#and you can't help but smile because it's just so god damn beautiful.

[brotherwtf]

14. "Do you know that your eyes actually have three different colours?" "You're very close."

Aah this one for clegan? 🥺

God these bitches are going to be the end of me this will be so damn cute

now hold on just a damn minute chat bcs Austin's eyes are fucking BEAUTIFUL

----

Gale had known John for all of two weeks before he had claimed him as his "best friend".

It wasn't hard, really, John was quick to laugh and quicker to befriend, he talked easily and slung his arm around anyone's willing, or even unwilling, shoulder. Everybody liked Bucky. Not everyone liked Gale.

Gale was shy, kept to himself and did what he needed to get done and did it well, didn't care for the vices everyone else had to get through flight school. He was going to be a fighter pilot, only needed to care about himself and no one else.

But Bucky had completely turned that idea upside down, as he had done with most things in Gale's life. He whined and pouted when Gale told him he was training to fly alone, "what if I need your help while flying? I can't do that when you're in a fighter plane" John would pout and Gale just brushed him off, told him he would be fine, but then he was asked to fly a B-17 with John smiling cheekily in the copilots seat and he had been hooked ever since.

John had practically ripped him out of his shell, and he still found ways to be incredibly obnoxious. Like when he had dragged Gale to the outskirts of the Texas airbase because he "couldn't stand the stuffy weather anymore". When Gale pointed out the weather would stay the same John shrugged, told him it would probably be a little different, right? And of course, Gale begrudgingly followed him.

Now they were laying on their sides, facing each other while John talked mindlessly about his childhood, switching topics from baseball to the rinky dink jazz band he was in when he was twelve. Gale was content to listen, appreciated that John always seemed to fill the space. Even in the silence John seemed to be studying him, eyes flicking over Gale's face while he scrunched his eyebrows. He inched closer until their chests were touching, noses just inches from Gale's. It made Gale's heart pound, John was looking at him intently it almost made him dizzy.

"Did you know that your eyes are three different colors, Buck? I swear I see a new one every time I look," John asks, breathing out a heavy sigh that fans over Gale's face and causes him to almost shudder, even in the hot Texas sun.

"You're really close there, Bucky. And they're nothing special, just blue like my mama," Gale says and tries not to sound like he's gasping for air.

John leans even closer, tip of his nose brushing Gale's and Gale gasps, almost ripping the grass beneath him in the firm fistful he has.

"Nah it ain't just blue. Got some green and grey in there, it's all different shades of blue too. Some like the sky and some like Lake Michigan where I grew up. Damn, Buck, you've got the prettiest damn eyes I've ever seen," John says and his voice is almost a whisper, almost in awe at Gale's eyes.

"Ain't nothing special," Gale whispers and he foolishly lets his eyes slip down to John's parted lips. Dangerous, considering that his eyes are all that Johns looking at.

John notices the quiet flick down and smiles something lopsided, a rogue hand coming up to push a strand of hair that got dislodged by the wind from Gale's forehead.

"It's not just your eyes that are pretty, Buck. Got a fucking face like Lana Turner," John breathes and Gale find that he can't, his breath caught in his chest.

There's only an inch between their faces, and John closes it with ease, lips soft on Gales and Gale gasps, makes a startled noise before letting his shoulders relax and kissing John back. It's a simple press of lips but Gale's head spins. John's kissing him, he can't believe John's kissing him.

The hand that pushed away the wayward strand of hair cups Gale's face, smoothing over his cheekbone as he moves his lips against Gale's, still soft and tender but with the slightest suggestion of heat. Gale lets John take control, willing to just be a passenger for this experience instead of having to overthink every single move.

John pulls away with a slight wet pop, eyes trained on Gale's lips when all he could think about was his eyes just a moment ago. Gale holds onto John's wrist and presses their foreheads together, sighing something deep and heavy.

"Is this okay, Buck?" John asks and Gale nods against his forehead.

"Better than okay, Bucky. Can't believe it took us this long to do that," Gale whispers and John just smiles before meeting his eyes and kissing him again.

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[suiana]

yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...

he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.

and then you came stumbling right into his life.

you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.

"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"

"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"

maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.

you don't quite share the same sentiment though.

you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!

"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."

"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."

he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.

it's infuriating, you think.

you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.

but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!

however...

"where do you think you're doing?"

"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"

"yes."

"???"

you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.

"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"

"i am going to punish you."

"punish?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?

the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.

"yes, punish."

he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.

"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."

what the- what is he doing?!

"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."

he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!

"hey I don't understand-"

"of course you don't. you're confused."

he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...

"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."

he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.

"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"

huh? what's sex gotta do with this?

"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."

wait what?!

[loulovingho]

“Hey, Cutie. What's your name?”

Buck stopped digging to look up at the man, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Buck,” he replied simply, sucking in a deep breath.

“Buck?” he questioned. “Just Buck?”

Buck sighed. “Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck.”

The man smiled. “Evan's nice. I like Evan. I'm gonna call you Evan.”

“My boyfriend's really the only one who does that.”

The man stepped closer, invading Buck's personal space. “You're already taken?”

“I- I am,” Buck replied, tripping over his words. Now that he was closer, this man did have some beautiful blue eyes. They nearly stared right into his soul.

“Hm.” The man shook his head. “That's a shame,” he looked Buck up and down. “You're really... really hot.”

“Pr- Probably from the wildfire th- that's nearby.”

The man laughed. Damn, even his laugh did something to Buck. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I think you'd look good no matter what.”

“I really, um, I need to get back to digging, so the fire doesn't spread.”

“Looks like you could use a break to me.” The man pulled a bottle of water from his pocket, and the sight of it nearly made Buck's dry mouth start to water. “Ice cold, just for you.”

And well, it would almost be rude not to take the water. So he did.

He twisted the cap off and drank nearly half the bottle down. He couldn't help but notice the man watched every gulp, staring at his throat like he wanted to lick the sweat right off.

“Thank you,” Buck said once he finished. He went to hand the bottle back, but the man shook his head.

“That's yours,” he said. “Can't have a man as handsome as you passing out from dehydration. Someone may have to give you mouth to mouth.”

Buck swallowed hard. “Th- Then why'd you give me the water?”

Buck watched the man's blue eyes darken, his breathing picking up. He reached out, tugging on the collar of Buck's wildland gear to fix it. “You've gotta be careful, Evan. I don't usually go for taken men, but I might have to change my mind.” His hand slowly ran down Buck's chest as he pulled away from him.

Buck's breath hitched. He couldn't look away from this man. Couldn't help all the feelings bubbling up deep in his gut. “I... I don't even know your name.”

“Might be better that way,” the man replied, taking another step closer. His eyes moved down to Buck's lips. “I'll be able to remember you forever, and you can go back to your boyfriend and forget I ever existed.”

“I- I don't know if I could do that.”

“What? Go back to your boyfriend? Or forget me? Cause-”

“Dear God,” Eddie interrupted, exasperated. “You know other people can hear you, right? Get a room, or better yet, get a truck. I'll cover for you if it'll get you two to stop... whatever the hell this is.”

Buck sighed, resting a hand on his hip as he turned to Eddie. “We were just getting to the good part.”

“You've done this before?!” he exclaimed.

“Two days ago,” Hen informed him as she passed by. She gave a wave to the man. “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi, Hen. Eddie,” he greeted with a nod and a smile.

Eddie groaned. “You two are pathetic.”

“Oh, are they doing that weird roleplay thing again?” Chimney asked as he walked up beside Eddie.

“You've heard it too?”

“I think half the firefighters in the county have heard it by now.”

“Three weeks!” Buck reminded them, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “We've been here for three weeks without more than a few seconds alone. Let me have this.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “I'm gonna go get me a water since, apparently, it doesn't matter if I pass out from dehydration.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I'll bring you a water next time.”

“What about me?” Chimney asked. “Because, if I remember right, you'll have to give me mouth to mouth if I fall to the ground.”

“I will bring everyone water next time.” Tommy spoke loudly, so everyone around could hear.

“That's better,” Chimney said. He patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Come on, let's give the lovebirds a minute.”

Tommy turned back to Buck. “As much as I'd love to finish the scene,” he said once the others had walked away, “I do have to go. I told my group I'd only be five minutes.”

Buck couldn't help his pout, but he also knew he had to get back to work too. “When we get home, if we ever get to go home, we're not putting on clothes for three days.”

Tommy smiled, nose scrunching up. “Deal,” he agreed. He leaned in and gave Buck a quick peck on the lips. “I gotta go. Love you, Cutie,” he said with a wink.

Before he could walk off, Buck grabbed his turnouts and pulled Tommy back for one more kiss before letting him go. “Love you too. Be safe.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[wonryllis]

☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[nebarious]

Hybern: *points at y/n* We have your lover

Rhys: *looks at y/n* You have a lover?

Y/N: I wish

Hybern: Then who is the one who can't stop talking about how beautiful you are ? Or how melodic your laugh is or whenever he enters a room he always looks for you first because, according to him, your presence alone brings him peace and how that damn smile can make him feel this whole zoo in his stomach and he can't help but imagine how it feels like to kiss those lips and don't get him started with those eyes

Hybern: We had enough, so we didn't let him get started with those eyes

Cassian: Oh my god, they have Azriel!

Y/N: *looks at rhys* Now, if you get him back, I'll have a lover

Feyre: So none of you is concerned that hybern literally has azriel?

Cassian: Knowing him, he let them catch him so he can make someone confess his love for y/n cause he's too scared to do it himself

Hybern: He used us as wingman?

Rhys: Yeah. Just finish talking to him he is on his way home

[alley-cc]

John Price x Plus size reader

Note: F!Reader ------ MDNI 18+

He hears you before he sees you. "My date left. Mum he just saw me then walked away." you murmur. You sit at the table beside his, nursing an iced coffee with one hand and a phone to your ear with the other.

A soft girl, the prettiest thing he's seen all day. No. All year - maybe longer. He can see you're doing your best to hold back tears, eyes red rimmed and quiet sniffles masked under the sound of the busy cafe. Your arms tucked around your round beautiful body. Hair tied in a half up, half down style with some strands pulled out to frame your face. Probably because you felt it made your round face look slimmer.

John keeps to himself for the moment, quietly eavesdropping on your phone call. He'd only been back from deployment for a week and he was itching to lure a pretty lady like yourself into his sheets. He's got four weeks of leave and he's damn well sure your his new mission for that allocated time - maybe longer if he can help it.

It's been months since he had a pretty girl in his hands. Someone he could really hold onto. A body built to be loved and worshipped. God, what he would do to have you. To kiss every inch of your skin, show you how much you deserve love and adoration. His eyes discreetly wander over your perfect shape. The way your gorgeous tits slightly spill out of the low-cut blouse. The way your high waisted jeans dig into you. Your wide beautiful ass that struggles to be contained by the shitty plastic chairs that seem the creak under the smallest movement.

"I'll just settle for being alone. " you huff. Price won't settle for that. No. No. No. He can't stand the idea of you wallowing in your own sorrow. All of this self doubt over an asshole who is obviously blind. He has half a mind to call the team and hunt the muppet down - have him apologise on his hands and knees to you. Embarrass the prick like he obviously embarrassed you. Oh, the things he would do to see you smile.

So, he waits. It doesn't take long for your phone call to end and him to strike. Getting up from his table and taking a short walk over to yours.

"How about I treat you to a real date?" He asks.

____________________________________________________________

It's been a looooonnng time since I've written fan fiction so don't mind the crusty dusty grammar. Hope you enjoyed and remember to stay slay and drink water you gorgeous souls. Mwah xoxo

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt with a goatee kills me...please imagine him. PLEASE. 18+ under cut, MDNI

I can't get it out of my head, but him with a goatee is one of my favorite looks ever. He's just sooo hot, that blue devil knows it too. I mean look at that fucking grin 😩

Warnings: afab reader, a lot of teasing because look at him, oral sex, brief unprotected sex, fingering, using his tail, semi-exhibitionistic situation

WC: 1.2k (kinda short, will write more of this one in the future though ^^)

I want to imagine so many things with him. Watching him groom would be hot for no reason. Him combing it or styling it in the mirror, catching glances and shooting you that damn smile. "What are you looking at, schatz? You always stare at me when I do this." he hummed as his tail flicked.

"Dunno just...watching you mess with it." you reply with a soft shrug, trying to hide how attractive you find his goatee.

Or laying on him at any point and reaching up to play with it, he grabs your wrist lightly and tsks you. "Ah, ah...now I just finished styling, meine liebling, you will make it a mess if you play with it." he smiled down at you, cheeky and knowing. You know, that smile that his canines poke out and you can't help but squirm where you are.

Imagine feeling that hair rub against your skin as his tongue laps away at you, he nearly pulls you up off the bed, his face buried as hot breaths leave his nostrils while his tongue is completely occupied. He slides it up and down your wet slit and flicks your clit, your juices soak his goatee and he pulls back, strings of spit and arousal connecting him to you.

"Ah, liebe...you are drooling..." he chuckled, his finger swiping over your wet clit and gently pushing inside, his finger slowly pumping in and out of you while you write beneath him. His expert movements pressed upward, curling and finding that delicious spot inside you that made you moan louder.

"So schön, I will always remember these sounds you make for me..." he purred and leaned down, his glossy lips pressed into yours. You could taste yourself on him, his goatee slightly damp too. Oh god, it turned you on so badly you felt like you were in heat.

"Kurt, I need more than a finger, and you know it..." your body squirmed as he playfully continued to curl his finger inside you, gently pressing up on that sweet spot that made you nearly see stars.

"I know, I know, I am not too cruel to deny you your needs." he retracted his finger from you, watching how your pussy tightened from the absence and he sighed, his cock growing harder between his legs as he looked down at your beautiful body.

"Mein Engel...you are like a piece of art in a cathedral..." he placed kiss after kiss on your body, his hands rubbing your hips and sides, his tail delicately wrapping around your wrists and guiding your arms above your head. "I worship only one God...but perhaps I could spare some of that dedication to you." he winked. "The closest to a real angel I shall ever see."

You whined, his words were so tender but his gestures were so hot, you felt loved and turned on at the same time. "Please, I can't wait any longer..." you glanced down at his cock, erect as a bead of precum got too heavy and slowly drizzled out of him, leaking onto your belly.

His cock was beautiful, his head swollen and purple, the damn thing always made you arch your back and you wanted him in you every chance you got. Especially when he gave you that stupid smirk that made your pussy grow hot and wet.

You gasped when he rubbed his tip up and down your silky folds, your mind fogged as you whimpered. He grunted, biting his lip as he slid himself against you, slickening himself up a little bit so it wasn't such a stark penetration. "Ready?" he arched a brow, looking down at you as he positioned himself once more.

You were so needy at this point, you couldn't help but buck your hips towards him and his tip slid in. He grabbed your hips and pinned them to the mattress, smirking at you. "Naughty thing." he panted softly, "You have no patience, do you, dove?" he questioned with a false tinge of disappointment.

You pouted slightly, your bottom lip protruding a bit. He chuckled at that and rubbed your lip with the pad of his thumb, "Now, don't pout, dove. I will give you what you need. I know if I don't, you'll become a little Teufel, won't you?" he nipped your neck and smiled against your skin as you let out a loud moan when he slid the rest of his length inside you.

Or imagine him getting out of the shower, his entire body slick and wet, his hair soaked and dripping onto the mat below him when he steps out. His goatee gathering large water droplets all the same. They drip onto his chest and run down his body, you have to hold back when you see him drying off, he ruffles his hair with the towel and he smiles at you.

How soft it would be after he showers. He grooms and fixes himself up after drying, and he kisses you, since you know you like that first thing after he's all done. "Still love it?" he questions with a chuckle, watching you sigh happily. You nearly melt in his arms.

"Oh yes, still love it..." you whisper and lean in for another kiss so you could feel that facial hair against you once more.

He makes jokes about shaving it off, (he's kidding), just to see you whine and beg him not to. "Oh, my heart," he holds his chest like he were shot. "Would thou not love me, if I were but a hairless blue boy?" he feigns dramatically. He always makes you laugh, your panic dying down and you roll your eyes at him. "Tease."

He knows that a single look gets you weak in the knees. During meetings, he will glance at you and you feel yourself stiffen in your seat. Suddenly you have good posture, and he chuckles to himself. If he feels extra cheeky...he will do more than just glance and give you a smirk.

His tail snakes around your leg, the spade slithering between your legs and pressing your core. Your breath hitches, you desperately try to look like nothing is happening, trying to pay attention to whatever is being said, but this blue imp doesn't make it easy.

His tail slides up and down, caressing your cunt through your clothes before he manages to slide it under, his bare tail feels your wet folds and you can see him grin out of the corner of your eye. "Frecher Vogel." he whispers so only you can hear.

You have to bite your lip, the tip of his tail pokes inside your wet entrance, exploring you expertly even though he was practically blind in the moment. He moved his tail tip to your bud and teases it, your legs naturally spread more and you hook your feel around the back of each chair leg, needing to focus on something else to keep you from moaning out loud in front of everyone.

The feeling of your sensitive bud being played with send shocks through your body, you were shaking with anticipation as his tail rubbed your clit, trying your absolute best to stay still. The gentle movements of it were driving you crazy, and the fact that it was his tail made everything feel even more naughty. He sat still like nothing was happening beneath the table, that cheeky bastard.

Your cheeks were surely red by now, no amount of hiding or squirming could distract from that. You feigned you weren't feeling well, which is why you looked feverish. Though, a quick glance at Emma and the split second of eye contact had her smirking like a fox at you.

Damn telepaths.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images: Immortal X-Men #7 (2022)

[sanguineterrain]

Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭

Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?

hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol

dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words

****

You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.

"My love, you almost ready?"

You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.

"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."

The door opens. Your heart swoops.

Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.

Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.

And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.

"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."

He's lying.

That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.

You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.

But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.

You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."

“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."

Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.

Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.

You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."

“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."

You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 

****

The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  

You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 

He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 

Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—

“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”

You're exhausted. 

“Uh-hmm.”

He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 

Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.

“Dickie!” 

Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 

Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.

When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.

“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”

“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”

“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 

“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 

She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.

Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.

"This is my partner," he says about you.

Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."

You nod. She turns back to Dick.

“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 

“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 

Dick and I go way back.

Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 

“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”

“I feel sick,” you announce. 

Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."

You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.

Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.

Your feet start moving.

"Baby—"

Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—

You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.

Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.

Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.

You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—

"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"

Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.

"I need to break up with you," you blurt.

"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"

You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.

"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"

"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"

"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"

You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.

"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.

You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."

"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."

"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."

Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"

"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"

"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."

"Wh—that's not true!"

"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"

Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?

"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"

And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."

"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"

"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."

"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"

"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."

You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.

His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.

"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"

His heart beats against your cheek.

"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."

"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.

"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."

He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.

[ikarakie]

steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.

so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.

he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"

he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"

"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.

by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.

steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.

eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.

"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.

it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.

until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.

"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.

keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."

[outlawinthisworld1117]

Perhaps in another life | Fleabag AU

☆ pairing: priest!Yunho x fleabag!(fem)reader

☆ genre: Angst, Smut, there is some light fluff as well because I genuinely cannot resist writing it in everything I do.

☆ summary: It's just a Fleabag au... I don't really know what to say here. Yunho is the Priest and you are Fleabag…

☆ warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! Religious themes, fingering, oral (f), Praise kink?, edging, vaginal sex, protected sex, aftercare (idk if I need to put a warning for that? but I've seen other ppl do it before so...), pet names (Angel, baby, good girl), Priest kink??, reader does call him Father sometimes, requited love that can't be pursued... ouchie.

☆ word count: 3.8k

☆ authors note: I heard that Yunho is (most likely) Catholic and my religious trauma manifests in interesting ways >:). This work is fiction and purely self-indulgent (really as all fanfics should be), it doesn’t reflect any of the members personally. The fourth wall break text is highlighted in red!

You weren’t good at love, never had been, and probably never would be. But it wouldn’t stop you from trying because he was all you could think about. Day and Night. Always on your mind. You met him at a family dinner you were unwillingly dragged to. Jeong Yunho. Pretty name. He was the only one that asked about you the entire night. No one ever cared to ask about you, but he did. How could you not form an attachment? You ran into him again while on your way home from work. You were able to see him better in the sunlight. Beautiful smile, really tall, kind eyes… his hands. Oh, Lord. His hands were gorgeous, and his neck was so— Shit… He was wearing a clerical collar. Fuck. He was Father Yunho. 

He’s a priest. I want to fuck a priest…

That didn’t stop you from seeing him though, nor thinking about him the way you did. How could it? Religious trauma manifested in strange ways. You would visit him at his church. He always welcomed you with a smile, and you would talk for hours. Sometimes about God, you weren’t religious and probably never would be, but sometimes he would ask about you. How you were doing. What your job was. How long you’ve lived here. Where you grew up. Your favorite color. The movies you enjoyed most. Your ex-boyfriends. Your future plans. What you ate for breakfast. He was so curious about everything you had to say. Shit. This was dangerous. You didn’t care though. You would ask about him and the more you learned the more you felt yourself falling for him. Your conversations started to become more intimate. Oh fuck. You were so attracted to him and you could tell he felt the same way about you.

How you ask? Well, it’s simple. Let me recall what happened yesterday, shall I?

“I’d better get going Father, lot’s of stuff to do today—”

He grinned, “Oh fuck you calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it”

That’s how… 

And we made out in the confessional box right after.

You felt sick. Nauseous. Your head was pounding.

I really shouldn’t have gone out last night.

Or maybe your headache wasn’t from the ridiculous amount of alcohol you consumed, but instead, of each thought about him that consumed your very being. You didn’t know. What you did know was that if your bus didn’t show up in the next couple of minutes you were probably going to throw up all over the bench you were sitting on. Putting your head in your hands helped distract you from the throbbing against your skull. Though it couldn’t help you with what would happen next. Taking a deep, mind-clearing breath, you lifted your head up from your hands and there he was. Sitting right beside you. Like a damn apparition, waiting to jump scare you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!—” He waved his large hands expressively.

“How long have you been—”

“Literally like two seconds,” He clarified quickly.

You exhaled, what felt like your entire soul, out, “W-why? What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you. It always made you feel weak. Such a beautiful smile, but it was quickly replaced with a pursed frown. His eyes became serious as he stared into yours. Then at your lips. Lingering for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“I don’t think you should come by the church anymore. Actually, I don’t just think… this is me pleading with you to not come by anymore.”

You just stared at him, unable to breathe, your chest felt so tight.

“And I mean that with the greatest of compliments,” he gushed before he got up and left. Just like that. He was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

What. the. fuck…

Regardless of his intent, it didn’t matter if you never went to that church again because you would still see him. At your house. Later that night. Knocking on your door like his life depended on it. So when you opened it up for him, he rushed in looking frantic. Pacing back and forth in your living room before sitting down on your couch, imploring you to do the same. So you did. He wasted no time to speak.

“I’ve sacrificed a lot for this life— I…” His words faltered, unsure of what to even say or why he came to your house in the first place.

You seemed to understand why he was there though. Nodding you took his hand, squeezing it gently in hopes that it would provide him some shred of comfort.

He took a relaxed breath, staring at the floor for a long time before he spoke again, “I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday. I have to make sacrifices, yet I chose to be selfish. You…. You make me want to be selfish more than anything.”

You didn’t even realize he had moved until you felt his breath tickling your face. He was so close to you. Staring into your eyes, searching, begging, praying that he would find an answer he so desperately craved.

“It’s okay to be selfish, Father,” You whispered, “You’re not going to burst into flames. It  just makes you human.”

His palm was on your cheek, caressing it as he moved just a little bit closer to you. His breath seemed strained, building up to being labored. You had no idea the effect you had upon him, “I know. But… I can’t. I can’t allow myself to be selfish with you.”

Oh my god. We’re going to fuck.

“Why not allow yourself to, Father?”

He’s totally going to fuck me right here.

“I cannot be intimate with you—”

Oh, yes, yes he can.

“— oh for FUCKS SAKE. What is that?” He leaned back from you, his hand moved from your face to your thigh as his eyes were once again searching yours.

“What is what?”

His hand is…

“THAT! Right there. Where do you go when you do that?” His eyes were locked in on you, with extreme clarity, like he could effortlessly read the inner workings of your soul.

“I— I was just thinking…” You whispered, overwhelmed by his detailed observation. No one had ever noticed you like he did. No one. It made you feel hot.

“What are you thinking, Angel?” He pleaded sweetly as if he didn’t just shock your entire being.

Angel…

You stayed quiet, feeling exposed in front of him, worried that he could read your thoughts. He started to rub along your thigh, stilling before he spoke with a deep husky tone, “We’re going to have sex, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah…”

That was all he needed before moving his other hand to cup your face, quickly closing the gap between you as he ardently placed his lips upon yours. He started slow, mapping out your lips with his. He was so observant, noting every touch, taste, and feeling with small, curious movements. Warmth blossomed in your chest, he made you feel so wanted and cared for. He always made you feel this way. And then, as if he was suffocating and you were his oxygen, he began kissing you fervently. Pouring every ounce of selfishness he could into this act like he would never get to do it again. You carded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, never wanting to let go of him out of fear he would slip away forever. Begging to be let in, he pressed his tongue lightly, and you gladly obliged, parting your lips like they were the Red Sea. He tasted of red wine and he always smelled so good. Like a room full of unscented candles that were just blown out. Smokey and sensual. It turned the warmth in your chest into a burning desire. You couldn’t help the sounds you were letting out as his hands explored over your body. His dexterous, long fingers traced along you, memorizing how you felt beneath him.

“Do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He moved your position so that you were lying down, his weight pressing on top of you, enveloping your senses completely. You could feel what he meant on your hip. Oh; And his pants were restraining him. A lot. Oh, Jesus… Hallelujah.

“Yunho…” You breathed lightly, aching for more of him. To which he understood, perfectly, like he always did.

You wrapped your legs around his waist when he picked you up from the couch. Easily. His arms never letting go of your ass on the way to your room. He groaned at the friction he was getting from you as he walked. Once he set you down he began loosening his collar. You watched tantalizingly as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He was so beautiful, his chest was lean and sculpted, like a marble statue. You whined when his shirt slipped off completely, feeling embarrassed from the noise that escaped your lips. He grinned at you as he moved forward, causing you to lay flat against your bed. His long fingers teased at the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His breath hitched when he saw your bra. A black, lacy one you bought recently in the hopes he would be seeing it. 

Dreams do come true.

“Stop that. I want you present here with me,” He begged, tipping your chin so you were looking at him again, as his lips attached to your neck in a feverish haste. Nipping and licking along you like you were a sweet treat he was enjoying for the first time after Lent. Small moans escaped his lips, causing heat to shoot to your core. He moved down from your neck to the mounds of your breasts, kissing lightly while his hand explored your inner thigh. Every small movement made the warmth inside you grow. Snaking his fingers up to the button on your pants he undid it quickly, expertly removing your pants and tossing them to the side with the rest of the discarded clothing. Your panties matched the bra, earning a small hiss from him that shot a thrill through you.

“You’re quite good at this Father. Like you’ve done it before?” You teased him. His eyes were dark and needy, admiring you lying beneath him as he towered above you. The dark patch from your core caught his attention, hitching his breath. He looked different from his normal self. Hungry. Possessive. Almost like a demon had taken over. An incubus of a man before you.

“I had a life before the church, Angel,” Was all he avowed before kneeling down to worship you. Sliding his fingers under the waistband, he grabbed the edge of your panties with his teeth, and slowly… pulled… them… off. The act made you arch your back and let out a gasp; It was singlehandedly the most toe-curling thing you had ever witnessed. He trailed kisses along your leg, starting at your ankle and moving up. Feathery kisses on your calf. Light ones at your knee. Nibbling on your thigh, and ending up between them, where you needed him most. Your breath had become ragged, matching his. He shuddered when he looked at your core, pulsating around nothing.

“Oh fuck… look at how wet you are for me,” He whimpered, gathering your arousal on his fingers, and showing it to you. You moaned at the sensation of him touching your folds. He sinfully grinned at your reaction before latching on to you with his mouth, swiping his tongue along you salaciously. It ignited a fire with you. Each lick felt like a pleasure you had never experienced before. You were more turned on than you had ever been in your entire life and it was all because of him. His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire in the best way.

“Please— I,” Moaning out, unable to express how he made you feel. You could feel a familiar coil building within you, his ministrations against you were heavenly, “Yun, that feels so good.”

He slipped in one long finger, curving it up, immediately finding your g-spot. He was so fucking good at this. It shocked you. A celibate man who still had all this expert knowledge years later. God, what couldn’t he do? The spring inside you was close to snapping, and he grinned against you, “You gonna cum, Angel?”

“Y-Yes I’m gonna—” He pulled away from you, leaving you right on the edge of bliss. Release escaped you and you cried out, “No, no…Please, Yunho, please.”

You grabbed him gently, but franticly, by his hair, trying to put him back. He just chuckled, the vibrations of his voice buzzed through you, “What’s the rush baby? You’ve waited a long time for this. I’d like to make it last.”

He crawled up to you so that your faces were parallel once again. Kissing you softly, you could taste yourself on him, which made you shiver. Arching your back, he took the opportunity to take off your bra swiftly. He looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, breathing you in, and then commanding, “Take them off.”

So you did. Unbuttoning his pants quickly so that he was free of them. You might just convert to Catholicism after this because you don’t know what you did to deserve that. He was perfect and painfully hard; there was precum already leaking from his pretty red tip. Experimentally, you reached out and wrapped your hand around him, and the sound that he let out… was pathetic. He screwed his eyes shut and whimpered into the crook of your neck, “FucK-uh! Angel… not yet. Please.”

He hadn’t been touched in so long that he was afraid he would burst at the slightest stroke from you. It made you feel unbelievably powerful, so, teasingly, you did it again and he grabbed your wrist, “Behave. Don’t make me say that again.”

“Or what, Father?” You purred into his ear.

“Or I’m going to have to make you repent, Angel,” He glared at you lustfully. It shot a thrill through your entire being, “I’d chose your next words carefully…”

You stayed silent, not out of obedience, but because you didn’t know what to come back with. When you first met him you never would’ve expected him to be like this, but you weren’t going to complain. He grinned, thinking that you had learned your lesson, “Good girl.”

You could’ve come right then. Good girl? It’s like he was trying to kill you. You loved hearing him praise you and he caught onto it quickly. He trailed his fingers lightly up and down your inner thighs as he kissed along your jaw, it made you shudder.

“You’re going to keep being good for me now, okay?” He sighed, breath quivering. You nodded numbly, enjoying this unseen side of him.

“Yunho, please…” You begged him to do something, anything.

“Of course Angel, you’ve been so patient,” He kissed your forehead before he rubbed his fingers against your folds, teasing around your opening. You gasped when he pressed two digits in, all the way to the knuckle, he hissed, “Fuck… you’re so tight, baby. I’m going to have to stretch you out first.” 

He began to move them, curling into your sweet spot again, pumping in and out while his thumb found your clit; he could already feel your walls loosening around him. As he worked you down there, his lips attached to one of your nipples. It made you cry out. He licked and tugged at the swollen bud before moving to the other one, repeating his actions. The coil in your abdomen wound up quickly and you knew that he wouldn’t have to go much longer. Grasping at his back you took a second to look at him, his face was flushed, and his lips were red from kisses. He was so beautiful it made your heart hurt. Lazily he rubbed circles along your clit as he continued his movements, “Can you cum for me, Angel?”

His words sent you spiraling into ecstasy, your walls trembling around his fingers as he skillfully guided you through your orgasm. Waves of pure pleasure crashed over you, and for a fleeting moment, you could have sworn you glimpsed heaven itself. You took a moment, trembling and breathing heavily, to gather yourself. It was undeniably one of the best orgasms you had ever experienced. When you finally opened your eyes, he was positioned at your entrance, condom already on. His eyes found yours, like a prayer for your consent, to which you nodded in reply. He rubbed slowly along your folds, gathering slick before he steadily began to enter you. He was stretching you out way more than his fingers did, but it wasn't painful; you gasped as he finally bottomed out, “You take me so well, Angel. Are you alright?”

You nodded your head lazily, “More than alright, Yun.”

He kissed you, so lovingly, so sweetly, it made you blush. Every movement of his lips against yours was infused with a depth of emotion, while his hands lovingly caressed your face, his thumb softly brushing against your cheek. He obviously couldn’t say how he felt, but you knew. You knew unmistakably in that kiss. It brought tears to your eyes and, of course, he knew why they were there. You two just understood each other so well. He was inside you, and yet that was the most sacred, intimate thing he could have done. He delicately kissed away the tears on your face until they vanished, and then, tentatively he began to move.

Starting slow, he gently pulled out a bit at a time, allowing you to fully adjust to the movement. When he sensed that you were ready for more, the pace quickened. You clung to his back, as he withdrew to the tip and then thrust back into you. It was as if he was perfectly made for you, with every thrust meeting that sweet spot inside you over and over again. The heat in your core began to intensify, each whimper and moan from him sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, “FUck-ah! Mmm Angel, fuck you feel s-so good.”

“F-Father…” You tightened around him with each thrust, the room alive with the sounds of squelching and skin meeting skin, intertwined with the breathless whimpers from both of you. It left you feeling delightfully dizzy. He pressed his face into your neck, teasing, and nipping along it, leaving behind little marks that would greet him in the morning light, “God… Yunho, Please, more please.”

He was ramming into you at an ungodly pace with an intensity that felt almost divine, the coil inside you teetering on the brink of snapping once more. Attacking your neck with fervent nips and tantalizing licks that sent waves of pleasure humming through you. His movements began to grow frantic, his rhythm wavering as he neared the edge with you. Your second orgasm surged through you unexpectedly, his clumsy thrusts elongating the pleasure to new lengths. With a few erratic movements, he tensed in your embrace, a chorus of moans, whimpers, and whispered curses escaping his lips as he reached his peak. He relaxed in your arms, letting his full weight rest on you as you both came down from your highs, feeling the rhythm of each other’s heavy breaths intertwining in the stillness.

“I can’t believe you did that, Father,” You whispered, in a post-high clarity.

He chuckled against you, resting his chin on your chest, smiling as he looked up at you, “Yeah… me either.”

He tenderly kissed your cheek before pulling out and disposing of the condom. With a gentle smile, he got up and went to your bathroom, returning with a warm, wet rag to clean both you and himself with. After he was done he grinned, “Go use the bathroom, Angel, and then come back here, okay?”

You came back out from the bathroom wearing a comfy T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear, and he was waiting on your bed, with his boxers back on. He looked absolutely adorable with his tousled hair and those sleepy, drowsy eyes. He pulled you back onto the bed, nestling close to you, awaiting blissful sleep to lull over you both.

His hair softly ticked you awake. He was wrapped around you like he had used you as a body pillow at some point during the night. You hadn’t slept that great in a while. Your stirring had woken him up. He inhaled deeply, holding you tightly for a moment before releasing you. A radiant smile lit up his face, and you could see the gears behind his eyes whirring with life.

“What are you thinking about?” You titled your head to capture his attention.

He just grinned at you, “I just… I don’t know what this feeling is.”

“Is it God or is it me?” You playfully joked.

“I don’t know,” The smile on his face wavering slightly, taking your question seriously into consideration. It made your heart drop a bit.

Your feet ached from a long, exhausting day at work. You were glad to finally be on your way home. Looking up at the bus stop schedule you saw that yours was about twenty minutes away.

Great…

You heard a sharp inhale next to you and a small chuckle, “Might be quicker if you walked, Angel.”

Yunho was sitting next to you at the bus stop, once again.

“Long time no see stranger,” You smirked.

He smiled at you warmly, but there was a look in his eyes that squashed your joking mood. He just dryly laughed and stared into your eyes for a good while. Those loving brown orbs of his were full of sincerity and anguish. You nodded slowly, a suffocating ache in your chest made itself present.

“It’s God… isn’t it?” You choked, the lump in your throat had become overwhelming.

“Yeah…” He sighed, taking hold of one of your hands in his.

You just let out a small laugh and smiled, tears welling into your eyes, making it hard to see him, “You know, the worst thing is that I fucking love you. I- I love you.”

“Angel—”

“No, no. Let’s not. Let’s just leave that out there for a moment okay?” You interrupted, the tears breaking free from your eyes to roll down your red cheeks, “I love you.”

He squeezed your hand, a warmth that provided little comfort to you now, before he whispered, “It’ll pass”

You bit at your lip, trying to prevent yourself from having a breakdown at the bus stop. So you plastered on a fake smile, choked back your tears, and nodded. You stayed like that, with your hand in his, for what felt like a fucking eternity, until he got up.

As he began to walk away he paused, turning to you one last time, confirming what you already knew, “I love you too.”

Fucking hell...

And then he was gone. Your bus was there, magically, and he was gone. Perhaps in another life, he wouldn't be. But this was the one you had.

a/n: This is my first time writing smut and posting it somewhere. So I am very open to feedback and constructive criticism. If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it lets me know that I should continue writing <3

Masterlist

[cho-aaacho]

(HC's) JJK men's reactions when they see you in a pink dress.

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi.

Gojo Satoru

He was blushing so hard, but he didn't say anything at first. He just stared behind his sunglasses. 

But he is thinking about wrapping his arm around you, savoring your cuteness, kissing your warmth, and adorning your kindness until he succumbs to intoxication.

A swarm of butterflies fluttered in his stomach, he couldn't count how many times he repeated the words "cute", "pretty"

Of course, he only says this in his mind. He didn't want you to hear how much he loved your body in a pink dress.

Immersing himself in prolonged gazes at you, he occasionally sweeps you into a wave of overwhelming feelings.

Quite the adept liar, especially for someone like him, consistently denying his admiration for you.

"I guess that makes me feel like I have been caught off guard in this situation. But, you are so damn cute. So adorable."

Your response? "I had no idea you were so shy. I just thought you were a very talkative person at first. I guess I was wrong, weren't I, Satoru-kun?"

Geto Suguru

Showering you with the most endearing words, and it almost makes you melt. 

Oh... this guy knows how to make you happy, make you feel flustered all of the time, and make you fall for him. With the simple words "You're so pretty."

Your smile takes on a life of its own when your gaze intertwines with his. Gazing at his eyes or stealing a glance at him.

Oh... he's so gentle, of course.

"Thank you, Suguru-kun, for this dress."

With a gentle pat on your head, he whispers, "My angel, I don't mind it. You're welcome."

Sealing a gentle yet passionate kiss on your lips, saying that you are his entire world.

"How about a waltz before we eat our dinner? I'm sure the twins wouldn't mind."

Nanami Kento

"You know, you're always cute in everything, but you're cuter when you're wearing my favorite colors."

However, truth be told, he doesn't actually have a favorite color. He just wants to share his love and life with you.

Planting a kiss on your shoulder as you don that pink dress, while whispering gently, "You wore this just for me, didn't you? Not trying to seduce some random guys?"

His sweetness, almost overwhelming, leaves you nearly speechless every time he savors the fragrance of your hair.

All his attention is solely directed at you, momentarily disregarding his responsibilities.

"Hush... Hush... Just ignore Gojo-san. Tonight, it's just you and me."

He snaps a photo of you in that dress and proudly shows it to Ino.

Fushiguro Megumi

Concealing you from Yuuji's sight so he can't catch a glimpse of you in that pink dress. Oh boy, his jealousy is surfacing.

Much like Gojo, he can't help but blush, trying not to steal glances at you. Because, oh God, it's so embarrassing for him. He can't hold himself.

His heart pounds so hard, making him struggle to breathe as he witnesses you reveal so much skin than he's accustomed to; it is almost unbearable for him.

He tries to talk and act normal, but every time he tries, he always ends up nervous.

"Can I hold your hands for a second? Just make sure you're... okay."

"Oh, it's dangerous outside. I don't want you to be in harm's way. I'll walk you home."

"But how about we snap a photo before we leave? This place is a good spot... and you look beautiful tonight. I never imagined I'd meet someone as stunning as you." Such a cute baby boy!

He thanked himself that he hadn't met Yuuji or Todo. He only wants to keep you for his and his alone.

[percyluvr]

luke castellan x child of ares!reader summary: luke sneaks into your cabin because he can't sleep without knowing that the two of you will be okay wc: 502

The sun was beating down on your back, intensifying the rage coursing through your body. You had spotted your boyfriend of 2 years, Luke Castellan, being mindlessly flirted with by some random all day, and he wasn't doing anything about it.

And while he wasn't flirting back, you found it just as bad. You knew it was stupid and you knew he technically wasn't doing anything wrong, but you couldn't help but be angry, it was just in your dna. Well, not technically in your DNA since the parent that you would've gotten the DNA from is a God, but the point still stands.

He had spotted you, shouting your name and telling you to wait up for him to accompany you to lunch, but you just sped up and ignored him.

The heat, as well as what you had just witnessed were both contributing to your building headache, which just pissed you off even more than you already were. Clearly, seeing your boyfriend basically cheat on you plus the disgusting sweltering heat were not a good combination for your already bad anger issues.

"Baby, wait up please! tell me what's wrong," Luke said worriedly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Gee, Castellan, did you do something wrong? I couldn't imagine what the problem could be, oh wait, I can! Do you get off on humiliating me or something?" You ranted and stormed off, not wanting to hear another word from his mouth because if you did, you would probably punch his disgustingly handsome face, or his beauty would completely dismiss all of your anger and you would immediately forgive him, which you did not want to do.

"Hey, hey, princess, what did I do?"

"Oh for god's sake, don't act dumb. I'm done with your shit. Leave me alone from now on."

But he clearly could not take that as an answer, because later that night, when you were laying in bed trying not to cry, you heard a soft knock on the window and just knew that it was him. How could you stay mad at him when he was so damn sweet?

You begrudgingly open the window, finding his striking eyes and soft raven curls to be even more beautiful with the moonlight cascading around his features, making his cheekbones even more pronounced and sharpening his jaw even more so.

"Are we.. okay? I just want you to know that I was not flirting with that girl earlier, if that's what you're mad about. I'm really sorry that you even thought that, I would never do anything to purposefully hurt you, you know that, right?" He was rambling now, worried that he would lose you.

"Yes, Luke, we're okay. I know you didn't flirt with her, I was just mad and I don't really know why. I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of basically the whole camp and getting mad over nothing."

He smiled, making your heart flutter. He gave you a kiss and you both talked quietly into the night until you fell asleep in each other's arms, which was sure to be a surprise to your siblings when they woke up in the morning.

[thepenguinweeb]

`` [Y/N], I admire you. Deeply.``

[ ♡ Chuuya x reader ]

[ ♡ Chuuya finds himself falling for his best friend, who also happens to be his best drinking buddy. But how does one confess when the only times you meet are at a bar? ]

Chuuya sat at his usual table, painfully bored. He kept fiddling with his fingers and occasionally taking sips of his alcohol, but it didn't help the fact he had nothing to do.

He'd come to this particular bar often. The drinks were good, and the company was pleasant enough. Not that he came for that, anyway.

A light tap on his shoulder.

"[Y/N]."

He recognized you immediately.

As he turned to look at you, he had to hold back a gasp. You always looked good, but tonight, especially.. he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

"It's nice to see you," he said quickly, trying to distract himself so his interest wouldn't be so obvious. "You, uh.. you look nice."

You smiled at him and let out a small chuckle before taking a seat at the table aswell.As the bartender passed you by, you told them, "I'll have the usual, please."

Silence fell over the two of you. Chuuya was looking down at his drink, cursing himself internally.

Due to a dumb bet with Dazai, he promised he'd confess to you the next time you met.

He still remembered the smirk on his damn face.

"Oh, you've got a crush now? I can't believe it! My little Chuuya has finally grown up! ...Oh, nevermind."

"..I swear to fuckin' god I'll kill you next time you make a joke about my hei-"

"Finee.. oh! If you confess to them the next time you see them, no more shortie jokes."

"...Bet."

But he hadn't expected it to be this soon! He still needed to prepare-!

"Something wrong, Chuuya?" You spoke up first. "You're awfully quiet tonight."

The short ginger sighed and ran a hand trough his hair. "Well, I guess we should talk."

Before you had the time to question him, he posed one first. "[Y/N], how long have we known each other for?"

"Hm.. I'm not sure. 3 years, maybe. Why?"

"It's just, uh.." he turned his head and hoped it was dark enough for you to not notice his blush.

Eventually, he sighed and got to it.

"[Y/N], I admire you. Deeply. You're the first person to make me feel like this. You don't turn away because I'm.. well, me. I like that about you." He paused and looked back at you. He was determined now. "Do you get what I'm trying to tell you?"

He felt like his heart would stop at any moment. As your silence went on longer, he felt so bad. Maybe he ruined this whole thing, and all because of Dazai, too-

"Of course I get it," you told him in a soft voice. He seemed to freeze in place the moment you spoke. "I feel the same way about you."

Now, it was his turn to be shocked into speechlessness. It took him some time to compose himself and finally give you a smile and a nod.

"Thank you.. thank you, so much."

A/N: Chuuya time!! Love this man. He's a sweetie actually (pretend he never committed all the murders). Anywayy hope you enjoyed! :D

Dividers by: @/rookthornesartistry, ty!!

[whisper-in-the-night]

Undesirable

Plot: Thomas is omega who will never find his true mate. Or no?

Warnings: omegavers; deviation from the canon; omega!Thomas Hewitt, alpha!male!reader / Y/N, mention of murdering, blood

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Part 5 || Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

"Here, Y/N, your coffee," Kayla said with a slight smile, handing you a gray mug with a hot drink. You looked up at her, eyebrows slightly raised, and nodded. Leaning on the back of the chair, you took the cup from her hands, immediately sipping a few small sips. The bitterness of the coffee instantly burned the delicate throat, spreading a pleasant warmth in the stomach.

"You seem tense. I've never seen you drink coffee without sugar," the girl frowned, sipping tea from her own mug, "Is something wrong?"

“No. Just thinking."

She sighed. You've always been the soul of the company and the best friend of the team, but today you looked.. tired? Scared? Kayla didn't know. But she knew that this was not her usual friend, whom she liked to make fun of. Although, perhaps you have problems with your family again? Who knows.

Deciding to change the subject, the girl pulled her chair closer to your desk. Brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear, she took another sip of tea.

"This new intern's gonna drive me crazy! Maybe you'll talk to her yourself, won't you make me work? I'm actually a girl," she said resentfully, looking around, "And those perfumes. Is she really gonna get your attention with that shit? It's hard to be in the same room with her! How did she get here? I can't imagine.. hey, are you even listening to me?"

Kayla frowned, looking at your impassive face, her gaze directed somewhere towards the window. The girl really didn't like it when her words were just ignored, especially when it was her best friend.

"My god, Y/N!" She grabbed your shoulder and shooked you, bringing you to your senses, "Oh my god, what's wrong with ya today, huh? Maybe have you been drinking all night again because of your feeling of loneliness?!"

"It's just.." You sighed. Gently taking her hand in yours, you removed it from your shoulder, "It's difficult. I dunno how to explain it."

"What do ya mean how? With words! What's your mouth for, huh?"

“Yeah.. It's just that last night I kind of had a argument with someone. Accidentally." You started, but Kayla immediately interrupted you.

"Of course you quarreled, you don't know how to keep your rude tongue between your teeth!" She took a sip of tea. You grinned, looking down at your half-empty mug.

"No, it's not... I didn't say anything actually. Simply.. left. In the middle of the night. I just didn't know how to react. Those people were.. strange. In a good way. Although I'm not sure anymore.."

"And that's why you're crying? Well, you left and left, is there a problem? Found something to cry about, meh.."

"They seem to be dear for me.."

Kayla looked up at you questioningly. Immediately, a sly grin graced her face. She leaned closer, grabbing the collar of your shirt, "Oh, did our baby Y/N find a mate? Who is she? Is she beautiful? Our intern will be mad with jealousy."

"No, it's not my mate. He's an omega, but not mine.." The girl chuckled, "Oh, come on, it's not yours. Do you think I'm stupid and didn't smell someone else's pheromones on ya? For a whole month, those damn peaches... I can't eat them anymore!"

You smiled slightly, enjoying your friend's usual explosive behavior. She has always been a support for you, always listened to whatever was going on in your life. A good girl, she helped you adapt to this environment at work. Like a sweet, slightly annoying little sister.

"But anyway, it seems that this omega is dear to you, isn't it? I'm not blind! All those smiles of yours, frequent weekends, and so on. Y/N, it's not the case to leave them offended and run away like a coward. Talk to them! I don't think it's that bad."

"Mm... Maybe you're right.."

"I'm always right, trust me!" The girl purred smugly and winked at you.

Can you really try it?

***

"Tommy, baby. You can't skip the dinner again ," the woman said in a gentle, worried voice, lightly knocking on her youngest son's closed door. There was no response. She sighed. Fatigue and anxiety could be seen in her exhausted figure and tense shoulders.

It's been a little over a week since the night you found out about the Hewitt family's secret occupation and ran away in the night. From that moment on, Thomas was not himself. That same night, he chopped the unfortunate victim from the basement into small pieces, not caring about the pain caused. He slaughtered him like the last pig. His breathing was labored and his whole body was tense. Something inside him broke painfully when you left. Why did you leave? Why did you leave him? His skin and clothes were covered in blood, and his hair was matted with sweat, and his heart was beating wildly in his strong chest. But it hurt. It hurts a lot.

"Baby, I'm coming in," Luda said, pulling the door handle and entering the room. The air in the room was musty, the curtains were closed, so neither the sun nor fresh air penetrated inside. Thomas was curled up on the bed on top of a lot of clothes. Ragged sobs came from him. The mother's heart sank at the sight of her child. She went inside and put the dinner plate on the desk.

"Baby.." the response was a growl of displeasure. Luda sighed, realizing that she needed to give the boy a little more time, and reluctantly left his room, opening the window before that.

Thomas was lying on a pile of clothes, your clothes, and desperately clutching the fabric in his hands. Your scent was almost gone, and it made him whine plaintively. You liked him, didn't you? He was your omega, wasn't he? Then why did you leave? Why did you leave him? It's lonely. Sadly. Painfully. He was in pain. The scent glands on his neck throbbed violently, causing nausea in his body due to the onset of heat. Usually you were with him at such moments, your pheromones calmed him down. But not now. Now his body was in that unpleasant painful state again, just like before. He missed you. So much. But you probably didn't like him anymore. You've probably already found a better, stronger, more beautiful omega.

Your smile, your beautiful eyes and soft hair. Your pleasant smell. Your sweet words of comfort when he felt insecure and bad. Your gentle touch, as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Your affectionate nicknames.

Why did you take it all away from him?

Perhaps it would be better this way. He doesn't need to hide his secret from you anymore. Then why does it hurt so much?

***

The wide gray road, surrounded by dead wood and yellow grass, seemed endless. There's not a soul for miles around. You were clutching the steering wheel rim a little nervously, glancing in the rearview mirror with the hope that there were no unwanted guests behind you.

It was already about 6 pm, so probably everyone had been resting for a long time.

You knocked gently on the door and took an unconscious step back, burning the door with your gaze. Your head was full of thousands of thoughts, good and bad, options for the outcome of events and just some gibberish that makes your temples throb. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous. Although outwardly it was hardly possible to say this, given your firm gaze and calm, albeit a little tense, aura and body language.

Finally, the door opened with a slight creak. The gray-haired man's face darkened, and his eyebrows drew together.

"Damn it, why are you here again? Wasn't it enough for you?" Hoyt spoke in a rough, loud voice, taking a firm step towards you. Now he was dressed in a simple shirt and house trousers, the lack of a sheriff's uniform made him strangely more friendly and pleasant to the eye, "Get out of my sight, you cheesy boy!"

Hoyt snapped and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, which from the outside could look very funny, considering that he was slightly shorter than you. Still, it didn't take away his menacing appearance.

Voices and hurried footsteps could be heard from inside the house. Soon the door opened wider and Luda's worried face appeared in the doorway.

"Mama.." you muttered in a low voice, looking at her face. You gently pushed Hoyt away from you, coming closer, and handed the woman one of the bouquets of flowers that you had been holding in your hands all this time. White lilies. A tired smile graced Luda's soft face as she shifted her gaze from you to the flowers and back again. "Mama, I'm really sorr-"

"You sorry? You bastard.." Hoyt interrupted you, grabbing your shirt tighter and dragging you down from the doorway to your car. "I'll shoot you in the head," the man swore, already raising his fist to your jaw, but was stopped in time by Luda's firm voice, "Charlie, leave the boy alone. It's not his fault."

"But mama..."

"Charlie."

The man tsked, spitting on the ground, but let go of your shirt, going back into the house. Luda gave you a brief nod in the direction of the house and also returned inside. You smiled slightly and gently climbed into the house, carefully slamming the door behind you. The house greeted you with the usual silence, enclosing you in its soothing embrace. You followed Luda into the kitchen, who was already pouring fruit tea into two mugs. Obviously, she understood that you had a lot to talk about.

"Thank you," you said with a slight smile, sitting down on a chair and picking up a cup of tea.

"We expected you to come with sheriff," the woman said, her blond eyebrows slightly drawn together.

"I.. I don't deny that I wanted to do it," you began, clutching a porcelain cup in your hands, "But then I thought that you wouldn't do it without a special reason. No, of course I don't support it, but I don't condemn you either. To be honest, I just accepted it as a fact. As long as you don't hurt me..." After saying the last words, you slowly looked up at Luda, her face was decorated with a tired smile.

"We would never hurt you, Y/N. You are a member of the family."

The woman's words caused a pleasant warmth in your chest, which made your lips lift in a slight smile. You took another sip of tea, feeling the hot liquid warming your whole soul.

"But how.. Tommy?"

Luda sighed, "Since the day you left, he hasn't left your room."

Your room?

"Can I...?"

In response, Luda only nodded briefly. You putted the cup on the table, spilling some copper liquid on the light tablecloth. You grabbed a bouquet of vervain that had been placed on the chest of drawers at the entrance and carefully went to the second floor. It was quiet all around, which was eerily accelerating your already wildly beating heart. You went to your bedroom door and knocked softly. There was no response. Your fingers automatically rested on the door handle and turned it. There was a musty air in the room, mixed with the cloying sweetness of pheromones. You walked slowly inside and closed the door behind you. Things were scattered around, although the furniture still looked clean, apparently Luda still came and wiped off the dust; Thomas was lying on your bed on a pile of your clothes left in this house. It was a kind of makeshift nest. Thomas's hair was disheveled and looked dirty, but it still soft. You putted the bouquet on the bedside table, lowering your knee onto the soft mattress, then the other one. And now you're lying behind Thomas, listening to his quiet breathing. He must have been asleep. Your arm gently wraps around his waist, pulling him closer to you, and you see how the man's big body shudders. He lies there for a couple of moments, just staring in front of him, his heart beating faster. He turns in your arms, now looking up into your eyes. He wasn't wearing a mask. His big sleepy eyes were swollen, as if he had cried a lot, and his face was covered with scars, some with freshly dried blood. Your heart ached that you made your boy feel this way. You took your hand away from his waist and gently touched his cheek, caressing the roughened skin with your thumb. Thomas made a small sound, but leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He didn't seem to believe you. Those warm eyes looked at you with resentment and pain, and it made you want to cry yourself, but he couldn't do anything with his body, which craved your touch. He missed you so much. You leaned forward, gently covering his lips with yours, trying to give him that feeling of security and care again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm really sorry, I didn't want it to happen like this," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his, "I'm here, see? I won't leave again, I promise. I'm here with you."

***

It took some time before Thomas was able to fully trust you again. You started living with the Hewitt family again and helping them, sometimes you even participated in the capture of victims. Usually these poor things quickly trusted you and sought protection, although in the end they still met your lover with a chainsaw. It has become a habitual course of life. Tommy became more clingy, he had nightmares whenever you slept in separate rooms, so after a while you began to live in the same room with a large bed. It made life much easier for him and for you. Now your clothes were always close near if he needed to feel safe when you were not at home or his inner omega was preparing for heat and making a nest. You slept in an embrace, where Tommy was usually a little spoon, which he really liked. When you got used to living together, played an impromptu wedding, where Thomas's close relatives were. You managed to mark him on the same day, so now you were connected by something more than just marriage. Surprisingly, you quickly got used to this kind of life. You were usually the most attentive and clear-minded person in this family, you made sure that no victim escaped, so that your family remained safe. Your family. Perhaps these are really the people who have become your dearest family.