#and i think maybe creature? she really wants babies so like.

[bixthenix]

i’m deep in crunch time hell rn but after i survive my deadlines i rly wanna draw a TLOU cherik au that’s been haunting me for a few weeks now. hear me out:

a very young and recently married erik losing magda and his newborn daughter as soon as hell breaks loose. probably in the same way that joel lost sarah, the thing is he has pure contempt and hatred for the army/goverment and when he is recluted by shaw he doesn’t hesitate a second to join the fireflies (aka the brotherhood).

at the same time charles was 12 when the pandemic broke and he became an orphan after his parents got killed in the outbreak (ALSO brian xavier was a scientist who at some point experimented on his son so maybe in this au he had something to do with the accidental spreading of cordyceps and later on charles immunity).

so anyway, charles grows up in a fedra facility being brainwashed by propaganda along with his adopted sister raven, he works for fedra and truly believes the government is trying to do good (he’s too brainwashed and naive to see how corrupted they all are). he thinks his sister is on the same page as him but eventually finds out raven secretly joined the fireflies and ofc charles loses his shit, begs her to see reason but deeply he knows how stubborn his sister is and nothing he says will get through that thick skull of hers. in the end after a rly long screaming match he reiterates his resolute disapproval of her decisions but promises to not snitch her out or get in the way as long as raven takes care of herself and doesn’t kill innocent people while she’s engaging in any of the terrorist shit the fireflies do. then the mall fiasco happens, the siblings get bitten and decide to wait for their end as they hold hands. but while raven succumbs to the infection, to charles pure shock and agony he realizes he still has a consciousness (and yes, charles is forced to kill his infected baby sister). he’s eventually found by the fireflies and taken by them

at first here i wanted the story to follow the TLOU canon where after discovering charles’ immunity the fireflies decide to take him, but i really love the kansas city arc in the show and it got me thinking of something like this happening here. what if there is a coup at the new york settlement and fedra fell to the fireflies? but the thing is this fraction of the fireflies is leaded by shaw who is a ruthless psychopath and turns the settlement into a living hell for fedra prisoners and citizens. like complete anarchy and law of the jungle kind of shit, and the fedra prisoners get the worst of it: public parades that end up with prisoners getting linched, raped, dismembered, etc. shaw even goes as far as to making an arena sort of coliseum filled with infected creatures just to throw the prisoners in there and watch how they all succumb to the virus in the cruelest way.

as much as erik hates fedra he doesn’t fuck with the kind of torture porn shaw is inflicting on these people but he and some other members of the fireflies who don’t agree with these barbaric methods can’t do anything about it bc they all have to bend to what shaw says. that is until charles is one of the fedra prisoners who is taken and thrown into the cells awaiting to be subjected to shaw’s torture. erik doesn’t know charles but he recognizes his name: raven was erik’s partner when she joined the fireflies and he knows that her brother is the only family in the world she got. erik has little to no love for a fedra agent but he feels he owes this to raven so when a group of shaw’s men enter charles’ cell to ‘have fun with him’ erik decides to step in and confronts shaw. he informs him about charles being related to one of their fireflies sisters and tries to argue for a lesser punishment for him, or for at least to keep him in a cell without being subjected to rape, torture or death. shaw, always the son of a bitch he is, delightfully agrees to this and decides to throw charles into the arena full of infected just to fuck with erik. he says he’s being fair and that if charles survives the arena he gets to walk away.

charles is thrown into the arena with no weapons but his wits and against all odds he survives the assault. shaw is irritated by this but decides to keep his promise and free charles, that is until they see the bite marks on his arms. and then they find even older bite marks that he got weeks ago at the mall, when raven died in his arms. there is no question about what these mean and shaw decides to lock charles again and test if what he thinks that is happening here is true. erik is also bewildered, he thinks this is all some kind of sick joke and charles will turn into a grotesque monster in a matter of hours, but a week goes by and charles is very much the same (though very much annoyed that they have kept him monitored in a cell, but at least no one dares to get close to him to either torture him or rape him fearing he will infect them as well).

while shaw is debating what to do with charles, erik is approached by emma frost who heads a small fraction of the fireflies in new york that disagree with shaw’s methods. emma informs erik that there is a secret lab in a firefly base back in utah where they can make something out of charles’ immunity and create a cure. she then tells him she will free charles and deal with shaw for the time it takes them to get the fuck out of new york only if erik promises he will take charles with him and drive him to this lab in utah.

erik doesn’t know how the fuck this happens, he always minded his own business while being a firefly, never questioned anything that was asked of him bc he truly believed in the cause, that all the people he killed in the name of the fireflies was purposeful. yet the only fucking time he decided to speak up for raven’s fedra agent brother of all people he gets dragged into some shitfest and is suddenly in charge of driving some guy across the country while shaw’s lackeys go after him.

and the thing is that even if their love for raven and hatred for shaw should unite them, erik and charles really dislike each other. actually no, they DESPISE each other and the road trip is nothing but pure antagonism emanating from both parties: erik calls charles fedra scum and can’t believe someone as brave and strong as raven had a brother who is such a deluded coward. and charles calls erik a terrorist pig who is probably as sick and depraved as shaw. but eventually as the months in the road go by, the animosity between the two deflates and they begin to really know the other one. erik realizes charles is more than a pair of pretty blue eyes and a cure to humankind, but a deeply empathetic person who truly believes there exists light during these dark times. and charles discovers that under his cold and ruthless front there is so much good in erik. he saw a glimpse of that when erik saved him from being violated by shaw’s men but now he really sees how serious erik is about protecting those he calls family. eventually and by surprise of no one they fall in love. they confide in each other: charles talks about raven and erik speaks magda and anya’s name for the first time in decades. they continue their journey across the country with this precious thing between them.

that is until they reach utah and erik finds out what emma was planning to do with charles from the moment she sent them both away

the thing is erik is 100% aligned with the fireflies’ ideals despite hating shaw with every fiber of his. he believes in the cause and would actually do anything that is asked of him. and if this had happened 6 months ago right after leaving new york he would have gone with it without question. but after spending every night in the last half of the year being held in charles’ arms? if finding a cure for humankind would mean charles dying then fuck humankind. he would betray his brothers and sisters in a heartbeat if it means saving his lover, even if charles ends up hating him afterwards

[astoriacolumnstaircase]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65623918/chapters/168967282

They probably overpaid for the mule. She was a little old, a little stubborn, with a sad dun colored coat that faded into the sad dun colored farm they bought her from, but Imogen was certain that a mule was the right thing for Laudna. They weren’t as skittish as horses, and while this mule was the first mule they met in their quest for an animal for Laudna to ride, Imogen assured Laudna that this mule really was perfect. (And not just because she nuzzled into Imogen’s shoulder within minutes of their introduction.)

Laudna held her hand gingerly out to the creature who sniffed and turned away and stamped her hooves.

“She just needs to get used to you,” said Imogen, who was already the mule’s favorite person in the entire world. The mule was pushing herself between them, cutting Laudna away from the most important woman in the entire world, and Imogen was laughing softly at the creature’s antics, the traitor. “You can see she’s a real sweetheart.”

“Animals like you.”

“They like you, too, when they get a chance to know you. I don’t know anyone else who can keep a hive of bees in her chest.”

Laudna bared her teeth. “They’re ghost bees. Or, maybe undead bees? I don’t know where they come from. Or the dog.�� She scratched her long nails against the scar along her chest and wondered if the hound stored in her ribcage even liked her, or if it only obeyed her out of gratitude for its occasional freedom. “I don’t think they count.” She turned her scowl on the mule. “I thought, as a fellow abomination, we’d have some kind of inherent rapport.”

Imogen gasped. “You’re not abominations,” she said, babying the mule and scratching behind her ear. “The family’s been calling her Daisy but she don’t answer to it, so you can choose a different name if you want. Maybe you’ll help her find the right one!”

Laudna let some black creep into her eyes as she gave the mule a wide stare. That creature couldn’t be further from a daisy if it came from Ruidis. What a terrible name. “Side Salad,” she said definitively, and the mule flicked its ear and looked its large wet eyes at Laudna.

“I like it,” said Imogen. “What about you, Side Salad?” The mule bumped her nose against Imogen’s hand. “She loves it.”

In which Laudna feuds with mule. Continued on ao3.

[simplepotatofarmer]

i truly wanted to write today but i'm exhausted. i had to shovel a lot of snow from around the run and then i spent like. four solid hours just being sad about watson. <3 <3 but! i'm really excited for the prospect of hatching cluck and brittney m. crockpot eggs this spring! :D

[bnyf]

baby you're my bunny ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒ bunny boy x female reader

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, slight body horror me thinks? slight horror, perverted yandere, non consensual touching, suggestive, uhhh that's it me thinks :3

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : so sorry if it's badly written also sorry if it ends weird :/

no survival instinct what's-so-ever. like... none.

but he was not complaining! it was just a mere observation. perhaps you were unaware of your allure, maybe you were not exposed to the cruel world yet, didn't know how sick people and creatures can be.

well for one... your little secret admirer was not one of those adorable bunnies you'd fawn over, nothing even close really. and no, he's not some cute boy with a bunny tail and some bunny ears. he's far from cute, a little scary actually.

humanoid? sure! typical bunny boy hybrid, uhhhh not really lol! he's mixed with human genetics but he's not quit. and for a bunny hybrid, he sure had a lot of predator instincts.

to put simply, he was an abnormality of mother nature. his lower half resembled a bunny whilst his torso and up is that of a man. his claws on his feet or paws or whatever are dangerously long, digging into the dirt whenever he walks, leaving behind a "too small to notice unless your looking for it" trail.

a muscular, lean build, biceps so perfect and manly hands to hold you down if you even ever think of escaping, awe how sweet of him <3

completely pale skin with small patches of equally pale fur in various spots, completely crimson, blood shot eyes and a pair of floppy bunny ears where any normal human's ears would be.

how did he even came to be? you may ask. well he was a normal boy, once upon a time. but one day, he'd gotten into a serious accident, a near death life experience. that day he could've hear the bells of heaven ringing in his ears but he wasn't ready to die, not like this... in his head he begged for more time, asking whatever god above to answer his prayers.

and yeah! his prayers where answered but, as they say, be careful what you wish for...

the moon goddess answered his prayers, but she also cursed him for it is the price he must pay to live longer.

"i grant you more time, as much time as you may need, but for as long as you roam his earth, your soul belongs to me and your purpose, is to server me," her voice rang in his ears like a bittersweet melody before he'd lose consciousness.

when he awake, he found himself in the mountains, he was a monstrosity of a man and dared not step a foot into society. he's to bare this curse and blessing till death.

he became easily bored and clueless as to what to do next, his every day life felt null and everything felt too much to bare. his eternity just began yet he dreads his mistake with every passing day.

"maybe, i should of just accepted my faith and die that day..."

with nothing and no one, he was left to wonder the mountain and serve the goddess by praying to her and tending to her shrine everyday, he's trapped to keep her energy going so she won't become a forgotten god.

(guys i made the lore up on a whim so bare with me even i'm confused right now :0)

anyways! everything drastically changed for our boy here when you and your family decided to move to the village nearby in the rural area, and live a peaceful life and just run a nice little farm hooray! hopefully, you don't get stalked and preyed on by a lonely scarily tall bunny male hybrid who looks like a utterly angelic, celestial eldritch horror, right?

all he could think about was a pretty girl had moved in next door and he just had to watch her from afar. most the villagers were very welcoming of you and your family, it was big talk because such a pretty girl had just moved in the small village and all the villagers wanted their sons or grandsons to get married.

it doesn't have much young people, mostly elders and young children and even less marriageable women. which is why you easily became popular, with everyone always gifting you things, begging you to marry into their family. they even had a town welcome celebration for you and your family!

he watched everything from afar. feeling a slight sting in his chest. jealous? already? of course he is, he wanted you all for himself. for countless nights, he just couldn't sleep at all.

he spent all his time admiring you from afar. the way he'd blush, his heart beat fastening, the gears in his head would just slow down a bit. gosh, he actually felt his heart warm so much it'd burn in his chest.

he wanted you badly.

you were his new source of entertainment, motivation and inspiration all in one and his mind was melting with how needy he started becoming.

"what the f- she's so kind and pretty..."

"i wanna hug her, wanna kiss her, feel her skin on mine, love her, fuck her."

"she can be my little bunny princess~"

"wonder what our babies would look like? i'm getting heated just thinking about it"

it didn't help much when he found out you adored bunnies and would play with them near the spring. fawning over the little fluffy creatures, hugging them and petting them. and when you held them in your arms and give smooches while rubbing your face on their fluffy fur?!?!?

that's where his obsession becomes almost to much to bare, his entire chest area felt so warm watching you treat those bunnies with so much love.

"everything about her is so perfect, i'm starting to crave her like crazy right now."

"wanna whisk her away, take her, lock her up and keep her all to myself."

his mind starts getting clouding with so many dark thoughts of you.

and so, he start pushing boundaries and going outside his comfort zone to appease his little appetite that consist of you. at night, he sneaks in to steal a closer glance at you and probably a few things so he can remember your scent properly.

the whole house was dark, the whole village asleep by the time it was midnight hour. he'd manage to get in somehow somewhere but when he did, he immediately went to your room.

finally. he could smell and touch you as much as he wanted, his mind was actually in ecstasy when he entered your room, your scent gracing his nostrils as soon as he did, and the poor touch starved male couldn't hold back on touching you various parts of your skin.

"how delightful, her skin is so smooth and her hair feels so good, she smells like flowers all over gosh so fucking perfect, i wanna devour her, drink her up, chew her, spit her out and do it all over again" with every slight movement you make and whimper scaping your soft lips, he can't help but hold back his own voice, he wanted to moan just by being around you, it felt so good.

after so long, why wouldn't it feel great?

to be around around someone for once, to feel the heat of another person's body, the sweet scent of someone else other than himself. he'd lay in bed with you, his larger self cuddling your smaller form as smells your hair, trailing his hands all over you.

he was getting ahead of himself.

it takes everything within him to not proceed and do something to you while in your sleep. his morals along with his sanity were drifting away more and more.

time flies by when you're enjoying yourself, before he knew it he had to leave before the sun raises. forcing himself he does but he also takes like 5 things from you.

"promise i'll return your belongings my love, i just need a little souvenir to help myself with."

the poor thing gets sent into an early heat after that little interaction. he's embarrassed a little but he really needs you, like he really does. and he thinks of ways of introducing himself but... he's a monster, you would run from him and be scared. and when that thought comes to mind it makes him... sad.

"if i'd die that day, i'd never meet her, never be able to see her, but now that i'm alive with the help of the moon goddess, i can't even act normal about her. it's like i'm truly doomed."

this realization was tough. it made him sick to think about. and for a while, he was just okay with sneaking in to see you, and holding your unconscious body but he wanted a lot more, and he wanted your acceptance and love. he wanted you to want him the way he wants you.

it hurt even more when he mistakenly glanced in the mirror only to see a 6 feet tall, half human half hybrid bunny with a deadly eerie looking bloody stare, stare right back at him.

the pale moonlight leaking on him, hitting his skin almost making it look silver.

"she'd surely fear me, she'd run."

he's such a beautiful tragedy. would you be able to appreciate that?

[nicolewritesthings]

Love potions & babies

Summary: Steve thinks his witchy girlfriend put a spell on him, so he crashes her babysitting gig

a/n: had some free time today and this idea came to me! Just a one shot with boyfriend steve.

Two dumb, horny teenagers in love; Steve Harrington x reader

—————————————————————————

Fall was your favorite time of year, especially in Hawkins, when the leaves turned and the air chilled.

You were always into the macabre, the occult things, partly because your mom fully believed in psychics and astrology, and partly because you found it funny when Steve called you his little witch.

This sentiment came out more during the fall of course, when your “witchiness” was at an all time high.

You made Steve watch all your favorite horror movies and read your favorite ghost stories. You told him the cycles of the moon and he even learned his birth chart, well he had it written down in his wallet in case you quizzed him.

He loved this spooky little side of you that not many people saw. To everyone else you were the typical girl next door, cheerleader - which really through Steve for a loop, the town’s best babysitter.

Which is what you were doing Friday night instead of hanging out with Steve. You were watching the Conrads’ six month old baby while they went on a date night.

They had a nice house at the end of your block. Big tv, tons of movies, and endless snacks, a babysitter’s dream. Their baby, Elsie, was the easiest baby you’ve ever watched. She fussed when she was hungry or tired but that’s about it.

So the two of you played on the family room floor while reruns of Bewitched ran on in the background. Witchy, yet family friendly.

Over at the video store, Steve was listening to Robin vent about her latest interaction with Vickie.

“She’s nice, but not like nice nice to me,” Robin rambled on, “like only nice in a friend way.”

Steve scrunched his eyebrows together, “are you also being nice to her in a friend way?”

Robin paused, genuinely stumped by this question. She goes back to think about their interactions and groans, “maybe. Shit, should I flirt with her? Or is that coming on too strong?”

“Just do whatever comes natural,” Steve smiled, “she’ll get the hint.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, “not everyone can flash their smile at a girl and make her swoon, Harrington.”

“I smile at one girl only, thank you very much,” he leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Whatever, this is never going to work and I’ll die alone,” Robin huffed dramatically.

Steve tilted his head, thinking about you and your books and fake magic. “What if you do a love spell?” He asked, half joking, half serious.

Robin eyed him, “your girl is really rubbing off on you, dude.”

Steve shrugged, “I’m just saying, this manifestation stuff works. She wanted more money to buy concert tickets and then she gets a baby gig. Or like the time she really didn’t feel good about the chem exam and boom, the teacher postpones it.”

He’s elated now, thinking of all the times you used your witchy powers to make things happen for yourself. He knows it sounds ridiculous, but because you believe it, so does he.

Robin smirks, “is that how she got you then? A love spell?”

Steve pauses. He had never considered that possibility. That would be crazy, wouldn’t it? Spells don’t work and magic isn’t real. But you did really want those Stones tickets and by the grace of god you got them.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed as he contemplates how you two got together. It all seemed pretty normal, you had been helping your neighbor Dustin when his little “pet” turned into a demidog. Next thing you know, you and Steve were stuck in a school bus with a bunch of kids you used to be babysit, fighting a pack of otherworldly creatures.

You knew this spooky shit was real.

Then you were paired with Steve as lab partners which led to a whole semester of bickering and watching those damn kids. He didn’t know exactly when his feelings for you turned from platonic to something more. But as his graduation approached, your actions toward each other progressed past friendly.

Stolen glances over homework, study sessions turned into late night burger runs, movie nights with the kids, cuddling when they all fell asleep. Consoling him when he didn’t get into a single college and talking over what his future could look like, how he had so many possibilities.

A small part of you was glad Steve wasn’t moving away from Hawkins any time soon. You got another year with him, which is selfish you knew that. But you had more time to simply just be with him, in whatever way that was.

Then summer came and it was hotter than usual. While plenty of memorable things happened that summer, Steve shamelessly can only remember your bright red bikini straps, pushing them to the side and rubbing tanning oil on your already sunkissed shoulders. The smell of coconut and chlorine still fresh in his memory.

You spent the whole summer at either his pool or at the mall while he worked, not wanting to be apart for more than a few hours.

The more Steve thought about this, the more it started to sound like you did put a spell on him. But no, that was just your charm, the way you always had a light touch on him, your damn Cherry red bikini.

Then the thing with the Russians happened and the mindflayer came crashing in and Billy died and the worst night of your lives came to an end. He drove you to his place where you patched him up and climbed into bed together, barely talking and still stunned from the events of such a long couple of days.

Steve thinks that if you were to cast a spell on him it would have happened then. In his bed, you wearing nothing but his shirt and boxers, pressed into his side, limbs tangled up in one another. You looked up at him with those big eyes and told him you loved him. You weren’t sure if you meant it platonically or something more but Steve didn’t care. He knew exactly what you meant because he felt it too. In the face of almost losing you, he knew he was in love and couldn’t resist any longer. So he cupped your face into his hands and leaned down, kissing you like you’d melt away if he wasn’t holding on. Kissing you like it’s the last thing he’d ever do.

Steve snapped back to reality and looked at Robin, eyes wide, “oh fuck maybe she did cast a spell on me.”

———————

Back at the Conrads house, you handed blocks over to Elsie as she threw them down beside her. The sun had started to set but she was still wide awake. Maybe this baby was going to be harder than you thought.

You stood up to make another bottle just as the doorbell rang, causing you to jump. You eyed Elsie like she would know who would be knocking.

You checked the peephole, finding your boyfriend going for another knock. You smirked, opening the door, “well well, couldn’t spend one night away from me, could you?”

Steve gives you a quick peck on the cheek and lets himself in. You sense a bit of panic from him as he paces into the front room.

“Did you put a spell on me?” He blurts out.

You stare at him, confused, shutting the door slowly. Elsie babbles from the floor next to him. Steve looks down quickly, almost shocked at the baby’s presence. Like he forgot why you were in your neighbors’ home.

He cracks a polite smile at Elsie, “oh, hey, how you doing?”

You laugh at his pleasantries, acting as if he’s talking to an adult and not a literal baby. But Steve’s not joking around. He’s serious as can be when he poses the question again.

“So did you? Put a love spell on me?” He asks, the panic evident in his tone.

You chuckle, “what the hell are you talking about?”

He crosses his arms, “I’m being serious.”

You eye him, straightening up a bit. You don’t want to belittle him or disregard whatever this manic episode was, so you continue on, treading lightly.

“I’m not actually a witch, Steve,” you step toward him, reaching for his arms.

He looks down at you, almost pouting, “but you always say you can do this witchy shit. Manifesting and intuition and all that.”

You pull his arms open and wrap them around you, pressing into him. You sneak a glance to Elsie, who happily slaps her blocks together. You look back up at Steve and smile, “I mean, I guess I’ve been manifesting you since I was a little girl.”

Steve looks at you, confused.

You continue, “I would always dream about what my future man would be like. Tall, nice hair, stroooong.” You drag out the last word as Steve lightens up, gladly accepting your compliments.

“Smart, funny, rich,” you laugh. Steve rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah.”

You gently hold the back of his neck, playing with his hair, “seriously though, I’ve always dreamed of falling in love with someone like you. Little did I know he was just a few blocks away the whole time.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” he quotes the words you say way too often to him, making you smile big.

“See!” You kiss him quick, “you’re starting to really get it now!”

You pull away from him and turn your attention back to Elsie, sitting down and taking her into your lap. Steve joins you on the floor, awkwardly waving at the baby. She smiles toothlessly at him.

“Shouldn’t she be asleep by now?” He says, looking at his watch, “honestly I thought these people slept all day.”

“These people?” You laugh, astonished at your boyfriend, “but yes, she should be getting sleepy by now.”

You stand up, rocking her in your arms but she’s too distracted to sleep. Instead, she stares at Steve, eyes wide and completely enamored by him.

You smirk, “someone’s got a fan.”

Steve takes off his shoes and leans back on his elbows, getting comfortable. He ignores the baby and eyes the stack of movies, “they got anything good?”

“I thought you were good with kids?” You tease, rolling your eyes and trying to lull this baby to sleep but she is not having it. Elsie reaches toward the floor at Steve who looks up at the two of you.

He pauses, taking a mental photo of this moment. You holding a baby, hopefully his baby one day. God you would look hot pregnant, that’s a new one for him, he thinks.

“You look good with a baby,” he smirks, “hotter if it were mine.”

You grown, “gross, Steve. Be normal and help me put her too sleep.”

He groans, “is this how our future will be? Me trying to fuck you and you’re all busy with our ten kids?”

You shove him with your shoulder, “first of all, language. Secondly, ten kids? You’re out of your mind.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll settle for seven,” Steve shrugs.

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sure you could handle even one.”

Steve knew you were right about that. He was used to watching the kids, sure. But they were older and self sufficient. He’s maybe met two babies in his life and the first one was his cousin’s who wouldn’t stop crying and pooping. So he wasn’t exactly excited for the whole infant part of having kids.

You pushed Elsie toward him. Steve stuck his hands out, “oh no. You’re getting paid for this, not me.”

You insisted, “it’s a test. If you can put her to sleep, I’ll consider having your babies. One day.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours, a dirty thought popped into his head and he gave you a look you knew too well.

“Okay, deal,” he smirked, “but instead of having my babies one day, you let me put one in you tonight.”

You gasped, pulling Elsie back into you.

“Steve! We’re still teenagers,” you exclaimed, shocked at his insinuation. Of course you thought about your future with Steve, marrying him and having kids. But that was exactly that - the future. You couldn’t possibly have a kid now, during your senior year while you both lived with your parents. Christ, they would kill you. Both his and your parents would literally kill you.

Steve chuckled, cocky as ever, grabbing at your hip and pulling you closer, “ I know, but thinking of you having my baby is really doing something to me. Like imagining you all pregnant because of me, because you love me enough to make a baby with.”

“You’re such a sap,” you shook your head, “and a perv.”

“You love me,” he ran a hand through your hair. You nodded, god you did love him.

Elsie squealed between you two. You huffed, tired of holding her and Steve noticed. He sighed, reaching toward the baby, “c’mere. Just tell me what to do.”

You smiled, handing her off to Steve who awkwardly took her in his arms. You adjusted her position, making her more comfortable as Steve hesitantly started rocking her.

“Like this?” He asked, cautiously eying Elsie who melted into his arms immediately.

“Yeah, you’re doing great,” you encouraged, stepping back to take in the scene.

Okay, now you understood why Steve was so into the baby making thing. You couldn’t help but stare as he held Elsie in his arms, rocking and cooing her to sleep.

Steve was a natural with a baby, of course he was. He rubbed his nose against her head, softly humming, the melody faintly familiar but you couldn’t place it. He wore the black band shirt you got him, the one with tighter sleeves and slightly cropped above his waistband.

He looked funny, really. Way too young to be a dad, with his worn in denim - god he looked good in those jeans, and messy hair. But again, you got what he was feeling earlier. Excited by the promise of the future with each other.

Before you both know it, Elsie falls asleep soundly in Steve’s arms. His eyes widen and he turns to you, whispering, “holy shit! I did it!”

“You did!” You whisper back, smiling wide.

Enamored with his new accomplishment, Steve continues to rock Elsie. He turns to you, noticing your loving gaze. But he catches something in your eye. A familiar look you give him, the one he only catches when you want him.

Like when you’re at a party and suddenly buzzed and bored with everyone there, only wanting to be with your boyfriend. Preferably on a bed, but the bathroom will do. Or when he’s fresh off the basketball court, sweaty and panting, getting praise from his teammates and other students but only beelines for you.

Steve knows that look. That dirty little look.

“So, about that deal,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, letting logic guide you with this one. But it is rather fun to tease him.

You smile, “let’s resume this conversation in ten years, Harrington.”

Steve stares at you, overly content with your answer. He’s no better than a dog. The only thing running through his brain - she wants to have my babies!

Maybe you did put a spell on him, he thinks. Never in his life has he seriously thought about having children with someone and yet here he is, making ridiculous propositions while holding some stranger’s baby.

So yeah, maybe you did do your love potion magic. But thank god you did.

He cracks a smile, “promise?”

You don’t respond. Instead, lean up to kiss him softly. Definitely a promise you plan on keeping.

[hyukascampfire]

𝓐T 𝓢WA𝓝 𝓛AKE ﹐､﹒ c.bg ˏˋ੭ꠥ ¸ˎ

as both equals and opposites, white swan and black swan, it is paramount that you and choi beomgyu do not touch. the curse of your natures did not even make exception for incidental brushes. that was never an issue for you—not until the day the prince took it upon himself to break every rule you’d ever known. ⋆˛ ˛

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

⸉⋆ ᧔ 🦢᧓ ･ 10.3k

𝒫airings ˒ black swan prince!beomgyu 𝓍 white swan princess!reader

𝒢 ‎⍪ smut ˒ fantasy ˒ forbidden romance

𝒲arnings ˒ smut, angst and longing, unprotected sex, lots of teasing, jealousy…, yearning and yearning, he cums on her, theyre both desperate, pathetically in love!beomgyu, shes all he wants, virgin!reader, loss of innocence, he talks her through it, he gets a little whiny… hmm i can’t remember if i’m missing anything. this is not proofread!! i’m gonna nap first.

✎୭ ashlynn's note @hmusunoo … baby you did your big one with this. i can not explain to you how excited i’ve been for this one. this is absolutely my favorite. it’s just so me, u know me so well and i think we should kiss. THANK U!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

Around you, mist and delicate flurries sit over white, fluffy blankets. Where it sits over the lake, it turns the horizon of the lake’s expanse into an obscured uncertainty. If you hadn’t spent so much time right here, you might think that it goes on forever. 

It’s a beautiful, clear winter’s morning. Sparkling air wraps you in sweet and crisp tendrils, every breath to your lungs almost bitingly fresh. But in all its lightness, your chest only feels heavier. You had hoped that coming here would be a little, momentary respite. The air is so free around you, though, the weight doesn’t float away with it—it just leaves nothing but the feeling for you to contend with. No skittish wildlife rustle the foliage, and a thin film holds the crystalline lake from lapping at the bank. It seems that not even the wind moves. Just you.  

It’s not your tears that you hide here. Sadness is a soft, gentle thing; an acceptable thing for a Lady like yourself to indulge in. It’s what the people expect of their princess. The demure and always prim White Swan. Always correct, always just how you should be. 

Your tears are more like scalding, molten licks of fire than the slow, darling tears that are expected of you, though. They’re angry. It clashes up against the walls you’ve built up within yourself, against the role you’ve assumed. 

That’s why you’ve come here. Coarser emotions are unbecoming of you, and it’d be a shame to feel them in front of others. It’s a shame that you’re letting yourself feel it now, even. You summon a thin sigh, funneling up all the tangy bitterness on your tongue to let it fall out into the air before you. 

It doesn’t do much for you, really. This—feeling like this, so beyond the reach of your usual ways to shove down ugliness—is unfamiliar. Your entire life has been this, why do you struggle with it now? In the center of you, mingling with that anger, it’s as though a blackness blooms. Like a wretched flowering of some invasive plume, or perhaps the floating of inky black feathers through your bloodstream, you feel painted dark and unpleasant. 

Holding the dappled fur of your shawl closer, you decide to watch chunks of crystal white ice float on the water’s surface. Or maybe the on-and-off snowflakes that float down around you. Even tracing the lengths of barren branches, lined with white fluff so still and serene, with your eyes. Anything but delving into what that tainted tug inside is, or what it might mean about you.  

Snow crunches, or maybe a branch shifting, beckons your attention. But the foliage isn’t too thick, and trees are sparse around the lake, and there is always some small winged creature fluttering between branches out here. So, you brush it off. 

A tingling about your person, some sort of whispering premonition, whisps and tugs just around your form. You straighten up at another thick step crunching in the snow from behind you. This time, you can’t explain it away.  

A figure greets you. Dark, raven strands of silken hair fallen over eyes of the same, his skin so stark against it, black shoulder cloak on his shoulder flowing like velvet water against his billowing sleeves all ruffled and enamoring. He glitters like the frost, twinkling silver threads and black crystals sewn in to catch the light and make a show of him. Standing there, looking at you, he doesn’t look caught or frozen. 

But you are. Wholly still, all of you like a sculpture of frost, you gawk right at him. You’d never interacted with the prince, the black swan. Never even seen him. It was never in the cards. Fear like ice curls clawed fingers over your heart and grasps it.  

All your life, grand warnings of terrible things of him and what might happen should the two of you ever touch fell from the mouths of those around you. It was the constitution of who the two of you are—born to be the balance to each other, never to touch. Just an incidental brushing of fingers meant turning the world’s balance over on its head. They told you that the world would begin to fray at the seams, reality would warp, and that it’d be all your fault. And they also told you plenty about who the prince was as a person, too. Not only do you fear him for the curse of your nature, but also for all the nasty things you’ve heard of him. This, meeting him, was a thing of your deepest-cutting nightmares. 

And, there, he stands in front of you. 

“What are you doing out here crying?” Beomgyu says, curious eyes darting over your face. Under his gaze, you’re not sure how to feel. But you feel every last bit of it, regardless. 

You wipe at your cheek, where he must’ve seen the wet streaks glistening in the light. Summoning some poise up from where you keep it in handy, you say, “It’s no matter. I was just looking out on the snow.” You fix up your hair and your dress.  

The prince frowns, studying your face once again. Utterly unconvinced by what he finds there, he gestures toward you. “You’ve been crying, princess,” he says. “I didn’t think that lying was in the cards for you.” 

Lying? Not in the cards for you? Lying is all you do. You lie to yourself and to others more than you are honest. “Maybe, but I’m well,” you say, and then you lift the soft skirts of your dress to step without treading it in the snow. “Really, I ought to get home before the snowfall gets heavier. It was lovely seeing you.” You try and make sure to keep a good and proper distance from him as you make for where you arrived here from. 

Beomgyu reaches out for you, only pulling back from grabbing your arm at a frighteningly slim realization. “Wait,” he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he realizes what he’d almost just done. “You don’t have to leave. Why is it that you cry?” 

He’d almost touched you. That close—you’d come that close to tragedy in only the first moments of your meeting. Your heart pumps out sizzling, frantic energy that has you looking at him wide-eyed and shaken. “I think you and I both are the most aware why it’s best that I leave,” you tell him, keeping it curt. You hold your arms to you.  

Strong brows knitting, he shakes his head and takes some big steps back. The snow, sat powdery and calf-high on the ground, creaks beneath them. “I’ll stay back here,” he says. “Just don’t go. Won’t you entertain me? It’s a gentleman’s duty to help a weeping Lady.” 

You falter. The words might have you blushing and offering him a modest thank you, but the way he says it—it’s rather taunting. It’s taunting in a way that gets right up under your skin and ruffles your feathers. “And why does it bother you so?” you ask him, arching a dainty brow. You’re not even sure why he’s come out here in the first place. This is the one place that you ordain your own. It seems that not even here can you be totally alone. “They’ll have a fit if they know I was here with you.” 

The prince, with his clear, ethereal features cracking into a wicked amusement that you’re not sure how to digest, says, “Perhaps they will.” He tilts his head at you, wispy strands of hair moving over his shadowed eyes with it. “But, princess, that’s the fun in it. That they will admonish you for it. Is that why you’re crying?” 

Fun? Nothing about what your people, your parents, might do should they find that you’d not only been near but spoken to the black swan, is fun. You level him wary eyes. And, though sense tugs at your feet and asks you to get going, you do not. You do not know why. 

“I think it is.” He’s got an obnoxious tilt to his lips. “I think that’s why you cry.” 

A scoff, an abrasive and distasteful sound coming from you, falls out from your mouth. There’s that awful imprudence and temerity that you’ve heard of the black swan—everything you ought not to be. “You seem the type to know everything,” you say. 

He laughs, delighted. “Is that snark?” 

Pursing your lips as though confused, you spin spiced threads of patronization into your voice. “Not snark,” you say. “Just an observation.” 

 “Hmm.” Beomgyu slides his hands into his pockets to warm his hands. “Might I make an observation about you, princess?” 

There’s interest written all over his face—you know he’s playing some sort of game. You also know that you shouldn’t indulge him in it. Still, you do. A slight raising of your brow, or maybe the interest twinkling in your eyes, too, tells him to go on. 

“I think that you are too dutiful for your own good,” he says.  

In a slight, testy step, he inches closer. Not so close that you worry, but the two of you are not even supposed to be in the same room. Anything is too close. You mirror it with a step back. “You don’t know me,” you say. Against your better judgement, though, your lips twitch into a soft smile. The kind of smile that is insistent, no matter how you refuse it. “So, I believe your wonderings to be entirely groundless.” 

Hair blowing gently in the wisps of a winter wind and his nose and cheeks gone pink, he says, “Oh, princess. Hardly. I think we know a great deal about each other.” 

Well, that’s true enough. All your life you heard of him and your curse. You’re sure it was no different for him, no matter your differences. “And what do you know about me?” you ask.  

Beomgyu’s laugh falls out in a white puff of curling frost. “I know it’s been arranged that you’ll marry a superior Lord,” he says. He observes you. “Am I right?” 

So fast, just with that, lightness falls from your face. You hadn’t wanted to be reminded. Your feet itch to be off, so that you can feel it elsewhere. Not here; not in front of him. Leveling yourself so that your voice doesn’t come out as stilted as you feel, you say, “Yeah. You are.” 

With his eyes narrowing on you, he says, “You know, it’s weird. I’ve never seen a girl excited to be wedded look like that when it’s brought up.” 

You reign in your face and shake your head. “I am perfectly excited. It’s a blessing to be married into such a family.” As much as you smooth over the furrowing of your brows, or make your expression pleasant, it’s not so easy to tame the picking of your fingers. 

Anything other than excited, you might be. But absolutely not that. In fact, you are beyond yourself with anger, and you have nowhere to go with it. It bubbles hot just under your skin and demands a release that you cannot give. 

Being who you are, it’s been a truth you’ve known your whole life. Someday, you were going to be offered like a shiny, silver pawn to the highest bidder. And you, as the world’s white swan, are quite the enticing thing to own. You thought you’d banished the hope for a union of love right where you’d left the sense of self behind: years ago. The time’s come now, but you aren’t as at peace with it as you should be. No matter how hard you try, you are more human than you’d like to be, and far too human to be what the world expects you to be. 

If you’re going to be frank with yourself: you do not want to marry him. Living as something bought, expected to live forever as this mellowed out, poised version of yourself by the side of some man who you don’t even know or love... Of any fate you might be made to live, you think that this one is the worst. 

Beomgyu begins working on taking off his jacket, a white and pretty thing with thick, winter fabric. He offers it to you. “You don’t have to lie to me about it. Maybe them, but not me.” 

You look between him and his offering hand—his perfect features that are so elegant, and yet, there’s a wildness to him in those hard black eyes. If you didn’t already know so much about him, you might still be able to see the untamed in him. Who couldn’t? He wears it plainly; without remorse. You’re not sure how to interact with it, but, in a way, you envy him. 

Reaching out, you accept the jacket from his hand. Tentatively, with great care so as to avoid touch, but you do.  

It’s nice and soft against your frost-kissed shoulders. But it’s not enough to fix the bite against the skin on your face, so you trudge through the snow over to the sparse tree line, where the trunks might protect you better from it than the flat expanse of the lake’s surface. You press your back to a tree, and he mirrors it on the tree opposite to you. Looking over the great lake, so very serene. It twinkles with an ice film like sugar crystals atop its surface. “I guess I’m just... scared,” you say. The words come out soft and uncertain. 

He nods. Listening. So, you continue. “I don’t even know him. I haven’t spoken to my betrothed once. Maybe I’ll get to know him, and maybe he won’t be bad, but...” 

“But he’s not who you want,” Beomgyu says. “Not who you love.” 

Licking your winter-chapped lips, you eye him for a moment. You nod slowly and say, “...Yeah. I suppose it’s selfish, but...” 

Ignited, Beomgyu pushes off the tree to say, “Selfish? You give your whole life to being their saint. Maybe they think they do, but they don’t own you.” 

You, not us. Frowning, you ask him, “Are you not set for some marriage of convenience?” Marrying is different as a woman, but you don’t doubt that the prince’s family intends to strengthen alliances by offering his marriage up to some optimistic, lesser family with a daughter to bargain the way yours has done with you. Every last girl and boy born as you two have been—destined to a life bigger than yourself, a force in the world as much as you are a person—have lived just the same. All of them. Each incarnation of the white swan, and you’re sure every black swan too. The people of this world paint you as embodiments of balance and life, but use you more like power plays. Even your own parents. You were born from your mother all the same as all your siblings, but as much as it aches to admit it, you are not their child. In the back of your throat, hurt and bare anger wells up thick. 

He half laughs, half scoffs. “They could try. It doesn’t matter to me. They’d have to kill me before I do their bidding. Is it our fault that we were born this?” he says. “I’m going to live my life how I want, no matter what.” 

You tuck your hands into your sides, where they warm between the jacket and your body heat. His words and how he looks at your lives, it’s everything you’re not. Sense of self and determination to live for more than just your predetermined role—while you’d surrendered it all, he lives thrashing and fighting against it. A product of your mirrored and opposite natures.  

“Why?” you say, teeth chattering a bit under the cold’s caress. “You have a girl in mind?” 

That sounds nice. Being so hopefully devoted to someone, and them to you, that you might war against destiny for it. The thought only nurses hurt somewhere deep in your chest, though. Not for you. Never for you. You could be the prettiest on this Earth, the kindest, the most disciplined, or the least even. Still, that would never be yours. You know that, so why does it taste so bitter?  

A quick look, something new, passes over him. In his eyes, you see it. He looks at you for a long minute, the morning so quiet that nothing but tranquility hangs in the air for a moment, and then finally says, “Yeah. Something like that.”  

Entirely intrigued, you ask, “Who? Is she a Lady?” 

Beomgyu nods his head, that strange look lingering. “Of sorts,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest to lean back into the bark. “And your betrothed? Some well-off Lord?” 

A smile ghosts over your mouth. “Probably. I haven’t a clue who it is; but I’m sure he’s got enough coin to spare, if my parents settled on him.” 

The lines of his face gone playful, he says, “Not possibly more well-off than me.” 

Your nose crinkles. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say. A husband with money is nice. You can’t pretend that you don’t think of that, especially that none of your family’s wealth belongs to you, nor will it follow you into your marriage. Your heart revolts regardless.  

Shrugging after a few beats of silent considering, he turns his attention on the lake. His face turned like that, you admire the straight slope of his nose and his eyelashes as they flutter with his heavy eyes. Like the rest of him, his side profile is a contradiction. Strong and noble, but elegant like hewn from marble. It’s perfect. With all the talk in your ears, you’d pictured something far off from the youthful, wry man stood before you. Why you’d come to imagine him brutish, you’re not sure; he’s as much swan as you. Different and mirrored all the same. 

“I used to come here all the time,” he says. 

“Here? To the lake?” You perk up. This had been your hideaway as a girl; where you’d come at times like this when you needed to bury something away. You thought it’d been just yours. “I wonder how we never ran into each other. I used to do the same. I guess, I still do.” 

When his eyes fall back on you, they’re softer. More deep brown than black, but maybe it’s because you’re closer now. He says, “Well, I came here once or twice on my own, maybe when I was five. I didn’t really start coming back until I saw you. You were crying, all snotty, and throwing bread out for some ducks.” 

Your face twists up, maybe at the memory or maybe with confusion. It seems like if he’d really come here so often, and had even seen you here, you’d have noticed. “You must have thought I was weird,” you say, the words coming out around a shiver.  

“Maybe,” he says through a wry smile that’s cracked over his lips. “But mostly, I just wished I could talk to you.” 

He’d watched you, because he couldn’t approach you? You were under the impression that the prince had never cared for the rules, not even one so paramount as that. But, it seems that his brashness came to him later. He stands in front of you now, doesn’t he? Maybe it was just that innocent trust that, as children, you levy out to those arounds you. Especially toward adults; and all of those had preached over moments like this. You imagine a young, curious Beomgyu, hiding himself away between bushes, itching to approach or play with you. But he never did; you hadn’t the slightest clue he’d even been there until now. Could you two have been friends, if not for the curse? 

“You never came out,” you say. “Or introduced yourself?” It’s all you can really think. 

His mouth twitches. “Would you have stayed?” 

No. Then, you don’t think you would’ve. Even now, you’re stricken with the innate fear of touching him, no matter how surprised you are at how different he is. Different from what they said he’d be. You think you would’ve darted, should you have known who he was. For some reason, that makes your heart ache. A dark ebbing wave of ache that you are unfamiliar with. 

A slight knowing smile danced over his features, eyes gone to sweet crescents that turn them, usually so dark, into something rounded. Not so abrasive. He tilts his head off to one side and says, “You’re freezing. How long have you been out here?” 

Cheeks long been numb, you answer, “An hour. Maybe and a half?” 

“I’ll walk you home.” 

You grimace. Arriving with him by your side, the man you quite literally were not supposed to even speak with, is the very last thing you should do. An awful idea. “I wouldn’t bother you. It’s probably not the best idea to show up after disappearing, with a man by my side. Especially not as a to-be-married woman,” you say. “But, thank you. Really.” 

He knows what you really mean, though. A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Alright,” he says. “I suppose we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

As he begins to turn, making for wherever he’d come here from, you call out to him. “Hey, wait. Your jacket.” You pull it off your shoulders and joust it out at him. Against your skin which it had warmed, the air is bitterly cold. 

“Keep it, princess,” he says, giving you a parting nod. “Get home warm.” 

Today, you are to give your hand to a man that you do not know.

In the air, the rich nuttiness of fire-toasted chestnuts dance and mingle with the roar of chatter. Hundreds of familiar and unfamiliar faces line long tables with runners decorated by platters of plump, sugar-dusted plums and fruit pies. They’ve all come in their winter’s best—whites and reds and luxurious furs lining thick, velvety fabrics or embroidered with sparkling threads and studded with crystals that twinkle in the low firelight. It’s warm and lovely and all just for you. 

But, you don’t feel any of that. All you feel is a heavy belly. Each smile you tug over your mouth feels like dead weight. You’re familiar with this—putting on the act. Smiling in faces that you know will turn around and have something else to say about you, pretending like you don’t know that it’s all false sweetness. You’d been trained in noble propriety since you could walk and talk. 

But, considering that they’ve all come here to shower you with gifts and lovely words for a marriage in which they could really not care about beyond how they make it a profit, it’s all a bit more sour. 

You’ve met your promised. The man you’re supposed to wed and spend the entirety of your life beside. You spoke with him for... what, two minutes? Two very awkward, very awful minutes. What should you have to say to each other? You’re meeting for the first time today. At your engagement feast. It’s a real conscious effort to not take your lip into your mouth and gnaw, or to not fuss over your hair, or honestly anything that might show these people that you are anything but pleased. 

So, you relent to their gaudy pleasantries. You listen to them tell you that it’s such a blessing to be married to a man of high society—and a wealthy one, too. They tell you that they knew your marriage would bring a great dowry; that all the white swans have. That they were watching and expecting it. All you hear is the dripping of greed; all you see is hungry eyes and fingers crossed behind backs. 

You relent to it until your stomach is sick and wrought with it. And then, the older lady ahead of you singing praises of your beauty, of how she wishes her daughter might catch the eye of a husband as advantageous as yours, does something out of the ordinary. Her eyes drift behind you, her snooty, pinched features twisting up into something new. You follow her gaze. 

Dark and beautiful and his eyes trained right on you, the black swan prince stands beside you. He’s lazed, a heavy cup of some thick, spiced and wintery drink in one hand, as he does. In the clear light of morning, he’d looked so out of place. But here, soft and hard planes of his face illustrated by the flickering orange firelight, he looks so right. 

You blink. And then blink again. Never once had Beomgyu made any sort of appearance at any hosted thing by your family. You just stand in place for a moment, registering his presence.

“You look lovely, princess,” he says. His eyes fall up and down you. The way he says it—it’s liquid smooth, but it’s taunting in a way. “The perfect image of a bride-to-be.”

He can’t be here. He can’t be here at all. When you look to the side, the woman is already gone. You have no doubt in your mind that she’s whispering in somebody’s ear right now.

“Prince,” you say, gritting your teeth while also dipping into an elegant curtsy. 

“Do you feel that way?” He raises his eyebrows at you, his gaze heavy with underlying tension. “A perfect bride? Happy?”

Making the conscious decision to not look around you, because you can already feel the burning interest of the eyes that you’ll find on you, you say, “I do. Isn’t this quite the feast?”

“I told you that you don’t have to lie to me, princess.”

You shouldn’t even be standing here talking to him. They’re all watching. Stepping back to cut conversation with something witty, you stop in the onslaught of a chorus of surrounding gasps.

Beomgyu had reached out to grab you, and only stopped himself short the same way he had the first time you met him. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he brings his hand down, curling the fingers as if to wash away the urge to reach out.

He’s closer now, too. His breath smells sickly sweet with the liqueur he drinks. A sarcastic grin over his lips, he says, “Did he pay for all this?”

You do a dance of give and take. You step back, and he meets it with a step toward you, all the way until you find yourselves in a quieter corner. “He did sponsor the feast, yes.”

“Well, isn’t that just great,” he says, voice carrying over the many layered sounds of the gathering. “And that makes you happy? You feel fulfilled by that? Is that the purpose of the lovely white swan?”

You’re not sure what he’s getting at, or why your marriage is any of his business. For some reason, though, despite those rational thoughts, some faraway memory whispers that it makes every bit of sense. “He is a lovely man.”

Barking a laugh, Beomgyu says, “Don’t make me laugh. You don’t believe that, no matter how many times you tell it to yourself.”

You curl your fingers into the obnoxious, glittering material of your dress. “Seriously, what makes you so sure?” you say. “What makes you so sure you know? This is good for me. This is the way things are supposed to go. Not everybody in this world can get away with serving only themselves and doing whatever they want. Maybe it works for you, but not for the rest of us. I’m glad your life is fun, though. Really.” 

His face doesn’t sharpen into offence, though you brace for him to. You’ve never spoken to anybody like that. Ever. Shaking his head, raven locks glowing warm around the edges, he says, “Because I know. I know. Are you listening to me? You don’t have to lie to me.”

Balking at him, you don’t know how to answer. That was nowhere near the answer you were expecting from the prince, known and notorious for his chaos and fire.

“I am listening,” you say, keeping your voice measured. Thick emotion slips through the seams. “Honesty has never done me any good. This is going to happen; all honesty is going to do is hurt me. So, I’m sorry.”

His mouth opens to fire something back, but you don’t hear it. Somebody digs their fingers into your upper arm, dragging you without a word away from your conversation. You stumble, letting them take you without a fuss. This was to be expected. You shouldn’t look back. If today was already going to be the last day you ever see him, it certainly is now that you’ve been caught not only in touching distance to him, but making conversation with him.

Tossing a self-betraying glace over your shoulder, you find his figure. Hand in pocket and his lips turned down, he watches you go.

You wish you wouldn’t have. You have no explanation for the emptiness it casts into your chest.

Recently, you’ve been crying so much. You might believe that it’s because you’ve been letting yourself feel freely, but you don’t feel free.

Your palms are soaked against your cheeks, face fallen into them as you shudder with it. Their words pin and scrape in your head, forcing you to contend with them before bouncing off the walls and you hear them again and again until your stomach has gone sick. Your parents had given you an earful. That’s been your whole life; you can handle that. The moment you saw him there, intending to speak to you, you’d prepared for it. Instead, it was their contempt and sneering faces that bleed your heart like this. 

In this life, you are alone. Totally, wholly alone. Who you are—your role in life—is not the blessing they claim it to be. Is it selfish to ask to be understood? For somebody to just understand, without your pleading or begging?

Maybe. It feels that way, anyway.

“Why is it that I always find you crying?”

His voice freezes you to where you sit sprawled on your floor. Spinning to him, you say, “What are you doing?”

Beomgyu shrugs, as though he hasn’t snuck his way into your room. “I felt bad for getting you dragged off. Wanted to come see how you’re doing.”

Maybe his insisting on being around you should be annoying, but right now… You think you appreciate the company, even from the forbidden likes of him. “You can’t be here,” you hiss. “How did you get in? They’ll… if they find you here…”

His boots squeak against the polished flooring as he approaches you, and then settles down on the floor with you. The fire flickering behind him, his back to it, casts an orange light around the edges of his figure. He looks terribly inviting, like this: strewn on the floor, no holier or better than you, his face not sickly sweet nor cold and devoid of love, and his eyes curious to know how you feel. 

“I don’t care what they’ll do to me. I want to see you.” He tugs his jacket off, letting it fall on the dirty floor. Improper for a prince, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. That’s who he’s always been—that’s the one thing that was entirely true out of all the things you heard about him. “Who the hell cares about their approval? We don’t need it.”

You know what he means by they and we. Only a few days ago, you’d still believed that Beomgyu was other; that he was your total opposite, and that you should fear his darkness for all your lightness. All it’s taken is being around him the once or twice that you’ve been able to for you to realize the falsity that drips from that. When you’re around him, your soul, feathery and wispy in your chest and your veins and all the rest of you that constitutes you beyond what is physical, tugs. It’s impossible to ignore—it consumes you. Where your soul longs for him around the edges, like torn and searching for what’s been lost, you feel stuff that is beyond yourself.

Rather than your opposite, you think that Beomgyu is your other half. You think that they’ve gotten it all wrong. 

“How do you do it?” you say, back up against a white, whorling table leg. “How do you not care? I don’t understand.”

Inky eyes shining, he says, “I did. When I was young, I believed everything they told me. It’s hard not to, when it’s all you hear. Them, telling us that our purpose is to surrender ourselves to be something Saint-like. But when you catch one lie, you begin to catch the others, too. I saw their excuses and reasonings peel. Princess, it’s all lies. Everything you know is lies.” He says it with such conviction. Each and every word reaches down into that part of yourself that is missing something. “We’re not their Saints. That’s never been our purpose. I hate that shit; I hate that they’ve made you think that this is all you’re for. Marrying him? Never doing anything, because you’re scared of what it’ll mean for you? It’s not fucking fair.” He pushes himself closer to you. Now, your criss crossed knees are so close that a stray move might mean the world’s end. This time, you don’t panic. There’s no room for that among the swarm of your other thoughts. “So, of course I don’t give a shit about what they tell me to do. I’m going to live this life the way that it’s supposed to be. I wish that you could join me.”

“This life?” you blurt. It’s the one thought that appears clear to you, so it’s what comes out. Frowning, you add, “What lies?”

Deadpanned and as though he’s not delivering something that changes the world’s fabric around you, Beomgyu says, “There is no curse. There’s never been a curse.”

Your room is silent for a few moments, and then you shake your head and laugh. “How would you know that?” you say, nose wrinkling. If you don’t laugh, you’ll begin to actually consider the possibility of that. Just the very surface of the notion makes you nauseous. You couldn’t handle exploring the thought deeper. 

Beomgyu doesn’t laugh along with you. “The curse is a lie, and everything that comes with it. All of it is just excuses or justification for the hate for the other people. The whole reason that they ever decided on it was because of their hate. Maybe to the people alive now, it’s not a lie. But that’s what it started as.” His face, dark and soft as he reads your face, twists up. “Of course, we can touch. We are two halves of a whole. There is you in me, and I in you. Do you not feel it? The tug? That’s it. The black swan and the white swan were never meant to be apart and opposite. We are meant to be together. We’re meant to be the only ones that understand each other. It’s us against the world, princess.”

Your ears ring with the pierce of each word cascading out from his mouth. “Beomgyu, I don’t understand. That doesn’t… Make sense. How?” He can’t just make claims about that. Not something like this. It’s not fair.

“I know it’s hard to believe, princess. It’s all you’re ever made to believe. But you have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

Tongue darting out to wet your lips and your fingers stilling where you fuss at the fabric of your chemise, you take a good look at him. Roaming over his features, the contradiction in them and the strange familiarity that constitutes him no matter the fact that you’ve only just met, you consider it. Everything he says is absurd, and it does go against everything you’ve ever known. You should turn your nose up at him for even suggesting it; should suspect that he only has some sort of plan to coax you into bringing the world’s end.

But, you do. You trust him beyond explanation, as though intrinsically.

You nod slowly, holding his eyes in yours. “But I don’t understand,” you say. “How do you know?”

He smiles ruefully. “I saw something—had a dream when I was young. I saw us, in every last lifetime. We have lived again and again, as we are, in so many different ways. But the one thing that was always there was that they couldn’t keep us away from each other.”

The world does a few spins around you. Lightheaded, you try to stay up under the oppressive gravity of that. You want to stick your head in the ground and shake your head and yell no, but that deep tugging that has plagued you beginning the moment you’d met him, and all the emptiness before it, tells you yes. 

How poetic is that? How tragic? You, two souls born to be one, made to live apart at the interests of the world around you. Made to do it across every lifetime, and yet, in each you meet. In each, the twinkling thread of fate prevails nevertheless. 

“Do they all love?”

That soft smile still playing on his lips, his cheek to his knee as he looks at you with the veneration of somebody who might’ve loved you in a thousand lifetimes before, and perhaps in this one, too. “No. Some of us were secret lovers, but so many of those lived how you do for the entirety of their life. Halved,” he says. “And never did any of them touch.”

Heart fluttering with wings in your chest, you say, “So, how do you know that the curse is a lie? If it’s never been done before?”

“Let me show you,” he says. “That I can touch you.”

All the blood in your body pulls back. You trust him; you do. But is trust enough to risk a touch that could be the end of the world? Is trust enough to be so selfish to do so? 

Seeing you blanch, Beomgyu’s eyes go glassy. “Please,” he says, voice breaking as if to touch you might mean more than just proving something to you. As if the weight of everything he’s ever wanted rests on the back of it working—that if this works, and the world does not fall apart around you, then he can love you how he does, and how he had so many times before. Inevitably. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Beomgyu,” you say, looking between his eyes and the twitch of his hand as it itches to touch you. “I don’t… I’m scared.” Your voice drops to nothing more than a whisper.

“It’s okay,” he says, bringing that longing hand up. Your heart jumps when he raises up by your face. “You can be selfish this once. I want to see you do something because you want to, not because it’s what you think others might want.”

Your throat burns and tightens. Every last sparkling bit of your being longs to lean into his touch—to do what you two have wanted to do so many times before, and finally bring your souls back together. “What if it happens?” you ask, your eyes soft and true like an animal turning its soft underbelly to receive affection.

“Then let it,” he says. “At least we would have touched. Just this once.”

Gritting your teeth and swallowing hard, your belly does itself up into knots. You don’t answer him, but your quiet speaks enough. His hand hovers beside your face with the weight of the world in it.

The first touch of the white swan and the black swan happens in a gentle cupping of your cheek. And, the world does fall down around you. The walls melt, air leaves, and the seams of everything that’s even been good or true are ripped out and sewn with something new and beautiful. It’s as explosive and cosmic as you imagined it, but it is not terrifying. It’s lovely.

Your breaths shudder, your lungs trembling as you look into his eyes and realize what this means.

“Fuck,” is all Beomgyu breathes. It looks as though that it’s all he can manage. His touch grows more solid as the both of you realize that the both of you are still very much here, and so is the world. Thumb pad grazing over the softness of your cheek, his throat bobs with a swallow. You think that if you were to press your hand over his chest, you might feel it thudding there to the same thunderous rhythm that yours beats to.

So, you do. Because you can touch him. His heart sings beneath your palm, even through fabric and flesh. You can’t help the wobbling of your lip and the hot tears that spill out past your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The second touching is the bringing together of your lips. His mouth is soft and hard against yours, contradictory as the rest of him. He brings his other hand up to hold your face into his kiss. It’s not sweet and slow—it’s as ground-rumbling as the kiss between intertwined souls coming together after an eternity of being away. Each nip and lick and clash of teeth are like the claps of thunder of the storm that will end the world, his hand sliding up the back of your neck to card his fingers through the hair at the back of your head like the claws of a beast sent to ensure its end.

And, maybe Beomgyu is the beast that has come to end the world. You wonder how he’d waited so long to bring the truth to you, or if he was torn about ever telling you. What changed things, after so many years of him watching you from afar? Your engagement? Perhaps that’s what that drink in his hand had been: a thing to forget with.

It hadn’t worked. As he kisses you for all the lifetimes in which you couldn’t, you know that he couldn’t have accepted that and moved on. Of all the black swans that have lived and passed, Beomgyu must be the most stubborn and strong-willed. That’s why, out of every single life, this is the first that you touch. He would take the world on, or play with the existence of it, for this. Just for you. All for you—you’d found somebody who will do something just for you. Curling your fingers into the front of his tunic just over his chest, you pour the fire of that revelation into your kiss.

He roams his hands all over you, mapping your shape. You kiss and kiss, lips tugging and twisting against each other, and still it isn’t enough. Bracing a splayed palm over your lower back, he does not stop kissing you even as he lays you back onto the ground. The flooring is cold against your burning body. He supports his weight on one hand beside your head and straddles your hips to do nothing but run his fingers through your hair and just kiss you. 

Only when your lungs are too hungry to ignore does he free your mouth. His soft black hair dangles over his starry eyes as he looks down at you with them. Lips swollen and smeared with you, his chest heaves. Bringing his free hand up, he wipes your wet cheek.

“Oh my god,” you say, breathless. “Beomgyu.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, he laughs. “I like when you call me that. I think I want to make you scream it—scream it until they come breaking down your doors and see that we are each other's. Until your fiancé hears it.”

Body bursting at the seams at the prospect, you nod frantically and dip your face into his neck to dust starry kisses there, too. He shudders. “I want it so bad. Can you please?”

“Of course I can. I’m going to make love to you, okay?” He pushes off you, crawling back so that he’s sat squatted just before your knees as you pin them together. “Open your legs, princess. Show me how pretty you are—I’ve waited so long for it.” He pats on the outer side of your knee.

Thrill spiraling up from between your thighs like sparks, you oblige slowly. You let your legs fall open for him, and choke on your own heart as he begins to slowly work your dress up the expanse of your legs, and then your thighs, baring to him the plush and unseen skin there. He eats it up wildly, his eyes gone ravenous and even blacker.

“I’ve never done this before,” you say, voice trill and unsure. “I don’t know what to do.”

A wicked grin cracks over his features. “I know, princess.” The fabric bunches at your thighs, now. You tremble with the stifling anticipation. “I’m going to take care of you. It’s going to feel so good—I’m gonna make you feel so good. I have so many things I want to do to you. Lifetimes of things I want to make you feel.”

Doe-eyed and laying your trust in his hands, your thighs twitch and you nod. He reveals your cunt at last, finally catching the glistening sight of it for the very first time. And, he does not disappoint. The look that washes over his face—the twitching of his lips, the tightening of his jaw in a flickering muscle, and the fire razing your cunt in his eyes—is something so dreamlike, but lucid nonetheless.

“You just lay down and let me help you. Treat you how a princess should be treated.” He works on his pants, silver belt clinking and then loosening, and then he’s just as exposed as you when his length pops free. It’s hard already, tall and pretty like the rest of him, but pink and obscene at the tip. He leaks from the little slit at the top. “Look at you. You look like you want to taste it,” he says, laughing while collecting the liquid to pump himself a few times. “Next time, baby. I’d love to see the proper mouth of the world’s princess choking on my cock.”

The air is cold against the mess between your legs. It sends a chill up your spine—or maybe that was the crudeness of his words. You suppose you should’ve expected nothing less from him. When he goes to climb back over you and line himself up with you, your thighs twitch and try to snap shut.

He pins your hip to the floor. “Don’t be shy, baby. I wanna see that pretty pussy. It’s not fair to hide it from me.”

“Sorry,” you say, cheeks burning.

Taking that hand and sliding it up behind the back of one of your knees, pressing that thigh up to your torso, he laughs a teasing laugh down at you. “Don’t say sorry,” he says. He holds his length adjacent to your slit and then begins to slip up and down the length of it. “Just let me fuck you. I need it so bad.” He hisses in tandem with you. The drags of his length, harder than how you thought a cock might feel, is like undiluted liquor. “I can’t believe this… shit, princess. I’m about to fuck you. I thought I was going to have to sit here and watch you by his side.” 

You take your lip into your teeth when he pushes in. It stretches. You bring your hand up to cup the back of his neck and the other to dig into his tunic, mewling softly.

“It’s okay, princess. Hold on to me, you can take it, right? You cunt was built for me. Everything about you was made for me. Your heart, your pretty hands for me to hold, your sex, all of it. Do you feel how I fit right into you? How I was made to?”

You do. When he finally is balls-deep, his cock nestles exactly where it should. Not an inch too deep or an inch too scarce. The two of you were sculpted by something holy, fit just for each other. “Yes,” you breathe.

He can’t even linger sitting still  in you. He begins pulling himself out, all the way until the tip of him threatens to pop out lewdly, before shoving back in right up against that spot. He doesn’t even have to search for it. Head falling into your chest, he licks and bites. “The taste of you,” he says. Then, he presses his tall nose right over that spot in your neck where your heart’s gone wild. “The smell of you.” Wincing, he lays into you with more vigor, hips slapping against your skin. “The feel of you. You drive me up the fucking walls. How was I ever supposed to live without this?” he says. “I refuse.”

Your belly begins to tighten in a way that you’ve never known. Tears prick the corner of your ears, clinging to him as he fucks you into the floor like he’ll never have to opportunity to have you like this again. The wood cradles your back and the back of your hips, receiving each of his thrusts. You curl your toes and will back the lewd cries that threaten to spill over with each.

His voice is taut and wobbly. “Feels good, huh? I know. It feels… so good.” Dropping your thigh to cup your face, he says, “Cry. Cry for me. I said I wanted you to scream.”

Face burning and squirming against the hardwood behind you, you shake your head. “I can’t, gyu…”

“Yes you can,” he says, face twitching. “I want you to start letting it out, or I’m gonna stop. Do you want me to stop?”

Covering your face, with the back of a forearm, you grit your teeth through each punctual and yet sloppy grind up into you. Your bodies sweat and meld, and you’re sure that anybody walking by your quarters would know just by the hollow smacks of skin and grunts that you’re fucking a man. You, an engaged woman, are letting the prince turn your brain inside out.

But, there is nothing you want less than for him to stop. So, you let your mouth drop open and allow the sweet mewls to come with each rut.

“There we go. Louder.” He braces himself, digging his feet into the floor, and then he really starts driving into you. Sparks fly in your belly—each yellow and glowing and scalding. “Do I need to fuck you harder? C’mon, louder, princess.”

Thighs squeezing his hips so tight that they ache, you squirm. You struggle against your sounds—turning from sweet moans and mewls, you groan and gasp and your voice breaks. Each collision of your bodies breaks your sounds.

Curling your fingers into his silken hair, you grit out, “H—hoooh fuck, Beomgyu, Beomgyu, I feel… like…”

Bangs sticky and his eyes growing wilder, he knows something you don’t. The knowing, taunting grin on his mouth says enough. “Let it happen. Don’t fight it.  Just stay—stay right there, and I’ll give it to you. No running from it; it’s gonna feel so good.” His muscles go taut, and he doubles down on his efforts, panting through his nose and his neck sheened. He drops his head into your chest. “Fuck. Fuckkkk, I love you so much, princess. Thank you—thank you, so much.”

You don’t know why he’s thanking you. You don’t have the cognitive function to worry about that. Your mind has gone to two things: the growls and whines that rumble and tear from his chest, and the frightening tightness that only goes more dangerous. Your chest tightens—it feels as though, if he feeds that hungry beast gnawing deep down in your belly with any more of what he’s doing now, it will snap and take you down in its wake. Warbled cries crawling up your throat, you arch your back up into his chest to try and dig your hips into the floor, away from the bliss and the power of it.

“No,” he says, cursing. “No—don’t run from it. Don’t… Baby, please take what I’m giving you. It’s gonna be alright.”

Pushing back on the dark throes of the tide as it creeps up over your shoulders and sends shocks through your body, the hair on the back of your neck rising with the effort, you choke. Beomgyu takes a hand down the seam of your bodies and rolls your aching clit. They’re succinct and intentional—pressure right on the sensitive underside, sending your belly rippling as he pairs it with a few more sharp, more meaningful thrusts.

You see white. It’s white and hot. You are the sun, beaming and writhing like stardust. You curve off the floor once more, raking nails down the lengths of his back. Are you even making sound? You don’t know; you can’t hear it past the ringing piercing sharp in your ears. You shake beneath him, cunt gripping him frantically with flutters of your walls. 

He grunts, voice strained and shaking as he begins to follow his own release.  “Holy shit—look at you. You’re so f-filthy. So pretty, cumming on me.���

You bare each brush of his cock against your still twisting walls, trembling as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your thighs jump and your toes curl, and it’s all too much, but not enough. He needs to come tumbling over the edge right along with you—if he comes with you, it doesn’t seem so hard. You chant his name, smooth voice gone hoarse.

Stilling inside you, he whines, “Shi—it.” A war wages behind his eyes for a long second before he slips his cock from you with a wet, squelching pop, strings of your release breaking as he lays his cock on your belly. His stomach goes tight, and with one last slide of his length, slick with your mess and staining your belly, his cock jumps. He shoots all over your skin, pretty glistening spurts like ribbons a milky white. 

He sits back on his haunches, slowly rubbing himself off to give you some more and come down. Your room is quiet now, aside from your heaving chests and the buzz of something new in the air. Letting his head fall back, wet strands of spiky black hair dangle around his neck, a bead of sweat catching light as it rolls down it.

“Feel okay?” he says, looking down on you with softened eyes. He pulls cloth from his pocket, unfolding the fine fabric, and he wipes himself off your belly.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, leaning into the palm he cups your cheek with. “I’m okay.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “The world didn’t explode, did it?” he says.

You share a stolen laugh with him, feeling every last honey wave receding from the spot between your thighs. The world hadn’t ended, and yet, in every way, it had. Savoring the abated rises and falls of his chest and the content sagging of his shoulders, your belly tightens anew. 

What happens now, when everything else has been a lie? When you don’t believe that you can survive that lie for any longer?

So many hands work on you. One of your ladies in waiting laces you up in the back, and another works on your hair even while you stand, and one bounces a wintry, snow-kissed rouge over the plush of your cheeks. 

Yesterday, your world changed. And today, you’re expected to go on living in it.

When Beomgyu slipped out from your room last night after hours of holding each other under the covers, indulging in your ability to touch, you let your heart crack in two. You shouldn’t have. Why had you let yourself think that it was going to end up anything other than like this? You, getting prettied up to be sent away with your expecting husband, and the dreams you’d let build up to the clouds in the prince’s arms all shattered on the floor at your feet.

What else can you do? Loving Beomgyu freely is out of the question. Your parents would laugh right in your face, or maybe lock you away and make even more sure that you never get to see him again.

You try to burn the image of his eyes into your memory. Black, big and round and cunning all the while. You commit the broadness of his shoulders, and the pretty straight line of his nose in profile, and the pink plushness of his lips, and the little freckles you’d discovered yesterday, and the sound of his voice in your ear, and the feel of his touch on your skin, too.

“We’ll leave you until it’s time to come collect you,” a Lady says, bowing at the waist to you as the others finish up, tying the fastening of your dress up quick and sprinkling their final touches over you before following her out.

Your room goes utterly quiet. More quiet than it’s ever felt.

Dragging your limbs over to your bed, you let yourself fall onto it despite all the care they’d taken to get your skirts right. Resting your cheek to your palm, you let your eyes fall closed as you memorize the feel of your own bed, too.

When you flutter them open, there’s something peeking out from the pillow across from you. You furrow your brows and reach for it.

The paper is folded up with haste, torn from the edge of somewhere else and scribbled on with a quick hand. How long has that been there, without you noticing? Pushing yourself up from the bed, careful to at least maintain the smoothness of your hair, you unfold it.

ℳ𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝓉 𝒮𝑤𝑎𝑛 ℒ𝑎𝑘𝑒. 

Your soul comes back to life and seeps through your bloodstream. Sitting there for a few moments, idle at the largeness of what you’re about to do, you loose a breath. 

And then, you curl your hand around it, shove yourself up in a flurry of white, crystalline skirts, and you go.

The curious faces of the palace hands you pass do not stop you, nor does the morning’s bite as you find your way outside, nor does the almost-slip over ice, and absolutely nothing else stops you as you run. Is he still going to be there when you make it?

God, please let him be there. Don’t let this be almost.

Fists full of the abrasive fabric of your skirts and darting by barren bushes and trees, you do not stop until you clear the little tree line and the lake stands vast and frosty ahead of you.

When Beomgyu spots you, and you spot his figure against the background of the lake crisp in the morning, the sweet cooing of the birds and the rest of the bustle falls away. None of it compares.

“You came,” he says, dragging his feet through the snow until he’s right in front of you, his features elegant once more in the clear morning haze. “I didn’t think you would.”

You reach up to dust away snowflakes resting on his hair. It’s an excuse to touch him—that’s all you find yourself wanting to do, now. Brows pinching, you say, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just… was scared.”

“No, no, I came,” you say, feeling now the bare expanse of your arms. You run your hands up and down them. Heart in atrophy all the while feeling full just being here with him, you add, “Why did you want to meet here?”

The world is serene for a few long moments as he just looks at you, his gaze searching. “Don’t marry him. Don’t leave with him.”

You know where he’s going with this already. Letting your dress fall from your hands, the one they’d fashioned you in to do exactly that, you say, “And do what?”

“Be with me. Marry me. Be my wife,” he says, the lines of his face solemn. “Let’s elope and find a corner of the world that’s just ours, so that we will never have to hear another word from them again. Let’s just… be together. Finally.”

Chest swelling with something so hopeful that it’s painful, reality comes with its pin point and pops it. “Is that really what you want? You’ll take me, even though I’m promised to somebody else?”

His lip curls as though the thought were detestable. “What the fuck is a dowry to this? To the approval of the fates? The world could try snuff that fact out with whatever they’ll try, and a man could offer your parents a dowry of all its money, and still, you’d be mine. No matter what, our souls belong to each other.” His hand is frozen against your cheek. He’s been out here waiting for you for so long. “I’d take you, promised to another man. I’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, I’d have you each time.”

That’s all you need to hear: that you are cherished for more than just your nature, but for yourself. That he loves you unendingly and undyingly, and all you have to do is leave by his side. You’ve already left it all behind—thrown any attachment to the wind, because truly, what is that to this? You don’t know where you’ll go, and you think Beomgyu hasn’t a clue either. But you’ll find that somewhere together. 

Together, your half sings. His answers with a thrilling beat.

“This time,” he says, eyes blazing with conviction. You know he feels the tug, too. “We got it right.”

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note MY SHAYLAAAAA. MY SHAYLAAAAAAA!

﹙📋﹚ @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @bakugosbottombitch , @304files , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @ashistrashhhhhh , @no1likemybbgcharlie , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[luveline]

Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3

Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much

tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k

Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him. 

When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is. 

“And… kiss!” 

Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much. 

“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.” 

“I’m getting good at bugs.” 

To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs. 

“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.” 

“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?” 

“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle. 

“I’m not a baby.” 

“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it? 

The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy. 

“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no. 

She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap. 

“So they’ll last longer,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”

“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.” 

“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.” 

Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?” 

“Really clean.” 

“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.” 

“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.” 

“But you’re home next week.” 

Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except… 

He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too. 

“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.” 

Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.” 

“Are you kidding? You love swimming.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.” 

“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.” 

“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.” 

Spencer laughs. “What?” 

“I texted her.” 

Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?” 

“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.” 

“How could you know that?” Spencer asks. 

“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?” 

“She said she’s coming over.” 

“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?” 

“She said five thirty.” 

Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.” 

Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked. 

He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up. 

She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too. 

“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door. 

She smiles wider. “Yes!” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them. 

You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle. 

“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?” 

“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!” 

Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.” 

Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume. 

“Dad says I smell good too.” 

You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.” 

You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful. 

“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”

You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend. 

“I missed you,” Amy says. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?” 

Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch. 

“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?” 

Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.” 

Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously. 

“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.” 

“I don’t know what got into me.” 

“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.” 

He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place. 

“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?” 

“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?” 

“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek. 

Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another. 

“Oh, no,” Amy says. 

Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand. 

“Now you gave Y/N cooties.” 

Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!” 

“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.” 

You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!” 

Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.  

“Kiss?” Amy asks. 

“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.

“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

[momotonescreaming]

STWG Daily Drabble - Doodle

Steddie | G | 814 words

Their phone was hooked to the wall near the end of their kitchen counter — a rather inconvenient place if you were trying to talk on the phone while someone else cooked — but the apartment was cheap enough no one really complained.

In fact, Robin joked it was in the perfect position. She could talk on the phone to Vickie, and keep Steve company as he cooked at the same time. He had no trouble hip-bumping her out of the way when she stretched the cord and wandered into the middle of their very tiny kitchen.

It only became a problem when Eddie ended up having tense emotional conversations there, right where everyone could hear him. When he tried to convince Wayne to give up the night shift and move away from Hawkins like he did — trying to keep him safe. Or when he talked to Jeff and the Corroded Coffin boys about school and how they were doing at college and they got all weird about them getting in and Eddie not even bothering to apply.

But that was neither here nor there. Steve and Robin were both really good at giving him space when he needed it, and he hoped he was just as good in return.

So he focused on the good things. He was doing that a lot lately. Steve had stolen a notepad and some nice pens from work, and they had it set up next to the phone so they could take notes. So they didn't have to go hunting through the house for them, Steve said. Because you always needed to write something down as soon as you weren't near any paper.

Naturally, there were hardly any proper notes on that pad of paper. Dates to coordinate calls with Dustin, times and amounts the pizza delivery gave them, notes on how to repair things Wayne gave them over the phone. But that was about it.

So when Eddie was on the phone, hunched over the counter, chatting with Wayne — he doodled. Drew skulls and guitars and goblins. Spiders and snakes and various dragon-like creatures. A wizard he tried to make like Gandalf.

And Steve, Eddie shortly noticed — started doodling too. He drew lines and patterns and slowly started colouring in the whole page with his pen. He drew sports equipment and car parts. A weird looking creature he thinks was supposed to be Dart?

It was cute, seeing all the little things Steve doodled while on the phone. But Eddie's favourites, he was finding out, was when Steve added onto Eddie's doodles. He gave Gandalf a basketball and tennis shoes. Doodled a guitar of his own in the goblin's hands and sunglasses on it's face. Gave his flaming skull a flower crown and a speech bubble that said 'I smell'.

So Eddie returned the favour. He took the baseball bat Steve doodled and drew nails sticking out of it — like the infamous baby he'd heard so much about. He tried to make the car Steve doodled look more like the Beemer — he's not so sure he succeeded, so he added a little label. He took a little pattern of stripes and spots Steve had doodled in the corner and turned it into a little knight wearing Steve's pattern on his tabard.

They didn't say anything to each other, but Eddie could hear Steve looking at the doodles he was adding and huffing a laugh out of his nose. It made his heart flutter, just a little, knowing Steve liked his silly little doodles. That this was a thing between them.

Robin, never covered or added to their doodles. She always started a new page, drawing smiley faces and flowers and little stick figure ladies with big boobies.

He tried hard not to read into it too much, despite the fact that he really wanted to read into it. Maybe this was just a Steve and Eddie thing. Maybe this was a sign. Or maybe he was just being silly.

The next time Eddie went to call Wayne, hunched over the kitchen counter, the notepad had been flipped over to a blank page. Right in the middle, in Steve's familiar scrawl — was a little doodle of Eddie. Mop of curly hair, tiny band shirt, ripped jeans and his guitar in one hand.

Lips curling up into a smile, almost involuntarily, Eddie felt his chest bloom with warmth. Turning, pen in hand, he looked to see Steve sitting on their living room couch. Shy smile of his own, but he wasn't looking away. He didn't say anything — not with Eddie waiting for Wayne to pick up — but he gave him a coy little look that said I hope you like it.

Eddie did, of course.

So he turned back to the paper — still waiting for Wayne to answer the phone — and started to doodle a little Steve holding doodle-Eddie's hand.

[slushypoopz]

pretty little birds pt. 4

hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader

a/n: ayyy we gettin cozy here i think. This is also slightly suggestive so as always mdni!!

navi.

yourusername

liked by hamzahthefantastic, mandysiphone and 3,928,930 others

yourusername you in my dreams that's why i sleep all the time

hamzahthefantastic Stalker

> yourusername ok😘

user1 waittt she was also there???

> user2 yeah! i was literally standing next to her lol idk why she wasnt with them but yeah

user3 girlll what are those shoes

> yourusername ends repair ! luvvvv them

> user3 that was a hate comment..

user4 whoooo is miss girl talking about on all these posts

> user5 probs the same person with the flowers

> user6 i could bet money thats hamzah

user7 stop posting that man give us a break 💔 • liked by author

> yourusername if i gotta suffer so do u

> hamzahthefantastic Ok ?

user8 whoever these flowers are from got taste theyre sooo beautiful • liked by author

> user8 lmao hamzah liked???

yourusername

liked by chaserutherford, clairedrakee and 4,837,028 others

yourusername miss her soul but im out of reach

user9 MAMAS COOKING SOMETHINGGG

user10 peep the fuckass vape

> user11 she just like that boi

chaserutherford that lululemonnnn • likes by author

> yourusername are we givingggg???

> user12 i love their interactions wtf

user13 y/n brings back swag 2025

> yourusername #BRINGBACKSWAG

hamzahthefantastic My pants mind you

> yourusername they look better on me ngl...💔

> hamzahthefantastic They do

user14 FINALLY NO MAN IN THE POST • liked by author

> yourusername a win is a win...?

> user14 girl you were softlaunching sb the past couple posts

> yourusername my bad brother

late night. unspoken promises. hamzah sitting at her couch, patiently waiting for her to come back. he gave her his card- "treat yourself, you deserve it". she didn't feel it was right, but who was she to say no?

a cat purring on his lap, hamzah scrolled on his phone mindlessly, eager to see her come back and show him what she got. it gets him going, the thought of her making herself look pretty. maybe thinking about him too? he really hoped so. because he spent the whole day thinking about her.

a sound breaking his silent train of thoughts. she entered her dimly lit apartment, a quiet hum of japanese jazz filling her ears immediately. mere seconds later, the cat at her feet, begging for attention. "you missed me baby? i missed you too", she cooed at the little creature, scratching behind its ears. lifting it up from the floor, she walked further into the place, two shopping bags in her hands. looking up, she saw hamzah sitting comfortably, staring at her with a soft but smug smile on his face.

"you had fun?", he asked quietly as she approached him.

"a lot", she grinned down at him, standing between his legs as he caressed her hips with his soft, caring hands she liked way too much to admit.

"yeah? where did you go?", his tone laid back but attentive, half lidded eyes looking up at her, signalling his tiredness. despite wanting to just simply lay down next to her after hours of anticipation, seeing her smile like that made him want to know everything she ever wanted to tell him. even if it meant sitting there, listening to her talk with no signs of stopping.

"i went thrifting. wanted to get some cute stuff for spring... thank you for paying. you really, really, really didn't have to"

seeing her soft, grateful smile made him even happier. "i know. but i wanted to. now come on, give me a haul, yeah? wanna see what you got."

minutes later, she was strutting down the room in one of her new dresses. it was a beautiful ivory color, one he loved seeing her in. she knew. that's why she got it. little frills clung to her figure, making her look cute and whimsical. a smile creeped up on his face as she walked up to him as if she was a model and her apartment was a runway.

"what do you think? cute?", she asked, doing a twirl right in front of him, making him let out a breathless laugh.

"cute", he confirmed, grabbing her hips again, needing her closer. "the fabric feels nice."

"it does, doesn't it?" she put her hands on his, caressing them with her thumbs slowly, drinking in the contact. the air thick, his scent surrounding her thoughts.

"show me the next one"

she turned away, swaying her hips jokingly as she walked back to the bags filled with clothes. "nice underwear", he joked. she momentarily turned to him, her face slightly flushed. laughter filled the room. but there was something more behind it, and they both knew why.

taglist: @moshuka @felixsbrat @rafesgurl @khxna @mirinaeii @xarerie @tbfaptbfae @vivianne666 @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @asthmaticcchoeee @loverzxi @chrisgetsmewetter @angellxca @starrywoo @hamzaholic @baeseungcheolie @nickmillersn1gf @live-laugh-lizzy-grant @urthem00n (one tag wasnt working so i changed the username cause i probably typed it wrong! If i didnt tag you or tagged you on accident pls lmk !!)

[cccakessslicemeee]

Thinking about Riz being a good boy and also a small creature who has rarely ever consumed any alcohol. He probably wants to look like he can handle his liquor in front of his friends and doesn't say no to shots or whatever because peer pressure and he can't look like a pussy in front of his super cool (and let's be honest, only) friends

He gets snockered quick

Luckily the Bad Kids love this goober and ensure nothing bad happens to him while he's completely wasted.

I like to imagine it becomes a game among the other bad kids and it's lovingly referred to as pass The Ball and it's just someone holding Riz until they wanna go dance or be stupid

I like to imagine Ragh while feeling super guilty for the past is still kinda a dude bro and has Riz draped over his shoulder.

Fig and Ayda- mostly because Ayda would just copy the way fig holds him- like a baby (when drunk, when he's sober and capable Fig absolutely treats him like a football, tucked under an arm) with his head leaning on her shoulder. Her grip on him is pretty firm like he's gold or something

Fabian says a lotta shit but he would hold Riz bridal style and close to his chest. He'd bitch and moan and pretend to hate having The Ball duty but he doesn't

Gorgug just tucks that goblin in his hoodie so his hands are free, you never know when you need to punch someone or fix a thing

Adine has Riz draped along her back like well, back a backpack but will also cradle him like a baby or have him under arm like a football. It just depends on the moment. I imagine she can't really hold him for long so she shifts him around until she passes him back to someone else. Probably lingers around whoever has him just because it's safer and she really, really doesn't want one of her friends leaving this plane of existence from a preventable death

Kristen she immediately starts to work out with the inebriated goblin, treating him like a weight. She is yelled at and then screamed at when Riz barfs and it's crazy that it happened twice before she realized maybe it wasn't such a good idea to shake the goblin loaded up on booze. when she isn't being a huge dork about she holds him under arm or over her shoulder

Merely a couple thinks

[coquitokisses]

From fear to forever | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x pregnant!reader

Word count: 2.8k

A/n: chatgpt had to give me some ideas on how to write a birth/labor scene cuz i got not much experience writing shit like this lmao hope i could make it at least a bit good tho lol also, I finally made a masterlist for this small series, you can find the link at the end of this fic!

“It needs a name, y/n.” You heard Dean’s voice at your bedroom door

“I know.” You muttered still laying on the bed, not facing him

These last few weeks have been rough. You haven’t really been in a good mood and you’re almost every time in your room. Sam and Dean occasionally go and try to get you out, even if it’s just to walk around the bunker, because they know that the doctor told you that you should be walking more since the baby can come any day now.

And no, it still doesn’t have a name. And you don’t know their gender either, you kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Both, you and Dean.

But he’s been trying to talk you into thinking names in the last couple of days. Which you haven’t really thought about, to be honest.

“I just.. I don’t have any in mind.” You sighed

“Well then you can just hear the ones I have in mind and choose which one you like.” He suggests, you smile a little at his attempt to try and get you in a better mood

After a few seconds you finally responded “Maybe later.”

You’ve just been feeling a little upset lately and you think it’s probably because the day is getting closer and soon you’ll meet the little creature that you’ve had inside of you for the last nine months and it scares you.

It scares you because you’re still thinking that you’re not ready or that you won’t be a good mom. Jody has been telling you to stop thinking that, she keeps saying it comes natural and that you’ll be a great mom because once you have it in your arms, you immediately have that instinct to protect it with your life.

“Do you need anything?” He asked

“Not for now.” You replied

“Okay, well I’ll probably be in my room in case you need anything.” He said “Sam is in the library.”

You just nodded“Okay.”

You heard the door closing and left out a sigh. You didn’t want to feel like this but you couldn’t help it. And seeing Dean so enthusiastic and excited about this, it kinda lifts your spirits sometimes, but it also made you feel like shit because if he was that excited, then why weren’t you?

You never would’ve thought he would be excited to have a baby, let alone with you, out of all the women he’s had in his life.

You stayed in bed for a while after you decided to just get out of your room. You pushed the blanket off your body and then got up from the bed. You tied your hair in a low ponytail and then got out of your room to go to Dean’s.

You grabbed the doorknob and opened the door slowly, only sneaking your head in, Dean was watching tv.

“Come in.” He said lowering the volume

You walked in closing the door behind you and you rested your back against it before talking.

“I like Raine.” You said “It’s unisex and it also has different spellings.”

“Raine sounds good.” He nodded

“I also like River.. or Emerson.” You walked up to his bed and laid down next to him

“I was going with Noah, so simple.” He said “And it’s unisex too.”

You giggle “I like Noah.” You nodded

“Oakley is cute too.” He wrapped his arm around you

“It is.. and Haven.”

“Haven is pretty.” He nodded “We have a lot of options.” He looked at you “We just have to choose.”

“But it’s so hard.”

“Well you choose two and I’ll choose two as well.” He said

“Okay, well I choose Raine and Emerson.”

“I’ll go with Noah and Oakley.”

“If it’s a girl and we choose Noah, then it’s Noa without the h, it looks more girly that way.”

He chuckled “Deal.”

* a few days later *

“And there you have it.” Rowena put the crochet hook and the yarn on the table “A little sweater for your wee thing.”

“It’s so cute.” You grabbed the piece of clothing in your hands, looking at it and realizing how small it actually was “It’s so small.” You muttered “Is it gonna fit?”

“Why of course, dear, I can assure you, babies are a lot smaller than we think.” She replied

She’s been hanging around for the last few days since the boys have been kinda busy working on different cases, they thought that maybe some company would be actually good in case you had to rush to the hospital. You were thinking of Donna or Jody, or even Cas maybe, you never thought that Sam would actually call Rowena to come over. But since she’s hasn’t been on the guys’ bad side as of late, well they agreed to talk to her so she could stay with you. Also, they’ve asked for her help for other things so that’s why they agreed.

And you’ve come to actually like her more, she’s been nothing but helpful, always telling you tips and tricks that are probably gonna help you when the baby gets here.

“Thanks, Rowena.” You gave her a small smile

“How are you feeling?” She asked

You sigh “Tired.”

“Anything else?”

“A little pain in my lower back, but it’s not too much.”

“Sam called and said they’re two hours away.” She said “Why don’t you go and rest a bit, aye?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably just go and watch some tv.” You said getting up from the chair and let out a soft gasp as you felt a sharp pain in your lower stomach

“Are you okay?” Rowena asked noticing how you’re wincing

“Yeah.” You say as you feel the pain going away “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s probably just the Braxton hicks.” You reply grabbing the little sweater Rowena crocheted for the baby

“Call me if you feel anything else.”

You nodded. “I will.”

You headed to your room and decided to watch some tv for a while. You were feeling pretty tired and you had a little pain in your lower back, it wasn’t that strong and the pain was coming and going which didn’t really bother you, it wasn’t unbearable so you just tried to get comfortable in bed switching positions trying to make it go away.

You were starting to get hungry so you got up to go to the kitchen and prepare a sandwich. You sat on the table and as you were finishing your sandwich, you saw Dean come into the kitchen.

“Hey, you’re back.” You say putting the sandwich back on the plate

“Yup, we got here like 20 minutes ago, I was taking a very needed shower.” He walked up to you and left a kiss on your head “How are you feeling?”

“My lower back hurts a little.” You sighed “But I’m okay.”

“Just your lower back?” He asks

“Well when I was making the sandwich I kinda felt like a sharp pain in my lower abdomen, but it went away pretty quick.” You explained

“And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm.” You nodded taking the last bite of the sandwich “How was the hunt?”

“Messy and bloody.” He sat next to you and he placed one of his hands on your belly “Woah, it feels very hard.”

“That’s what she said.” You say and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and laugh at your comment

“Has it been moving a lot?”

“Yeah, actually, I couldn’t sleep last night.” You replied “It’s ready to come out.”

“I’m ready too, how long is this gonna take? I want it out. Now.” He said caressing your belly

“Patience.” You laughed “I want it out too, but we can’t really rush it.”

“I know.” He pouted

“It’ll happen soon, you’ll see.”

“I sure hope so.” He says “Wanna come and have a walk around the bunker?”

You groan “Not really.”

“Well that’s a shame.” He says as he gets up from the table “Come on.”

“Aren’t you tired? Cuz I am.”

“You’re always tired, baby.” He said “Now get up.”

You just roll your eyes and get up too, but you had to stop when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach.

“Ah, shit.” You winced, your hand immediately going to your belly as you held onto the table with the other one

“You okay?” Dean was quick to come to your side to help you

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You said resting your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes were closed because of the pain

It started to slowly fade away and you could stand up straight again.

You took a deep breath “Okay, we can go.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean’s hand was on your lower back

You roll your eyes “Yes, now come on before I change my mind.” You grabbed him by the wrist

You put the plate on the sink before you both walked out of the kitchen and started your nightly routine of just walking around in the bunker. 15 minutes went by and again, you felt that same pain in your stomach, only this time it was stronger.

“Fuck, oh my god..” you moaned bending a little because the pain was so much that you couldn’t even stand up straight

“What is it?” Dean asks

“It hurts.. it’s like a really bad cramp, ah!” You quickly grabbed your belly “Fucking hell.”

“I don’t think this are Braxton Hicks anymore.” He said running his hand over your back

“Yeah, me neither.. holy shit.” You had one hand on your belly and the other one was gripping Dean’s arm

“You wanna sit down?” He asks and you just nod in response

He helped you walk over to the library but the pain got worse by the time you got there.

“Oh my god..” you placed your hands on the table “I can’t..” you had to bend over the table resting your arms on it

“I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Yeah..” you said breathless “I think so too.”

“Come on, sit here while I go grab your things.” He said

While he was helping you move from the corner of the table over to the chair, you swore you felt something wet running down your legs.

“Oh my god!” You gasped looking down

“What?!” He asked

“Oh my god.. I think my water just broke, holy fuck, Dean, oh my god, oh my god.”

You knew you had to keep your cool but it was impossible. This was the first time you were gonna give birth and now that the moment has come, you’re terrified!

Now you’re realizing that all the cramps you’ve felt throughout the day were contractions and that you’ve basically been in labor the whole day. Which made you freak out even more.

“I’m gonna cry..” you say trying to control your breathing

“Don’t cry, baby, we got this.” Dean said as he moved your hair out of your face “We’re going to the hospital right now.”

Before you can respond, another contraction hits, and you stumble a little, gripping the table to steady yourself. Your face tightens with pain and Dean’s mind races, realizing just how fast this is happening. This baby isn’t waiting for anyone.

You look at him “I- I don’t think we’re gonna make it to the hospital, Dean.”

“Son of a bitch..” he mutters under his breath pacing for a moment before looking around the bunker like it might magically turn into a maternity ward “Okay, okay, let’s get you more comfortable.. your room?”

“I don’t know!” You snap

“Shit.. okay, just breathe, honey.” He caresses your back trying to soothe your pain “Fuck, I don’t know what the fuck are we supposed to do now! This isn’t what we had in mind.. fuck.”

“I know that! Do you think my mind is thinking about something else other than the excruciating pain that I’m feeling right now?! I don’t know what to do either!” You reply

Just as he’s about to talk again, there’s a soft voice from the doorway.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asks as he enters the library along with Rowena

“It’s the baby!” You and Dean yell at the same time

“Is it time?” Sam walked over to where you both were

You sigh “What do you think?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Dean spoke “Yeah, she’s not in the best mood right now.”

“We gotta get her to the hospital.” Sam said

“No!” You said “As much as I hate to say it, we’re not gonna make it to the hospital in time.”

“Oh, no. This can’t be happening now.” You heard Rowena say

Sam glares at her. “Rowena”

“I’m just stating the obvious.” Rowena replies, her eyes flitting from Dean to you. “We’re not prepared for a delivery here. I mean, do you even have a birth plan?”

Dean’s head snaps toward her. “I don’t even have a clue what I’m doing here, Rowena!”

But Rowena is already moving. “Alright, alright,” she says, stepping forward to assess the situation “Let’s get her to the infirmary, Dean, you’re coming with me and Sam, you go and grab some towels and blankets.”

“But Rowena..” Sam starts, but Rowena cuts him off.

“Don’t you start. I’ve delivered babies before, you know.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, but she looks at you and offers a small, reassuring smile. “It’s just… a little unexpected, that’s all.”

“It sure is.” You nod

“Now come on, boys, chop chop, we have a baby to deliver.” Rowena says

Dean and Rowena help you get to the infirmary and once you’re there, you lay down on one of the beds.

Dean looks down at you, his chest tight with anxiety. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

You catch his gaze and manage a small smile, despite the pain. “Tell me about it.”

Dean bites his lip, trying to control his nerves. This wasn’t how he pictured the delivery of his child. But as your hand grips his, and Sam rushes around the room bringing the things that Rowena told him, Dean starts to realize something. In the middle of all the chaos, in the overwhelming fear that’s consuming him, he feels something else too. A fierce, unshakable need to protect.

“Alright.” Rowena calls, her voice shifting to a more authoritative tone now “We need to keep this moving. Dean, don’t just stand there. Focus.”

Dean nods, swallowing his fear. He sits beside you, his hands gently holding yours as you breathe through another contraction. He can feel your hand shaking and the last thing he wants is to show how terrified he actually is.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” He whispers, trying to reassure you

“You’re saying that to make me feel better or for you?”

“I think both.” He shrugs and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle

Sam’s been running back and forth, but as Rowena starts to guide you through the process, Sam looks at Dean with a soft smile, one that says, you’ve got this. Dean doesn’t know how, but with Rowena’s instructions, Sam’s calm presence, and the small baby steps toward the delivery, he starts to believe that maybe they can get through this.

After what felt like forever, which included of a lot of tears, a lot of sweat and a lot of pain, you finally hear that loud cry that immediately made your whole body relax, even though you were in pain still, you felt an immense relief that it was over.

“It’s a little girl.” Rowena said as she put the baby on your chest wrapped up in a blanket

“Oh my god..” you looked at the baby with a mix of shock and happiness in your eyes, you couldn’t believe she was right already, but you were very happy about it “Hi, baby.” You whisper caressing her cheek with your thumb softly

“She’s so tiny.” Dean said looking at her

“She is.” You smile and then turned your head to look at him

“You did great.” He said running his hand through your hair

“We did great.” You told him and he gave you a small smile

“So.. Noa without the h?” He raised his eyebrows

You giggle “How about Oakley?”

“I liked Raine, not gonna lie.”

“Then, how about Oakley Raine?”

He nodded “Sounds good to me.”

“Welcome to the world, little miss.” You brushed your nose on her cheek “Do you wanna hold her?”

He nods “Yes, of course.”

You gave the baby to Dean and he carefully placed one of his hands to the back of her head to support it while he was holding her body with his arm. She was so little that she fitted perfectly in her forearm.

“Hey, baby girl.” He mutters while looking at the baby “Gosh, she’s perfect.”

She sure was unexpected, but hell, she was everything you both needed and you didn’t even know it until now.

series masterlist • main masterlist

A/n: idk why but in my mind, Rowena just had to be there, you know? Lol 💀 btw I’m planning on writing a prequel to oh, baby! Like, Dean and y/n’s one night stand, what do we think? 👀

Likes, comments & reblogs will be appreciated! <3

Taglist: @mychemicalfalloutpilotsstuff @multiversefanfics @ladykitana90

[iateyourparents]

ghostie | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you met something very cute while waiting for boys to be done with exploring haunted place and decided to keep it.

warnings: fluff, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language), wasn’t proofread

pictures are from pinterest:)

You were sitting in the back of Sam’s car waiting for Sam, Colby, Seth and Nate to be done with exploring the haunted house.

You were supposed to be with them inside but because you felt ill earlier, you decided to stay in warm of the car, especially with the bad weather outside.

You knew it could even be hours till Sam and Colby will be done there but you weren’t complaining. Car was warm and you had a blanket, snacks, water and your phone so you were sure you wouldn’t die from boredom.

Currently you were watching old episodes of grey’s anatomy. No matter how many times you rewatched this show, you still were amazed by Addison’s entrance.

You were so into your show that you almost didn’t hear silent groan from under the car. Key word - almost.

Your first reaction was of course uneasiness, you were in a driveway of a haunted house so of course many possibilities went through your mind.

Then you heard it again and for sure, unless something wanted to lure you by pretending to be some animal, it wasn’t a ghost or some dark entity.

You were almost sure it was meowing of a cat, eventually really weirdly sounding dog.

But what concerned you was the fact that sound was coming from under the car and it didn’t sound nice. From just the sound of it you could say that the animal was scared and maybe even hurt.

So of course you did the only logical thing. You got out of the car and got on your knees to look under the vehicle. Rain was now pouring on you and you were sure your pants are already stained with dirt and water.

But there it was. Meowing silently, black cat was sitting probably trying to escape the cruel rain.

From its stained with dirt fur you deduced he must be a stray.

You carefully reached your hand in its way to see if it would escape but little creature only smelled it and went for pets. You peted it with smile and then you carefully lifted it from under the car and into your arms just to see that it was a girl.

“Hi baby, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?” you asked in baby voice and got into the warm car with cat in your arms “Do you have an owner baby?”

After moment of silence while you were petting her, you made a decision.

“Well, now you do have an owner. Even two owners” you smiled at her. Apart from dirt on her fur you didn’t saw any wounds so you carefully placed the cat on the blanket and reached for water to give it to her.

“What should I call you, hm?” you thought for a moment “Since you were here with ghosts maybe I will call you Ghostie? I think Colby will like it. Do you like it?” you observed the cat while she was drinking from your hand “I know animals don’t like visiting vet but we have to check you for wounds and some shit like flies, baby.”

You knew she wasn’t an old cat, for sure not older than few months so it broke your heart how someone could possibly leave that baby outside. Especially with that weather. It was certain death for that young animal.

After some time, in which you told Ghostie about Colby, you noticed Sam, Colby, Nate and Seth leaving the house so you quickly covered Ghostie with the blanket and your body.

You knew you would have to eventually tell boys about her but you decided it’s better for them to cool down after exploring first and then visit the vet.

You only hoped that Ghostie will be silent on your way home.

After few minutes while boys were saying goodbye to theirs guests, they got into the car and you asked “How was it?”

“It was great, love! We got so many evidences on the camera.” Colby smiled at you and started telling you everything about their investigations with Sam adding something sometimes.

So far your plan was working. You were already in LA, almost in your house and neither Colby or Sam noticed the presence of a little cat.

But unfortunately, Ghostie felt left out by boys and demanded attention by really loud meow.

Your eyes immediately got wide while Colby looked in the direction of the sound - your direction, and Sam narrowed his brows but didn’t looked away from the road.

“Y/n? What was that?”

“Why it sounded… like a cat?” asked Sam and you laughed awkwardly.

But you didn’t have to explain yourself. Ghostie did that for you by jumping out from where she was bundled in the blanket and got onto your boyfriend’s laps, demanding pets.

“And who’s that?” asked Colby while giving the cat pets she was asking for, but also looking back at you with something that was between amusement and resignation. He already knew what happened.

“Why there’s cat in my car?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, by the way Sam, turn left and go to nearby vet, please.” you asked and then you looked at Colby and laughed awkwardly again “Guess the cat’s out of bag now.”

He just sighed and shook his head.

“Does it have an owner?”

“Yeah” you nodded “Us.”

Colby looked at you with wide eyes.

“You don’t know if it had owners before?” he asked and you shyly shook your head “So you basically stole a cat?”

“She was under the car while I was waiting for you guys! And look at her, it’s obvious she was a stray.”

Colby only sighed but you could tell. He didn’t mind it, he just wasn’t expecting it.

“Her name is Ghostie.” you added silently and you could see that Colby was starting to smile.

“I like it.” he said and you bit back a wide smile that wanted to appear on your face.

“We’re here guys.” Sam announced parking next to an animal clinic.

You got out of the car with Colby while Sam declared he will wait in the car.

“I hope you know it was irresponsible.” Colby said to you while taking your hand with his free one and with the other one still holding Ghostie.

“Yeah, but you want to keep her.” you stated with a smirk and he only rolled his eyes and held door open for you.

“Whatever.” he snorted and kissed your forehead before heading to receptionist’s desk.

Now you were officially a family of three.

[ellieslittlewh0re]

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - you and ellie have been dating for a few months. everything is great- perfect even, but you two haven’t had sex yet… ellie is always telling you to take your time, there’s no rush- but you’re finally ready, and ellie is going to give you the proper experience.

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 - this is v self indulgent lol, fluff, canon jackson ellie behavior, smut, MINORS DNI

Her hands were chill to the touch, and rough against the skin of your thigh, but you didn't mind.

It had been 3 months since you started dating Jackson's designated "it" girl, and by "it" girl- that really means that everyone seems to be a little scared of her for one reason or another. Maybe it was because her face screamed "don't fucking talk to me".

That didn't stop you though. 

You had your eyes on her since you arrived through those gates- baby faced and painfully ignorant to Jackson's way of living. It was scary- terrifying even. You weren't sure if you could ever get used to it, but with time and the loving care you had received from the community, it slowly became your normal, and Ellie became your main focus.

"Babe, you're not paying attention to the movie." Ellie huffed, annoyed that you weren't as invested in the film as she was- it was one of her favorites after all.

Little does she know, you were too busy thinking about her, and how far you've come to get to this point.

You giggled, sinking further into her on the bed of her detached garage/home. You wrapped both your arms around her bicep, smiling as you place a kiss on the apple of her cheek, "m' sorry Els, guess I was just distracted." You shrugged, not really expecting her to understand.

But she did understand- painfully so. She may not be good at showing it, but when she saw you that day- day fucking one of you showing up in Jackson- she knew that you would make things that much harder for her. And of fucking course it was her luck that you got paired with her during your first outing of patrol.

Seeing you up close- that sparkle in your eye and the way you laughed so freely like the world wasn't actively ending... it did something to her, something she couldn't explain. Her thoughts were consumed of you- wether it was a glimpse of you she stole earlier in the day or her imagination running wild when she too pent up to sleep.

Now, she doesn't have to imagine it. It was real- YOU were real, and you were hers.

"Distracted? How can you be distracted when there's dinosaurs on the tv?" She asked perplexed, throwing her hand up motioning to the not-so-great looking cgi creatures.

Tension between you two had been rising exponentially high these past few weeks. Even though you have been dating for a while, you two hadn't had sex yet, and that was because of you.

It's not like you didn't want to or you hadn't thought about it, but you were still a virgin, and Ellie always made it clear that it's on your terms- no one else's.

But your birthday just passed, and Ellie made sure you had the best day- making you breakfast, taking you to her super secret spot down by the lake that she guaranteed only the "coolest" people knew about, and you wanted to show your gratitude and appreciation for her- plus the urges whenever you were around her were growing harder to ignore.

Your stomach fluttered, feeling the heat from her body pressed against yours, her hand that never seemed to want to leave your thigh- it felt like the right moment.

You slightly lift yourself off the bed, swinging your leg over her hips as gracefully as you could so you could straddle her. Ellie holds her hands up, not touching you because she was genuinely surprised by your actions. She lets out a chuckle, thinking you were in one of your moods where'd you'd hold her down and borderline torture her with your ruthless tickle attacks, but instead- you leaned in, ghosting your lips over her neck before placing kisses to the skin below her ear.

Ellie's hands move from your hips to the plush of your ass, squeezing the flesh gently in her hands, "oh yeah? Is this is what we're doing now?" She let out a breathy chuckle, tilting her head to the side to give you more access.

"Mmhm." You muffled a response into neck before sucking lightly, pulsing the skin between your lips like how she had done to you so many times before.

Ellie's eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the hot, wet sensation of your mouth on her. Her fingers tightened on your ass, body shifting slightly underneath you because her boxers suddenly felt way too fucking tight.

"Fuck- do you have any idea what you do to me?" She almost confesses, biting down on her bottom lip enough to leave a metallic taste on her tongue.

"I'm not doing anything, just kissing ya." You act innocent, but in your defense you really didn't know what you were doing, but you could tell it was doing something to her by the way her hands grabbed more harshly at your hips and sides, littering your skin with crescent indents everywhere her fingers went.

As hard as Ellie was trying to be patient with you, she was slowly losing control. Mentally, she was punching her head- knocking some morals back into her brain, but fuck-

Your teeth grazed her skin, sending goosebumps down her limbs, "I wanna do it, Els... m'ready."

You pull away, cheeks flushed and lips even more so- batting your eyelashes, and embarrassed out of your mind because you weren't sure how dumb you sounded to your more experienced girlfriend.

But Ellie doesn't think that you sound dumb- instead, she's kicking her feet inside her head, jumping around in a field of wildflowers because you trusted her enough to give yourself over to her at your most vulnerable.

"Babe, are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have-" Ellie rambles, and honestly, it's quite cute. She was trying so hard to be the good girlfriend, but it didn't matter because you were already cutting her off mid sentence with your finger pressed against her lips, "m'sure" you nod your head in assurance before leaning forward to kiss her lips.

She smiled into the kiss as her tongue slipped inside, her arms wrapping around the the smallest part of your waist to pull you closer to her.

She molded herself into you- or maybe you molded yourself to her- just two bodies holding each other, touching skin, and tasting. You've always loved the way she tasted- the way she smelled when she was this close. It was sweet like honeysuckle and wild berries on the vine when the sun was at its highest in the sky.

Ellie's hands came between you two, snaking underneath the leg of your shorts to squeeze the skin. A moan slips passed your lips and into Ellie's mouth, causing her to chuckle into the kiss, "someone's excited."

"Ellieee~" you pouted, shoving your hands between your legs because you felt weird- a bubbling sensation in your lower stomach, waves

of hot and cold pulsating up and down your body,

"oh, I'm sorry baby, did I embarrass you?"

You nodded shyly, swirling your hips on her lap without notice.

Ellie fakes a sympathetic pout, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you poor thing," she said with not a hint of sympathy- instead, dripping with malice.

Ellie wasn't doing it on purpose though, she could never. She was going to savor this moment- the moment right before the storm until it was long past, forgotten between bare skin, linen sheets, and her senses filled with you.

Her hands hold your face, stroking her thumb over the apple of your cheek, pulling you into to her to kiss you. It was slow, deep- the kind of kiss that felt like a goodbye.

You moan into it, arching your back under her touch, mind fuzzy because all you could focus on was getting friction in any way you could, "el-ellie, please." You begged in your sweet, shaky tone that drove her fucking crazy no matter how many times she heard it after a make out session went a little too far.

Ellie's jaw clenches slightly, fisting the sheets beside your knees because she was painfully horny, but tried her best to hide it in front of you. She couldn't bare the embarrassment if you knew all the little things that you did that made her like this- your voice, the way you smelled or even the way you looked at her sometimes. All of it would engrave itself into Ellie's mind, replaying over and over which would slowly shift to all the things she'd want to do to you- wether it'd be something simple like kissing parts of your body that she had never seen before, and the more sinful desires of hers which mostly consisted of your face buried into a pillow, ass high in the air as she uses your hips as handlebars, driving her cock deep inside your dripping cunt-

Yeah, she'd definitely take those secrets to the grave if she could help it...

Her hand travel up your back before her fingers intertwine with your hair, squeezing close to the scalp- not hard, but hard enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Ellie's eyes gleamed with something evil as she relished in the sight on top of her- your half hooded eyes that screamed 'fuck me', your mouth slightly ajar as short quickened breaths escape them.

She used her grip in your hair to pull you in once more, clashing her lips against yours. Your teeth would occasionally bump against hers, but it didn't slow her down.

Things quickly escalated, her hands wrapping around the underside of your thighs as she turned both of you over- leaving you beneath her. Her mouth never left yours as her hand slipped underneath your thin cotton shirt, gently but urgently feeling the plush of your tummy before palming your breast.

You whimper at the sensation of her calloused fingers brushing over your hardened peak- your back arching off the mattress to get closer to her.

She breaks the kiss panting as she lowers to your ear, her warm breath dancing off your skin, "can I take it off?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice to remain steady. She trails kisses along your jaw before sitting up, grabbing the hem of your shirt. You sit up as the fabric is dragged over your back and over your head, leaving your chest on display.

"Fuck-" Ellie breaths out, her eyes twinkling in the warm glow from the bedside lamp, "you're beautiful- so fuckin’ beautiful.." she leans in again for a kiss, but your put your hands to her chest to stop her, "what about you?.. can I see?"

Ellie smirked, flashing a hint of her teeth, "dyin' to catch a glimpse, huh?"

Yes, oh my god, absolutely you were. You can't help feel a little embarrassed by the fact that your girlfriend indirectly called you a pervert, but if your a perv, what does that make her?

Ellie crosses her hands at the bottom of her hoodie, lifting it over her torso and head in one swift motion. You ogle at her toned stomach, slim waist, and prominent v lines that lead your eyes further down.

"This up to your standards?" She quipped, placing her hands on either side of your head.

"Mmm-" you think out loud, tilting your head to the side, "what about this?" You slip a finger into the underside of her sport bra, running it along the hem.

She raises an eyebrow skeptically as you bat your doe eyes at her, "s' only fair." You added, using your sickly sweet voice that made her obey your every command.

She groaned, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks told a different story- bright red and full from the smile she couldn't shake.

She sits back up, removing the article of clothing before coming back down, "happy?"

You nodded your head enthusiastically, wrapping your arms around her to feel her back. Your hands caress the skin- free of the distractions of clothes- from her shoulder blades, spine, and the curve of every muscle- you take your time to familiarize yourself with it all.

She kissed you, holding your face in one hand as the other propped herself up. It was slow, sweet and full of love, but also impatiently brutish- full of desire.

Her lips trialed down, kissing your chin, down your neck and collarbones, and scattering them over the delicate skin- leaving a trail to find her way back home to your lips.

"What about this?" She asked quietly, her breath brushing against the skin above your waistband.

You met her eyes and nod, quickly throwing your head back against the pillow because you were too embarrassed to make eye contact with her as she starts to tug down your shorts.

You lift your hips up, allowing her to drag the fabric down your legs- tossing your shorts to the side as it reaches your ankles.

"Huh-" Ellie scoffed to herself which caught your attention, "what?" You asked all worried something was wrong.

"You do this yourself?" She raised an eyebrow- the corner of her lips tugging up into a lopsided smirk as her fingers brush over the pink embroidered heart in the middle of your panties.

"Oh my god-" you whined as you cover your face in your hands, but Ellie couldn't find it more endearing.

It got her going honestly- how pure, innocent, and untainted you were- knowing that no one has ever seen or touched you like this.

She shimmied lower on the bed, positioning herself between your legs- eye level with your clothed covered cunt. She kissed your inner thighs, her tongue trialing over the skin so delicately.

You close your eyes, toes curling inside of your socks as you focus on her touch. It was hot- burning almost, and it felt magnified. Every pore, hair, and fiber was reacting to her.

Her warm breathed brushed against you as she tugged your panties to the side so it only covered your center, sucking your outer lips- pulling the skin back and letting it fall back into place with a soft *plop*.

She fisted the fabric between her fingers, letting it fold into you as she pulled it upwards- letting it grind against your clit. As soft wine emits from you as you start to squirm, letting your knees drift further apart.

Ellie isn't done teasing you. She loved getting you all worked up over something so small- it's not like it was hard.

Next, she smooths your panties over your puffy cunt, palming it roughly with the base of her wrist bumping your bud as she locked her eyes into your face- watching your eyebrows pinch in aroused frustration, your bottom lip sinking between your teeth. "El-Ellie, please." You barely make out, almost like a dogs beloved toy- airy and only faintly squeaky. "Mm-? What is it? Use your words, baby- I need words." She mocked in her annoyingly cocky tone as she kissed the center of your soaked panties, tasting you through the cotton.

You hiccup- finding the strength to talk, "I need- mmhm.. need your tongue, Els." Your bottom lip pouty and glistening from your spit as you look down at her with begging eyes. Ellie chuckled into your center, sending a vibration through core, "see? That wasn't so hard." Again with the cocky remarks, but really it was just a cover to hide how fucking eager she was.

You lift your hips as her fingers laced into the hem of your underwear, pulling them down to to reveal you in you're most natural form. Her hands quickly found shelter on top of your thighs, hooking her arms underneath your legs to secure you further. You were locked in tight- no one was getting in or out like a panic room or a sealed vault.. not unless Ellie says otherwise. The tip of her tongue tempted a tease- feathering delicate swipes over your glistening folds, but once she had a a taste, there was no point to holding back. She was instantly hooked on the tangy taste mixed with a sweet cider- hooked on no matter how wet you already were, your slick only seemed to keep coming like a never ending supply. "All for her" she thought, and she's not one to let something go to waste.

You fisted the sheets by your side, threatening to close your thighs around her head but she forced them open- her fingers tugging apart the skin on thighs to spread you open further. "this all for me, huh?- " She heaved between the laps of her tongue before flexing the muscle and sinking into your cunt. You cry out as your nails sink into the inked lines of her forearm. Ellie must have liked this reaction, but she wanted more, "answer me, baby." She commanded in a tone that you've only ever heard her use when she was being dead serious. It startled you a little so you meet her eyes with your glossy ones, giving her a nod. 

She chuckled lowly, a deep rattle coming from her chest as she brought her hand down, running a finger through your glossy mixture, "say it-" she sunk her finger into you, but not enough to make you feel full. You wine in frustration, a tear spilling over the full of your cheek, "f-for you.. mmph- 's all for you, ellie-"

The air inside your lungs gets cut off as her finger plunged into you, slipping it out only to repeat.

She takes her time- relishing in the sounds of your sopping cunt sucking her back in, and the soft moans that danced off your tongue.

Her mouth latched back onto your neglected bud as she continued to stretch you out- curling her finger inside before she added a second one, "so good, baby.. - fuck.. such a good fuckin' girl." She panted- more liked chanted praises, but not really directed at anyone in particular- more like she was drunk off you- delirious, and wide eyed like making you cum was the only thing she was put on this earth to do.

A pressure was building inside your tummy, and if she kept going- it had nowhere else to go. "El... feels- feels weird.." you choke between each thrust, your voice shaky as it got caught in your throat. Ellie flicks her tongue over your swollen, clit "it's okay, baby. I got you" she cooed, using her free hand to press on the back of your thigh so your knee bounced off your chest with each thrust. But this time- it reached deeper, hitting against your spongy core harder than before. She suctioned your clit between her lips, letting it go as she pulled back.

She sat up, never faltering her pace inside you as you ass bounced against her crotch with each blow she gave you.

You marvel at her- even though her chest was exposed, the position of her towering over you, her crotch lined up with your entrance as you became mush underneath her- you can't help but feel a power dynamic was at play.

You tense under her, your limbs and stomach tightening as you come undone around her fingers. She fucked you through it, whispering sweet praises of "good girl- you're doing so good, baby... such a pretty little thing "

She slow to exit you, knowing your sensitive right now. She leans over you, placing her hands either side of your head to plant a simple kiss to your lips before she leaves to the bathroom, coming back with a washcloth that was damp with warm water. She sits back down with your legs over hers, carefully cleaning you up. When she's done, she helps you get dressed- dressing you in her t-shirt and her comfiest pair of boxers.

Your head instantly finds sanctuary on her chest as soon as she joins you in the bed. She holds you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head- not bothering to continue the movie, just laying together in the silence that was occasionally broken up between hums and soft breathing.

Her fingers dance over the bare skin of your upper arm, resting her chin into of your head, "well-" she chuckles, "was it everything you hoped for?"

You looked up at her, stretching your neck to peck her lips before nuzzling into her, "no, it was more."

☆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @machetegirl109

[mitch-the-silly]

Could you write a nsfw Vox x fem!reader where Vox comes home from work, feeling really stressed and asks for the reader’s consent if he could relive that stress on her? Like he’s being really rough on her and maybe praising her too? 👉👈 Nothing too extreme though, and I find consent sexy.

HELL YEAHHH I CAN!! This is exactly what I was waiting for!!! A reason to write Vox smut. What can I say? I'm but a simple creature.

Vox would for sure do that relieving stress via sex thing. Especially since he's always pressed about something and because I like to think he's at least a bit of a manchild.

Anyway, thanks for the request!!

"Take a Breather or Two...?"

Vox x fem!Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI!!!

Warnings: NSFW, Stress relief sex, praise kink, rough sex

You sat silently on the bed that you and Vox shared. With your headphones on, listen to whatever it was that the shuffle button deemed fit for that moment. The feeling of the silky, dark grey sheets against your skin felt heavenly. Vox was going to be home any moment now, and you’d be there to greet him as always. It was simply the way things had been for a while now. He’d work, and you’d spend some much-deserved time with him at home.

You heard the door open and immediately sat up on the bed. However, the slamming of the front door was what made you raise a brow.

“I can’t fucking believe it!” Vox yelled from the living room. He finally entered your shared bedroom, untying his bowtie and sitting at the edge of the bed. He stared at the wall for a second then, covering his eyes with his hands, he kicked the air in frustration. “Ugh, you have no idea what a day I’ve had…” He sighed.

“What happened? Tell me…” You spoke, placing your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. He let out a small relieved breath as you did this. After that, he continued.

“First of all, Alastor fucking tried me again today! Not to mention that I had to cancel three of the ten shows that generated the most revenue because the lead actress was taken out in the last extermination and we didn’t know because she went on vacation and said she’d be back in a month. And on top of that Valentino has been throwing the most stupid tantrums. Ughhh!” He vented, “I need to take out some steam.” He gave you a bit of an unrecognizable look. He seemed to be generating an idea. However, there was no way for you to know without asking.

“That sounds like a good solution, Voxxie. You got something in mind? I can see the gears turning in your head~” You teased.

After pondering his idea for a brief moment, Vox continued proceeding to speak his mind. “I want you.” He spoke bluntly. “Yes, fucking your brains out would make me feel so much better.” He added, his breath shuddering slightly. He scooted closer toward you and caressed your face gently. “Can I do that baby~? I’ll only do it if you let me…” he pouted. Almost begging, but based on his tone, it was apparent he was willing to drop the subject if you did not want to do it.

You nodded softly. But that wasn’t enough confirmation for him. “No no, use your words.” He replied in a commanding tone.

“Yes, I’d like that. It sounds like fun.~” You spoke, this time telling him outright that you wanted this.

Vox nodded, “Ok, I’ll try not to be too rough. Just… fuck you’re so fucking sexy…~” He sighed, letting out a desperate little exhale.

Vox reached for your hips, instantly pulling off your pants along with your panties. He wasn’t one for teasing when he needed it. Without wasting a second, he split your legs open, gently tracing the inside of your upper thighs. He licked his lips desperately, determined to make you feel good before he fucked his anger out on you. He leaned his head towards your private area, giving your clit a gentle lick.

You shuddered in pleasure, letting out a small whimper. This drove him absolutely mad. So much so, that he could feel the need to continue this coming from within his core. So he licked along your labia, circling your clit hungrily until you were just as wet as he wanted you. The sounds of your juices gushing as he licked you up, oh it was making him want to do all sorts of things to you. And thus, after hearing how wet you were now, he stopped.

He sat up, looking at you with a certain hunger in his eyes. There was a primal need for more taking over him, not quite clouding his mind but filling him with a haze. “You’re being such a good girl for me.~” Vox cooed, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down to his knees. He scrambled to his waist area and took his cock in his hand. Needily aligning himself to your entrance. The sight of his cock on your labia made him shiver impatiently. He rubbed his tip on your clit, gasping out a small shudder

After getting a gasp out of you, he smirked, inserting himself into your entrance. “So tight for me~” He chuckled, very slowly moving in and out of you. You moaned relentlessly, wrapping your legs around him as he mercilessly bucked his hips into you. The sensation made you moan out his name. Reaching out to hold him, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He indulged in its taste, savoring your mouth with absolute ecstasy. The second he parted the kiss, he bucked his hips faster.

Vox’s screen began to lag, the image of his eyes freezing up as he looked directly at you. “Fuck~ You’re so fucking pretty like this~ So good for me~” Vox groaned, his voice distorted and sort of glitched out. It was way too obvious he was enjoying himself.

“Ahh~! V-vox, I’m… I’m close…~” You whined, bouncing back as he pumped himself into you.

“You wanna cum baby~? You want me to make you cum~?” Vox cooed, groaning, desperately chasing his own orgasm. You nodded desperately, whining, feeling a warmth pool up in your insides. He was making you feel so good that you couldn’t turn thoughts into words anymore.

Vox let out a laugh, an amalgamation of amusement and absolute arousal. The flat-screen television he had as a head began sparking as his strokes became more uneven and deep. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me~ So fucking good…~ You’re gonna make me cum so deep inside you…~” He slurred, seemingly so high on the pleasure that he didn’t seem to give a shit about the malfunctioning lights in the room. He took in the sound of your moans and pants, letting the vibrations course through his being. He had to feel you cum around his cock. He needed to feel it. So he reached his hand down towards your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. You squirmed under his touch, an orgasm approaching faster than before, and you bucked your hips into him. And as you began to get tighter and tighter, the lights began to flash faster. “Yes~… Yes…~ So fucking pretty all stuffed up with my cock…~ Look at that beautiful fucking face…~” he groaned in absolute adoration.

And suddenly, with a hard thrust and a loud grunt, Vox found the climax he so sought, darkness engulfing the once-lit room, his monitor showing the “ERROR” screen. Yet, he didn’t dare stop the way he was touching you. Oh no, he needed to feel you reach your climax as well. He rubbed faster and faster, enduring the overstimulation of keeping you around him, your walls pulsating. He began to whine a bit himself, in all honesty. Until, finally, you arched your back in, your hips spasming as you eventually reached that orgasm he just needed you to have. The sensation of your walls around him, driving him absolutely mad. So much so, that the room’s power returned, but only for the split second in which your walls squeezed him in the midst of your climax. He’d never felt this good before and he swore he wanted more of this.

He pulled out of you, wincing at the sensation and then collapsing next to you. He tried to catch his breath, looking at you doing the exact same thing. Once he felt his breathing was stable, he got up and looked around for a towel. Once he found one, he returned to your side and cleaned you up. “There you go…” He chuckled, “You know, I don’t think that in all the time I’ve been in hell or in the years I was alive I've had sex this good.~” He smirked, pulling you closer, holding you by the hips. Looking at you with that same look of adoration he gave you before.

“You’re not stressed anymore, huh?” You chuckled, gliding your index finger under the bottom part of his monitor; returning his playful little smirk.

“They can go fuck themselves. My steam’s been blown.” He responded, kissing your lips one more time. Needless to say, this might be his go-to when he gets this badly pissed off.

[xaytheloser]

For Your Own Good.

Prowl X Cybertronian! Reader who was raised on Earth scenario! warnings: obsessive behavior, no specified continuity, Prowl is a delusional prick I suppose, possible ooc Prowl, implied death of a family member

Earth had been your home your entire life, from the moment your mom found you in a tiny safety pod that crashed into the backyard of her farm away from the large city she lived near. She had no idea what you were, but she knew that she couldn't leave you there, small and defenseless..

you were just like a normal human baby, but, well... metal?? you grew a lot bigger when you reached your teenage years, nonetheless, your mother took care of you. she feed you what she thought a baby of you,, unique qualities would consume, she washed you when you got dirty, and of course when you got older she taught you how to help around the farm.

there was only one rule.

stay at the farm.

mother was so worried about a scenario where you are discovered by another human. what would happen to you? would you be taken away and experimented on like those awful sci-fi movies? would you have to be on the run? she couldn't bear to think it. so she made the stern rule that you are to never leave the farm unless absolutely necessary.

...

then they came.

creatures that looked like you, made of metal, you saw them whilst watching t.v. with mom through the house window. you where so excited! finally! you found out what you were! where you came from! it was also the day that mother finally decided it was safe for you to explore outside the farm, meet the creatures that were like you, find out who and what you are. it was hard for her, but she knew that you would be alright... at least she hoped...

...

Prowl had very mixed feelings about you when you first meet him and his fellow autobots.

you were... odd. you were loud. you were annoyingly curious about everything... and worst of all, he strangely didn't seem to mind..?

something about you.. drew him in. you had no idea what you even where, and for some reason, you stuck to him the most. it was odd.. like a breath of strange fresh air..

the way you looked at him as he spoke about basic knowledge that every other regular cybertronian should know already, but you didn't.. the look of wonder and amazement you had on your face only drew him in more..

you were so strange.. yet so... endearing..?

of course he never said any of this to you out loud, but he found himself growing more attached to you, which he found ridiculous in his own regard..

you are a distraction. he would tell himself. someone who strays him from his intended purpose.

but on the other hand.. he didn't want you to leave him alone either..

he could be selfish just this once, no? indulge you in facts that every other cybertronian should know at this point.. in fact, it's not entirely selfish is it? no! he's helping you learn who you are. who you were meant to be..

It's for your own good... right? you should know where you truly come from.... in fact... he'll do you one better.. he can bring you there.

one day, he offers to bring you to cybertron, to actually be where you truly came from.. to taste actual energon for the first time.. he'll be your guide, teach you everything the is to know and more-

"no."

"...what do you mean 'no'..?"

"I mean, I don't want to go to Cybertron."

...what?

"what are you even saying? all these months of telling about Cybertron, of you constantly asking where you came from, I give you a chance to actually go there and you say 'no'-?"

"I appreciate everything you've taught me, all of it, really. but I have a home here. With my mom. I can't just leave her here. everything I know is here. on Earth."

oh yes. your "mother", Prowl had meet her a couple of times. to be honest, he never really cared for her to begin with. she was paranoid, always being so paranoid. always nagging.

... Maybe he should do something about that.

"..."

".. Prowl..? are you ok?"

".... I have to do something."

Prowl transformed into his alt mode, and he sped off.. you've never seen him in such a hurry before.. you were worried.. ....

........

you fell to your knees.. eyes wide in terror and disbelief..

the farm... your house... the only thing you've ever known since you've landed here on Earth..

It was all in flames.

"...It was the most efficient solution." Prowl muttered behind you. you turned your helm and looked at him, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.. it was like you voice box was frozen.. "this place was in the way, it was distracting you. now, you can come ho-" "... wh... where's my mom..?" Prowl was silent, he looked away for a brief second, and then looked back to you.. you repeated your question, only louder, and angrier.

"WHERE IS SHE PROWL?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MOM!?"

"... that doesn't matter." was his only response. he placed his servo along you back, like he was trying to comfort you in a sick sense... "now you have nothing left to stay here for," he shoved you to the ground, holding your servos behind your back as he forced them into stasis cuffs. "now you can come back home. your real home. with me." his look softened, if only for a second..

"you may not understand it now, but I am doing what is best for you."