#search for the star drift

[bel-by-the-sea]

[OCs] some old characters

[bluerosefox]

Over Tea

A sudden chill sweeps through Gotham, almost like Mr. Freeze had just attacked only thing was the man was currently locked away in Arkham, and was felt by all. And talked by all via word of mouth and on social media as well.

The clouds and smog that covered their dark city shifted and swirled, a rumble beginning deep inside them as the weather turned from smoggy to rain and thunder with no real warning. The strangest thing was the green glow that could be seen when thunder rumbled inside the gray clouds.

Then like a candle being blown out, the rumbling stopped, the rain ended, and the clouds parted all over Gotham.

For the first time in a while Gotham had a clear sky and it felt... it felt like something heavy had been lifted off the city.

It was this sudden shift and the all felt chill that had set off alerts for Batman and his family. Since early morning since the first change and shift happened he was in front of the Batcomputer trying to narrow down where it started.

After hours of searching with the help of Red Robin, Oracle and strangely enough Red Hood, they managed to narrow down where the odd power had been coming from.

Was still coming from, only very low.

The old and abandoned observatory tower.

-x-x-

"More ecto-tea Lady Gotham?" Danny asked, his hand waving towards the steaming pot nearby.

The woman smiled lightly, her dark painted lips curling up to show her sharp fangs for a moment before saying "No but thank you Young Kingling though I would like more cookies if you don't mind. Now where were we?"

Danny nodded towards her and signaled towards a maid skeleton ghost who walked forward with a tray of cookies. The maid swiftly placed a few more cookies on the spirit embodiment of Gotham plate before bowing and stepping away.

"We were just about to discuss the sentience of the Court of Owls." Danny said as he lightly tapped the large almost mountain of paperwork on the table they were sitting at, floating high above the floor as shooting stars and planets drifted around them. Many ghosts floated around as well, servants that had sworn their loyalty to the Young King, and were preparing things like snacks and drinks for two powerful beings in the room as they discussed business. Nearby doors and windows though were ghostly knights that stood tall and alert, making sure no interlopers interrupted the meeting taking place and ready to defend not only Lady Gotham but their King.

"Ah yes them." Lady Gotham grimaced as she took a drink of her ecto-tea. "That will take some time for us to discuss, they've been running around unchecked for to long and even with my limited abilities to hinder them has been less than ideal."

"You, Lady G, were deeply cursed for many, many years and I just broke most of it." Danny cut in quickly, he was not about to let this wonderful and powerful city spirit blame herself for something out of her hands "Due to said curse you couldn't do much so please don't go blaming yourself. Its mostly broken now, so you can freely start healing yourself and your city self now that jerk demon that cursed you is in Walker's prison for his crimes."

Lady Gotham grew silent for a moment, her dark eyes staring deeply at the young King but then warmly smiled, well as warm as she could seeing how she was Gotham itself. "You reminded me of my Knight, Young King, treating me like this. Not afraid to point out the truth and facts."

Danny gave a light laugh as he took a hold of one of the cookies on his plate and gave a bite "I'll take that as a compliment Lady Gotham. Now about those Court of Owls...."

[ahqkas]

Hello! I love your writings and I hope you are doing well <3 I would like to request Theo fluff on where reader has terrible time sleeping because she is use to having her teddy bear in her arms ever since she was a child. Like she thrown her teddy away because she was scared she would be make fun of. So she seeks Theodore so he in be in her arms. It’s just sweet fluff as Theodore smiles lovingly at her 🥺

-😴

TEDDY PICKER ; theodore nott

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

YOU TOSSED AND TURNED IN YOUR BED, THE SILENCE OF YOUR DORMITORY ONLY AMPLIFYING THE RESTLESSNESS YOU FELT. You had tried everything — counting stars, breathing exercises, even reading the most mundane passages from your textbooks — but nothing worked. The familiar comfort of your teddy bear was absent, a void you had created out of fear of ridicule.

Frustration mounting, you finally sat up, the moonlight casting a gentle glow through the window into your room. You couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness in your arms, the comforting weight of your childhood companion gone. With a sigh, you threw back the covers and slipped out of bed, your bare feet silent on the cold floor. There was only one place you could think of, one person you felt drawn to in your moment of need. Your beloved lover.

Quietly, you made your way through the darkened corridors, your heart pounding with both nerves and a strange sense of hope. You found yourself at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, hesitating only for a moment before whispering the password Theo had once shared with you in a moment of trust.

The room was dimly lit, a few embers glowing softly in the fireplace warmly. You navigated the shadows, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and made your way to the boys’ dormitory. Standing outside Theo’s door, you took a deep breath before gently knocking on the wood.

A few moments passed before the door creaked open, revealing Theo’s sleepy yet alert form. His silver eyes softened with recognition and concern when he saw you so unexpectedly late at his door. “[Name]? What’s wrong?”

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood you, but the need for comfort outweighed the pride you held. “I . . . I can’t sleep. I know it sounds silly, but I used to sleep with a teddy bear. I got rid of it because I was afraid people would laugh at me, and now I can’t sleep without something to hold. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Theo’s expression softened further, a tender smile curving his lips. He reached out, gently pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you. The room was empty of the other boys, just with the two of you inside. “It’s not silly at all,” he murmured, guiding you towards his bed. “We all need something to comfort us.”

The Slytherin boy settled onto the bed and opened his arms, offering you the warmth and safety you so desperately craved. And with a grateful smile, you climbed in beside him, resting your head against his chest soundly. His arms encircled your form, pulling you close, and you immediately felt a wave of calm wash over you.

Theo’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, his breath warm against your hair. “You’re safe here,” he whispered and his voice sounded like a gentle lullaby. “I’ve got you.”

You nestled deeper into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace. The comfort of his presence filled the void left by your teddy bear, the warmth of his body easing the tension from your aching muscles.

And as sleep began to claim you, you felt Theo press a soft kiss to the top of your head, his sweet smile evident in the tenderness of the gesture. “Sweet dreams, bella,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering affection he held for you.

In Theo’s arms, you found the solace you had been searching for, the comfort that only he could provide. And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was where you belonged — safe, cherished, and wrapped in the loving embrace of the boy who had become your anchor in the night.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

[alatushours]

☆ SLEEPYHEAD, feat. roronoa zoro — no matter how tired he is, zoro is always willing to keep you company.

contents. gender neutral reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship. soft zoro ! ! ! post-timeskip but can be read any time after the crew receives the sunny. tw. insomnia, reader is gn but lives in the women’s quarters, maybe ooc zoro ♡ word count. 616

notes. aaand mari finally makes a comeback !!! so sorry to keep you all waiting for so long, i lost my spark for a while. however i am excited to say that this is my official one piece writing debut !!! (love potion doesn’t count guys) i think about zoro everyday,,, he’s such a comfort character to me <3 sorry for any mistakes, i haven’t written in a very long time ♡

when you can’t sleep, you go look for zoro on the sunny.

peeking open the door of the girl's cabin, you step out in your sandals onto the wooden deck, the floorboards slightly creaking. walking to the port side of the ship, you watch the reflection of the stars over the open sea before moving to search for your lover.

sometimes zoro might be sitting on night watch at the bow, or in the kitchen for a midnight snack. most of the time though, he’s up in the crow’s nest training or catching up on sleep away from the rowdiness of the men’s cabin.

you find him doing the latter tonight, his swords cradled in his folded arms as he dozed. you smile and close the door quietly behind you, careful not to disturb him.

however, zoro stirs, his eye peeking open. “hey. what’re ya doing?”

well, there goes that. “sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. “i was just coming to look for you.”

he chuckles softly. “couldn’t sleep again, huh? why didn’t you just say so?”

you smile sheepishly. “sorry… i had too much coffee today, and then earlier me and the girls were watching a horror movie on the video transponder snail, so now i’m up.”

you shrug, and your boyfriend laughs again. “c’mere.”

you make your way to snuggle into zoro’s chest. his gold earrings clink together as he shifts, his arms moving to wrap around your waist. “how was your day?” you ask him, absentmindedly tracing the scar on his torso.

“nothin’ interesting,” he replies, his voice raspy in your ear. “just training ‘nd watch, the usual.” but you could tell he was tired, from the way he was blinking slowly every few seconds to keep himself from falling asleep. “whadda ‘bout you?”

you talk to him for a few minutes, telling him about how you and chopper caught a load of fish today (and how luffy ended up eating all of it at the end, to sanji’s anger). zoro chuckles, smiling as he listened to your ramblings.

after a while, zoro hums, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair. “sorry, i needa sleep,” he whispers in your ear. “nami said we’re gonna get to the next island real early in the mornin’ so i gotta keep watch. you can sleep here with me if ya want, though.”

“oh, okay,” you intertwine your fingers with his, making yourself comfortable against the warmth of his body. “will you call me when you wake up? i wanna watch the sunrise with you.”

your boyfriend nods slowly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “sure. now go to sleep, yeah? i’ll be here if ya need me.”

“okayyy,” you draw out the word. “oh, one more thing.”

he groans, “what is it?”

you grin at him, giving him a kiss on the lips. “i love you, ‘zo.”

zoro smacks your ass playfully, but not without returning the kiss. “yeah, yeah, i know. i love you too. now seriously, go to sleep!”

you giggle, closing your eyes to the soft lull of his breathing. eventually, you drift off to sleep, not knowing that your lover was still awake to ensure your peaceful rest.

zoro would slice up mountains, cut the moon in half and bring the pieces back to you if you asked; he'd do anything for you. your needs always come first; after all, he will always be indebted to the love that you showed him, what seemed like not so long ago. something as small as helping you fall asleep was nothing compared to your love, your utter adoration for him.

plus, he always slept better with you at his side.

end notes. the fact that it took me a month to write the first half of this and the other half in less than a day… and it’s still not even 1k words 😭 idk how i used to do it omg. but anyhoo soft zoro soft zoro soft zoro ! ! ! i’m normal about him i swear

© alatushours 2024. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and consider leaving a follow! it helps a lot ♡

[onlygarden]

[noona, i'm not just a cutie] - nishimura ri-ki

genre: fluff

description: ni-ki starts to grow tired of you babying him; he wants you to see him as your dependable prince-like boyfriend. ni-ki gets pretty dramatic but it's all meant to be taken lightheartedly. established relationship : )

a/n: my heart is GOING to explode i love him sooooo so much i wanna pinch his little cutie squishy angel face

ni-ki adored your every move to the extent that he couldn’t ever hope to properly describe it in words. with the way you always smiled at him so fondly, he knew your heart swelled with the same adoration for him, and that fact sent sparks of elation running through him. you were always so doting; you always lavished him with affection, and he truly loved it. he loved you so much, that he was sure his heart would stop beating without your presence. 

what he didn’t love, however, was the way you’d find the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks or squeeze his face in between your hands (especially when he smiled). sure, you were a little older than him, but that didn’t give you the right to handle him like he was a little boy. you always claimed he was your ‘little baby’, comparing him to all sorts of cute animals or soft inanimate objects. sure, whenever he grabbed your attention to tell you how pretty he thought you were it made a shy smile dance across your face, but you always bounced right back to treating him so delicately like he had ‘handle with care’ written across his forehead. 

your contact photo for him was even kiiroitori; he’ll never forget his confusion when you enthusiastically insisted he looked ‘just like him.’ these actions from you always left him utterly humiliated, feeling less like your boyfriend and more like a child. he grew annoyed at even the mere thought of you seeing him as a child. ni-ki was determined to prove to you that he was a chivalrous, dashing boyfriend and young man, not the squishy little baby boy that you painted him to be. 

“ni-ki, i made you a snack!” your cheery voice reaches his ears from your position in the kitchen. ni-ki stands up with the intention of approaching you, but he notices you already moseying your way into the living room with the snack you prepared for him. 

“just sit down baby, i don’t mind bringing it to you,” you tell him warmly, and he smiles a bit at your generosity before reclaiming his spot on the couch. 

as you hand him what you’ve prepared, his smile falls from his face. his hands now held a small bowl of various fruits cut into the shape of stars and hearts, and a glass of juice with a swirly straw gaudily perched inside. he stared at you as you traveled to another room in the house, happily oblivious to the embarrassment he was experiencing right now. 

you just couldn’t be serious.

it’s not like he didn’t appreciate you for graciously taking the time to prepare something for him with such thought. the sentiment was well received, but this was just way over the top. 

what was next, a tricycle? he was fed up. 

he gently sets down the two dishes on the coffee table in front of him before advancing through the house in search of you. he needed this to end.

he discovers you, carrying a basket of folded towels, and moves to grab them from you before you can reach the stairs. this was his chance to put a new side of him on display, he thought. 

“here, let me carry it for you,” ni-ki asserts, gently shifting the weight of the basket to his hands rather than yours. 

“it’s no problem ni-ki, i can carry it,” you smile with fondness, moving to return the basket to your grasp. 

ni-ki speaks again, interrupting your movements; 

“i can’t have my pretty girlfriend carrying this all by herself. let me do it,” ni-ki tells you, a charming lilt drifting through his voice. 

you blush at his bold, charismatic words, the deepness of his voice suddenly becoming more apparent to you as your cutie ni-ki shimmers like such a gentleman before your eyes. you manage to utter a “thank you, ni-ki,” as he ascends the stairs. what’s gotten into him? you ponder, moving to sit on the couch as you tried (and failed) to heave yourself out of your ruffled state.

ni-ki returns, plopping beside you, a sharp confidence surging through him and casting an evident smirk across his face. 

however, you once again send ni-ki plummeting meters below the glory he felt from showing you how dependable of a boyfriend he could be; you lift your menacing hand, patting the top of his head, offering him the same tender smile you would give a puppy. 

“stop babying me,” he abruptly requests, his deep voice ironically pouty. “i’m your boyfriend, not some little boy,” he adds.

a coddling expression of sympathy flashes across your face. “i just can’t help it ni-ki, no matter what you do you just look so cute!”

this is torture, you thought. here he was, sitting next to you with an adorably displeased expression scattered across his face, but you would only upset him further if you succumbed to your thoughts and squished him. how does he expect you not to? he surely doesn’t realize how cute he is, you thought. 

you felt guilty, but even as he sat pouting beside you, he still looked overwhelmingly adorable.

“is my baby upset,” you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, poking at his side, a frivolous tenor tracing your actions. 

at this point, you were just ridiculing him on purpose. ni-ki decides to ignore you. he fixates his eyes onto the tv in front of him. 

“ni-ki,” you finally say, your voice now tinged with a mild seriousness. “what’s the matter?” 

he finally turns to face you, satisfied with your kind (yet belated) decision to take him seriously.

ni-ki leans towards you, slowly minimizing the distance between your faces, urging his lips to place a kiss on your cheek with feather like gentleness. he was within such close proximity; your throat began to tighten, and your face warmed up along with it. as if your flustered reactions weren’t already enough, he grabs your face with a mildly tight grip as he ushers a kiss to your lips. ni-ki pulls his face away from yours just enough to allow his eyes to fall into yours, appreciating the way your face beamed so abashedly, as if the realization that he was truly your boyfriend just dawned on you. 

“i’m a baby, right?” he hotly teases you, your mind flustered as this sudden uncharacteristic display from ni-ki makes you dizzy. he smirks at the way you stare up at him, too stunned to form a response. 

you suddenly smile, turning away from him uttering a “yes” and he giggles at the way you stubbornly refuse to meet his eyes. he begins trying to force your eyes to meet his, positioning his face directly in front of yours as you persistently evade his gaze. ni-ki laughs, his lovely eyes sharing a smile with his mouth. “noona, you’re adorable!” he teases, poking your stomach repeatedly, as you futilely attempt to escape his torment. ni-ki wouldn’t dare allow the opportunity to taunt your endearing behavior to sail by him after the constant babying he endured from you.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Dead Man Walking || LN4 {2}

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: Christmas with the Norris’ is a long standing tradition but will that still be the case after this years? Warnings: 18+ only, angst and fluff WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist || one || two

Flo’s old bedroom in her parent’s house hadn’t changed since she moved out. There were still glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that you had helped her to stick up when you were fifteen. Lando had made fun of them and called them lame as walked past the doorway, but he had still come and held your chair stable when you were precariously close to tipping over.

“What are you staring at?” Flo asked as she walked in to find you lying on her bed, eyes on the roof. 

“Nothing, have you picked a dress yet?” She huffed at your question and opened her closet with a shake of her head. “You do realise the party has already started.”

There was no way to miss it with the christmas music drifting up the staircase and echoing along the hall. Every year was the same, it didn’t matter that all their children had left home - Adam and Cisca still held the annual event and attendance was non-negotiable, even for you. 

The bedroom door opposite Flo’s opened and Lando froze from tugging at the black tie as he caught sight of you. A slow smile grew on his face and he started to take a step forward until Flo appeared with a dress in hand. She held the floor length gown up to her body and swayed the metallic-finish material side to side. “What do you think?” 

“Didn’t disco balls go out of fashion in the 80’s?” Lando teased, drawing her attention to the doorway.

“Didn’t ask your opinion, noob,” she shot back as she grabbed the door and shut it in his face. “I can’t believe he’s staying all week too. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

“You should be thinking about your dress right now,” you reminded her as you got up and searched the rack for another option. “Here, this is perfect.”

You could hardly explain to her that you were the real reason Lando was staying local all week. For six months you had stolen nights together, not only avoiding the paparazzi and fans always trying to snap photos of him, but more importantly, Flo. The guilt was a constant fist squeezing your stomach but every time you thought about telling her the truth, the fear of her response kept your lips sealed. Then months had passed by and you thought it would be even worse to admit how long the secret had been kept.

“Babe! This is why you are my best friend,” Flo exclaimed as she dropped what she held to take the emerald green chiffon dress from your hands. “What would I do without you?”

Your smile was forced as you wondered the very same thing. Your mothers had joined the same playgroup before you could walk but you had crawled to Flo and face planted, accidentally headbutting her and making you both cry, but you had been inseparable ever since. Whenever you made a promise to each other it was sealed with the mantra from cradle to grave - ensuring the promise would be as strong and long lasting as your friendship.

You caught the empty hanger she tossed back and hooked it back onto the rack. “End up looking like a disco ball, apparently.”

“Not even,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she shimmied into the dress. “I refuse to take fashion advice from a man who has a hoodie for every occasion.”

You laughed at the completely true statement and pointed at the door. “Not tonight though.”

“That’s not by choice. Mum said he had to smarten up or he would be on dish duty after dinner.” She scoffed as she turned around for you to tie the lace back together. “I told her, wearing a suit won’t make him any smarter.“

You shook your head with a laugh. “If I could get away with wearing a hoodie tonight, I absolutely would too. It feels weird dressing up one day a year. I spent the whole morning here in sweatpants.”

“It’s tradition, and you look gorgeous.”

“I should for the effort I put in,” you giggled, offering your elbow as you opened the bedroom door. “Shall we?”

She looped her arm in yours with a nod as the music downstairs grew with each step. “Let’s do this.”

If you had to listen to another Christmas song you were going to scream, so you escaped the warmth of the Norris’ home and took a breath of wintery air on the balcony where it was less audible. Though there was a chill in the air the eggnog and brandy kept you from feeling the full brunt of the night and you could hardly believe there was snow forecast to fall. 

The only light that reached you was what slipped through the joins of the curtains but it was enough to see the paddocks beyond the grassy lawn. This late in the year the horses that usually grazed the paddocks would be holding up in the stables, away from the morning frosts that occurred daily, but you could still hear their neighs in the distance. 

“Still not a fan of Bublé?”

You smiled to the sky as a pair of cold hands settled on your waist and warm lips found the delicate spot behind your ear. 

“If he hasn’t grown on me by now, I don’t think he ever will.” You turned to face Lando and linked your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” His body started to sway, taking you with him as he hummed the stupid song in your ear, laughing when you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? All I want for Christmas is you.”

Your gaze softened and you smiled again as you tucked your head into his chest and buried your hands in his jacket to try steal some warmth. “Are you cold, love?” he asked, looking back at the warm house where all the log fires were lit.

“No, I’m not ready to go back yet,” you admitted as you cradled his cheek in your hand and guided his attention back to you. “Just a few more minutes together.”

He nodded before giving you a soft kiss and pulling away to shrug his wool suit jacket off and drape it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my girl getting sick for Christmas.”

One Year Earlier “I don’t buy it,” Flo muttered over her flute of champagne as she sat to your left at the dining table, waiting for dinner to be served. 

“Buy what?” you asked as your attention was pulled away from Max on your right, and the pictures of the new simulator he had just finished setting up in his room. 

“Them.” You followed her nod across the room to find Lando on the couch in front of the roaring log fire, his girlfriend sat on his lap as if there weren’t two other cushions available beside him. “There’s no chemistry.”

“Eh,” you shrugged as you grabbed your glass that Max had refilled for you, “since when do you need chemistry if you’re a model or whatever?” 

“You almost sound jealous,” he teased quietly, wary of Flo on the other side. 

“Am not,” you bit back a little too harshly, only making him chuckle more and take a sip of his beer before he said anything else. 

“Dinner will be a little late, I’m afraid,” Cisca announced with a sigh, muttering about the gravy catastrophe. “Adam, honey, turn the music up for a bit.”

“If you aren’t hung up on him, then come have a dance with me,” Max dared as Oliver and his pregnant wife joined Flo’s aunt and uncle dancing in front of the hearth, beneath the twinkling fairy lights. He wiggled his fingers as he waited for you and with a sigh you placed your hand in his and rose from your place setting. 

Flo grinned as you passed by, poking you in the ribs with a laugh and giving you the thumbs up - but Max was only a friend. He could only be a friend because the person you actually pined for was his best friend.

“I know,” he whispered in your ear as one hand rested on your waist and your feet followed his lead.

“Know what?” you asked innocently, but he had caught your eyes drifting to the couch as you circled your way around the room.

“I won’t say anything, I just thought you might want to talk to someone. God knows you can’t talk to Flo about it, she would smother him while he slept,” Max joked. “And I kind of like having my best friend.” His eyes looked at the couple before he sighed. “Most of the time at least.”

You weren’t the only one vying for his attention anymore since he got a girlfriend. “You’ve been drinking too much, Fewtrell. You’re seeing things with your beer goggles on, I have no interest in Lando.”

“Is that why he hasn’t stopped staring at you?” Your head snapped around but Lando’s attention was firmly on Luisa and the very deep kiss they were openly sharing. “Totally not interested in him, huh,” he chuckled as he tightened his hold on you when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry, it sucks, wanting what you can’t have.”

“There are worse things,” you muttered under your breath but he heard and curled an eyebrow in question. “Wanting what you can’t have right in front of you.”

He had no response but a sad smile as the song changed and Michael Bublé’s Cold December Night crooned over the speakers. 

“The twinkling of the lights, The sound of carols fill the household, Old saint Nick has taken flight, With a heart on board so please be careful, Each year I ask for many different things, But now I know what my heart wants you to bring.”

“I fucking hate Bublé,” you sniffed as you pulled away from Max’s arms. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

“It’s bloody snowing out there,” he objected as he followed you to the backdoor. “You’re going to be sick for Christmas.”

The dinner bell rang out and you sighed as it shattered the bubble you had found yourself in and knew you would have to release Lando from your arms.

“Come to my room tonight,” you whispered against his lips before they shared one last kiss. ‘Your room’ was actually one of the guest rooms down the hall but you had spent so much time in it over the years that it was only ever referred to as yours now. It was so much yours that Cisca had even asked you for your opinion in the wallpaper when she renovated the house.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby,” he said with a smirk as he opened the backdoor for you. You reluctantly removed his jacket and missed the scent more than the warmth as you passed it back. Lando pulled it back on and dipped his head to steal one final kiss before stepping inside with a warning over his shoulder, “No dancing with Max this year.”

“It’s your turn to be jealous this year,” you said as you blew a kiss to him along the narrow corridor.

He paused and cast his arm out, planting his palm on the wall and blocking you from rejoining the party. “What makes you think I wasn’t jealous last year?”

“Maybe it was the tongue down Luisa’s throat, or the hand up her skirt?”

You tried to duck under his arm but he caught you around the waist and used his body to cage you against the wall. “I had to do something to distract myself,” he admitted lowly in your ear, hiding his face from your disbelieving eyes. “You were all I could think about, you and that sexy little dress.” You tilted your head back as you felt his lips on your neck as he continued his confession. “If I didn’t do something I would have gone crazy watching him hold you when I couldn’t.”

His kiss set your body on fire and you combed your fingers through his hair tugging the strands so you could capture his lips.

“What the fuck!”

Both of your heads snapped towards the outburst and your stomach dropped as you saw Flo standing at the end of the hall. Her arms were limp at her side, the blank look of shock bleeding into betrayal as her head started to shake before she turned away.

Your body reacted before your brain could, pushing Lando away as you chased after her despite his call to let her go. You couldn’t let that happen, she had always been a worrier and the longer she stewed on something the worse it got in her mind. You had to talk to her.

You raced up the stairs, apologising to Adam as you passed him in the hurry, the confusion of catching his daughter’s rush to escape clear on his face. Her door was shut and you tested the handle to find it was locked and your head thumped against the wood with defeat.

“Please, Flo, let me in,” you begged her. A quick no resounding from inside. Turning around, you took a seat on the floor and rested your back to the door. “I’m going to stay right here until you open the door.”

“You’re going to be there a very long time.”

You sat there in silence for a few minutes wondering where to begin, how to explain what happened, why, how long. Finally you decided on a simple apology. “I’m sorry, Flo. We didn’t intend to fall in love, didn’t intend on anything happening. I fought the feelings for years, because I knew what it meant to you.”

“Still didn’t stop you though, did it?” She spat, her voice closer than you expected. “I had one rule. One!”

Your make up was certainly ruined as tears spilled forth, eyeliner and mascara stealing down your cheeks. “I know.”

“They say they don’t have favourites but mum and dad have always put him first. They missed my events to go to his races,” she sobbed, a sense of déjà vu filling you as she retold the history you had consoled her through years ago. She had always felt second place to Lando. “I thought you would always be my best friend.”

Your gut wrenched as you realised what she was feeling. She thought you were choosing him over her - like there had to be an ultimatum. “I still am,” you promised, shaking the door handle again. “Please, unlock the door.” She made no move to turn the key.

“Do you remember when you got Summer and I thought you were going to forget all about me?” you asked, remembering the day the pony arrived at the house and Flo had been so excited she had run off to the stables without you. “You told me I was always going to be your best friend, from cradle to grave. She was your horse, and you could love us both, right?”

The door tugged open and you fell back, sprawled on the floor as she stood with her arms crossed. “Are you calling my brother a horse?”

“Depends, would it make you feel better?”

She rolled her eyes and offered a hand to pull you to your feet. “I don’t know yet, I’m too pissed off at you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, you guys okay?” Lando asked as he jogged to the top of the stairs, his tie and jacket missing.

You screwed your eyes shut at the timing and pinched the bridge off your nose as you asked, “Can we just have a few minutes?”

He turned twice first to head back down the stairs before he changed his mind and went to his room. “You said I had changed,” he muttered to Flo as he stood in his doorway and held the door knob. “You said I looked happier than ever.”

“I’m going to vomit if you tell me she’s the reason.”

“Sorry.”

“For what? Stealing my best friend?”

You stepped into her line of vision and waved a hand behind your back hoping Lando would get the hint. “He hasn’t stolen me, Flo. Cradle to grave.” You held up your pinky and held your breath as she stared at the age old promise you had made. “I should have told you how I felt about him, but you can be really scary and I was a coward. It was still a shitty thing to do.”

“Really shitty.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe it was you,” she said with a shake of her head. “I knew there had to be a girl. This is annoying, more than anything, because he’s not such a muppet anymore, but knowing it’s from you - I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“Surely being happy is what matters most, not the who or why.”

She fell silent and her eyes fell to the door that he had quietly shut. “What happens if he breaks your heart?”

You hoped it never came to that but you couldn’t see the future so you shrugged. “Then I will cry on my best friend’s shoulder like I always have.”

Her shoulders bounced once with a laugh before she caught herself and tried to appear nonchalant. “I suppose I would offer to key their car.”

“And I would say it isn’t worth it.” You reached for her hand and she let you hold it as you gave it a squeeze. “But…if he doesn’t then I might not just be your best friend, might be your sister in law too someday.”

“Too soon,” she said with a scrunch of her nose as she pulled her hand away and went to Lando’s door. “Hurt her and I’ll key your new car, noob.”

The door swung open and Lando leaned against the jamb. “You don’t have to worry, sis.”

“I love her more than you.”

Lando snorted, a sound so similar to Flo’s, and he shook his head. “It’s not a competition, you muppet.”

She appeared almost pleased, though also surprised as she nodded and stepped away, “good answer.”

“But,” Lando smirked and you sighed inwardly, “if it was I would win.”

Flo oddly didn’t respond as she started to make her way back to dinner, pausing only as she reached the stairs before looking back. “By the way, I’m dating Max.”

“What? No fucking way, I gonna kill him,” Lando growled as he took a step towards her before her head fell back with laughter.

“Of course I'm not, Lando, but now you know how it feels.”

Her laugh echoed down the hall as she descended the staircase and left the two of you alone. Facing Lando, you stared at him wondering if anything had changed but the moment of uncertainty was gone when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you without fear of being caught.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow, it’s all I’ve wanted to do for so long,” he laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours and recovered from the almost blessing you had received from Flo. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Tomorrow's Christmas,” you said with a smile.

“Shit, okay then, the next day. Hey!” He grinned as he pointed downstairs, his head bobbing along to the song that was playing again on the playlist. “Christmas came early for me,” he said as he dragged you to his bedroom and closed the door, silencing Bublé as he sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.

“We are going to miss dinner,” you warned as he sat on his bed and pulled you onto his lap.

“There’s always plenty of leftovers, plus, what I want isn’t on the menu downstairs,” he teased as his hands brushed beneath your dress.

“Bob, what are you up to-oh!” Max covered his eyes as he busted into the room. “Bro, everyone is waiting for you two. Time and place, people.”

You stood up and pulled the dress back into place, sending Lando a look that said ‘I told you so’ before tapping Max on the shoulder as you passed him. “You can look now.”

“I think the damage is already done, the image is seared on my retina,” he said with a dramatic shake. “So you two finally…”

“Got caught,” Lando said with a chuckle, slipping his hand in yours as the three of you headed to the dining room. “No more hiding.”

Max grinned and clapped Lando on the shoulder. “About time!”

“Wait, you knew?”

“Uh…I have been in the middle of this situation for like five years. Of course I knew. I think I knew before the two of you knew.”

You frowned at the news and came to a stop halfway to the landing. “So last year?”

“Was my trying to get you two to see what was clearly right in front of you the whole bloody time. You’re welcome for that, you know. And I expect to be thanked as the best friend and wingman one can ask for in our next stream. Now can we please go and eat, I’m starving!”

Lando looked at you with a different look of hunger in his eyes as he kissed your hand. “Me too.”

Taglist {1}: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3  @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @andydrysdalerogers @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover

[gutsby]

Dead Ringer

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and you couldn't care less. Daryl is happy to fulfill the fantasy in any way that he can.

Warnings: NSFW (2.2k words of pure smut) Unprotected p-in-v, praise kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, somno, and a healthy dose of dirty talk à la dom!Daryl.

If you held on any longer you’d be seeing stars.

Chest heaving, toes curling, fingers tangled tight in a fistful of hair, you were on the cusp of your release and still scarcely breathing more than the man with his face buried between your thighs. Every lap of his tongue a gentle invitation, every moan laced with the sound of your name. A smirk, too, probably plastered on his face in satisfaction as he sensed you were close. It was relentless, as cruel and unkind a tongue-fucking as you’d ever received before, and yet, somehow so good you couldn’t help but beg for more.

Then, like clockwork, you jolted awake before climax—every fucking time.

Daryl had been gone a little more than a month, and you were starting to see him in your dreams on a near-nightly basis.

You’d wake to a set of soaked sheets and ruffled covers, hair in disarray, and find yourself searching frantically for any trace of him there, to no avail. The space between your legs left empty, the imprints of his hands on your hips little more than a figment of your imagination. You’d trail a touch down your body and swear he’d been kissing your skin just minutes ago, but no. It was nothing. He was out and about among the dead and you were here, in Alexandria, with nothing to show for your loneliness but a half empty bed and a head full of filthy thoughts.

“Damn you, Dixon,” you muttered before falling back on the mattress.

You’d lie awake for an hour or more, just counting your breaths and hoping sleep would find you sooner than another Daryl-shaped dream. But more often than not, the thoughts would win, and you’d be left with few options other than to grab the nearest pillow and shove it between your thighs. It didn’t do much to quiet your mind, but it certainly tricked part of it into thinking something was there, and eventually you’d drift off to sleep. By the third or fourth night of this, you’d grown accustomed to the routine—hardly stirring from your slumber as you reached for your stand-in Daryl and hoped the fantasy to follow would be good.

Seconds would give way to minutes, then minutes to hours, and somewhere in between came the comfort of sleep. You couldn’t tell when, or how, Daryl ever joined you there. But he always did.

All you knew was a touch on your skin in the still of darkness. Hands, as broad and calloused as they were careful, traveling the length of your body with a warmth bleeding from every fingertip. Always patient, always cool, always keen to pique your senses while he soaked in the sight of you and smiled. The thought alone sent the muscles in your legs clamping hard on that cushion, aching for relief. This was just a dream, you reminded yourself.

Fantasy man pressed a kiss to your stomach, and your eyes all but rolled back, squeezed shut in a medley of ecstasy and disbelief.

Just. a. fucking. dream.

When his lips moved back up your body, you thought you might cry. One kiss after another peppered gently down your neck, punctuated by the brush of his stubble, and you came undone, begging him to please, please let you cum this time, please.

There was a patience and an urgency together bound tight in his fingers, a kind of quiet desperation guiding them under the sheets and all over your body—almost hesitant to pry but eager to please. He slipped your shorts down your legs and your panties even faster. Slotted himself comfortably between your legs and pressed what felt a whole hell of a lot like his erection against your core. You whimpered. Without thinking, you bucked your hips against his and moaned.

And, if you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle just above you. You disregarded it and continued to grind, shamelessly, for whatever modicum of relief you could get. With your eyes shuttered closed and your mouth hanging open, hips moving feverishly over the mound in Daryl’s jeans, you were sure you looked nothing short of pornographic in the moment. But you didn’t care, wouldn’t know, couldn’t even see the man in front of you, and you suspected this dream would be over long before you could, so you kept on moving.

Presently, your motions were stalled by a set of hands fumbling between your bodies, what appeared to be an attempt to unbuckle a belt and unzip a pair of jeans. Both items were discarded in a moment, so fast you hardly knew what to think, then—fuck—the thick, throbbing outline of his length pressed flush against your entrance.

You made one, final telepathic plea. Heels digging deep in his back and warmth threatening to spill down his member, you hoped, you begged, you pleaded for release—almost whined with a hunger you didn’t think was possible and pulled him in as close as you could before he’d breach the last precious inches between you. His lips caught yours, and you kissed him back as fervid and frantic as you felt. You were hot, you were sensitive, practically drenched in sweat, and—

“So fucking wet,” Daryl groaned in your ear.

You froze in your place. No sooner had the realization washed over you and your eyes snapped open that Daryl was pushing himself inside. A familiar face contorting in pleasure was the first thing to grace your vision and the only one to ground you to that bed, save for a mild sting between your legs. You glanced between his expression and the sight below, Daryl’s hips rolling softly into yours, and suddenly, it struck you that this wasn’t the work of your imagination at all. There was a living, breathing man above you with the slightest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. It was Daryl.

He continued without a hitch, only slowing his pace to brush the hair from your face.

“That’s my girl.” Even in the dark you could tell he was beaming, eyes drinking you in.

You bounced up and down with the force of each thrust and found yourself ogling Daryl half-dumbstruck, half-cockdrunk. Searching for the words in the thick of this haze but coming up short, you sucked in a breath and settled on one simple, subtle, ‘Fuck me.’

Daryl’s face broke into a grin then, still straining with his motions below but managing to lower himself closer to you. Then reaching behind your head to thread his fingers through your hair and make you meet him eye-to-eye, he stopped. Eased himself out.

“What’s’at?” Daryl hummed as though he hadn’t heard.

You whined at the sudden loss of contact, rutting your hips in desperation. Daryl retreated even further, tightening the hold in your hair.

“Tell Daddy what you want,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Then, when you whimpered, pulled you even closer, “C’mon now, use your big girl words.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck you how?”

“Fuck me hard...a-and deep. Please.” You sounded pathetic.

Soaking the sheets with your arousal and begging for more. Daryl couldn’t have been fucking you more than a couple minutes and you were already on the brink of orgasm. After a week’s worth of edging and wildly unsuccessful pillow humping, you couldn’t help it. You sank your fingernails into the flesh of his arms and gave him one more pleading look.

But Daryl wasn’t having it. Opted instead for a shit-eating grin and a hand around his cock, dragging his member up the length of your slit and watching you squirm.

“Daryl, please.”

“Daryl what?” he snapped, pressing the head of his dick firm against your clit.

“Make me cum. Make me yours,” you begged.

With his free hand, Daryl cupped your face and made you look at him. Daryl loved to make you look.

“Yeah?” he sneered, “Gonna let Daddy cum inside?”

“Yes.”

You felt Daryl’s tip circling your entrance now, pressing between the folds and teasing you there.

“Wanna make me a Daddy?”

“Yes.”

As it was, he probably could’ve asked whether you wanted to be fed to a horde of walkers and you’d answer in the affirmative. Daryl was no stranger to the skin flushing, mind-numbing sort of frenzy that enveloped you now, and he was savoring every minute of it.

“You’ve been doin’ so good without me here, dunno if I believe you.” Taking his damn sweet time before he fed you another inch. Rolling his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I need you, Daryl. I-I’ve missed you so fucking much,” you spluttered, close to tears.

Daryl sank his finger in your mouth, fully, and waited for your lips to close around him.

“How much?”

But just as you started to answer, Daryl drove his cock deep inside you, bottoming out in a single thrust. You could scarcely let a moan slip before he pulled back and slammed into you again, and again, and again. Hurrying now, as if to make up for lost time, he fucked you fast and senseless—planting a hand on either side of your head and taking you how he needed. What little you could hear above the buzz in your ears was the sound of his balls slapping your ass and the grunts that accompanied it, hot on your skin and only getting louder.

“Tell me how ya want it,” Daryl panted in your ear, “Tell me how much you missed this cock.”

You were vacillating somewhere between Cloud 9 and your fifteenth almost-orgasm of the week, gripping his member and every last one of his ruthless thrusts like a vice, but you still managed to answer him, weakly, that you missed it more than anything.

Daryl pounded even harder and started to raise one of your legs to get you at another angle. Would’ve paid any sum of money to hear the sound you made at that new sensation a million times over.

“Daryl, I—” Your voice broke off in a moan when he nudged your leg a little higher.

Much to your surprise Daryl slowed his motions then, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried like hell to hit that spot—and keep hitting it, again and again. Knees to your chest and eyes practically glazed over in pleasure, you were scarcely more aware of Daryl kissing you on the forehead than you were of him reaching between your legs and easing a finger between your folds.

You were eye to eye again, short and ragged breaths tearing through your lungs as you both sensed you were close. This time, Daryl’s expression had softened considerably, almost as though he were watching you for the first time all over again.

“You okay?” He nudged your nose with his.

You nodded, breathlessly, and couldn’t seem to conjure up a more coherent response.

Daryl just hummed in understanding and ran a touch over your cheek. Swept a couple stray strands of hair away like he did before, only much gentler this time. When his other hand reached your bundle of nerves and your body tensed with pleasure, he helped brace your legs against his chest and take him even deeper. He’d nod and say how good you were doing, how nice you felt, how perfectly you fit his cock and stretched around him. If you whimpered again, he’d let you lean into the feeling and keep his eyes locked on yours so that you knew he was right there with you. How he managed to hold your gaze, stroke your face, and keep apace with that impossibly languid cadence of his hips was beyond your comprehension. All you knew and all you felt was him.

When Daryl found your lips again, you were practically trembling under his touch.

“Tha’s my girl,” he murmured between kisses, “Tha’s my good girl.”

Your walls clenched at his words, and you both moaned. You didn’t have to exchange another syllable from there, just folding into Daryl’s arms and taking him closer in your own. Squeezing him to you. You moved a little faster as the knot in your stomach tightened, and he rutted his hips even harder.

Daryl panted your name while you moaned his, and each of you kept your eyes on the other like an instant apart might take you away altogether. Another few seconds of him groaning and grinding and pumping inside you and you felt yourself coming apart. Waves of a new sensation struck your core that you nearly cried with pleasure, contracted around Daryl’s cock and felt him spilling inside you just moments later. It all seemed like an eternity and a half and still not long enough to have him like this, shaking and sweating above you.

When you rode out your highs and slowly sank back to Earth, your gaze stayed glued on him. Daryl was drained, barely able to hold himself up and still somehow smiling at you. You couldn’t tell him then—probably wouldn’t tell him ever—but the longer you stared, the greater relief you felt, realizing, at last, that this wasn’t just a dream.

[spatialwave]

“𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 4k summary: after two weeks of traversing the wasteland with cooper on the search for a common enemy, you found yourself needing some… relief. it just so happened that you weren’t alone in the sentiment. warnings: mdni! smut, choking, praising, cooper likes complimenting you while he fucks you. 🖤 notes: continuation of this post!

travelling with cooper started as a forced necessity, one that you hadn’t been able to make an executive decision on, but the feeling of that rope around your neck had been long forgotten as you both careened through the wasteland together. cooper had proved his loyalty to you, a surprising feat that you had never imagined being possible. if there was even an ounce of kindness or empathy within that man, it was invisible to the naked eye. he did a damn good job at hiding any and all outward emotion, reeking of wit, sarcasm and cockiness.

yet, you had been gifted with seeing another side of the ghoul, a side which made you wonder what sort of feelings he harbored for you. it was a tricky thought and easy to get lost in it, especially as you wandered behind him and were given ample time to just… stare.

each night you were greeted with his hands in your hair, gloveless fingers pulling through the strands and sometimes tickling against your cheek until you fell asleep. his lap had become your pillow, and his jacket was your bed and blanket.

neither of you spoke about it, most mornings waking up as though your nightly intimacy had never happened. you were thankful for it because you had no idea how to even comprehend how you felt for cooper.

love was too soon. infatuation was too strong.

you respected him. you cared for him. you appreciated the way he protected you.

you yearned for his touch.

each day as the hot sun burned your skin, you watched him from behind and imagined things about him. it started off as daydreaming about his fingers in your hair, rubbing along your scalp and how you couldn’t wait for night to come. soon, though, these thoughts drifted when you were greeted with a deep, familiar coiling in your stomach that came when you had spent enough time away from self pleasure.

guilt gnawed away when you found yourself dreaming about him in ways that made you squeeze your thighs. what would his lips feel like against yours? what sounds would come from his lips as he fucked you senselessly?

you rarely got far with your thoughts before you had to ask for a sip of water and a short rest, avoiding his groans of disapproval for slowing you both down.

cooper felt the same way, but the guilt riddled him far more than you could ever imagine. he had lived far longer in this world than you, he became a changed man—was once a loving father and husband who was betrayed and transformed into nothing but a merciless, murderous bounty hunter.

he knew better than to think of you in any way other than just a partnered traveler of the wasteland. war may have changed him, but there were morals that belonged to the old cooper howard that would remain forever.

you were so much younger than he was, an innocent little thing that had come to the surface after spending your whole life in a vault, all because you were so intent on saving a life and finding the truth. you had so much kindness and curiosity in your heart, once comparable to him when he was nothing more than a star for the masses. nothing good would come from him taking that innocence away from you, especially after what you’d experienced only a week prior at the hands of the man who wanted you in exchange for caps.

at night, his mind was pure filth when he thought about you as his fingers ran along your scalp, eyes watching the way your chest moved up and down. how your lips parted when gentle snores would escape.

you woke up alone most times, unaware that the reasoning was because cooper had to excuse himself in the early morning hours—a bit of relief.

you weren’t so lucky because he never left you alone.

“cooper,” you whined, smacking your lips audibly so he heard you from a few paces behind, “can we rest? i need water, and maybe something to eat.”

boots stopped in the sand as you two ventured closer to the mojave, foliage becoming distant as the hot sun and dry air took over. after some investigating, the ghoul had found some intel on the whereabouts of another peculiar vault dweller, presumably your father, who had made way for new vegas. the travels had become difficult now as civilization was few and far between, and you still hadn’t been given any alone time that you desperately needed.

cooper glanced over his shoulder at you, quirking a hairless brow curiously, “and how do you think we’re going make it through the desert if we’re stoppin’ every mile, sweetheart?” the nickname rolled off his tongue easily, but he hadn’t meant it so sweetly.

“i like you better at night,” you huffed at him as you trudged forward, walking past him and taking the lead, “you’re much nicer then.”

you could hear the sigh as heavy steps came up behind you, leather rustling as cooper fell in stride beside you so casually, “seems we see eye to eye on that matter,” he drawled, “you demand less when the moon is high, vaultie. the sound of you snorin’ means i can stop listenin’ to your yappin’,” he clicked his tongue, solidifying his point.

“you’re the worst,” you seethed quietly between your teeth, keeping your eyes ahead and doing your best to ignore the way his voice warmed your cheeks and butterflies swirled in your stomach.

nightfall came fast, thankfully, and the two of you had just managed to stumble upon a rickety old home nestled in a hilly area of the desert. it was full of enough sand and dust to know that no one had set foot in it for a long time—safe enough for you to settle down for a rest. cooper allowed you to indulge in your stores of water and jerky, only enough to keep your stomach from eating itself alive.

however, water and food wouldn’t sate your libido. as a small fire warmed you as the harsh cold of the desert chilled you to the bone, you tucked your knees to your chest and closed your eyes to focus on your breathing. you had never felt more like an animal in your life, when you were in the vault you may not have had tens of suitors at your disposal, but you had plenty of alone time and two very usable hands. you were used to indulging when arousal struck.

you felt awful. your mind should’ve been fixated on your father’s whereabouts, yet you rested your chin on your knees and squeezed your eyes shut as you tried not to think about cooper fucking you. he was sitting right next to you, for crying out loud.

as if he knew you were thinking about him, the cowboy ghoul looked over at you with a quiet sigh escaping him as he shrugged off his long, leather coat, “here. you’re gonna’ freeze to death before mornin’,” he spoke lowly, shifting so he could drape it over your shoulders until it covered much of your body, “desert nights aren’t for amateur adventurers.”

a shaky breath quivered from your lips as warmth enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but lean your body against his side to chase more. in response, you felt cooper’s body tense for a brief moment before his arm slowly wrapped over your shoulders and hugged you tight against his side.

silence surrounded you, much like cooper, and you found yourself quickly drifting into a much-needed sleep. unfortunately for you, you were afflicted with the curse of sleep-talking, especially when you were particularly stressed.

cooper’s eyes were fixated on the fire, red and orange embers burning on the old wood as the smoke bellowed out the open windows. he’d been lost deep in his thoughts, wondering how he was letting himself get so soft for someone he hardly knew—then you started mumbling in your sleep. words mostly unintelligible.

“mmh,” you grunted, your eyes squeezing tight as you tilted your face toward cooper, nose brushing against the tight, weathered skin on his neck. it made his breath catch in his throat, “cooper.”

his eyes flickered down to you, tilting his chin just enough so he could see the way your eyes were moving behind their lids, dreaming vividly. he knew that he should wake you up, or at least give you a slight nudge so you would turn away or move down to rest over his lap, but curiosity won. he licked at his lips as you furrowed your brows, your breath hitching in your throat as you choked on what he could only imagine was a moan.

“please,” you slurred quietly, “cooper, don’t… stop.”

“vaul—“ cooper’s nickname for you was cut short when your hand had slithered past the confines of the coat and right over the bulge that tented in his pants, gentle fingers rubbing, “shit.” he hissed, fighting back a low grumble as he watched with half-lidded eyes.

there was no turning back now, not when he flickered his gaze to look over your face, only to be met with your own tired eyes, just barely open. shit.

“i really need this,” you murmured, inhibitions long gone as the night sank in, “please.”

“you need to think long and hard about this, darlin’,” cooper managed to keep his voice level as his gloved hand reached for yours and pushed it until it rested on his thigh.

“i’ve thought about it for a whole week,” you pleaded, fingernails scratching at the fabric of his pants.

there was the smirk you were hoping to see, cracking his lips apart as a laugh whistled out of him, “well, now, a whole week is quite some time to be keeping these feelings at bay without actin’ on ‘em. maybe you’ve got more willpower than i thought.”

you swallowed thickly, pulling away from him just enough so you could sit straighter, “don’t tease me,” you spoke, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout that made heat pool in the pit of his stomach, “i can very much tell you need this as much as i do.”

when his lips twitched you knew you had him right where you wanted him, there was no sense in him denying it. not when you could take one quick glance down to see the trouble you’ve caused for him.

“you think you know what i need?” cooper’s voice, as thick as molasses, made a shiver run down your spine. he lifted a hand after snagging the glove off, caressing your jaw as his calloused thumb brushed over your bottom lip. long gone were the thoughts that worried about morals, you had each other pinned and the outcome was inevitable.

“i do,” you said as you shifted in your spot, “you can touch me. i’m not going to break.”

that roused a laugh deep from cooper’s chest, a smile breaking across his lips, “oh, trust me, if you were gonna’ break you would’ve shattered when i first lassoed that rope around your precious neck,” he grinned, “you are somethin’ else—a real force to be reckoned with.”

you parted your lips to speak, but your breath was quickly taken when cooper’s pressed against yours and within seconds your entire body was on fire. arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, the leather jacket falling off of your body as you moved to your knees for better support. you fought for air as you kissed him with desperation, hands clinging tight to his collar as you slipped so easily onto his lap with your knees on either side of his hips.

his hands slid up the side of your body, caressing your curves as your tongues pressed together and moans muffled in each other’s mouths. with ease, one hand moved to your front so he could tug down at the zipper on your vault outfit, just like the one he’d worn many moons before.

you broke the kiss so you could lean back and take a breath, your chest heaving with each inhale as you helped him remove the jumpsuit until it slid off your shoulders and left you in the white tank top that hugged tight against your breasts. not once did you feel judged under his gaze, in fact, his appreciation for your boldness was palpable, especially as he wore that shit-eating smirk while his fingers slipped under the hem of your top. his skin was rough against yours that had been mostly untouched from the harsh sun rays, it made you tilt your head back and let out a soft sound.

“i wanna’ hear more of those delicious sounds,” cooper’s voice was heavy in your ear as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against your jaw, hands grabbing tight at your bare hips and fingers digging into the skin.

he wasn’t afraid to handle you rough, squeezing a whimper out between your plump lips as he forced your hips to roll against his. both of you relished in the friction, you could feel his hardened cock buried underneath his clothing as it pressed against your aching cunt. it clenched around nothing pathetically as you rubbed yourself against him with need.

“fuck,” you breathed out shakily as you kept your hips grinding forward in a steady motion, feeling like you could cum like this—but cooper wasn’t going to have any of that.

“language, darlin’” he teased, his teeth dragging across your skin as his lips kissed down your neck, nipping at your skin so he could hear your soft mewls of pleasure as your fingers began hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt, rather poorly.

once rid of the fabric, your hands explored over his body, the skin thick and rough like leather, far different than anything you’ve experienced or known to be true. as your eyes fixated on his body in the firelight and your fingernails scratched at the surface of his chest, you shuddered when he slipped your shirt off and revealed your tits for him to ravage at his leisure.

you had felt selfish for so long, telling yourself that being on the surface meant giving up parts of your old life. pleasure wouldn’t be easy to come by, if at all. there were important things to focus on, lives to save.

yet, here you were—laying on your back over cooper’s leather jack as his hands tugged off the remainder of your vault suit and tossed it behind him. he was settled on his knees before you, so close to you that you were forced to spread your legs on either side of him.

long fingers pressed against your panties, the fabric between your legs soaking wet as he teased you. you could hardly meet his eyes, keeping your own closed as you felt him tug the fabric aside so he could press a digit to your swollen clit. his thumb circled it slowly and you squirmed underneath him, but his other hand pressed against your stomach to keep you flat against the floor.

“keep still, my girl,” he murmured as he pushed a finger into your pussy, happy to find that a second slid in just as easily, “now look at you takin’ my fingers so well, you must’ve been needin’ this for a real long time. i suppose i can reward that patience of yours,” he praised you through tender movements, each thrust of his two fingers causing moans to spill from your lips as you squeezed your cunt around them, “good girl.”

being praised by cooper was a delightful surprise, warmth hitting your cheeks when you opened your eyes and saw him staring down at his fingers while he fucked you with them.

“oh, fuck—“ your breath caught in your throat when he curled his fingers, rubbing against the spot that always made you cum. you pulled your knees back so you could press your thighs together around his hand, growing overstimulated. that barely lasted for a second before cooper forced them back apart, the speed of his fingers picking up until he was fucking you relentlessly, your pussy dripping wet and coating his fingers. you hadn’t even taken his cock yet and your mouth was wide open and eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as pleasure coursed through your body.

you moaned out his name loudly, your throat growing hoarse as the knot in your stomach wound tight.

cooper let out a heavy sigh, his hand pressing over your lower stomach and his thumb flicking over your clit, “i need you to cum, darlin’.”

that’s all the encouragement you needed to hear before you came on his fingers, squirming and touching as his fingers fucked you through the orgasm—his other hand tugging at his belt buckle.

“oh, goodness,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering as your senses slowly returned to you and you could finally get in a deep breath—but that hadn’t lasted very long, “ah, fuck!”

you tilted your chin down and hadn’t even noticed that cooper had unbuttoned his pants just enough to let his cock spring out. you weren’t given a chance to see how big he was before he was pushing it inside of you. you could already tell he was bigger than anything you’ve taken before as it stretched out your pussy, pain shooting through you as you whimpered loudly.

“shh,” cooper pressed a finger to your lips, trying to quiet you down as he pushed his hips forward until his cock was deep inside. you wouldn’t stop with the mixture of moans and pained whimpers, so cooper shoved two fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them like a bitch in heat, “fuck.”

both of you needed time to adjust, you could see cooper’s chest moving as he breathed heavily and you could feel his cock twitching. his free hand settled on your hip as he leaned back on his heels, the fingers in your mouth retreating to instead fondle your perfect tits. he was positioned nicely, able to indulge in the sight as his cock slowly pulled out of your swollen cunt, large hand now pressed against your lower stomach to keep you still as he rocked his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.

the ghoul’s mind was far from what was right and wrong. he was hyper focused on how you looked in this moment, your pretty face completely fucked out and full of euphoria. your chin wet from his fingers and your thighs squeezing against his hips to ground yourself from the size of his cock as it filled you completely with each roll of his hips.

slow didn’t last long—cooper didn’t have the patience, nor the need to go slow. he knew you were a capable young thing, able to take his cock easily as he leaned forward enough so his hand could instead wrap around your throat. his hips snapped against yours mercilessly in one quick thrust, a violent rhythm following after that made you want to scream at the pleasure that made your entire body shake. you swore you’d never felt someone fuck you so deeply, a gurgled moan choked in your throat as he forcefully kept you quiet, pressing on your windpipe.

“keep takin’ it,” cooper groaned, sweating beading on his forehead as his cock slammed so deep inside you that tears welled up in your eyes from the ache, “you’re good at taking a cock, vaultie, i should’ve fucked you senseless sooner.”

you were unable to answer his vulgar words with your jaw slack.

he fucked you like this for a good while, your hands lifting up to press flat against his chest and stomach. he continued to litter you with praises and compliments, words you were certain you’d only hear under this circumstance—you hoped this wasn’t the only time you’d be fucked by him.

your body was growing weak with each passing second, but you were able to offer enough energy to sit up as cooper pulled you along with him as he sat and leaned back against the wall. you were straddling him once again, your knees raw against the sandy floorboards as his hands guided you to slowly bounce up and down.

your hands rested over his shoulders for support and soon you had enough strength to fuck yourself on his cock just like he wanted, giving him the opportunity to sit back and watch your show.

you were desirable in his eyes, your cheeks red as you squeezed at his shoulders tight, long lashes fluttering as moans fell past your lips that he kissed so much they were plump and swollen. you were surprised that you were able to keep up a good rhythm, feeling him stretch you out each time you pressed your hips down on his. you wanted to talk to him, to tell him how good he felt or how you wanted him to toss you on your hands and knees and fuck you without holding back, but all you could do was moan his name as your head hung back and eyes fixated on the dim ceiling.

“fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear as his thumb circled your clit, “i need you to cum on my cock now, darlin’,” he pleaded, breath hot and sending a shiver down your spine as you had slowly started to lose your strength, “be a good girl for me,” he cooed, and you were obedient.

much like when you exercised in the vault, you dug deep inside and gathered all your remaining strength, this time for the sake of pleasing yourself and the ghoul who had thrown his morals out the window for the sake of pleasure. cooper’s hand lifted so he could tilt your chin down, forcing your eyes to meet his as you bounced yourself steadily, “cooper,” you whined, “you… ah—fuck. don’t stop. please, please, please.”

your begging worked wonders. cooper’s thumb rubbed hard against your clit as he did his best to snap his hips upward each time you slammed down on his cock, meeting you halfway. his groans of pleasure were loud as both of you balanced on the edge of release, seconds away from letting that heat in your stomachs explode.

of course, you were the first to cry out so loud that cooper had to shut you up with his lips.

you came hard, your hips shaking and thighs twitching as you moaned his name as his tongue assaulted yours. you wanted to push him away and fall back onto the floor, to writhe on the ground in pleasure as your body could have a chance to relax…

but cooper wasn’t done yet. with both of his hands landing on your hips, he kept your sensitive cunt fucking his cock like you were just some toy. you were sensitive everywhere, your body hot to the touch and cunt abused by his cock, using a hand to cover your mouth as tears spilled down your cheeks each time he brushed against your cervix.

“shit,” he breathed, “you little killer.”

with a final, deep thrust of his hips, cooper came inside you with your name strangled in his throat. you could feel the bruising on your skin from his tight hands as you collapsed forward and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

your heavy breaths were the only sounds, aside from the crackling of the dying fire. both of your bodies were damp and sticky from sweat and cum—cold from the wind that blew through the open windows, so you curled up against his chest as his cock softened inside you. neither of you made a move, instead cooper reached for the leather jacket that had been under your body, putting it around your shoulders once more so the cool air was blocked for you both.

“we should… do that again.” you breathed on his skin, smiling when a weak laugh bubbled up from his throat, humoured by you.

finally, relief warmly greeted you both.

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 , hsr men !

side comments: i love old jazzy tunes or old songs in general. i usually don't do this kind of fic but i wanted to try something new.

extra: gn reader, fluff, all hsr men except yanqing & misha word count: 434

Other arms reach out to me Other eyes smile tenderly Still in peaceful dreams I see The road leads back to you. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 / Ray Charles

Despite age the two of you bustle about; committing your duties be it work or another passion. Perhaps either of you transverse the cosmos. However, when Twilight's wings gingerly take you under its folds, the two of you melt into one like candle wax dripping down its holder. No matter what path each of you treads- you are bound no matter the state. Thus, under the duvet covers and the unspoken lullabies of the night, he presses kisses on your wrinkled eyes like gemstones while slowly caressing your furrowed hand with a gentleness only matched by the lightness of a feather and the warmth of a beating heart. It is instinctive like blinking, like drawing air into the lungs. Rest now in silence for neither of you needed to say a word, another day will come and nights of blossoming devotion will echo into eternity.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 . Dan Heng . 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 . Gepard . 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍 . 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 . Blade . 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐓 . + any of your favourites

Just one look at you My heart grew tipsy in me You and you alone Bring out the Gypsy in me I love all the many charms about you Above all, I want my arms about you 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / Judy Garland

Your limbs might not take you far now, but he'll twirl you in the air like a star and tease you until your cheeks ache from laughter. The glimmer and shine of that first date still trails behind the two of you: stardust in the wind, wings that seldom break. You two still share that hidden kiss in public and search for treasures amongst a sea of rust. Giddy and unfettered, the two of you are like birds spinning in the air; chasing each other in fits of uncontrolled laughter. Blush still brushing against your sagging cheeks and the tipsyness of a night still young, his own heart enthralled as the first time he met you. The throng can stare if they want; asking why not sit down? Would you like some help? That's fine, he'll still banter and pursue adoration as if it's not already tucked in his arms. Because despite his gradually wilting eyes and worn-out knees, he'll still bow down and press his head against your stomach, whispering, "mine."

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 . Argenti . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 . 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀 . Gallager . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . + any of your favourites

At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song 𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 / Etta James

The two of you have mellowed over the years, lost some hair and found comfort in blue skies, the pit pat of rain and sand between your toes. Perhaps the two of you find a house in the countryside or build a home on a distant planet found in cup boards and the warmth of an oven. Perhaps you settle under the blanket of the universe; allowing your eyes to trace the sun inching down the walls of your shared home. The two of you spend your days lying languidly on the couch, days drifting into melodies spent well and arms entangled as one. He never would've thought that his heart could slow and his soul mellow like a distant breeze. His eyes drifted towards your figure, a pleasant smile reaching his lips.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 . Welt . Gepard . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . Dr. Ratio . 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 . Jing Yuan . Luocha . + any of your favourites

masterlist.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

.

.

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

.

.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

.

.

"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

[bel-by-the-sea]

✨

[peeweekey]

cliff talk | sebastian x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: sebastian brings you on a ride.

tags: emotional hurt/comfort, slight angst, dialogue heavy, sebastian and reader have a heart to heart

a/n: i never thought i'd be writing for the emo boy but here i am. hope you guys liked this as much as i liked writing this! :D

Like the green rain phenomenon or the cute little junimo creatures that live in the community center, there’s always something new to experience in the valley. As odd as it might be.

Hunched over, tending to your crops—is like living in wait, the calm before the storm, the thrum of anticipation as you await the next exciting thing.

Like today—now.

“Ah, there you are.”

The garden shears in your hands are dropped into the thick down crawl of growing fruit. You look up, squinting your eyes due to the warm beat of dying sunlight.

“Sebastian?” you pause, looking up at him from your spot amongst growing melon vines. Your overalls smeared with dirt and damp with sweat—this is the last state you’d want to be seen in.

“Hey farmer,” The keys dangling from his index finger jingle as he gives you a close-lipped smile. “Wanna go for a ride?”

—

The place Sebastian stops at is quiet.

But not in the way most people think—the valley is never quiet, birds chirping, the breeze singing through tall grass and the rustle of branches swaying slowly. You’re aware of the sounds in the recesses of your mind. 

The view is breath-taking.

The sun set long before you arrived on Sebastian’s cliff side spot. It’s cool and grassy, ticking your ankles as you walk through the field. The air, no longer warm but a cool breeze that you greedily inhale.

You stop right before the edge, there’s a big drop that you'd rather not slip and fall into. Zuzu city lay just under the horizon, a smatter of light in the otherwise now-dark forest. A cluster of flashing lights that remind you of stars—that have fallen and gathered from the night sky.

“Amazing, I know.” Sebastian says, a few steps behind you. He’s leaning against his bike, staring at the same view as you. “Zuzu city is miles from here, but there’s so much light—you can see it even from high up.”

You fold your arms, turning your back at the view—facing him. “Well, it is nicer from afar.”

Sebastian gives you a look, then nods his head to the grassy patch behind him. “Mhm. Let’s sit?”

You settle down together, side by side. You, him, and his motorbike beside him—there’s barely any space between your legs. You feel the warmth of proximity—so close. What you’d give to bridge that gap once and for all.

“Want a drink?” he asks, pulling out a beer bottle from his hoodie pocket—your brow raises, a miracle it didn’t break on the way. “Only got one though.”

You shrug, taking the bottle. It’s warm—warmed by his body heat. “S’okay with me. We’ll just have’ta share.”

He looks at you, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips as you use your teeth to pop the bottle cap off. “I guess we do.”

—

The beer is settling warmly low in your stomach, loosening every tightly wound muscle in your body. You feel weightless, the edges of your mind made fuzzy. 

“I’ve been savin’ up a lot,” he suddenly says, picking absentmindedly at the blades of grass underneath him. “Almost have enough too. Once I do, I’m skipping outta this town on my bike.”

You nod your head. “It is a pretty cool bike.”

“Mhm,” he drawls, patting the side of his motorcycle—almost lovingly. “It’s gonna take me all the way to Zuzu city.”

“Zuzu city,” you repeat slowly, feeling the sound of the words in your mouth. It’s unpleasant, Zuzu city is a place you’d rather leave behind. You look down at the view of it, squinting. “Why go there?”

He pauses, inhaling the cool night air deeply. His fingers itch—like they’re searching for the comforting hold of cigarettes he so enjoys. 

A part of you wishes you didn’t ask. Difficult conversations and cliff sides don’t mesh well together, you think. You don’t dare move a muscle as you wait for him, your eyes drifting back to the glittering light-filled view of Zuzu city.

“It’s suffocating here—everything about the valley,” he replies mirthlessly. “I live in the basement of my mom’s house for fuck’s sake. I know how she looks at me, like she could’ve done so much more to make me less of a shitbag. Maybe she could’ve, I don’t care. It’s way too late now.”

A low whistle escapes past your lips. You swirl the beer bottle loosely in your grip. “I see…”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you, scoffing. “You’re pretty shit at comforting words, y’know that?”

“Harsh,” you look at him quizzically, shoving the beer bottle into his hands. He accepts it immediately. “What do you want me to say, Seb?” 

“Nothing,” he smirks, downing a generous gulp of beer, the bottle is a little less than half full now. “‘m just teasing. Don’t gimme that look. I didn’t want comfort anyway, I’ve had enough of that. I want you to tell me the stone cold truth.”

“Promise not to get pissed off?”

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth, then smiles. “Depends on what you say.”

“Wow, guess I’ll have to lie.” you joke.

“Hey—”

“Kidding.” You laugh softly at his pinched expression. His eyes narrowed—lacking any real aggression—at you as you poke harmless fun. 

You grin, slowly turning back to the view. “You won’t find yourself there,” you say simply, taking a slow sip of beer, the smoothness of it running smoothly down your throat. “Believe me, I’d know.”

Sebastian turns to face you, irritation spelled out in every feature of his face. 

“Smartass…”

“Hey, you asked for the stone cold truth,” you lift your fingers into air quotations to emphasize your point.

“Tch. Tell me this then. If I can’t find myself there, or here in the valley. Where the hell do I go?” 

You pause, clicking the bottle with your nails idly. He’s irritated obviously. But you think more frustrated and confused than anything.

You sigh, then smile. The valley hasn’t been the kindest to its resident shut-in.

“Mid-life crisis at 24,” you tease gently, poking at his side. Sebastian shoots you a heatless glare. “Don’t worry too much Seb, your hair is gonna turn gray.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sourly. “You talk as if that isn’t the same reason you moved to the valley.”

“Hey, I gave a generous amount of my life to Joja,” you snort, shifting your feet into a better resting position. “I paid my dues over there before I found some semblance of peace here.”

“I can’t just sit around and wait my whole life.”

“Then don’t,” you reply simply. “God knows I wish I followed my dear old gramps’ footsteps sooner.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Yep. It isn’t. It does get easier though.”

“You say it so easily.”

“Sometimes, it just is.” you reply. “Only sometimes, though.”

For all you remember, your grandfather absolutely adored the valley, though he couldn’t convince you in the height of your angsty teenage phase to do the same. You’re long past that now, life didn’t go as planned and you ended up right where your grandfather said you would be.

Funny, how fate works so mysteriously, so weirdly.

You shake that thought away, turning to Sebastian—who has the same contemplative expression as you.

He’s silent, thinking. His fingers grasping and twirling the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You never told me the story.”

“Well,” you purse your lips, handing him the bottle. He drops the drawstrings to grab it.  A wordless agreement between the two of you to share what remains of the liquid. “You n’ver asked.”

“I wanna hear it,” he says, looking at you at the corner of his glittering obsidian eyes. “please?”

“How polite,” you laugh, he lightly hits you on the back of your head with his palm. “Ouch. No need to be rough w’me, I’ll tell you.”

You clear your throat with an obnoxious ahem. “Once upon a time…”

“—C’mon farmer, stop messing around. I wanna know your story,” he interjects, and it almost sounds like a plea. “No theatrics.”

Your lips flatten into a grim line. He’s being unusually insistent on the topic. But now that you think about it, you haven’t told anyone why you moved into the farm. Not your mother, not your father, and definitely not anyone else in Pelican Town.

Sebastian may be your first, you think to yourself—innuendo unintended.

You hug your arms closer to your chest, the cool draft sliding over your skin—making you shiver. No better way to battle the uncomfortable situation with an even more uncomfortable conversation. You take a deep breath.

“I was a fresh graduate when I started working at Joja—worked my way up from customer service to marketing. Crazy, right?” you chuckle, though it sounds hollow even to you. “All the pretentious proposals I would write and those useless meetings that’d take forever. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t hate my 20 year old self for starting at Joja. 5 years down the fucking drain when I quit. Let me tell you, it’s the best decision I made in my stupid corporate slave life.”

Sebastian says nothing, he hands the bottle back to you, which you take a generous swig of. You grip the bottle tightly around its neck, the warm feeling of alcohol loosening your tongue. 

You exhale deeply through your nose. “I was in my cubicle when I just ‘bout had enough—by the way, I hate that they’re called cubicles, I felt like a number in some executive’s spreadsheets instead of a living breathing person.” all that talking and your throat itches for more of the sweet burn of alcohol—you oblige it with another weighty gulp. “Grandpa left me this letter, told lil’ old me not to open it until I really, really needed to. Now that I think of it, he knew.”

Your voice cracks by the end of it. Your tongue feels way too thick for your mouth. And your eyes blur—there seems to be twice as many stars as usual.

Sebastian stays quiet, reflective even. Though his hands have stilled, and he feels closer than he was earlier. It’s warmer, you think.

If he asks, you’ve decided you’ll blame it on the alcohol.

—

You and Sebastian talk for hours after, the bottle of beer being passed between the both of you too often. You feel a tad tipsy—having drank the lion’s share of beer. Your head lolls onto your arms as you talk about everything then nothing. 

There’s a fair moment of silence that blankets the two of you after—certainly not uncomfortable. You feel Sebastain knows the fact more than anyone. He seems to thrive in the quiet moments.

“I don’t think I’m leaving the valley any time soon, though,” he says softly, breaking the tranquil silence. 

So he’s been thinking. “Why so?”

He shrugs his shoulders, taking the final sip of beer that finishes the bottle. “Something’s makin’ it worth staying a little longer.” His eyes meet yours, albeit for a second—before he refocuses on the cliff side view. 

Ah, you understand.

Suddenly, alcohol isn’t the only thing making you feel so warm. You thank the stars for the dark, for hiding any warm pinkness in your expression. You smile, more to yourself than anything. Taking the bottle from him, brushing your fingers over his perpetually cold ones.

The bottle is lighter than it was at the beginning of the night—your shoulders too, less achy, less stiff. With all that weight off of them, you can afford to be less wound up. 

You tip the bottle over the grass, nothing but a single drop comes out. You watch it fall and drop into the grass. “Good. This something thinks you’ll come to like it even.”

Sebastian tilts his head, a tentative smile playing on his lips. “That’s presumptive.”

You shrug, smirking. “I have a sense for this type of stuff.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm. I don’t just lie for no reason. And my senses are telling me you’ll be alright.”

You hear the silent hitch of his breath, the momental widening of his eyes and the tremble in his jaw. It saddens you slightly, no one has probably reassured him of it before.

God knows you needed some while working at Joja, you’re just returning your dues to the universe—and to him.

He laughs softly, and bitterly. His fingers twitch again—for that darn cigarette. “God, I sure hope so.”

Sebastian will be just fine, you know that. And it’s about time he knew it too.

[thedensworld]

Your Best Man | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, established relationship

Summary: Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.

Author note: let's have a break from angsty suffering story and have some fluffywonu!

Wonwoo loves you. He loves you with all of his heart. Honestly, he loves you with all of his life. In conclusion he loves you very much. Wonwoo sat there, an empty soju glass in hand, his words flowing like the river of affection he held for you. Mingyu, realizing his friend had reached the brink of tipsiness, halted the soju parade, albeit reluctantly, knowing Wonwoo was just getting started.

"Mingyu, remember when I fell head over heels for her at first sight?" Wonwoo's tone was earnest, albeit slightly slurred, as he delved into his favorite topic, you.

Mingyu nodded, taking a break from his spicy budae jiggae to indulge Wonwoo's sentimental journey.

"She was stunning," Wonwoo continued, his gaze drifting upwards as if searching for you among the stars. "I mean, she's always been gorgeous, but back then? Wow. Even Cupid would've been jealous of my aim that day."

He chuckled, the warmth of nostalgia enveloping him as he recalled the moment fate intervened, intertwining your destinies.

"In hindsight, it's like the universe had a checklist and decided, 'Yep, these two are meant to be.' And who am I to argue with the universe, right?"

Wonwoo's laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy you brought him, even in the haze of alcohol and spicy food.

So there they sat, one lost in love and the other in a spicy stew, united in their admiration for the wonder that was you. And as Wonwoo raised his glass in a tipsy salute to your magnificence, Mingyu couldn't help but toast silently to the cosmic comedy that brought you all together. Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional soju-fueled confession.

Years ago, Wonwoo became acquainted with you through a movie he watched with Vernon. You were a rising rookie actor at the time. Fate, however, had a more direct introduction in store for him. It happened one evening by the Han River, where Wonwoo sought solace in the night air and a bowl of ramyeon, alone with his thoughts.

The tranquility was shattered by the intrusive click of a camera shutter, followed by a beam of flashlight. Initially annoyed by the presence of paparazzi, Wonwoo's irritation quickly turned to anger as he contemplated the invasion of privacy suffered by countless others in the industry.

His resolve to confront the paparazzi was cut short by a sudden thud and a groan. Rushing to the source of the commotion, Wonwoo discovered the paparazzi lying on the ground while another figure stood nearby, inspecting the camera.

"I know this is your job, but this is not right," Other person admonished, voice firm with conviction. "You've invaded someone's privacy and caused them untold discomfort. Can you even sleep at night knowing what you do?"

As the other person, you, retrieved the memory card, your eyes met Wonwoo's. In that moment of shared understanding, Wonwoo offered a thumbs-up in appreciation of your intervention, sparking a conversation between the two of you.

You explained that you recognized the paparazzi, having caught them fabricating rumors within the industry. Wonwoo nodded in solidarity, acknowledging his own frustration with such unethical practices.

"I was about to take action myself," Wonwoo admitted, shaking his head. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

And so, amidst the backdrop of the Han River, a bond formed between two strangers united by their disdain for injustice and their shared desire to protect the integrity of others. It was a chance encounter that would leave a lasting impression on both Wonwoo and you, shaping the course of their future interactions.

A conversation led to another, as late-night discussions evolved into playful banter and eventually escalated into vulnerable talks. What began as strangers connecting gradually blossomed into friendship, and then something more profound – love. Wonwoo cherished every step of the journey with you, never once regretting the decision to let you into his life. With you by his side, life seemed brighter, the shadows dissipating whenever you were together, and he couldn't shake the feeling that you were the one sent by a higher power to fill the void within him.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Wonwoo's question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and hope. When you said yes, he made a silent vow to himself to be the best man you'd ever known. He listened to your concerns, ensured you never felt pressured, and held you in the highest regard, becoming your staunchest supporter whenever your movies or dramas premiered.

Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Like any couple, Wonwoo and you faced their fair share of ups and downs. But each challenge served as a lesson, strengthening their bond and shaping them into better individuals for each other. If Wonwoo were to recount their biggest argument, it would likely be the time he recommended you to a director he knew.

Wonwoo happened to know a veteran noir movie director, a figure you admired deeply for his work. During a discussion between Wonwoo and the director at a premiere event, your name came up, sparking a conversation that would ultimately change the course of events.

"Your girlfriend is Ji Y/n, right? Her acting was exceptional in the last movie," the director remarked, his interest piqued.

"She's a huge fan of yours," Wonwoo replied. "I know it might be unconventional, but I was hoping you could consider casting her in your next project. It would mean a lot to her."

To Wonwoo's surprise, the director revealed that he was indeed seeking an actress for his upcoming movie and would be delighted if you were interested in joining the cast.

Initially, the news seemed like a dream come true. However, Wonwoo's excitement turned to concern when he received a series of missed calls from you while he was away on a business trip. Upon calling you back, he was met with the sound of your sobbing, instantly stirring worry within him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I never asked for your help with my career," you replied, your tone heavy with frustration.

Wonwoo's brow furrowed as you mentioned the director's name, realizing he had unwittingly stepped into a sensitive issue.

"I never asked you to secure a role for me in his movie, so why does everyone think I got it through a connection?" you inquired him, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wonwoo sighed, acknowledging his mistake. "I was talking to him that night, and he mentioned you—"

"He talked behind my back saying you begged him to put me into the cast."

"I never asked for that!" you continued, your frustration evident.

"I know," Wonwoo conceded, regret weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He didn't say what you think he did."

Feeling hurt and misunderstood, you ended the call abruptly, leaving Wonwoo with a sinking feeling in his chest. Acting swiftly, he instructed his manager to drive him to your place, determined to resolve the misunderstanding before it escalated further.

Wonwoo entered your apartment well past midnight, his fatigue from a long day's schedule overshadowed by the weight of guilt gnawing at him. Upon seeing you seated on the couch, head bowed in distress, he felt a pang of remorse pierce through him.

"What did he say to you?" Wonwoo inquired gently, his voice laden with concern as he approached you.

"It doesn't matter what he said," you replied, your tone laced with frustration. "What matters is that you overstepped by asking him to cast me in his movie! I want to build my career on my own terms, and I want people to recognize that."

Wonwoo knelt in front of you, seeking to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his remorse evident. "I just thought—since you admire his work—it would be a good opportunity. I didn't anticipate this outcome."

A heavy silence hung between you before you confessed the truth. "I walked away from the role midway through filming. I couldn't bear to work with someone who talk trash their talent like that."

Wonwoo nodded understandingly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I understand," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts. "You did what felt right for you."

As you feared, rumors began to circulate in the weeks following the announcement of your departure from the movie. Speculations about your connections within the industry surfaced, casting a shadow over your hard-earned reputation. Yet through it all, Wonwoo stood by your side, offering unwavering support and reassurance.

He knew the truth, and that was enough for him. Together, you weathered the storm of gossip, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. For Wonwoo, there was no greater reward than seeing you stand firm in your convictions, unyielding in the face of adversity. And as long as you had each other, no amount of speculation could tarnish the bond you shared.

Years later, you and Wonwoo went public with your marriage, and he was grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback you both received. The wedding was an intimate affair, attended only by close family and colleagues. For Wonwoo, it marked the culmination of his journey to become the best man you'd ever known, now leveled up to become the best husband himself.

He found joy in the simple moments of life, relishing in the comfort of sleeping and waking up beside you each day. To the surprise of his fellow members, who often referred to him as the prince by his fans, Wonwoo had embraced domesticity wholeheartedly. Learning to cook, clean, give massages, and take on any task that arose became second nature to him, especially during your pregnancy with your firstborn, Jeon Jihan.

Now, at five years old, Jihan possessed a strong will of his own, often refusing to hold hands with Wonwoo when being taken to daycare. Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder whose attitude Jihan had inherited—though deep down, he knew it was undoubtedly from you. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen Wonwoo's love for you and his son. He cherished every moment spent with his family, grateful for the love and happiness they brought into his life.

One day, while Wonwoo was away on tour and Jihan was just two years old, he heard from his fellow members that the women—referred to as "their girls"—had gathered at Seungcheol's wife's place. Concerned for your well-being, Wonwoo immediately called you to check in.

"Are you joining them?" he asked, his worry palpable over the phone line.

"Will you bring Jihan?" he added, mindful of your responsibilities as a parent.

"Of course, he can't take care of himself," came your sarcastic reply.

Wonwoo chuckled at your dry humor. "But didn't you say our car broke down yesterday?"

"I'll find a solution, don't worry about it, darling!" you reassured him.

However, after the concert, Wonwoo discovered from Seungcheol himself that you had ridden his bike to their place—with Jihan in tow. Not a word of this had come from you. Frustration and disbelief churned in Wonwoo's chest as he made a call to you.

"How could you ride a bike with our child being that young?" he demanded, his tone edged with concern.

"Jihan loves it!" you countered, sending a photo taken by another woman at a traffic light, showing Jihan smiling while securely attached to your front.

Wonwoo facepalmed with his hand, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You could have endangered both of you and Jihan. You're not allowed to ride my bike again!"

It wasn't that Wonwoo doubted your skill—you had been riding bikes for years, a shared passion that had drawn you both together. However, the idea of riding a bike with your child had never crossed his mind, nor did he ever imagine you would consider it. The incident led to his members labeling him as a "gangster husband," a nickname stemming from your unconventional lifestyle and characters in the movies.

"So what's the matter now, hyung? You said you're okay, you love her, you'll support her no matter what. Then what's with the change of heart?" Mingyu confronted drunken Wonwoo.

Wonwoo clumsily put down his glass, "You're not married, Mingyu. You won't understand my pain!" he declared, slurring his words as Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement.

Without missing a beat, Mingyu dialed your number. "Hello, Y/n! Did you miss your husband already? He's being a pain in my ass tonight. Should I take him home?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened in panic as he realized what Mingyu was up to, but his drunken attempts to grab Mingyu's phone proved futile.

"Just the usual babbling about his undying love for you and some other nonsense. I'll be there in 20, okay? Bye!" Mingyu announced cheerfully before hanging up.

"No! I don't wanna go home! I don't wanna face her like this," Wonwoo protested dramatically, his words slurred as he tried to resist Mingyu's attempts to escort him home.

Mingyu sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This hyung..." he muttered, resigning himself to the task of dragging a stubborn and intoxicated Wonwoo back to the safety of your arms.

*

"Where's Jihan?" Wonwoo groaned, nursing his pounding head while seated at the dining table, his breakfast being served by you. The mere act of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task.

You shrugged casually, "Someone woke him up last night, and he ended up staying up late. He's still asleep."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed, knowing full well that the culprit was none other than himself. Yet, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction to Jihan's extended slumber. "He's not going to daycare today?"

You shook your head, taking a seat across from him. "I'm free today, except for my ballet class at 4. Your mom wants to see Jihan, so I'll be taking him to your parents' place before then."

The mention of your ballet class jogged Wonwoo's memory of his conversation with Mingyu the night before. "You're still taking ballet classes?"

You set down your utensils and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Yes," you confirmed firmly. "And Mingyu filled me in on your little chat last night."

Wonwoo grumbled, "I'll punch him later," before offering a weak smile in your direction.

"I've decided to take the role no matter what, darling. It'll be my first-ever romcom movie," you declared, determination shining in your eyes.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, his headache worsening at the thought. "That's the problem, babe. I'm just not ready for that!" he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of panic.

"What are you not ready for?" you queried, raising an eyebrow as Wonwoo stretched his hands and gestured vaguely.

"All the lovey-dovey stuff you'll have to do in the movie! Kissing, hugging, and acting all smiley with other men—I'm just not prepared for that!" Wonwoo exclaimed, his expression a mix of concern and discomfort.

You scoffed, "I thought we were done talking about this. I asked for your opinion, remember? If you don't want me to take the role, I won't. But you said your opinion doesn't matter as long as I'm happy, and I'm more than happy to challenge myself with this role."

Wonwoo nodded solemnly. "I know, but that was before I found out about the intimate scenes like kissing and hugging!"

You nodded understandingly. "You're right. And besides, you're the only man who can kiss and hug me like that."

Wonwoo sighed, relenting slightly. "Just kiss me three more times every day, and I'll pretend like nothing happened," he bargained, a hint of resignation in his voice. After all, he is your best man, right?

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Prompt #1. Hands

Heyo thanks for requesting and waiting!

Summary: Soft fluffy morning with Astarion

“Mmph don’t leave yet, my love.” Astarion mumbles, face still buried into your chest. You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp but he pulls you back in, holding you tightly.

“A little while longer,” you sigh. He lets out a little happy purr, shifting to a more comfortable position but doesn’t drift back into a trance. Instead, he takes in your warmth, loving how it warms him up along with the sun and finds himself mindlessly tracing patterns on your back on this quiet morning. Stealing little moments like this is what he cherishes most, and he wants more of these.

He loves watching your tired eyes flicker open, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you struggle to fully wake up, the way your fingers grab the air whilst trying to find him. He loves the way your body relaxes when he slips his hand into yours, the tired mumble of what usually sounds like ‘good morning’, and especially the way you drag your body towards him just so you can flop onto him, burying your face in his neck.

His fingers find themselves entangled in your hair, lingering on the back of your head just so he can pull you closer and press kisses to the top of your head, relishing in a future Cazador tried so hard to deny him.

“We need to get up now, Star. The others need us.”

“They can wait,” Astarion huffs, but lets you worm yourself free from his embrace. He still whines about the coldness of the sheets now that you’re gone until you leave the room, then you hear the pitter patter of feet as he rushes to get dressed just so he can continue clinging onto you before the others steal you from him once more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck for his breakfast and feels you rest your hand on his, running your thumb over his smooth undead skin as he feeds. He takes in how your hand never leaves his for too long, always searching for a form of physical contact with him, whether it be for his comfort or yours he’s not sure, but he likes it.

He always gets lost in your touch, the gentle caresses over his face as your fingers glide along his skin, the soft kisses that follow suit, the way your hands fit in his like they were made for each other. He clings onto each of these memories, afraid that one day they will fade away like his past before he became a vampire. He’s terrified that one day you will stop doing this, stop loving him so gently, stop lavishing upon him all the love and care you can muster, but each and every day you prove his doubts wrong.

“Star?” Your soft voice cuts through his haze of thoughts and you gently squeeze his hand, snapping him back to reality.

“Yes, my darling?” He presses a kiss to your neck, resisting the urge to nuzzle you again. The spot should be sore and he doesn’t want to irritate it further.

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows crease with worry, the soft look of concern sent his way. His heart skips a beat each time you look at him like that, no one ever looked at him in that way until you came along and every look you send his way is a reminder of what he never had.

Instinctive words bubble up to his throat — words that throw up a facade, words that form a protective wall around his heart, words that shield him from the worst — but he pushes it all down, swallowing them. He doesn’t need these words around you, you’ve proven that over and over again. What he needs is your open mind, your caring heart to reassure him that being vulnerable is alright.

“I’m…” He’s not sure how to phrase it. Is he alright? He’s not sure. After 200 years of not being alright, he’s not even sure of what being ‘alright’ is.

Your thumb gently runs over his skin, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“You don’t have to tell me now. Whenever you’re ready, just say the word and I promise I’ll listen,” you say with such softness it nearly brings him to tears. He nods, swallowing hard and closes his eyes, taking in the way you gently hold his hands, the way you let him wrap himself around you even though he could very easily kill you with a bite in this position, the way you entrust your back to him both in and out of battle.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Can we…stay like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” you murmur back, leaning back a little to press against him. His grip on you tightens, soft sweet words spilling from his lips into your ear and you know he means every single one of them.

You turn so that you can bury your face into his chest, intertwining your fingers with his and let out a sigh of contentment, smiling up at him.

“Love you.” The words spring forth before you know it. He blinks, caught off guard, body freezing in place as his mind struggles to process what you just said. It’s not the first time you’ve said that word to him, but every time you say it you surprise him.

You. Love him.

Even after everything the both of you have been through, there are times he cannot wrap his head around this fact. He blinks away the tears that are beginning to form and untangles his hand from yours just so he can cup your face, lift your chin and press his lips against yours.

He still can’t bring himself to say those words back to you. He knows how much weight they carry when each of them are meant wholeheartedly and he doesn’t feel ready to say them yet. He tightens his remaining grip on your hand, wanting to remain close to you for as long as possible and presses his forehead against yours until the shouts of your companions cause you to pull away.

“Looks like our time alone is over,” you murmur. “Let’s go.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before reluctantly letting you go, a hint of sadness in his crimson eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be yours.” You smile softly at him, giving him a quick peck to the cheek before checking on the others, but you keep your hand in his, grasping tightly.

His. Always.

[thelittleliars]

Not safe anymore?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: fighting, angst-hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff at the end?

Words: 1.1k

Summary: A fight with your girlfriend revealed certain things.

Your girlfriend and you had rarely any fights. As much as you hated confrontations as Natasha hated showing her true feelings in the most important situations, once you were in a fight you always blew up badly. You suddenly couldn't control your thoughts and lash out more than you ever intended. Today was unfortunately one of those rare days. You couldn't recall what this argument started or what it was about. It simply became too much of a screaming match. 

"God Y/N, if you don't fucking stop right now then you'll be sleeping on the damn couch." She screamed at you loudly and in a warning tone. But you didn't take her threat serious since you didn't see sleeping on the couch a punishment.

"Good, maybe then I'll be finally able to sleep again!" You screamed back at her. The words you threw at her stunned her too much to come up with words. She felt sick to the stomach at the information of you not being able to sleep next to her. You took her silence as the end of the fight and left her standing there alone. Your anger was still boiling hot inside of you that you took it out on a empty vase that stood in the living room. The smashing sound of the vase breaking into thousand of pieces alerted JARVIS. "Emergency alert. Please state what emergency this is."

"No emergency. Just an accident." You replied with short words, not being in the mood to explain the AI that you lost your temper and smashed a vase against the wall. "No help needed." You added to assure the AI to go back on standby. You grabbed your favorite blanket that laid on the couch all the time and made yourself comfortable. It was only early in the evening but you decided to take a nap since you weren't able to face your girlfriend yet anyways. 

Not long after you closed your eyes you heard Natasha call out your name softly. You stayed still, even when you heard her heavy sigh that was full of sadness. The sounds of her footsteps going away was the only noise in your home. Home, that home was a whole floor you shared with Natasha in the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision were on the floor beneath you, the rest had an assigned room on the floor above you. The footsteps came back and sound got louder, she was walking towards you. She placed something underneath your blanket, it was a stuffed Llama but not any stuffed Llama, it was your favorite. Natasha gifted it to you on Valentine's day two years ago. Neither of you were a huge fans of that day so you weren't mad that she went on a mission. When she came back she told you she had a little something for you. She saw it in the shop they arrested the criminal and the Llama reminded her of you so she bought it. 

You also felt her giving you a quick kiss on your head. This gesture simply warmed your heart with so much love for her. As you drifted off to sleep, the anger you felt prior was now long forgotten. The second you were awake your ears picked up the sound or rather noises of a tropical rainforest. That was Natasha's doing, she often listened to tropical rainforest ambience sounds to calm herself. You quickly got up and searched for her. She sat on her reading chair in your little library room, a book in her hand but she was starring at the wall instead of reading the words in the book. Her expression was blank and difficult to make out what she was feeling, she hid behind a mask they taught her in the red room. You carefully knocked on the door frame, not wanting to startle her. She turned her head towards you, her eyes ranked all over your face trying to read you as she so often did when you were lost in your thoughts. 

"Is the book any good? Didn't have the time to read it yet." You started a conversation. She shook her head then she sighed loudly. "I don't know. I couldn't comprehend the words I was reading." She stood up and put the book back in it destined spot. "I'm sorry." You nodded in acknowledgment. "I'm sorry too Nat." There was a long moment of silence, this wasn't anything like her. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head. "Not really. How did this even happen? Where did we go wrong?" Natasha finally turned back around to look at you. You finally saw her true expression. Pain, hurt, confusion and a bit of heartbreak. "I don't know but Tash, this was only a little fight. We had worse ones." She looked away from you and glanced at the book spines instead. You walked further in the room and stopped a few feet away from her. You rested a hand on the back of her nearest arm. "You can't fall asleep next to me... for how long?"

"I-I'm not sure. It has been going for a while though." You admitted. "Is me not being able to sleep the cause for how you are right now?" The fact that you didn't realize the deeper meaning behind this hurt her more than anything. "You really don't see how it's related?" The look in your eyes told her enough. "At the beginning of our relationship you told me that only trust and feeling safe lets you fall asleep."

"Oh my god." The color left your face. "What I yelled at you was out of line and so not true. Natasha my love, me not being able to fall asleep has absolutely nothing to do with you. I don't feel safe anywhere but with you. The same with trust." You searched for her eyes and begged her to believe you. She pulled you closer and hugged you. You put your arms around her too and held her tightly. Once you weren't hugging anymore she held both of your hands. "If it's not me then why can't you sleep anymore? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That one mission messed with my head a bit too much and it scared me. I'm honestly not sure myself why I hadn't told you about the mission nor that I can't sleep. I think part of me was too embarrassed and didn't want to bother you with it."

"Detka even you bothering me wouldn't actually bother me. How many time have I told you that in all of our years of being together?" "Probably way too many times." She smiled before planting a short kiss on your lips. "Let's head to bed yeah? We can cuddle and talk about the awful mission that messed with your head."

"And after that I need you telling me how much you're in love me because that's like a lullaby." She kissed you once again before agreeing.