelled the unease that sat in the pit of your stomach. The years may have passed well but you weren’t sure you were doing this right. This is a hybrid baby where the father isn’t in the picture. You didn’t even know if Dai’stbaen was still alive. All the dangerous things he lives to hunt for a passion, for a living. You shuttered at the reminder of all the skulls he possesses. Dangerous and lethal.
When sleep finally decided to drag you into its depths, you jerked up. Something in the back of your mind screaming to get up. Austin whined when you slid off the bed and rushed towards the bat you had close to the bed.
By the time your fingers curled around the bat, your bedroom door creaked open. Fear pulsed through your body like a powerful drug. Your hands trembled while holding onto the weapon. The darkness made it next impossible to see the figure standing in your doorway. That didn’t stop you from rushing forward and bringing the metal bat down with all of your strength.
Only for the bat to be caught mid swing.
It was tugged out of your grip and tossed behind the figure. The lights were flickered on, blinding you. You squinted through the pain the best you could only to see a darkly dressed figure there. More piled in. You stumbled backwards until your back hit the wall.
Harsh hands snatched at your wrists and smashed you nearly face first into the ground. Both of your arms are wrenched behind your back and locked into place with handcuffs.
Finally, at this point, your brain has finally caught up. But, it was too late to struggle. One person held down your legs. Other held various points of your body so it was impossible to move more than an inch.
The shrill scream of Austin had the fight in you restored to full power. A war cry thundered into the room, causing the people on you to tense. Your arms were already restrained with metal cuffs. Yet, your legs struck out and hit something soft underneath your foot. The tall tale sound of pain cut through the tense air. Someone fell down with a thud. You didn’t stop. Your legs continued to thrash until both of your wrists were being bent in a way that felt like they had snapped.
A scream of pain rang throughout the small bedroom before someone used some sort of cloth to tie around your mouth. It effectively quieted all of your screams. You looked up the best you could towards a masked face and swore you were going to hurt them all for hurting your son.
Austin had been pulled out first before they had painfully dragged you out of your own apartment. The entire time, you fought them. Each time, they either kneed at your ribs and tugged harder on your shoulders.
Then, you received a knee to the head.
.
Word spreads like wildfire. Nothing like this is common. The council is immediately called upon to set forth who shall proceed with the task at hand. But, when it comes down the finer details, Dai’stbaen is the one traveling through time and space. Back to a planet he has not seen in years. Where he wished to return for his own pleasure and time. To a ooman that… captured his attention.
This return trip wasn’t meant for time away from the hunt. A job had been handed to him. A very important job that needed to be completed before Cetanu could be released.
A hybrid had been spoken about on the rail. A ooman/Yautja hybrid. Dangerous beyond belief to let such a thing be in the hands of the oomans. Some call for it to killed. An abomination in many minds. It all came down to Dai’stbaen in the end. If he deems it mercy or an act upon the code, it shall be killed.
The ship softly shuttered when it came to rest on earth’s ground. All the engines slowly whirled down, powering off with a couple switches. Dai’stbaen unbuckled from the seat and stood up. His weapons soon adorned his frame before he headed out the hatch.
Pine and morning dew filtered into his mask. He took in the lungful, shoulders rising and falling. Then, he was off. Only a flash of dark red in the sea of green and brown.
Before arriving here, the Yautja had done his fair share of research. Many known places for ooman government settlements are pinpointed on a map. A map that Dai’stbaen currently was using to show him the right direction. Yautjas have been here for a long, long time.
His silent feet led him straight to building that wasn’t well hidden just deep in the forest. A helipad was the only way in and out of here. Whoever was here was all there could be. Backup, if he had been spotted, would take too much time to capture him.
A cloak covered him from sight. Dai’stbaen took roost up in a tree, eyes scanning over the decently sized building. Just enough to hold a small team. For whatever they were doing to the hybrid. The Yautja scowled at the thought of the nasty oomans. He only knew of one that was worth a blooding mark. One well deserved after saving his life. Death almost came to the ooman as well after the fight had finished. Wounds that one should’ve never survived from. Without him, the ooman would’ve passed. A strong, mighty soul lost to Cetanu. Dai will not allow for that to happen.
Weak entry points were easy to locate and mark mentally in his mind. No patrols wondered the outside perimeter. Oomans and their cockiness. No wonder they die so easily to his own kind.
With the other modes on his bio mask, he determined the easiest way to get into the complex. His feet were silent as he dropped back down to the forest floor and moved inward.
Despite the place being lack with its security, Dai’stbaen never once let his guard fall. Not all shall seem to meet the eye. Plenty of life experiences and past hunts have told him otherwise. The hunt may seem easy but may turn for the worse at a moments notice. Dai rather not be caught in trap so avoidable. Not like some past Yautjas have. A shame and board line dishonor.
To get inside the complex took little pressure. A certain wire cut had the door failing. It opened up and revealed an empty hallway. The cloak was still activated as he moved forward. He used his mask to look at patches possibly taken. Yet, the signs helped him the most.
Dai’stbaen stood in front of a door strong enough to hold back a Yautja at full strength. A grumble fell from his throat as he looked over the exterior. This wasn’t something he could strong arm the rest of the way. He was forced to look over the outside well, finding any weakness. Yet, it had been designed specifically to hold a Yautja.
Noise to his right had been side stepping the door and looking down the hall. A trip of oomans rounded a corner, deep in talk. White lab coats hung off of one of them. Others were dressed in pastel color of clothing. A brow arched from underneath his mask as he watched the three of them walk towards him. But, he wasn’t alert to them finding him.
All of them stopped at the door he once stood at.
“We’ve only been able to recently touch him with the mother nearby. Or else he’ll claw and bite everyone,” one said and rubbed a wrapped up portion of his arm. “I don’t know about either of you, but I’d rather not take another swing from the little twit.”
Mother? Was the hybrid young? And these oomans had taken a child and its mother.
Fire raced through his veins. A growl threatening to alert the oomans right in front of him.
One of them raised a plastic card up to the key pad. It beeped at the touch before the door opened up. The angle didn’t allow him to see inside the room.
But the smell. A smell he’d thought to never scent again hit him hard. Idiotic of him, he froze up long enough for the door to shut after the oomans entered. He had to close off his throat to stop a deep growl from erupting. It was his duty to get into that room.
It felt like he was a unblooded all over again, patient worn out long ago. The muscle of his jaw so tight it felt like it was cramping. His eyes never left the doorway, ears trying to listen in but found the walls too thick for him to hear through. Everything in him wanted to bust down the door to get inside. Who knows what those scum of oomans were doing.
The tension in his muscles turned complete rigid when the door slid back open. His body acted before his mind could complete a thought. Dai rushed forward and snatched the lab coat ooman up by the neck. She tried to scream for her life but he pinched off any access to air. Her face already turning to a shade of red he loved oomans to wear.
He entered the space still holding onto the soft meat. She squirmed and kicked at him, anything to get free from his grasp. The door shut behind him and locked him into the room that was filled with the scent of terror.
And yours.
A mixture that reeked. The Yautja growled lowly in his chest before plucking the ID card off of her. She could barely make a noise, face beet red. Dai’stbaen dropped the defenseless ooman back down onto the ground. She crumbled to the floor and choked and gasped for air. He barely gave her a glance and strode over to your trembling, slacken jaw form.
You never once thought to see this beautiful creature again. Not a single moment in your life. But, here stands Dai’stbaen in all of his glory. Biomask covering his features but you could feel the heat of his eyes on you. He marched over to you and ate up the space between the two of you. He fell to a knee and reached out to your chained form.
Metal wrapped painfully around your throat and hands. They attached to a bolt in the concrete wall. No ooman could break out of something with pure strength alone. Dai’stbaen lifted up the chain and felt its weight. Nothing to him but to you, red marks had been rubbed raw into your soft skin. A scowl hidden by his mask.
As if you saw a god, you reached up and brushed your fingers against the coolness of the metal of his face covering. A face you desperately wanted to see.
“Dai?” you croaked out in voice devoid of water for so long. You looked so lost, long without hope to fill your fierce eyes. The male himself was speechless. Why in the stars were you here? In a facility he was looking for a hybrid. He cupped your jaw in a massive hand, fingers curling around the back of your head. His thumb graced over your pronounced cheek bone. Your eyes had sunken in. The skin dark and lifeless underneath him.
This wasn’t the vision of how he left you. You had been curled up against him, soft, gentle features at peace. The marks that marred your skin. His eyes darted down to the bite mark he left in the heat of the moment. Had these scums taken you all because of a bite? Surely, they wouldn’t notice anything off with such a bite?
Clattering of metal skirting across the concrete floor snapped him back into his hunter mode. His head whipped around. One of the other oomans had discovered him, coming around a partition. Before the man had time to react, Dai was a red blur across the room. His hand curled around his throat and brought the person to him. You watched as Dai choked the unsuspecting man out until he no longer moved. He was released and flopped down onto the ground. His chest slowly rose and fall.
The person in the lab coat was able to regain her composer, head tilted up. Her dark eyes were trained on Dai. An accusing finger pointed at him. “You-“ she coughed “-can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt any of us,” she bit out in a nasty tone that twisted your gut. There was nothing you could do, still chained up to the wall. Your face morphed with anger. You pulled on the chain but it only rattled at the move.
Dai’stbaen didn’t stop marching towards her on the ground. She scrambled backwards and even kicked his shin. Yet, he didn’t even flinch at the strike. He bent at the waist and picked up the struggling woman with a single arm. Your jaw slackened again at the remind of how strong he is. The memories of the last night with him resurfacing at the wrong moment.
Not a word or sound utters from his vocal cords. One arm wraps around her neck and hold strong. Blood and air is restricted to her brain. It doesn’t take long for her to drop to the ground, chest slowly rising and falling.
Once the issue is solved, he strides across the limited space again. They weren’t dead. You were thankful he hadn’t killed them in front of you, knowing he could pull such a thing. Dai’stbaen returns to his position in front of you. A claw hooks into the unforgiving chain wrapped around your wrists. For a government facility, they didn’t have good restraints. Maybe… they weren’t thinking about capturing prisoners.
Not like yourself, at least.
His mask stares at the chains for a moment. Then, with both of his hands, he grips it at two different sections and pulls. The metal groans under his pure strength before easily giving way with a snap. The end hangs from your neck and pulled on the tender areas. Next, Dai’stbaen worked on your wrists in the same manner. He had left a tail end, unable to get so close to you.
Your legs strained to lift yourself off of the unforgiving, dull grey floors. The muscles have gone weak after the lack of use and proper food.
Before you could make it, Dai’stbaen easily scooped you up into his arms. His warmth easily washed over your numb frame. The air in the room was cool. It kept you shaking nearly all the time. They never offered a blanket or something.
He was able to transfer you to one arm holding you to him. His free hand grabbed the ID card he had snatched earlier. The male walked over to the closed door.
“Wa-it!” you hissed when he attempted to leave. Your body squirmed in his hold. Dai’stbaen grunted and pinned you to his warm body. “We can’t le-ave!” Austin. Tears were brought to your eyes at the thought of your son. You used a hand to pull on one of Dai’s tresses and directed him over to the partition.
Dai could smell another ooman and something else.
Your feet touched the cool concrete again. The strength in your legs was long gone and forced you to sit down. His gaze was set on what he could see around the partition’s edge. He stalked over then froze for a moment. In another flash, he lunged forward. You decided to stay where you were when you heard a thud smack. Another person choked out. Alive.
Soft, nearly silent footsteps alerted to Dai coming back. When he appeared around the corner, you scrambled to get to your weak legs.
In his arms was the limp body of Austin. “No!” you cried but unable to find the strength. After so long of fighting, you had lost the will. Even at the sight of your son limp in front of you. Tears brimmed the edges of your eyes as you clawed at Dai’stbaen. As if you could climb him to get to Austin. “Please, no.” Your whimper cracked at his own heart.
What had they done to him?
It was your reaction that had the dots clicking inside of his head. You… Oh, by Paya’s will! His eyes widened underneath the mask, muscles turning taunt. The hybrid… it was his. The red scales, mandibles, the tresses. Dai’stbaen could’ve smacked himself for how stupid he had been. How could’ve he not even thought of the possibility?! But… the idea was next to impossible.
Here it was though. In his arms. Softly breathing. The mother clawing at him, eyes balling with tears. Dai’stbaen knelt down in front of the ooman he’s come to know. You instantly tried to tug him out of his arms but it was nothing compared to his strength.
“Austin, honey. Oh god, no. Anything but him!” you sobbed and rushed your hands all over him. He was still warm. The first thing you notice; slightly taking you out of your panic. Then, your finger pads found a gentle pulse. Your saneness slowly coming back as you realized Austin was alive. You gave another sob. This time of relief. Your arms wrapped around him the best you could then slowly looked up at the Yautja.
The mask may hide all of his features… but you felt the heat of his stare. You pulled away and straightened your back, eyes casting downward. Not once did one of your hands leave Austin.
“Yeah,” you choked out and buried yourself into your shoulders. You didn’t know how he was going to react to all of this. Even yourself didn’t want to believe the pregnancy for the first six months.
His arm underneath Austin’s knees snatched the forearm closest to him. Dai leaned in close to you that your foreheads nearly touched. Your heart began to thunder loudly.
“Child? We have… child?” Words so unsure of the reality of everything. A feeling you felt so long ago in the beginning of all of this. You had been alone, terrified. To this day, you still are. Even before they had found out about Austin and yourself.
More tears stained your cheeks. “Yeah,” you sniffled with a nod. His hand twitched for a moment before letting you go. Instead, you carded your fingers through his, nails biting the back of his hand. “We do. I-I didn’t k-now how to-to tell you. You were… gone.” Words so important to you unaffected him. For the most part.
A huff left the alien. His head turned towards the door. The weight of the situation slammed down on you once again. Escape. This was your chance for escape. You couldn’t walk though. The battle had long left you after a lesson well learned. His hands were full with Austin.
You let go of his hand pushed at him. If one must be saved, it had to be Austin. Your son over yourself. “Go! Bef-ore they find out. T-take him to-to safety, please,” you pleaded with the male, face wet and sticky from the constant tears.
Dai snorted and scooted Austin more onto one shoulder. With his other arm, he wrapped it around your torso. One show of strength had you tossed over onto the other shoulder. A pained grunt surge past your lips when you landed harshly on your stomach. The birth had always left you scarred permanently. Then, the Yautja was on his feet and quickly stalking towards the door.
The stolen keycard was used to open the door and revealed an empty hallway. He peered out to look both ways before stepping out. Years of training aided him. His feet light despite the added weight of two people on him. Yet, he had noticed how much lighter you were compared to when he last held you up. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach. A need to end the lives for those caused harm to you.
There were more important things to worry about for now. Safety for one.
Like a skilled hunter, Dai’stbaen was able to slip out of the complex with little difficulty. The cloak had been rendered useless. He was forced to rely on strict listening and awareness of his surroundings.
Fresh air on your skin was heaven sent. You lifted yourself up with just enough strength to prop yourself up on his shoulder. The outside world was something you hadn’t seen in a long time. You could cry at the sight. For so long.
The Yautja carried you a long way. Not once did he stop for a break or rest. Like a freight train, he continued to move. The sway of his gait nearly had you passing out, ready to succumb to a sleep you weren’t petrified to never wake up again.
A familiar sight peered through the trees. The ship. Oh god, you were really free. Dai’stbaen had come for you to save the two of you.
How did he know? Words you wanted to ask him but your energy was dwindling faster than you could stop it. The realization of safety had you finally drifting in and out of light sleep.
The feeling of scales against your belly had your eyes flickering open. You groaned and found yourself on your back, looking up at the familiar face of Dai’stbaen. His biomask long gone at this point. The only upper mandible twitched when his bright yellow eyes found yours. A hand cupped at your cheek, thumb running over your pronounced cheek bone.
“Thank you,” you whispered in a hoarse voice. Water was instantly brought to your lips in the form of a waterskin. Every drop you took then licked at your cracked lips.
Something akin to anger swirled bright in his fierce eyes. His mandibles tightened over his mouth, nails creating divots in your skin. “You stay. With me,” he demanded.
Free from the mask, his voice was clear and crisp in the protection of his room. A space you had shared with him for that month.
Your brows jumped up towards the ceiling. How was that going to work? Humans… they don’t survive outside of earth’s atmosphere. And the creatures he hunts. They would think of you as a snack. Easy pickings. A full bottom shiver wrecked your poor frame.
“How’s… that going to work?” you asked, not opposed to leaving your life behind. All of your friends and family had been pushed away when Austin had been born. Your job must of fired you. Your apartment was probably been cleaned out. Everything you once knew was gone. All besides your child and his father.
His next words were thought over carefully. “You are ooman, weak and frail. Yes. But, I protect you. Like you protected me. We have child. He learn Yautja ways. Be hunter,” he explained to the best of his knowledge in English. Your eyes widened. He wants Austin to be like him.
Austin. Your head whipped about before Dai’stbaen caught it and directed your attention to your side. There laid your sleeping kid. He had curled up on his side, facing you. At peace.
You licked at your cracked lips and gaze back towards Dai’stbaen. “I named him Austin,” you said to him. Something flashed in his eyes, but he kept silent.
Everything he said though, you couldn’t completely disagree on. From the fact your life was ruined, to the fact Austin was different. It took so much to reel him in from going out the front door. Or, he loved to climb up on to of the cupboards. Even when he very young.
A hunter at his core.
“He’s got you heart.” You smiled at him, stars sparkling in your eyes. Then, you bowed your head and played with your hands on the blankets. “I… I agree with you. I can’t go back. And, I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel terrible that I’m probably not taking care of him right.” You peered at Dai from underneath your lashes. “I need your help.”
With his hands on your cheeks, he tugs you in a little closer. His forehead presses to yours in a soft gesture. “I help. We raise together.” Your eyes closed. You embraced the warmth blooming in your chest.
The tension in your chest loosen. You could finally breath normally again.
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