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stareiiez · 3 months ago

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You're Mine, Now and Forever

notes: first actually long fic for this fandom, and its giving a slow start. don't worry! it gets better from here. also idk how I feel about this style of writing, it feels off. idk.

warnings: MINORS DNI.

words :3.3k

chapter two

You don't know how it happened, or how much time passed when the first scream ripped through the air and the first bloody body collided with your frantic driving on the express lane outta town. After all, it was just supposed to be like any other day, with you spending your time at work during a slow hour; organizing and reorganizing dresses for what felt like the nth time that hour just so you looked productive. Pop music filtered slowly through the store's speakers and you hummed to the few lines you knew of Chappel Roan's new hit song. The two customers milling around the clearance section chatted to another one of your coworkers across the store, and your manager was at the cash register, scrolling through logs of ordered clothing items to make sure they were in stock in the store's catalogs.

It was a boring day. A lunch break was the motivation for you to continue mindlessly nitpicking at full clothing racks when the first explosion shook the very building. The music stuttered glitching just to accompany the flickering overhead flourescent lights. Then another explosion follows soon after, a deep heavy boom that sinks into the soles of your shoes and rockets up your spinal cord to shake your back molars. Your mouth wants to open, to ask the obvious ' What the fuck was that?" out loud like every stereotypical blonde that questions the bloody scream they heard in the middle of the night in every 90's horror movie. But the chorus of screams and chaos answers your inner thoughts instead. Screams of fleeing citizens running away from whatever danger caused the very ground to shake, and smoke to plume into clouds upwards.

"Stay back, " your manager barks to you and three other women who cower together in a small huddle. She walks towards the still rattling glass doors of the store. A shared fear decorates your faces as you all watch with bated breath; the two sets of wide doors swing open, and your manager steps out into the chaotic mass of running bodies that swarm past her.

Horror paints her face when she sees the source of the destruction. Her head is tilted backward and jaw slack, her amber eyes the size of marbles, she's rooted to the spot. You're surprised she's not knocked off her small feet with every push and shove she endures. "Oh my god." Your ears strain, eyes focused on the way her mouth moves over each syllable with a slow, shocked pace. You're not blessed with reading lips, but you'd like to think that adrenaline fuels your brain enough to make out the word 'Invincible' before the ground shakes again.

This time, the destruction targets your building particularly. One second you're standing and the next, you're knocked on your ass washed away in a wave of shattered glass and minuscule pieces of asphalt and rubble that spray into your vicinity. The outside world, once muffled by plexiglass, screams with sirens, and people running for their lives berate your ringing eardrums. Your front doors are destroyed and buried under brick-and-mortar rubble. Severed limbs stick out this way and at odd angles from the tight crevices of drywall and insulation. The dust makes your eyes water, and you choke on a scream that squeezes your throat something fierce. You like to think you're not consumed by the panic and the trauma of watching your manager and several others get crushed to death in a matter of seconds because Mark has gone off the deep end.

"Come on!" Your coworker's words bark at you. Suddenly she's at your side, in your shocked haze, she managed to be the functioning one out of the rest of your group. Her hands grab onto your forearm and yank all your dead weight to your feet. "We need to leave! I don't want to die here!" Her free hand holds onto the sobbing customer, the other woman accompanying her is missing. Surely buried under the rubble that caved in one corner of the dress store, maybe she was one of the hands that was reaching out from the concrete bloody mess. The thought makes you want to stop and vomit, your stomach curdles with how much stress and adrenaline swarms through your body in nauseating waves.

You follow her, not like you had a choice, she's pulling your trio towards the back of the store and the emergency exit. Her breaths are ragged and half-sputtering between prayers to some god she believes in that your only exit isn't blocked off either. "Stay here, I need to get the keys in the office." Your coworker says, dropping both of your hands. Her face is an ashy pale gray when she turns to give both you and the other woman a once over, checking to see if you're all in one piece and able-bodied enough to book it once she gets the door open. You must look just like her, the expression of unrestrained fear and cement particles dusting your face. Small streaks of blood trickle down your temples and nose bridge, thanks to the shards of plexiglass that rained over you in the third explosion.

You nod, swallowing down acidic bile that bubbles at the back of your throat. Your eyes linger on her small back when she makes a mad dash to the small back office down the hall. When she disappears from your line of sight, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It makes you jump right out of your ashen grey skin. The woman beside you startles as well, her hand clutching at her heart. "Sorry," you manage to whisper, while your hands scramble to the right back pocket of your jeans to dig out your phone. The now cracked touch screen illuminates too brightly, shining a picture of you and Mark Grayson posed in a goofy pose. Your fingers poised in a 'peace' sign, while the male was peeking out from behind your shoulder with his two pointer fingers raised above either side of your head. Your twin smiles look so carefree in the saved contact picture you have of him.

Your thumb taps on the green answer button, and you raise the phone to your ear. Mark's out-of-breath panting sends chills down your spine in some sickly worrisome way. Your name barks through the speaker of the phone, the continuous screams make it almost hard to hear him. "Mark? Mark, what's going on? " You don't even question why the hell he's calling in the first place, isn't he the supposed one murdering and tearing down the city? Isn't that why the people screaming his superhero name saw him wreak havoc?

"No time! Please tell me you're safe. ." a pause, his ragged inhale makes your heart squeeze in time with your clammy palm gripping the phone tighter to your ear. "Please."

"I'm fine." You copy his pause, brows wrinkle in thought. You know you're lying, you're not fine. You're dazed and confused, shaking in your sleek shoes. Your legs are unsteady and becoming more and more unstable, the comedown from adrenaline is going to be a fickle bitch that'll do you in if whatever happening outside doesn't kill you first. "I'm still at work, I'm waiting for the door to get unlocked as fast as it can be."

Even through the grey background noise on the other side of the line, Mark's sigh crackles through the call. You could picture his shoulders just dropping the tiniest inch in relief, that a loved one of his hadn't been hurt or god forbid, even slaughtered mercilessly in the devastation that had been going on. "You need to get out of here." His voice urges, tensely.

"Mark-"

"I'm serious!" His tone jumps, he's barking. Halfway yelling, and you flinch. The woman at your side reacts by recoiling, both of your nerves bouncing off one another like electrons bouncing off the walls of an atom. "You need to get the fuck out of here, find a car-- any car. Don't even think about hiding, you need to drive as far as you can outta here. You hear me?"

You swallow dryly, fingers squeezing tighter. Blood rushes in your ears, you know you can't argue. There's no way to get information outta him now, not when his words are clipped, whatever is happening outside is far more important and drastic than arguing with his girlfriend who's too stubborn to flee for her life without asking stupid questions. You're smarter than that, and he knows it. He's lost far too many things, and gone through too many traumatizing situations than to waste time and not save the people he loves. Your eyes close briefly, counting to three in your whirling hellscape of a mind. You nod like he can even see you. You can sense it's different now. This isn't some closed-off fight between Nolan and his son that trying to stand up to him and not ' ready the Earth' for the viltrumites to come. This is far more scarier, it's drastic and life-shattering. "What about you? People are screaming Invincible is causing this."

"Don't worry about me." Mark says, his tone more gentle than before, "Just run, I can handle them and if anything happens to me? Just know I love you, okay?"

Your breath hitches. You hate how that sounds; you hate the confession on his lips. It sounds more like a goodbye than him admitting his affection for you like he does every day so casually. It feels heavier on your heart, it rattles your bones, and the tidal wave of curdling bile in your stomach roars into a tsunami. You need to vomit. You need to yell at Mark and tell him to not talk like that. You want to tell him that whatever is happening outside can be handled by the two of you together, even if you don't have any powers. Yet, before you can even voice any of those options over the phone, the call ends with a sharp click. You don't know tears are dotting your waterline till you blink so rapidly that a few salty drops cut trails down your ashy cheeks. Gray water stains the front of your shirt, and your phone lowers from your ear. Your grip is loose on the device.

"Got them!" Your coworker calls out, jogging back to you and the other woman; the jangling keys clenched tight in her fist. You don't know if it adds to the hurt your heart is already holding onto when she doesn't acknowledge the distraught on your face. She's more focused on jamming one of the silver keys in the keyhole and twisting it to the right, the satisfying click and rough opening of the door rings in your muffled ears.

The woman shoves past the two of you without hesitation, making a break for it as fast as her forty-five-year-old bones can carry her. She won't make it far, she barely would last surviving running around the bend of the building before the crowd of citizens tramples her half to death in their need to live another minute longer. Any man for themself is a fickle bitch. Your head turns to your coworker as you follow suit, breaking into a jog. She's already following behind, her pace a lot faster. "Stay safe." You call to her when she breezes past. Her silhouette disappears when she blends into the waves of people, fighting against the current so she can get to some sort of safety before she gets crushed to death herself. Her kindness, her stupid jokes, and her natural leadership are all you're going to have to remember her by; if you live long enough to even see her again.

You run a different path, following the makeshift alleyway that's half crumpled down and now smaller in size, your shoes threaten to trip on jutting-out stone and rebar when you traverse too fast. Your heart thuds faster in your chest, brain running a million miles an hour on how to keep yourself from running further and further away from the manic crowds. Alley water splashes at your ankles, sinks into your shoes, and makes your socks stick to your soles. You cringe inwardly, pumping your legs harder till you too start to run. The small alley breaks out into wide open space, and sunlight and smokey skies greet your frazzled complexion. Crashed cars and abandoned vehicles greet you immediately, some are still smoking and burning. Hot oil and melted rubber don't do anything to quell the queasiness you've been fighting this entire day, but there's no stopping now.

Now, you have to leave. No matter who Invincible knock-off is causing this; they'll be busy fighting off Mark and his team. You run along the cracked sidewalk, eyes sweeping over the conditions of the vehicles.

The lessening of people crying for help is eery, the whole city should be shouting from the tops of their lungs. It's like everyone got wiped out in a matter of seconds, or on a lighter note, they're all hiding and being as quiet as possible so they don't die next. You expected to see clogged highways and people running along the highways seeking freedom, instead, there are only deserted streets and cars tipped over on their sides that you brush past in your search for a ride.

Finally, you spot a buggy. A cute little Volkswagon with dents decorating its doors, and still running. Its engine is the loudest thing in the pin-drop silence, even compared to your sneakers pounding on the pavement. You know it's stupid to take the bait, that some conveniently placed car is here while you were in the middle of your search. You like to think you're better than the dumb female lead of a horror movie, that falls for every trick and ploy the killer lays out for her; but you're desperate. You need to fulfill Mark's wish, that you get the fuck out here and run as far as you can. The leather seat squeaks under your weight when you throw yourself inside the car and shut the door behind you. The car's radio crackles with dead static over its speakers, it sends chills up your spine and only adds to the apocalyptic atmosphere your once-busy city has been subjected to.

You're a walking target. The last survivor of your bug colony that trying to outrun the burning magnifying glass held above your head by some sadistic fucking toddler. The realistic side of things is, that you won't live to see the outskirts of the city before the Invincible knockoff crushes you and your car into smithereens. It'll be quick and painless, but you would hate to be another headstone in a graveyard that your family and Mark would have to visit. That's if they can separate your body from twisted metal and leather. With bated breath, you shift the car from park into drive and slam your foot down onto the gas. Clammy hands clench the wheel when you speed down the streets. You weren't prepped to see the mass destruction that greets you with every twist and turn you made. Bodies littered the streets, some in one piece, others most likely ripped into multiple pieces and scattered over the road and sidewalks. Collapsed buildings and homes make you swerve and splash puddles of oil and blood on the car's exterior. Your tires have run over a body part or more not to crash; the squish of flesh being flattened unnaturally is unmistakable in your ears.

"This is so fucked." You whisper under the roar of your pounding heartbeat. The city limit sign seems to grow closer and closer to you once you hit the wide-open highway. The drive through the rest of the city was thankfully quick, and you still were alive and unharmed. It's a miracle.

Your hope swells and stirs in the pit of your stomach like acid-covered butterflies, you're going to make it. You're going to make it! The delirious bubble of laughter peels from your parched throat, you can't help it. However, that laughter dies just as fast as it came. Just when you were going to pass that beloved city limit sign that seems just in arms reach now, your car hits the dark blue blur that launches itself in front of you. Your foot doesn't react quickly enough to hit the brake, but somehow you're violently stopped. Your chest hits the steering wheel, forehead threatening to follow suit if it wasn't for the seatbelt yanking you back just in time to save you from a concussion.

"Well, and who do we have here?" A male voice speaks out, way too calm for your own disorientated liking. "Hey pretty girl, didn't know if I'd see you again."

Again?!

You blink quickly, as a hand rubs at your bruising chest. In front of you, is . . Invincible. His color scheme is the same, black and blue, but he looks different. His ears stick out, and his hair is hidden away by his suit. His smile which you thought was charming and shy, is replaced with a sick stretched look. He bares all of his white teeth at you like a predator intimidating its prey. In your heart you know this isn't your Mark, it can't be. Not with the way he doesn't move a single centimeter of his body, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. The man is so quiet like he's waiting for you to freak out or scream, yet you disappoint him when you don't do either option. Boring, all you do is stare at him. Jaw slightly slacked, brain whirring a million microseconds a minute. His smile, however, doesn't waver. No, not at all; of course his pretty girl has always been smarter than any bimbo bitch that cried out when he flew through their bodies and ripped them to shreds in his hands.

It's what he loves- - no, it's what he was obsessed over back in his world. It was a shame you didn't last long in his care, and now it's like a higher being is rewarding him for his hard work here in your world to plant you in front of him so suddenly. He's glad the others didn't get to you first, who knows who he would have had to kill off his variants to get to you. He rounds to the side of the car so smoothly, your eyes watching his every step. A hand smacks down on the roof of the car, adding to the multitude of dents to its being. His other hand grips the handle of the driver's side door and pulls it off as easily as peeling off a sticker from its page.

He bends at the waist, his face invading your space far too close to your liking. He can smell the waves of fear and the new spike of adrenaline leaking from every pore of your body. Your natural scent mixed in is an addicting concoction that he never seemed to get enough of, you smell the same. You look just like the one in his home world. He hit the jackpot. You flinch at his movements, leaning far back in your car seat.

"Who are you?" Fuck you sound just like her. Your voice exhales so quietly, warmed breath fanning over the lower part of his face. Delicious.

The Invincible doesn't respond, doesn't even emote as much as that smile you start to grow unnerved of. It's unnatural, just like this entire day. Just like you don't know what the fuck even happened to get you to where you are now, staring in the face of a clone of your beloved Invincible.

#ocean blues greets you 💭#ch: invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #headcap invincible x reader #headcap invincible #fem reader #trust me it gets good after this chapter

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anantaru · 1 year ago

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— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood.

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

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ateliersss · 1 year ago

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Blooming Family Part 4 - He Shall Prevail

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,497 Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Masterlist

⇨ Hey, guys! I‘m back to writing. 6 months and 16 exams later, I finally found time to continue my now called “Blooming Family” series. You have no idea how much I missed it.

⇨ Though I have to say, this will probably be the end of this series. Probably. I got rid of every idea about our little family in those four parts and I don’t believe I can offer much more dramatic and exciting plot.

⇨ BUT! I already announced a Prequel on how Mi'ytiar and the Reader meet. I’m still working on it and the process is going smoothly for now. This means, this is definitely not the end of our story, so stay tuned!

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

The metallic smell of human blood that usually made him wallow in delight, now made him feel sick. The feeling of human blood on his skin, which usually sent a rush of excitement down his spine, now made him want to cut off any part of his body that made contact with it. The sight of him tearing a human apart — hurting it, killing it — that usually sated his predatory nature, now made him want to gouge his eyes out.

Blood flowed as he cut you, his beloved one, open under Cahrein's watchful eyes. The red fluid coated first his claws and fingertips, then his fingers completely, and before he knew it his whole hand when he started to reach into you.

Your small, beautiful body, which he had worshipped more times than he could count, had long grown numb, unmoving, lifeless. Your big, gorgeous eyes that had held so much love for him were closed, sparing him to witness the moment should the spark within them extinguish.

He wouldn't let that happen, he was sure of it. He just needed time to close the long, precise cut and get the blood that was stashed somewhere here on the ship. He knew how to stitch you together, God knows how many times he had to do it when you were on your hunting trips together, though it was never this kind of wound.

But Mi'ytiar, your oh-so-loving and attentive mate, had done something quite unusual for his species.

With no profound knowledge of births, let alone human births, he witnessed the act of giving life for the very first time when you had been pregnant with Akail. Even without any previous experience, he just knew that Yautja births were quite different from human ones. Their Females wouldn't have suffered that much from pain during labor and because of that, his already devoting stance towards you seemed to reach new heights when you fought like a warrior on your very own battlefield. He was impressed just as he was scared.

So, when Cahrein had confirmed your suspicions on being pregnant again, Mi'ytiar did what every father on earth would and should do when a baby was on its way: he prepared himself. Mostly, Cahrein showed and taught him the necessities who had studied the human anatomy when you arrived on Yautja Prime for the first time — leader's orders. And because there had never been a human in their clan or anywhere near it, he had to travel some time to the nearest one whose location he knew.

That's how Cahrein learned and that's how he was able to brief his clan leader.

You didn't know, but if you did, you once again would not fathom how lucky you were because how many Yautja out there with a human by their side for whatever purpose would put that much effort into them? Would any of them sit down and listen to their healer drone about the function of the ovaries? Would any of them waste their time instead of just finding a replacement? Would they be here when the chance of saving you was like catching mist with bare hands?

Mi'ytiar did, a leader nonetheless.

And when he felt it wasn't enough, he did his very own research on earth. Stalking through hospitals, invisible of course, thanks to the Cloak camouflaging his massive form and hiding him from the human eye, he was taking everything in. He observed the humans dressed in white and dark blue clothes scurry around before he decided to follow one around.

At nighttime, it was much easier when the staff thinned out. This way he had a better chance to explore the hospital and find his way to the infant ward, discovering it by chance. Fourteen see-through cribs were standing in two rows inside the ward. Fourteen tiny human babies were lying inside, sound asleep.

So that's what they looked like.

For a moment, he thought about being human himself. Not for his own appearance but for the possibility of having a pup who looked more like you, his love. You were such a beautiful creature, but sadly, your genes were practically drowned out by his.

In the daytime, he was lucky to watch five women deliver their babies. Four of them did it the natural way while the fifth woman decided willing to do a c-section. Obviously unaware of what would happen in a few years, he gained very useful knowledge that day.

That's how Mi'ytiar learned and that's how he located the pup in your womb so quickly and pulled it out.

He tried not to let himself get lost in the sight of the newborn, squirming and screeching. As much as he wanted to admire the little boy, another paragon created by you, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

He gingerly placed the flailing pup down on the cold glass surface of the table and against your body, snuggled between your motionless arm and your side. With the greatest care, he angled his son's head to rest against your shoulder and moved your arm so it would keep him in place.

Mi'ytiar wasted no time in turning the Medicomp upside down and finding the needed surgical tools much faster that way. Thankfully he hadn't discovered anything wrong once the pup was free, no suspicious rupture or tear that needed stitching. He was deaf to Cahrein's words as he fixed the cut with wound clamps and started to mix a gel that was able to close a wound of any kind, size or depth.

When he was sure the gel was painstakingly spread on the already healing cut, he grabbed the syringe with the purple-ish fluid and inserted its needle in the crook of your unoccupied arm. There was a 50-50 chance that it would work on you. Sxánxik would close all internal damage and increase blood cell production in case of severe blood loss, though he didn't know if it would work on human blood. But there was still a chance since your DNA had evolved through years of infusions of Yautja blood.

"You should get her blood." Cahrein's voice finally found its way into his consciousness.

"Can't leave." Mi'ytiar growled, his eyes focused on the shallow movement of your chest, scared it would stop the second they would stray from you.

"You need to. There is no guarantee sxánxik works." Cahrein pressed, growing restless at his leader's tunnel vision.

He knew he didn't know what was going through Mi'ytiar's mind, and if he said he knew how he was feeling at that moment, he would be lying. It was obvious to anyone who had ever laid eyes on the Life-mated pair that there was a unique and special bond between the two of you. Yautja were caring despite common belief, but even the most affectionate and compassionate of their species would never come close to the emotions your human heart held for your Yautja. Adding the influence you had on Mi'ytiar, it seemed to be fated.

Soulmates, Cahrein believed you had called the both of you when you told him about certain fairytales your mother had read to you when you were a child. Though you had said it in a joking way, telling him it was something hopeless romantics believed in, he could see it in your eyes that there was some kind of hope there.

"Sometimes two people are destined for each other."

Your human nonsense would always make him scoff in amusement until there was living and breathing proof of you being meant for his leader. Two proofs now, to be exact. When you were able to give Mi'ytiar his long-denied offspring where their Females had failed, Cahrein started to be less derogatory about superstitions on earth.

"Fine." Mi'ytiar snarled, hitting the glass surface of the holo-map table on each side of your thighs with closed fists, only hearing a splintering sound as he pushed himself away.

When he returned, the overwhelming sight of your body made him freeze in the doorway when the automatic doors opened. He tried not to tighten his grip around the blood bag in his hand, tried not to let his claws pierce holes into it and spill the red liquid.

You were lying there, paler than you had been moments ago. Where he had positioned your arm so your pup was safely tucked at your side, the other one was lying along the length of your body. Just as your spread legs were dangling down the table, your hand was loosely hanging down where it had previously been grasping the edge in pain.

"Mi'ytiar."

Cahrein's voice was once again pulling him out of his own head before he could drown in dark thoughts.

"I prepare your home for your return." The healer told him when Mi'ytiar covered your naked lower body with one of your blankets that you always kept on the ship.

When Cahrein received no response from his leader, who was too busy getting the blood into your veins before filling syringes with his own to inject it into you, he made the usual farewell gesture and his holo-image dissolved.

As soon as Mi'ytiar could assess you as stable, he took his newborn — he was so tiny, Mi'ytiar was able to hold him with one hand as he fit so easily in his entire palm — and placed him in the crook of his arm, the upper body of his son pressed against his bicep. The typical instinct of a Yautja pup to hold on made his son immediately cling to him.

With a heavy heart at leaving you alone once again, he went through the ship to take the pup to its sleeping place in the sleeping quarters. Digging out more of the cushions and covers you had stashed away, he created a makeshift crib so his son wouldn't move in a fatal position or roll out of the pod by accident. When he was sure he could leave him alone for a moment, he put the pup down and returned to you.

You were still in the same unconscious state he had left you. With a pained, sorrowful purr he lifted you up and into his arms, the almost empty blood bag held up by his hand. The sight of you like this was hurting him more than any wound he ever got from an enemy.

Back in the sleeping quarters, Mi'ytiar put you down in the pod where the two of you would usually rest. And where the little one was probably conceived, he thought with his eyes looking over at the pup.

Since the ship was not equipped with the necessary medical supplies and equipment, he had to make do with what was available to him. All he could do now was let you sleep and heal. Should the sxánxik not do its job, his blood would do.

To distract himself — because looking down at the device around his left arm, the journey back home would take another hour — he picked his newborn pup up and started to rock him softly. He remembered your reaction when you had seen him do it for the first time with Akail, scolding him for hurling the pup around. Your words.

Trying not to let his amusement show too much on his face, he had explained to you that Yautja babies, even when they were mere minutes old, were quite sturdy. They could endure more than you would think and you had learned that in the following five years. To put it simply, Akail had been a menace when he wasn't a complete mama's boy. He had wanted to explore; first your home, then the clan grounds, and then the whole planet.

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle-like rumble at the memory of an eager Akail running around, dodging his mother's arms that tried to keep him inside your home and from running around in the village. He had watched you both with mirth in his eyes but regretted it the second a grumbling laugh left his mouth. If it had been possible, he would have dropped dead when you glared at him with a very nasty look. Wincing inwardly, he pulled his figurative tail between his legs and came to your aid, grabbing Akail by the nape and lifting him up. Then you had looked at your son with an I'm-very-disappointed-in-you expression on your face and this time it was the pup that winced (Mi'ytiar almost too if he was being honest).

Like father, like son.

This one will be just as in love with his mother as his father and older brother were, he was sure of it.

Warm, soft and bright.

Those were the things you noticed first, even with your eyes closed.

The next thing your brain registered was that you could move every part of your body, although a little sluggish when you wiggled your toes and clenched and unclenched your hands. You were relieved that whatever happened to you hadn't paralyzed you.

Blinking, you opened your eyes and with a blurry vision, the very first thing you saw was a familiar but somehow unfamiliar metal pole that looked like an IV stand.

But that couldn't be. You should be the only human thing on Yautja Prime, so why…

"You awake."

You slowly turned your head in the direction of the voice. You could only make out a dark, tall figure standing in the doorway, though not tall enough to be your mate.

"Cahrein?" You murmured.

"Mhm."

Said Yaujta entered the room to inspect the stand, tapping the bag with a clear substance inside. He traced the tube attached to it with a sharp claw to the point where it was connected to the needle in your arm.

"Fascinating, I must say."

"What is this? Why is it here?" You asked and tried to get up, hoping the fatigue would wear off faster in an upright position.

With a deep rumble and a clicking of his mandibles, Cahrein gently pushed you back down. "The great Mi'ytiar always made sure you had everything you need should medical emergency arise."

"He did?"

Cahrein nodded with his head. "He traveled to ooman world to get whatever you need every time oomans developed their creations."

You looked at the healer who now inspected the red bag filled with your blood.

When you started to be more involved in the life of the Yautja, the possibility of getting hurt grew. It wasn't likely, as your mate never let you do anything that could cause even a bruise. Well, except, of course, mating with him.

When your already drawn blood expired, you would go to Cahrein so he could take new one for emergencies while you sat in Mi'ytiar's lap, his purring and his hands caressing you, calming you down. Despite being a former nurse you hated needles.

"How..." You coughed, your voice hoarse from not being used. "How long was I… asleep?"

"Six days."

"That long?" You whispered to yourself in disbelief.

You settled back into the soft cushions of your nest, watching the healer adjust the blood bag as if there was the perfect angle for it to hang. Ever the perfectionist.

You carefully lifted the arm with the needle inside while you grabbed a black woolen blanket to pull it over your body, somehow feeling cold despite the fire burning.

Doing so, you dragged your heavy-feeling arm over your stomach.

Your flat stomach.

You jumped up from your lying position, ignoring the stabbing headache.

Cahrein turned around, only needing to take one big step to be by your side, and was ready to scold you for going against your doctor's orders, but his words were dying on his tongue when you ripped the piece of clothing you were wearing open. Immediately, he averted his eyes and turned his back to you.

You may be his patient right now, but he had no death wish. Sure, he had seen parts of you in his role as the healer, but only with permission and in attendance of your mate. And said mate definitely didn't need to be in the room to witness his human being exposed in front of someone who wasn't him to instill that deep-rooting respect (and maybe even slight fear) in Cahrein.

You were oblivious to the internal battle of Cahrein who was fighting against the urge to make sure you weren't overexerting yourself and the fact that he couldn't do so without having to look at you. Instead, you were frantically tracing the faint scar across your stomach with shaky hands.

Baby…

Where was your baby?

Where was it?!

The maternal instincts were almost animalistic as they made you heave, your lungs starting to struggle to take in air.

It had been here, inside your belly, carried under your heart…

Why wasn't it here?

It should be… it should be…

Cahrein was really tempted to turn around when he listened to your breath getting more and more irritated and uneven. When he heard suspicious rustling, he spun around and grabbed the nearest cover to put it on you — the blanket you had wanted to snuggle into.

"Calm, (Y/N), calm." He purred as he pushed you back onto the nest when you tried to crawl out of it.

"My pup, my pup. Where is my pup?" You squeaked.

You were digging your nails into his skin, scratching it without leaving much damage. You weren't really a challenge to him. You were still weak from the blood loss and the week of bed rest. Had it been a female Yautja, Cahrein would have probably been dead by now. They were just as territorial and protective of their pups as you were right now.

"He is fine. He is with his father." He soothed you and tried to push you onto your back and into the nest. "I will call for him."

Still shaking, you ceased your resistance a little, allowing Cahrein to let go of you. Despite everything screaming inside of you to fight your way to your pup, your body in its state wouldn't even make it out of the room. So you settled down but kept your nerves on edge.

You were taking deep breaths in and out as you strained every muscle to prop yourself up into a sitting position, your legs tangled and angled to the side.

Tugging on the soft fabric of the blanket draped over you, you looked around the room. It was just like you remembered — all four walls made of smooth obsidian-like stone, the large window from the floor up to the ceiling behind your nest giving you the perfect view of the jungle-like valley beneath you by the cliff where the village was located on, the build-in shelves that mostly displayed your mate's most valued trophies, but also some of your possessions from your old home on earth like your books and your favorite pot plant, the futuristic wardrobe Mi'ytiar had made for you when he kept gifting you fabrics, feathers, fur, leather and such so you could make yourself clothes with the help of the Females.

It was home.

As your eyes swept over the room from left to right, they stopped when they spotted the small, wooden crib next to the nest. It had been Akail's when he was a newborn pup. It was lovingly and thoughtfully crafted by Mi'ytiar, while you had carved accents, patterns, and little figures into it.

Sure, Yautja Females had their own, traditional way of taking care of their pups, but you were human and your baby was partly human, so you wanted at least a little human influence in raising it. It's the only way you knew and were able to do it. Mi'tyiar let you take the reins since he had no prior knowledge himself. He was a first-time father and would just follow your instructions when you needed assistance.

That led to you unknowingly breaking a custom. Usually, at this age, the Female was raising the pup alone. The Male was barely involved during that time and would only take over when it was time for the pup to train as a Youngblood.

Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, the ever-loving father, was there by your side for every one of Akail's wobbly steps, incoherent mumble and mandible click. If he was human, you fondly mused, he would be that kind of a parent who would take photos and videos of even the most random event and unnecessary thing their baby did.

He was such a fierce and strong leader, callous and ruthless when the situation required it, a brutish savage if he was challenged, but when it came to his little family he was so soft and gentle like any human father or husband.

While you were spacing out, resisting the urge to reach over to the crib and check if the bedding was still warm, signs of a little life sleeping in it, you didn't notice the newcomers in your room.

"Yawne..." A voice sounded far away before you started blinking, refocusing yourself.

Your eyes snapped to the now much larger form standing in the entrance of the room holding a small, wiggling bundle in his arms, cradling it to his chest. His yellow eyes were solely on you, looking at you in disbelief as if he thought they were deceiving him.

Mi'ytiar pushed the bundle in his arms into those of Cahrein, who you barely registered walking in behind your mate, and made his way over to you in a few quick strides. Your eyes were fixed onto the thing your whole being was screaming for the most, but when Mi'ytiar cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, your whole attention was on him — your mate, the love of your life, your sun and your moon.

"Tahní." You breathed and put your hands on his, craving his warm skin closer to you.

He moved forward and gently put his forehead to yours, purring loudly into the otherwise silent room.

"I thought I lose you. I thought you die. Again." He grumbled, his eyes closed.

You lifted your head and placed a few kisses on the skin of his forehead.

"I'm a fighter. I thought you knew that by now." You chuckled, your voice hoarse.

Mi'ytiar grumbled again, not appreciating you making jokes when you had been on the brink of life and death.

"What happened?" You asked and pulled away to finally look at him.

Mi'ytiar — and you really had no nicer word to describe it — looked horrible. If Yautja were able to develop bags under their eyes, he definitely would have some. He looked beyond tired. There was a devastated but also relieved look in his eyes, you had no problem deciphering the reason behind it.

"I only remember how my water broke… how you carried me back to the ship… and the call with Cahrein." You mumbled as you tried to recall any memory you had stored in the back of your mind.

It was all blurry and tangled and you had no idea what happened when. The only thing you remembered with conviction was the pain. When the contractions started in that forest, it was far more manageable than the pain at Akail's birth. But when the labor was taking longer than it was normal, it got almost unbearable.

"What happened? How did he…" You trailed off as you glanced past Mi'ytiar and to Cahrein who was rocking the whiny bundle in his arm to calm it down.

"Mi'ytiar, please." You begged as you looked back at him, pleading with your eyes. "Please give him to me. I need to… I need to…"

The distress your body was emitting almost made him shrink away.

"Cahrein." Mi'ytiar grunted and reached out.

Cahrein, who was struggling a little with the fussing pup in his care, was careful not to accidentally drop it as he made his way over to his leader. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel at least some relief when the restless pup left his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was send you further down a spiral of frantic worry about your baby. He had seen enough Females going rogue for lesser reasons and experience showed to never stand between a mother and their pup. It was the last mistake you would make.

Mi'ytiar purred softly at the bundle before he turned back to you and offered it for you to take it. You eagerly engulfed it in your arms and the second you had a hold on it, the fussing pup settled down.

"Leave." Mi'ytiar ordered gruffly when you started to push down the only cover your body had, not taking his eyes off his son and his mate.

Cahrein bowed his head and quickly took his leave. He would talk about anything medical and the further necessary bed rest another time.

You didn't notice him leaving, too busy freeing your newborn son of the baby blanket that was practically drowning him.

You had knitted it when you were six months pregnant with Akail. He had been obsessed with it as long as he was a tiny pup.

Back when you were a nurse, some mothers had excitedly told you about all the preparations they had done before the baby was due. One of them had brought wool, knitting needles, and a half-finished blanket to her appointments. She had explained to you how she learned knitting only for her baby, so she could make all this stuff for it.

It was a sweet memory.

Mi'ytiar, of course, went on a trip back to earth and got you anything and everything you wanted and needed, even more than you originally needed, in hopes his offerings would please you. And you hadn't even needed to use much persuasion. Looking up at him with those big eyes of yours while rubbing the prominent baby bump was enough to prepare a ship and fly to your home planet the next day.

Sweet, sweet memories.

You were humming as Mi'ytiar crawled on the nest behind you, setting the blanket you had shrugged off to the side and pulling you on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and watched over your shoulder as you cradled your pup against your bare chest. You sighed in contentment when you could feel your son's skin against your own like it was the final thing you needed to reassure you that you were actually here, that he was real.

Without the baby blanket covering him, you finally got a good look at your son. And god, you didn't know you could fall in love a third time in your life.

He was perfect.

Unlike his big brother, he was the carbon copy of his father. While Akail did look like his father, having the same color scheme as him, the patterns were of opposite colors. His younger brother, on the other hand, didn't only have the same color pallet as his father, but the patterns of his skin were colored just the same as Mi'ytiar's. Otherwise, he didn't look much different from Akail when he had been a newborn — the same numbs on his head where his dreads would grow, the same thin and undeveloped mandibles around his mouth, the same arms and legs.

He was about the size of a human baby. It was incredible to think how big in size and height he would grow in the coming years.

You inspected every aspect of his tiny body, your fingers gliding over his torso and limbs, admiring every centimeter of him.

"You were right." Mi'ytiar suddenly said. "He was in abnormal position. He was stuck."

You stilled for a moment before you continued to coo at your baby.

"You begged me to get him out and I did. I cut in you and you…" He trailed off and grunted at his wavering voice. "You stopped moving when I pulled pup out. You were gone."

"No." You interrupted him and turned your upper body to look at him. "If I was gone, I wouldn't be here with you. With him." You moved your arms with your turned torso so his son was back in his sight. "I wouldn't be here to tell you how happy I am, to tell you how glad I am that you handled it so well. You saved his life. And mine too."

You shifted your pup into one arm to reach up and place your hand on his cheek. You didn't even need to pull him in for him to move closer and put his forehead once again against yours, closing your eyes. Since his anatomy made it impossible to actually kiss him, you decided that forehead-against-forehead was an acceptable compensation. Although it wasn't anything special, it felt so intimate with him that you didn't really miss the ability to kiss your partner.

"I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere, Mi'ytiar." You told him softly, rubbing your skin against his like a cat. "Thanks to you I'm able to continue to breathe, to walk and talk. Thanks to you I'm able to continue to love you and live my life with you, my strong and handsome mate, and our pups."

You had so many other things to say to him, but you started to choke on your words. Tears were dripping down your cheeks.

You opened your eyes when you felt something rough rub the skin under them and saw him wiping away the tears with his thumb. His other hand came up and its thumb did the same with the tears coming from your other eye. Mi'ytiar looked fondly down at you, his head cocked to the side.

"Thank you so much." You mumbled, your voice a little shaky, and buried your face into his chest.

Mi'ytiar clicked his mandibles softly and carefully pulled you closer, making sure not to crush the pup between your bodies.

"Anything for you." He purred.

He felt the wetness dripping from your eyes to your cheeks and down on his chest ease after a while. And when you lifted your head to look up at him, you gave him one of those dazzling, soft smiles he loved so much.

Mi'ytiar wanted to reach out again, wanted to pull you closer and snuggle his face into the crook of your neck to smell your sweet, familiar scent he missed so much. But sadly a certain someone demanded your attention more loudly.

The pup in your arms started to fuss again, causing you to use both arms again to hold him tight against you. Shushing him, you nestled him in the crook of your neck and stroked his back.

Mi'ytiar let out a displeased grunt before he could stop himself, glaring at his son being in a place where he wanted to be just a moment ago.

You, of course, didn't miss your mate fixing the pup with a dismayed look and you immediately knew why. This wasn't your first baby, after all.

"Mi'ytiar, don't tell me you're jealous again." You grinned up at him, not even trying to hide your amusement.

"'M not." He grunted.

"You are."

"Not."

"Mhm." You hummed, unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. "Just as you were not jealous when Akail was occupying my boobs as a pillow for a year? Or when I tried breastfeeding with him? Or when he challenged you every time you came near me even though he had just learned to walk? Or when he-"

To silence you, he bit down into your throat and you immediately went slack. It was a somewhat trained reaction every time he would do that. Where a human would shut you up with a kiss, your mate bit you. A show of dominance, without a question, and you would lie if you said it didn't turn you on. The moan that would have proofed it had almost slipped from your lips.

"Not jealous." Mi'ytiar insisted gruffly and licked over the bite mark.

"Fine, fine." You mumbled, still a little dazed from his little display of power.

The two of you stayed silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional chittering and cooing of your son, who was looking up at his parents with his big, pale yellow eyes. They would grow more intense in color in no time.

"Did you already name him?" You asked and giggled when your pup tried to snatch up your finger with which you were drawing patterns in the air, moving it around in front of his face.

You watched as your pup finally caught your pointer finger and inserted it into his mouth. You laughed when you felt his gums chew on it. His teeth would develop only in a few weeks.

"The name you chose." Mi'ytiar grunted softly.

You hummed in understanding and snuggled your face into the side of your son's head.

"Hi, Toyah."

Tag List

⇨ Hey guys, despite having only some requests to be tagged in this part, I wanted to tag any and everyone who ever left a comment on one or more parts of this series. I'm seriously so thankful, you have no idea. Thank you so much for showing interest and voicing it. Thank you so much for your kind words that kept me motivated to continue this story. But, as I said at the beginning, this is not the end of Mi'ytiar, so lets hope we see each other on more of my works in the future!

@lil-lilacwitch, @zaky-ller, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan, @haleypearce @montybooks,

@ailujsenutna, @rorrika, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @mahirublue, @00justanolive00,

@mortuaconjuga, @victor-rose, @screechingenemy18, @thewitchesofart, @skibbiescoober,

@pyreemo, @han-sirentell, @dd122004dd, @milkzze, @wildaces,

@serendipitous-fernweh, @misspendragonsworld, @bunnymysteriously, @ladygrimmx, @thelrina,

@quaritcxswifewh0re, @imaginarydreams, @vintage-bumblebee, @blaxkmagix, @beelievit,

@blmcd57110, @mythirdlife235, @the-artistic-devotee, @jojooasis, @pipocfamily,

@bimboreader, @noname2246, @sawendel, @being-worthy, @xcol2sblog,

@panpandeep00, @maxismp1, @bastet222, @candyladycry, @crowleysthings

#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

lightsoutmatthews · 1 month ago

Note

please an auston matthews with the “because i know you” prompt!

"Because I know you." - Auston Matthews

summary: a collection of things he does just shows how well Auston knows you.

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none, just fluff

authors note:

since the request didn’t specify if you wanted angst or fluff I decided to make it sugary sweet :)

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It started with a cup of coffee being delivered to your office on a random Tuesday afternoon right at the second you were thinking about getting one for yourself from the coffee station down the hall.

You didn’t particularly like the coffee from there, it was cheap and the machine somehow managed to make it worse by brewing it, but it would have held you over for the rest of the day while you continued to read through emails and write responses like your life depended on it.

The cup from your favorite café in downtown Toronto was handed to you by one of your co-workers who raised her eyebrows at you. “I didn’t order that,” you told her outright, but she handed you the cup regardless. “The delivery guy said it´s for you,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

There was no message on the cup, but you could guess from who it was. There was only one person who could know exactly when you could use a little pick me up at work.

He was smart by not putting a message on it. Your relationship not something really known to the public even though you had been together for over a year at this point.

You weren’t making a big deal about dating one of Torontos biggest athletes, especially around the office where his team was a topic of conversation on the daily. Not even your closest work friends knew who exactly you were dating. And it was good that way.

I Thanks for the coffee, exactly what I needed x

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The week after that lunch from your favorite restaurant was delivered in the same manner as the coffee was. No name on the order but yours, making your co-workers once again wonder if you were lying to them about not ordering it for yourself or if you actually didn’t.

You were knee deep into the finishing touches for one of the biggest projects of the quarter and barely had time to go and grab lunch from the cafeteria, much less to make the trip to any restaurant more than five minutes away from the building.

The delivery was godsend and like he knew, he sent enough so you had something to keep for the evening, since it was almost sure that you had to stay longer than usual and would only arrive home late, way after dinner time.

You hummed contently when you took the first bite, almost letting out a moan at how good the food felt after hours of working without taking a break.

He once again knew exactly what you needed at the right time, like he was a psychic that could read your mind all the way from his road trip across the country.

I thanks for lunch and dinner, exactly what I needed. Can´t wait to see you tomorrow. x

----------------------

The third time it happened was a week later when you finished the big presentation, and everyone gathered for a small party to celebrate the success, and that the client was happy with everything you had come up with in the weeks of hard work.

You were a little bummed because most people invited their significant others to the bar you were gathered at, unfortunately you couldn’t. Firstly, because your boyfriend wasn’t even in the country and secondly because still, no one knew who he even was.

A few of your co-workers asked about him but you kept telling them that he was away for work. Sometimes you wondered if they even believed you that he existed because you never mentioned him by name or brought him to any work functions that warranted bringing a plus one.

When a delivery person entered the bar, shouting your name for everyone to hear, you froze. “Sign here,” the guy rushed out, putting the tablet in front of your face quicker than you could react to anything.

You scribbled your signature before he handed you a box, a beautiful bouquet of flowers peeking through a hole at the top.

When you opened it, a bouquet waited for you, alongside a card.

One of your co-workers snatched it directly from the box before you could react. “Hey,” you laughed. “Congratulations on finishing your big project, sorry I can´t be there to celebrate. A.” she read.

You blushed at the message, he once again knew exactly what you needed from him in order to feel better about him not being there with you.

“Woah, we know mystery man is in fact real, and his first name starts with an A? We´ve been waiting for this confirmation for months!” you shook your head laughing. “That´s some expensive flowers, he´s got money.” Someone else chimed in.

“Give me that,” you laughed, snatching the card back before they could ask about it even more.

“One day you will introduce us to him,” someone chuckled. “Who knows, maybe you already know him,” you teased which only raised more eyebrows.

I The flowers are beautiful, thank you so much. x

--------------------------------

When you arrived at Auston´s place that night you were exhausted. The months leading up to this day catching up with you, swallowing all the energy you had left in your body, almost making you too tired to get out of the car and walk up to his door.

When you finally mustered up enough strength to make your way, he was already waiting in the frame. An easy smile on his lips, Felix next to him, excitedly wiggling his tail at your arrival.

“Hey snuff,” you greeted the dog, quickly patting his head before standing up straight again to greet your boyfriend, the flowers firm in one hand.

“Hey,” you greeted the tall man, a shy smile on your lips. “Hey,” he chuckled, opening his arms so you could slip right into his comfortable embrace.

Tension left your body as soon as he wrapped his arms around you. The familiarity of his arms taking every ounce of stress away for the moment.

“Long day?” Auston whispered in your hair. “Long month,” you replied chuckling. “Come on, I ordered some food and when were done I can set you up a bath before we go to bed.” You let out a loud sigh. Exactly what you needed.

---------------------

After eating on the couch, chatting about your days in hushed voices between laughter and shared bites, he made his way to the upstairs bathroom to set up a bath while you cleaned up the plates and made sure Felix got another snack before heading upstairs to join him.

The bathroom was lit up with a few candles he pulled from God knows where and it was smelling like your favorite bath salt. The one that you usually kept for special occasions because it was expensive.

“Since when do you have my favorite bathing salt in your bathroom?” He just laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

Raising you eyebrows at him you decided to let it go without questioning it any further and to just enjoy that he was paying enough attention to actually know what to buy.

While you were enjoying the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles and taking your mind off things Auston rumbled around downstairs doing something you didn’t care enough about to question. Every now and then you heard clinking, but it wasn’t worrying enough to go and check out.

A few minutes later he came back and handed you a glass of wine. “How did you know?” you questioned with another raised eyebrow, but he once again just shrugged and smiled before leaving you alone to soak and relax for as long as you wanted.

When the water started to get cold you got out. On the toilet laid a navy-colored hoodie. The exact one he was wearing earlier when you were sitting on the couch.

He knew one of you favorite things to do after a long day was to wear his hoodies, especially when there were worn and smelled like him.

You slipped the soft fabric over your head and inhaled deeply before putting your stuff away and making your way back to the living room after a quick detour to the bedroom to grab your phone and drop off your bag that you discharged in the hallway on your way.

Auston was snuggled up with Felix on the couch, your favorite movie already cued up, a warm blanket draped over him, the other half waiting for you to cuddle under and relax for the rest of the evening.

“You´re spoiling me today,” you mumbled after cozying up under the blanket, one arm placed on his chest, while your head rested on his shoulder.

“You deserve some relaxation after the month you had. I know how hard you worked.” A soft kiss to the crown of your head followed before the room was filled by only the sound of the movie and your soft breathing.

When you opened your eyes the next time the credits were rolling and Auston was playing on his phone. “Good morning,” he chuckled lightly before putting the device away.

“Hey,” you mumbled quietly. “Slept well?” he asked, an amused smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, but I need to go to bed, otherwise I won´t make it up,”

A soft laugh left his mouth. “Come on,” he said, getting up and holding out a hand for you to grab. When you stood at your full height he bent down and swept you off your feed, carrying your bridal style up the stairs.

“I can walk on my own, you know?”

Careful to not drop you he laughed. “I know, but sometimes you deserve to be carried.”

You shook your head but laughed at his remark.

When you were nestled in bed together, his arm lazily slung around your waist, your hand softly drawing the patterns of his tattooed arm you sighed. “What´s up?” he whispered.

“This evening was all I needed, from getting the flowers all the way to now,” you sensed that he felt a but coming. “no but, I promise, just a question,”

He nodded his head in a motion for you to go on. “How do you always know exactly what I need? Not that I´m complaining but it is a little scary that you sent me coffee the exact moment I was craving some, or sent me lunch on a day where I did not have time to get some myself?”

A quiet laugh left his mouth. “Easy question. It’s because I know you.”

“Thank you, for knowing me and for taking care of me.” You mumbled, already half asleep again. “That´s what I´m here for,” he laughed, which was the last thing you heard before you drifted off into sleep again.

#auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #auston matthews x reader #nhl imagine

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445376 · 2 months ago

Text

she/her and (name) used when referring to the reader. i do not know what compelled me to write this, and i think i might be sorry for writing it.

"do you ever drink water?"

levi opens his eyes to the sound of her voice, just to question whether the insomnia that haunts him every night was so easily whisked away under her delicate touch, to the point he'd fallen asleep and conjured that question himself.

he tilts his head back to gaze upon her blank expression, so deep in contemplation — about whether he drinks water, the thing humans need in order to survive — until their eyes meet. she smiles warm and adoringly, like there is nothing in the universe more deserving of her love than him. she leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, one that lingers even when she stands to full height again, thumbs still working circles into his shoulders to ease every instance of tension.

(but, does he drink water?)

"yes, i drink water," levi says quite flatly, much like a disappointed father. that tone of his that indicates "this is a fact. accept it, and shut up" with no room for speculation.

her mouth forms an 'o', as if his confirmation is the single-most revolutionary discovery to ever be amongst humanity. as if this piece of information could have entire books dedicated to it. there'd be history lessons spent solely on sharing this information with every new generation to come.

"you gonna ask if i've ever taken a shit, next?"

"absolutely not." a mortified grimace makes its way to her face. "i'm already aware of that, levi. have my lookouts outside the walls been so minor that you've forgotten?" she cups his face and squishes the plush of his cheeks, hovering her face just above his so there is no mistake in what she says. "i'm the reason your last memory isn't one of taking a dump in a forest...!"

levi, at the very least, snorts a laugh — well it's more like a quiet breath out his nose, but that's basically levi-speak for "that's the funniest thing i've ever heard and actually my sole reason to continue fighting, and you're so hot. have i ever said that? i love you, darling light of my life" but that's neither here nor there — and the small sound is enough to cheer up his darling light of his life, enough that she releases his face.

"i see," he deadpans, "but you've never seen me drink water."

"no, actually. never." with her elbows propped against the back of his chair, she whispers her next words like they're a crime punishable by death, and only he can be trusted to keep her confession — along with her life — safe and hidden from the public. "i have never witnessed you drink water."

and levi, well, he knows for a fact he doesn't not drink water. and it's stupid to acknowledge the time this conversation has even been allowed to happen, that it wasn't shut down after one singular, logical thought. it's as if the sensible braincells that make up his functioning thoughts have forgotten how to speak, and instead exist only to bounce up and down, chanting in unison, "yippee! attention from (name)!" and do nothing of their usual duties.

"i do." it's simple, straight to the point. though levi is still wracking his brain trying to recall the last time he did, he can only hope she doesn't press for more proof than that.

"when?" she asks, as if solely to spite him and spit on his hopes. "tea doesn't count. we're talking plain water only."

between the two, it's like a staring contest. eyes locked, an unspoken challenge. paired with one raised brow, her eyes say "you sure?" and his, so steely and full of resolve, speak back to her "damn sure". but neither back down. and the rules of a staring contest must be lost on them, ignored even, because they both blink whenever they need to, and not a lot of staring seems to be happening.

"i do," levi states again. but the repetition serves no points to his defence, rather solidifying his lack of case. in a small twist, however, this could be proof that the legendary captain really didn't need water to thrive on the battlefield; a beast worth a thousand soldiers, whilst needing the water of none.

the only downside to befall this revelation, as incredible a find as it may be, is that no artist could replicate the true depth of his pretty face. the man in the history books would be handsome, no doubt capturing the hearts of many generations to come. but— no mortal hand could possess the skill to capture his essence. but that was okay, because levi was a very, very taken man. the humans of the future would be born in a world without the fear of titans, but born too late to witness the great captain in all his glory. the future sounded lame.

"you don't sound so certain, captain." she seems triumphant to a sickening degree. using his title with that proud little smile on her face, it's a deplorable tactic to throw him off whatever thought process he'd been looped in. and it works. but, then comes a gasp that wipes that look off her face in an instant. "you do! oh...you drink water during training."

of course he does. and during those expeditions she mentioned earlier, too.

"you know, levi, i was really worried that i'd never seen you drink water," she confesses. he feels a weird twinge in his chest — the same sensation that flourishes whenever she says she loves him, or he sees the "i've spotted my levi!" smile appear at the mere sight of him. she sighs, coming forth to wrap him in a loose embrace. "really had me worried i'd done something seriously wrong to be banished from watching your hydration rituals."

levi doesn't ask why exactly that was the first conclusion to be drawn, nor why she asked about his water intake at all. he only settles into her arms, breathing a sigh of relief as finally, by some miracle, his braincells function again.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #am i allowed to apologise for disappearing for 11 months??#i will do it again unfortunately

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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months ago

Note

Not a request, just blabbering about the “not the beloved au” because. God. Poor MK. Obviously, y/n is the one suffering the most from the dynamic, but MK’s development is being stunted by the way the two kings are raising him. Never being told no, having everything and everyone live their life to accommodate around him- sure he’s still a toddler, they’re going to be stupid, but he’s resorting to hurting himself when he doesn’t get what he wants (ie Y/N, a whole person!) that is very troubling behavior.

I’d hate to see how he’d be grown up- he’d definitely still be a hero- he IS a good kid, he’d want to help people- but what happens if he’s not able to beat someone in a fight immediately or he’s outmatched? How much of him fighting would just make things worse because he’s used to the world bending over backwards to make him happy?

Poor kid.

Not The Beloved

Anon, I'm so glad you brought this up, because on surface level, NTB!MK is a little entitled menace. But when you take a moment to scratch past that unfortunate facade, then... well, yeah. He is a victim all in his own right, hard as it may be to see from a certain viewpoint. The only world MK knows is his own family and their home- his two dads, Y/N, the Flower Fruit Mountain monkeys, and the mountain itself.

The end. No school. No friends. Nothing.

And that's just the way his dads like it! Sun Wukong likes that his kiddo is isolated, stunted, socially awkward and somewhat entitled! That just makes him easier to spoil! Easier to love! And Macaque, too! If he helps to custom-cater a world that his beloved baby boy can't survive outside of? Then MK can't leave, and thus can never escape his love and care!

Which is exactly why MK needs the reader.

In spite of being everything that the little kid is not, Y/N's startling normality is the only grounding factor that MK has to let him know that something is wrong. Because Y/N didn't have the upbringing that their little brother had, they have a legitimate claim to being the least mentally-skewed of the family, which is, unsurprisingly, one hell of a boon.

Like, MK has it great... at first. Never Having to do chores or make your own food, and having your overbearing daddies brush your teeth and tie your shoes for you is awesome when you're four, but sucks ass when you're twelve and can barely function outside your role as a spoiled prince-

But! There's still Y/N!

Frustrated, jealous, and angry Y/N. Y/N, who seethes and huffs and kicks their feet and grits their teeth and punches their pillow into pulpy fluff, who curses under their breath and has to burn all the letters they write about how much they despise their family. Y/N who was only spared punishment after the scraps of those letters were found because MK cried and begged for his daddies to forgive his older sibling because-

Because Y/N, in spite of their jealously and anger, will still roll up both sleeves, sit down, and teach their little brother how to tie his shoes, how to roll up a tube of toothpaste to squeeze the last bit out, how to boil water and brown meat.

There's this normalcy to being hated by someone that anchors MK to reality, even though he's a little too young and naive to really put his grateful feelings into words, so instead it all manifests as "Y/N is my favorite person ever and ever!" that Wukong and Macaque don't like (because they are both horribly jealous) but will force Y/N to reciprocate.

And even when his beloved older sibling bullies their parents into coughing up the necessary resources in order to head off to college, MK keeps in touch with the phones he begs both his fathers to buy, and manages to maneuver them both into two strict "buts".

Specifically, "You can go off to college, but you have to keep in touch with us and MK." and "We'll foot the bill, but you have to come back and stay here during the weekends."

Which is... enough. Enough of a thread cut loose that Y/N slips free to experience at least a mildly normal life pursuing their desired field with some actual space to grow and heal and establish normal relationships outside of their toxic family.

(Even though they're definitely becoming the mom/dad friend.)

Then there's the matter of "How good of a hero will MK be without his good-natured upbringing, courtesy of Pigsy and Tang?" that you brought up, and the answer to that question is: "Don't worry about it, because MK doesn't get to be a hero."

After all, why would his dads risk losing their miracle baby?

So it isn't even "Would MK ditch a fight or otherwise give up on it when he struggles?", it's "Can Y/N bare-knuckle Red Son's cute face into pulp with only their long suppressed rage as fuel?" because MK isn't the hero of NTB- Y/N is.

And they don't ever intend on losing the new life they fought to find.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Yandere MK #Red Son #Not The Beloved

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sunflower1experiment · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 7...?

Tw// Blood, imagery of gore, neck fracturing, death.

Do you, even remember what happened?

What did you see

You pulled the lever, yes that is correct.

You had the evidence... No that is incorrect.

You had the evidence, and gave it to another but carried some of it just in case, Correct.

They shot Harley, creating a reaction of you running to his aid to cater to him, but then you were taken away. Leading to the ruin of this plan but not the backup plan, so where and what does this mean to you? Did the plan work, it obviously did yes?

If that were the case to begin with: Why did he find you bleeding? Not just that but your body was mangled to the point of needing dire medical attention or a mercy kill.

Next was the hour of joy, you started running through the building, warning everyone to evacuate, Rich was the first to notice your panic and starts to question your erratic behavior. All you could do was breath anxiously while tears start to flood your eyes for the final time. Then you both flinch when ushering screams fill the ears of everyone in the room, you then move past him upstairs.

"Hurry up!" You order the others; it felt so futile by the end of your outburst of determination to protect your fellow workers, was it even worth it?

Were the toys safe? They are safe, Correct, and incorrect..

They will suffer the consequences of eating human flesh, while your creation suffers the injuries of Prototype for protecting the "heretics", thus.... mistaking you as an enemy.

Weeks ago

Wandering down the hallways of no man's land, carrying your notes for the mapping of this prison. This was the plan you had written down for yourself, for the children and toys.

Gather food

Check the secret exit that Harley showed you years ago

Make sure Doey and the children are mentally prepared for the process.

Get it ready to leak the evidence.

Keep Poppy away from Prototype.

Go see Harley one more time....

The first few words are crossed out, you love that man, truly but you couldn't see him again. Not now, "Not yet.."

Had you paid attention you would have felt the presence of another, maybe even register the smell of flowers that lured you further towards the lab. Upon realizing the mistake and scent your mind immediately panics, was it really down here!? With a turn you gasp as robotic hands begin strangling you, your mind panicking and trying to create an image of the figure before you.

It suddenly drops your body; you gasp then try to rise up until its clawed hands jerk upward, pulling you as well, your panicked gasps and grottily cries would be in vain. The uncomfortable feeling, the sounds of a loud snap fill the room. Then it drops you when it realizes the error of its actions. Because it felt fear, from your blood...?

You gurgle pathetically, trying to speak while it begins to try and fix whatever it could, but it only made everything worse. Your screams and cries caused it to panic, it could hear you but couldn't recognize the being who had created it. Suddenly a bright idea came to mind, what if...

In the midst of all that pain, you hadn't realized Harley had found your body, his weak cries and apologies mixed with blaming your naivety made your vision blur. Your hand weakly moves, to cup his TV head before he gently presses it against your cheek. In this twisted comfort, you felt that maybe somewhere in that cold heart of his, Harley may have loved you in some twisted way.

It returns the night of your last breaths, carefully catering your remains, like Harley's procedure...

Next was your skin, it was human flesh, not perfect, not beautiful, it reeks, doesn't smell like flowers...so it grabs whatever seams, cloth, flower petals even and stitches this new body together.

All for your sake, it owes you that much for creating and dying in its hands.

It was no longer it.

No, it was merely functioning from your blood and using the memories of the cells that you gave it, this strange phenomenon of science created a thrill within Harley as he watches this masterpiece recreate you. Just like what he did with the children, Prototype shouldn't see this. Otherwise, he would hurt you too, so he watches in awe as this robotic being practically performs his own work, using a Poppy flower and catering your organs.

When it comes to, it sat up and stared at the mirror.

Despite everything...

It was you...it was still you...

Doey moves closer, Poppy does the same. Everything was quiet, the medic was the first to move over, carefully removing the cloth until the figure gasps awake. Doey shields the toys while they let out little screams in panic, but it only got more strange..

The figure had...food?

It slowly rises up, a bit wobbly before the cloak fell off, revealing a doll like figure, LED eyes and...two sets of hands. Uncomfortably, Poppy speaks with a shake in her voice. "U-Um, who are you? If you...don't leave we'll...We'll have to kill you." She didn't know what the hell to say, she was just a kid! The figure merely walks forward, revealing the same-colored orbs, you had...

"Hello, Poppy..." You say with a calm smile, with a quick blink your attitude changes as you cheerfully wave. "Hi Doey!"

"Mz!?" What happened to you!? They get ready to run to you, but you shush them gently and motion for them to move back. Too much loud noise outside of the base would attract enemies, luckily you weren't followed by anyone, but you won't take any chances.

As you place the food down, and walk along the floor of safe haven, you were met with Doey's happy nuzzles. "You're alright!? Poppy said you were a goner! I sorta, believed it."

"I did too, but..." You look at your fingers, "My...creation saved me? It made a fatal mistake but recognized me because of the blood cells I implemented within its code." Doey hums, now noticing the huge difference from months ago, so much happened over the passing months and weeks, it was hard to believe the hour of joy was practically so long ago. "How long was I, gone from here?"

"About, four weeks, and....two days, it was honestly not so bad since we had food that lasts for a long time. Even water, how did you do it?"

Doey asks, once more laying on your lap tiredly, Dogday soon moves over and enjoys your warmth too. "I... I guess, my creation did this. It probably found a way out, during my sleep my memories were contorted. Harley saved me but my creation, must've suffered some damages while protecting the toys and the innocent workers. Floral...that was its name, yes. I....that was what I wanted to name my child."

He looks at you while Dogday leans in, nuzzling your hand sadly. "I'm sorry Mz..."

You hug him close rubbing his soft ears while Doey hugs your body close, the two were the most responsive when it came to affection. Same with Kissy, she was patient with it but always very affectionate nonetheless, when things slowly calmed down you began working on the food. "Does Floral have any...cooking parts?"

You pause at the Bobby's question, "Like a pan?"

"Yea, most robots have switchy thingies." Switchy, things? You truly were stunned by such questions that you nearly forgot that Floral could actively hear this, it was searching for whatever Bobby met and your LEDs made an 'X' symbol. "Nope, sorry sweetie. but I can make fruit...bowls?"

"Okayyy." She hugs your leg, more of the critters start scampering over. A catnap holding your foot then Bubba was laying in your lap. "The critters missed you a lot."

Hoppy chuckles, "I know Dogday did, he was so worried about ya."

"Hoppy that is rich coming from you, both you and Kickin were practically waiting impatiently for Mz. Don't get me started on Bubba." The mentioned elephant gave everyone a side glance, "And what of it? The food Mz makes is way better than Doey's cooking."

Doey makes a dramatic gasp, then he holds his chest. "How dare you, I'll have you know I learned from the best chef ever. Poppy." Poppy had to hide her giggles while Kissy shook her head at their silly teasing. You couldn't help but chuckle at them for finally acting like kids for once.

In the midst of the lighthearted banter, you genuinely felt saddened by the fact that you had these kids worried. You are the only adult after all, Poppy was the second eldest with Doey right behind her. So, you needed to enact this plan soon, otherwise you'll be stuck here until everyone starves or dies.

"I have to go back up." They stop and stare at you with scared eyes, "Not today but someday, you all need to be catered to and trained for up and out there, these upcoming days will be brutal now that Prototype knows of my escape. But he is simply not after me, he's after Poppy..."

Poppy flinches when you stop talking, it can't be right. Why her of all the toys? She didn't realize how bad things were since the hour of joy, she only knew of it somewhat but, she didn't know what it meant or how far he'd go. You had told everyone about your knowledge which was why you both collaborated with Ollie.

But you didn't know about Ollie, and even if you did know, you probably would have trusted him back then, but now. She isn't sure, what she fails to understand is that if you had heard his voice before. This whole situation up to now would have changed, maybe it's a good thing, or a bad thing. Who knows.

While placing the fruit bowls down you feel Doey laying in your arms again, "Alright Doey, why are you so affectionate?" He merely shrugs and comfortably hugs you. "You're the only gentle voice that didn't lie. Thank you, Thank you....I'm happy you're here..."

You pause, hugging the doughman close, it wasn't just him talking...you could feel Jack and Matthew, but those last words were definitely from Kevin. He was a very sweet boy, just always rugged and playful, always in need of something to do. "Me too kiddos, me too."

The hours pass by, and the smaller toys were asleep. Careful to cover them and make sure everything was calm; Floral starts to emit a calming pheromone that made the air cool, the safe haven felt, nice. You had to sit beside the door while Boogie bot went to bed, your eyes look at your pair of hands. "......Why?"

'Because you didn't want to die...'

"No, why did you do that?"

'......You told me to..'

"No I didn't, I never gave the order."

'Yes, you did, we are connected by blood. I may have not recognized you, but your blood cells told me to, you were so rooted in self-loathing you hadn't realized how deep it was. I could feel every cell, pumping with anxiety! Rage, Love, Hatred, when you...when I...I could feel the fear, for once I was scared. It didn't affect me before because all I felt was defeat in my circuits that danced with your blood.'

You lean back on the door, some oil mascara dripping from your face as you sigh weakly, 'I only did what I had to do...'

"No, thank you...this was the wake up call I needed. I hate how it had to come to this; we may not understand the pain of these children. But we have to do everything we can to help them and make sure they escape...even, even if I have to lose my humanity."

Floral remains silent after that; you hug your knees close then smile lightly as a sweet doughy hand holds yours. With a gentle squeeze you sit there, rubbing Doey's hand slowly with your thumb.

These children, they're your children...

And you'll do everything and anything to protect them

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nahoyasboyfriend · 11 months ago

Text

nsfw alphabet — Seo moonjo

A/N: I'm still getting a feel for his character. Forgive me if these are ooc. I tried 😭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is surprisingly doting. Wiping you down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, massaging places he knows will be sore later. I could see him brushing your teeth for you, and helping you into a change of clothes.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't pay attention to his features for the most part but he likes his hands. They're key to his job and the creation his "art". His intelligence & poise is a good runner-up.

As for you, I think he'd like your face. Not only because he thinks you're pretty, but because he loves seeing how you react to things. Your cheeks streaked with tears, eyes all wide and glossy. It's mesmerizing to him.

Another favorite of his is your neck & your wrists. He likes to decorate them with jewelry.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It doesn't matter to him, but he does enjoy the visual of your skin glistening with his cum. But he equally likes the closeness of cumming inside.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hard to choose between him stalking you and watching you sleep, or the sick gratification he gets from getting you to unknowingly try human meat.

if we move past the creepy stuff, it might be his deep dark fantasy of total loss of control. To be tied up and completely at your mercy. But that takes a lot of trust on his part. I don't even know if he'd acknowledge he wants that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's not as experienced as he acts, but he's good enough to pretend he is. Like he's not a virgin, but he doesn't go out of his way to bed anyone. He doesn't watch porn because he doesn't get anything out of it. He prefers imagination.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything where he can see your face. He wants to be able to see how everything he's doing affects you in real time. Like how your eyes gloss over, or how your bottom lip quivers. He needs to see all of it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

nope, he treats sex very seriously. However, if he's feeling mean he'll poke fun at you a bit with that creepy little smile on his face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He definitely trims. He has a thing about good personal hygiene & maintaining upkeep.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with him is very intimate in the weirdest way. Sex with him isn't usually romantic, it's more obsessive. Very all-consuming, just like him as a person. Sex is very personal to him when it comes to you, and it's like he's trying to read your soul through touch. there's a sense of control in that to him. He wants to know everything about you.

His words can be very romantic though, murmuring about how beautiful you are, and how much he loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not something he does often, but occasionally he partakes in a little self indulgence.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Intoxicated sex, but you're the one intoxicated. Not enough that you're not cognizant of what's happening, but drunk enough your words are slurred & you need his help to function. Honestly, he likes dubcon a lot.

Being in control all the time, and I don't mean that in the sense that he likes barking out orders (though he does enjoy it) he gets something out of being the one in control emotionally too. He loves casual dominance.

Choking is another big one. He almost always has a hand wrapped around your neck. He doesn't always squeeze, sometimes he just holds it there. He's not opposed to your hands around his neck. In fact, he encourages it. Actually violence is his kink. Threaten him, fight him, direct all your hurt at him and he's on his knees.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers to do it in the comfort of his or your home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Gets off on seeing you angry. Something about it goes down south immediately. Maybe it's the thought of you getting so angry you resort to violence, but he loves it. Especially if the anger is directed at him.

Another is seeing you cry. He thinks hopelessness looks amazing on you. If you cry when you get angry, he's never been more turned on in his life. Not pretty kind, the ugly blotchy face with red rimmed eyes... The type of sadness that you wouldn't want anyone to see.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Watersports, there's nothing sexual about that to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He seems like a giver to me. Watching you fall apart is deeply satisfying to him. He'd rather give than receive, but he loves your mouth. Unfortunately, he doesn't get all whimpery & pathetic when you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's not exactly fast but he's not slow. It's hard to explain but do not believe for a second that he won't fuck you stupid. if you ask nicely he can speed it up or slow it down.

Q = Quickies (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc)

Not a big fan. He would rather wait; he doesn't like to be in a rush.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's not gonna go out of his way to experiment. He does things he knows he likes. He's not against trying new things, but you'd have to suggest it and it's up in the air if he'll do it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last for an abnormally long amount of time. It's kinda scary.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does not. He doesn't see the point when he can please himself & you just fine. It's not a jealousy thing either, he just truly doesn't think you'll ever need it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be really mean. Continuously edging & overstimulating you. He loves pushing your limits until you can't take anymore.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not too loud. There are grunts and groans scattered throughout. He talks you through it. Praising you, or if he's feeling evil, he taunts you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He does things to make sex slightly painful. Sucking a little too hard when he's giving hickeys, biting your lip too hard, fucking you without prepping you properly. He's an intense kisser, kinda suffocating. like I don't think kisses are soft and romantic with him ever. It always feels like he's trying to devour you. Pressing his lips against yours too hard, or using too much teeth. But he only has this problem when he kisses you on the mouth, gives you the softest cheek & forehead kisses.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, it's long and pretty like him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He doesn't really care for people, finding most of them generally displeasing to be around, so it's hard for him to want to have sex with anyone. However in a relationship, it's definitely higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually doesn't go to sleep. he's a night owl, and he seemingly never gets tired. After he gets you situated, he might even take a smoke break. If you're like him, the two of you might go for a walk, or simply enjoy each other's company. Though if he has to work the next day, he goes to bed by your side after.

#seo moonjo #seo moonjo x reader #seo moon joo #seo moonjo x y/n #strangers from hell #hell is other people #jadesfic

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cheeseceli · 3 months ago

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Nonsense

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu × gn!reader

Genre: fluff, fic (<1k words), strangers to potential lovers, love at first sight

Prompt: "I lost her in the crowd. It's unfair, she's out there somewhere. I wonder if we'll ever meet again"

Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of soobin (?) and a manager, beomgyu is overreacting for a second here

A/n: the way I wrote this like 5 times already with a whole different plot each time | daily click

Beomgyu is an avid believer that life shouldn't be taken too seriously. Life should be light, or at least that's what he thinks. Maybe that was why he laughed when he tripped, or why he was full of jokes no one would ever laugh at and yet he still told them, or why he was "childish". He wasn't immature, just too joyous to someone who's an adult. And that wasn't a bad thing!

He had some childish beliefs as well. After all, life is way more fun when you let yourself believe a little. See the magic of life. But everything had limits.

One of the things that even he found ridiculous was love at first sight. It was an odd fairytale, and a very strange thing to use as an excuse for when you just want to flirt with a random person. He didn't believe in it. He couldn't understand how that could ever happen.

He does believe in love. He loves a lot of things and, although he doesn't love no one romantically, he knows this type of feeling exists and that it is beautiful. But claiming to feel it at first sight, when you don't even know the person's name, is just... Irresponsible. It's a straight up lie.

He thinks love should be nurtured. It takes time. You need to be careful with it. You can't just look at someone somewhat attractive who is standing in the bus line and say you love them. You don't know what their voice sounds like, you don't know their favourite colour or movie and yet you want to claim that they are the one for you? Beomgyu would enjoy spending time talking about the biggest nonsense ever with his friends, but this talk about "love at first sight" just makes his eyes roll.

All this reluctance and denial was probably the reason as to why he didn't quite understand what he was thinking when he saw you for the first time.

You were good looking, that's for sure. Anyone could tell that. But he wasn't the kind of guy to just stare at people who he thought were beautiful. He usually had the common sense to just take note of one's appearance and look away, going back to live his own life.

And yet, he couldn't seem to stop looking at you.

You were just waiting for your order. You probably just ordered some coffee and maybe a pie, like everyone else in the cafe, but there was something odd about you.

Not odd, actually. Intriguing. Something that spiked Beomgyu's curiosity in a way that wasn't normal.

He should've stopped looking at you. But he couldn't. Your presence was magnetic, and he couldn't help but feel pulled. But it wasn't appropriate to just stare at strangers, and at some point you were going to notice how his eyes were glued to you. All those rational thoughts going on in his brain showed him he was still normally functioning, but the way he didn't look away or the way his heart was beating a bit too fast showed him that he didn't care about what his brain was telling him.

When the cashier called your name (that was very pretty, by the way), you walked there with a smile (a very beautiful one at that). It was a take out, apparently, because all the food was inside a paper bag. Beomgyu felt a little let down at that, for some reason. He wanted to see what you had ordered. Maybe you liked strawberry lemonade just like him. Or maybe you had a completely different order, one that he would probably tease you about.

Wait.

Why is he even thinking about all that?

What a weird thing to imagine, he thinks whilst he lets a humourless laugh out. He must be sleep deprived or something. Clearly the night hours spent playing games with Soobin were now affecting his brain. That was the only reasonable explanation.

He should just finish his own food and get out of there. That way, he can go home and sleep a little bit before he needs to go to work. And then, he will stop thinking about so much nonsense.

He was almost convincing himself that this was a great plan when you turned to him, getting ready to get out of the shop. He could see your face now. The smile lines your cheeks had, your eyes that contained way too much light in it and the way you confusedly froze in your spot.

Oh no. You had noticed him looking at you.

That was it. Beomgyu was never coming back to that store. Maybe he should avoid the whole neighborhood, just in case. Would his manager let him travel overseas, all of the sudden, just because this is way too much embarrassment for him to handle? He doubts it, but he could try it before-

You smiled.

It was a small one, still a bit confused and just polite enough to match it with the little nod you gave him. A small act before you walked away, leaving Beomgyu behind.

You probably thought he was just zoning out and accidentally looked at you while doing so. Your small bow was just a polite way to say "it's okay, don't panic (because beomgyu was clearly panicking), bye". It really meant nothing. An interaction that should be insignificant for the both of you, one that he should forget in an hour or two.

But for some reason he couldn't. He "met" you 20 minutes ago, but apparently that was enough to mark something in his brain. Something that was permanent, he thought to himself.

Love at first sight was a ridiculous concept. It was too much. How could one ever feel such a genuine and huge emotion so fast? Beomgyu thought it was absurd.

But maybe, and just maybe, it could be true.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: How to love you

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @firstclassjaylee @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by: @ onlyasimp4nobody | images 1, 2 and 3

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nilsavatar · 4 months ago

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DAY 23 BITING - Part 4

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!human

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Genre/Warnings: fluff, ANGST, introspective, delicate themes (hibrid pregnacy, political and ideals conflict). All characters are AGED-UP. This the sequel of the @layla2-49 request used to fullfil the promp day 23 of lunakinktober 2023

Summary: Following the unexpected pairing that occurred at the Tree of Souls, after connecting as only two Na'vi normally could, Celeste and Neteyam entertain a clandestine relationship. Several times they have discussed coming out, but the girl is too prey to her insecurities as a human to do so. It is Eywa who will decide for both of them with a disconcerting revelation: they have conceived a hybrid child.

Word Count: 4,5k

Masterlist - Request a fic

In the bioluminescent glow of Pandora’s night, Jake Sully stood at the forest's edge, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The vibrant nature around him buzzed with life, yet an unsettling turmoil brew within him. As olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and Toruk Makto, he had faced countless challenges, but none as perplexing as the transformation unfolding before him.

Celeste, a human who had become an integral part of their clan, was undergoing a metamorphosis that defied all understanding. Eywa had blessed her union with his son, yet the consequences were unprecedented. To say that the news of Celeste’s pregnancy sent shockwaves through both the scientists and the People would be an understatement. A tawtute woman carrying the offspring of a Na’vi? It was far beyond imagination. The avatar bodies—engineered through terrestrial brilliance, blending both genomes in just the right sequence to function under Pandora’s conditions—were compatible with the natives. Little Socorro was only human, though—kind of. Her body was changing, adapting in ways that blurred the lines between Earthborn and Pandoran.

The man’s mind raced with questions in the nighttime peace, hugging his half-sleeping wife in one of their occasional getaways from responsibilities and worries. Though this one was hard to forget even for an evening. “This isn’t like what happened to us,” he said, suddenly, breaking the silence of sweet slumber, thinking about Spider’s sister seated in the shade of their kelku, her hands resting on her growing belly. “I was logged in my avatar when we mated. I was Na’vi, physically. But her? There’s no scientific explanation.”

After the commute at the Tree of Souls, the clan split in two. Some supported the child as a sign of mutual prosperity, a miracle meant to exist in the balance of the world. Others, however, labeled it an ill omen, a violation of the natural order, feared what they couldn’t understand.

“It is not natural.” “Eywa may have allowed the union, but this... this is wrong.”

Jake had heard it all before. The same fright, the same resistance to change that had nearly torn the Omatikaya apart when colonizers first came back to Pandora. But this time, he got that fright. Because deep down, beneath his duty as olo’eyktan and his instinct to protect his family, he felt it too. As wild as the perennial torment that the two sides of his very identity instilled in him.

“There is no scientific explanation for Eywa,” Neytiri stated, her voice serious, resolute just as it always was when faith and Na’vi culture were at stake. It was a conviction he has never fully embraced. The need to rely on science, on logic, on the knowable, was an earthly instinct he could never entirely cast aside. That lifeline—the belief that there was a reason behind everything, something demonstrable, classifiable, repeatable—was still a part of him. Neytiri might have agreed that there was a universal design, but her understanding of it was vastly different from his. Less analytical, less tangible than the laws of physics and biology, but to her, no less real. Perhaps, in some ways, even more so.

“It’s as much a mystery as Kiri conception.” “Not of the same scale, though.” “We must trust the Great Mother nonetheless.” Jake exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. “Trusting her is one thing. Convincing the People...”

He was right. There was division among them. Leadership weighed heavily on his tired shoulders, and the safety of his loved ones, of Celeste and the baby, depended on the decisions he would make in the coming months. As the night creatures sang their melodies, Jake took a troubled breath, seeking clarity. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, and for the first time in years, he felt the sting of doubt piercing his resolve. This wasn’t just about Celeste; it was about what she was becoming and what it would have meant for all of them. He knew Pandora. He had lived, fought, loved, and lost for this world. And he knew that when the Great Mother acted, it was always on purpose, even when it felt like uncharted territory.

It started subtly; Celeste first noticed it in quiet moments—when the dizziness from exertion subsided faster than it should have, when her heartbeat, once erratic in Pandora's dense atmosphere, slowed into a steady rhythm, perfectly in tune with the nature around her. Insects that normally avoided humans drifted closer during her strollings in the forest, as if sensing that she was no longer a regular alien walking in their world. Plants reacted to her touch, sending a pleasant tingling along her fingertips. Gradually, her senses were heightening beyond the limits of her species. She could hear animals weaving through the luscious vegetation, their calls reaching her feeble ears in way they never should have.

But then, the changes became undeniable She didn’t need the mask anymore.

The moment had come without fanfare. Celeste sat at the edge of a clearing, absentmindedly sketching in her notebook as the sun warmed her skin. Tuk sat beside her, both watching Neteyam train a small group of young aspirant warriors—the few still permitted to learn under their prince’s guidance. A shadow passed over Celeste’s face, the weight of guilt settling deep in her stomach, more and more pungent. Tuk, noticing, gently patted her forearm.

“Hey, don't think about it.” Cel forced a smile, though it did nothing to brighten her tired expression. “They would have signed farce papers to train with him first. Now, half the clan despises him, and the other avoids him out of fear.” “He is still the heir to the throne.” “How much longer?” she asked, her voice tight with distress. “Tsentey's faction is gathering more support every day. If they grow into a majority, it could mean exile for you. It could...” She trailed off, her fingers instinctively tightening over the slight swell of her belly. A tear caught the sunlight before she quickly lifted her head, blinking it away. “Sorry, Tuk-Tuk. I didn't mean to upset you.” “I'm old enough to listen to you if you need me.”

Celeste glanced at her, a genuine, grateful smile breaking through the tension. Tuk—still so small, yet already so mature. The rhythms of the clan left little room for childhood. By fourteen or fifteen, many had already completed Iknimaya and faced the Uniltaron—the Dream Hunt—to find their spirit animal and take their place as adults among the Omatikaya. Tuk’s own rite of passage was approaching fast, and for sure, growing up amid the ongoing conflict with the Sky People had only accelerated that process. Yet, she was still, indeed, a child. And Celeste wished she could protect that innocence just a little longer.

“Don’t worry for me,” she said with a sly grin. “Rather tell me about Enyetan.” The young woman arched a brow, giving her a suggestive look that made the teenager blush furiously. “Don't you start too!” Laughter bubbled from the sister-in-law's lips, warm and unrestrained. The sound carried across the clearing, reaching the ever-attentive ears of her mate, who couldn’t help but smile at the rare moment of lightness in the chaos of their lives.

What no one noticed, however, was how the energy in that laughter was off—wavering, unsteady. That day, the mask felt suffocating, the air too heavy and humid against her face. Suddenly, her breathing grew shallow, her throat constricting more at every second, intense heat searing through her airways. Panic should have set in; the desperate scramble for the emergency rebreather strapped to her belt. But it didn’t. The familiar choking weight of asphyxiation never came. panic. Instead, she felt light. Open. She gulped, and the air flowed freely into her lungs.

Pure. Fresh. Alive.

Her hands trembled as she hesitantly removed the exo-pack, bracing for inevitable. She expected her vision to blur, her throat to seize, the raw, toxic atmosphere of Pandora to set her lungs ablaze. Nothing happened. She inhaled deeply. No torturous pain, no giddiness. Just... oxygen filling her chest with an ease she had never known. Cool and sweet, like taking a true breath for the first time. The world around her looked brighter, colors deeper, sounds richer, the pulse of Eywa’s life clearer in her mind.

When she turned, Tuk was staring. “Cel...” she called with big, round, unblinking eyes. “Your mask.”

Neteyam, mid-correction a boy’s stance with a bow, snapped his head in their direction, froze in place; a rare crack in his usual aplomb. Lo’ak, across the clearing, nearly dropped his spear as he strode over with a grim intensity, eyes flashing with disbelief. “Are you insane?” he blurted. “Put that back on before you drop dead!” It was only then, as every pair of eyes locked onto her, that the human girl realized what she had done. Her breath was even, her chest rose and fell without resistance. She just shook her head, equally disoriented, “I... don’t need it.”

Neteyam was at her side in an instant, his large, calloused hands cupping her beautiful face, his lemon-gold eyes scanning hers with an unreadable mix of trepidation and alarm. “How?” The question wasn’t directed at her so much as at himself, as he looked at her with those giant orbs that characterized him in moments of extreme concentration. Pupils blown wide to the point they almost covered the entire iris. An adaptation response to threat, to enhance vision, to assess danger, to track an escape. His entire frame was on high alert, wired for protection. To keep his mate safe from something that was beyond unfamiliar, though.

This was odd.

For months, he had wrestled with sleepless nights and unshakable guilt. Gilt for giving in to his urges, for silencing reason when he should have resisted. No matter how much he loved Celeste, no matter how natural it had felt to surrender to his feelings, he should have held back. Instead, he had let desire eclipse caution, and now, she was paying the price. Inside, a sick weight settled in his gut, he felt lousy. He had failed at the one thing he had been trained for: protect. Maybe Tsentey was right. Maybe he wasn’t fit to lead. the leader of his people. How could he secure the clan if he couldn't even take care of his woman?

She reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his shaking hand, her respire hitched. “It’s the child.” Because what else could it be? What other options could explain what was going on with her?

Silence fell, thick and heavy. She could see the thoughts written plainly across their faces—the shock, the unease, the dread they didn’t dare voice. The training had come to a standstill. Stiff postures, atonic stares. Lo'ak and Tuk, who had been watching open-mouthed, exchanged a glance, their usual roguery absent for once.

A student’s voice, when it came, was quiet but edged with something serrated. “This has never happened before.” “Shit,” Lo’ak exhaled, running a palm down his face. Neteyam's ears darted back at his brother’s reaction, tail lashing once before forcing himself to regain composure. Then, gently, he pressed his forehead to Celeste’s, his long fingers sliding down to cover hers over their unborn child. He tried—desperately—to ignore the whispers around them, the same echoing in the back of his mind, threatening to surface. “Isn’t this amazing, tìyawn (love)? I can finally admire you all day without this horrible mask hiding your beauty.”

Celeste giggled at his ridiculous, love-drunk words, and for a fleeting minute, her preoccupations faded. Neteyam had always possessed this quiet strength—the ability to lift the weight off others’ shoulders, to remind them of the light even in the darkest moments. But it was also his greatest flaw. He carried too much. He took on burdens that weren’t his, stretched himself thin until he was on the verge of breaking.

Still, as he pressed their entwined hands against the gentle swell of her belly, warmth spread through her—not quite human, not quite Na’vi, but something in between.

There was content for a while, the nice, peaceful fondness of being in her lover's embrace. But it didn’t last. An acute sting twisted through her abdomen. She doubled over with a cry, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “What is it?” Neteyam asked urgently, his hand instinctively landing on her baby bump, aggravation evident in both his expression and voice. She couldn’t respond; the dull ache so severe it prevented her from speaking. The sensation wasn’t just pain—it was movement. Not the ordinary flutters of a fetus developing in the womb, this was deeper, stranger, as though something resonated within her. Not far away, the plants pulsed in time with her heartbeat, their faint radiance glinting like distant stars. Celeste clutched her stomach, feeling something under her skin shift.

Kiri, who had been meditating high in the green canopy, sat upright. “It’s happening,” she whispered, her yellow eyes as large as a lemur’s.

By sunset, Celeste was in the ambulatory unit, surrounded by meds. The air soupy with tension; the sterile, white walls felt oppressive, nothing like the vast, living jungle or the cosy, homely ambience of Hometree. She sat on the examination table, palms firm over her tummy, mind reeling while they ran test after test, talking in hushed tones laced with both awe and fret.

The weight of the exo-pack she had worn her entire life was gone, yet the air in the lab had never felt stifler. Norm and Max worked in quiet urgency, moving between holo-screens displaying her vitals, their brows furrowed. The data didn’t make sense, her heart rate had slowed, more like Na’vi's than a human's. Her oxygen saturation was perfect—too perfect—the high carbon dioxide levels in the Pandoran atmosphere should have been affecting her, but they weren't. The ultrasound showed something incredible. She had developed wichow—the specialized organs, similar to kidneys, that allow natives to extract oxygen for their bloodstream from Pandora’s otherwise toxic air. A natural filter. A biological unfeasibility for her, still there it was.

Then there was the genetic scan. And that was when everything changed.

“This is phenomenal,” one doctor exclaimed, rubbing her temples as she stared at the results. Adjusting her glasses, she leaned closer to Max. “Her DNA is evolving. Look at his—her respiratory system has adapted to filtrate Pandora’s atmosphere, but it’s not solely adaptation. It’s... transformation.” She turned to the patient, her eyes filled with both scientific fascination and deep concern. “Your body isn’t just compensating for the pregnancy, Cel. It’s rewriting itself.” “What does that mean?” Neteyam’s reassuring grip on her shoulder stiffened while she shuddered. Max didn’t sugarcoat it. “The fetus isn’t a simple hybrid,” he explained, voice calm but dour. “It's triggering changes in you. Something in its DNA is interacting with yours in a way we’ve never seen.” She swallowed hard, “I’m... mutating.” Jake's words came out through clenched teeth, his jaw tight enough to snap. “That’s why she can breathe out there.”

Neytiri stood rigid near the door, her narrowed eyes fixed on the glowing monitors. She didn't fully grasp the science behind the data plashing across the screens, nor the theories the experts were debating. But of one thing, she was totally sure: they had entered unknown territory. There were no answers here, no precedents. And the deeper they went in, the more question marks and anxieties sprung up. The creature Celeste was carrying was extraordinary in every sense of the term; not yet born, and already it was reshaping the world around it. This child—this impossible child—was changing everything from its very core.

But Celeste could see the unspoken fear in her eyes.

Kiri, who had insisted on coming, stood by her bestie’s side, her yellow orbs bouncing between the readings and her own intuition. “My nephew is part of both worlds. And now, so is Cel,” she stated softly. Spider shook his head, still baffled, struggling to wrap his mind around the unsettling reality. “That’s not how genetics works.” The future tsahìk observed her friend with a grave look. “Nawna Sa’nok’s touch lingers on you,” she declared, pressing a cool palm on her forehead.

Spider’s expression darkened, memories surfacing of all the times he had found Kiri lying in the middle of the wilderness, lost in a trance, nature beating around her. The way plants reacted to her touch, how she had tamed her ikran with freakish ease, how she swam through the currents, breathing underwater without any training as if she had always belonged to them. “You have felt this way before, haven’t you?” he asked, voice aloof with realization. Kiri nodded. “Not like this,” she admitted. “But yes. I have felt a... pull. A connection.” Her glance glimmered to her friend’s stomach. “It’s like Eywa’s energy is flowing through her.” Neteyam’s jaw clenched, his hold on Celeste’s stronger. “Is she in danger?” His sister’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “Was I?” she retorted, her words heavy with meaning.

“She’s not you.” Spider rubbed things in, rough, blunt, unable to conceal his growing agitation for his twin'. “Yet she has been chosen exactly as I was. As my mother was.” “Your mother was an inanimate body in a fucking tank! She wasn't risking anything.” His remark was harsh and cruel, the tone leathery with frustration, but Kiri didn’t flinch. She knew he didn’t mean to hurt her. If anything, he had always been one of the few who had stood by her, defended her when others doubted. But just like everyone else in that room, Spider was terrified. As much as it hurt on a par with an anvil, she could find it in her heart to justify him. Celeste reached for him, squeezing his hand with one of hers while the other rested on her hip. The warmth inside her, the link she felt deep in her bones, was changing her at a fundamental level.

“Will I survive this?” she finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. The medical team couldn’t answer that question; the entire ordeal was new to everybody. Neteyam tensed beside her. Jake and Neytiri exchanged glances, the weight of precariousness dense between them, the pressure in the unit mounting at any second.

Truth settled over them like a murky, noxious fog. Neytiri’s ears flattened, her tail rolled dolefully around her leg as if seeking comfort in making herself small. One hand clamped against her chest, the other tentatively sought her husband's touch, resting on his contracted arm. His fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white, his other hand raking through his dreadlocks as he inhaled noisily through his flat nose. They had never shown such vulnerability before, or at least not at this magnitude. As parental figures, as leaders of the Omatikaya, they had always carried their burdens with quiet strength—as their firstborn son had learned to do. But now, stripped of that armor, their fear was palpable.

This only made Neteyam even more nervous. His whole frame was taut, trembling on the verge of exploding. His eyes, wide, glassy, shimmered with unshed tears, perfectly round and reflective like polished stones. He was there, present among them, but his spirit was somewhere far away. Cel—the love of his life— could have died, and no one could have stopped it. And for what? A child they never needed? A future they never chose? Why was Eywa doing this? Why them?

Their love was already complicated—strained by their incompatible species, haunted by past pain and resentment, burdened by the expectations of his status. He had thought he could cast it all aside, that he could embrace the reward the Great Mother had granted him. But that gift came with conditions—conditions so heavy that, had he known them in advance, he might have turned away. Yet none of it mattered. He would sacrifice his own happiness if it meant keeping Celeste safe.

In the fragile months after they had first come together, he had offered nothing but solace and praise. He had consoled when she was in distress, lifted her up when she doubted herself, encouraged her to trust her decisions—even the reckless ones as this one. But now, standing at the precipice of something unknown and terrifying, he could no longer do the same. He wished, more than anything, that he possessed the human gift for lying. At times like these, it would have proven useful—even if only to convince himself that everything would be fine, that at the end of this impossible journey, they would be happy. The three of them. Three, not two. Not just him and the baby. Not just him alone. Imagining a life without her was unbearable, and he refused to linger on the thought.

For a brief moment, once the initial panic had subsided, he had even allowed himself to believe that what was happening was beautiful. A miracle. Celeste could now breathe Pandora’s air—something that would surely help her through the long months ahead. But now, with this new revelation, he could no longer meet her gaze with comfort. Those warm, sweet, frightened, yet fiercely brave eyes searched his for reassurance. He had none to give.

Na’vi do not lie. And he would not offer false hope for something that, deep in his heart, frightened him so terribly.

As agitation grew, Norm reluctantly stepped forward and stroked his foot with the caring and kind manner of an uncle. “Look, we need more tests before we jump to conclusions. Right now, the priority is monitoring Cel’s condition. If your genome keeps reconstructing at this rate, we have no idea where it will end.”

The days blurred together in a haze of tests, scans, and restless nights where Celeste lay awake, feeling her body shift in ways she couldn’t see but knew were happening. The lab’s artificial lights felt oppressive, suffocating. The sterile environment clashed with the instincts waking inside her. She craved the jungle, the open air of Pandora—she needed to feel the earth beneath her feet, to hear the hum of life all around her. But every time she voiced this, Jake or Neytiri would exchange wary glances, and Neteyam would grip her hand a little tighter, unwilling to risk anything.

The fear in his eyes was worse than anything else. But the changes weren’t waiting for permission.

She no longer needed the exo-pack to breathe, that much was obvious. But it wasn’t just that: her lungs had changed. Max’s latest scans confirmed it. “They’ve elongated,” he said, adjusting his glasses as he stared at the results. “Your oxygen absorption rate has increased. You’re breathing like a Na’vi now.” Celeste touched her ribs absently while taking a deep breath from the inhaler—one designed for avatars and natives alike. She had already felt it. The deep, instinctual way her chest expanded when she inhaled, the effortless intake of Pandora’s air as if she had been born for it.

And her skin, once the soft beige of an Earthborn, had begun to repigment in tone—a faint iridescence beneath the surface was spreading, veins shimmering faintly in dim lighting. It wasn’t full bioluminescence like the Na’vi, but it was close.

Then there were her senses. At night, she could see in the dark. Not just in the way humans adjusted to low light, this was different. Colors took on a richer depth, details sharpened beyond what should have been possible. Smelling the lightest traces of the rainforest that clung to Neteyam’s skin, the sticky whiff of the cerulean paint his brother painted his body with, the pungent tang of disinfectant in the lab, once a mild annoyance, now felt nauseous. Scents she had never detected in the past. And her hearing—she could pick up sounds that no one else in the lab could. Conversations whispered in corners, the rustling of fabric from another room. She didn’t tell anyone, but she could hear the low, rhythmic hum of the planet itself when she closed her eyes. It was overwhelming.

And the baby—the baby was growing fast. Too fast. At just four months, she already looked closer to six. The doctors were baffled, worried. The hybrid nature of the child seemed to be accelerating everything as if her body wasn’t just adapting—it was rushing to keep up with whatever the baby needed.

Neteyam never left her side. She felt his hands on her belly every night, felt the quiet reverence in his touch as he whispered to the child in Na’vi, his forehead pressed to hers in silent devotion. But she also felt his dread. The terror that she would slip away from him. That she would become something unrecognizable or disappear entirely.

Celeste stared at her reflection in the sterile glass of the lab’s observation window, barely recognizing herself. Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline of her cheekbones. Were they more angular than before? It wasn’t just weight loss. The structure of her visage was subtly shifting—her features elongating ever so slightly, her eyes taking on a faint amber hue that had not been there before.

And her hair. It had thickened, the strands darkening from their usual color to something richer, a shade closer to the inky black of the People. When she moved, the fine strands caught the light in strange, reflecting tones of deep violet and green—pale but unmistakable.

The changes weren’t just superficial. Her senses were growing keener by the day. She could hear Jake and Neytiri talk outside the room, even through the sturdy walls. She could smell the faintest traces of the jungle that clung to Neteyam’s skin, scents she had never been able to pick up before. The stench of disinfectant of the compound, once lightly noticeable, now felt almost insufferable.

Then there was the most undeniable proof of her metamorphosis, the most disturbing change—her queue.

the way her body responded to Pandora’s energy. She could feel the pulse of the world in a way that made her dizzy. When she stepped outside, the very air around her seemed to hum against her skin. The plants, the ground, the very life of the moon—it was as if she were beginning to tap into something bigger, something she had never been meant to connect with as a human.

And the most undeniable proof of that was her queue. It had appeared three nights ago. Celeste had woken in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her entire body burning as if feverish. Neteyam sprang into action immediately, pressing a damp cloth to her forehead, whispering soothing nothings as she gasped through the strange, intense sensation of her own body warping itself. When the pain finally ebbed, she had felt it, something pulling at the base of her skull. A tendril-like appendage forming, hidden beneath her thickening hair. It wasn’t fully developed—not yet—but the sensation was undeniable. A strange tingling at the back of her neck, as though her body was forcing her into something closer to the Na’vi.

The moment Neteyam realized, his eyes had gone wide, caught between stupor and scare, his hand trembling as he brushed over the barely formed kuru. He exhaled shakily, his gaze raw, almost reverent. “You’re not human anymore.”

Taglist: @minnory @faith2155 @stardream14 @akari-rosefield

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 10 months ago

Text

my lil' jealous boy - John Marino

Word Count - 3k

Requested - Yes by a lovely anon who asked "John Marino smut please where he gets jealous when his new teammates flirts with his girlfriend because they don’t know who she is yet 🥹🫶🏻" and another lovely anon sent this in "John Marino smut please where he just ignores when girls flirt at him but when y/n gets flirted by other guys he gets so protective and angry 🥹"

Summary - Deciding to meet John at the bar as he's coming from the rink because it was easier. But what happens when one of his new teammates decides to flirt you not knowing that you were John's girl.

Warnings - dominate boy/ submissive girl , jealous boyfriend, semi public sex

Author's Note - Thank you to both of you nonnies for requesting. I hope it's everything you thought it would be. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Masterlist

Since John’s new team, the Utah Hockey Club had so many new players this year. The franchise decided to do a family skate to kick off the new year today. Afterwards, the players and wags were planning on going to a bar to kick off the new season. Normally, you would go to all the family skates of Johnny’s past teams - New Jersey Devils and Penguins. But since you both just officially moved to Utah a little over a week ago, your new apartment was an actual disaster of boxes from Jersey, Michigan and new amazon packages. Mentally you couldn’t spend another day walking through an apartment that was half unpacked, so you and Johnny both agreed that you would just meet everyone at the bar after.

John helped you tackle unpacking the kitchen so that it was functional before he left for the family skate. Spending the rest of the day jumping from the kitchen to the guest bedroom, the living room, the master bathroom. Although you didn’t finish everything you felt much better by the time 7 rolled around and you needed to start getting ready to go out. Taking a much needed shower and then deciding to wear a simple floral dress and some white high top vans and some light make-up knowing that everyone else would be dressed casual as well since coming from family-skate. As you were leaving your apartment you felt your phone buzz as you were locking the door, assuming it was the uber you ordered you looked down surprised to see a text from Johnny.

my johnny 💞

Hi baby, the family skate ran late so you might get there before me.

Walking outside you wait until you get into your uber to answer Johnny, telling him that it was okay and you weren’t even there yet. After a quick 20 minute uber ride you arrived at the bar, walking in you survey the crowded bar to make sure that Johnny wasn’t here already. Deciding to just order yourself a drink after the long day of unpacking the new place. Opening your phone you send John a quick text to let him know that you’ll be waiting for him at the bar when he arrives. Once you get your favorite drink and open a tab for yourself you open Instagram and start mindlessly scrolling while waiting for Johnny to come.

Getting lost in scrolling your feed, not sure how much time has passed. Suddenly feeling a body close to yours at first you assumed it was just someone trying to order a drink in the busy bar, but then you felt them pressed a little too close to comfort forcing yourself to look up. But before you can tell them to kindly back off they start talking to you.

“Whoa, you're even more beautiful than I imagined.” the guy says.

“Thanks.” trying to make your face look the most uncomfortable as possible, wishing that Johnny didn’t run late and he was here so this dude wouldn’t feel the need to hit on you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here by yourself.” he asks with a grin, but you can see his eyes traveling down the v-line in your dress and suddenly you regret wearing this dress.

“Just waiting for my boyfriend actually.” you mumble, looking at the door hoping that he walks in soon because sadly you don’t see this guy leaving you alone soon.

“Oh he must not be very smart to leave you alone in a bar full of professional athletes like myself. “ he smirks like the fact is supposed to impress you and you have to resist the urge to not roll your eyes.

Suddenly you feel someone's presence behind you and you relax when you hear John’s familiar soothing voice. “What was that about me not being smart Douglas?” his jaw setting, and you were grateful his aggravated tone that was directed at his new teammate wasn’t directed at you. One of his arms went to wrap around your waist, stepping behind you and pushing you back so your back was flushed with his chest. Taking his other hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist bringing it to your chin, slowly turning your head so he could greet you.

“Hi handsome.” you softly say to greet him as he closes to the distance for what you assumed was a quick peak but quickly turned heated as he bit your bottom lip silently to enter his tongue in your mouth. Sadly it ended as quickly as it began as you were reminded where you were standing when you heard someone clear their throat in front of you. Although you pulled away, your cheeks a slightly flushed from the kiss and someone interrupting you both. John didn’t seem bothered at all and didn’t even glance at his teammate trying to get both your attention.

“Hi baby.” he says a little louder than needed, obviously wanting his teammate to hear him. “Sorry I’m so late, parking was an absolute nightmare.” he mumbles as he turns back to his teammate, squinting his eyes in what could only be described as annoyance.

His teammate who you recently learned was named Douglas was nervously stumbling out an apology, tripping over his words. “Sorry Mariano I wa- wou - would've never if I knew she was your” but before he could finish his apology John cut him off.

“I know. But word of advice kid.” he says, as he steps to your side his hand is still wrapped around your waist, his hand never even attempting to leave your hip. “Next time a girl tells you she has a girlfriend whether you think she’s lying or not.” He steps closer to the blonde haired boy although he was taller than John you could tell Douglas was nervous. “Don’t respond that you're a professional athlete Curtis, you sound like a dick and also chances are if she is lying about having a boyfriend it’s because she isn’t interested. And do you really want someone who’s only with you cause you play in the NHL.” As he finishes his words he steps back to fully embrace you and you hear Curtis say something else before he hurries off to the rest of the team that has taken residence in the back corner of the busy bar.

“Well I haven’t seen you act like that before.” you tease John, seeing how far you can push his buttons before he pulls you away for being a brat.

“Shut up.” he mumbles he doesn’t even look at you flagging the bartender down to order himself a beer and you another drink. Looking down he notices that you already had a drink and suddenly he had bitterness in his voice as he asked, “please don’t tell me he brought that for you?” His usual bright brown eyes now dark with a new maddening look and it made you clench your thighs as you leaned over to him.

“It’s not, but what would you do if it was?” you whisper a coy smile on your lips as you watch John take a deep breath trying to control his breathing. Deciding to push your luck even further you jump off the bar stool. “Come on Johnny dance with me.” you say as you walk backwards to the makeshift dance floor swaying your hips to the beat of music, stretching one arm out to Johnny as your other goes to play with your hair. John knew what you were doing, you wanted a reaction out of him and he was putty in your hands as he took your seat and watched you dance by yourself for a little. He was enchanted by you, a smile on his face as he sank into the bar stool that you were sitting in moments ago. His eyes followed every little move as you got lost to the music, lost in your own little world. Until he noticed the wandering eyes around you and how the men around you were trying to undress you with their eyes and then he was even more bitter than when his teammate tried to hit on you. Abonading both your drinks at the bar, deciding he can buy new ones late, he walks up to you pulling you by the hips into his embrace.

“I hate this.” he whispers in your ear. Not noticing the eyes following you around the dance floor yet, you give John a confused look. “I hate how everyone is trying to undress you with their eyes, including fucking Douglas” Bending closer to your ear, you can feel his hot breath breath of the top of your ear as he says “your mine.” Gently going below your ear to the sensitive spot on your neck teasingly biting it. Closing your eyes immediately to the feeling and moving your neck slightly to give John more access as your breath quickens at the sudden movement. He starts to leave wet kisses down your neck as you continue to dance against him.

“Ahh John.” you lightly moan just loud enough for him to hear, encouraging him to pull you closer kneading your ass as he continues your attack.

“Your so fucking beautiful” as he leaves another small nip down your back. “And sexy.” moving further down your neck, his mouth now where your collarbone and neck meet. “Look at you gasping for air and all I’ve done is kiss your neck. You think they can do that to ya?” His words spitting out of his like venom as he contonies “Think they make you feel this good.” Before you can even answer he bites hard on where your neck and shoulder meet and it takes everything in you not to cry out in pleasure in this bar.

“No only you.” you gasp and he rewards you by pulling you into a deep kiss, fighting for dominance, your tongues battling before he slips his tongue in your mouth and lets out a light moan. The kiss only gets more heated, both of you forgetting that you’re in the middle of the dance floor. Finally pulling away for air, John’s leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. As you both take a few deep breaths, you can tell that John is trying to control himself and not sneak you away to the nearest bathroom or out to his car. But you decide to push him further to his limit by teasing him even more. “Johnny” you whine, he snaps his eyes open at the sound of you calling his name standing up on your toes so you can whisper in his ear easily slipping into your submissive roll when you whisper. “ Please make me feel good.”

“Fuck” he goans as his pupils became blown with lust. He closes his eyes for a second and you can tell he’s having an internal battle of what to do. Next thing you know he grabs your hand dragging you to the back hallway. He quickly pulls you into the single stall bathroom and locks the door behind you. Quickly moving his way to your neck leaving open mouth kisses all the way down all the way to the deep v cut of your dress. “God you’re so beautiful” dragging his teeth across the part of your boob that’s exposed causing you to moan in response.

“Please Johnny do something.” needing to feel him do something to help the arch between your legs.

He pulls his head back with a smirk on his face as he says in a cocky voice “Uh uh you said make you feel good you didn’t say when.” A full on shit-eating grin on his face now as he watches your face scrunch as if you're in pain as you process his words.

“Johnny.” you beg, you know your next words will cause you get to punished for being a brat but at this point you can’t seem to care, as you say “do something or do I need to go get one of your teammates.”

“You fucking wouldn’t” he spits his words his jealously from earlier consuming his body again.

“Try me.” Now it was your turn to smirk.

Grabbing you by your wrists he pulls you the sink “God your such a fucking brat” as he turns you so your hands grasp the sick, making you bend over so that your ass is slightly sticking up your underwear on display due to the shortness of your dress. “I should just leave you like this” Slapping your ass hard enough to leave a handprint. “Make you sit in your own wetness all night” slap “cause of your own goddamn mouth.” slap. Each slap slap of your ass causing you to push your ass up further moaning for more. “Is that what you want, princess?” He only calls you princess when you're being a brat and it makes you try to clench your thighs at the nickname. “should that be your punishment?” slap.

“N- no.” you stumble out. “Please, I just need you.” you whimper making eye-contact with John through the mirror.

“Ya think you can be quiet.” he asks as he brings you up so your back is flesh with his chest as he starts to suck on lightly on the back of your exposed shoulder,”I don’t want anyone else hearing your pretty little moans.” nodding your head yes at his words. “Naw naw you know the rule, gotta hear you say it princess.”

“Yes Johnny I- I’ll be quiet whatever you want.” you stutter out.

“Good girl.” he rewards you by pulling your underwear down, his finger teasing your entrance. “Shit your soaking baby.” he exclaims, not sure if he’s talking to you or just making a statement. But you don’t care biting your lip at the feeling of him finally touching you. Closing your eyes focusing on the feeling of his finger at your entrance trying to push back to feel his finger more. “Naw naw I'm in control.” he says darkly as you feel his finger disappear whimpering in response, biting on your bottom lip to try and stay quiet. Suddenly you hear him undo the belt of his jeans and your clench around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come.

“Look at you such a slut for my cock your already clenching baby.” John teases you as he brings his dick to your core slowly pushing himself into you, barely giving you time to adjust before he’s pulling out to thrust back into finding a steady space. “God your fucking wet. Who made you this way huh princess.” he grunts out as he takes one of his hands and moves it to your neck lightly pulling your hair back forcing you to make eye contact with him in the mirror.

“Ya’ you- Johnny only ya- you.” you moan.

“That’s right.” grunting his teeth as he answers you. Taking his hand that was squeezing your hip, pulling it around to draw circles on your throbbing clit. Between his hand pulling your hair, his other rubbing fast circles on your clit and the hard steady thrusts of his dick into your core you're a moaning mess. Your hands sliding forward giving John a new angle letting him abuse your g-spot over and over.

“Joh - Johnny I’m close.” you whimper looking at him in the mirror, tears almost in your eyes from all the teasing before and the need to cum. Your words cause John to quicken his speed, his balls hitting the curve of your ass with each thrust causing both of you to moan louder.

“Fuck. Me to baby.” he moans. “You gotta wait just a little longer princess.” he grunts.

Not knowing if you're gonna be able to restrict yourself from cumming you feel yourself tear up. “Please Johnny. I - I -” you beg your eyes threatening to cry. “Please please can I cum?” you beg.

One look at you, almost in tears and for the first time all night for a second you swear you see his eyes soften to his normal soft brown color. “Okay baby let go it’s okay.” he grunts and with that you feel every muscle in your body tighten as you throw your head back on John’s shoulder as you moan letting yourself finally released for the first time tonight. John continues his assault on your clit but moves the hand from your hair to squeezing your right boob playing with the nipple. Continuing to thrust in and out of you at a hard and fast pace hitting your g-spot with every thrust helping you work through your orgasm.

“Johnny fuck right there da - don’t stop.” you moan completely lost in pleasure, your moaning triggering his own orgasm as he shoots his cum into you. Slowing down his thrusts slightly as he works through his orgasm finally completely coming to a stop. John lets go of you bringing both his hands to hold your waist much more gently than before his forehead resting on your shoulder as you both try to bring your breathing back to normal.

A small chuckle leaves your lips as your head is still resting on his shoulder. He lifts his head up a wide smile on his lips. “What?” he asks.

“It’s just all this because you got jealous that some new teammate offered to buy me a shot.” you tease him another chuckle leaving your lips.

“Shut up, you loved it.” he teases back at you, slightly squeezing your hips as he pulls out of you, grabbing some toilet paper to clean you.

“Oh I’m not saying I didn’t.” Smirking as you reach for your underwear, pulling it back up as you turn around, as John throws the toilet paper away. Putting your hands on his chest you lean up to him, peaking his lips quickly “I actually find it adorable when you become my lil’ jealous boy.” you tease.

“Hahaha very funny. I'm gonna remember this next time a girl tries to flirt with me and you get jealous.” Grabbing your hand making your way to the door to unlock it.

“Alright whatever you say babe.” continuing your light teasing as you exit the bathroom rejoining his new team for a round of drinks.

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