#I was going to try to go to sleep hours ago

[himbodruid]

Crying Wolf

My take on the 105 affinity Secret Times audio 😏

Intended for 18+ readers ONLY. MINORS DNI

Sylus x Reader/You

Breeding kink (probably)-:- marking -:- possessive sex -:- soft sex -:- consent is hot -:- aftercare

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The soft plinking sounds of the silly game you were playing echoed in the otherwise vacant room. You’d awoken from disturbing dreams in your own bed at the base, and snuck into Sylus’s room. And now you were curled up on his bed and clutching one of his pillows to your chest. He wasn’t home yet and it was a day off for you, but you figured he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his space.

“What are you playing?”

His voice suddenly appearing right next to your ear startled you and made you jump. Your hand struck out on instinct, which he caught with a chuckle before it could connect with his face.

“Shit, Sylus, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Are you trying to scare me?” You settled back down, trying to calm your adrenaline.

“Am I trying to scare you? You’re overthinking it, love.” He chuckled again at your pout.

“Still rude to sneak up on people like that.”

“Meanwhile, Miss Hunter didn’t even notice me when I was this close.” He leaned in, sending your pulse racing again for a different reason. “Your lack of vigilance is worryin-“

With a scowl, you slapped your hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing that sentence. He was right, but you wouldn’t willingly admit it. Could he hardly blame you for feeling safe in his space?

You felt him smile under your hand for a brief moment, before he pulled it away from his mouth and flashed you that devilish half smirk of his. “You’re that eager to shut me up? Oh, you’re gonna need more than just your hands, Kitten.”

The tension that had built in those few seconds was interrupted by the sound of your game ending. Your phone was still in your other hand, but it had been all but forgotten when you got lost in Sylus’s predatory gaze.

“Oops, guess you lost,” he rumbled without breaking eye contact with you. Amusement twinkled in his eye. “Sorry for interrupting your game.”

You cleared your throat and looked away from him. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, with just a simple look from those cat-like crimson eyes of his. You made to return to your game and start again.

“But I remember an hour ago, someone promised to go to bed early starting today.”

“Oh, so you did see my text,” you muttered under your breath. He pretended not to hear you though.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” The smile in his voice made you want to reach out and punch him. Instead, you reined in the impulse and restarted the game.

“I haven’t forgotten. This is a sleep aid game,” you said with a huff, pointedly ignoring his presence now.

“You…play a game to help you fall asleep. This is the first time I’ve heard of it.” He made a noise of suspicion and leaned in again. “Looks like someone’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and scooted over on his bed. He rose from the chair he’d been occupying and sat next to you at your beckoning, and raised a brow when you handed him your phone with a freshly started game.

“Why are you giving it to me? I’m not into these little games.” He said gruffly.

“Just try it,” you say. “I’m trying to prove my innocence here.”

With a chuckle, he accepted your phone. “Alright, we can do that. Scoot over.”

You shifted over some more, placing the pillow you’d been cuddling back against the headboard. He stretched out languidly beside you, resting against the pillow you’d just placed, and held out an arm to you.

“Come here, rest your head on my arm,” he commanded softly. You smiled and laid beside him, where his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and immediately his hand began tracing soft patterns against your arm.

“Now then. Shall we get started?” You explained basic concepts of the game to him and showed him what to do, trying not to zero in your focus on his deft fingers lazily brushing your skin. After three sheep appeared on screen, Sylus paused.

“So the whole point of this game is to count sheep?”

“I mean, I tried to tell you it was a sleep aid game, but you didn’t believe me,” you laughed. He smirked back.

“Well, it is boring enough to make anyone fall asleep.”

With a playful punch to his chest, you took up your phone again and continued playing. You were trying hard not to focus on all the points where your bodies touched, trying to cool the heat that was slowly settling into you as he continued to trail his hand on you. You were trying not to lose yourself in the smoky spice scent of him. You were pretty sure he could feel your racing heartbeat, maybe even hear it, so you threw your focus into the game and tried hard to ignore how much you wanted to straddle him at that moment.

“Hmm…how many have we counted?” His voice was rough, like he was distracted. It took all of your effort not to squirm against him.

“You’d know if you’d stay focused,” you replied, thankful that your voice was steady. You were entirely too conscious of the fact that his shirt was stretched taut across his chest, and the sleep pants were slung low enough on his hips you could almost see his v-line.

“It’s not that I’m unfocused. Your hair is tickling my neck,” he rumbled. You scowled at him again.

“Seriously?” Was all you could think to say. He chuckled.

“Yes, it tickles. Only a little, though. Do you need me to help you tame this unruly hair of yours?”

Before you could give him an answer, his hand reached up and brushed strands of hair away from your face. His palm lingered on your cheek for the briefest of moments before moving down your neck. The action in no way removed your hair from his vicinity, but his focus was solely on you in that moment. Your breath hitched as his palm traveled further and then flattened against your collar bone. His eyes followed the contour of your neck before resting on the dainty necklace that rested in the hollow of your throat. You could see hunger ignite in his eyes when he saw it.

“Hmmh. Isn’t this the collarbone necklace I gave you?” He murmured while fingering the pendant. “My taste is pretty good, I guess.”

“Yes,” you say almost dumbly. “I love it.”

“It is very pretty,” he murmured, leaning over you. You couldn’t tell if he meant the necklace or your neck as he buried his face there. You thought you could feel his lips ghosting over your skin and the soft gasp that escaped you was nearly involuntary.

“S-Sylus, what are you doing?” You questioned, hating how breathless your voice was. He took a moment before replying, not bothering to pull himself away from you.

“Nothing. I just thought,” he said, punctuating with a soft kiss to your collarbone, “this spot was very enticing.”

His mouth descended onto your collarbone once more, a full open-mouth kiss that you couldn’t hold back your gasp at. Teeth scraped against your skin and then he latched onto you in such a way that you knew would leave a mark. It hurt at first, the aggressive pull of his mouth, but then there was a zing of rapture that flowed through you when he released you. His breath tickled across your now-damp skin and you shivered.

“It tastes just as I imagined it to be,” he murmured. “I wonder what this will taste like.”

Sylus moved to the opposite side of your collarbone now, his hand cradling your head while he gave the same treatment to that side. You tried your hardest to calm your thundering heart, to quell the heat that raced through you, to soothe the blush that spread mercilessly from your face to your now nearly exposed chest. You felt embarrassed at how quickly and easily he was able to turn you on. The sounds of the game came back to you and you desperately tried to return your attention to it. This didn’t escape Sylus’s notice.

“What? How many sheep are there now?” He nuzzled into your neck. “You’re still concerned about them? Looks like I haven’t gotten your undivided attention yet.”

“S-Sy,” you started, unable to find words when your breath came short.

“I don’t like you being so far away from me,” he growled before rolling his bulk atop you. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, the game forgotten now. “Come closer, let’s cuddle.”

You knew your face was aflame as he leaned down to nuzzle and kiss your neck. In a desperate bid to escape embarrassment, you mutter the lamest excuse you could. “B-but Sylus, it’s too warm.”

“To be honest,” a kiss on your neck, full of tongue, interrupted his thought, “it…can get even warmer. Than. This.”

His mouth found yours then, and he coaxed you open to him so that his tongue could plunge in and tangle with yours. You inhaled sharply, unable to keep your hands from him any longer. You kissed him back in equal fervor, not entirely ignorant to the hard length of him resting against your belly. Your hands combed through his silk-soft hair, all but holding him to you.

A sudden plink from your discarded phone brought you back to your senses. You were kissing Sylus. The two of you had been intimate in other ways, but nothing nearly as far as this yet. Holding hands, quick pecks on the cheek, chaste kisses here and there. But nothing so all-consuming, so passionate.

“Hmm? Oh. We lost,” rumbled Sylus against your lips. You turned your head and looked at your phone.

“Hmm. Looks like a wolf snuck in because you weren’t focused on our sheep,” you admonished lightly.

“Yeah. All of them were eaten,” Sylus replied with a smug smirk. He returned to burying his face against your neck. “How do you think those sheep were eaten? Like…this?”

He raked his teeth against the slope of your neck. You didn’t even have the mind to feel embarrassed about the moan that slipped from you.

“Or…like this?” His lips moved to the other side. A heavy, charged sigh escaped from him as he all but worshipped your neck. Kisses, bites, even rolling his tongue against your pulse. You were unravelling beneath him, and then his hand had the audacity to add to the sensations by running down the length of you. Your breaths came in short gasps and you longed to completely wrap yourself around him.

“I take back what I said about the game. It does have some redeeming qualities.”

The comment was so sudden, you couldn’t muster a response. All you could do was watch him with eyes half-lidded by desire while he elaborated.

“For instance, it is very realistic.” He gave another one of those heated sighs, followed by a soft growl while his hand continued to roam your body. You were fully aware now of his cock resting heavy against you, still held by the prison of his sleep pants. Somewhere he had wedged a knee between your own and was slowly sliding his way fully between your thighs. You could feel the heat blazing in your face and looked away from his assessing and possessive gaze.

It just happened that your attention fell back to your phone.

“Where are your eyes going? Honestly, I don’t think you need to get your phone back.”

You looked back to him, and he hiked your leg up to hook around his hip. The length of him was now pressed against your core, hot and hard.

“If you need a sleep aid, then I can fulfill that role.”

You felt like your brain was going to short circuit. Out of a desperate attempt to hide your madly blushing face, you covered it with the comforter.

“A sheep can’t escape if it’s trapped under the covers,” he said, tugging them away. “So, is this little lamb prepared?”

Another moan escaped you unbidden as he pressed his hips into yours.

“A wolf is coming,” he growled into your ear.

Fuck, I sure hope he will, you thought.

His mouth found yours again, and his roaming hand slipped underneath the cotton tank top you were wearing. Like electricity on your skin, his touch sent shivers through you. His thumb found your breast first, and then the rest of his hand engulfed the mound of flesh. You couldn’t help but arch into his touch, releasing pleased gasps into his fierce kiss.

Next thing you knew, your shirt was pushed up above your breasts and his hot mouth moved to teasing them. His tongue swirled around the nipple of one, while his hand continued kneading the other.

“S-Sylus,” you moaned with a shuddering breath. His teeth scraped against the underside and your hands dug into his scalp at the sensation. Your back bowed, arching firmly into his touch until his mouth moved further down. A blazing trail of kisses and bites all the way down your torso until he came to the hem of your shorts. All the while he kept his crimson gaze locked on your face, thoroughly enjoying the reactions he elicited from you.

He tugged at the hem, offering a silent question to you and going no further until you nodded your consent and lifted your hips for him. He stripped shorts and underwear away in one swift motion, and suddenly you were bared so intimately, so lewdly for him. You tried to pin your knees together, but he was already there, mouth at your hip and drawing out a mark to match the ones on your collarbone.

“I think,” he said, detaching from your skin, “I might enjoy seeing my marks on you a little too much.”

Your gaze landed on the bruise-like mark he left on your hip and you had to agree with him. Something about seeing his smirking mouth hovering there and a hickey darkening was just absurdly hot.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, covering your face with an arm. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Sylus.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled. “If you permit me, I can easily give you a little death, as a treat.”

Somehow your face flamed hotter at his innuendo. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, as you felt his thumb brushing through the soft fringe at your core.

“Mmh,” he growled. “So wet for me already, Kitten.”

And then his tongue followed the touch, and you were lost. A moan escaped from you, your hands flying to tangle once again in his hair. If he hated that you were messing up said hair, he didn’t say a word. In fact, the action seemed to provoke him further and he soon added fingers curling into your cunt. He worked you hard until you spilled over the edge with his name falling from your lips like a chant.

He crawled back up your body, planting a soft kiss before pulling away. He caressed your cheek while he gave you the tenderest of looks. It appeared he wanted to say something, but held himself back. Instead, he opted to lean forward and kiss your forehead.

And then the infuriating man tugged the comforter over you and made to leave.

“Wait, what?” You panicked and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“It’s late, Kitten, and you need to sleep.”

“No! I-“ your words were cut off by his chuckle.

“As much as I want to, Kitten, I hadn’t really prepared for sex. I don’t have any protection.”

You eased your shoulders, secretly relieved that he wasn’t rejecting you per se.

“That’s simple, though,” you say, swinging your arm wide and showing him the tiniest of protrusions on the inner side of your arm. “The Association pays for all of us to get temporarily sterilized. Those of us that want it, anyway. It lasts for five years, and I got it put in a few months ago because-“

You cut your words off, completely aware that you were rambling and embarrassing yourself further. You looked away, hating how desperate you sounded. But it was true, after being with Sylus and getting to know him, you wanted to prepare for a ‘just in case’ kinda situation just like this one. When he didn’t move or respond, you began shuffling yourself back under the duvet in awkward self-consciousness.

His hand shot out to stop you, though. “I truly don’t deserve you.”

With that, you were stripped bare before him once again. The duvet was discarded, and his crimson gaze followed every curve and edge of your body. It was like he was trying to memorize the picture of you naked in his bed.

“So damn beautiful,” he growled before falling upon you once again. His kisses were needy and hungry, working to quickly reignite your every sense. Your hands worked to slide his own shirt from his body, discarding it alongside your own clothing. The valleys of his abs called to you and you were unable to resist touching. Your fingers traveled the dips and rise of his torso, earning you panting groans from him. Testing, you allowed one hand to go even further downward. When he didn’t stop you at the hem of his pants, boldness overtook you and you grasped at the prominent bulge over the fabric.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward of their own volition. He let his head fall against your chest with rough kisses while you pressed and kneaded the length of him in wonder. He was very clearly a large man as he all but dwarfed your petite frame underneath him, but down there he was also exceptionally large.

“How in the world is this supposed to fit,” you wondered aloud while still stroking him. He chuckled darkly in your ear, rolling his hips into your touch.

“Why don’t we find out, Kitten.”

His mouth engulfed yours again while he worked to strip the pants from his body. His tongue swept into your mouth, undulating in a way that suggested he was about to do that to you with his cock. Finally his hips nestled between your thighs, and you could feel how big he was resting against your body. You opened as wide as you could for him while his hips continued rolling forward and back. While not penetrating, his cock still dragged deliciously against your folds, urging your heart to pick up pace in anticipation.

And then, gods, the moment he pierced you, you wanted to cum. His movement was infuriatingly slow as he allowed you time to become accustomed to his girth first, and then his length last. You let your head fall back into his pillows, his name tumbling from you as you clung to him desperately.

And then he stilled, though you could tell by his shaking that it took all of his effort to hold back.

“Fuck, you feel so good on me, Kitten,” he whined. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, ensuring that he couldn’t suddenly change his mind and pull away from you in that moment.

A slight tilt of your hips and a clenching of your walls, and he nearly collapsed atop you at the forceful pleasure that rocketed up his spine. His moan was deep, guttural, and damn near feral. It only goaded you into shifting your hips again to rattle him further. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and fuck the feel of him slamming so impossibly deep into you was almost enough to throw you over the edge.

“Sylus, please,” you whimpered to him. His gaze found yours and locked on as he so slowly pulled himself out, right to the tip. And then his hips rocketed forward and the force of him slamming into you all but ripped his name from you as a scream.

From there, the frenzied coupling reached a crescendo so quickly that neither of you were prepared for the full force of pleasure that toppled you over the edge. His cock was buried in you and responded in kind when your walls fluttered and milked him. You took every last bit he had to offer, and still he wasn’t done with you.

He shifted your legs so that the backs of your knees rested in his elbows, and he all but folded you in half while he pistoned into you. All you could do was cling to him, crying out in the pleasure he ripped so vehemently from you. The new position let him fuck into you even deeper somehow, and gods the way his cock dragged against your inner walls.

And the sounds he made only added fuel to the fire. Grunting moans, harsh whispers of praise, guttural growls. All of them possessed you, making you respond to him in kind between other cries of pleasure. His name became like a prayer with the frequency it tumbled from your lips, and gods when he growled out your name you were gone.

Climax swept through both of you again swiftly, more hot ropes of cum flooding you only to be used as lubricant while he continued to pound into you.

Three times he brought you over the edge and he jumped alongside you. Three times before he finally released your cramping legs and let them rest back around his hips. More marks dotted your body, and you added your own collection to his neck and chest.

Three times your body milked his, and yet he was still so impossibly hard inside you. You would be surprised if you weren’t leaking his cum for days after this.

“Fuck, Kitten, you feel so damn good. I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop fucking you,” he growled.

The pace of his thrusts slowed in reverent worship of your body. You could feel him more fully than the rapid driving of the last three rounds. You could feel how the scooped edge of the head caught and dragged along your walls, tugging and pushing electric shocks of pleasure that coursed through you. And gods the hard push of his hips when he buried fully to the hilt, the feel of his sac compressing against the slick of your combined cum. The sticky feel of it all when he pulls away with the obscene sounds echoing in the room with your twinned heavy breathing. The slow ascent of your pleasure was near infuriating, but you knew that the fall would be much sweeter, more intense.

“This is how I originally wanted to take you,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed the two marks on opposite ends of your collarbone. “But you feel too damn good, I couldn’t control myself.”

You could only respond with a moan as his cock continued to brush against that sweet spot inside you. Your legs slid up his body to bracket his torso, the slight shift just enough to give him even further access.

“Sylus, you feel so fucking good,” you whimpered to him, your nails digging into his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. He was doing that a lot, almost as if he was trying to absorb the scent of you.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Take me.”

“Come with me, Kitten.”

At his words and a final hard thrust of his hips, you shattered beneath him. Your body arched off the bed, limbs jerking with your head thrown back into the pillows. His name echoed into the room from your pleasured screams. This climax was the most intense one you’ve ever had, threatening your consciousness with black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. It was like Sylus had lit your entire body on fire with electricity. It crackled through you, your body’s convulsing no longer yours to control as you just tried to continue to cling to him.

You could feel his own orgasm steamroll through him as well. His hips jerked erratically as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you. His moans in your ear were punctuated by panting breaths and guttural growls. His sac grew taut and then he was spilling into you once more. He experienced full body trembling, quivering, spasming, and his desperate moans filled the room with yours.

His cock finally seemed to be through and he slipped from you. He left the bed without a word, coming back seconds later from the bathroom with a warm rag to help clean you up and a cool glass of water that you chugged. You were embarrassed but grateful at his care- though it was almost for naught as the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in the shower. It seemed like there would be a never ending stream of cum flowing from your cunt with how many times he couldn’t resist burying himself in you.

After several more rounds in various positions, you were finally tucked against him and nodding off to the sleep you should have had at least six hours ago.

__

When you finally did wake, Sylus had stepped out with instructions to the twins to bring you breakfast and whatever else you wanted. Unfortunately for you, Sylus didn’t think about any kind of implications when he directed them to his room instead of your own. To make matters worse, you were bundled in his blankets, looking like you were still exhausted from a night of little to no sleep due to Sylus’s bullshit stamina.

The twins, though, were so obnoxiously delighted by the news that you “finally slept with the boss” that they kept trying to high five you whilst you were trying to fight them away out of embarrassment.

You got no peace that night or day, but it didn’t stop the contented grin that planted itself on your face.

[xnalux]

streamergf!vi hcs

part 1

warnings: none, fem!reader

pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine

streamergfvi: before your relationship was oficcially out she made sure to always post pics on her ig to hint she was clearly taken.

@/vistandsforviolence: sucks to be you ;)

@sevikunt: the girl is a paid actor

@vistansforviolence: go suck a dick

but after she actually announced her relationship to her community she made sure to floods her socials with pictures of you two together she took on past dates or just candind pictures of you (she totally made an album titled ''baby'' the first time she met you in person where she kept all the pictures she ever took of you). Everytime she snatch a picture of you, she usually does it when you are in the worst conditions ever, and you ask her to delete it she just pouts at you.

''but you look so cute baby''

In the end she never deletes the picture.

streamergfvi: who plays on streams every indie games you recommend to her. Her followers are sick of it because she always ends up never sticking to her streaming schedule.

''All right guys, i know we were supposed to play resident evil tonight but...''

and the chat goes wild

@/piltegoth: dude not again

@/chadjayce: you are such a loser for pussy is embarassing

@/Ekk0: weakest butch on the internet tbh

streamergfvi: who when she is not streaming she's probably lost tinkering with some gadget or tech. you find her, more often tha not, in her room cross legged on the floor, hands stained with grease and a look of intense focus on her face that's utterly adorable. She doesn’t ever notice you till you stand right in front of her frame hovering over a half opened computer (yes she totally works on the floor).

''babe?''

she raises her head and her eyes totally brighten seeing you in front of her

''baby you're earlier you were supposed to be here at...''

she takes a look at the her wrist clock face (she wears a clock, it's hot) realising you are definitely not early and she totally lost track of time again.

''shit i'm sorry, the little shit was acting up again and…i'll quickly get ready for our date...''

she ramble getting up and you totally don't give a shit that she is late because her hands are covered in grease, and her muscles are in full view, little droplets of sweat glistening her skin, you thanks whoever invented tank top.

she shuts up only when you surprise her with a kiss, her hands comiung up to grab your waist as she pulls you closer to kiss you back.

''what was that for?''

she smirks at you when you pull away a little breathless. your arms around her neck.

''you look hot''

you just smile at her

''oh you think i'm hot all sweaty and covered in grease?’'

she teases you pulling you closer to her by your waist, one of her hand coming up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.

''you are gonna get my hair all greasy''

you giggle trying to get out of her grip. It usually ends up with her throwig you on her bed tickling you as you try to block her hands.

''just wait till i wash my hands''

streamergfvi: who has undiagnosed adhd and sometimes when you sleep over she wakes you up in the middle of the night still high on one too many energy drinks because she played a new game during her stream and literally can't wait till morning to show it to you. the only light in the room the one coming from her computer still on on her desk even tho she turned off her stream half an hour ago.

''baby are u asleep?''

You blink the sleep from your eyes and look at her, the picture of confusion and endearment. "What?"

"You've gotta see this! It's like someone took everything I love about games and put it into one amazing package!" she continues, her words tumbling over each other like a rock slide

''love it's 3am''

she gently grabs your wrist to pull you from the sweet cocoon of her bed

"I know pretty, but I just beat the first boss and I can't wait for you to see it!''

you end up cuddled in her lap on her gaming chair as she dives into the game rambling about all the cool stuffs you can do.

streamergfvi: who whenever she's got a new game that allows character customization makes sure to create a second one that looks like you. And it doesn't matter if she is on stream and her chat nags her to hurry the fuck up and just play the fucking game.

@/piltiesniperc: it's been 20 minutes

@/getjinxed: dude it literally looks just like her wtf

@/vistandsforvirgin: start the fucking game and stop being so gay

''just... almost done the lips are bugging me''

streamergfvi: who lets you put all kinds of stickers on her gaming set up and bought matching joystick and matching keychains and matching t-shirt. She literally loves matching shit.

streamergfvi: who thinks it's a good idea to let you cut her hair on stream. you stand there while she waves a pair of cooking scissors in front of the camera because ''scissors are scissors, they are gonna work just fine''.

''hello guys, today my pretty girlfriend is gonna cut my hair''

that's how you end up improvising yourself as an hair-stylist, almost poking one of her eyes out in the process because she can't sit still.

@/piltiesniperc: this is not what a meant when i said i liked lesbians scissoring

@/Ekk0: this is priceless

@/viktorious: omg i love when lesbians:

vi looks at herself in the camera moving her face from side to side, you definitely cut them shorter than expected and it's clear the haircut is uneven.

@/getjinxed: shit you look like a wet racoon, i need to see this irl

@/sevikunt: dumbest butch on the internet

as powder storms in vi room your eyes lingers on vi face and you just ask yourself how is it possible she looks even hotter than before.

''a wet racoon?''

vi asks offendend turning her gaming chair towards powder, who get closer to vi’s face with a little bounce in her walk and flashes her with her phone camera

''omg i need to show vander, you look ridicolous''

vi pouts turning to you

''do I really look like a wet racoon?''

and you can't help but giggle as you pull her from the back of her neck in a little kiss before whispering something in her ear, something that makes her cheeks flush and her lips curl upwards in a little smirks as she get up from her seat lifting you by your waist to get the both of you out of frame. The sounds of kisses and gigglies filling the room as powder quickly get in front of the camera.

''disgusting''

powder groan as she turn off the stream and sprint out of vi's room.

streamergfvi: who comes up with the most random questions. one minute, she'll ask about the plot of a game you’ve played a hundred times; the next, she'll muse on the theoretical physics of a game's universe. Her curiosity knows no bounds, and she's not afraid to dive deep into the rabbit hole of "what ifs" and "but whys" that often lead to the most entertaining conversations.

"Hey babe, do you think aliens would be into streaming games? What do you think their internet setup would look like?"

"If I started a podcast about the history of pencils, would you be my first listener?"

"What would happen if we tried to stream underwater?''

"Do you think I can teach myself to play the guitar while I'm streaming? It'll be fine, I've watched like three YouTube tutorials already."

''would you still love me if i had a third boob in the middle of my forehead?''

and the list could go on forever

streamergfvi: who hates being sick because she needs to stay put and just rest and she hates that but she kinda likes having you as her personal nurse. she wraps you both in a burrito of blankets, her hot skin flushing against yours as she tries to warm up her hands under your shirt.

''I'm gonna die''

she groans in the crook of your neck, her voice gruff due to her aching throat. you pepper small kisses over her head holding her close.

''your temperature is 37.7 baby, you are not gonna die''

you giggle endeared by your girlfriend anticts. she rases her head from your neck and look you dead serious in the eyes.

''i think i'm having auditory hallucinations''

she says and you know she is gonna say something stupid but you can't help yourself from asking anyway

''oh yeah? and what are they telling you?''

she smile playful at you, her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed because of her fever

''that my only chance of surviving this is hide myself between your tits''

and she tucks her head under your shirt as you burst in a fit of giggles.

streamergfvi: who when you are the one sick drops everything she is doing to come to your house. A bag fulls of medicines and your favorites things which include your fav hoodie of hers because she knows it gives you comfort to wear it. she makes sure you are wrapped in as many blankets as she can finds before going to cook you soup and ends up spoon-feeding you while you watch the office.

''just another one pretty, you are doing so good''

she peppers your face with kissed even tho you remind her she is gonna get sick too

''i don't care, just pass all your sickness to me so you can get well''

and brush your teeth after you've thrown up before drawing you a bath and gently massages you shoulders.

streamergfvi: who’s love language is physical touch. And it's not just about the typical cuddling and kissing.

For her, it's about the little things that often go unnoticed, the constant reassurances of presence and connection.

when she's in the middle of a gaming marathon and you are sitting next to her, her love manifests in a gentle head pat, a playful nudge.

the way she always plays with your hair while you're watching a movie, or the constant need to have some part of her body touching yours while you both lay in bed.

And oh, the way she holds you. It's like she's trying to contain a tornado in her arms, strong, yet gentle.

Her love is the way she squeezes your hand tightly during a suspenseful moment in a game stream, transferring her excitement directly to you.

It's the gentle touch of her fingers tracing patterns on your skin when she's lost in thought, or the firm grip of her hand on your thigh when she's trying to focus and needs you as her grounding force.

It's the subtle brush of her hand against your leg while you sit side by side, the way she grabs yours during a particularly intense plot twist in your favorite show, and the warm pressure of her fingers on your back as she guides you through a crowded room. It's the way she kisses you goodbye, like she's trying to leave a piece of herself behind to keep you company until she returns.

Her love is a bit like her streaming setup, a little messy, a bit haphazard but genuine and raw and you wouldn't have it any other way.

an: I had so much fun writing this so let me know if you would like a part 3. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and interact with the part one, i got surprised by all the attention it got <3

I took inspiration from this beautiful art piece for the hair-cut part so credits to @ClaraDeArte on twitter

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[blazehedgehog]

For the last 10-15 years I fall asleep listening to music, but following my mom dying in 2022, the intrusive thoughts were so loud and so difficult to ignore that just listening to music wouldn't cut it. So I started trying to listen to podcasts, but I was used to having the music on so softly it was barely audible, since I'm also a pretty light sleeper. So listening to a podcast at that level with speakers near my bed was tricky.

Until I caught a head cold about a year and a half ago and happened to fall asleep in bed with my headphones on. That turned into one of the most restful sleeps I'd had in months if not years. So I started trying to engineer a situation where I could sleep with headphones on, and ultimately ended up breaking two pairs of headphones as a result.

So... last christmas I ordered one of these.

It's a sleep mask with ultra-thin bluetooth headphones built in. If you're a side sleeper it's not always super comfortable on your ears, but it's better than destroying a $45 pair of headphones because the rigid plastic wasn't meant to bend that way.

So the long and short answer to the poll is that I listen to podcasts on Youtube while I fall asleep now. Phone is plugged in, charging, and I have the developer mode option enabled that doesn't let the phone go to sleep as long as it's plugged in (because Youtube will pause playback if the device goes to sleep). I also put it into do-not-disturb mode because the eyemask will receive notification sounds and I don't want to get those piped directly into my ears when I sleep.

And it helps! It helps a lot. I generally fall asleep faster now than I used to, in some aspects.

Which has lead me to discover a whole subgenre racket on Youtube of podcasts designed just for people falling asleep. The most notable one is Get Sleepy, which carries celebrity endorsements and half a million subscribers. They release a new story/episode every two days, which sounds amazing when you see that a lot of their episodes are 3-5 hours long:

The truth, which I discovered because I still occasionally have trouble falling asleep, is that a lot of these stories are only about 15-30 minutes long. The remaining hours and hours of audio is just, like, sound machine noise. Wind and soft string instruments and a little bit of piano.

It's a racket because, obviously, most people fall asleep and leave the podcast running for the full length. Which is mostly the equivalent of dead air. And in terms of Youtube payouts, view counts largely don't matter anymore and haven't mattered in ages -- what Youtube counts for advertising revenue is view length. So they're putting out 30 minutes of content and making bank on four hours of view length.

And I personally hate it. When I listen to Get Sleepy now, all I'm doing is listening for the story to end and the sound machine to begin. So I tend to look for a more substantial podcast or video series, just for peace of mind if nothing else.

Which is a minefield in itself! Get Sleepy is the genre leader here and the eagle eyed among you may already be able to tell all their thumbnails are AI generated. It's all down hill from there. For example, recently I found a channel called "Pure Unintentional ASMR"...

I put on the "Sleepiest Voice Ever" one once, one night. And it's just this old guy going on about his spirituality, and you quickly get inundated with a lot of recommendations for self-help sleep hypnosis. Things to help you ease your anxious mind, help you get a restful night's sleep, help you overcome negativity in your life, and...

...feed you ugly conspiracy theories.

Sleep safely, friends.

please reblog I'm curious

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

gender: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[ln4madness]

ITS COLD❄️ - LN4

summary: y/n and Lando go on a winter road trip!

warnings: none, fluff

a/n: y’all have every fucking reason to hate me, but it’s finally winter break and honestly this school year has already been rough so this break was long awaited and i’ll try to get multiple fics up!

————————————————————————————

It was a cold winter morning, snow falling outside, cold wind blowing and sun shining bright. It was around 7am when Lando woke you up.

“Norris i’m gonna kill you, it’s too early” You said as you laid in bed, wrapped up in the cozy duvet. You wanted to go back to sleep, but knew Lando would drag you out of bed if you didn’t.

“We gotta get ready for the road trip, baby” Lando said as he walked in your shared bedroom, a hoodie and sweats on, his curly brown hair a little messy, and that beautiful smile you loved on his face.

“Can’t we just sleep?” You said as you closed your eyes and turned onto your side and continued sleeping. “No, get up, i made coffee for you.” Lando said as he tried to take the duvet off you.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” You said as you pushed the duvet off and sat up, putting on your slippers. You got up and wrapped your arms around Lando’s neck. “I love you, baby” you said as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, sweetheart. Now go drink the coffee and I’ll make breakfast.”

You were sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on the fresh hot coffee Lando had made for you just minutes ago. Watching Lando as he prepared some eggs and bacon for the both of you.

A few minutes later the food was ready and Lando joined you at the kitchen island with two plates of food. “Looks good” you said as you smiled at him. “Hope it tastes good too” Lando said as he chuckled slightly, his cooking skills not being the best. “I’m sure it tastes great” you said and took a bite.

15 minutes later you both finished your food. “I’m gonna go get ready now, baby” You said as Lando got up and took both of the dirty plates, putting them in the dishwasher.

You changed into a comfy sweat set, loose fit brown sweatpants and a matching oversized hoodie. You went into the bathroom and did your skincare and a little makeup.

“Looking good baby” Lando said as he walked in and kissed your forehead. “Lando you need to fix your hair, why is it so messy?” You laughed as you looking at him and ruffled his hair, making it even more messy. “Don’t mess it up even more you muppet!” Lando said as he leaned back, trying to stop you messing up his hair. You brushed your hair and put it in a messy-ish bun.

“You ready to go?” You asked Lando as you both walked out of the bathroom. “Yeah I’ll bring the bags to the car and then we can go.” Lando said as he put his white air forces on and a jacket. He took your bags and walked to the car. You put on your white air forces and your baby pink puffer jacket, you grabbed your handbag and scarf, before grabbing your phone and the keys.

You locked the door and walked to the car where Lando was loading the bags in the car. You had decided to go to Italy and stay at a cabin for a few days. You sat in the passenger seat and connected your phone to the aux.

A few hours now had passed and you were driving on snowy roads through a forest, snow falling slowly and everything looking so beautiful. You were watching a movie on your iPad as a wave of tiredness took over you. “Tired?” Lando asked you as he took a quick glance at you. “A little, my legs hurt.” You were sitting with your legs crisscrossed. “We’ll stop at the nearest gas station so you can stretch your legs.”

20 minutes had passed and you had stopped at a gas station. You immediately felt better as you got out of the car. You and Lando went inside to get some snacks. You got a can of redbull and some chips. “Financing the enemy, i see.” Lando said as he saw you grab the redbull from the fridge. “I’m tired and I prefer redbull to monster, Lando” you said as you went up to the counter and put the items down. Lando paid and you walked back to the car.

A few hours later you had made it to the cabin you were staying at. It was close to a town so ordering food was possible (thank god for that). You got your bags and settled into the cabin.

“This is cute” you said as you sat down on the couch in front of the tv and the fireplace. Lando lit the fireplace and sat down next to you. You cozied up with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate.

Lando was sitting next to you, his arm wrapped around you shoulder and his face nuzzled somewhere in your hair, breathing in the scent of you.

“I love this.” Lando said. “What exactly?” You asked. “This. The cabin, you, me, us.” Lando replied, looking at you with a smile. “You’re so cute Lan, I love you…so much” You said as you gave him a soft kiss which was soon turned into something a little more passionate by Lando. His hand making its way under your hoodie slowly. “You muppet!” You yelled at him as you chuckled a little.

You and Lando spent the evening cuddled up on the couch and ordering food for dinner. As the night progressed you and Lando went to the bedroom and slept wrapped up in the cozy duvets with his arm around your waist and your face nuzzled in his neck.

[heechwe]

beam me up | 𝐜𝐬𝐛

୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.5k ୨୧ genre: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy, smut ୨୧ tags: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, body (mostly chest) worship, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), oral (f receiving), fingering, breeding kink, lactation kink, unprotected sex, down bad soobin essentially. ୨୧ synopsis: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ➸ bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm

Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.

The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, you’re ready to spend one night simply as Soobin’s wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.

It’s been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her father‘s pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you can’t deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.

Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.

You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmother’s arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. “She usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, that’s even better. And then—“

Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.

Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but it’s ‌electric. “You look beautiful.” He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.

You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. He’s always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the bill‌. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Binnie.”

His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. “If you need something that isn’t in her diaper bag, please‌—“

“Soobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.” His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. “I promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.”

You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoung’s soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. It’s the first time you’ve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. “Be good for grandma, lil’ bun,” Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.

When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. “Ready to go?”

You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, you’re relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyone’s guess. “Definitely.”

You both sit at the table in the restaurant like it’s your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.

Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He can’t help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. He’s been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, it’s like he’s seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve been married for half a decade, ‌yet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. It’s the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.

With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.

But, instead of revealing he’s in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.

The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. “I know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know that’s your favorite.”

It’s the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggle‌, unable to contain it.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.

“Nothing at all, Binnie. I’m just happy.”

Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.

Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but it’s what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but he’s well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.

It’s surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.

Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now it’s full-on pain erupting in your chest.

Why is it so uncomfortable?

You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.

The impending concern rises on Soobin’s face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. “Here baby, take this.”

A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. You’re unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I—”

“Baby, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s normal.” Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. You’re a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!

Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. It’s been almost three hours since he’s talked to his mother.

When the line rings, Soobin doesn’t let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.

By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if something’s wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.

What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anything’s possible, right?

Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isn’t getting back to him.

You trot over to the table, tucking Soobin’s jacket tighter around your chest so it doesn’t flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but you’re ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.

You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobin’s face has gone stark white. “I think I got most of it, but—“

“We have to go. Something’s wrong.”

You don’t think twice, practically stealing Soobin’s keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.

Soobin tries to knock on his parents’ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he can’t help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his mother’s. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.

Soobin’s mother answers the door with a shocked expression. “Honey, what are you two—“

Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoung’s name like she’s able to answer him back.

Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobin’s dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. “Hey, kids. Why are you here?”

Soobin stutters when he responds. “M-Mom wasn’t answering and we—“

“Oh, lord.” You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. “You left the restaurant for that?”

“What were we supposed to think?” Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that you’re not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt would’ve been too much to bear.

Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his father’s arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesn’t care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. “Daddy’s here, Minnie.” He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. “I’m right here.”

You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harm’s way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, you’re calmer nonetheless.

Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. “Sorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.”

Although you’ll never tell him, you don’t mind that he did so. He’s an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.

You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobin’s arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. “Daddy is gonna be the death of me, isn’t he, baby girl?”

Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoung’s fists with his palm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Now that you both have made sure she’s okay, go back to your date night!” Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmother’s neck. “It’s rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.” She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. “Right, sweetie? How dare they!”

“It’s officially off, I promise.” Soobin puts his phone in the glove-box once he parks the car in the downtown parking garage, determined to make the rest of the date night go off without a hitch.

You laugh and take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. “So much for low-key and relaxing, right?”

“Hey!” He points at you with his other hand. “It’s only 8 PM. The night’s still young.”

“Well, we’re not gonna be able to go back to the restaurant now. Not after I practically gave out my milk for free.” You cover your face with the palm not wrapped in your husband’s, but he takes that one too.

“Stop it,” he chides with a stern pout. “Even if you leaked through your shirt every time we went out, you’d still be more beautiful than every other person on the planet.”

You tease, "You're just saying that."

“I mean it! Do you see how gorgeous and incredible Minyoung is? That’s half your handiwork.”

You roll your eyes, but your body lights from within at his words. “She’s half yours too. You probably didn’t notice, but every waitress was checking you out.”

Soobin blushes hard, suddenly shy. “They were not.”

“Yes, they were. I can’t blame them, though. Parenthood has made you ten times sexier.”

Soobin quirks an eyebrow, the undercurrent of passion in your words unmistakable. He gets closer to you until your faces are barely an inch apart. His lips ghost over yours. “I could say the same about you. I’ve only had eyes for you, but even more so now that you’ve had my baby.”

You gulp, noticing how hard your thighs are clenching in your seat. Soobin notices too, holding one of your knees in his hand with a smirk. “Binnie, I’m not hungry for food anymore.”

He presses his lips to yours slowly. You moan into his mouth from such exquisite pleasure that’s been long overdue. He glides his tongue in between your lips as he palms one of your breasts over his jacket. When he takes his mouth from yours, he’s breathing heavily. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

It’s a clash of teeth and tongue when you make it inside the house. Hands run over curves and skin to take off the restricting clothing, appearances be damned.

You discard Soobin’s button-up somewhere in the hallway as he pulls your hair loose from your bun, clutching the strands at your nape to expose more of your neck. He riddles your skin with love bites before you even make it to the bedroom, but you both love it. How feral and frantic you are for one another, no children or external restrictions holding you back.

By the time your body hits the king-sized bed, all that’s left on you, garments-wise, is your thin bralette and mismatched underwear. Soobin looks over your body with a hunger that’s unshakeable. The poor man’s probably salivating at the mouth by now, just like you. 

Ever since the doctor’s six-week ban on any physically strenuous activity, he couldn’t imagine dry-humping without fear of hurting you. That timeline came and went in a flash, but with the fatigue of daily life, it seemed impossible to find time to be intimate.

Until now, that is.

“How did I get so lucky? You’re angelic.” Soobin spreads his palms out over your chest. His long fingers squeeze your breasts over the confines of your lingerie, making you moan. “I have to take this off, bunny. I need to see you.”

You feel heat pooling at your center from his gaze, his words, his touches on your skin. You unclasp the clips holding your bra together and flick it away, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

He used to be so shy during sex, and now he wastes no time unzipping his pants to touch himself. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts, staring at the pebbling of your nipples and the volume of your tits from lactation. He spreads the pooling pre-cum in his hand to rub his cock earnestly.

You whimper and clench around nothing, the center of your underwear incredibly damp. Why did he get to have all the fun and leave you frustrated? “Binnie, please touch me.”

“Gladly.” He uses the hand not holding his dick to yank your underwear off and throw them in a corner of your room. Once the fabric is gone, he dives in between your legs. His licks start small, kitten-like in their touch, but soon he grows hungrier, more dominant. Eating you out has always been one of his favorite things during sex, like it's the only thing he needs to do to sustain himself.

“You taste amazing. You always do.” He stops jerking himself off to press two fingers inside of you without warning, mixing his essence with yours on his way to your warm and wet walls. His lips and tongue remain attached to your clit as he prods you soft and slow.

“God, it feels so good.” You raise your hips to match the rhythm of his hand inside of you. Despite being eager to keep his mouth between your legs, you reach down for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. “I want you up here with me.”

Soobin smiles gently before crawling up the expanse of your body. He looks down at you, unable to hide how strong his desire runs in his veins. But instead of his declarations of love that he’s said a million times before, he greets you with a deep kiss to your lips and pushes his fingers back into your cunt.

You moan into his mouth. “Jesus fuck, babe.” You whimper as he leans his head down to latch his mouth to one of your nipples, still ramming his hand deeper into you. Some milk sinks onto his tongue and dribbles past his chin, but he doesn’t care. If anything, it turns him on more. His cock produces more pre-cum and spreads onto your bedsheets.

“I want you inside of me, Soobin.” You spread your legs wider for him to settle into, and he does.

He rubs the head of his cock across your slit before nestling inside fully, his mouth opening in a large gasp as he fills you. “It always feels like the first time, bunny. Always so tight for me, fuck.”

His pace is reverent, driven by his lust, his love for you, and his desire to make this experience as incredible as it already is for him. He rubs your clit between his fingers, and your face contorts into absolute pleasure after a few minutes like that, privy to every feeling. When you fall apart, your body clenching around him in ecstasy, the moment is too beautiful for Soobin to handle. It’s a picture he wants to tattoo on his heart forever.

You could have done anything in this life, and by his luck and the universe’s grace, you were led straight to him and have given him some of the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. Your love, your hand in marriage, your children.

He would follow you anywhere without question. And he may not always believe it, but he also holds all the same powers over you. Without him, the world would be a lot duller, no color to define the edges and details of the life that you’ve built together. He makes it all worth it.

So when his next words leave his mouth, you can’t help but agree with them, the thought too beautiful in the throes of your desire to say no to. “I want to fill you up, bunny. Have another baby with you, as many as you want. So beautiful like this, but you’re even more beautiful heavy and pregnant, shit,” he moans, eyes screwed shut as he chases his own orgasm.

“Yes, Binnie, fill me up. Come inside of me, give me another. Pretty please?”

Those two words are his undoing, the blade that severs the cord that’s been slowly tightening in his stomach since he saw you in your dress five hours ago. He spills inside of you, your insides hot with his release. He doesn’t let any part of it go to waste, fucking it into you until his hips can’t go for much longer.

He lies beside you, both of your chests heaving. And while the moment was an amalgamation of intense passion, you both look at each other and laugh like teenagers. It takes you back to that first night, the first “I love you,” all the first you’ve shared and the ones that are yet to come.

“You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” He rubs your bare arm as he stares deeply into your eyes, more in love than he was a second ago. “I could not have found anyone better to be my wife and my children’s mother than you.” He kisses you on the forehead, his lips featherlight. “I love you.”

You may be incredibly hormonal, any words that make your heart seize up more than likely to cause a well of tears in your eyes. But these don’t. They make your heart lighter, shoot all your fears down, and quell any insecurities that have sprung to the surface since the two of you have become parents.

“I love you, Binnie. In this lifetime and all the other ones,” you respond. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the tempo of his heartbeat against your ear.

Everyone told you both how hard having kids would be. You know you’re not in the home stretch, not in the slightest, but with Soobin, no mountain you’ll come across is insurmountable.

All because he’s yours and you’re his.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @moadiarynet @lapydiaries @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[soobchwe]

beam me up —⋆˚࿔ 𝚌𝚜𝚋

SFW version of my fic posted here on @heechwe .ᐟ ୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.9k ୨୧ genre: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy ୨୧ tags: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), down bad soobin essentially. ୨୧ synopsis: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ➸ bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm

Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.

The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, you’re ready to spend one night simply as Soobin’s wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.

It’s been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her father‘s pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you can’t deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.

Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.

You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmother’s arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. “She usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, that’s even better. And then—“

Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.

Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but it’s ‌electric. “You look beautiful.” He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.

You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. He’s always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the bill‌. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Binnie.”

His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. “If you need something that isn’t in her diaper bag, please‌—“

“Soobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.” His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. “I promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.”

You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoung’s soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. It’s the first time you’ve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. “Be good for grandma, lil’ bun,” Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.

When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. “Ready to go?”

You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, you’re relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyone’s guess. “Definitely.”

You both sit at the table in the restaurant like it’s your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.

Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He can’t help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. He’s been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, it’s like he’s seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve been married for half a decade, ‌yet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. It’s the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.

With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.

But, instead of revealing he’s in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.

The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. “I know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know that’s your favorite.”

It’s the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggle‌, unable to contain it.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.

“Nothing at all, Binnie. I’m just happy.”

Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.

Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but it’s what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but he’s well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.

It’s surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.

Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now it’s full-on pain erupting in your chest.

Why is it so uncomfortable?

You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.

The impending concern rises on Soobin’s face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. “Here baby, take this.”

A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. You’re unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I—”

“Baby, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s normal.” Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. You’re a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!

Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. It’s been almost three hours since he’s talked to his mother.

When the line rings, Soobin doesn’t let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.

By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if something’s wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.

What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anything’s possible, right?

Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isn’t getting back to him.

You trot over to the table, tucking Soobin’s jacket tighter around your chest so it doesn’t flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but you’re ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.

You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobin’s face has gone stark white. “I think I got most of it, but—“

“We have to go. Something’s wrong.”

You don’t think twice, practically stealing Soobin’s keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.

Soobin tries to knock on his parents’ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he can’t help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his mother’s. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.

Soobin’s mother answers the door with a shocked expression. “Honey, what are you two—“

Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoung’s name like she’s able to answer him back.

Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobin’s dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. “Hey, kids. Why are you here?”

Soobin stutters when he responds. “M-Mom wasn’t answering and we—“

“Oh, lord.” You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. “You left the restaurant for that?”

“What were we supposed to think?” Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that you’re not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt would’ve been too much to bear.

Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his father’s arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesn’t care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. “Daddy’s here, Minnie.” He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. “I’m right here.”

You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harm’s way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, you’re calmer nonetheless.

Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. “Sorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.”

Although you’ll never tell him, you don’t mind that he did so. He’s an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.

You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobin’s arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. “Daddy is gonna be the death of me, isn’t he, baby girl?”

Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoung’s fists with his palm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Now that you both have made sure she’s okay, go back to your date night!” Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmother’s neck. “It’s rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.” She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. “Right, sweetie? How dare they!”

You share another laugh with Soobin, tucking your face into his neck. Parenthood may not be the breeziest role, but with Soobin at your side, you believe with all of your heart that it’s one of the best adventures you’ll ever go on together.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @lapydiaries @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Four)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, Arkham Knight lore and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader uses she/her pronouns btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief

Part four: Arkham

Although you told Gar you were going to sleep that didn’t happen. Instead you stayed up picking apart the new note of the Jokers Dick sent you. Rachel texted you about an hour ago letting you know her and Kori got to Gotham safely and she promised to update you. You didn’t know why Dick felt the need to break one of the promises he made to you, but finding out that information was a problem for another day. The problem right now was finding Jason, he was all you could think about. You didn’t know where he was or what he could be going through.

Gotham City Point of View

Jason remembers finding Joker at the abandoned amusement park. He was sure he’d finally get his chance to drag joker to Arkham himself. It seems the exact opposite happened though, Jason was now tied to a chair in Arkham. He tried to move but was quickly ment with an excruciating stabbing pain through his whole body. It seemed to be coming from the barbed wire that kept him tied to the chair. He knew we was in Arkham because he recognized the cell from the times him and Bruce dropped by to ask various criminals various questions. Jason always suspected part of Arkham if not all of it was corrupt and not handling criminals properly. The fact that he was there confirmed his theory. His Robin suit was covered in blood, he assumed it was his own. The smell of the cell told him he was most likely in an abandoned condemned part of the hospital. It was oddly quiet, the only noise being from running rats and dripping of broken pipes.

Regular Point of View

“Y/N!” You felt someone shaking you awake. “Y/N,” Gar says.

“What! What’s happened!” You yelled suddenly not being at all tired.

“They think they decoded the latest note, Dick and Rachel said they called you but I guess you slept through it,” he says.

“Shit!” You say. “The note, what’s it say?”

“The baby bird is kept, where the bats mother wept, soon to only be, is what the Archer really needs, alone and free to be, haunted by eternity,” Rachel says through the phone.

“Obviously the baby bird is Jason and you’re the archer, the general idea is joker is gonna kill Jason to haunt you forever, what we can’t get is the location,” Dick says.

“Well bat is Batman obviously,” you say trying to calm down from being woken up so suddenly.

“Wasn’t Martha Wayne an Arkham?” Gar says.

“Holy shit!” You say. “Dick he’s at Arkham, joker has Jason at Arkham somewhere. Gar you’re a genius.”

“We’re on our way,” Dick says through the phone before he hangs up.

Gotham Point of View

Jason’s whole body hurt. He didn’t even know pain could feel this bad. Sure he’s broken bones, been tortured before, and nearly died, but none of that came close to what he was feeling now.

“So tell me Robin, or should I say Jason Todd,” Joker began to say. “What is it exactly that your little girlfriend sees in you?”

“Fucking excuse me?” Jason says.

“Well you surely know before you she had a thing with the other Robin, the first Robin…the better Robin,” Joker says.

Jason laughs, it causes him immeasurable amounts of pain but he laughs to cover his fear. “Damn clown, have you really seeped that low were you gotta get your entertainment from a fucking rumored young adult love triangle?” Jason says.

“You know,” Joker’s voice was serious it made a chill go up Jason’s spine. “You know replacement Robin, one day that smartass attitude of yours might just be the death of you,” he starts manically laughing again. Jason felt genuine pure fear at the crazy purple suit wearing man standing before him. Joker reached onto the filthy floor and picked up a crowbar.

Regular Point of View

You and Gar were sitting on the couch, wide awake, in silence when your phone rang well into the next morning.

“We haven’t found anything yet,” Dick says. “But we’ve got every cop and Arkham security guard in Gotham looking for him, we’re searching Arkham wing by wing.”

“Okay, can you put Rachel on,” you say.

“Hold up I wanna talk to you-“ he starts to say.

“Dick please put Rachel on,” you say again.

“I will in three fucking seconds but just answer me real quick. I heard you slept through fifteen phone calls. When’s the last time you ate something?”

“You are fucking unbelievable,” you say.

“Just answer the question,” he says.

“Last night,” you say in a condescending tone.

“And how long were you actually asleep for do you think?” He asks in a serious voice ignoring your passive aggressive tone.

“I don’t know…” you say “Like an hour or two,” you say.

“Right, I’ll put Rachel on then go to sleep and have Gar wake up as soon as we call again,” he says.

“Fine,” you say.

“Hey,” Rachel says.

“Hey how’s everything going?” You ask.

“It’s just what Dick said, we’re searching Arkham wing by wing, and Dicks going behind GCPD like a mom remaking a bed,” she says. That took you aback, the fact that Dick was going behind GCPD double checking to make sure each room was clear.

“Okay, thanks Rachel just call back as soon as you guys find something,” you say. You hang up and figure you should take Dick’s advice to try to get some sleep.

“Hey Gar, are you good staying up if I try to get some sleep?” You ask him.

“Yeah sure,” he says.

“Just make sure to wake me up as soon as someone calls,” you say.

“Course,” he says.

Back in Gotham Dick, Kori, Rachel and Barbra crept through every inch of Arkham searching for Jason.

“We missed down this hall,” Dick says to one of the cops.

“Yeah unit nine got that one,” the cop says.

“No I’m checking them all myself, Barbra’s orders,” Dick says.

“Yeah but that wings condemned, it’s simply not safe and-“ the cop is cut off when Dick starts speedily walking towards the hall.

“Sir! Sir! You can’t go down there!” The cop yells. Dick bursts through the door and apart from it being disgusting it looks structurally fine. He reaches for his ear piece and tells Barbra to send everyone over to sweep the wing. They search every cell, every hall, and every room under finally on the floor of one of the cells is a bloody boy beaten to a pulp lying dead wearing a Robin suit. On the floor of the Arkham cell was the corpse of Jason Todd. Dick checked his pulse and exhausted CPR before a cop ripped him from Jason’s body.

“He’s gone, he’s gone” Kori said taking Dick from the cop. Dick was completely out of it. He felt as thought he might throw up that is when he reverted back to the man he was before he became nightwing. He stormed over to Barbra.

“You’ve got dirty cops here,” he said angrily.

“I know, look you need to pull yourself together okay don’t do this here,” she says.

“You know? How would you father fucking feel about you letting his damn police force go to shit!” He yells.

“Hey! You are way fucking out of line, I know Jason’s dead but you need to stay focused, this isn’t over yet. And I know Arkham has gone to hell and so has half my police force but I’m doing the best I can,” Barbra says. Dick is about to say something else when he practically leaps over to Rachel and rips her phone out of her hand.

“The hell are you doing?” He says.

“Dick, we have to call them!” Rachel says.

“Listen Rachel give everyone a second okay,” Kori says.

“No, this is exactly why I’m here so you don’t wait five hours,” she says.

“Fine fine, you’re right but let me make the call I want to tell Gar first,” he says.

“Fine but let me tell Gar,” Rachel says.

Back at the tower Gar gets a call from Dick and the first thing he says is, “is Y/N asleep?”

“Yeah,” Gar says.

“Don’t wake her up yet,” Dick says.

“But she said-“ Gar starts to say before he’s interrupted by Rachel.

“Gar don’t wake her up yet,” Rachel says.

“What’s going on Rach, have you guys found Jason?” Gar asks.

“Yes, we found him.” She says. She hesitates before saying, “Gar, he’s…gone”

“Gone? What do you mean gone? Like disappeared again gone? Gone missing?” Gar says talking quickly.

“No Gar, he’s dead,” she says softly.

“What?” He says with a voice crack.

“We um, we found him in Arkham…it looks like he’s been beaten…he’s been beaten to death,” she says.

“Oh my God,” he says beginning to tear up. “Shit am I the one telling Y/N?” Gar asks.

“No, Dick said he will,” Rachel says.

“I’d really like to just let her sleep honestly,” Dick says.

“She wants to be waken up and told,” Rachel says. It’s not like Dick was scared to break the news he knew it was going to go badly. He just liked the idea of you asleep, peacefully unaware that you’d never see Jason again.

“Wake her up and give her the phone off speaker,” Dick says plainly.

“Y/N?” Gar says softly waking you up.

“What’s happened?” You say quickly snapping out of your sleepy state.

“Um…Dick is on the phone for you,” he says. You take the phone from Gar.

“Y/N,” Dick says softly.

“Have you found him,” you say with anticipation.

“I’m so sorry Y/N” Dick says.

“Sorry! What do you mean you’re sorry?” You say frantically.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, we found Jason, he’s dead.” Dick says.

Hey, writing jokers dialogue felt awkward so I hope it’s not too cringy💀 Anyways if you liked the fic please like I really appreciate positive feedback cause then I know to continue posting parts. I’d like to keep posting parts to this story I plan on developing the whole redhood story line and then doing some backstory with how the reader met Jason and Dick and joined titans. So yeah any positive feedback would be greatly appreciated even if it’s just liking the fic! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed reading🩷

Also here’s my Masterlist if you haven’t read the other parts.

Masterlist

[jakef3ver]

Nishimura Riki | NDA

☁︎︎︎ Idol!riki x fan!reader | fem!reader

↯ fluff, crack maybe suggestive a little more into the fic, use of social media (instagram, twt), reader is just a regular girl going to school and stuff

⚠︎︎ will contain mentions of alcohol consume later

lil note: i wanted to post this wayyyy earlier but i couldn’t type because i broke my right arm like 3 weeks ago lmao

-xxx-xxxxx-xxxx Text me :)-

It was shortly after 10 PM when you arrive at your little apartment, just as you walked through the door you receive a text from your boss, Mrs Mina.

Of course you could cover a shift, a little bit of extra money is always nice, isn't it?

Also, it’s just 4 hours and you hadn't anything planned anyway.

Since you had to get up early tomorrow, you quickly got ready for bed, to sleep earlier today.

BUT you couldn't get Nishimura Riki out of your head.

This goddam smile this morning in the cafe and the fact that out of all coffee places,

Ni-ki and Jake showed up at your workplace, had you tossing around in bed until you finally could close your eyes for good.

As soon as Riki hears his alarm go off, he's awake. And he's nervous. But he wants to try and look where it leads him.

He gets up from the hotel bed, takes a pen and rips off a small piece of paper from a notebook he always carries around.

He starts writing after shortly thinking about it again.

xxx-xxxxx-xxxx

Text me :)

He puts back the pen and his notebook before standing up and getting ready to accomplish his little mission with Jake.

After dressing up in some baggy joggers and an oversized hoodie, he carefully folds the little piece of paper and places it in his wallet.

After locking his room, he heads down to the hotel lobby and sends Jake a message.

“So what's your plan?” Jake asks while walking along with Riki in the direction of the cafe.

Riki pulls out the little paper piece that he had written just minutes ago.

“Here” he shows it to Jake “should be okay, right?” Riki asks, looking at Jake.

“Yeah that should do it” he answers “Just smile at her again like you did yesterday” he chuckles while finishing his sentence.

“Shut up” Ni-ki snaps and carefully puts his paper back into his wallet.

“Come on it’ll be fine, trust me” Jake exclaims “You're a hot guy with a nice smile” he finishes and ruffles Rikis hair.

“sure” Ni-ki mumbles as response.

After a short walk of 10 minutes, they reach the cafe, your workplace.

Before entering, Riki takes a deep breath.

“You got this Riki” Jake encourages him and gives him a pat on the back.

Jake walks in first, Riki following directly behind him, already holding the piece of paper in his hand.

As they walk up to the counter, Ni-ki doesn't see you standing there, waiting to take their orders in. He subtly glances around, searching for you. But you were nowhere to be found.

In fact, there was no one behind the counter.

Jake rings a little bell with a sign in front of it that says “Please ring if no one is here”.

And there you were, just a minute before your shift is over.

Jake orders the coffee he had yesterday, now tapping Riki who was lost in thoughts, signaling him it's his turn.

Riki turns to face you and hesitantly starts to speak, with a slight stutter in his voice.

As you went to go to the staff room, to take off your apron you heard the bell ring, signaling someone wants to order.

So you instantly turn and go back behind the counter.

As soon as you see WHO wants to order, you take a deep breath to keep yourself together.

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” you say, more composed than yesterday.

Jake and Ni-ki both order their drinks.

As Riki speaks, you notice a slight nervousness radiating from him.

Is he okay? You think to yourself, while typing in their orders.

You tell them the total for their order and Ni-ki pulls out his wallet and hands you more money than needed

“Ju-just keep the rest” he tells you with a small smile.

You nod and put the money into the little cash register. While doing so, you notice a small piece of paper.

He must’ve accidentally given it to you with the money. So you decide to put it aside and give it to him when handing them their drinks.

And so you do, you hand both of them their coffee.

“here you accidentally gave this to me with the money” you say to Riki, your voice a little shaky.

He looks at the piece of paper and shakes his head. “it’s for you” he says so quietly it is nearly impossible to hear, but you still understand.

Jake says goodbye with a smile before going, while Riki just quickly leaves.

As soon as they were out of the cafe, you rush to the staff room to look at the paper, which you didn’t do until now.

xxx-xxxxx-xxxx

Text me :)

“No fucking way” you whisper. That couldn’t be happening right now, could it?

“No fucking way that this was meant for me” you speak to yourself.

You quickly get rid of the Apron and grab your bag to rush home, with the piece of paper carefully placed in your pocket.

masterlist | previous | next

tags: @chaevibes @yangjungwonnie @minskzy @d-dilemma @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @ssiiwave @deadpool15 @enhabooks

[shizunitis]

MENG MO X YUE QINGYUAN??? I'm intrigued

i had to go into my notes from months ago for this, because i'm SO sleepy i'm not sure i can rework it properly right now, but i love this ship a Normal Amount. so, with some editing:

IMAGINE (and do not think too much about the details, airplane’s world is ours to do with as we please):

yue qingyuan: sect leader whose favourite (not that he has favourites) shidi went off into the big wide world and married (without inviting him. he found out months after the fact.) his demon emperor student after almost starting a war with the demon realm by way of thinking too much, and he's kind of stressed about all of it.

which isn’t great. mu-shidi has recommended “peace and quiet”. yue qingyuan doesn’t laugh in people’s faces, but he came incrementally close to doing so that day.

though he’s keeping up with the demands of the sect, as he always has, people keep saying he “has the energy of an empty nester wraith” (qi qingqi, always a pleasure and a delight) and is “bringing the vibes, like, way down",” (wei qingwqi, with shang-shidi’s influence, he correctly guesses ) which is, perhaps, reason to believe the “peace and quiet” plan of action isn’t going great.

his most basic issue at the moment is his sleep. he can’t rest , and when he does sleep, it’s only an hour of quality sleep per week. which, in spite of being a powerful cultivator, is not a good way of living. he meditates and deals. whatever.

then shen qingqiu (who was so embarrassed about the sect’s reactions to his shotgun wedding (offended and/or amused, mostly) that he put off his return by an extra fourty three days, not that yue qingyuan is counting) finally visits. he brings as many souvenirs as he deems sufficient bribery, which yue qingyuan is not too proud to monopolise. he's the sect leader for a reason.

they somehow end up talking about luo bignhe’s proficiency with the demonic dream arts, and how wonderful it’s been to have him watching over shen qingqiu’s dreamscape every now and then. shen qingqiu recommends it, with a not-so-subtle pointed look at his undereye bags, and yue qingyuan resolves to look into it, see if there’s any merit in the idea. he dismisses it when it doesn’t seem to be possible without involving demonic practices, but it was worth a try.

the days pass, the not-so-newlyweds go about their days, and yue qingyuan notices luo binghe looking like he’s planning something. he’s got that “vibe” about him. it’s the shifty eyes.

since yue qingyuan is seemingly the only one in the sect who respects shen qingqiu’s choice in partner, he decides to do some… not meddling. it’s more of a show of respect! a token of… being someone’s brother-in-law!

he regrets it immediately.

he quickly realise sluo binghe is looking to actually get the sect to accept him as shen qingqiu’s husband and not just the limpet they have to suffer to see their sect sibling, which now makes it an Official Sect Problem.

yue qingyuan cannot let him try with liu qingge first, mu qingfang is still annoyed about the kidnappings, and qi qingqi will get shen qingqiu sarcastic again, which is delightful but not exactly conducive to a Peaceful and Quiet Time. so, he goes ahead and makes small talk.

it is as painful as he imagined. how is an actual emperor this bad at casual chitchat?

this and that is said, and in a last ditch attempt at salvaging the situation, yue qingyuan brings up the dream stuff. he says he’s been trying to research more dream arts techniques, and luo binghe’s eyes do a thing, and the next thing yue qingyuan knows, it’s the evening and a dream demon is stuck in his head with clear instructions not to let yue qingyuan feel an ounce of stress while sleeping.

he immediately feels a lot of stress.

the reaction of yue qingyuan’s sleeping mind at having a demon infiltrator sniffing around is enough to startle him. meng mo, who yoe quingyuan has never met before, takes a look at the place and says, “well it’s not worse than that brat’s, at least,” which is worrisome.

since they’re both stuck like this, and meng mo (who shen qingqiu has apparently been calling “senior”, which yue qingyuan decides to do as well, on principle) doesn’t seem hyped about the situation either, yue qingyuan decides… well.

what’s the worst that can happen?

so he spends his nights half-confiding to an ancient demon who controls nightmares and loves conjuring up weird things he saw in people’s dreams, and half-listening to him complain about the luo-shen couple and binghe’s insufferable thoughts and dreams. he learns more than he probably should. definitely more than he wanted to.

honestly, it’s kind of nice. so nice, that he makes a mistake: he gets complacent.

the mix of everything that’s been happening in the last few months finally catches up to yue qingyuan. it results in having some less-peaceful dreams.

meng mo being there proves to be a surprisingly good thing. though they’ve built up a rapport over however many weeks it’s been, yue qingyuan did not expect meng mo to help him with guarding nightmares, regardless of what luo binghe had said. it’s not like yue qingyuan was inclined to snitch on the old man.

meng mo isn’t kind about helping him, but he is so unphased by the myrriad of horrible memories stuck behind yue qingyuan’s pleasant and placid gaze that yue qingyuan finally makes some progress in his cultivation after years of stagnation.

of course, this is put into perspective when, for some odd and airplane-esque reason, yue qingyuan has a sex dream. this, more than anything, intrigues meng mo, who is above all a proud filthy old man. meng mo has criticism for yue qingyuan’s ideas of sex and a fun time, so pitying his lacklustre imagination, he provides him with more gratifying dreams that night.

meng mo is an old man, but he is undeniably handsome. he’s got that severe, masterful air about him, a sarcastic and prideful bearing, and a penchant for vulgarity, and… ah.

yue qingyuan is not going to think about that too much, actually.

meng mo is obviously aware that yue qingyuan is an attractive man, since he has refereed to his pecs as “a treasure wasted on someone who doesn’t know how to use them properly”. yue qingyuan is given many nicknames, like “pretty boy” or some such.

over the whatever next amount of time, they end up actually getting together by grace of meng mo’s schemes and manipulations (he just like. conjures vaguely sexual stuff with increasing frequency, until yue qingyuan finally takes the bait and lets it happen), which yue qingyuan is so confused about. not that he likes it, but that it’s actually helping with the “peace and quiet” treatment plan.

he does not tell mu qingfang. mu qingfang somehow, for some reason, knows. yue qingyuan will not that about that too much, either.

//

so that's where the note ended. if i remember correctly i immediately fell asleep, and i think that last line is meant as a meng mo/yue qingyuan/mu qingfang throuple kind of thing but i can’t be certain. i’m sorry. 😔 i just feel like these three, but especially yqy & meng mo would mix together in such Weird ways.

also i firmly believe yue qingyuan should get what binghe didn’t: an old man to fuck. and actual conversations about his trauma.

[milla-frenchy]

Ughhhhh I cant' believe it's almost over, I'm gonna miss them dearly ❤️❤️❤️

Joel stayed for three nights. On the fourth night, Lily woke up cold, alone, the absence of his warmth like a missing limb ripped from her some time in the soft, orange morning. Panic seized her gut before she was fully awake, bouncing around, squeezing at her organs like a leech. She blinked manically, squeezing her eyes shut tight, eyelashes going spiky as she tried to clear her vision, as she tried to reach for the bulk of him only to come back empty.

Your writing is so vivid, I almost feel the emotions as if I were lily, how amazing is that? 🤌🤌

Lily tried not to think about it, tried not to think about his note, his silence, tried not to think about Caleb, how he was still out there, some part of him possibly still aware as that fungus ate away at him, forced him to do its bidding.

My god...

It took Joel five hours on horseback, weaving around the grounds outside of Jackson, to find those damn flowers. The idea had burrowed itself into his head last night, as he held a sleeping Lily, gently tracing the big, open flower tattooed on her shoulder. Those lilies, the ones he'd ripped out of the community garden years ago. He needed them back. 

omg he left to find some lilies??? 😍😍😍

Maybe it was a little silly, his sudden need to go get those flowers back, but it felt necessary, felt like some final piece falling into place. He'd ripped those flowers out once, because he couldn't bear the thought of her, couldn't even speak her name without falling apart. And now she was here, and he was trying, trying to be soft for her, gentle for her. If she was back, he needed the flowers back too.

Noooo it's not silly, it's amazing and I love it 😍😍

But before he could, Ellie was bursting, like she'd been holding the words in for just as long as she'd been ignoring him. "I was supposed to die in that hospital," she spat out, driving each word home with a slam of her hand against the top of the railing. "My life would have fucking mattered, but you took that from me." Joel wanted to tell her that her life did matter, mattered to him, mattered to her friends, should matter to her. Joel wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't, didn't know how. So, he said something else, something just as poignant, just as true, as he pushed himself off the railing to stand up straight and face her. "If somehow the lord gave me a second chance at that moment I would do it all over again." Silence fell between the two of them as Ellie searched his face, then turned to look back out across the yard, toward her house. "Yeah..." she whispered. "I just— I don't think I can ever forgive you for that—" And that stabbed into Joel like a hot knife, a choked breath shuddering out of him. "But I would like to try," she added, after a biting moment of silence. His heart slammed into his ribs, while something wet and trembling echoed from his lips. "I'd like that," he whispered, blinking hard to try to dissolve the tears in his eyes, something glimmering in his core now, something like hope. "Okay," Ellie said softly, pushing herself off the railing, "I'll see you around."

Ok, I need to express how much I LOVED how you added the game part. The EXACT game part. This is amazing. I played the game so many times, I love it so much, and your series fits in so perfectly it's so damn brilliant

"I missed you, Lily. Every day. I never stopped missin' you." He felt her tremble in his arms, her fingers twisting into his shirt as she slowly lifted her head, those bright glossy eyes searching his own. "And I'm— I'm sorry," he choked out, the words clawing their way out of him. "M'so sorry, baby, for lying to you, for bein' so horrible, I— I hate myself for it. I don't deserve your forgiveness and I'm not asking you for it." Lily opened her mouth, about to speak, those blue eyes gazing up at him, so soft, so bright he loathed himself for ever making her cry, for ever speaking such blasphemous, egregious things to her, even if he'd spoken them to keep her safe, to keep her away from him, the disgusting creature he'd become. "Let me finish," he said, before she could speak, reaching up to run his thumb across the soft skin beneath her eye, collecting a tear as he did. "When Sarah died," he exhaled the words, relief and agony swirling in marriage in his gut. "That first day. I— I didn't see any reason to keep goin'." His hand shook as he took her wrist in his hand, bringing her fingers up to that gnarled scar on his temple. She exhaled sharply as her fingers brushed against it, her hand trembling against him, those bright blue eyes going a little dark, glossing over with new tears that made him want to scream. "When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched, 'cause I heard your voice."

Oh boy. The confession about his feelings. The fact that he heard her voice????

"M'right here baby, you feel me? You're so full of me, little one," he purred, taking her hand from his shoulder and placing it on her lower belly, pressing his own hand over it so she could feel him inside of her, feel the thick shape of his cock hammering into her.

wow. So hot, so perfect

Joel dropped his head, trying to push the darkness he felt surging through him away, trying to cast it out so she would not fall victim to it, to him again. Never again. But then he felt it, her little hand spreading out over his cheek, and he trembled at the touch, a shudder working itself down his spine, and he let himself fall into it, into her, let himself be weak. "I killed them all," Joel muttered. "I saved her." Lily gently lifted his head, those blue eyes he'd been in search of his entire life gazing straight into his, without fear, without disgust, with something so warm he felt that black rottenness inside him completely melt away.

I love that he told her. And of course, of course, Lily's perfect, perfect words.

"Caleb," she choked out, when he was close enough to see, when she could make out the way his blue eyes had gone glossy and red, see the way his skin had gone discolored and scabbed. And he paused, the creature controlling him— or perhaps him, buried deep somewhere inside that vessel— paused at the sound of his name, cocking his head, twitching in place as he stared at her. It was almost like he knew, like he heard her somewhere in there, like the last remaining shred of his humanity was desperately trying to keep the creature controlling him from ripping her apart. She let out a sputtering cry, blinking rapidly, trying to keep her vision clear so she could see him one last time, even if this version of him was monstrous, even if the virus had eaten away all the life that had once brimmed in his eyes.

And here I am, sobbing again while I re read this chapter 🥺🥺🥺

"The Jeff Goldblum love." Something sprang open in Joel's chest at that, and he laughed, a full-bodied, thundering laugh as his head tilted back, and he heard Lily match it with a little giggle that made his stomach flutter. "You guys are fucking weird," Ellie breathed out, but when he glanced over at her, there was a smile tugging at her lips, and her eyes flickered to him for just a moment, but it was the first time she looked at him with anything but animosity in years. Joel had his girls, safe, warm, with him, for the first time in a lifetime.

I had to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes there, I was crying so much while rereading this.

Thank you SO MUCH for this series. I can't say it enough. One of my favorite series ever ❤️❤️❤️

Nights Like This One: XXV.

"He looked at her, and he loved her, loved her so much it burned, like something eternal, something that no amount of time, nor distance, nor the end of the world as they had known it, could kill off. He'd loved her, perhaps, since that first moment he saw her, looking hollow and bereft on the threshold of her mother's house. He loved her in every death, every birth, every reiteration of himself."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 9.5k a.n. this is the last full chapter. i'm so bereft knowing it's almost over. i don't know if i've ever been so emotionally invested in a story i've written before like i have this one. i literally cried writing the last few paragraphs. i hope you love it. i hope it mends you. i hope it balms the pain i've put you through over the past couple months. thank you so very much for reading. epilogue will be out soon. ily <3

Read on AO3

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[dreamytfw]

Something something Hob Gadling is what Morpheus wished Orpheus had done with his immortality boon something angsty meta I'm too sleep deprived to fully flesh out/articulate

[zhongrin]

hello sweeties! i'm going back home today to take a whole two-weeks++ break from everything, which will probably include actively posting in general.

i might still pop in to ramble and scrumble sometimes, but i want to try harder to be present at the moment so i can spend lots of quality time with my family and recharge! meanwhile, my queue will run as per usual. if you leave any asks/replies/mentions, i may see it, but i might only reply once my mini-holiday concludes.

thank you always for your support and i hope to see you again all refreshed and de-stressed ✨🩷

[lottieurl]

"mid" night? i find it quite beautiful

[thebigoblin]

On The Dance Floor

tags: Not Scott McCall Friendly, Inspired by a Song, Oneshot, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Getting Together, The Hale Pack 2.0, Fluff, Minor Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall

a/n: found this in my drafts tagged as "complete." figured i'll post this as a lil weekend treat <3 so cleaned it up a bit. i'll post this on ao3 tomorrow ig. also, real enemy is giving fics a fucking title.

now you can also read this fic on ao3.

White, marble tiles are eaten up by his black, formal shoes, his movements a little hurried as he veers off another corner of this event hall, almost braining himself against the wall. He stops just at the right moment, curses his clumsiness, and continues walking down the empty hallway to the dressing room. Everyone else is already in the main hall, sitting on the chairs, and Stiles Stilinski was there only moments before, so he knows they're waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Except, his dad is getting cold-feet, and despite Scott's attempts at being normal around his soon-to-be stepfather, and being a shoulder to lean on, the cold-feet is getting worse. At least, that's what Derek texted him, a short, concise depiction of whatever the hell must be happening in the dressing room.

And he trusts the Alpha, so he's quick in his steps and quicker with his breaths when he does open up the door and finds his dad pacing around the decently-sized room, his suit on, and complemented by a look of absolute panic on his face.

Scott is standing off to the side, like he always seems to be these days, and he's on the opposite side of Derek, far from him, like he always was and always will be. Some people don't change, and Stiles has learned that through experience he would rather not repeat.

"Dad," Stiles says, and that's all it takes for the dam to break. His dad gives a quick glance to Scott, his once-favorite son, and then pulls both Stiles and Derek towards him, his hands a little sweaty with dread. His dad knows being close and talking low wouldn't make a difference, but it's the principle of the thing, and for one split second he wonders what 16 year old him would have thought of this fact, of Derek being his dad's chosen son, and him himself being this close to his dad. And Scott not even being privy to the beauty of this relationship.

"What if she doesn't want me to? I love Melissa, I do, but Claudia- I don't know. I had a dream yesterday, Stiles, and she was just, she was just there! Just sitting on the beach, where I proposed to Melissa, right where Melissa was sitting. Was that, like, one of your supernatural dreams? Derek, you must know something about these sort of things. I don't think she wants me to—"

Derek cuts him off with a firm, "She wants nothing but happiness for you." He gives Stiles a quick look, asking silently if this is okay, because out of the four people in this room he's the only who didn't actually know her when she was alive. Stiles nods, and Derek continues, and his dad hangs onto every word out of Derek's mouth. "Today is a big day for you, and you're nervous, and it's okay, John. That dream was just a way for your subconscious to show up — this isn't the first time you've had this thought, have you?"

"No."

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just your nerves."

Stiles smiles softly at his dad. "Mom loves you," he moves forward to bring his dad in for a patented Stilinski hug. His voice is muffled when he insists, "She loved you when she was beside you, and she loves you now that she's watching over you. And she loves Melissa, too. I know she'll be the one smiling the biggest when you say 'I Do,' today."

His dad holds on for a little longer, and Stiles knows he's holding back tears when his dad says, "Okay," with a rough voice. He pulls back, takes a deep breath, pats Stiles on the shoulder twice, the way he always does, and gives a wobbly smile to Derek. He says, "Thanks, son," to both of them before looking at himself in the mirror.

"You look amazing."

"I'm so glad Lydia's mom was able to modify your original suit into this," Stiles adds to Derek's compliment, and Derek nods, repeats the sentiment of his dad looking amazing.

Scott chimes in, too, and his dad gives him a small smile. The relationship with him is strained, and if it was any other day Scott wouldn't even be in Beacon Hills, but it's his mom's wedding day, too. Stiles allows this one day, and if he didn't, he can't really stop Scott from being here. This is his hometown, too. They have their differences, yes, but they also have a past, together and also not, stemming from this same town.

Stiles has no right to where Scott does or does not go.

Derek, on the flip side, with his red eyes and ancestral blood running through his veins, roots sprouting from this town's soil, has no such qualms. Derek and Scott share a past, too, and it defines their present more than anything else could have.

Stiles' dad says he'll be out in just a minute, can they wait outside please, and all three of them step out. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Scott.

"When are you leaving?"

Scott is instantly angry. He has always hated Derek, no matter the truth. Logic was always Stiles' friend first and Scott's second, and without Stiles, Scott is just a ball of emotions being hit by the bat of daddy and authoritative issues.

Derek has a right to know. It is his prerogative. This is his land, his territory, his packmate's wedding. Scott was banished — run off, really, and now he's back. Derek has a right to know when he'll leave, irrespective of Scott's hesitation to tell him.

But, the years have done Scott good. Instead of yelling, making a scene, he takes a breath in. Stiles wonders what or who his anchor is, and promptly decides it's not something he cares to know. He watches Scott get himself under control, enough that when he speaks his voice is almost emotionless.

All or nothing. That was what Scott was, and still is. He's changed, but not really.

"Mom leaves for her honeymoon tomorrow, and I need to take stuff from home."

Derek raises his right eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

Scott gives a tight smile. "It is if you just learn to stop when you should."

Before Derek can say anything, Stiles is taking the two steps to stand right beside his Alpha, disbelief coloring his face and words as he lets out, "Are you seriously threatening him?"

Scott just looks at him. The look is unreadable. It hurts, this distance between them, when Stiles remembers fantasizing about being not two feet apart on a porch in their late, late years, drinking to the years and cheers they must have had in their shared lives. Derek shakes him out of that thought with a gentle touch to his hand, their arms trapped between their bodies, and he relaxes.

Derek looks at Scott. His eyes turn red, brilliant red, and he orders, "Leave by Wednesday afternoon."

Today is Sunday.

And his dad's wedding day. His dad, who chooses this moment to come out, looking much better, and happier, and assured. He looks at the scene in front of him, the three of them, Scott on one side, alone. Him and Derek, side by side, on the opposite side of Scott.

He claps his hands.

"Who is ready to cry today?"

*

They all cry.

The ceremony is simple, but beautiful. The whole town is here, the wedding off their Sheriff, and the nurse who is so lovely, so kind. They are an inspiration, they all murmur, Derek tells him; second chances at love are rare, and this is beautiful, and who knew there exists beauty in the depths of tragedy?

His dad cries when he watches Melissa come down the aisle, Ms. Martin on one side and Scott on the other. Her best friend and her son, and for once, Stiles doesn't mind Scott's presence.

Melissa is smiling, eye to eye, her wedding gown fitting her perfectly.

She stands in front of his dad and says, "Oh, John," with such reverence, it's hard to not cry. Stiles has to put his hand in front of his mouth, but it's futile. Derek, the jerk, repeats those words, the ones he is hearing from every corner of the hall, and by the time Stiles has a dad and a stepmom officially, he's crying happy tears.

Lydia hugs him and tells him now it's his turn to find her mom somebody, too, and he agrees, only half-listening to her. He's staring at the big, gigantic grin on his dad's face, a matching one on Melissa.

Everyone congratulates him and the newlyweds, and then it's food and chatter and toasts, and everyone is surprised when Derek gives the first toast instead of Stiles, and Scott is supposedly not giving one at all.

Derek's toast is short, but no less lovely. He calls John a great man, one with utmost patience, and of course Derek would find a way to make a dig at Stiles; he says he has no clue how John and Claudia had strength enough to be patient with Stiles around, and that perhaps it is that tenacity, that will, that has brought about the proceedings of today. Of not giving up, even when the world is stacked against you. Of staying strong, in the face of everything falling apart. Of falling apart but coming back stronger, steadier. Of finding love after all of that. And coming from Derek, of all people, it means a whole lot, and Stiles' dad hugs Derek post-speech tightly.

When they pull apart, Derek says into the mic, but with eyes on Stiles' dad, "She's just as proud of you as Stiles is. As I am."

And then it's his turn to give a toast, and he's not sure how he can outdo Derek; as he stands up in front of the mic, he realizes he doesn't want to.

He gives a few funny anecdotes of his childhood, of how his dad taught him to always have hope, because good people get good things, even if it takes long. And how Melissa was always there, a second mom to him right from the start, and how much he loves her and is glad she's still in his life, despite the years, despite the circumstances. The crowd gets intrigued at that, aware of the distance between Scott and his mom, and Stiles too; all of Beacon Hills knows about the rift, but only a hand few know the cause of it as well. So, for him to mention the distance, to publicly acknowledge it, is a big thing.

He moves right the fuck on, makes jokes and smiles and cries, admits he'll always miss his mom, but that he'd always hoped, deep in his heart, that when the grief becomes tolerable he'd be the one to make the two of them marry each other.

"You got there first," he jokes, "Had the ring all picked out even before I could start trying to convince you to ask her out. Honestly, that might have been the second best decision you've ever made." None of them have to ask what the first was. It's obvious; Stiles knows his mom's wedding ring sits inside his dad's shirt, on a necklace, his own beside it.

Melissa gives a toast, too. She reminisces the first time she met Claudia, how they became friends, and how, at the time, it was impossible to imagine a life without her.

Before her little speech, to everyone this was her and John's day, but it's clear to them now that it's not just that. To the newlyweds it's a promise to Claudia; Melissa's once best friend and his dad's first love. To be happy. To live.

There's more hugs, more cheers, the champagne popping, and a quick, impromptu speech by Scott, who was fuming at being outdone like this by not just Stiles, but also Derek.

His speech is not bad, per se. Angry jerks of his chin, wild eyes and noticeable pauses. It's not bad. It just looks bad in comparison.

Stiles will definitely rot in hell for finding this funny, but at least he won't be the only one. The whole pack is trying not to laugh, and Stiles has to hide his own in the lapels of Derek's suit, who in turn hides his laughter in Stiles' hair.

Stiles feels bad, once or twice. But Scott made his bed and he's lying on it.

And then, after that, there's the first dance. There's the open dance floor and little kids asking Derek sweetly if he'll dance with them. He's their favorite, and it's adorable, and Stiles takes a thousand pictures.

Derek is in a sharp suit, and the juxtaposition of him dancing with young children, in princess dresses and printed suits — one kid had a yellow, minion-print suit, and honestly, that kid, Darren, pulled it off well — all colorful to his black shirt, black blazer, and black pants, is just so...

Good.

Derek's whole face is lit up, the golden glow of the lights all around them putting him in an ethereal spotlight, his eyes soft, mouth curved up, and nose adorably scrunched as he tries to decipher the babbling of a two-year-old.

The mom of the kid comes to get the boy, profusely apologizing, but Derek just smiles and says it's okay. It was no issue, it's okay, no need to apologize at all.

"Right," she says, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. "I'll let you get back to your partner then." And it's clear she means him.

Derek doesn't correct her, and neither does he. She leaves, and in this corner of the room, it's just them now. Most kids are tired, now, and most guests have left. It's mostly just the closest friends of Melissa and his dad, and the pack, of course, who are here.

Derek turns to him, his eyes still soft, which somehow get more soft when he looks at Stiles. It takes his breath away, and he lets out a squeaky, "Let's dance?" He's almost 25, the "adult" age according to the internet, and he still acts like a high school kid with a fucking crush.

Derek just makes him feel that way.

Derek, who is going to be 30 in less than a week, the big decade, the big, bad wolf. Derek, who blushes, his cheeks pinkish red behind his stubbled face, and puts out a hand.

Stiles takes the offered hand, his heart dancing inside his ribcage. And onto the stage they go, to the applause of the pack, and his dad's, "Finally!"

Stiles blushes, too. It's just their luck to get on the floor when it's a slow dance song.

Derek wastes no time, like he can't think or he'll explode, and puts his left hand on Stiles' waist, his right on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles puts both his hands around Derek's neck, and the alpha leans into the touch. This, the blatant trust, the welcomeness of it, is what bolsters Stiles.

They move to the slow beat, their eyes on each other's like white on rice, and everything else just doesn't exist. It's just them, and only them. No one else exists, not when they do, this close.

They move closer still, their hips touching, their foreheads against each other's. Noses touching close.

"Hey," he says, and grins when Derek does.

"Hey," Derek says back, so close that Stiles feels in his bones the word shape itself in Derek's mouth.

The music changes, then, and Stiles recognizes this one from the very first beat of it. Of course he does. It's Derek's favorite song ever.

"Did you bribe the DJ to play Apocalypse?"

Derek laughs, a quick, short one, and Stiles watches the movement of it, the beauty of Derek Hale laughing. "What if I did?"

Before Stiles can say anything, the line, "kisses on the forehead of lovers," comes on, and Derek takes a step back, only to kiss Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles' breath stops in his throat. Derek closes the gap between them again, and sways them to the beat. Stiles just follows his lead, his face having stuck itself on an astonished smile, and by the time the song is over he's just hugging Derek, tight, close, forever and ever and ever close.

Derek hums the song right in his ear, and it's perfect, Derek's breath on him, his grip, his eyes on him.

Stiles takes a step back and just looks into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," Derek says softly. They don't need words. Just this, a moment to themselves, where nothing but them exists.

Stiles doesn't even have a clue what song is playing. All he hears is Derek. His unspoken trust and devotion, his soul half of Stiles', Stiles' own soul half of Derek's. Their mingling breaths, because they're still close, just a hair apart from being one.

"Hey," he repeats, and they're both moving forward, Derek's hands on Stiles' waist, his own around Derek's neck, and they kiss.

It's gentle and slow, like time doesn't exist, could never take from them, this moment infinite, their love defying the laws of the universe and stopping time.

Because this is it. This is love, theirs and theirs only, part of its definition somewhere in the noises Stiles is making, part of it in the way Derek is touching him, moving his hands around Stiles' body, up and down, up and down, caressing him close and closer still.

Because isn't that what love is? Finding meaning in another?

After what feels like a lifetime, Derek pulls back. "Your lips, my lips, apocalypse," Derek hums against his lips, and they're so close, one breath two beings close, Stiles feels the movement of Derek's lips against his.

He lets out a small laugh. Derek swallows it down with another kiss, this one urgent, and time stills, again. Nothing exists, but this, and this moment only. Them. Arms around one another, devouring lips, tight grip, closed eyes, and peace.

They pull apart, foreheads resting against each other's, and Stiles opens his eyes to Derek's soft gaze. On him, through him, for him. He smiles, takes Derek's hand in his, dislodging it from its previous position on Stiles' waist, and brings it up to kiss the open palm of this man, who is radiant in this moment, glowing, almost, with happiness.

"Best day ever," Derek says, and he hums only the tune this time, and this time, Stiles sings the lyrics.

"Your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

"We did think it would take, like, a severe life or death situation for you two to get your shit together."

The sudden reality of a third person existing, and slowly, the reality of them being in the middle of a public dance floor in front of people has them flinching and moving apart.

"Kind of glad that didn't actually occur," Lydia continues, unperturbed.

"Definitely glad," his dad agrees.

"I do prefer you two getting together on my wedding day instead of my ER room, actually." Melissa adds.

Derek and Stiles both stare at their pack — Lydia, grinning eye to eye, a wine glass in her hand. John and Melissa beside her, their hands clasped, laughing at Derek and Stiles' wide-eyed gaze. Isaac clicking a hundred pictures of them, Erica with her full-red lips and a plate filled with food. Boyd beside his wife, hand on her shoulder, and Jackson leaning against Danny, smirking at the two of them. Cora is looking at them, that Hale look of absolute mischief. Kira and Malia have probably gone home — and nope, here they come, with a...

"Is that a banner?" Derek asks, aghast, and Stiles is right there with him. Because that fucking banner reads STEREK WINS.

"What the fuck?"

Peter comes out from the shadows, and Stiles tries to be happy about the fact that his appearance surprised everyone else present too, not just him and Derek.

"Thanks for making me win the bet. Really appreciate the $5."

"Bet?!"

His dad answers his unasked question. "We all figured you two would get together sometime during our wedding. Maybe during or after. It was just a matter of when." He points to where Malia and Kira are putting the banner up, right beside the one that says, JUST MARRIED!!! "Most of us figured the week following today, but Peter, Lydia, and Kira are the only ones who doubled down on the day being today itself."

"We're going to share our anniversary!" Melissa exclaims, happy.

Derek and Stiles just stare.

Derek turns towards him. He cocks an eyebrow up. Stiles nods with quick movements of his head.

"We, uh, are gonna go," Stiles says to the hall at large. "Have fun with your... bet, I guess. Dad, Melissa, love you guys, the rest of you, fuck off." Everyone laughs.

"We'll talk about anniversary plans later, Melissa," Derek says, and Stiles finger guns at her before realizing how stupid it looks.

Luckily, Derek picks him up, fireman carry style, and swoops him away.

Stiles groans against Derek's back. "Doofuses. Serious doofuses."

"Us or them?"

Stiles thinks. "All of us," he decides. "All of us, Derek. How the fuck were we so stupid to wait so long to get together?" They don't need to really discuss it — the kiss was just a precursor. "And why the fuck do they have to be so... ugh."

"They're still laughing," Derek says, as if that would help. "Doofuses," he agrees.

And then they're in the Jeep, Derek's camaro probably to be taken home by Isaac, and they're alone and when Derek drops him gently on the seat, Stiles lunges up to kiss.

"You make me fucking feral," Derek admits against his lips, and hey, Stiles loves where this is going. "I love you."

The words are nothing, really, but an arbitrary combination of English lexicon. But there is a meaning it — so many touches, so many moments shared between the two of them. Time spent in presence or in thoughts. All of it, leading up to this. These three words that make Stiles giddy.

"I love you too, and we really were doofuses."

"Wanna be doofuses on my bed?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Stiles speeds it out of the parking lot of the event hall, and they do, in fact, act like doofuses on Derek's bed.

They make-out, they throw down their clothes, and they pour out their hearts with every touch, every caress, every moan; they kiss and laugh and confess, touch and worship and love.

They map out each other's bodies and lean in, snuggle, and sleep.

If all apocalypses could be so lovely, it would be great, really.