#SOOOOO DAMN GOOD WHAT THE HELL

[eiichiro]

— do you think i'm afraid of that?! beat loudly, heartbeat!

ONE PIECE (1999-?) ✴ EPISODE 1072 created by eiichirou oda

[77ngiez]

stalker sanya is canon btw bcs i said so

[hunter-rodrigez]

As sketchy as the oceangate submarine was... you can bet your ass every single one of musky's endeavors would look just as sketchy if it wasn't for the fact that he's forced to work with government regulators.

Hell, most of his projects are this sketchy if you look a bit closer. For example: the tesla tunnels.

No fire suppression system, no emergency exits, no emergency lighting, no way for EMS to get through, no fucking nothing. I am pretty sure it's not even big enough to open the car's doors.

Or the Cybertruck that's a deathtrap for both the people on the outside and the people on the inside because it utterly disregards the last 50 or so years of advancements in car safety technology such as crumple zones or safety glass

Or the tesla model 3 where you can't even open the back doors without power. So if you're in an accident and lose power... good luck getting your kids out of the back, especially when the huge battery is turning into a huge, unextinguishable flamethrower.

Or the fucking starship launchpad that was utterly destroyed by the rocket and threw huge concrete chunks and other debris around for miles... which, incidentally, also destroyed the rocket.

That's what all these self-proclaimed Silicon Valley tech bro geniuses are like.

They all think they know better than everyone else, and that rules or consequences don't apply to them, and they see safety as little more than an afterthought.

It's why Ai and social media algorithms are used sooooo ethically. It's why amazon and facebook try to find out everything about you and happily sell that data with no disregard for what it could be used for.

It's about damn time one of these CEO dipshits got killed by their own dipshitery, I just wish it had been musk or bezos instead...

Once again, in conclusion:

[wewontbesleeping]

can't believe i'm sitting here, frustrated beyond belief, at the exact same math i used to easily do when i was 14 years old

[0i8ma]

I GOT MY MCDONALDS

[griffonsgrove]

NSFW Alphabet || Lucifer Morningstar

Hello my sweeties!! Been a while but I thought I’d break the hiatus with something a little fun. The last time I posted, I hadn't seen the entirety of Hazbin, but now I have so I definitely have had more time to fully flesh out my thoughts on the characters a bit more >:] I think I’ll get started on all of your lovely requests asap!! Ty for being so patient and please enjoy!!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel cw: sexy fun times be warned wordcount: 1758

  Fandom: Hazbin Hotel cw: sexy fun times be warned wordcount: 1758

 NSFW Content 18+ Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Lucifer is such a sweetie!!! He’ll always be sure to check in on you, make sure that you're ok, clean you up and tend to you, especially after a particularly rough session. After coming down from that post-sex high, he’ll become really cuddly and cling onto you like a koala, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 

That’s not to say he doesn't like being pampered as well, it's tough work being the king of hell! Sometimes he just wants to be coddled and doted on by his wonderful, sexy partner.

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

Being the sin of pride, I’d have to say Lucifer’s favorite body part would have to be those big ol’ magnificent wings of his. They’re a sign of his status and power, plus he’ll never get tired of the way your face lights up when you gaze upon them.

For you however, he loves your face. Watching those cute little reactions you make while he pleasures you, or watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hits that spot deep inside of you. He likes knowing that he makes you feel good. (It boosts his already massive ego).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Thick and pearlescent. I'm not joking, it has a slight shimmer to it. It’s tangy on the tongue at first but has a sweet aftertaste. He prefers cumming inside of you, he feels like it's more intimate that way and it satiates his more primal instincts

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Wants you to sit on his face sooooo bad. Like full weight and everything. He doesn't care about the potential risk of suffocating either, he actually welcomes it. Lucifer is already a self-deprecating person and thinks he would die a very happy man with your thighs trapped around his face and surrounded by your scent.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I mean- He’s technically had two wives and has a child- I think it's safe to say that he’s pretty damn experienced when it comes to making love. He’ll always put your needs before his own though, confident in his ability to make you see stars.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As stated previously, Lucifer loves being able to see your face, so anything where he has you in his sights, such as the classic missionary, mating press, cowgirl, rocking horse, and the lotus position are a few of his favorites.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Oh he’s an absolute goofball a majority of the time. Cracking jokes, doing funny faces, or even making really bad puns that somehow correspond to whatever situation you find yourself in. There are of course softer moments between the two of you, but he takes great pride in being able to make you laugh or giggle when he’s balls deep inside.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Lucifer likes to keep himself well groomed (presentation is everything!). Hes definitely not baby smooth, but he does have a small patch of blonde curls at the base of his crotch. Occasionally trimming when he thinks they’ve grown out of hand.

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

I’d like to think despite his goofy demeanor, Lucifer really can be sweet and attentive during sex. He really just wants to be loved as much as he loves you, so he puts the utmost thought and care when it comes to pleasuring you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't think Lucifer would indulge in jerking off that often. In his mind, he doesn't need to waste the time touching himself when he has you! Of course also being the king of hell leaves him with not a lot of time to get away with cranking one out. 

If he ever finds himself needing some release and you’re not around (which isn't often), then he’ll give in and finally touch himself, thinking of you 100% of the time.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BREEDING. 100% has a breeding kink, you can't change my mind, the mere thought of seeing you with a round, swollen belly, carrying his child? It’s enough to have him nearly busting in his pants right then and there. Mommy/Daddy kink - This goes both ways, he enjoys being called daddy and even refers to himself as such a majority of the time, it kinda sets off a primal desire in him. But also, loooooves referring to you as daddy/mommy as well, especially if he's subbing. Bro gets a kick out of being topped. Which leads to the next kink:

 Authoritarian - Listen, Lucifer obviously has a type when it comes to choosing his partner alright? Being the short king that he is, if you’re significantly larger/taller than him that’s all he wants in a partner. It’s hard work running an entire realm, sometimes he just likes having someone else take charge for once.

Praise - They don't call him the sin of Pride for nothing. He needs to know how good he’s making you feel, please tell him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s not picky, but likes to keep things somewhat secluded, so anywhere within the sanctity of your shared home is free game. Although I do think that he’d get a kick out of fucking on his throne, he loves the display of power.

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

Doesn't take much to get him going if we're being honest. He’s a pretty basic guy, if you dress up in some new fancy lacey get up, he’ll jump on you right then and there. He really does just love to admire your natural beauty.

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

Anything that will physically harm you to an extensive degree. He loves you with all his little heart and he can't imagine inflicting any sort of long lasting wound to your beautiful body, he wouldn't forgive himself. There are of course exceptions (he’ll slap your bum, or give you a teasing pinch, maybe even a few love bites when he gets carried away) but never anything extreme.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) LOVES GIVING. He’s a munch for sure. There’s just something about your taste that drives him wild, it’s like ambrosia for him, and he’s hella skilled with his tongue too.

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

It really depends on the mood. Lucifer likes to take his time with you, so I feel like he tends to lean more towards slow and sensual love making, but there have been times when he’s been incredibly needy and desperate and just needs to hold you down and drill into you.

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

Lucifer’s a busy man, so I feel like quickies may become a recurring thing, whether that be in between meetings, calls or events, it often leaves him pent up and needing to release that stress.

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

Very experimental I feel. Wants to at least try everything once, just to see if he likes it or not, but he’ll never try to push your boundaries or try to make you uncomfortable.

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

He’s an angelic being, I can imagine he'll be able to go for hours. Hes literally pure energy, you’re the one that usually ends up tapping out after numerous rounds, and he’ll follow you soon after.

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

Honestly, I dont feel like he’d personally have any toys for himself but would definitely get them to try out on you. As i’ve said he’s pretty experimental, and is always looking for new ways to spice up your sexy times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Big teaser, but not to the point where he’s mean. He never wants to intentionally hurt your feelings; he’ll feel so bad. He does like to see how bashful you can get though when he asks you certain questions or praises you.

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

LOUD. I don't make the rules. This man will NOT shut his mouth whatsoever, he wants you to know how good you're making him feel ok? He’s soooo whiny it’s kind of pathetic at times but you love it. If he’s really carried away he wont even speak, just letting out a strain of deep grunts and growls into your ear.

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

I touched on this briefly earlier, but honestly, Lucifer just wants to be taken care of. He’s so used to looking out for others and running the entirety of hell that it's no surprise he quickly becomes overwhelmed and depressed. Even if it’s just for a day, he’d love to not have to worry about anything, just being coddled and tended to by his partner.

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

Lucifers got a pretty darn good package. Nearly 7 inches in length, uncut, the same pale white as his skin but fades into a soft pink at the tip, with a prominent vein that runs along the underside. He sure as hell knows how to use it.

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

Pretty average. He knows that your relationship is built off of mutual understanding and love and it doesn't always have to be connected through sex. I’d imagine y'all would have sex about  2-3 times a week at the least (a pretty healthy amount for someone in his position tbh) He enjoys quality time with you, and what’s a better way than having you cum your brains out??

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After making sure you’re well taken care of, Lucifer becomes extremely cuddly and affectionate, it's so adorable actually because he nuzzles into you and becomes a clingy, sleepy teddy bear, craving your warmth. It won't take him long before he eventually falls asleep, enjoying being surrounded by you.

[scekrex]

Sooooo, about that idea 😂😂 I'm sure you already know where this is going 👀👀

Adam and reader casually talking about something and they get to the subject of being together somehow even after death, how it would or should go if either of them dies and reader just goes: "Well, I definitely wouldn't move on if you died (Oup-). I don't think I would be able to... " and Adam just looks at him with a bewildered look and goes: "Fuck you mean 'If I died you wouldn't move on'??YOU'RE MY HUSBAND, IF I'M DYING, YOU'RE DYING. WITH. ME. AIN'T NO CHOICE! WE ARE MARRIEEEEED, WE GON' DO EVERYTHING TOGETHER AND IF THAT INVOLVES DYING THEN SO HELP ME HOLY FATHER, YOUR SPICY ASS IS GOING WITH ME". Originally I thought about the reader to say all of that, but then I just thought: No, hold on, that's such an Adam thing to say 😂😂

I swear Adam's so full of himself he'd simply be offended that reader's first intention wasn't "We're ride or die babe, if you die, I die with you" lmao

Baby we could be Bonnie & Clyde

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, talking about death, slightly cracky

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“What’s up, buttercup,” Adam hummed as he sat down next to you on the bed. The thoughts of the upcoming extermination weren't sitting right with you, it was really nothing more than a gut feeling but something told you that Adam and you should skip extermination day this year. And maybe that was part of the reason why you've been so quiet all day, maybe not, who knew.

Well, Adam seemed to at least know that something was bothering you.

You rested your head against his upper arm and sighed, maybe talking would get it off your chest for a moment, talking to Adam about the things that bothered you often helped. “I wanna skip extermination this year,” you started, you weren't able to look at your husband, not that you were afraid of his reaction but you knew how much that day meant to him as the leader of the exorcists. “Why?” was all the brunette asked as his wing softly wrapped itself around your back, the tip of his feathers were therefore resting on your thighs, not that you minded.

Yeah, why was a damn good question. Because of some stupid fucking gut feeling wasn't exactly the answer you wanted to give but it was all you had that came close to a reason so you said that. Adam remained silent for a moment, he seemed to be genuinely thinking about a response. “I get it,” he then mumbled and that made you peek up to him with curious eyes. You wouldn't have thought he did, or maybe he just said it to ease your mind a little. “Before my first extermination I was so fucking nervous,” the first man continued with a soft chuckle rumbling through his body and his arm came up to softly caress your shoulder, “I mean every time we go down there my life's on the line, and not just fucking mine but the lives of my chicks too.” Yeah, you assumed he was right. “I mean, it's not like these demon bitches would fight back or shit, but, y’know, they could, so what if they quit being fucking bitches and hurt my ladies? They're not going to, but they fucking could and-” he paused for a moment, took a deep breath as his eyes focused on the wall across the bed, “and that's fucking scary.”

Had Adam just admitted that he was scared of something? That he was scared of the demons in hell fighting back? It seemed that way. “I don't think I'd be able to move on if they'd kill ya,” your voice was quiet, shaking and far from sounding stable. Adam's eyes moved from the wall to you, an offended look in them, “The fuck you mean ‘you wouldn't be able to move on?” You backed off a little in order to look at him properly, “Y’know, I don't think I'd be able to ever be happy again.”

The first man grabbed your shoulders and shook you lightly, playfully, yet his eyes were dead serious when he spoke, “You’re my fucking husband, if I die you're dying with me, ain't no fucking choice.” You frowned a little at his words, but now that you thought about it dying with him sounded better than grieving his death for all of eternity. Your wing nudged his shoulder playfully and you replied, “Yeah well, that offer wasn't on the fucking table.” That caused a grin to erupt on his face and he pressed your upper body backwards until your back was flush against the mattress, “Yeah well, fuck whatever offer’s on the table and what's not, we're fucking married bitch.” His face came close to yours as he leaned down and for a brief moment you thought he was going to steal a kiss from you, but then his lips moved to your nape instead, “We’re gonna do everything together and if that involves dying, then holy father help me, your spicy ass is coming with me and if I have to drag you with me personally,” he paused to press a kiss to your jaw, his teeth softly scraping against your skin before he continued, “Then fuck, I fucking will, you got that?”

A laughter bubbled up from your chest at that and you grabbed onto his shoulders to flip you both over, now you were on top of him, “When the fuck did I sign up for a double homicide, huh?” He grinned up at you from below as his hands slid down your sides to come rest on your hips, “When you signed the fucking papers to marry me, slipped in a little contract that said your ass belongs to me and that you have to fucking die with me.” You pretended to punch his chest as you chuckled, “Fuck you, bitch.” Adam's grin only widened at that as he cheekily shot back a, “Do it yourself, you fucking coward.”

If he was inviting you so nicely, who were you to reject?

[wanderingconstellations]

FIRSTLY, HERES A GIFT FOR U

IM HERE ☝️😤

so yes!! battle lust reader! encountering our beloved scara or wandere (you choose!) during an adventure!

reader is basically famous like diluc, absolutely skilled with a spear and hand to hand combat, traversing around sumeru, inazuma, everywhere basically and during a fight against [insert whatever monster reader is up against]

scara/wanderer encounters reader who- was gashed up, injured, struggling to stand, panting heavily and absolutely horny, a secret side of reader only she knows—but ofc scara/wanderer appears

im sure you already know what battle lust means (since childe ofc 🤭)

so being affected with lust and adrenaline, making it sense somehow, reader unknowingly attacks scara/wanderer, it takes awhile to regain reader's senses but once they do, reader was already being fucked relentlessly- because scara had notice her palpating heavy breaths, sweat, flushed face, whimpering, grinning with every strike and hit scara/wanderer lands on her, all during the fight

basically, out of fighting, reader is has a good ass elegant and respected reputation as an adventurer, but scara/wanderer had just- witnessed such a contrast from the infamous adventurer, the reader... 🤭

YOU SEE WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS?1!1?2 I HOPE YOU DOOOO (im kinda hesitant to be very detailed in asks since i have no clue if you like heavy details or not 🥹) ILY I HOPE WE CAN INTERACT MOOOREEEEE!!!!

THATS SOOOOO HOTTTTT 🫣

You were famous, known for your elegant skills and traversing to nation to nation. Though, you had a certain enemy that resides in Snezhnaya, one that you loathe. You never ever want to meet him.

While fighting, you ended up losing all senses to yourself. You were gashed, injured, and panting heavily. You were in a state of battlelust and while wandering through out the trees and greenery, you came across Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui harbingers. He notices your state for moment before you attacked him out of no where.

Luckily for him, he was able to dodge your attack. He scoffed and threw and insult at you, apparently wondering why the hell are you attacking him out of now where.

"Tch, what the hell are you trying to do?!"

Despite his insults you attack again, a grin was on your lips. This was out of character for the oh so elegant and well respected adventurer. You continued to attack him until he finally successfully attack you, ending up with you landing on the ground and him hovering on top of you.

You gasped. A lustful look on your face, you grinned, getting up once more and kicking him off his feet. You both continued this for who knows how long. You were in a state of battlelust, and it was visible on your face.

"It's pathetic on how much of a masochist you are. What would you do if everyone knew about the so elegant and well respected adventurer who was actually a freak in sheets?"

That was what you heard when you finally came back to your senses. Damn right, before you were getting fucked, Scara noticed how you whimpered and your flushed face whenever he landed a hit on you. He was weirded out at first but it somehow amused him of how you were still smiling despite your injuries.

Currently right now, you were gasping and whimpering at the feeling of his cock penetrating you.

"Ohh wow, finally back to your senses now huh? Well too bad, I was only getting started with you."

A cocky smirk was tugging on his lips, his hands on your bare hips were starting to hurt. Your breasts were out on full display, bouncing with every thrust Scara did. Your legs were hooked over his shoulders, you were in mating press and damn right, it felt amazing.

Your battlelust was whole different person from you, and he absolutely adored that lust you had in battle, that would give him a reason why to fuck you so senselessly like this, or maybe not but he doesn't give a single fuck. Your panting and whimpering look was already enough for him to know that you were enjoying on what he was doing.

"Ahh..I knew it, you wanted me just as bad as I do don't you? Don't deny it, your body here just wants me so much that it's clenching on me so tight, it's unbelievable.."

He was right, your cunt was squeezing his cock so nicely, taking him in greedily and milking him out. His fingers pinch your nipples, making you squeal and whine. Scara would be so mean, bruising your hips, pinching your nipples until it hurts, degrading and humiliating you, but it's not like you were complaining anyway.

"Who knew that the famous adventurer was such a cock hungry slut? Clenching and squeezing onto this cock like it's their last..Ohh..I wonder what would happen if people found out, would you runaway and come back to me just to get your brains fucked out? Don't be ashamed, it's okay. I don't blame you for wanting my cock this badly, you're my cock hungry slut afterall."

Him and his arrogant personality made you want to punch him, but what can you do? After all, his cock was hitting your sweet spot so nicely that you were spasming around his cock already, cumming and coating his length in your juices. He was taunting you, teasing and humiliating you, shaming you for being such a slut for his cock.

Your eyes were glistening in tears, cheeks flushed and nails clawing at his back. Your clothes were either on the ground or teared apart. Your tits were on display for him, bouncing with every deep thrust he made.

Scara gave a zap to your clit, making you shiver in pleasure as his fingers continuing to rub your nipples and fondle with them, his other fingers down on your clit and occasionally giving zaps to your sensitive nub, making you squirt on all over his abdomen.

"So dirty, squirting all over my cock like a filthy whore."

He scoffed, continuing to pump his cock into your drenched and abused hole. You were a complete drooling and babbling mess, quivering and overstimulated by how many times you came.

It was so good, so so good, your pussy was heavenly to Scaramouche. You were so dumbed out by his cock that you lost count of how many times you even came because of his cock and ministrations. The only thing in your head was him, one that you call your enemy, Scaramouche.

[exhaslo]

Hi I have a weirdly specific request for a Miguel fic! I was watching a fav movie Dirty Dancing and the part where baby and Johnny are practicing and they do the crawling to Love is Strange, I was wondering if you could write a one shot of the reader attempting to make Miguel less stressed at his office by dancing for him and when the “hey Sylvia? Yes Mickey?” Part comes on she’s crawling over to him and on his lap and smut ensuuuuues and he plays along cos he can’t help it. SO SORRY IF that’s so jumbled idk how else to describe it 🤷‍♀️

Sooooo, embarrassing enough, I've never seen Dirty Dancing. I could never get into those movies as a kid or even now. But I'll watch that scene so I have an idea of what you mean and I'll do my best to write it!

Also, sorry this was late!! I can't catch a break at both jobs for the holidays!

Warning: Minors DNI, dry humping, smut, almost caught, teasing

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

No one liked working at Alchemax and if you did, you were insane. Alchemax was a company that would literally drag your soul down to the depths of hell if you even dared to relax. Shit, it was impossible to quit because the CEO would drug everyone who tried to leave. Especially if they were a good worker.

You fell into that group of good workers; however, you knew better than to quit. Once you saw some of your coworkers acting funny, you were stuck. At least you had something to keep you going at this horrible job.

Your sexy crush of a coworker, Miguel O'Hara.

You would do anything for that man. Give him coffee-check; help with a project you knew nothing about-check; stay hours late to help Miguel with an assignment-check. You were down bad for that man, and honestly, you were ready to make your move.

Miguel was a man of few words. He was one of the coworkers whom many avoided because of his resting bitch face. His tone felt cold and cruel, but hell, you loved that about him.

"He's pissed again," One of your coworkers whispered.

Your ears perked up, knowing full well that they were talking about Miguel. Already walking with a skip in your step, you went to Miguel's office with a nice large cup of coffee in your hands.

--------

Miguel threw his chair across the room, letting out a frustrated yell. Everyone in the lab had left already, leaving Miguel all alone in a fucked up lab. Breathing heavily to calm himself down, Miguel cussed before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Miguel?"

Ah, music to his ears. Miguel inhaled deeply, listening to your sweet voice as you entered his lab. You were the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Oh how Miguel wanted to eat you up. To have you in his arms, crying out his name.

"(Y/N), brave as always," Miguel said softly.

You just smiled, handing him a cup of coffee. His hands grazing over your fingers just for a moment. Miguel felt the urge to hover over you, watching that creeping plush cover your cheeks.

"The others are just lazy wimps." You said with a chuckle. Miguel hummed in response as he took a sip,

"Indeed. Now I have to clean this mess and do a mountain of paperwork."

"Why don't you have the others clean?" You asked. Miguel glanced at you,

"Ha, and why would they do that?"

Miguel watched your smile turn mischievous . Oh, how he loved that look. You were such a trouble maker sometimes. Always giving Miguel a rise with your antics. Another thing that Miguel loved so much about you.

"Weeeeell, maybe because you are suuuuch a genius and everyone wants to willow at your feet." You teased, bumping your hips against his, "How about I help you with your paperwork later?"

"So you aren't going to help me clean either?" Miguel hummed, resisting the urge to grab your hips.

"Nope~ I have a report to finish."

Miguel watched as you skipped out of the lab. Your ass swaying ever so slightly. Damn, Miguel wanted you bad. Licking his lips, Miguel just closed his eyes and relished your fleeting presence. He was going to have to be patient until later.

---------

You held your cheeks as you paced back and forth in front of Miguel's office. Everyone had gone home for the day expect the two of you and now you were about to seclude yourself in a small room with him. You had already planned this all out.

But you were still nervous.

"Wow, that really is a lot of paperwork." You whispered, entering the office. Miguel scoffed,

"I told you,"

You huffed your cheeks out since Miguel had his stressed tone. Slowly approaching him, you kept a smile as you readied your plan. Miguel kept watching you, wondering what you were doing as you placed your phone on the counter.

"(Y/N), music isn't going to help." Miguel said with a soft sigh.

"Not with that attitude."

You swayed your hips with the music and stroked your hands across his shoulders. You could feel Miguel tense up. With a soft pull, you motioned Miguel towards you and kept dancing to the rhythm. Miguel was still not moving with the groove.

"Loosen up, let your body do what it wants,"

Miguel felt a shiver run down his spine as he followed your movements. To let his body move to how it wants? Hopefully you won't regret those words. Placing his hands against your hips, Miguel felt drawn to you like a drug.

"There we go, but someone is a little handsy~" You cooed.

"Moving to the music," Was all Miguel whispered.

You felt your heart race as Miguel's hands kept roaming your body. You teased him and pulled his hands back a little, which ended up with his face near your chest. Immediately letting go of his hands, you bit your lower lip as Miguel grabbed your ass.

"Eyes up here," You sang, moving his hands away.

You shuddered softly as Miguel brought his face to your belly. You gently raised his chin, making eye contact with Miguel. He looked different. You weren't sure what it was, but it was starting to turn you on. This dancing was getting sexual.

Miguel's hands were groping you ass and stroking up to your stomach. You shuddered once more, moving his hands again. Miguel licked and kissed your stomach, making you shiver.

"Miguel," You muttered, gently moving him away.

Miguel inhaled deeply, as he moved away from you. As you kept dancing, Miguel kept his eyes on you. He got on his knees and knew that this was going to be hard for him. He was losing his control against you.

"Hey, (Y/N)" Miguel hummed to the tune. You turned towards him, sliding over,

"Yes, Miguel?"

"Could you call me your lover boy?" Miguel's smirk started to show as he sang to the song. You pressed your body against his chest,

"Yes, lover boy?"

Like instinct, Miguel grabbed your face and brought you in for a deep kiss. Neither one of you hesitating as your tongues started to battle each other. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him as Miguel won the battle of your tongues.

You moaned softly as Miguel kept his kisses against your neck while his hands kept wandering your body. You felt like you were on fire. Everything Miguel did was turning you on more and more. Gasping softly, you started to rub your hips against Miguel's crotch as he kissed your chest through your shirt.

"That's not in tune to the music," Miguel hummed.

With a bite, Miguel undid your button down shirt and bra with his teeth alone. You were surprised and honestly, impressed. Complying with his demand, you started to grind to the music as Miguel kissed and sucked your nipples.

"Hah, hey lover boy~" You hummed to the music. Miguel picked you up and laid your back against his desk,

"Yes?"

"You aren't going to fuck me to the rhythm are you? Because I don't think I can last that long," You chuckled. Miguel smirked to your response, his hands already working on your pants,

"Is that a challenge?"

You wanted to whine and complain, but Miguel had continued his kisses and grinds. Once he undid your pants, Miguel made sure to do the same to his. His dry humping getting a bit rougher and faster as he kept playing with your breasts.

You flung your head back from the friction, moaning in the process. Who would have known that your plan was going to work so well. Arching your back, you cried softly as you felt your growing orgasm. Miguel was rubbing you in just the right spot.

"Miguel~" You moaned out, trying to move your hips more.

Miguel grunted softly as he made quick work of your panties. He immediately stopped rubbing against you and brought his fingers to your swollen clit. His lips captured yours again as he rubbed against your sensitive bud, bringing you to your first orgasm of the night.

"Miguel, are you still here?" One of your coworkers knocked.

With haste, you dropped down under the desk while Miguel turned off your phone. He cleared his throat as your noisy coworker entered and simply dropped off more paperwork. Once he left, Miguel leaned back and groaned towards the sight of you.

"Maybe we should get back to work?" You said with a soft chuckle. Miguel glanced at his paperwork, then you,

"Hm, perhaps." With a smirk, Miguel placed the music once more, "You can still help me be my desk while we work."

"Desk?" You questioned. Miguel grabbed your hand and placed you on his lap, "Ohhhhhhhhh,"

"Let's see how long we can last staying in tune, hm?" Miguel hummed as he brought you in for a kiss while rubbing your clit once more. You pressed yourself against his chest,

"Not long."

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

I hope you enjoyed this! I had to rewatch the scene from that movie a few times to try and understand the movements, haha.

@tojishugetiddies

[orangecarton]

Nordic Bunny x Reader WP (W.I.P.)

(Sorry in advance ;-;)

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TW: Swearing

Honestly this isn't your best moment. You kinda got scammed out of 20 bucks for what you thought was a cheap cosplay of an alien soldier and when you put on said costume you got screamed at to "get back to the ship" and got kidnapped by some purple fish looking creatures. Next thing you know you're in outer space in, what you can only assume is, some sorta Ren Faire for space dorks. It looked pretty cool, but people kept trying to put you to work and getting you to larp with them, talking about some "Ruler of the Galaxy" and "Nightmare to Humanity". It was all really charming but right about now is when you were starting to get the munchies, so naturally you went on the prowl for some poor vending machine and/or food cabinet.

Without any helpful signs around to guide you through this maze of Star Wars ride at Disneyworld and Metallica's love child, you got lost. After walking for a while you start to hear shouting. A sign of life, and perhaps snacks (or at the very least water. Because GOD DAMN was it getting hot). Walking closer the shouts got louder and you could make out some words.

"ANOTHER FAILURE! WHO THE HELL THOUGHT CRABS WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA?!"

"Um, you did... sir."

"SHUT UP, DUM DUM! Are you calling me STUPID?!"

You reached the door and it automatically slid open, just in time for you to see one of your fellow cosplayers get zapped and turned into feathers by an extremely tall guitar monster. In this life or death situation you know it is important for you do react with dignity and poise, as to survive and stay alive. So you respond in kind,

"HOLY SH*T, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! OH MY GOD?!"

Your panicked state causing you to just freeze in place, stuttering and mumbling utter nonsense.

"Excuse me? YOU DARE INSULT AND MOCK ME?? YOUR FEARSOME RULER??!?"

The guitar man struts closer, is it wearing platforms??? He (???) Raises his hand, the one that shot the guy before you (rest in piece). You stumble back and scream,

"AHHHH DONT SHOOT ME PLEASE!! I HAVE BANANAS IN THE FREEZER I STILL NEED TO BAKE INTO BANANA BREAD. They've been in there for months, BUT I PROMISE I'M GOING TO GET TO IT I SWEAR!!"

He falters, and in this moment you take in his appearance. He had a dark robotic and skeletal build, donning some sick ass platform boots, a leather cap, a red tie, and huge shoulder pads. His face was that of an electric guitar, rocking red eyes and scarlet lipstick, and... wait is he just in his underwear?

"What the- You're a human?!"

He lowers his hand and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... I'm a human. What about it?"

"How did you get up here?! Into my IMMENSELY IMPENETRABLE EVIL HEADQUARTERS?!"

"... I walked."

"...Oh."

You both kinda sat in awkward silence for a bit. The issue from before had presented itself once again when your stomach let out a noise that even Godzilla would be jealous of.

"You uh... got any snacks man?" You asked, the fear from before subsiding and your fallen brother in arms forgotten (R.I.P Nathan). Guitar man™ looks at you quizically, then turns around and whispers to himself (you could still hear though because he isn't a very quiet person).

"If I befriend this human... I'll be able to infiltrate the Earth AND TAKE IT OVER THUS BECOMING THE GRAND IMPERIAL EMPORER AND MOST EXTREME BEARER OF AWESOMENESS WHO HAS LOTS OF FRIENDS AND NEVER HAS TO HANG OUT ALONE!! MUAHAHAHA!!!"

"Sooooo... is that a no?"

He turns back around and smiles wickedly,

"Come now human! I will grant you snacks and in return you will become my friend, hang out with me, tell me all of humanities weaknesses and how to defeat Shred Force!"

"Yeah ok." You shrug.

He grabs your arm and just about drags you with him as he strides down the hallway. You stumble but manage to keep pace.

"Hey what's your name anyway?"

"You, my fair accomplice, can call me Nordic Bunny. RULER OF THE GALAXY AND NIGHTMARE TO HUMANITY"

"Cool cool."

What the hell have you gotten yourself into (Seinfeld credits play)

(Sorry for the bad grammar, here's a little doodle for compensation)

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[ilanarose7]

Bells Hells Episode 95 Morning After Thoughts

SPOILERS BELOW!!! (This has become a weekly thing for me to help digest the episodes and I'm probably gonna keep doing it. really helps with my episode memory as well)

New favorite Campaign 3 episode unlocked!!!! The title of this episode has been released on Beacon (I won't spoil that), but I will personally be referring to it as "Shopping and Shipping" in my own head. It just had the perfect amount of everything and felt so incredibly cathartic (then stressful in the best way) after everything that's happened in recent episodes.

Let's break it down:

The Essek v Astrid verbal showdown!!! Essek appears to hold all the grudges that Caleb doesn't (or at least didn't really at the end of M9). When Astrid dropped the "Ludinus has an itch in the back of his neck" lore I was thinking back to when they first learned more about the harness and someone (I think it was either Marisha or Laura) wrote in their notes "We cut off Ludinus's head!!!" that was later read aloud. After that convo, that action seems like a decent play. That or maybe the Cadeuces-style Dispell Magic to the back of the neck. (side note: of course Fearne bought the Vasselheim version of the Kama Sutra 😂)

NEW CLOTHES FOR EVERYONE!!! We know there's new Dorian art waiting to be released since he rejoined the party, but everyone is getting an Aeor-ready makeover! It makes perfect sense, but I was still thrown off by the level of outfit upgrades and am so excited for the art!

Pumat is BACK! Well, his Simulacrum are at least. I don't care, just hearing that voice made me so happy. And also Dorian giving all his money to Orym so he can buy the armor? So what if I was squealing?

Downtime at the Cabaret ❤️ The Imodna kiss as Laudna went back upstairs. The Callowmoore flirting leads to Ashton, for the first time in a LONG time, successfully pick-pocketing Fearne. Dorian and Chetney banter back in full swing. Fearne leaving the EXU group hug to give Dorym a moment together. going back slightly but Iva Deshin made Bells Hells clock that YES, YOU ALL DO GIVE OFF POLYAMOROUS VIBES! So many character moments that have been needed in such a plot-heavy story

Ashton shows their head off to Essek! I have been waiting for this for sooooo long!!! Allura had given some answers, but talking more about how Dunamancy and the Assembly's manipulation of Dunamis has played a role in everything going on. While the cast know this info out of character, its good that they finally can do so in character as well

Laudna, Delilah, and the Sword-Shaped Elephant in the Room. Well, damn. First off, the acting in this last hour or so was AMAZING!! Also incredibly demonstrative of the level of trust at the table. Now to talk about the moment itself. The line between Laudna and Delilah has been getting blurrier and last night I don't think Marisha even knew fully where Laudna ended and Delilah began. The cast and many insightful Critters have been comparing Laudna to an addict and last night is an incredible example. The way Laudna handled it was wrong, this could have been a conversation rather than an initial attack. But was Laudna or Delilah the one making those choices? Or being manipulated into them? In the moment, the calm approach the group tried to take was the right one, but honestly, Laudna needs a harsher talking-to like what Chetney did with Ashton post-shard incident. Taliesin on 4SD said that's what saved Ashton from leaving the group. It might be something that, other than Imogen's love, may be enough of a wake-up call to help her break away from her Delilah-induced magic addiction

TLDR: The whole episode was full of amazing moments that were cathartic, informative, tense, and heartwarming. THE PERFECT BELLS HELLS EPISODE! again, that's just my opinion. I'd love to hear what everyone else thought too!

[misc-obeyme]

Petite and oftentimes calm mc that can fling them across the room if upset. With the 7 brothers

(Can you do a masc mc for this? I don't mind gn either)

Hi there, anon!

Okay I wrote their reactions to being flung across the room because I find that idea sooooo funny. I definitely had masc MC in mind when I wrote it, but I think it's hard to tell since I'm still using the you/yours pronouns and such. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Anyway, I quite enjoyed writing this! Thank you for the request!

Brothers react to being flung across the room by petite masc!MC.

Warnings: Well... the bros get thrown around a little bit, but nobody gets hurt lol

Lucifer

The first time you get upset enough to throw him, he’s so surprised he almost crashes into the wall. Almost. He just barely manages to catch himself by shifting into demon form and using his wings. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to react that way and he was not expecting you to have the strength to do something like that. Completely shocked.

When he recovers, you’re going to have to deal with his hurt pride. Especially if you were around others at the time. How dare you do something like that to him, MC. Are you prepared for the consequences? Don’t back down. Point out that he’s the one who upset you. It isn’t your fault if he underestimated you.

Since you’re normally so calm, he understands that he really must have crossed a line to push you to such extremes. He assures you that he will not be making that mistake a second time. That’s about as close as you’re gonna get to an apology. Still he’s definitely going to be more careful. And he never does upset you that much again.

Now that he’s aware of what you can do despite your small stature, he takes pleasure in watching you do it to other people. Warns people ominously if it looks like they’re about to piss you off. They never take the warning though and he can't help but find it entertaining when you react accordingly.

Mammon

Definitely the first one to push you to this point. You’re always so chill, he thinks he can get away with anything. And yeah he can get away with a lot, but when he finally pushes you too far, he finds himself flying across the room.

Woah. Woah! MC! Since when have ya been so strong?! You totally took him by surprise. Once he gets over the shock, he blushes. A lot. Suddenly he can't quite look you in the eye. Turns out he kinda liked it. He's not happy that you're upset, but damn… it certainly gets him riled up.

Mammon can cause this reaction from you frequently, but he doesn't do it on purpose. He forgets about it and just goes about his usual trouble making ways. It doesn't happen often since it takes a lot to get you really upset at him, but when it does it flusters the hell out of him every time.

He gets good at dodging you, though. He's known for being a fast runner, but he only makes you chase him for a little bit. In the end, he lets you catch him. He doesn't want to make you even angrier. And he always apologizes.

Leviathan

Rarely upsets you enough to cause this reaction. Not expecting it when it happens even though he’s aware of it due to his brothers already experiencing it. He’s completely disoriented by it. What just happened? Where is he? What’s his name again??

After getting back his bearings, he switches to full on apologizing. Profusely. He's so sorry, MC! Please forgive him! Seriously, you should probably forgive him or his anxiety is gonna kick into high gear.

Actively tries not to upset you enough for it to happen again. He likes how calm you normally are, it helps him stay calm too. But since it takes quite a lot for you to get upset, he doesn’t always realize it’s happening until it’s too late.

Will always try to make it up to you somehow. Swears he will never underestimate you again. When he’s afraid of something, he’s going to hide behind you. Knows you’re strong enough to handle what he can’t. This is confusing to anyone who doesn't know you well. Is that the Admiral of Hell's Navy hiding behind some human guy? Something isn't adding up here…

Satan

Normally he's the one who loses his cool. Definitely not used to having someone upset enough with him to fling him across the room. He's going to be dazed a bit before coming back to his senses. Then his reaction could go one of two ways. Unlike him, it takes a lot for you to get upset. Knowing this might be enough for him to calm down, too. However, he might also just get angrier.

It's pretty clear to everyone at this point that you can hold your own against demons. So if Satan's anger intensifies, you're ready to meet him head on if you have to. You can be sure the other brothers are gonna try to get involved, though. This has the potential to devolve into complete and utter chaos. Your best bet is to leave and let yourself cool down.

If it goes that way, he will find you later when he's not angry anymore and apologize. He knows how he is and he's embarrassed that he let it get that far. If it doesn't escalate like that and he actually calms down after you throw him, he will apologize right then and there. You've stunned him into it.

When he has a moment to think about it, he's impressed with how strong you are. Appearances can be deceiving. You appear small and calm, but you have quite a bit of power, don't you, MC?

Asmodeus

Distraught at first. How could you do that to him, MC? What if he had broken a nail? Once he has confirmed that he still looks as fabulous as ever, he’s a little overcome by how strong you are. Gets naughty ideas because of course he does.

But he realizes that you’re upset and that's not good. He’s sorry, darling! He didn’t mean to upset you! He’s going to do whatever he can to make it up to you.

Now that he’s aware of how strong you are, though, he’s gonna come up with excuses to get you to flaunt it. Oh no, he’s hurt his ankle! Won’t you carry him to his next class? If you try to carry him on your back, he’s going to hop into your arms instead. Now you’re carrying him bridal style through the halls. He is loving every second.

He gets what it's like to be underestimated based on how you look. And he won't be able to stand it if other demons do it. He won't wait for you to get angry enough to take action, he’s just gonna take care of these lowlifes himself.

Beelzebub

If you actually manage to pick up and throw this giant, it’s going to shock everybody. Your name becomes legend because how is that even possible? He’s completely flabbergasted. It makes no sense. You’re just a little guy. How did this happen?

Beel is impressed. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of such strength. He’s usually the one carrying everybody else around. Thoroughly ashamed that he pushed you to this point though. Apologizes. Takes you out to lunch.

Teach him your ways. He wants to be able to throw people three times his size too. Not that he’s likely to encounter such a person, but you know. That’s not the point.

When nobody else is around, he might sheepishly ask you to pick him up. Likely just wants cuddles. Set him in your lap and he’ll get comfy and content. It’s just not something he’d ever expect anyone to be able to do, let alone you.

Belphegor

Startled so bad he shifts into demon form without realizing. Tail twitches as he blinks rapidly in confusion. What did he miss? Something's not right here. You’re way too small to have been the one to just launch him across the room… right?

After the surprise wears off, though, he gets it. You are calm most of the time, but Belphie is also a brat most of the time. He pushed you to your limit and it turns out you’re a lot stronger than you look.

Pretty annoyed with you at first. You really messed with him just now, you know? He might have deserved it, but still. You can’t just go around throwing people, MC. But he won’t protest for long, eventually apologizing.

Now he has two crazy strong people he can rely on. He already gets away with a lot but he sees this as an opportunity to threaten others. He’ll tell on his brothers to you in hopes he’ll get to watch them fly through the air haphazardly. He can’t help it, it’s funny when it happens to someone else.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[syuga-s]

who do you blame?

w.c. 11.9k pairing. Yoongi x fem!reader, Taehyung x fem!reader genre. hello again ANGST, slight smut, romance a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! curse words, alcohol, sexual content (just fingering this time),, i may or may not have a second part to this fic 😼 ENJOY pookies <3

Don’t know if I can call it insomnia if I literally sleep at this hour all the time.

I want to dye my hair black again.

But this restlessness feels different.

Maybe that third cup of coffee’s doing its thing.

I was so close to having a panic attack; I did cry, though. And I still want to for a variety of reasons.

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things this week. I really want to see Yoongi like, right now. That’s how I know I’m not doing well.

Lately, I’ve been pondering the idea of resentment and how it means that envy is the emotion you’re feeling. At first, I dismissed it because how do you go from one emotion to a completely different one? But hell maybe they’re right.

I may envy people and their ability to forget how someone else made them feel. Or how they’re able to just overlook someone’s actions. Because I can’t do that. I take everything to heart.

How can you not when those actions were directed at you? Even though I’m used to excusing them and saying, “maybe they’re going through something big, and I just got the short end of the stick,” “maybe they didn’t actually mean it,” or the great, “maybe you’re not the only one that they treated like that, don’t feel so special.”

Alright, but why does it have to happen? Is it that tough to be considerate of someone’s feelings?

Good thing I haven’t texted Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I’m having a weak moment.

Do I want to keep up with that mess? Because that’s what it is.

I just can’t stop thinking about him. I think I miss him. But I refuse to be the one that reaches out for him this time. I’m still pondering if I genuinely miss him or if I’m just fucking lonely again.

Pretty sure it’s the second one.

At the same time, I wish he would grow up more and be ready for something serious.

“Sooooo… I dyed my hair again last night,” you confessed to Gemma on the phone. She was on her way to your house to pick you up because tonight you two were attending a concert.

Your best friend sighed, and you could practically imagine them rolling their eyes. “What color is it this time?” Gemma sounded exasperated, but she wasn’t; it didn’t even surprise her anymore. All her concerns were how you managed to not fry your hair whenever you wanted another makeover.

“I guess it looks kind of black?” You muttered and pressed your lips while you waited for your friend to say something.

“UGH, I can’t wait to see you!,” “you better be ready too because I’m hungry, and you know our pho place closes early!”

“I know, I know. Surprisingly, I AM ready; I’m just looking for my keys.”

This was your and Gemma’s ritual almost every Friday or Saturday night, depending on your plans. Tonight, it was Friday, and you had your usual king size pho, talking about work, your hair on this occasion, and most importantly, the band you were going to watch in a few hours.

You forgot to mention how you’ve been feeling about Yoongi. You thought that conversation could be saved for another time.

As soon as you arrived at the venue, the band came out.

It was one of these L.A. indie bands that both of you discovered this same year. Whenever Gemma was over at your place, you always ended up watching their music videos, fawning over the vocalist. So, when you found out they were doing a concert soon, you knew you had to be there.

It lasted around an hour, which was a little underwhelming compared to the other concerts you’ve attended. Still, all was forgotten because that damn vocalist was as dreamy as you imagined.

When the concert ended, Gemma and you found yourselves a table to keep talking over drinks. You didn’t count on Sam, one of your other friends, calling and telling you she was coming over.

You didn’t usually mixed your plans, but it felt kind of inevitable tonight.

You also thought the place felt kind of dead and guessed it wouldn’t hurt to have more people with you.

Sam arrived with her brother’s girlfriend. Before anything else could be said, they both said, “This place is dead.”

“What were you doing in here?”

You laughed at the confused expression your friend had on her face. She knew you were at a concert, but you then explained you were just sitting and drinking, nothing special.

“We should go somewhere else! What do you say about going downtown?” The brother’s girlfriend addressed you.

You pursed your lips and turned to look at Gemma to ask her what she wanted to do. “I’m staying over with you, so I’m giving you the privilege of deciding.” You smiled at your friend and thought about it. You wanted to keep drinking; it was barely 11 p.m.

You turned to Sam to tell her it was okay, but before you opened your mouth, she tried to convince you, “Come on, let’s just go for a while; Hoseok’s over there with some friends!”

Hoseok is Sam’s brother.

Hoseok is Yoongi’s best friend.

It’s pretty evident that wherever Hoseok was, Yoongi was there too.

Fuck, did I manifest this?

“Let’s go then.”

What a miracle, what a coincidence.

A kiss on the cheek. All kind. Warm greetings—the kind that makes you want to kill whoever invented manners. You see each other from time to time, often at random places and gatherings like tonight.

You haven’t seen Yoongi in over ten months.

You haven’t seen him since that last date you had. If you can call it that.

Last year, life was kicking your ass, and Yoongi was everything you had. You truly needed someone, and he stayed with you throughout the messiest months of your life. He was your everything.

You were perfectly aware he was never going to be serious about you. He’s been in your life for eight years, and both of you have left the other countless times before. You two were just a bad joke. You never understood why he always insisted on coming back to your life just for him to treat you like always. Never something special. Never been the exception, always the rule.

But for those seven months, he acted like the person you always wanted him to be. You knew you were both a joke, but you always liked what “us” meant with him.

Last Christmas was the first time you spent a holiday together. It felt so important to you back then as if life was finally going your way.

You never expected what he had to say to you right on that day.

“First of all, Merry Christmas, honey”. He smiled as he looked at you. “You know I’ll always wish for you and your family to be healthy. I know this is important to you, but I’m sure you can rest a bit about that matter from now on.”

“I’m really happy you’re spending these days with me. You know I’m not fond of the holidays, but I want you to know this feels important to me.”

“I genuinely, truly, really want to keep you with me and for us to go out as much as we can, if you want to, of course. Because to be honest, if it were up to me, we would be doing a bunch of stuff together all the time, but it’s not just a matter of me wanting, so I hope you’d like that too.”

With his words, you went through all the emotions known to mankind. It’s been the first time you’ve heard something like that coming from him, and you felt strange. Thinking how you may have wanted that for years, now when it’s actually happening, you feel so disconnected from yourself, you start to think, “What can he possibly like in me? I’ve only shown him chaos these past months.”

But as soon as that thought crossed your mind, your heart told you, “Yet, he’s still here.”

He made you feel safe, so you committed to being the best version of yourself once again. After all you’ve been through, he’s never stopped being so good and patient with you.

He’s always going to have a piece of your heart.

Then came the inevitable change of heart one of you had every time.

This time, it happened to him. Of course.

You were supposed to go out one night, but you ended up going home in the middle of the “date.”

It’s like you weren’t talking to Yoongi anymore. He was acting cold, apathetic, indifferent, you name it.

You felt awful on your way home. You didn’t even want to think about the reason for his attitude towards you.

You wanted to feel hopeful, happy, and even in love, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. You wanted to trust in what Yoongi had told you just a few weeks ago. Maybe it was just something you wanted to hear, but you didn’t catch on to the intentions behind his words.

I actually fell for it this time.

There have been multiple times when you told yourself there was no future for you two. Why do you keep staying? It just makes you feel like shit in the end.

I just keep building unrealistic expectations, as if there was actually someone who could save me from my own problems1.

This time, you were hoping he was tired of you and would finally choose not to be with you anymore.

Farewell comes. Once again, you bury memories deep in the deepest ocean. Then it comes back and floats up.

There were eight people sitting close together at a little round table, and to your luck, you ended up facing Yoongi.

Beer never stopped coming to your table.

You had an impressive way of acting as if everything was normal. You were always like this. Of course, Yoongi made you angry, but you’ve never resented him for something. Acting full of hostility in front of both of your friends would never be one of your goals.

On some other occasion, maybe you would’ve ignored him and his glances, but you can’t deny that you’ve wanted to see and talk to him for the past few weeks.

Your friends weren’t fond of your “relationship,” yet they were always curious about how you two treated each other whenever you saw each other after a while. Everyone always knew when you two were together and how many months you had spent without talking.

You can’t tell if that’s good or not, but everyone knew it was just a matter of time before you started seeing each other again.

Tonight was going well. You haven’t seen Hoseok or the other guys in a while. Aside from whatever you had with Yoongi, they were your friends, too. Not too long ago, you always went out on weekends to bars, parties, and the occasional concerts.

Ever since you distanced yourself from them a little, they got into relationships. It wasn’t until today that you actually spent time with them and their partners and got to know them a little.

Jimin was sitting on your right, and eventually, you found yourselves talking apart from the others. He started telling you about his partner and how he got in a little fight with them over whether it’s right or not to look at other people at the gym.

Later, the others were all over that topic, arguing whether it was socially acceptable or not to look at someone else at the gym while your partner was there with you. All the alcohol you’ve drank made itself present. Your overall volume rose with each minute, with everyone voicing their opinions.

You had already told tipsy Jimin your point of view, so you got fed up with the subject when it turned into an actual discussion between Hoseok and his partner.

Sam and Gemma were still talking with Jimin over what he did, his partner’s words, and whatnot. So you found your chance to get up and go to the jukebox.

It took less than two minutes of you looking through the catalog when you suddenly saw a tall figure standing by your side.

“Hi,” he said.

You turned to look straight into his eyes. “Hi.”

“You look radiant, better than before.”

You bit your smile back and answered, “can’t complain.” Still searching for a song.

He came closer to you, “we meet again.”

A smile escaped from you. “It’s been almost a year, huh.”

Now they’re walking on ice. To see who slips first. No strings intertwined. They were never anything, but there was always something.

“I know, it’s crazy.” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. “Can we meet later?”

There was something.

“My friend is staying over.” You had already picked two songs but still had three more credits.

“I can come by.”

You were thinking hard about which songs to pick, but Yoongi was making it really hard to concentrate.

Of course, I want you to come over. Yet, I still want to hang on to the small remains of my pride.

“I think it would be better if we go out sometime this week if you want.”

Filled with anxiety over what you were arranging, you started tapping your fingers against the machine, not remembering which artist you were looking for in the first place.

“I thought you no longer wanted to see me.”

You lifted your chin to look at him and gave him a smirk. “Well,” you said with a nervous laugh, “I did, but I can’t lie to you; I’ve been thinking about you for days.”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you were done with me.”

“Yoongi, we can’t talk about that here.”

You were finally searching for the last song. “Well, I’ll see you at your house later.”

Again, you turned to look at him but gave him an annoyed expression. You kept going through Pink Floyd’s songs, your distress not letting you find your favorite song by them.

“Can I? Just for a while. I want to talk to you.”

“Talk about what Yoongi?”

Finally, <The Great Gig in the Sky>.

“About why you left like that back then.”

You finally turned your whole body to answer him, “Alright then, you can come by later.” And with that, you returned to your seat at the table. Everyone asked what took you so long, and while you explained that you couldn’t find the songs you wanted, Yoongi came back to his seat, too. All eyes were on you, his included.

It actually got you happy that he talked to you first.

Untethered intertwining. They were never anything, but there was always something.

Sam, Hoseok, and his girlfriend left around 2 a.m., but the rest of you kept finding things to talk about.

You never stopped drinking, but you weren’t feeling drunk yet. In one of your trips to the bathroom, Gemma told you she liked Yoongi for the first time, and it got you all giddy. As you were walking back, you and Yoongi couldn’t take your eyes off of each other. Both of you were getting impatient to finally be alone again.

You’re both talking to your friends, and you’re laughing, and you look across the table. You’re not even far apart, but you catch each other’s eyes, and it’s this secret that exists right there, unnoticed, and no one else knows about it, no one else but you and Yoongi.

The rest of your friends were already drunk, so he told you, “We should go.”

“Come on, I’ll take you both home.”

Gemma hopped in the back of his car, and you got yourself in the passenger seat.

All your actions were too familiar for someone who hasn’t seen this guy in over ten months.

The next thing you knew, your phone connected automatically to his car, and he urged you to put some music on.

It was until this moment, on your way to your house, that you realized you were very drunk. You don’t even remember which playlist or songs you played.

When you arrived home, you gathered all your might to get Gemma inside. (Yoongi helped you open all the doors and, most importantly, carry Gemma to your room).

You got Gemma into your bed, changed her clothes, and left her a glass of water on your bedside table. You also used the moment to gulp a glass of water yourself. Meanwhile, Yoongi was already settled in your living room, his eyes not leaving you. Lying on your couch, recognizing when you were feeling more than tipsy. “Are you drunk?”

His voice scared you for a second. You did not realize he was still there or that he was watching your every move. Your smile gave away that you were indeed feeling a little drunk.

“A little? Maybe?”

The way he laughs always gets you. It has this cute yet manly note that you’ve always loved so much.

You curled up on your couch next to Yoongi, facing him. You truly wanted to hear what he wanted to talk about, but this newfound comfort of being on your couch made you sleepy. At the same time, the way he was looking at you was letting the alcohol in your system wear out.

His heavy gaze no longer made you think about talking with him. All you wanted was for him to hold you and kiss you like he used to as if he couldn’t wait any longer to press his lips on yours, to interrupt you while you were saying something with a kiss filled with the desire you both had for the other.

“Are you dating someone else?” His question shocked you. You looked at him wide-eyed. Yoongi looked directly at your eyes like they were the only thing in the room, fearing that if he looked somewhere else, he’d miss the truth coming from your eyes.

Your face turned into a frown, and drinking in his words confused you. You sat straight to ask your first question, but he beat you to it. “Is that why you left me?” The blood drained from your face.

Is he serious? Is he genuinely clueless? Or is he just being stupid?

“Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve been dating around?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you disappeared again; if you wanted me to go to hell, you could’ve said so.”

“What are you even saying, Yoongi?”

“I thought you were dating someone.” He let out what must have been a bitter laugh.

“Well, I’m not… I don’t have time to go out with ‘people’.”

Do you even know why it’s so goddamn impossible for me to let you go? Because every song, every moment, and every person reminds me of you.

Why did you even want to see him this time around? Have you ever thought about that? It didn’t even matter because it was always the same. You suddenly forget how you feel or whatever you wanted to say as soon as you’re in front of him. Even if you said something, he wasn’t going to listen. He never does.

“Are you dating someone?”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about. I need to know why you left me that night.”

“So, you are dating someone...”

“Just tell me why you left me.”

“Fine, I bet I won’t even remember this in the morning,” you laugh softly, maybe in preparation for what you would say next.

You collapse back onto your couch, sighing as your head sinks into the soft cushions. Your eyes drift upward, fixating on the blank expanse of the ceiling above you.

“It’s just that… I don’t know; that day, you were acting so strange toward me, and I truly thought you weren’t my Yoongi anymore. It’s like you were dying to get out of there, and I figured it would be better if I was the one who left first”. You smiled, but everyone could have seen the bitterness behind it. “I trust- no, I hoped… that what you told me that you wanted for us was true, but I couldn’t see a trace of that in you anymore. I didn’t want to turn into an anxious mess and think about you non-stop or… try to find out why you acted like that, so yeah, I left you again.”

He felt a tightness in his chest when he heard you say, “My Yoongi.” It wasn’t helping that your words sounded so real to him at that moment. This was easily the third time he’d seen you somewhat vulnerable. He was going to regret talking about this.

“Do you want me to ask you what was going on with you that day?” Your head was still on the couch, but it was now turned to get a better look at his face. You were still smiling.

He thought, Why is she smiling? Why is she always smiling?

“But you said you weren’t gonna remember this in the morning.” There goes his sweet laugh again.

“We can try.”

“Can we try with a kiss instead?”

Only the sound of cars driving by could be heard.

You don’t even remember that kiss anymore.

That should have been a dead giveaway that everything was bound to turn out very wrong after that night.

The following days were even worse. Your conversations over text were boring and awkward. You felt that he was being an ass on purpose, as if he was making you pay for what you “put” him through. Sick and tired. That’s how you were beginning to feel towards this ongoing joke. Over the week, you started remembering the first thing you wrote about him. It was the first time you’d drifted apart.

“I want to see you. I want to be with you now. I hate feeling this needy. I like you so much that I don’t know what to do with all these emotions. Remember that night when we kissed for the first time? Our lips touched, and I think my heart lost its rhythm for a few minutes. It’s okay if you don’t remember it the way I do. But I want you to know that I’ll never forget how you made me feel that night. I think I fell in love with you since then. I’ve missed you almost every day since you left. I realized that I look pretty when I’m sad, but I look prettier when somebody says your name, and I smile uncontrollably. I wish I could explain the physical pain I feel inside my chest when I think about you. And I wish that pain could be erased if we’re being honest. I don’t know what’s wrong with us. I’m running out of ideas to make this work, and I feel like if I don’t do something to save us, you won’t do it either; even though I know you care, I know you’re just going to stand there, arms crossed watching everything drift away. I can’t get out of my head that time you said that you felt that you were hurting me instead of making me feel good, and I said that sometimes I think I hate you. I swear I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I’m too scared of losing you for good because I have this feeling that I won’t feel like this ever again; I’m afraid I’ll have to lose this part of myself that feels genuinely in love with someone. I thought we were made for each other. I thought you were one of my soulmates. I still think we are. But we keep fucking it up every single time. I won’t lie; I’m fine some days, but the smallest things break me. I know it’s not your fault that I’m so damn sensitive, but my feelings have always been this intense, this is who I am, and I was hoping that you would learn to love the whole mess that I am just as much as I love yours. It’s not that I can’t be with someone else and forget about you—I know I can—but I don’t want to be without you. I don’t know what it is about this day, but my head feels so much heavier when we’re having problems. I feel mad at you, and I bet you’re mad at me, too. Have I always been this hard? Or are you just realizing that being with me is a lot of work and I’m not worth it? I’m not ready to let you go. You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted to keep around. You treat me so well when we’re together. I love when you take my hand in yours. I love every time it’s just you and me, and we talk about life. There’s no one for me but you. You’re the only face I can see. I hope you know I’m only pretending to hate you when I love you so much. After all, I’ll always hope it’s you and me in the end. I’m happy if I get to be with you.”

That was seven fucking years ago. Funny huh?

It was never supposed to turn out like this. Who would’ve thought that someone could pull you down like this under the guise of love? Was it really only an individual’s fault?

Did it keep going because no one wanted to be the bad guy? If we didn’t have feelings for each other, if we didn’t think of each other, would we have dragged it on like this?

Those words played over and over again in your head. Whenever you came to be together again, that was eventually all you wondered about.

That first letter was born when the first layer that was blinding you was uncovered. It was as if something was finally letting you see the shape of the person Yoongi was—or at least the person he was with you.

Next year. The second “letter” came.

“Everything’s been so weird lately. I don’t get you. You didn’t talk to me for three days, yet you still think I’ll say yes when you want to see me late at night when you finally feel like it? Seriously? I’m angry at you, but mostly, I’m angry at myself. How can I be so blind to not realize that nothing will ever happen between us? Why am I still here? I know it’s because I want to be with someone, but maybe that person is not you. Because if you wanted to, we would be something by now. I know you won’t ever change because it’s been 2 years since this started, and you’re still the same. Maybe I fell in love with the hope and longing. All I did was imagine myself with you, I thought I was being patient about us. I can’t help but be a hopeless romantic, that’s all I’ve been my whole life. Occasionally, I find myself doing dumb shit all the time, like apologizing to the stars on behalf of both of us for not keeping our promises. I’ve been thinking about how sad I have been lately. Telling myself I’m stupid for loving you after all you’ve made me go through, how useless I feel, and how painful every day gets, honestly, this love I feel for you is making me crazy. But I shouldn’t be worrying about this. I know it may seem complicated to live with a broken heart, crying until your tears make you blind. I keep saying to myself, “It’s time you get yourself together, fall in love with yourself again, and forgive yourself for thinking you were stupid when you only acted out of love for someone who couldn’t see all you were.” But let’s be honest, being aware of all this still doesn’t make it any easier. I still feel so lost. And confused. I wish I knew how to stop loving you. I miss my peace of mind. I know what I’m supposed to do but don’t know where to start. I know that one day we’ll cross paths again, and I won’t feel a thing anymore, but until then, I’ll keep trying to convince myself that I don’t want you anymore. What have you done to me? What have I done to myself? What is it about you that ended up putting me through this hell? For the past few months, we barely saw each other. I still remember the last words we exchanged, and I feel sick, I keep wishing you would’ve done something else, hoping you would’ve said something different, but wishing for this doesn’t matter anymore, I’ll just keep hurting myself if I keep thinking about this version of you that I kept romanticizing. I’m tired now. All this was too much for me. But let me tell you one thing. I never even thought for a second that I was wasting my time with you. Not even when all my friends told me so. I took pride in myself for “knowing” when a guy doesn’t want you, but you were so confusing. You used to always be there. You knew exactly what to do and what to say so I could keep my love alive, making me think that maybe one day we would be together, but now I’m truly fed up with you. I’m angry. I know I can live without talking to you, but I don’t think I can be in the same room with you and not feel a thing. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand me. I want us to end on good terms because I know it’ll be impossible for us to stop seeing each other. So please help me, because this won’t be easy for me. I still care about you. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to keep crying, but understand me, I’m not crying for you. It’s just that I have so much inside me that I could never say to you. I know now that I was too much for you.”

In the span of two years, all that relationship lay before your eyes, yet somehow you didn’t want to see it. You decided to keep your hope alive even if it hurt you.

Several breakups between the two of you. A few relationships with other people in the middle of it all. Countless times you wanted to run to him just one more time. The occasional texts came from him, asking how you were and if you wanted to meet again.

You tried to be strong most of the time. You even felt you had gotten over Yoongi on every period where you’d stopped running into him. Those were the times when it was easy. But it was also quite embarrassing how quickly you’d fall into his trap once he got into your head again.

So yeah, you caved in after that kiss from last night.

You were letting this happen. You wanted this on this occasion.

It should be fine, right?

Eventually, after a few weeks, both of you started sorting out your emotions and everything felt pretty normal again.

Why do I make things so complicated when there’s no need to?

You can’t help but doubt yourself and doubt him. You want to know what’s in his head, yet you know it should be enough for you that he wants to keep seeing you.

All these doubts made you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re treating this in the same way you would’ve years ago.

Just focus on the now.

Aside from that…

You like him very much. He can talk about a bunch of things with you. He can be cute when he wants to be. You used to have a lot in common in terms of music. You like his style. And let’s not get started on his tattoos. ON TOP OF THAT, HIS ARMS. For some weird reason, I always forget he has dimples.

Ultimately, years pass and you always run back to him. You genuinely enjoy being in the same room as him.

No one has gotten close to how he makes you feel. Every time you see him again, everything feels the same. Your feelings towards him haven’t changed.

The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle but never break.

A month later

Ah, shit.

You were having a relatively good weekend. It was the 4th of July. You spent it with your family and now it was almost midnight but you were still texting with your best friend. She was at a party with Sam, Jess, and all the guys. You were experiencing a mild fomo, but you had a deal with your parents, so you had to pass that party this time.

Even Jungkook texted you earlier asking why you weren’t there. But that’s another story.

Your best friend was getting drunker with every text she sent, but she had put herself on the task of updating you with all of Yoongi’s whereabouts and doings.

I mean go ahead I guess. It makes me feel like it’s my fault for not showing enough interest again. This is making me uneasy. Because I like him but turns out he doesn’t like me enough? I WANT TO SCREAM.

I shouldn’t be angry because it’s my fault. I know so. I’m not trying enough, and maybe this was bound to happen. I can’t ask him to just talk to me. He needs to live his life too, he’s human, and he gets tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t seem “invested” in him. FUCK.

He ended up coming to your place around 1 a.m.

And this time, you actually talked. You were worried he’d drank too much, but he showed to be as sober as one can be.

Before he got there, you were extremely nervous, but once you sat with him on your couch, all your tension and fears calmed down. You valued that he was able to make you feel that way.

Your feelings went on a rollercoaster in a matter of a few hours, it was so fucking strange to read those words. To paint yourself a picture of what Yoongi was doing with you.

“Why weren’t you at the party?”

“I spent the whole weekend with my parents, so I couldn’t go.” “I wanted to, though.”

“It would’ve been cool if you had gone, everyone was asking about you.”

A smirk appeared on your face. “And what did you tell ’em?”

“That you didn’t want to see me,” He joked.

You started playing with him.

“That’s sliiightly true,”

After that, he laughed but got closer to you. He even got a lot more talkative, narrating to you everything he and your friends did earlier on. You were pretty entranced in him. It’s risky when you love to hear someone just talk. He took in the way you were gazing at him and figured there was no point in wasting more time. It was obvious Yoongi only went to your place to see if he was getting lucky tonight.

You realized his face was inching closer to yours. Your eyes scanning his own. Him doing the same, with the occasional glance at your lips. You weren’t gonna kiss him. Still, you let him get close enough so your lips could brush each other.

Then you smiled.

You weren’t gonna miss the chance to let him try to explain to you what the hell was going on, so you thought you’d go straight to the point.

“Can I ask you something?”

He returned your smile.

“Wait, let me guess”- “You want to know if I have a girlfriend”.

Motherfucker.

Your smile faltered slightly at him guessing the question, but he maintained eye contact with you. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you wanted to ask,” he replied. His tone is a mix of playfulness and seriousness. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The way his mind immediately went there. We’ll worry about that later.

Yoongi’s words echoed in your ears, you couldn’t help but believe him. There was something about his voice, his gaze, that made you blindly trust his every word.

Yoongi’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering. “I want you to know that I’m being genuine right now. I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m not seeing anybody formally, romantically, emotionally, or whatever you imagined. I want to give us a chance to make things right for you.”

You clung to the hope that this time he was telling the truth.

A sense of relief washed over you as you leaned closer to Yoongi. Ignoring the cautionary whispers in the back of your mind, you let yourself be swept away by his intoxicating presence.

His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and for a moment, it felt like all your doubts and worries faded away.

Days turned into weeks, and you reveled in the blissful illusion of having Yoongi in your life once again. Yoongi seemed attentive, caring, and utterly devoted to you. He showered you with affection, making you believe that you were his only one this time.

Over the next months, your interactions with Yoongi were limited to texts. There were no dates or visits to your house or his place, for that matter. It’s like he was growing bored. But that’s nothing new anymore.

You started to grow tired of his refusal to let you go, even if he didn’t like you the way you liked him. You knew it was time to move on and find someone who would honestly reciprocate your feelings.

And then, on a spontaneous note, one day, you stumbled upon someone through Instagram.

thv replied to your story.

It started with you two sending each other songs for a few days.

Then, when you got to actually talk to him. You realized he was funny, his music taste almost immaculate, he was extremely nice to you, and he cared about what you had to say. You basically had the same interests. And hands down, you enjoyed talking to him a lot.

Ever since you started talking to this new guy, called Taehyung, you felt like something had shifted in your life. And it’s only been 3 days since then.

This time, it turned out you were wrong. Wrong about everything.

I can’t regret anything, because I tried, I wholeheartedly tried. I don’t plan to try and understand him anymore.

Yoongi had been lying through his teeth the whole time. He did have a girlfriend, and he reveled in his power over you. He enjoyed playing with your emotions, relishing in his control over you.

You found out a few days ago, and you struggled to know what to do. You weren’t going to just ghost him. You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be passive-aggressive toward him, and it showed in your texts.

But you weren’t counting on that he was even more of a cynic than you. And you were getting angrier that he wouldn’t accept anything and refused to let the conversation die.

So yeah, it took 3 days.

It took you that long to get yourself way ahead of everything. About Taehyung specifically.

You don’t remember having met him before.

If only you knew that he remembers the first time he saw you in college and several parties after that.

He’d grown attracted to you every time he saw you. However, you never once seemed to acknowledge his presence.

And don’t get him wrong. He didn’t mind. You were just a platonic interest. Somehow he knew you weren’t exactly available even if he never saw you with a guy before.

He just took his chance a few days ago, not expecting anything. Just with the simple excuse of finally getting to know you.

He was a good listener, interested in your thoughts. With each message exchanged, your connection grew extremely fast.

This got you scared. You had barely talked to him and were already getting VERY INTERESTED.

On the fourth day, he invited you to the movies, but ended up going out to two bars and then dancing.

You shared even more stories, talked about your dreams, and even found yourselves discussing your insecurities in your love life.

Taehyung made you feel seen, heard, and valued – something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He was patient and understood your reservations.

On the cab, in the way back to your place, you rested your head on his shoulder, hand in hand, you truly felt so calm, it had been the nicest date ever.

Hell, you haven’t even had a proper date in years. So, no one can blame you when you finally let yourself be vulnerable for once.

Taehyung knew he’d like you, but never to this extent. He wasn’t scared when he realized he was falling in love with you. All he wanted was to see you every single day from now on. He took the initiative to plan a date next week, but you went out of town to visit your cousin.

So Monday it is. There was only one thing that you had to take care of. Before you let yourself move on to the next step in your love life.

Dealing with Yoongi was getting tiring, so it finally happened. The long overdue conversation occurred. Over texts, but it happened.

For once, you didn’t see the point in continuing. You and Yoongi have been through this road way too many times, and nothing has changed.

You decided to cut ties with Yoongi for good on that Monday. From now on, Taehyung could be the only one in your head.

As you were getting ready for your date with Taehyung, you couldn’t help but think about your conversation with Yoongi just a few hours ago. It was strange how life presented you with new opportunities right on the heels of letting go of the past. The decision to leave Yoongi was still fresh in your mind, but you hoped that this date with Taehyung would make you feel different, as bad as it could sound, but a distraction to that awful bit.

Taehyung took you to the movies, and from the moment the film began, your hands found each other’s, fingers intertwining. The dimly lit theater provided the perfect backdrop for this quiet display of affection. The movie itself was fun at times, but it was almost a blur of scenes and dialogue because your attention was elsewhere. You didn’t realize that Taehyung also spent that entire hour and a half not watching the movie, but watching you. He observed the way your eyes lit up at the funny parts, the sound of your laughter made his heart skip a beat. It was as if he had his own private screening of your reactions, and to him, it was the most captivating thing in the world.

The next stop on your adventure was an arcade, a place filled with flashing lights and the noise of all the games you can imagine. You couldn’t resist the air hockey table, and without hesitation, you both grabbed the paddles. As the puck glided across the smooth surface, it was evident that both of you were really good at it. Soon, a couple of small kids had gathered around, their eyes wide with fascination as they watched you play.

Taehyung, multitasking effortlessly, started chatting with them while maintaining his competitive spirit. A little girl, no older than seven, stood beside you, her eyes sparkling with innocence. She looked up at you with a hopeful smile and asked, “Are you going to beat your boyfriend?” Her question caught you off guard, and you burst into laughter at her adorable bluntness. Taehyung, engrossed in his conversation with the other kids, didn’t hear the question. All he could see was how your laughter sounded like the sweetest melody in the world.

Distracted by your laugh, Taehyung lost to you in the game. The little kids erupted in cheers, celebrating your victory as if you had just won a championship. They eagerly lined up to give you high-fives, momentarily forgetting that Taehyung even existed. That was until he, still keen on entertaining the kids, asked if they knew how to play. The result was an excited chorus of enthusiastic and loud ‘yes’s’.

It was an endearing sight as Taehyung listened attentively to the kids. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily he connected with them.

“Okay, guys, what’s the next game we should play?” Taehyung asked, genuinely intrigued by their suggestions.

The kids seemed to have a dozen ideas at once, and it was all a jumble of arcade classics, from racing games to shooting hoops. One girl, with a mischievous glint in her eye, pointed at the dance machine in the corner.

“Can we try that dance game?” she asked, her excitement infectious.

Taehyung exchanged a playful glance with you, and you both agreed, despite the potential embarrassment that awaited you. The music blared from the machine, and you gave it your all, dancing like nobody was watching (except a group of kids, of course). Taehyung joined in nervously, even though his dancing skills were almost too good.

The kids burst into laughter at everyone’s dance moves, cheering you on with each step. It was one of those moments where embarrassment turned into pure joy, and you couldn’t have cared less about who was watching.

It was heartwarming to see him engage with them, making sure each child had a good time. After making sure the kids had enough tokens to keep playing, Taehyung gently took your hand, and together you wandered through the arcade. The place was a riot of flashing lights and game sounds, but it all faded into the background as you explored hand in hand.

Eventually, you came across the game involving knocking down rows of clown figures. You both paused, taking in the challenge. With the timer ticking down, Taehyung turned to you. His eyes sparkled with affection, and amidst the blinking lights and arcade tunes, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You paused for a moment, your heart racing as you looked into Taehyung’s eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him - far from it. In fact, you felt a strong pull towards him, a connection that seemed to grow with every passing second. Even more so, after the side of him you saw today.

But there was something holding you back, a nagging doubt that whispered in the back of your mind. You had just met Taehyung, and even though the chemistry between you two was sweet, you wanted to take things slow. You didn’t want to rush into anything, not after what you’d been through with Yoongi.

So, with a soft smile, you gently shook your head and replied, “Not yet.” It was a response that carried a promise, a promise that there would be time for kisses and more in the future, once you were both ready to take that step. Taehyung nodded understandingly, his smile mirroring your own, and you continued your adventure to a bar, still hand in hand.

As you settled into a cozy corner of the bar, the atmosphere shifted, becoming more intimate. The soft hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and mellow jazz music in the background created the perfect backdrop for a meaningful conversation.

You started by talking about your time at the arcade, laughing about how the kids had cheered for you when you won the game. Taehyung joined in, sharing his amusement at their excitement. It was a light and joyful conversation that made you feel even closer to him.

Taehyung was genuinely interested in getting to know you better. He asked about your family, and you shared stories about your parents and siblings. In turn, he spoke fondly about his own family, reminiscing about childhood memories and you noticed how much he loved them.

Work became the next topic of discussion. You both talked about your careers, your aspirations, and the challenges you faced in life. Taehyung’s dedication and passion for his job shone through, and you found yourself admiring his determination.

As the night wore on, the conversation deepened. You talked about life, dreams, and the things that truly mattered to you. It was a conversation that left you feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You realized that this was different from anything you had with Yoongi, something that was still scary to you.

As the night progressed and the conversation with Taehyung deepened, you couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between him and Yoongi. Taehyung’s genuine interest in getting to know you, his kindness, and his openness were like a breath of fresh air compared to the complexity and uncertainty of your history with Yoongi.

The realization that this connection with Taehyung was different, something new and potentially beautiful, both excited and scared you. It was scary because it meant stepping out of your comfort zone, venturing into unfamiliar territory, and leaving behind the emotional rollercoaster that had defined your relationship with Yoongi.

But that fear didn’t deter you. In fact, it fueled a sense of courage you hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe you were ready to embrace something real, something stable, and something built on honesty and trust. It was a daunting prospect, but for the first time in a while, it might be worth taking that leap into the unknown.

The night had stretched on longer than you had initially planned, but you didn’t mind one bit. In fact, you didn’t want it to end.

As Taehyung’s car pulled up to your place, reality seemed to rush back in. With the engine turned off and the night’s silence settling around you, you both remained seated in the car. It was one of those moments where time felt suspended, and neither of you seemed in a hurry to say goodbye.

You gazed into Taehyung’s eyes, his warm and sincere gaze locked onto yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. You knew what you wanted, and in this moment, you felt a surge of courage you hadn’t experienced before.

Taehyung’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he said, “I had a really great time tonight.”

You smiled, your heart racing. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice equally hushed.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Finally, you took a deep breath, your nervousness mingling with excitement. “Taehyung, can I ask you something?”

His eyes were curious. “Of course.”

Without overthinking it, you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Taehyung. In the dimly lit car, your lips finally met a gentle and electrifying connection that seemed to seal the promise of something new, something real.

As you pulled away, your foreheads touching, you whispered, “I’ve actually been wanting to do that all night.”

Taehyung chuckled, feeling a newfound hope. “Me too.”

Unable to resist kissing him way longer, you reached out again. The kiss started slow, a tantalizing exploration of each other’s lips. Your mouth was warm and inviting, and Taehyung couldn’t resist the urge to deepen the kiss.

Your lips moved together with a fiery passion, tongues dancing in a tango. There were no more words, just the intoxicating taste of each other. Your hands roamed, tracing all of his torso, igniting a fiery desire within both of you.

Taehyung bit your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine, and you responded with a soft moan. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more fervent. It was a hunger that had been building all night, and now it was impossible to contain.

The kiss was wild, a passionate exchange, a language of desire and longing. You explored every inch of each other’s mouths, savoring the taste of your newfound connection.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, lips swollen and hearts pounding. Taehyung’s eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that matched the fiery kiss you had just shared.

He whispered, his voice husky, “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.”

You grinned, your own desire burning bright. “I’m glad we finally did.”

As you entered your home, the soft glow of your phone illuminated the room. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a series of texts from Taehyung, sent with an urgency that mirrored the fiery passion of your kiss.

From that moment on, there wasn’t a single time of day when you weren’t texting each other. The connection between you two was electric, and it seemed like every message, every word, only deepened your bond. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to invite you again on a date, and he chose a taproom for the occasion.

Taehyung arrived the following Saturday at your doorstep around 7 p.m., his charming smile lighting up the evening. Dressed casually but looking effortlessly handsome, he greeted you warmly.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice a pleasant melody. “Ready for our night out?”

With a nod and an excited smile, you locked the door behind you and joined him. The short drive to the taproom was filled with easy conversation and soft laughs. When you arrived, you were greeted not just by the cozy atmosphere of the taproom but also by some of Taehyung’s friends who had already gathered there.

Taehyung couldn’t contain his excitement about introducing you to his friends. He made the rounds, enthusiastically presenting you to each one of them, his introductions filled with admiration. As the evening went on, his friends couldn’t help but tease you both when they knew you weren’t officially a couple.

However, that made them gush about Taehyung. They spoke of his kindness, his sense of humor, and his unwavering loyalty. They assured you that you’d found someone truly special, and it was clear they thought he’d done the same in finding you.

Throughout the night, amidst the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. Taehyung’s friends were welcoming, and their approval only added to the unique feeling of the evening.

As the night continued, the connection between you and Taehyung deepened. Your hands naturally gravitated towards each other, fingers interlacing as if they had always belonged together. There was a palpable comfort in being so close, and the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

In the midst of this enchanting evening, a message from Sam popped up on your phone. She was suggesting a plan for tomorrow - a baseball game. Without a moment’s hesitation, you enthusiastically said yes.

But what made your heart race, even more, was the eagerness to include Taehyung in your plans. You turned to him, a radiant smile on your face, and said, “Hey, my friends just invited me to a baseball game tomorrow. Do you want to join us? It’d be amazing if you’d come with me.”

His eyes lit up with delight at the invitation, and he nodded, “yeah, I’d love to be there with you.”

It felt like a natural step, merging your separate worlds and bringing Taehyung closer to your heart.

In your world, your friends were your anchors, your family, and the people who knew you best. If someone couldn’t fit into that crucial part of your life, it was often a telling sign that the relationship might not make it.

As you looked forward to the baseball game the next day, there was a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You believed in Taehyung and the genuine connection you shared, but there was always that sliver of doubt. Would he mesh well with your friends? Would they see what you saw in him?

But deep down, you had a feeling that this was a significant step. If Taehyung could seamlessly become a part of your world, it would be a powerful confirmation of your relationship.

Thoughts of tomorrow’s baseball game, and the potential changes it might bring, had temporarily vanished. All you craved at that moment were the hugs, kisses, and the warmth of holding Taehyung’s hand.

The atmosphere seemed to hum with your love surge, an electric charge that coursed through you, making every moment feel like a heart-pounding adventure. As you bid farewell to Taehyung’s friends, you couldn’t wait to be alone with him, to dance again at the same bar where your love story began.

Tonight, something was different. Your excitement was on an all-time high. The tension that had built up between you over the last dates, the unspoken desires and emotions, were now rising to the surface. The connection between you two was undeniable, and your touches were igniting sparks that seemed to intensify with each passing second.

In the dimly lit bar, the pulsating beat of the music coursed through your veins, syncing with your every move. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and as you moved to the rhythm, your dance became a sensual invitation. Your body swayed and undulated in harmony with the music, your hips swiveling provocatively to the seductive melodies.

Taehyung watched you with desire burning in his eyes, unable to resist the magnetic pull you had on him. Your dance was a mesmerizing display of confidence and allure. Your hands moved sensually across your own body, tracing the curves and contours that begged for his touch.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Taehyung stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your hips. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him as he succumbed to the same fiery rhythm.

Your bodies moved together, pressed intimately against each other. The heat between you grew with every tantalizing sway, and the world around you faded into obscurity. In that moment, there was only the two of you, lost in the lights of desire and passion, each movement drawing you closer to an inevitable collision of lips and bodies.

As the night at the bar wore on, the two of you shared more than just dances. After one particularly intense moment, you found yourself with your back pressed against Taehyung’s chest, the thumping bass of the music reverberating through both of you. His breath was warm against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. In that space, with his arms wrapped around your waist, it felt as if the world had disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his closeness and the rhythmic beating of your hearts in unison.

Between dances, you took breaks to calm yourselves with a beer or whatever drink you saw first at the bar. Each moment spent apart only seemed to fuel the intensity of your attraction. With every sip of your drink, you couldn’t help but glance back at Taehyung, a magnetic pull drawing you together once more. The atmosphere was heady with desire, and your chemistry was through the roof. Each dance, each stolen moment, was a step closer to something neither of you could resist any longer.

After those couple of hours of dancing that left you slightly breathless, you decided to seek refuge in one of the dimly lit booths at the corner of the bar. It provided a temporary sanctuary from the dance floor, allowing you to catch your breath and collect your thoughts amidst the lust that was echoing in your ears. The low hum of laughter and conversation from people around you provided a calming backdrop as you settled in, your heart still racing from the intimate moment with Taehyung, who had managed to stir emotions you hadn’t felt in quite some time.

He slid into the seat opposite you, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers through your body. In the closeness that the booth offered, you could feel something deeper between you. It was as though the music, which had once enveloped you in its intoxicating embrace, was reduced to a mere murmur in the back.

With a playful grin, Taehyung finally broke the silence that had settled between you. “You know,” he began, his voice a low, seductive murmur, “I think we might just be causing a lot of jealous looks in here.”

You chuckled, the sound husky and filled with desire. “I noticed.”

His fingers traced patterns on the table, drawing invisible lines as he continued, “It’s not just about dancing, though. I’ve been imagining being with you like this since the first time I laid eyes on you, and it’s been killing me all night.”

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your ears as you whispered, “Since the first time you saw me?” Not trusting yourself enough to say what you were really thinking, so you mirrored his words.

Taehyung’s hand reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. “I can’t keep my composure anymore,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking about more than this all week.”

He paused, his gaze locked onto yours with a smoldering intensity. “You know,” he added with a sultry smile, “seeing you getting along so well with my best friends earlier, it just… made me so hard.”

The anticipation hung in the air like a charged current, a palpable magnetism drawing you closer together. It was a sensation you couldn’t ignore, a magnetic pull that seemed destined to ignite into something more profound.

You bit your lip, your pupils were blown, unable to contain the emotions surging within you. “Taehyung,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “if you keep this up, I think I might fall in love with you.”

His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and affection as he leaned in closer. “Is that so?” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Moments later, Taehyung led you to his apartment.

“I’m glad that we can finally be together like this.” He said with a sincere smile, his hand moving lower to cup your ass. He couldn’t resist anymore; he had to have you right then and there.

He slid his hand under your skirt, feeling the smoothness of your skin against his fingertips. Traced the outline of your panties through the fabric of your bottom. Taehyung felt a wave of arousal wash over him as he painted himself a picture of what lay beneath. Slowly, he slid his hands up your legs until he reached the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to him.

The sudden exposure caused you to blush slightly, but it only fueled his desire further. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of what came next “*Aren’t you going to see how wet I got because you?”

He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, then gently placed his hand on your inner thigh. As he did so, he whispered in your ear. “Do you really want me to do this?”

“I want this, trust me.”

He slid his hand up higher, feeling the warmth and dampness of your cunt. He could hear your soft gasps and moans as he touched your pussy. He continued to stroke you gently, feeling your muscles tighten around his fingers.

He heard your moans and started to become even more aroused. He could feel his own hard on growing in his pants, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you both got carried away. He slowly pulled back from you and looked into your eyes, his face flushed red with desire. You could tell that he was just as affected as you were.

You nodded, your eyes locked with his as desire coursed through your veins. You breathed, “I want you to touch me. I need your hands in me.”

A low growl rumbled in Taehyung’s throat as he gave you a hungry look, his fingers inching closer to your dripping core. “Fuck,” he muttered, unable to contain his own need. “I’ve been dreaming about this for days. About burying myself deep inside you.”

The raw desire in his words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, desperate for his touch.

His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly avoiding direct contact with where you needed him most. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you fought to maintain a hint of control.

“Please, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “don’t make me wait.”

A wolfish grin tugged at the corners of Taehyung’s lips as he finally gave in to both of your desires. His fingers dipped into your wet heat, eliciting a moan from deep within your throat.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “Did I make you this way? Did I make that pretty little pussy of yours ache for me?”

All coherent thought flew out the window as Taehyung pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots that made pleasure surge through every nerve ending in your body. You could only manage to nod and let out a desperate moan in response.

He wrapped his other hand around your neck, pulling you closer to him. He could feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers, and he knew that you were enjoying this a lot.

He started to apply pressure to your neck, feeling your body respond to his touch. You let out a small gasp of air, and as he continued to choke you, he leaned in closer to your ear and whispered. “Do you like this, baby? Is this what you wanted?”

His thumb found its way to your clit, circling the swollen bud and sending jolts of electricity straight to where you needed it most. The pleasure was overwhelming, bordering on blissful torture, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, baby,” Taehyung whispered, his hot breath fanning across your ear. “I want to feel you cum around my fingers.”

His words were all it took to push you over the edge. The coil of pleasure that had been building inside of you snapped, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through your body. You clung to him as you rode out your orgasm, his touch the only anchor keeping you grounded in a sea of sensations.

As the last tremors of pleasure receded, Taehyung pulled his hand away and brought it up to his lips, sucking your taste off his fingers with a look of pure satisfaction on his face.

After a few hours spent in tangled in touches, the clock ticked its way to 4 a.m., signaling the impending end of the night’s bliss. Despite the energy that was bubbling up between you, the evening hadn’t ventured beyond the boundaries of those lewd touches, leaving something else lingering in the air. As the minutes kept passing, a sense of reality nudged its way back into the forefront of your mind.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined,” Taehyung’s voice, thick with desire, caressed the dimly lit room, echoing the sentiments of the night.

With a hazed smile playing on your lips, you gently disentangled yourself from Taehyung’s embrace, the need for rest tugging at your consciousness. “I have to go home, Taehyung,” you murmured softly, your words tinged with regret at the thought of parting, “I should get some actual sleep if we want to spend the whole day together again.”

Your fingers traced soothing circles along his shoulders, a silent reassurance of your affection. “You are coming with me tomorrow, right?” you queried, hope flickering in your eyes as you awaited his response.

In the hazy glow of his room, Taehyung’s gaze met yours, a promise dancing in his eyes. “Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice laced with determination, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With a final exchange of tender kisses and lingering glances, you reluctantly bid farewell to Taehyung’s warm embrace, bracing yourself for your way home.

Despite the lingering effects of last night’s alcohol roaming your body, a surge of adrenaline pulsed through your veins as you rolled out of bed, battling against the persistent fog of a very hungover you. With each groggy step towards the bathroom, the anticipation of the day ahead infused your weary limbs with energy, overriding the dull ache in your head.

As you splashed cool water on your face, the mirror reflected a mix of exhaustion and excitement in your eyes. Today was the day you’d introduce Taehyung to your best friends, a prospect that filled you with nerves. The thought of seeing their reactions, of sharing this part of your life with them, ignited a spark within you.

After downing a much-needed glass of water and popping a couple of painkillers to combat the lingering headache, you set about getting ready for the day. Despite the persistent throb at your temples, you couldn’t help but hum a tune under your breath, the thrill of today’s plan chasing away the last traces of drowsiness.

With each minute, the excitement grew, the clock ticking in slow motion as you counted down the moments until Taehyung went to pick you up. Finally, the sound of the doorbell shattered the quiet of the morning, heralding the arrival of your lover boy.

With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure you looked somewhat presentable despite feeling like shit, you hurried to answer the door, a smile of genuine delight spreading across your face at the sight of Taehyung standing on your doorstep, two large cups of coffee in hand and a grin that mirrored your own excitement.

“There we have my pretty and hungover girl,” he greeted you warmly, his eyes alight with anticipation, “are we all set for the big day?”

With a nod and a grin, you took the cup he handed you, the aroma wafting up to greet your senses. “Definitely”.

As you and Taehyung arrived at the stadium, the vibrant atmosphere of the bustling crowd greeted you with a wave of excitement. Sam, Gemma, and Jin were already waiting for you near the entrance, their infectious laughter echoing in the air as they exchanged playful banter.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up!” Sam exclaimed, her grin widening as she caught sight of you and Taehyung approaching. “And who’s this handsome stranger you’ve brought along?”

lmk if you're up for reading the second part of this mess 🤭 bonus. just a little jungkookie for fun

[pyode-luar-ke]

carnation | part i | poly!yautja x reader

A/N: this is sooooo self-indulgent, i almost didn’t post lol. but it turned out really good, and i’m proud of it so fuck it, y’know? also, i take sooooo many creative liberties with yautja lore and canon, so if anything like... doesn’t make sense, lmk and i’ll try to clarify LOL 💀

i have part 2 outlined, and it’s probs not gonna be as long as this one, so it should be out soonish. 💕

summary: you have a baby with your mates.

word count: 7,005

content: 18+, smut, fem!afab!reader, polyamorous relationship (F/M/M/M/M/M) (good lord lmao), reverse harem, pregnancy, mention of abortion, lactation, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, body image issues, a whole lotta love, public sex, voyeurism

part ii → (out now!!)

—

No one really anticipated you getting pregnant. Not really.

Sure, it was a possibility, but an incredibly improbable one. Human and Yautja DNA held some fundamental differences, in spite of being surprisingly similar in some regards. Thus, if the laws of biology and physiology were to be true, it dictated that procreation was exceedingly rare, if not entirely impossible to achieve.

Yet, here you were, against the odds, a testament to the universe’s principle of: If there is a will, there is a way.

—

Bhu’kei goes completely silent, not even a stray whicker or growl escapes him. He’s deathly still too, his only movement coming from his clawed fingertips as he taps at his gauntlet, again. This is enough to notify you without words that he’s rerunning the pregnancy test, confirmed when a green light scans over your midsection.

A part of you wants to stop him, to sit up and place a palm on his black-scaled arm, to say “It’s true, Bhu’kei, and it’s okay!”— but you don’t. There’s a small part of you that still reels from disbelief, that wants to recoil in shock and gasp, “It’s not possible!”

A small beep echoes in the dead quiet yurt, and Bhu’kei is still silent. And then he meets your gaze, the expression in his eyes paradoxically unreadable and completely decipherable. He looks apologetic, almost— like he’s waiting for the gravity of the situation to dawn on you, for you to realize just how rare and dangerous and life-threatening this is for you.

Yautja females are larger than their male counterparts; taller, more muscled, and sometimes even stronger. They are built to withstand the 12-month gestation of a Yautja pup, and the entirety of labor and delivery, with ease— an evolutionary gift bestowed upon them due to the fact that most approach childbirth completely alone.

Your disbelief morphs into raw terror— How the Hell do you expect your body to survive this?— and as quickly as that occurs, the raw terror morphs into absolute elation— Well, damn it, you’ll sure try. A smile so big and bright— one you didn’t even know you were capable of doing— splits across your face before you can stop it.

“I’m pregnant!”

—

Announcing your pregnancy to the rest of the camp was initially met with some pushback. Ap-tui, for one, argued that an oomani-di carrying a Yautja pup would be detrimental at best and fatal at worst. True to his blunt nature, he encouraged you to terminate the pregnancy, which probably should have upset you more than it did, but you saw his point.

You had considered abortion, but the thought was fleeting. Despite the potential (and possibly fatal) consequences of carrying a Yautja pup, you rationalized that due to the little to no information on interspecies breeding between humans and Yautja, that your pregnancy was somewhat of a miracle of nature.

Yautja document their history, they transcribe what they learn and all their knowledge about other planets and species and races into databases accessible to all. They have been hunting humans (a morbid thought to you, but one you’ve learned to reconcile with) for hundreds of years, ever since Earth made a blip on their radars.

There is nothing on interspecies breeding. It simply hasn’t happened yet.

That thought partly fueled your decision to keep the baby. More so, however, you wanted the pup— Children were always a desire of yours, and with the development of gaining a handful of Yautja males as your significant others, you had thought the dream had turned to complete fantasy.

Not anymore, you finally got your wish, and you wanted to see it play out, to be the first. Not so much in a selfish, glorifying way— But to stick the finger to the universe and say “Look what love can do.”

Your decision may have also been influenced by your very human strain of curiosity— Something that Van’chaa once told you Yautja lacked in spades.

So, with your mind dead-set on growing that fetus inside you, you shook your head and said, “No, I’m keeping it. It’s my pup.”

Ap-tui was not pleased with your response. Nor was Van’chaa and Th’chi. However, they did not try to press you further. Bhu’kei had already told them that while yes, it was dangerous; It was clearly a risk you were willing to take. And it was not a decision any of them could make for you.

Ultimately, their begrudging support was because you were still female. The Yautja males could do nothing but yield to your wishes. You may be of a different and much less capable species, but honorable and respected Yautja males obeyed their females. So, they would pay that same regard to you.

Thankfully, Ta’kaa’s propensity to celebrate the good in situations garnered a positive reaction that distracted you from the overall dour moods of his hunting brothers.

—

You break your glare with Ap-tui when you hear Ta’kaa whicker in excitement. He meets your gaze, molten eyes cheery and bright, and all the negative emotions leak out of you in an instant. The moss green Yautja scoops you up in his arms, all the while clicking happy noises from his mandibles. You can’t understand a word Ta’kaa says, so far gone in his elation the full Yautja tongue took hold.

Your arms wrapped loose around his neck, tears prick hot at your eyeballs as you watch Ta’kaa growl and clack and nuzzle his mandibles against the soft of your cheek. His body is like fire, and his touch is so tender, so you lean into his affections, smiling.

If there was one Yautja you could rely on for some positivity, it was Ta’kaa.

He is the youngest of the hunting party, and it shows. Ta’kaa acts far more on emotional impulse than the rest, but sometimes it makes him feel a little more human, so you don’t complain. Sometimes though, you have to remind yourself that Ta’kaa passed his Chiva and was Blooded decades before you were born. That often makes you remember that he is a Yautja, born and raised to be a hunter.

But you take his enthusiastic clicking and nuzzling with open arms, offering him kisses to his fluttering mandibles in return.

His elder brothers and cousins click and grumble amongst themselves, allowing their frustrations to air before they silence their grievances for good. Yautja are blunt and direct, so they know to speak out once and then never again. Issues of a more diplomatic blend tend to resolve quickly in Yautja circles.

Off on the sidelines, Ap-tui smothers his concerns deep inside his chest. He opts for watching you joyfully play with his younger brother, absorbing the way your strange, beautiful ooman face contorts with emotion. It took him a while to recognize that when you bare your teeth it means that you are happy, not attempting to threaten.

You are happy now, happy because you carry a pup in your womb, happy because Ap-tui remembers nights when he’s mated you, after which you’ve shed wetness from your eyes because all you’ve ever wanted was children. Another strange ability that oomans have: Crying.

He sees you’re crying now, but he knows it’s not from sadness.

A fairly important question arises in Ap-tui’s mind.

“Who is the sire?” He asks Bhu’kei, who pulls one of his daggers from its hilt at his shin. Bhu’kei doesn’t regard the hunt leader for a moment, instead opting to flip the blade in his hand, looking for impurities. When he finishes, the ink black Yautja glances out the corner of his eye at his cousin.

“You are.” Bhu’kei replies simply.

Ap-tui freezes.

—

“Bhu’kei told me that you’re the sire.” You murmur, coming behind your mate and placing your chin on his shoulder. His inky, blood red tresses tickle your cheek and neck, smooth and warm against your skin. He grunts in response, not moving from his stiff meditation pose.

Ap-tui had distanced himself from the group not long ago, escaping to his private yurt out of the corners of your peripheral. You had asked Bhu’kei what happened, as he was the last to speak to him, and the Yautja had told you then that the hunt leader was the biological father to your unborn pup.

Apparently, it was a semi big deal, as Ap-tui is the Firstborn of his bearer’s bloodline. Bhu’kei explained that, essentially, Firstborns split from their bearer’s clan when they bear or sire a pup of their own. This results in the Firstborn creating their own clan, one adjacent to their bearer’s, and in Yautja culture the position holds some weight.

It also surprised you to learn that, up until now, Ap-tui had not sired a single pup. Strange, considering he’s an elder Blooded warrior, not quite as old or experienced to be considered an Elder, but certainly no Youngblood. He should have already had many sucklings since accomplishing his Chiva, and learning that he didn’t— and that yours would be the first— filled you with a sense of pride.

Your baby with him would begin his clan with strength and status. Arrangements would need to be made, certain rites and bureaucratic agreements, but those could be saved for the future. You would give him his clan.

For now, you simply wrap your arms around Ap-tui’s torso, his corded muscles hot and strong under your arms. You kiss his shoulder.

“He also told me that’s very important.” You continue, and you kiss his reptilian-like mahogany hide again. This time, Ap-tui turns his head to look back at you, mandibles relaxed but set. His eyes look troubled.

“I am… conflicted.” He admits, and it must take all his strength to swallow his Yautja pride, if only for that little confession. You hum, and take a couple steps around him to settle yourself on his lap. Your hands rub at his broad pectoral muscles, fingers purposely catching on the twine-like string of his netted outfit.

Ap-tui looks away, jaws flaring and pulling tight rhythmically. You stare at his face, then at the scar he has that runs jagged across the crown of his head— One he received on a hunt when searching for a gift for you. The kiande amedha th’syra sits on the trophy wall in your quarters back on the hunting party’s ship, as do other gifts from the others.

“Mm. I could tell.” You reply, placing one of your hands on the side of his face. Gingerly, you turn his head so that he faces you directly, thumb rubbing lazy circles on the bone of his eye socket. A slow smile pulls the corners of your mouth up, and Ap-tui watches with hawk-like precision as your cute pink tongue wets your bottom lip.

He meets your gaze, your ooman eyes half-lidded and hungry.

“What troubles you?” You murmur, leaning in and kissing the scales above where his quad-rhythm heartbeat resides. He can tell you are trying to seduce him to wheedle out his deepest concerns. Ap-tui shivers a growl, heat settling in his bones, and he has to resist the urge to flood the yurt with his dia-shui.

“I do not want to risk you.” He confesses, running a gentle claw down the side of your face, admiring your soft, plump flesh. Ooman faces have always been captivating to him: The way you wear your emotions— blatant and raw and unforgiving.

“You’re not.” You kiss his palm as it comes to cup your cheek, and smile, “None of you are.”

Ap-tui is still hesitant and stubborn.

“Gestation may leech you.”

“Maybe— Who knows?”

His large paws trap your waist, claws brushing your skin, causing goosebumps to pepper your flesh.

“Birth will be disastrous. Perhaps fatal.”

“Isn’t it always?”

You cling to Ap-tui like he’s your lifeline. His dia-shui permeates the air, honeying it. The glaze of your arousal drives him wild. His pupils dilate to eclipse his fiery irises. He cannot help himself when he asks,

“Would you do it again? Bear our pups like a lou-dte kale?”

“Yes.”

You did not leave Ap-tui’s yurt for nearly two days.

—

The beginning months of pregnancy really only made your body fatigued and your mind sluggish. You found yourself sleeping far more often, usually clocking out well before the sun set past the horizon. This was usually in tandem to sleeping in until Ta’kaa or Th’chi awoke you to either let you know your mates would be going on a kv’var, or to just get you out from your bed of furs.

The latter usually resulted in them receiving the brunt of your sour mood and cold shoulder— A feat genuinely impressive, considering the lengths you’d go to shirk them.

Until, of course, you came to them in near tears, apologizing profusely and requiring many assurances. They would purr for you until all the wetness from your eyes dried. Th’chi especially did not like seeing you cry.

It was another can of worms pregnancy hormones opened: Mood swings.

—

You’re sure that this may be the angriest you’ve ever been.

The day could not be going worse: Th’chi wakes you at the asscrack of dawn, he doesn’t even bother helping you fix a fire for your breakfast, and then teases you to no end like he usually does, but this time he’s crossed the line.

Fury— molten hot and rising— boils under your skin. Such an intense anger you have to clench your hands into fists. You’re shaking.

“What. Did. You. Say. To. Me?” You growl through grit teeth, each word holding a venom that Th’chi is surprised you have within you, but he pays it no mind. It’ll take more than an angry oomani-di to threaten him. So, he only chortles, lilting his head. His eyes are mirthful, and you want to bash his face in.

“I said: You are rounding out impressively considering it’s only your forth month of gestation.” Th’chi says simply, poking the swell of your belly. Truly, despite only being four months along, you easily look as though you may be six. A side effect of carrying a fetus that’s almost too big for your womb.

That doesn’t dispel the fact that Th’chi is standing before you, a shit-eating look in his eye, and telling you that he thinks you’re fat. You already have been struggling with your changing body and self image. Th’chi only confirms your fears.

“I must also say, your thighs are fattening nicely as well.”

Th’chi must know he’s digging his own grave. He’s not this stupid. Or maybe he is. You’re starting to not care either way.

Bhu’kei has enough sense to stay put on the opposite side of camp.

Ta’kaa, Ap-tui, and Van’chaa have made themselves scarce. Faintly, you recall Van’chaa muttering something about an impromptu kv’var and cursing his younger brother’s name.

This is Th’chi’s mess.

You take a deep breath.

And then Hell breaks loose.

—

By the time you’ve finished your rant, you’re panting, hot in the face, and immediately regretting every word that came out of your mouth. Th’chi looks shocked, his shoulders set, and your heart breaks further when his eyes go stony and hard. He growls lightly, then pivots on his heel and stalks off, clearly upset.

Bhu’kei is looking at you, incredulous, but he only snorts and shakes his head. A pang of regret makes your heart clench behind your ribs. Oh God.

Salvaging whatever remaining anger you have, you turn on your heel and wander off to Ap-tui’s yurt that is halfway across camp. You don’t look back.

The second the yurt door closes, the heat of your anger completely dissipates and leaves you cold with shame and regret. Embarrassment, almost as liquid hot as the wrath before, comes crashing down on you. Immediately, you want to run back out and jump into Th’chi’s arms and tell him over and over how much you love him.

“Oh my God.” Your head falls into your palms, hot tears finally breaking through and wetting your lashes and hands. You said some absolutely heinous things to your mate, words that you made sure would sting. Sniffling wetly, you lower yourself on the edge of Ap-tui’s nest, wringing your fingers in the fibers of the fur beneath you. 

Part of you wonders if you should just stay here until the situation blows over. Another, louder part of you screams to tell you to suck it up and go apologize. A few minutes pass as you let yourself cry some more and ponder. The louder part wins: Shame is a powerful beast.

You rise (an action becoming harder and harder with your swelling middle) and make your way out Ap-tui’s yurt.

—

Hesitant steps take you to Th’chi’s personal yurt that sits adjacent to Bhu’kei’s. Said Yautja is where you last saw him, his midnight hide blending him into the dark metal of his yurt. He dips his head when he sees you and whickers in support when you stall in front of Th’chi’s door. His golden eyes are soft when he says, “Go to him. He needs only your presence.”

You smile sadly and nod, placing one hand atop the door’s biometric scanner and the other on your belly. The door opens and you step inside the yurt. His space smells like home.

When you spot Th’chi lounging on his bed, tears bubble up and spill over again, and he only clicks and opens his arms to you. You bound over as fast as you can, practically tossing yourself into his arms. He’s warm, and his chest begins to rumble with purrs— Calming, like the way that Yautja males do for distressed females.

“‘M sorry.” You mumble against Th’chi’s chest, “I dunno what came over me.”

He chitters, smoothing a palm down your hair like he’s petting you. His hand cradles the back of your skull and holds you close. Th’chi has dealt with the wrath of Yautja both in combat and in mating— Your spat was nothing short of amusing to him. Sure, your words had been hurtful in the moment, but he knew that none of them reflected your true intentions.

“Such fire, little mate.” He teases, tusks tickling your tear-stricken cheeks, “Our little sain’ja.”

Thankfully, his disregard for your outburst and comforting words lends to your tears to stop so profusely flowing. One of his rough thumbs smooths across the arch of cheek and wipes away the tears. Th’chi has never understood why and how oomans leak from their eyes (seems incredibly inconvenient) but he hates when you do.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.” You can’t help but say again, kissing his sternum. Th’chi only purrs louder, the velvety rumble beckoning your now exhausted self to sleep. You press closer to him, shifting in his lap as he grabs a fur to toss around your shoulders.

“I forgive you. Words spoken in the heat of anger often lack substance.” He replies, mandibles quivering when you place kisses to his chin. Th’chi will never admit it out loud, but he loves and desires your kisses like no other. He especially loves when your weird fleshy lips press against his face.

“I said such terrible things, Th’chi. I don’t know if I can forgive myself.” You murmur between soft pecks you leave on his slate blue skin, around the quills that grow from his collarbones. The hand he has on the back of your skull trembles almost imperceptibly before moving to grip your chin. Th’chi holds you as if you are glass.

“A Yautja female would never even entertain the thought of apologizing to a male. Even if she’s wronged him. Little mate,” Th’chi guides your eyes to look up at him, “You are more precious to me than the kv’var. You show yin’tekai in being here, with me, sharing my yurt and bearing my kin.”

Th’chi’s canary yellow eyes bore into yours. They look like twin suns.

“I love you, you big dope, y’know that?” You blubber after a stretch of silence, tears falling down your cheeks again, and this time Th’chi understands this wetness to mean you are happy.

He still doesn’t like it, so he purrs even louder to calm you down. You fall asleep only minutes later.

—

The mood swings began to taper around the time other parts of your body began to really feel the pregnancy. It was difficult to be distracted with your haywire emotions when your back started to hurt at all times, you were thirsty and hungry at all times, you peed a lot, and your ankles and hips were sore (and not the pleasant sore from having sex with one or more of your Yautja).

Not to mention the bowling ball that sat in your belly. The pup was big, heavy, and it was active. Your organs started to feel like punching bags. Especially your bladder, which is what your pup seemed to favor jabbing a foot into. It also liked squirming around when you slept, so the lack of sleep was fun.

And then there was the debacle with your breasts. It seemed that your human pregnancy hormones went into hyperdrive to compensate for the Yautja pup growing in your womb. The pup would need thrice the amount of milk as a human child once it was born, and the moment you entered your approximate second trimester, your already tender breasts ballooned to sizes you thought unimaginable. 

At first, it was difficult to reconcile your new, curvaceous bosom— Often you found yourself weeping at the sight of your engorged chest. Your swollen, flush tits hung nearly to your waist on either side of your round belly, nipples darkened and pointed straight to the floor. You missed your old breasts, and mourned the fact that they’d never be the same again.

Not to mention that they were awfully heavy, like two pendulous dumbbells that pulled at your upper back muscles. It was enough that your ankles, hips, and lower back ached, but your breasts added your shoulders to the list too.

—

“I can’t look at myself!” You sob into Van’chaa’s netted chest like a baby, blubbering about how much you hate your new figure, and that it makes you feel and look ugly. Van’chaa doesn’t say anything, only patting your head with a gentle paw as you weep against him.

He is desperately confused— Yautja do not suffer the same body issues as oomans do, and he thinks that the near-obsessive paranoia that you display about losing “your figure” is ridiculous. Of course, he would never tell you that directly, especially in the... tender mindset you’re currently in.

You are pregnant, carrying a Yautja pup— a future hunter to an apex predator race. Not to mention a Firstborn of a strong clan. That should bring you honor and respect. It should not bring you despair.

“Little mate,” He decides to coo, nuzzling your hair with his tusks, “No tears. Pregnancy is honorable, and it gives you status. You are like Paya.”

You sniffle, listening to his words and recognizing that Paya is the Yautja deity, and that any form of comparison is a big deal, but your self-image has still been utterly shattered. Confidence that you once had in your body has fallen to the wayside. You tell this to Van’chaa, and he chuffs, then stands up. He looks expectantly down at you, offering his hand, which you take to stand with still a lot of effort.

“Come.” He replies simply, and he starts walking off in the direction of the common yurt, the biggest one in the center of camp where your hunters store miscellaneous goods or shared objects. You walk after him, slowly and with a hand planted on your aching back, ignoring (for now) the hungry look Ta’kaa gives you from across the clearing.

Van’chaa stops at the yurt’s door, opening it and gesturing for you to step in first. You do, keeping your wary gaze on your mate as he strides to the opposite side of the hut, pulling from a wall compartment a sleek black box. Van’chaa strides just as confidently back to you, placing the box in front of you. He opens its top with a click of its latches, like a chest.

The direction of the box prevents you from seeing what Van’chaa is digging for, and you’re about to walk over and see for yourself when the midnight blue Yautja reveals four silver items in his paws. They look like mini gauntlets, obviously made for your human body, but they don’t seem to have any weapons or fancy technology attached.

“Remove your coverings.” Van’chaa rumbles, and the request has you recoiling. The simple white cotton dress you’re wearing really has no special connection to you, but it was one of the few articles of clothing you had. Plus, it was flowy and loose enough for your seemingly ever-growing body and covered up your Problem Areas quite effectively.

“Why?” You ask, shuffling on your feet and Van’chaa can smell your apprehension. He clicks and tilts his head to the side, his long, rubbery black tresses falling past his shoulder. 

“Do you trust me, little mate?” He asks, his low, gravelly voice is tender, like the way it gets when he reminisces to you about his bearer on nights when you’re both tipsy on c’ntlip. It’s the same voice he uses when he confesses his love for you under the blanket secrecy of midnight. Van’chaa reaches and cups your cheek in his palm, marveling at how his hand dwarfs you, purring.

“Yes.” You whisper, smiling softly and turning to kiss the palm of his hand. Van’chaa trills in delight, and withdraws his hand to pick up one of the metal cuff-like objects. He holds it out towards you, clicking.

“Then remove your coverings.” He says simple, and with a long, somewhat shaky sigh, you undo the tie at the front of your dress and bare yourself in one swoop. Van’chaa sees the apprehension and disgust towards your own body flash on your face, and once again he is so confused as to why you think so poorly of your own flesh.

He can’t help but marvel— Ooman physiology has always intrigued him, though he’d never admit it out loud. There’s something about the way your oomani-di body is so close to a Yautja female, similar in its curves and decidedly female traits.

And your specific ooman-ness draws him in further. Van’chaa always secretly admired your even, smooth skin, the softness of your plush flesh, your legs and thighs… Admittedly, it had taken him some time to get used to your strange, and by Yautja standards, ugly face, but now he looks forward to it each morning he wakes. He cannot imagine life without you.

Pregnancy does nothing to change his mind on this. If anything, watching your belly swell with pup and your breasts become milk-laden has been… titillating. It arouses some deep intimate, primal fire in his core— One that drives him to the edge (and sometimes over) of desire and back.

Van’chaa wants to lick the taut dome of your belly. He wants to feel you squirm and pant below him, wants to watch those bloated tits of yours bounce in time with his thrusts. One day, he wants to mate you until his seed takes hold. Then he will watch you swell again with his pup. The thought has him relaxing his mandibles.

“Van’chaa?” Your quiet pry pulls him from his reverie and makes him realize that he’d been flooding the air with his dia-shui. You’ve taken notice, as you’ve come to recognize the earthy musk, and your eyelids are now drooped halfway, lustful.

“Wrists. Ankles.” Van’chaa growls, ignoring (for now) the heady scent of your arousal that permeates the air around you. If he glances down, he’ll surely see the slick ambrosia dripping from your cunt. Van’chaa decides today is an exercise in self control. He all but tosses the cuffs to you.

—

The strange cuffs lock around your wrists and ankles firmly, yet gently. When you test one by flexing your arm, the metal seems to have some uncharacteristic give. It feels breathable and acts more like leather than steel. You go to ask Van’chaa why exactly you’re wearing them, when he presses a button on one of the cuffs.

You yelp as netting flows from all four cuffs, racing over your body like water on rocks. It’s very similar to what the Yautja wear beneath their armor, the same black thread-like material. But you can tell it’s stronger, more durable, and somehow it even provides you with some warmth. It must be temperature regulated in some way.

In addition, the net outfit must work in a way that provides support, as the usual pull on your back from your breasts and heavy belly is noticeably lessened. For that, you are eternally grateful.

... However, the net bodysuit— like your mates— acts more like a birthday suit than much else and does very little in the way of modesty. It practically leaves you half naked, though the netting over your crotch does seem to be a bit denser. The same can not be said for your breasts— the netting on your bloated tits and puffy nipples is exceptionally light in comparison.

“Van’chaa, what is this?” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and internally wincing at how much squishy yield your rack gives. He only chitters, those deep-set blue eyes of his shining in what you can only describe as mischief. You watch as his paws disappear back inside of the box, reappearing with a tiny, bird-like skull in hand.

You don’t recognize what animal it may be from— Earthen or otherwise— but you watch with bated breath as Van’chaa, in a way that can only be described as sacred, attaches the skull to the netting at the center of your chest. It sits atop the shelf of your cleavage, a centerpiece for what’s to come.

Van’chaa continues to decorate you, lining bones of all sorts on your hips in alternating patterns, always using sterling white ones. Before he pulls away from you, he adorns your neck with a bone necklace, clicking softly as he does. It’s like he’s whispering prayer, like the necklace of ivory and claws is as if you’re being bestowed a crown.

“Van’chaa...” You breathe, still taken aback at how tenderly and religiously your mate dressed you in items that his people would wear. He secures a leather-like cloth around your hips that ties below the bones on either side. The fabric covers your crotch and backside, giving you at least some modem of modesty. It’s not much, but at least you feel less nude.

Van’chaa pulls away from you, trilling. He’s elated, eyes bright and proud of his handiwork. Then, he visits the box again and this time pulls out a larger, thin item. He sets it in front of you, the glint of its surface catching the light— and your reflection.

It’s a mirror. A long, full body mirror that captures you in all your fat, pregnant glory. 

Body covered in fishnet netting, adorned with bones, dressed in leather; You honestly believe this is the most beautiful you’ve felt in a while. Your new body is complimented and spotlighted in this outfit, belly and breasts and all. The slopes and curves of your figure are hugged in a way that doesn’t make you want to look away.

You also notice, for the first time, how beautifully glossy your hair’s become. And the healthy glow on the apples of your cheeks. You look at the strange, bird-like skull on your sternum.

You look like a Yautja.

Van’chaa chuffs beside you, and you break your gaze from your reflection to see him offering you a pair of tiny sandals. The soles look to be made of thick leather, but the ties seem to be a softer material. When you take them from him, it all clicks in your mind.

“Van’chaa... did you make this all for me?” You ask softly, staring at the shoes in your hands before glancing back up at your mate. Van’chaa dips his head once in response, his electric blue eyes alight like lightning. His dia-shui is unavoidable and unignorable.

“Thank you.” You breathe, sighing in content when Van’chaa sweeps you up into his arms and deposits you onto his bed. The plush furs are soft and support you well. Your core is so hot at this point you nearly whimper. The air is glazed and thick and it’s like breathing in honey. Van’chaa situates himself above you, his tresses fall on either side of your head and he leans in close.

“Would you like me to show my thanks?” You coo, kissing the pink flesh of his flared mandibles, meeting his eyes when you lick up one of his tusks. Van’chaa growls in warning. He sees your coy play and calls you on it. One of his paws grips your thighs and spreads you for him. The leather flap is easily moved out of the way and it’s then you notice there’s an opening in the netting at the base of your core.

Easy access, you suppose, and all other thought escapes you when your mate snarls and presses the tent under his loincloth to your aching pussy. His other hand slides up your belly, then cups one of your breasts. Van’chaa squeezes, and you moan.

“Please fuck me.” You gasp, gripping his bicep when his claws toy with your nipple. The bones you wear click together like wind chimes. You say again, desperate and horny and feeling beautiful: 

“Please.”

Van’chaa happily obliges.

—

Another milestone you pass during the duration of your pregnancy also has to do with your breasts. Seemingly, they just don’t let you catch a break. Aside from being heavy and bouncy and literally swaying while you walk (despite your new clothes), they’ve also begun to leak.

You lactate for the first time in front of Bhu’kei, right as he’s about to perform the routine health screen on you. Just as the light flickers over your belly (where the pup had been doing flips as of late) you feel... wet. A dampness made itself very known on your chest, then spread.

“Oh my God!” Bhu’kei’s attention snaps back to you at your incredulous remark, and he is met with the sight of you pinching your nipples between your fingers. Thick droplets of milk still leak past and he notices the trails on your belly. Your face has gone ashen and hot at the same time. Bhu’kei recognizes this as mortification.

“You have started your lactation. This is good.” Bhu’kei states with a swift nod of his head and turns back to your scan. Speaking of good, all of your vitals are also stellar. The pup is stable as well. Bhu’kei is content at this knowledge.

“I’m fucking leaking!” Your voice raises an octave and Bhu’kei watches as you scramble to find a cloth to press to your bosom. When your fingers leave your nipples, a white spray occurs that has you yelping and pinching them again, Bhu’kei clicks in amusement, but you shoot him a withering glare.

“Not. Funny. I can’t go around dripping milk everywhere.” You frown, skin feeling moist and sticky from your milk that’s left trails on your belly. You want to wipe it up, but your fingers can’t leave your nipples. Though... the longer you’re pinching to stop the flow, the more your breasts begin to feel... tight.

More so than usual. Like the pressure’s building. Experimentally, you release one of your sensitive nipples and the torrent of milk is powerful enough to spurt from you like a faucet. Your jaw drops.

Bhu’kei whickers, impressed.

The pressure cedes, and when pinch them again, it begins to grow.

It seems your stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You look to Bhu’kei, and your eyes are pleading. You pout, “What do I do now?”

—

The solution Bhu’kei ultimately recommended was unorthodox. 

Usually, pumping milk would’ve been an affair saved for after the pup was born, but you started lactating and profusely leaking so early on that it needed to be done. Plus, you and Bhu’kei did not want you to risk developing mastitis, which would be just the cherry-on-top to your pregnancy.

The issue was, the Yautja didn’t have any suitable equipment to perform the duty of pumping, so it had to be done manually. At first, you were able to squeeze your breasts rhythmically, draining milk into large glass vials that would be frozen and stored for later, but your hands soon tired.

So, with the help of your mates, you pumped milk.

—

“Bhu’kei! Bhu’kei! Bhu’kei!”

The only word your mouth seems to know is his name. Your pussy throbs with need, clit aching for contact. Bhu’kei is planted firmly behind you, but he won’t concede and fill your dripping core with his cock. Instead, he rests the hot rod between your ass cheeks, teasing you by thrusting lazily.

It’s all so much. You can hardly breathe. His dia-shui is suffocating in the best way possible. Bhu’kei’s hands are working magic on you.

Large paws alternate the respective tit they squeeze, drawing long streams of milk from your chest. He tweaks and pinches the stiff peaks of your nipples like he’s toying with them. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced— Strange, yet natural, yet absolutely dirty.

You hazy mind and glossy eyes focus enough to process that the glass vial is nearly halfway full. The session is far from over. You don’t want it to end.

It’s almost humiliating. You’re being milked like a fucking cow. But you have Bhu’kei, nearly rabid with horniness, all-too-enthusiastically rutting wildly between your thighs as if he’s experiencing his rut. Hell, maybe he is. You might just be tempting enough to speed up the waiting time.

It became apparent very quickly that lactation did not sway any of the hunting brothers from gladly warming your bed. They fought over who got to help you pump, and the winner, often bloody and bruised, would be bolstered enough to claim you in the middle of camp.

You whine and moan, and Bhu’kei finally relents and on the next thrust the tip of his cock catches on your weeping slit then sinks home. You wail with pleasure, eyes rolling back as Bhu’kei stretches you in one fell swoop. You grip his wrists, feeling the tendons beneath your hands work. Milk is drawn from you. Your face is flush with heat, your hair sticks to the nape of your neck and temples, sweat gathers beneath your belly and the junctions where you are propped on a pile of furs.

“Bhu’kei!~” You bay his name like a wounded dog, high pitched and airy, and he starts to thrust with fervor. He snarls and growls, gripping your tits firm, but remembering to perform the job. Bhu’kei won’t admit, but it’s becoming harder and harder to focus on aiding you with pumping when your tight, hot cunt is stretched around his shaft.

Mating you is always like this: Soft, raw, and wet like the humid jungle around you. Bhu’kei doesn’t even consider taking you to his yurt like he did earlier, the low growling and pointed glares of his hunting brothers around him is far too satisfying.

He catches the stare of Ap-tui and purposely gives you a sharp thrust that has you gasping just to spite him. His cousin flares his mandibles, his own dia-shui flooding around him. The same can be said of the others as well, all the Yautja males bristle and pace like ravenous wolves wanting a bite of the ripe flesh before them.

Bhu’kei understands fully. You are beneath him like prey, spread out and whining and quivering... How could anyone not find you tempting?

“Her cunt is sweet. Tight and soft and wet. My cock is blessed.” Bhu’kei teases the hunting party and a chorus of roars and growls lifts the air. You’re too far gone to comprehend it. Bhu’kei slides the blunt of tusks down the side of your cheek, trapping you beneath him. His cock works in tandem with his hands.

“Come for me.” He urges you, whickering into your ear. Tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks. It’s all so much. Bhu’kei draws back, then thrusts and hits the special, spongy part inside your cunt.

You orgasm so hard you pass out.

The pumping session had to come to an end.

—

In general, your pregnancy had relatively few hiccups along the way. Most of the time you and your mates spent preparing for the upcoming birth, stocking enough food to last so that none of them had to leave your side until well after you’d given birth. It was something you wanted, just time with them and your new pup for a little while.

Thus, the days were often long and unexciting. You and your mates either fucked or slept or ate. They would take turns leaving for a couple days to replenish more food. The Yautja would sometimes fight one another for entertainment, and to keep their abilities sharp.

In the waning months of pregnancy, however, something eventful did occur.

You were nearly nine and a half months along when your party received a visitor. A Yautja ship appeared out of the blue, snapping your mates into action. They suited up in full armor, on edge.

Apparently, it’s bad form to intrude on occupied hunting territories without an invitation (which your party never gave) or asking first (which they never did). So when the ship landed, your already peeved Yautja were downright hostile towards whoever was bold enough to invade their space.

Ap-tui was particularly pissed, being the hunt leader and all. You had never seen him that bristly before.

But then the most curious turn of events happened.

The ship's docking bay opened to reveal a very tall, very tough looking, very female Yautja.

—

yautja translations

Chiva →  the trial of which a Youngblood Yautja is Blooded should they succeed in killing a kiande amedha (Xenomorph) c’ntlip → a Yautja alcoholic beverage dia-shui → musk, specifically that of a male lou-dte kale → child maker (derogatory) ooman / oomani-di → human / human female Paya → Yautja creation goddess sain’ja → warrior yin’tekai → honor

[mangekyuou]

Hi there~

I just finished reading your rules and you're a UNI STUDENT? Lmao me too, I'm majoring in English literature 🙃 yeah i know it's an old-man choice 😭 but at least I enjoy it~

So can i request a NSFW alphabet for my boy Benn?

I don't see a lot of content for him and he's sooo sooooo handsomeee and attractive.

I hope you have a nice day~

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  nsfw alphabet  ,  benn beckman.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  nsfw. gn!reader. me being a beckman stan. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸     notes! . . .  hi !! that's so cool you're majoring in english literature !! i was always interested in literature, but i could just never sit down and read or try to analyze anything. it was never my strong suit lol. so kudos to you !! thank you for requesting !! <33

!! i would also like to say that i don't really do nsfw alphabets, but i have made an exception for this one and the other one in my drafts bcuz i didn't state it earlier. PLUS i'm a beckman and shanks stan lmaooo

A — AFTERCARE. [ what they’re like after sex. ]

aftercare is truly his favorite part. he takes his time carefully getting you all cleaned up and comfortable. benn is definitely a cuddlebug :>. he loves cuddling with you after sex. there's nothing better than laying down next to you, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest, kissing your head, and falling into the world of dreams.

B — BODY PART. [ their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s. ]

he hasn't thought much about himself. he doesn't even really have an answer at first. but he thinks his arms are nice. all the more strength to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

benn loves ALL of you. don't ask him to pick a favorite part of you. he refuses to give you one answer, no matter how much you beg him. unless you start to pout, his ultimate weakness. he loves your thighs. he's a thigh and ass guy. nine times out of ten, you know he's in the mood just by how long he's touching your thighs

C — CUM. [ anything to do with cum. ]

he loves filling you to the brim with his cum, watching it slowly leak out of you only to use his thick fingers or his dick to stuff it back inside. all with a "be a good baby and hold it for me, yeah?"

D — DIRTY SECRET. [ self-explanatory. ]

nothing runs through his mind like you in a maid outfit since you wore one as punishment for losing a card game. the red-haired pirates are so damn cruel. the image has never left his head, and along with it came his dirty thoughts

the thought of you bending over to better reach a spot to dust, the short skirt of your tight uniform riding up to show off your ass. the thought of your purposely spilling something on him to get him out of his clothes. the thought of you on your knees in front of him, eagerly awaiting his next command, asking him how you may be of assistance. fuck he needs you in a maid outfit so bad

E — EXPERIENCE. [ how experience are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

benn has been around the block many of times. he has plenty of experience. i wouldn't call him a hoe...but he's had quite a few lovers in the past. mostly one night stands. he knows what he's doing and how to pleasure you

F — FAVORITE POSITION. [ self-explanatory. ]

he's a pretty classic man. he loves the cowgirl(boy) position. there's nothing that makes him cum harder than you riding him to your heart's content. oh and please do wear a cowboy hat, treat him like cattle, call him a few names, he's putty in your hands. when he comes, put your hat over his pretty face

G — GOOFY. [ are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? ]

benn is very talkative in the bedroom. he's always talking, whether it's praising you or his favorite teasing you. hell, there are even some moments where he's so unserious. telling you about some stupid shit that happened on the red force that day, while kissing down your chest. or when he's settled deep inside of you, not moving, and will stop to have a full-on conversation. like what are you doing ??

H — HAIR. [ how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? ]

it's wild and grey. his pubes are a little wavy. he doesn't particularly care much about shaving. now if you ask him to trim up a little, he will definitely do so and will make it a habit

I — INTIMACY. [ how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect? ]

benn is a very romantic man. there is not a single time when he doesn't make you seem like the luckiest person in the world. he puts his ALL into loving and cherishing you. he takes his time with you. worshipping your body from head to toe, not missing an inch. bringing you to your high again and again, singing praises to you, how well you're doing, how much he loves you

J — JACK OFF. [ masturbation headcanon. ]

benn doesn't jack off as much as he did when he was younger. the times when he is in the mood, you are usually not too far and more than happy to help. however for the few times, you aren't around, he's sitting slouched in a chair in your shared room, his hair all over his face, he was anything but his usual calm and collected self. shallow breaths and low whispers of your name leave his lips, as he desperately tries to reach his high, imagining his hand as yours

K — KINK. [ one or more of their kinks. ]

he definitely has a praise kink. even before the two of you got together, you likely picked up on his praise kink. he loves the effect it has on you. role play, he's a freaky old man. as i said earlier, he loves the thought of you in a maid outfit, this definitely extends to other things. sexy secretary, sexy nurse, you name it. HE'S WAY INTO HIS ROLE. especially if you're taking a dominant role ?? WHEW

L — LOCATION. [ favorite places to do it. ]

he's not all that into public sex. does not want anyone else to see you, other than that one time. he prefers to keep your sexy times in the bedroom. nothing beats your bed

M — MOTIVATION. [ what turns them on, gets them going? ]

it doesn't take much to get him going. you could just wrap your arms around his waist from behind, and kiss up his shoulder, and he's all yours for the evening. or when you smack his ass and run down the hall. he swears he hates it, but who is he kidding? when he does catch up to you, you're in for it

N — NO. [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs. ]

anything that could possibly hurt you. nope. never. nada. zilch. he can't do it. he couldn't do humiliation either. anything that is not making you feel amazing and beautiful, he's not doing

O — ORAL. [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc. ]

definitely a giver and is the fucking best at it. he prides himself on his ability to make you cum multiple times with his mouth alone. he could spend hours between your legs if you'd let him. hooking his strong arms around your legs, you're not going anywhere until he's had his fill. but you'll be a good baby and take it, won't you?

running your hands through his grey locks only encourages him further. your moans and breaths are a melody he'd never get tired of hearing

he does love seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. he loves when you take your time, licking up a stride up his shaft, the tip of your tongue circling the blushing red head of his tip, before slowly taking him into your mouth. eye contact the entire time !! he loves that shit

P — PACE. [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

benn is definitely more on the slow and sensual side. he wants you to feel him, every inch of him enter you as he fills you to the brim every time he thrusts into you. and he wants to feel all of you, as he closes his eyes and stuffs his face into your shoulder, alternating between leaving open-mouth kisses and love bites

Q — QUICKIE. [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

he's not a quickie guy. maybe when he was younger but quickies don't satisfy him anymore. it doesn't give him the chance to fuck you properly

R — RISK. [ are they game to experiment, do they take the risks, etc. ]

he'll experiment for you. he'll willing to try some things at least once if you'd like to try them. however, it's not likely to suggest something. he knows what he likes and what he doesn't, he's not sure that's really going to change at this point

S — STAMINA. [ how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? ]

benn can go for a few rounds, which are not usually his plan. he usually plans for one long round. but the cuddle session after the first round a lot of the time turns into another around. he's not complaining though. give him a little smoke break and he's back at it

T — TOY. [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

he doesn't have a problem with toys, he just doesn't really use them. he prefers using his own equipment if you catch my drift. but he definitely doesn't mind using them on you if you asked

U — UNFAIR. [ how much they like to tease? ]

now he doesn't see it as teasing. but it's definitely teasing. his teasing is very playful. the way he just walks up to you at the poker table and whispers what he's going to do to you tonight if you win...and he expects you to sit there and be calm. you better win.

or when you sit in his lap and his large calloused hands caress your thighs, inching closer and closer to your core. he notices the way you take in a sharp breath, only to stop touching you altogether. he knows exactly what he's doing and what effect he has on you

V — VOLUME. [ how loud they are, what sounds they make. ]

benn is not quiet by any means. he's very talkative in the bedroom. always teasing you or giving you praise. he is an occasional groaner. groaning your name and swears into your ear

W — WILD CARD. [ random headcanon. ]

shanks has definitely watched you and benn fuck before. it was one time and it'll never happen again. now the captain of the red haired pirates did nothing wrong, at first. the next day, roo had asked shanks where he disappeared off to and he made a joke saying "watching the taming of a stubborn bull", earning a laugh from you. he is no longer allowed to watch

X — X-RAY. [ what’s going on under those clothes. ]

listen to me and listen to me well. definitely a shower, not a grower. 7-8 inches, slightly curved to the right and upwards. uncut. above average girth. a few veins, but there's one very prominent long vein that stretches from the underside of his dick all the way around to the top. slightly darker than the rest of his body BUT there are lighter patches of skin on and around his tip

Y — YEARNING. [ how high is their sex drive? ]

don't really see his drive being that high. definitely lower than average. but hey, he's not gonna say no to some sweet lovemaking.

Z — ZZZ. [ how quickly they fall asleep afterwards? ]

aftercare is literally his favorite part, so you bet it's going to be a while before he actually falls asleep. he has to get you all cleaned up and comfortable. finally, he pulls you in for cuddles. he waits until you're asleep before falling asleep himself

© MANGEKYUOU  —  do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Finale

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also.It's just colors and vibes here. It's been a chaotic journey, but it finally ends today, most likely with a character death, so . . .

Disclaimer: I'm just screaming this entire post.

Surprising absolutely no one, Barbara immediately forgave Charles. Like I wrote last week, I'll hold this grudge for both of us, Babe.

If this bastard is still alive by the end of this, there is no justice in the world.

Did he just give them a key to get out? They could just walk through a door, but . . . I'll take it. Kentana is trying to redeem himself. Now, KILL YOUR SHITTY FATHER, and you will earn the top place in my heart.

Don't do it, Way Way. Don't. I see you eyeing that man, but you will take zero bullets for Pete or Babe. Am I clear?! NONE! I don't care if you are wearing white compared to everyone else's black. You will not die. No.

I'm not even going to say shit about these two's colors because BIG RED JUST KILLED A KID!

OH FUCK! HE IS KILLING EVERYONE!

KIMBERLY! I LOVE YOU!

And this is why you deserve to die. Who does something like this? It's not a porn, sir. This is a murder. You're about to die. Not get laid.

WAYMOND, NO! I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING DO THIS! NOOOOOOOOOO!

I know it's blood, but the 'smoke' being red too is great and I need more of it as BIG RED DIES FOR KILLING WAY WAY!

Y'all are letting Big Red talk too much while Way Way is just bleeding out on the floor, and I just need one of y'all to apply pressure to the wound so Way has a fighting chance. Please for the love of God. PLEASE! LET WAY LIVE!

Oh, shit, this is awful. Do NOT think about any good memories with this man who wore red in the past but no longer does for some wacky reason. Those memories are all tainted. He is awful. KILL HIM ALREADY AND GET WAY WAY TO THE HOSPITAL!

I HATE HIM! Barbara, don't you trade your life for Charles. Don't fucking do it. Charles came back from the dead once. He can do it again. KILL BIG RED ALREADY!

OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES! I LOVE KENTA! KILL HIM!

YOU KILLED YOUR SHITTY FATHER! YOU'VE DONE WHAT NO OTHER BL BOY HAS EVER DONE!

YOU WON MY HEART!

Now, someone go hug him! Pete what the fuck are you doing?! One boyfriend is dying and another is breaking down. DO SOMETHING, PETER!

I knew this was going to happen! I knew Way was gonna die taking a bullet for Babe. I knew it, and I'm still upset! WHY?! Why can't Peter have TWO boyfriends?! Why do we always have to kill someone to redeem them and to cancel them out of the poly plot equation. LET POLY HAPPEN!

Fuck, Alan is crying.

FUCK!

I will not be pacified with Jeffrey finally being consumed by blue. I'm still very upset about Way Way having to die instead of Peter just having two boyfriends.

Vegas' Hedgehog, I'm so over your ass! Red flowers?! At Way's funeral?! That is sooooo rude! What is wrong with you?! Read the room, you pretty bitch! RED IS OUT! Way died for the blue! THE BLUE!

I hate this necklace. I hate that Way is dead instead of being taken care of by his two boyfriends. Where the hell is Ken anyway?! Why is he not holding Peter's hand right now? WHAT IS THIS LIE?!

I trust your dad, Barbie, because he is wearing blue, but you have had to cry a thousand tears this episodes, and I pray like GMMTV's First, you stay hydrated because crying can wreck havoc on a thirsty body.

Y'all cannot fuck the grief away in the blue. You can try, but Waymond is still gonna be dead instead of having two boyfriends. This is a real problem, and I want it addressed. RIGHT NOW!

KIMBERLY! YOU'RE BLUE NOW!

Everyone is in blue, and then we have Vegas' fucking Hedgehog in those damn orange pants, and . . . AHHHHHHH *starts throwing clothes around the room and out the window*

Barbie is lighter. He is still black, but now he has the white mixed with it while he looks longingly into the eyes of his Blue Boy (who lied to him several times including lying about his death, pero I'll carry this grudge for both of us, Barbara)

Now why the fuck are you wearing red, Alan?! Why won't this show just let me have nice things?!

So . . . now that this is all over and I, unsurprisingly, did NOT get poly nor Kenta x Pete, I will be unblocking the tags because seeing black boxes on my dash is driving me crazy, and I need to reblog some GIFs of Kimberly, Alan, and Waymond x Peter x Kentana to fill this huge void in my heart where a poly plot would have perfectly fit.

I will never go back and watch this show with subs. Never. Whatever I got from it was exactly what I needed to get from it, and I need nothing else. Because what I got was a boy FINALLY deciding to

KILL HIS SHITTY FATHER

Kenta, you deserve my respect. You loved Pete. You helped all the guys in your own way. You killed your shitty dad. You committed queer wrongs, and I forgive every single one of them. You deserve a happy life, and I hope you are laying in Pete's bed with his arms around you thinking about what y'all will have for breakfast, so he can read your mind and go make it for you.

I like you.

I respect you.

I love you.

And so does Pete.

GIVE ME POLY, DAMN IT!