#?????? I don;t know what else to tag it

[usertoxicyaoi]

"Jun Sung, please go to the phone booth and express your feelings to someone that you like in 30 seconds." HIS MAN 2 (2023). Jun Sung + Sung Ho in Episode 3.

[leelreallylikespersona]

Huge art is taking me a while to finish (it's more like a bunch of doodles for a concept but he's soooooooo detailed) But I have two options for colours

[bapydemonprincess]

Also I will happily become the father of Sebastian's hellish demon babies if conception happens.

RIP I'm built different 🤷

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[solarmorrigan]

In for a Devil of a Night

For the @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt: "Where in the hell did you find that costume??" Rated: T | Words: 930 | CW: implied sexual content | Tags: established relationship, slutty Halloween costumes: not just for women!, stockings, wouldn't go so far as to say lingerie but it's close, Steve Harrington is a tease, Eddie Munson is whipped Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Hey, babe?” Steve’s voice floats back towards Eddie from the bedroom. “Can you come help me with something?”

“Yeah,” Eddie calls back, though it takes him a moment to tear his attention away from the slasher flick playing on the TV.

Steve had wandered off about half an hour ago, just when it had started getting dark, saying he had to put on his costume. Eddie’s already wearing his—has been for most of the day, actually—a relatively simple ensemble of a billowy white shirt, a brown leather vest, and a pirate hat (there had also been an eyepatch, but he’d abandoned that early on).

Neither of them have plans for the night, no Halloween parties or other engagements, just the intent to watch a few scary movies and hand out candy, but Eddie had talked Steve around to dressing up anyway. The kids at the door always love it when Eddie is committed to acting out his costume, and he has every intention of pulling Steve into the bit.

It would help, of course, if Eddie knew what Steve’s costume is, but Steve’s been stubbornly secretive about it – says it’s a surprise.

And, to Steve’s credit, Eddie is very surprised when he gets to the bedroom.

His eyes are glued to Steve’s ass for a solid few seconds before he can take in any other part of the costume, but that really isn’t his fault; it nearly has a target on it, wrapped in tiny, shiny red shorts that draw Eddie’s attention immediately. A long, red, pointed tail hangs from the waistband of the shorts, and Eddie can only curse it for partially obstructing the otherwise perky, rounded view.

Then Steve turns around.

The shorts are, if possible, even more obscene from the front, doing almost nothing to obscure the bulge of Steve’s cock. The fun doesn’t end there, however. The costume (such as it is) doesn’t seem to have come with shoes, but Steve’s made up for that with a pair of silky-looking, red thigh-high stockings, the elastic tops squeezing into the meat of his thick thighs in much the same way Eddie would like to be doing right now.

There are little devil horns situated on top of Steve’s head, poking out from his artfully tousled hair, and there’s red glitter—glitter! Never let it be said that Steve Harrington half-asses his seduction attempts—spread around his sultry, heavy-lidded eyes and over the tops of his cheeks.

It should look cheap and ridiculous, but like just about everything else he puts on, Steve manages to make it sexy. Eddie has had to come to terms with his growing appreciation for preppy polos, and he supposes now he’ll just have to accept his attraction to lamé short shorts.

Unfortunately, since the overall effect of the ensemble has kicked Eddie’s brain offline, the first thing out of his mouth is neither suave nor appreciative.

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” he blurts.

Steve gives a rolling shrug. “Costume shop,” he says, twitching his hips to the side so that his tail swings out. He grabs it and twirls it in a lazy circle. “I know devils and demons are usually your thing, but I hoped you wouldn’t mind me borrowing the shtick for the night.”

“Uh, no– no, not… at all.” Eddie shakes his head quickly. “Are you, uh– planning to answer the door like that?”

“No,” Steve answers with a smirk. “I thought we could just put out a bowl of candy with a sign telling people to take one, and then we can stay in the bedroom all night.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Steve, that’s a terrible idea,” he says. “���Take one’? No kid in their right mind would take just one. The candy will be gone in fifteen minutes, and then we’ll have kids ringing the doorbell, and when we don’t answer, we’re gonna get egged or some shit.”

With his smirk melting into a frown, Steve drops his tail and crosses his arms over his bare chest, one hip popped out in a way that somehow manages to convey judgement.

“Are you seriously arguing with me right now?” he asks, at once bitchy and incredulous.

“Oh my god.” Eddie takes a moment to stare into the middle distance, letting his brain recalibrate. “What is wrong with me?”

He ducks out of the bedroom, already halfway to their tiny in-home office when Steve calls after him, “Where are you going?”

Eddie backtracks, popping his head back around the doorway. “I’m getting a piece of paper to make the sign.” He points a finger at Steve. “You stay right where you are. I need two minutes to set this up and then I’m gonna come back and ravish you.”

Steve smile is back, soft and amused. “Okay. Go ahead, I’ll wait right here.”

Eddie dashes through writing up the sign (does it matter if it’s legible? It’s just going to be ignored) and is on his way to the kitchen for a bowl when something occurs to him.

“Hey.” He ducks back into the bedroom doorway. “Didn’t you say you needed help with something? What was it?”

Biting his lip, Steve drags a hand down his ribs, over his stomach, and hooks a thumb in the waistband of his shorts. “I need help getting the costume off.”

Tearing himself away to finish setting up the candy is the hardest thing Eddie thinks he’s ever had to do, but with the prospect of Steve to come back to, he manages it (if only just).

[blondrafe]

I don 't know why people are in a frenzy now over what's speculated to be Drew and Odessa under that umbrella in Aaron's photo dump; if you all read the room, it was apparent they were more than platonic from the jump, especially if they were seen exiting the same hotel in Paris back in January . Many people wanna insinuate that O is a lesbian who has a girlfriend . I guess them thinking it's Quen Blackwell or maybe Billie Eilish, but Quen said 2 years ago that Odessa had a boyfriend on a podcast . She mentionedhow her and O would go on double dates ,and how she was in love. During those times , O was seen with Drew a lot . Ifshe was in a relationship with someone else , why would that believed - to - be partner let Odessa share clothes with Drew , fly internationally just to see him ,and have no other friends involved , and be okay with that ? Wouldn't Drew deny the British Vogue article or Daily Mail one mentioning how him and O were in a relationship ? His own cousin was commenting on a TikTok video , claiming he had a girlfriend . This was the same cousin that was with him in Charleston at the obx4 premiere . Some little girl who was at the Tribeca Film Festival during O's premiere of Fresh Kills that O even follows claimed that O referred to Drew as her boyfriend . O doesn't treat Drew just like one of the guys . Although she may emasculate him and embarrass him ,they're emotionally attached to eachother and at the hip . It worked for them this long to never confirm them being together , otherwise they get more hate ,even worse than the backlash they received from Aaron's photo dump.Because Drew fans would crash out worse than Rudison fans when it comes to Rudy and Elaine . There were already fans threatening to unstan because of the umbrella photo . Drew deleted all traces of O off his page and turned off tags at a point because there were hate pages doxxing his family , sending him death threats , and going too far . Thosepeople make it unbearable for him to feel confident going through fully coming out and admitting what O is to him . He is hypersensitive and doesn 't know how to stand up for himself . O is pathetic to be okay with not having a title , and being allover him, or vice versa . It 's been going on for 4 years now . He 's living in Odessa's old apartment with Jesse . Shedrives his car . They share a Pomeranian dog , and all her friends have become his, and his have become hers . Drew isn't coming off Odessa no matter how bad she plays in his face , embarrassing him ,showing up to his . Premiere looking like a hobo and thenhaving to sneak into restaurants through the back door , or not be visible in public. Zero PDA . They are a shit show . Sheis still pursuing other women like Billie and Manon , and flirty with Quen . He isstill on Raya and following sex workers .These people are flawed and have faults the public may not see . People are so disillusioned with this fantasy . He 's Prince Charming when he's going out like a cuckold.

yall just read this because honestly it left me speachless. applaud this anon because they said it ALL. anon ily you explain lowk everything perfectly

[skiiyoomin]

hihihi!! i hope you’re requests are open!! i saw that you did a “bakugo with an emo girlfriend” head cannons i was wondering if you could do iida and/or Kiri !! i would LOVE to see your head cannons for them w an emo partner :3

ღKirishima with an emo gf

ʚCont: fluff, crack, not proofread ⤑Back to navigation

Kirishima is without a doubt the least judgemental person you could ever meet. He´s a sweetheart to everyone, no matter the style. He has no reason to judge you as long as you vibrate good vibes.

If anything, he´s curious to learn more about cultures and styles he may not know much about. So, when you first appeared in class, his interest was instantly piqued. You stand out from the rest in such a unique way, and Kirishima loves that.

Being the social butterfly that he is, he didn´t waste a single second to sit down next to you and chat your ears off.

"Hey! You have a really cool style. What´s your name?"

The warm smile on his lips is hard to ignore. How could you turn down such a sweet-looking boy when he´s looking at you like you placed the stars in the sky?

From then on it was a smooth slope. Kirishima truly isn´t a hard person to get along with. His desire to always learn about your style and the things you like always warms your heart. Though I´m sure back in his early teens, he hadn´t strayed too far from an emo phase.

He had a slight alternative phase and although it´s not the same, there were things he was slightly familiar with, to your pleasant surprise. This turned out to be just one more reason to bring you close.

You had grown so used to each other's presence that you didn´t realize just how often you spent time together. You sit next to each other in class, to everyone else's dismay because Kirshima does not shut up when he´s around you. Your afternoons consist of training or studying with him or relaxing in each other's dorm room. It´s a common view to see one and the other tagging along. So much so that when one of you was missing, people would ask why you´re not together.

But this is all so natural in the intimacy of your friendship with him. People may not understand why you´re together so much, but why should their opinions stop you? Only when someone confused you for a couple did you begin to think differently. You´d be lying if you hadn´t thought about him in that way before. And he did too, but you would never admit that to each other.

It wasn´t until you were badly injured after an encounter with the LOV that Kirishima realized he had to stop being a coward. He had grown so used to the comfortable routine you had created. His doubts kept him from taking things a step further. Because it´s better to have a little less than nothing at all. Seeing your injured state was a slap in the face for him. He needs to be honest about how he feels.

The door creaks open. You can barely turn your head, but you don´t miss the familiar redhead. His presence is like a soothing balm, a comforting sensation that erases the loneliness of the hospital room.

"Hey" His voice is soft. How it always is when he´s with you.

"Hi" With a few large steps, he´s on the bedside, wrapping a warm hand over your own.

"How´re you feeling?" He asks though he knows the answer. "Like I got hit by a train" The silence that hangs in the air after he chuckles is strange. Usually, it´s comforting and relaxed. Now it´s tense, like one of you is waiting for the other to say something. To take that next step. Kirishima is the first one to break the silence. He´s there for a reason, he might as well get it done with.

"Listen Y/n, I want to tell you something" Your mouth opens, but before you can get a word out, he´s cutting you off.

"I like you. A lot. And I´m sure you know that because I´m obvious about how I feel and I should have told you long ago but I got so freaked out and seeing you get injured so badly made me so scared and-"

Your warm hand cupping his cheek cuts off the anxious ramble he was on, forcing him to stop and breathe. He looks at you in surprise, unsure of what to do.

"I like you too you idiot"

He couldn´t possibly be happier than that. Not when he has his girl. His girl. God he could get used to saying that.

[dreamwatch]

Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Prompt: Band on the run | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, the press being scumbags, angst, Eddie Munson needs a hug, and Steve is going to give it to him, they're in love your honour | AO3

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out. 

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s. 

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night. 

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.” 

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again. 

“Always and forever,” he whispers back. 

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately;  Steve is his life. 

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!

[towriteloveontheirarms]

My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

[codnriddlewhore]

A/N: guys idk how to make thos links someone teach me plsssss and i hope u like this, i decided to post 2 shorter parts instead of 1 long one, felt nicer. next part is gonna be set some years later and itll be maaaybe a tad bit happier. dont hesitate to say anything, good or bad, mwah

wc: 965

She left earlier, of course.

The day after, to be precise. It was a slow and quiet morning. She felt at peace and torn apart at the same time. Can you feel that way? Maybe like someone that felt content with the way they lived their life, though now being stuck in a tornado.

Tom´s wife was sitting on the breakfast table with one leg propped up on the chair, wearing one of his jumpers and a teacup in her hand, smiling to herself and only having kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted tea. It angered him. Of course it did, she was always and every day the biggest chatterbox in the morning, excited about the day. He sometimes joked that it annoyed him. He hoped she realized the joke. He lived off her feeding him her presence. And who smiles like that, does he have a stain on his tie? Did she pack him heart shaped-sandwiches? I mean what else could´ve-

“Why aren´t you getting dressed? We`ve got to leave in-“

He checks his watch.

“exactly 13 minutes. I love you, but I know you wouldn´t make it.

She looks up from her tea, smiling again. He could sense it wasn´t the adorable type, it made his stomach turn. Something was wrong.

Well of course something was wrong Riddle, you´re ignoring the fact that you weren´t able to breath after the argument last night and that, you incontrollable child threw up all over the fucking bathroom you-

“Oh Minerva took the 2nd years to Hogsmeade for the morning, got 3 free periods.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. You never lie to me, you´ve never lied to me- What did I do, please, I´m begging you to go back day before yesterday with me I can´t fucking stand this

Of course he knew what he did, though did it deserve such a reaction? From both of them?

She stands up, gets very close to him and musters a real smile, one that made her eyes really small and showed her gums. It took all of her willpower left to do so. For him, It made his before mentioned train of thought stop.

Okay, of course it´s still her. It´s his wife.

She straightens his wobbly tie, there was no need to do so on other mornings. Another look in his eyes, knowing she´s the probably the only person that will see the truth in them. The fear. The other wobbly thing in the room were his legs when she kissed him, deeply, not hungry, but lovingly and meaningfully.

“Be nice. They´ll love you”

“Pfft, absolutely, don´t they always?”, he didn´t want to make a joke in such a moment but I guess he felt human, wanting to lift the atmosphere.

In the years after, they´d both remember this moment countless of times, she grinning like a child that remembered their last cool birthday party and he as in the objectively worst choice of words he ever made.

It was time, she felt it in the air. She'd die otherwise. Her to-do-list was now fairly simple, though the circumstances added some points.

pack Cry Put music on to distract Sob Pack Unpack Sob Look forward to life Pack Leave her faveorite blanket. He secretly thinks it´s fluffy. He gets cold easily. cry Cry happy tears because how fortunate is she to have spent 3 years with such a magnificent person. Pack Write note Cry but just a tad Breathe. Make tea. Put a lid on his cup so it stays hot. Breathe Smile Leave

Tom came home early. Who fucking cares about the pre-OWLs, he knows there´s the quidditch finale tonight and no one will concentrate. 1st day after Christmas break, whose idea was that.

Was she still in the school? He didn´t see her, though he didn´t particularly go look for her, he knows when to back off. She sometimes “regenerated” in her own space.

He got comfortable in his house and went into the ki- Did he forget his tea this morning? Seems unusual.

a note.

No.

In a pace an Olympic fast-walker would be jealous of, he makes his way to the library and sits down in the old, brown leather chair. His eyeballs hurt from his palms pressing into them, a strategy from the orphanage when he was first mocked for crying, it prevented the tears wonderfully. Tom sat like that for a few minutes, his left leg bouncing up and down and increasing in speed.

No.

Abruptly Tom stands up and walks over to the bookshelf with her little detective novels and big encyclopedias on algae and what not. His shaking hand pulls one out, the title doesn´t matter. He stares at it. He smells it. It doesn´t smell like her, at all. Why would it? It´s just a book. Was she real?

From his mouth comes not a growl, not a scream, what is it? He simply knows he hasn´t made that noise in a very long time and it almost accurately described his emotions. Almost. Nothing ever really will, he believes, though he´ll find a word for word description of his thoughts many years later. The book is now in about 14 pieces, torn apart, unreadable. Something wet runs over his hot cheeks. The knee-part of his grey slacks is ruined by the wet grass. He thought he´d suffocate inside.

Dearest Tommy,

I think I said everything I meant last night, though my devotion to you is hard to word.

You are the most precious, wonderful thing that has happened to me.

I want you to accept yourself.

To see yourself as I do.

You´re too much of a gift to existence and love in general to reduce yourself to a cause.

I love you, my Darling.

There were a few more words in between, but the tear stains made them unreadable. He´d get to reading it at some point. Maybe.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - January reads part #1- fanfics recs 🤓🩷

Follow along for short summaries each month about the books i read🩷

I only read finished stories and rarely one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but sadly some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapter Fanfics

1] Sky Clear Blue (E) by @klikandtuna

Human Au. It is the year 1804 and Azekiel is running a bookshop, but this folly is about to end, as he is obliged to marry the daughter of a pastor. Meanwhile in the year 2024 Crowley lives in a flat above a deserted shop. He can still read "A.Z. Fell, purveyor of the books" and is fascinated by it. And so sometimes he sneaks down in the empty place, until one day he finds a small handmade angel under the floorboards. And isnt it just a coincidence that Crowley likes to fiddle with a machine for timetravelling? 😉

It doesn't say in the tags but it feels a bit like a Dr. Who Crossover in the first chapters. This is a longfic of 749 pages that will decorate your mind. Brace yourself for some big emotions and quite a stretch of at least umcomfortable feelings and questions. Be brave, you will be rewarded. 🩷 Do make sure you read to the end!

One of the many most touching sentences: " He lives in the lilac wood of his own imagination, and he lives there all alone." 🦄

And incredibly there is also a song to one of the chapters, its a lullaby Azekiel sings for Crowley.

2] The two that got away (T) by @caedmonfaith

Aziraphale is alone at the pub, when a tall lanky ginger walks in - also alone. They start talking and decide to meet again there. But then the world goes crazy and lockdown starts. Years later, Crowley still thinks of the "angel", neither knowing his name, phone number or any further details. When Nina tries to set him up for a blind date, he stubbornly refuses. Good thing, that Nina and Maggie don´t let him get away with it. 😉

A sweet little christmas-story you can read every time of the year. I just love @caedmonfaith, you can seriously read everything from them and will always be in safe hands! 🩷

3] What are you doing on New Years Eve (T) by @thebookshoparoundthecorner

It is 1806, when Crowley and Aziraphale happen to be meet by chance on New Years Eve. The fic takes us through the years and tells about other New Years, including the ones after the end of S2. 🍀

4] Against all expectations (E) by @sixbynine

A/B/O & regency aera: Aziraphale/she/her is an Omega to be presented for marriage, but she has the least interest in finding a husband. So she sneaks away from the ball, but while trying to climb off the balcony, a strange Gentleman and Alpha even helps her to gather her dress and braid her hair.

A tale of unconventional thoughts and gender questioning, that had me googling for victorian paperweights and you"ll never guess why. 🤭

5] The trouble with beeing a demon (E) by @verdantvulpus

This fic is basically the answer to the question: if there are 2 Crowleys and 2 Aziraphales - how many different possibilities are there for them to enjoy themselves in bed (and also other places)? 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Felt Plot : Smut - Ratio = 1 : 9

Lovely quote: " There isn't a me that doesn't love Aziraphale."

6] The Grindr Logo Doesn´t Even have a 'G' in it (E) by @indieninja92

Set after S1, Aziraphale and Crowley are free to explore their friendship - or is it more? In the meantime Aziraphale is stumbling upon a fascinating but anonymous creature on Grindr for having online fun. 🌶️🌶️

I read this fic a while ago and while i was sick now, i listened to it in a great audiobook-adaption from @podfixx! Superhot no matter if you listen or read it, the shower-scene will live in my head rent-free forever.

Oneshots

7] Trust me (T) by @beet-feet

Set after S2, Crowley cant handle his broken heart and seeks a final solution... 😔

Mind the tags, but as always - a hopefull ending.

8] Keepsake (E) by @naromoreau

AU, Crowley is a fairy that likes to tease Aziraphale, who is a centaur. Well, that can't go without punishment any longer ... 🌶🌶🌶

Art by @golswia !

9] Christmas Traditions and all that (T) by @captainblou

Crowley wakes on christmas morning - alone. But only, because Aziraphale has a surprise for him. 🎅😉

Lovely quote: "If Aziraphale wasn't the first thing he'd see, and touch, and smell in the morning, then it wasn't worth waking up at all."

10] Animal Instinct (G) by @captainblou

Crowley returns to the bookshop after a day in hell and desperately needs to unwind. Though this time must have been especially awful, because when the angel returns with tea, Crowley is - gone?

Yes, i have subscribed to this author and so this is why you sometimes get more than 1 rec for her 😁

11] A little help from a fiend (E) by @mimsynims

Human AU - although not really. Aziraphale sumons a demon because he is in need of ... assistance. I can´t tell you more without spoiling it. You´ll never guess what kind of "payment" the demon is willing to accept. 😉 Had me downloading the follow-up multichapter-fic!

12] Submitted for your consideration (E) by @zehwulf

Crowley hires a professional dom - but when he opens the door and takes the other man in, he doubts this will ever work. Well - it will. Better than expected. 😁🌶️

Go ahead - spoil yourself, love yourself - and don´t forget your love for the authors, too! 🤗

[mrsportgas]

The Neightbor CHAPTER 3.

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SHANKS POV

Everything was calm. I was at the bar, sharing laughs with my friends and a group of girls who had decided to join the conversation. One of them kept touching my arm and flirting shamelessly, but being the gentleman I am, I just keep talking to her to be nice, but my mind was elsewhere.

I watched Y/N as she walked towards the bar and I noticed something different in her face, like she was dealing with a dilemma.

She was walking quickly, with an expression of determination that intrigued me. I couldn’t help but let my eyes follow her, from her gaze to her body. Every move she made had me captivated, but I didn’t let it show on my face. I didn’t want to draw too much attention.

Before I could process what was going on, Y/N was in front of me. In a move I didn’t see coming, her hands slid up my neck, getting closer to me so quickly and decisively that I barely had time to react. I felt her lips press against mine with overwhelming passion, without a second thought.

For an instant, I froze. The initial surprise quickly faded, and my instincts took over. My hands found her waist, pulling her towards me, while my other hand went to her hair, gripping it firmly. I responded to her kiss with the same intensity, our tongues meeting in a battle of desire. Around me, I heard the cheers and laughter of my friends, but all that faded into the background. We were immersed in our own world, though I sensed there was something deeper behind this kiss.

Y/N pulled away from me, her face flushed with embarrassment. My eyes quickly met hers, but then I noticed something that disturbed me: her wrist, reddened. I lowered my gaze to it, and my expression hardened.

"Did he hurt you?" I asked, with clear concern in my voice.

She didn’t answer immediately, just lowered her gaze to her wrist. My jaw tightened. What had happened to bring her to this point?

"What happened, Y/N?" I pressed, trying to keep the irritation that was starting to bubble up inside me under control. She remained silent, but I didn’t need more to understand that someone had done something to her. The atmosphere around us started to shift. The confusion on her face told me something was wrong.

I gently took her hand and guided her to a quieter corner of the bar, where the laughter and noise of the party began to fade. I didn’t want her to feel any more pressure than necessary.

"Are you alright, pretty? Do you want me to take you home?" I asked, trying to ease the tension in the air. But she shook her head, clearly trying to compose herself.

"Who’s that guy?" I asked again, more calmly this time, moving a little closer while my hand softly caressed her back.

"He's my ex… He won't leave me alone," she admitted, closing her eyes. The exhaustion in her voice made it clear this wasn’t something new for her. But what she said next surprised me.

"I'm sorry about before… I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your permission."

I couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Was she apologizing for kissing me? It wasn’t necessary, but what concerned me most at that moment was the situation with that guy. My eyes scanned the room, and sure enough, there he was, watching the scene with an arrogant smile. Ah, so that’s why Y/N had done it, to get rid of him.

"I can´t handle the situation anymore, I don´t know what else to do".

I stepped closer to her, gently pushing her body with mine, my lips finding hers again. This time the kiss was more intense, full of intention. I wanted to make something clear, not just to Y/N, but to her ex. This wasn’t just a game. As we lost ourselves in that kiss once again, I was aware of her vulnerability, but also of the gaze that was watching us from a distance.

Then, with a soft whisper in her ear, I asked, "Do you trust me?" My breath mingled with the warmth of her skin as I lightly bit her earlobe. I felt her nod, surrendering completely to the moment.

I couldn’t help but smile, enjoying the control I had over the situation. Slowly, I lifted the hem of her dress a bit, sliding my hand underneath to firmly grip her ass. My fingers sank into her skin as I returned to her mouth, devouring her with a restrained desire. I knew Kid was watching, and I wanted him to know one thing: he didn’t stand a chance here.

I kissed Y/N with more intensity, feeling her body surrender to mine. My hand remained firmly on her ass, gripping her as if to mark my territory, sending a clear message to anyone watching. Her soft sighs between our kisses only fueled the fire that was burning inside me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the boy standing there, his face twisted in fury. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white as his body trembled with frustration. The sight of Y/N in my arms, especially with my hand gripping her so intimately, was pushing him to his limit. His arrogant smirk from earlier had completely vanished, replaced by a storm of rage and humiliation.

But I didn’t stop. I wanted him to feel every second of this. I wanted him to understand that Y/N was no longer his to claim or torment. Each kiss, each touch, each pull of her body closer to mine was a deliberate act of defiance.

I could feel Y/N’s heartbeat racing against my chest, the mix of adrenaline and desire palpable between us. Her breath came out in soft gasps as I broke the kiss, moving my lips down to her neck, tasting her skin. I heard her whisper my name, barely audible, as I kissed her gently, my hand still holding her tightly.

In the background, the atmosphere began to shift. Kid’s fury was hard to ignore now. He took a few steps forward, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with anger as he shouted over the noise of the party, "Get your damn hands off her!"

The tension in the air thickened, and I felt Y/N stiffen slightly in my arms. I pulled back just enough to lock eyes with Kid, who now stood glaring at me, looking ready to burst.

"What's the problem?" I asked calmly, my voice deliberately cool and collected. I didn’t move an inch, my hand still resting on Y/N, making it clear that I wasn’t intimidated.

"She's not yours!" he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You don’t get to touch her like that!"

I smirked, tilting my head slightly, enjoying the look of frustration that crossed his face. "Looks like she doesn’t belong to you either," I replied, my tone sharp, watching the fire in his eyes grow. "Maybe you should learn to take a hint."

The words hit him hard, and I could see the veins in his neck pulsing as his rage built up. But I wasn’t about to let this escalate into a fight, not yet. I leaned closer to Y/N, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before whispering in her ear, "Stay close to me."

She nodded, her fingers tightening their grip on my shirt, as though she trusted me to handle the situation. And I would.

Kid’s temper was getting the better of him, and it was obvious he was on the edge of losing control. His eyes darted between Y/N and me, and for a second, I thought he might actually come at me. But I didn’t flinch. I knew exactly how to handle men like him, hot-headed and desperate for control.

"You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into" Kid growled, taking another step forward, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. "She’s mine. Always has been. You’re just some passing fling."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "No. She’s not yours. And judging by the way she kissed me, I don’t think she ever wants to be again."

The crowd around us had quieted down now, sensing the tension. My friends stood ready in case things escalated further, but I wasn’t too worried. I knew the boy would think twice before throwing the first punch in front of so many witnesses. Still, I wasn’t going to let my guard down.

"You talk a big game, but let’s face it… You’re nothing to her now," I said, keeping my eyes locked on his, the smirk never leaving my lips. "So why don’t you be smart for once, and walk away before this gets worse for you?"

Kid’s face turned crimson, his breathing heavy and erratic. He clenched his fists tighter, but after a long, tense moment, he finally seemed to realize that this was a fight he couldn’t win. Not like this.

"You’ll regret this," he hissed, glaring at me one last time before storming off, pushing through the crowd angrily.

I let out a small breath of relief as he disappeared from sight. The tension in the room began to ease, and the noise of the party slowly resumed. I looked down at Y/N, who was still holding onto me tightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety.

"You okay?" I asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She nodded, still catching her breath, but there was a quiet strength in her expression now.

I smiled and pulled her close again, my hand resting on her back. "He won’t bother you anymore, I promise"

YOUR POV

When we parted, I felt as though the world around us had changed somehow, as if all the chaos surrounding us had faded away. The curious stares, the murmurs of people, even the distant echo of Kid’s fury… none of it mattered anymore. It was just Shanks and me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, barely aware that I had spoken. “For… everything.” I didn’t know how to express what I was feeling. Shanks hadn’t just defended me; he had made me feel valued in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Shanks replied, his voice deep and filled with a calmness that wrapped around me. “Besides, now we’re even. A kiss for a kiss.”

I looked around, noticing how the party was slowly returning to its normal flow. Laughter and music once again filled the air, and although I could still feel the occasional glance thrown our way, I no longer cared. We walked back toward the group, and Shanks drifted off to chat with his friends while mine approached me.

"Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay? I don’t even know what just happened," Nami said, breathless.

“I’m fine, girls. I’d rather forget about it… and about Kid.”

"Yeah, let’s just go home," Nami continued.

“Actually, girls… I think I’ll stay here… with them,” Robin said casually.

“With them… or with someone specific, Robin?” Nami teased, laughing.

“Alright, just give us a call if you need anything. You’re not staying, Nami?”

“I will, but only if you don’t leave by yourself,” Nami said, winking at me.

I glanced over at Shanks. He gave me a sense of calm I couldn’t deny. I watched him from afar, talking to his friends, his relaxed and confident demeanor making it seem as though what had just happened didn’t affect him at all.

But I still felt the fire burning inside me. Not just because of what had happened with Kid, but because of what Shanks had awakened in me. From the moment his hands had brushed against my body, his mouth claiming mine, everything had changed. Something inside me had ignited, and I knew that this night wouldn’t simply end with a casual chat and goodbye.

Shanks turned back toward me, a sly smile forming on his lips as if he already knew what I was thinking. He stopped right in front of me, his gaze locked intensely on mine.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his tone casual, but the spark in his eyes told me there was nothing casual about his suggestion.

I nodded, my heart racing. I wanted to be with him, to feel the connection we had shared in every kiss, every touch.

We got into Shanks' car, a comfortable silence filling the space. He slid into the driver’s seat, and I settled into the passenger seat, still feeling the warmth of his proximity on my skin.

The engine purred softly as we pulled away from the noisy party. My gaze drifted to the city lights slowly passing by the window, my thoughts swirling in my mind. I couldn’t believe what had happened; from the kiss at the party to now, it all felt surreal.

I felt a slight brush against my leg, and when I looked down, I saw Shanks’ hand resting casually on my thigh. His touch was gentle, almost as if he didn’t want to impose anything, but at the same time, it made me feel safe, as if everything would be alright as long as he was near.

“Are you okay?” Shanks asked, his deep, soothing voice breaking the silence.

I nodded again, my heart still racing. “Yeah… I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything that happened tonight.”

Shanks glanced at me from the corner of his eye, though he kept his focus on the road. I could see the concern on his face. “You don’t need to worry about Kid anymore,” he said, his tone firm yet reassuring.

His words, though simple, filled me with relief. I knew that if anyone could make Kid back off, it was Shanks. But I didn’t want this night to revolve around that idiot.

“Thank you,” I murmured, and with a small smile, I added, “Although, to be honest, I don’t think you were just protecting me. It seemed like you enjoyed teaching him a lesson too.”

Shanks let out a soft chuckle, the sound filling the car with an unexpected warmth. “Maybe a little,” he admitted with a mischievous smile. “But mostly, I wanted to make something clear: you deserve way more than someone like him.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I looked at him, my gaze lingering on his profile under the flickering city lights. There was something about Shanks, a blend of confidence, strength, and a tenderness I hadn’t expected to find in someone like him. I wanted to say something, to express what I was feeling, but the words seemed to get stuck in my throat.

Before I could respond, Shanks reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small white card. He handed it to me without taking his eyes off the road.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking the card between my fingers.

“My work card,” he replied with a playful smile. “I don’t usually give my personal number to just anyone…” he said, laughing lightly.

I looked at the card, surprised by the gesture. It had his name, “Shanks D.,” and the details of what seemed to be a research company. My pulse quickened as I realized that he was not only trusting me with his personal number but also his work contact. It felt like a deeper connection beyond what had happened tonight.

“Thank you,” I whispered, carefully placing the card into my bag.

His gaze met mine briefly, and something in his expression made me feel a warmth I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was as if, beneath that carefree facade, there was someone who truly wanted to take care of me.

When we arrived at his house, he parked the car and turned toward me, his hand still resting on my leg. “Do you want to stay? Or if you want to go home, I’ll understand.”

My heart melted a little at that. He was thoughtful, even though the situation was clearly leading us toward something more. But in that moment, I knew I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to keep being close to him, and I didn’t want to sleep alone in my cold house.

“Thank you,” I said once more, my voice a bit stronger. “But I’d rather not be alone tonight.”

A soft smile curved his lips as he turned off the car. “Then let’s go inside.”

His fingers briefly intertwined with mine as he guided me toward his house. When we were inside, we climbed the stairs. I stayed silent for a moment, watching him as he walked toward what I assumed was the guest room, returning moments later without his jacket. I could still feel the heat of his hand on my leg, the way his touch had both comforted and excited me at the same time.

"You can sleep in my bed, you'll be more comfortable," Shanks said softly. "I’ll head to the guest room."

As he prepared the bed, I stood in the doorway, watching him for a few moments. He seemed so focused, so considerate. But deep down, something inside me urged me not to let this night end with us in separate rooms.

When he finished arranging the sheets, Shanks turned to me with a gentle smile. “It’s all set. You can sleep here. If you need anything, I’ll be in the room at the end of the hall.”

He stood near the door, giving me a brief smile. It was almost like he was trying to wrap up the night. I could feel the hesitation in the air, as if there was something unspoken lingering between us. My heart raced, and I couldn't let him leave just like that.

"Shanks…" I said softly, taking a deep breath. "Stay with me tonight."

His hand paused on the doorknob, and I saw the conflict in his eyes as he turned to face me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His gaze softened as it met mine, and I could see the desire flicker across his face, but there was something else there too—something holding him back.

"You know, Y/N," he began, his voice low and rough, "there’s a lot to consider here." He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "There’s an age difference between us. I’m an older than you, and… I don’t want you to regret this later."

I stepped closer to him, feeling the tension between us building. "I won’t regret it," I whispered, my voice steady. "I don’t care about the age difference."

Shanks let out a heavy breath, clearly torn. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "Y/N," he muttered, his voice slightly strained, "this is not something I take lightly. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I don’t want you to feel like this is something you have to do."

I shook my head, moving even closer until I was right in front of him. "This is what I want," I said firmly, my eyes locking with his. "I want you."

Shanks looked down at me, his expression softening, but there was still that flicker of doubt in his eyes. I could see him wrestling with himself, torn between what he thought was right and what he actually desired. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch warm and tender.

"You don’t know how much I want this too," he murmured, his voice deep and hushed.

I could see that he was trying to protect me, to be the responsible one. But I wasn’t going to let him push me away. I reached for his hand, holding it between mine. "Then don’t overthink it," I whispered. "Fuck me"

For a long moment, Shanks didn’t move. His hand remained in mine, his gaze searching my face as if he was looking for reassurance, for permission. And then, slowly, he let out a breath, and I saw the final traces of his resistance fade. His hand tightened around mine.

"Alright," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "As you wish sweetheart"

As Shanks’ hand tightened around mine, the air between us shifted, charged with an undeniable energy. He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing mine with a tenderness that almost made me shiver. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every touch. His hand moved to cradle the back of my neck, pulling me closer as our lips moved in sync, the soft pressure of his mouth sending waves of heat through my body.

I could feel his hesitation slowly melting away, replaced by an unspoken desire. His other hand slid down to my waist, tracing the curve of my hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently teasing mine. I responded in kind, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers.

His lips left mine for a moment, trailing down to my jawline and then to my neck, his breath warm against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was setting me on fire. My hands found their way to his shirt, and I began to unbutton it slowly, my fingers trembling slightly as I worked my way down. Shanks watched me, his eyes dark and focused, as if he was waiting for my every move.

When his shirt finally slid off his broad shoulders, I let my hands roam over his bare chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath my fingertips. His perfectly sculpted muscles lay beneath my hands. There was no denying that he had dedicated himself to working on that body to perfection; every muscle was perfectly defined.

I stayed admiring his body for a while. "Like what you see?" he said, raising his voice now with a cocky smile. "Now, you ask me to fuck you. Are you sure?" He said whispering in my ear

I nod and he continued " Great. Then you gonna be a good girl and do everything i say?"

I nod for a second time.

Shanks' eyes darkened with desire as he moved closer, his hands sliding up my body with a mix of passion and control. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and I felt the heat between us intensify.

Without saying a word, his fingers found the hem of my dress, gripping it firmly before pulling it over my head in one swift motion. His gaze roamed over my exposed skin, and I could see the raw hunger in his eyes as he took in every inch of me.

With a fiery determination, he reached for my bra, his movements becoming more urgent, more intense. His hands were rough but deliberate, and the way he undressed me sent waves of anticipation through me. Piece by piece, he stripped away my clothes, his fingers brushing my skin with a fierce tenderness that made my heart race.

His breathing grew heavier, and I could feel the weight of his desire in every movement. He was holding back, trying to stay in control, but I could see the fire burning behind his eyes. He wanted this just as much as I did, and I could sense the passion simmering beneath his restraint.

His eyes roamed over my body, now lying naked except for my panties, as he licked his lips. "You're stunning."

With both hands gripping my waist, he swiftly and powerfully turned me around. His left hand found its place on my neck, guiding my body toward the wall, pressing my face and chest against it.

His right hand settled on my hip, pulling me backward slightly, before slowly sliding down to my ass, delivering a quick, firm smack.

I moaned in response.

After that, his hand traveled back to my thigh, urging me to spread my legs while his fingers traced the fabric of my underwear. When they reached the center, he began moving a single finger in perfect circles over my clit.

I moaned again, needing more. "Shanks… please."

He slid his hand beneath my panties, one finger venturing lower, searching for my entrance, while the others massaged my burning clit in precise movements. When he reached my entrance, he gently slid his finger inside, searching for my G-spot. A moan escaped my lips, and Shanks let out a satisfied huff with a small smirk.

"I'm going to make you come until you can't take it anymore, and then you'll be a good girl and take all of me," he whispered, his sensual tone driving me wild.

He started moving his fingers with perfectly calculated motions. I had never felt anything like it; no one had ever been able to do this. His other hand slid up to my breasts, massaging them and teasing my nipples while he added a second finger. The room was filled with my moans and cries of pleasure.

Shanks grabbed my neck, leaning close to my ear. "You're so wet… If you're good, later I’ll let you ride me."

And that was my undoing. The ball of pleasure that had been building deep inside me exploded throughout my entire body, sending me soaring, my legs trembling, and a deep moan escaping my lips.

He grabbed me firmly, guiding me toward the bed, his strong hands turning me around again. "Lie down," he commanded in a dominant tone, his eyes filled with lust and fierceness, directing me toward the bed. He grabbed a pillow, positioning it beneath my back.

I lay down on the bed as he instructed, still trying to catch my breath, while Shanks tugged my panties down, slipping them off one leg and tossing them to the floor.

Then, he positioned himself between my legs, kissing my thighs before making his way back to my most intimate parts.

NEXT CHAPTER

[purinfelix]

by midnight ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⊹₊ ⋆

pairing: carlos sainz x reader summary: you find yourself at one of the hottest parties on campus, eager to land a kiss before New Year strikes to avoid bad luck warnings: none w/c: 2.3k

a/n: i can't believe this is my first proper carlos fic even tho he's my fav driver - also is this a uni au ?? college au ?? sort of idk ... anw hope you all enjoy this and i wish you all a happy new year !! <333

As you stood in the corner of the dimly lit room, with no company other than the half-empty glass of red wine you’d been cradling for the past hour, you were beginning to question what you were doing at this New Year’s Eve party in the first place.

Of course, your mind was quick to point to the obvious reason - you had come because your friend asked you to. Because she had burst into your dorm room about a week ago with a sparkle in her eye and an invite to a party hosted by what she referred to as ‘high profile university elites’, which you understood as ‘popular kids who were yet to realise they’d already peaked in high school’. Nonetheless, her eagerness and incessant begging had somehow convinced you to trail along with her to the party and the numerous shopping trips preceding it.

You had to admit, there was a tiny part of you that was excited about it. You enjoyed going out and the occasional dance session but after an extremely stressful university semester you weren’t sure you could handle any more chaos or drama. But it was something different, something interesting - something to look forward to in the break routine your life had become. Especially since your friend seemed very insistent on the possibility of you meeting some new “hot singles”, and whilst the dig at your uneventful love life didn’t go unnoticed you let it slip considering it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Maybe it was this possibility that had urged you to tag along with her, despite not knowing any of the hosts or people she had listed out. However, if it weren’t for her constant reassurance that she would be at your side the entire night, you probably wouldn’t be standing at the front door of whatever unlucky house had been chosen to host the event, so dressed up you felt a little silly. Your hands trembled slightly at your sides and you felt stupid at how nervous you were. But, as the door opened for you by a boy who looked like he had already had too much to drink from his crooked tie, you swallowed your nerves and reminded yourself that even if you knew no on else, you had your friend to lean on.

At least, until a mere hour had passed into the party and she was nowhere to be found. She had told you she was going to go introduce herself to some other people and that she’d be back to meet you in the corner where she had left you. And the last you saw of her she had been standing a little too close to a guy you vaguely recognised from one of your marketing lectures, and hand ultimately decided best to leave her to enjoy herself - even if that meant awkwardly taking up space, biding your time, and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Your friend had discussed at length, and much to your dismay, about how this wasn’t just any old New Year’s Eve party like one thrown at a frat house. Rather this was one organised by your university’s wealthiest, most popular, most talented students - which had been one of your biggest turn-offs from it initially. And as you leant against the corner of some vintage-looking wallpaper, you couldn’t help but observe the atmosphere that reeked of elitism, snobbery and daughter laughter. People around you chattered away without cares in the world, donning clothes that surely came from stores you weren’t wealthy enough to know of. Others danced in the centre of the dimly lit room, some moving with elegance and others waved their arms around, drunk on a mixture of whatever expensive bottles their peers had brought.

But, to your surprise, there was something - or rather someone - that managed to catch your eyes from the other side of the room. It was what seemed like the only other person not involved in some sort of conversation, dance circle, or the lips of whatever partner they had brought. And it seemed he had noticed you too by the way his deep brown eyes had locked onto yours, even in the shadowy lighting from where he sat on the cough. He was handsome, there was certainly no denying it, especially not when the eye contact and the slight quirk of his lips alone were enough to make your heart rate quicken. You took a shaky sip from your glass, watching as he ran a large hand through his dark hair that was styled in a way you could only describe as ‘princely’, the gold cufflinks on his shirt sleeve flashing as he did.

He’s way out of your league and your tax bracket, you remind yourself. But there’s something about the way this handsome stranger is looking at you that makes you feel compelled to him. Almost like he’s cast an invisible string around your waist and is slowly pulling you towards him. A grandfather clock in the corner tells you there’s less than half an hour until midnight and the strike of New Year’s, and until you can get out of here without missing too much. Half an hour to work up the courage to go up to him, talk to him, to do anything other than stand her paralysed under his intense, yet insanely attractive, gaze.

Your feet unstick themselves and go to take a step in his direction, until your friend appears suddenly around the corner, her hand already on your wrist. She’s talking to you about some people you “just have to meet”, half dragging you with her to the kitchen. But your eyes are still stuck on him, and he watches you go with an expression that’s equal parts amused and disappointed that your charged staring competition didn’t last longer.

You find yourself in a circle with three other people, forcing a smile on your face and trying your best to act as if you care while your friend introduces you to them. One’s an engineering major, the other in medicine, and the last you can’t even bother to remember, your brain busied with plans on how to get back to the lounge, and the handsome stranger. You nod incessantly as your new company drones on about final exams and papers, eager to have the conversation done with you.

“Well, seems like there’s not much time left until midnight,” one of them says, which catches your attention, and your friend laughs along.

“And you know what they say about a New Year’s kiss, hm?” she chimes in, “that failing to lock lips with anyone after the countdown will bring in a whole new year of loneliness!” She nudges your arm and you swallow the urge to make some excuse, settling on rolling your eyes with a resigned smile.

“You found the lucky guy yet?” the engineering major says, looking directly at you with a suggestive sort of look.

As if summoned by the question, you spot something out of the corner of your eye. A familiar tuft of dark hair snakes its way around the kitchen hallway - it’s him. Now that the two of you are standing you truly get a sense of how tall he is, and you can definitely see that the dark suit he’s wearing is doing his figure justice. He moves quickly, purposefully, as he pours himself another drink and is already making his way out of the kitchen. Though, not before looking back and shooting you a quick smile. The sight renders you incapable of speech and basic function, as you go to take a sip of your own drink and instead spill your glass’ remains onto your dress.

Your little circle erupts into groans and worried cries, your friend trying her best to laugh off the total fool you’ve made of yourself in front of them. Luckily though, it seems the handsome stranger didn’t stay long enough to witness your little accident, so you don’t mind too much as your friend ushers you off to one of the bathrooms, pushing past bodies that move along to the pulsing music. Your head throbs as your friend shoves you in and shuts the door behind her.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs, grabbing handfuls of toilet paper and throwing them at you as you sit on the closed toilet seat, “that was so embarrassing, and you’ve completely ruined the dress we spent ages picking at.”

You clearly couldn’t care less as you dab at the large stain on your dress with indifference, as she paces back and forth and waves her hands around to express her frustration.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, they all seemed like assholes anyways,” you mutter. Your quip seems to calm her down as she takes a seat on the bathtub rim. She takes a moment to glance at her phone in her hand before letting out a tired sigh.

“And now there’s less than three minutes until midnight and neither of us is getting a New Year’s kiss.”

“There’s nothing keeping you in here with me, you know,” you say, a smile in your voice as you watch her expression turn hopeful.

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to spend New Year’s Eve alone but I don’t want you to as well, I think I’ll manage.”

She lets out a squeal, pulling you in for a quick hug whilst being careful not to get any of the red wine you’ve spilled on your dress onto hers.

“I’ll meet you outside in half an hour,” is the last thing she says to you before turning and leaving the bathroom to rejoin the crowd that’s formed to count down the seconds until midnight. It’s almost funny that you’re alone once more, only now with a gigantic red stain and under the harsh white light of this lavishly decorated bathroom. Sitting back against the toilet, you close your eyes and try your best to enjoy this moment of peace, and ignore the fact that this may just signal another year of loneliness - as your friend mentioned. You can hear the partygoers outside getting ready, pulling out tiny confetti canons and ushering others into the lounge.

“10!”

“9!”

Suddenly, the door opens and you jerk up to scold your unwelcome intruder. That is until you notice it’s him, the handsome stranger. He looks equally surprised to see you until you realise he probably wasn’t expecting anyone to be sitting alone in the bathroom during the countdown to New Year’s. Your throat is dry but you still manage to croak out some form of a response.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, and you notice he’s almost panting. You gesture to the stain on your dress with an expression that says “duh”.

“Oh, right, well I just wanted to get away from all the chaos and loudness, you know.”

“8!” The crowd outside keeps going, and they seem to be getting louder.

“You didn’t find any lucky girl to kiss when midnight struck?” you say, trying your best to make light of how insanely awkward this interaction is. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his feet shyly.

“Well I did, she was standing in the corner of the room all alone,” he takes a couple of steps towards you and his voice is sheepishly quiet.

“7!”

“She sounds like a loner,” you retort and he lets out a dry laugh. You’re trying to play it cool and act as if you’re not dying to just kiss him already, because you know that’d be too forward, especially for someone like you at a party like this.

“Well, I thought she was beautiful, at least until she got dragged away by her friend.”

“6!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but then I saw her later in the kitchen talking to some guys and figured she’d be more interested in them.”

“5!”

“I’m sure they were boring,” you decide to play along with his game.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure she would’ve much rather been talking to you instead of them, and hearing her friend talk about how if she didn’t kiss someone by midnight she’d have to deal with another year of being single,” this catches his attention, his eyebrow quirking up alongside a smirk spreading across his face.

“Really?”

“4!”

“Yep, until she spilled a bunch of wine on this dress she bought and ended up in the bathroom trying to clean it off.”

“3!”

”Sounds unfortunate.” He’s towering over you now, looking down at you with a softness in his eyes and a playfulness in his tone.

“Extremely.”

“2!”

You finally find the strength to stand up too, and almost immediately his hand finds its way around a strand of your hair, twirling it absent-mindedly. It moves to your cheek, then your chin, which he cups softly so that he can look into your eyes properly. You feel on fire underneath his touch. At this distance, he’s breathtaking. His eyes are almost enchanting and you feel tiny underneath their gaze, swallowing a lump nervously. He watches you intently, eyes flickering between his own and your lips - it’s clear what he’s thinking.

“1!”

The crowd outside erupts into cheers and the popping of confetti canons, but you’ve forgotten about them immediately as his lips crash into yours with a passion you realise haven’t experienced in a while. It’s not forceful though, it’s too perfect to be anything else. His hands snake around your body and support you - almost lifting you up into him, and you let him, your body turned to jelly under his touch. All the night’s eye contact, the silent messaging, the tension, has been squeezed into this single kiss and it just about knocks you off of your feet. Finally though, your lips separate, and you feel so dazed you can hardly form words.

“Carlos,” he says heavily.

“Huh?” you mumble, mind still processing.

“My name, my name is Carlos.”

“Oh, right, Happy New Year Carlos.”

[sweetjikook]

I just need to get this of my chest. And i know i will be blocked or cursed out by some ppl but frankly my dear idgaf!

I´ve been wondering why Tae needed to be on AYS for 2 days now. I just don´t get it! It was meant to be a Jimin and Jungkook travel vlog. Something they wanted to do together b4 they enlisted. Or at least that was what the company wanted us to believe??

So why do you as another member, friend ok, want to insert yourself in this?

Tae was not even aware of the travel vlog. That was very obvious when JK called him from their 1st cabin in CT. (Tkkers were happy to point out the texte "i love you" which was more of a joke...but ignored this part) 👇

A couple would know abt eo´s plans no? Anygays, moving on.

So after Jimin and JK returned home from this first part, NY and CT, and they made a decision to do another part in Jeju, he just asked to be in it too?? 🙄

Now i really hope we get to see the how and why of that story in ep 3 & 4. Cause i need to know!

And what comes next is what my gc friend said. I´m using it bc she said just what i was thinking and English is only my 3rd language. Thanks Mrs Lee! 😉

He’s a tag along attention seeking bum who can’t stand the attention being where it belongs, which is the ace duo. Imagine being so desperate for attention that you insert yourself in a show that a person planned to hangout with someone else because they REALLY missed you during y’all’s busy times….our favs can’t relate but dodo can.

And the worst part is that scripted (yes!) texte where he sits with Jikook calling AYS "our" 🙄

I know Koreans often use "our" instead of mine like we do ( they say "uri appa -우리아빠 " we say "my dad") but still why make him say that?

Well i´m gonna prepare myself the next days so i can watch ep 3 & 4 on Thursday without cursing. Bye!

[viburnt]

id love to read more about puppy dabi's lady and the tramp dynamic! could i request headcanons about how dabi met and became attached to his owner?

Hi, Anon! Thank you for requesting, lovely. Here are some headcanons for your favorite puppy boy! I hope you like them hehe.

Lady and the tramp: Doberman! Dabi meets his owner Headcanons

Dabi met you by mere coincidence and, to this day, he´s not very proud of the intentions he had when he first approached you. He was looking for an easy target to rob and you, looking like a dork with your job´s uniform (Dabi´s words), seemed perfect. He didn´t consider, however, that you felt no fear of his imposing and scary looks; hell, you even made small talk with him during the whole situation. "Ah, you need some money? It´s ok, I think I have some cash in my wallet. Is this enough?" *Confused Doberman noises* It was new for him, he´d never experienced kindness in such a way.

He was genuinely dumbfounded by your attitude towards him and something inside him simply went "Oh, ok, she´s dumb. Do I exploit this trait or..." Dabi even went as far as exchanging numbers with you, not sure of how that happened. You pretty much pulled an "Izuku Midoriya friendship move" and somewhat warmed his cynical heart.

This Doberman soon found himself keeping an eye on you from the shadows, making sure no one would bother you on your way home or to your workplace. If someone asked him why, he´d just say he was "keeping his cash cow safe", but the reality was that he was scared that your naivety would get you in trouble. It was already risky enough that you´d become close to him, what if someone else tried to abuse that dumb brain of yours? He figured it was because you had almost no experience on the streets, much like that doggie "Lady" from Lady and the Tramp. "Does that make me the tramp?" He often wondered, deciding to call you his lady for shits and gigs.

Touya is quick on picking your habits and likings, memorizing the streets you walk or what you buy at the convenience store for lunch. You also begin to reciprocate by being more open about you and your life, sharing quality time with him, and even going as far as inviting him over whenever he needs. It goes unnoticed at first, but whenever you say "Do you wanna come with me?" His tail wags with a happiness he hadn´t experienced before.

He becomes gradually more attached to you the more you start showing him the domestic side of life. Soon he finds himself waiting for the clock to mark 5 p.m. to join you on your path home; he allows you to touch him, and he allows you to approach. Hell, he becomes so comfortable with you that whenever you´re not around his brain screams "Where´s my dork?"

To put it in simpler words, he (being the tramp) having experienced life on the streets, fell for you (his lady), the one who showed sympathy and kindness to manage to tame his heart. And while he may not want to recognize it, you pretty much owned him in a way no other could.

"Do you like bubble tea? I like the flavors this store offers, so I bought you one too!" You said, handing Dabi the plastic cup. "Is this really ok? Why are you not scared of me?" The man asked, inspecting with curious eyes the drink you gifted him. "I don´t see why I should be scared, besides, I have no one to talk to. You´re a great listener, you know?"  Something inside Dabi felt warm, and he wasn´t sure of what it was; the stump of his tail wagged at your words. "Don´t be so fool, you barely know me." He explained, but you only shrugged it off. "Do you wanna harm me?" He shook his head. "If not friend, then why are you friend-shaped?" You joked, earning a hearty laughter from him. Only a month had passed since your first encounter, and it was so over for Dabi: you were too damn pure for your own good, and he liked that!

Tagging the club: @dabislittlemouse , @trickster-kat , @shonen-brainrot , @shionancientsblog

[yanban-san]

Oh, the boys would have such a reaction to seeing their darling without their tokens! The depot agents would definitely catch darling on the way into work and try to keep them and the bosses apart, but it's only a matter of time. And of course, all this hullabaloo over the feather and scale would only spur darling's new concerns further

Lord help those cultists if the twins ever find out who planted these ideas in the first place. Not even Arceus could save them

Putting it under a cut because long, also I did no proof reading T vT [Tags: Reader x Submas, SFW]

Oh, Certainly.

You can go back to Gear Station, setting aside the lovely scale Ingo gifted you- And the feather Emmet (unwittingly) bestowed upon you- And don your work uniform, heading into the station-

If something was trying to mark you- To bless you? To do- Something-

Well, you weren't going to let it. And you certainly weren't going to let whatever this "mystery" of the Subway was manipulate your coworkers or your bosses into… doing… things… for it? Your thoughts were racing through your head. There wasn't much for you to go on- And you certainly did not want to talk to that weird "psychic group" that hung around outside Gear Station any longer-

"You've been marked, young one."

Your heart sank every time you recalled those words. A cold chill running down your spine. You wanted to deny it as mad ramblings of mad people- But-

You had… good luck. You had very strange good luck. You had impossibly good luck. Certain people acted strangely around you- And to what end? Always your benefit- And- What of everything else that had happened? You, losing your job, suddenly finding yourself working for a train company- It wasn't something you had ever seen yourself doing, and certainly not long term, right? And yet- Here you were. Everything seemed to have lead you to Gear Station.

As though they were being manipulated by something- And you wanted nothing to do with any potential ghosts- Monsters- Pokemon? Whatever it was- Whatever the "mystery" was-

Nothing. You wanted nothing to do with it.

"Miss! You're a little late today," Jackie noted as you came into one of the back offices. "Anything bothering you today?"

Oh, sweet Jackie. He was always so polite- Everyone was.

Everyone was.

Oh dear.

"I'm doing okay," You lied. "I uh- Actually, you know what? Jackie, I have a question."

Your supervisor tilted his head. "Oh? What's up?"

"I- Have you- " What were you supposed to ask? Hey, are you being manipulated by some kind of something-or-other to be excessively nice to me? Is a demon controlling you? Have you seen any monstrous, non-pokemon entities prowling the subway that demanded you treat me perfectly?

Jackie adjusted his hat. "You can always ask me anything at all, Miss. I'm here for you and the all the rest of the Depot Agents, you know." One of his pokemon approached him- A Lilligant. He pet her head,

"Well, it's a little strange," You started off. "I don't suppose you've… run into those psychics that hang around Nimbasa City, have you? The ones who're usually around Gear Station?"

Jackie's face fell, a look of annoyance as his mouth scrunched up. "I've seen them, yea. A lot of them have been flat out banned from Gear Station, though. They've harassed employees, they've harassed the bosses, they've harassed customers- " He cut himself off, turning his attention back to you. "Why? Have they been bothering you?"

"Oh no, it's not that- I mean, I did get stopped by someone yesterday when I was walking, but- Well- What do you think about- What it is they say? About the er- Mystery-thing- in the subway?"

Jackie shrugged, sighing. "Oh, it's probably a load of nonsense- And besides, if there is anything in the tunnels, it's probably just a pokemon- Nothing you need to worry about, of course."

"What if it's not a pokemon, though?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I think- I think there might really be something- Down in the tunnels."

Oh fucking hell, Jackie thought. "A-And why would that be?"

"D'you know that scale Ingo found? The one he gave to me?"

Yes, yes I know it very well. "A little bit, why?" And come to think of it, why were you not wearing it-

"…I think it might be from our resident 'mystery'."

"Oh! Perhaps? I thought it was just a scale from an oddly-colored Haxorus." Jackie's hand pat aggressively on his Lilligant's head. "Come to think of it, isn't it usually in your pocket? You didn't lose it, did you?"

You shook your head. "Nope, I just… I think it might be better to leave it at home for a little bit, you know? It was stretching out my uniform's pocket, too."

Oh dear. "Gear Station isn't so particular about their uniforms, Miss. If it did get stretched, you get new uniforms every six months anyway, so…"

And come to think of it, the feather was missing from your cap. Jackie's blood ran cold. How was he to bring that up, too-

"…So, you think the scale came from… Something in the tunnels?"

You nodded. "…I think the feather I put in my cap may've also come from… It, too." Oh, well that answered that question.

Jackie sighed. "Well, if there is anything down there, I'm sure we'll find it- But in all my- Time working here, I've never seen anything out of the ordinary down there…"

"D'you think Ingo and Emmet would have any insight?"

"Into this? I doubt-"

"Insight into what?"

You don't know how you missed the clicking of Emmet's heels- Was he intentionally being quiet-? It took one turn of your head to notice your brilliantly white-coated boss hovering over your shoulder. Smiling brighter than the sun shone- and- Ominously.

"Oh- Emmet, Sir! Good morning-" You nearly jumped, but held yourself together- Your fright coming out as excitement.

"Good morning." He answered. His eyes scanned over you. "Something's different." His hand went to his mouth, and he answered his own question before you could even open your mouth. "Ah. The feather. Did you lose it? I hope not. It was verrry cute on your cap."

"Oh, I just- Left it at home today," You explained quickly. Why? Emmet didn't need to know-

"Aw. …Hmm. You're also missing that thing you kept in your pocket."

"The scale Ingo gave me?"

"That was it."

Emmet's posture changed. Why, he wanted to ask. He did not like this change. Maybe you only forgot them. That must've been it. That had to be it.

"Yeah… I thought it was… uh, unprofessional to hold onto trinkets while I work-"

Liar. Emmet thought. Why would you lie to him? You didn't lie about leaving them at home- But you were certainly lying now.

"But uh, the other thing-"

Oh?

"Emmet, Sir… Has there ever been… any… rumors… of- Strange… Pokemon, living in the subway tunnels?"

You looked up at your inscrutable boss cautiously. Emmet's eyes rolled as he thought about it for a moment- "Hmm. Someone's been reading some haunting stories, haven't they?" He smirked, eyes squinting. "There are a lot of people who like to use the subway tunnels as a backdrop for their scary stories. There's no odd pokemon down there. Just looots of verry cute joltiks!"

He patted your cap. "So don't put too much stock in those stories you hear, okay?"

"It- It wasn't a story, Sir-"

"I do miss that pretty feather in your cap though- You should put it back in."

Wait a moment. You felt your breath hitch.

"The feather?"

"Mmhmm! It is a verry pretty feather, you know?" Emmet's eyes narrowed. "I thought you liked it quite a bit too."

"Oh, I do-" And you paused.

Was Emmet- No, certainly he couldn't be-

Being… Controlled, could he? By whatever thing stalked you-

You considered your boss for a moment.

Emmet smiled. "So you'll put it back? Wonderful! It is verrry charming, is it not?"

"Huh?"

"The feather."

You recalled it.

"…I suppose." Was Emmet being controlled by the- By the thing that plagued you? "There was something I always… found off about it, though."

And in the silence that followed, you could have heard your blood running through your veins.

"…What's wrong with it?"

The tone of Emmet's voice sent a shiver down your spine- The color drained from Jackie's face- And yet you wouldn't have noticed the latter, deciding to try and find out for yourself-

Was Emmet being manipulated? And your current feelings turned to- Well, yes, it certainly did seem that way.

"It just… feels off, you know? Like yes, it's wonderfully soft and shimmery, but… I can't help but feel like… it's not a real feather, or something. Like it's…" What to say- Something- Something to tell the thing that followed you that you wanted nothing to do with it?

"…fake?"

The Subway Boss stared at you, cocking his head curiously. You felt nervous- Where had Jackie gone, you wondered? Your supervisor was suddenly absent from the office-

"I see. Well, I must get going."

Emmet's smile never left his face. But his heart and mind burned. You watched him turn tail and pace away, always so perfectly postured. Well, no use waiting around here, you thought, and off you went to

Emmet burned. Not with anger, no, certainly not, but something indescribable. An emotion, certainly, that was driving him madder and madder by the second, the more he thought about it. Fake? His feathers? Fake? Himself? And not only that, but you had the audacity to believe silly little rumors or stupid stories over his own words?

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Almost like a self-soothing mantra. You must be lying, surely, little mortal.

You wouldn't hurt them like this.

You're destined to love them. To be with them forever- To be theirs, forever-

Emmet would have to have a chat with his brother about this.

But the other Subway Boss was already finding you as well.

To Ingo, it was odd- You had clocked in, but-

He couldn't feel the warmth of your heart against that lonesome little scale he gave you. Surely you hadn't lost it? No matter- He could always happen upon another, saying it was from a hydreigon or similar-

"Ah, there you are, Miss."

He watched as you darted out of another hallway- Laden with blueprints and answering something on your walkie-talkie.

Ingo was not one to demand attention. He was reserved- Refined. He studied human mannerisms and etiquette- Such things were meaningless drivel, easily learned and retained- Service workers kept their arms behind their backs, or at their sides, their backs straight, feet oh-so-far apart-and-not-a-millimetre-more- Head perfectly held up but not too high- Shoulders back, and a bow to ladies as he held the door for them- Refined movements with not a step too widely taken. There were a million more rules, and subtle cues he had learned- And he would've learned a million more if he had to. Nonsense, all of it- The pompous drivel that humans inflicted on themselves, though, mannerisms and etiquette were something he and his brother were subjected to in any dealings with mortals or other things, no matter the age or era. And while Emmet was certainly the more impatient of the two-

Ingo was reserved. Nobori knew that, come what may, his desires would be his- He was never an impatient being, because, no matter what, all things came to an end, eventually. All things. No matter how many thousands of eons he must wait. And so, he knew, you would eventually end up in his arms.

And yet, for all his refinement- For all his patience-

Your mere presence tested every part of his perfectly crafted facade. If you confessed your undying affection to him at any moment, it would not be soon enough- Oh, to finally hold you in his arms- Oh, to finally revel in your embrace-

Oh, to finally receive your love and adoration, your affection, openly and freely- To be free himself to be as jealous and possessive as he desired- There was a reason he wished to cloak you in shadows, and keep you away from prying eyes- There were no eyes fit to behold you to him- No light fair enough to catch your countenance (Except, perhaps, Kudari's)- No gift too great to give you- If only, if only, you would turn your eyes up to him in love.

And you did love them, even if you didn't know it yet. Ingo was certain. You were wrapped around his fingers, and trapped within his net. He loved you dearly- And elder demons who dwell beyond time and space, moving with the ebb and flow of ancient forces so vast and unknowable and ancient and imperceptible were not used to feeling such a base emotion as love-

And it had consumed him, entirely. At first, he would've been content to steal you away- He would've been content to force your love from your heart, binding you to him until you couldn't tell where the shadows began and you ended-

But not now.

Love was a bit like a drug- A drug that didn't seem to wear off. And oh, how he became enslaved to his adoration of you- No, merely kidnapping you- That was the sort of thing a beast would do. And Nobori was far cleverer than a mere human.

No no, you would be his. You would seek him out on your own, and soon you wouldn't wish to leave him-

After all, he had watched you for so long from your shadows. You sighed and complained of your boss and your work at your old job- No more. No matter where you applied or wanted to go, the brothers knew you would be happiest by their side- Not working among strangers who would treat you like common filth, so your resumes were tattered and torn apart in shadows- Or a recruiter conveniently forgot to call you. And no matter what work you wanted-

Gear Station had need of your skills. Gear Station had dire need of your skills. Gear Station had dire need of you.

And everything seemed to be going so well- From the first nervous moment you stepped into their office for an interview, to how well you took to the training, the joy on your face from working among them- Of course you were happy. You would be nothing less among them.

So when you drew the precious scale of his out of your pocket, and placed it on some counter last night- He was not worried. You usually did that. But when he failed to feel your hand come morning, or the tender beat of your heart and the rise of your lungs as he had grown so fond of-

The elder deity was unnerved. He hadn't realized how much he had found himself yearning for the feeling- And without it, it left a hollow, ill feeling in him. He thought seeing you would fix it- But looking at your nervous face, the way you clung to yourself like a frightened minccino-

"Whatever is the matter, Agent-?" Ingo asked-

Leering down at you, a cruel look in his dark eyes- Or at least, that's how it looked to you.

"Ah, Ingo, Sir…" You trailed off. You hadn't wanted to run into him. "Nothing much, I'm… supposed to do a tunnel inspection? So, I'll get goin-"

"No no, I meant- You look rather worried. Is something bothering you? You can always come to me or Emmet if you have any concerns, you know-"

You shook your head. "No no, nothing like that- I er, uh, I'm just- I guess I'm feeling a little off today,"

*How were you to explain-

"…Your cap seems… Ah- Did you leave that feather at home today?" Ingo broached. He had noticed the lack of scale in your pocket, as well. But the scale was far more hidden in your uniform than the feather- And it was some mortal manner to not stare at someone's chest and inspect their breast pockets for any objects they may or may not contain, was it not?

Oh please no, not Ingo too- You thought, feeling more and more desperate. Why? What was the significance of that stupid feather and scale? Why? They might come from the thing- But why?

"Er, yes, I left them at home, I don't- I don't think it's good for me to wear the- it, to work, you know?"

"I saw no issue with it, and I'm certain Emmet didn't eith-"

"I saw issue with it."

And once again, silence. Ingo looked down at you, silver eyes unnaturally bright against the harsh shadows cast from the brim of his hat-

It made him look mad. Deranged.

And with trepid movement, you took a small step backwards. Perhaps it was paranoia, perhaps it was fear- Perhaps you were imagining things, yes, that had to be it-

"…There was an issue? With it?"

"Yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to my work. I… I was a little late this morning."

And you brushed past him without another word, leaving him dumbfounded. A chill swept through the hallway, and Ingo watched your figure vanish down another turn towards the subway tunnels.

…Had you just rejected his gift to you? His lovely brother's gift to you? What issue was there with their scale and feather? Did that mean you took issue with them?

The elder God was certain he-they- had you ensnared. Under his claws, his gaze, wrapped in his shadows- You were bound to be his mate, bound to be his, entirely, entirely his-

"Brother."

Ingo turned his eyes- Emmet. Who had been watching you as well, vanish behind the tunnel door. And peaking out behind him, was Depot Agent Jackie.

"I'-I'm certain it's nothing big, Emmet, Sir! And Ingo, Sir, er- Don't worry, if you- If you leave this to us Agents, I'm certain we can figure out what changed their mind-"

"You better." Emmet snapped, not taking his eyes off where you turned. Jackie saluted, and without another word, ran away to carry out his bosses' orders. Emmet bit his lip.

"Brother, she said there was something wrong with my feather."

Ingo's brow furrowed. "Wrong? Whatever could they mean?"

"I don't know."

"And- My scale- She took that off, too."

"Yes, she did that too."

"And your feather!"

"Yes. And my feather."

Ingo grabbed at his sleeves. This didn't… make any sense. You had said you loved his scale- You fawned over and adored the feather you'd found-

So why. What had changed? Why did you now shy away, why were you so uncomfortable around them? Why did you dislike their gifts now-? Ingo scratched at his back. An unusual cold spot had manifested- A feeling he wasn't aware he could feel- Where his scale had used to be.

Emmet threw back his head, hair ruffling up like feathers- "If darling refuses us…" And began walking towards the door you disappeared down-

"They won't," Ingo reassured.

"They will not. One way or another."

Ingo glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye, following him. "…Do you have anything in mind to remedy this situation, brother?"

Emmet pondered a moment. "Would Miss Elesa be able to get it out of them, the reason, you think?"

"I don't know. They seem… Suspicious, don't they?"

"Nonsense! Elesa can figure it out."

And Elesa would have her day quite rudely interrupted by an incessant call from her X-Transceiver- Unendingly ringing, until she threw it off in annoyance- Probably something to do with those two, she thought. The last thing she needed- More headaches, more pestering- And she'd probably have to pester you, too. Perhaps if she ignored it, she wouldn't have to deal with it, she hoped.

Until Emmet breaks into her gym, doe-eyed and asking so sweetly for her help once more. Certainly, you trust Elesa, right? You won't find her suspicious.