#the burger itself looks good too
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Ya I know what, university adds a plethora of new experiences. Today it added the experience of cooking a burger in a tiny rice cooker
#I wish I was kidding#this rice cooker serves rice for one person#this mf is SIZZLING#but no alarms gettin set off#the burger itself looks good too#v happy#peep talks
1 note
·
View note
Text
**Full of Love**
You’re sprawled comfortably on the couch, your favorite blanket draped over your legs. The TV hums softly in the background, but your focus is on the snacks scattered across the coffee table in front of you. Your large, heavy belly rests out in the open, free from the constraints of your clothes. It feels good to relax like this, letting your belly spread and settle against your lap, feeling its warmth and softness. You pop another chip into your mouth, savoring the salty crunch as you absentmindedly rub your belly with one hand. The gentle motion is soothing, and you can’t help but smile at the sensation of fullness that’s already starting to build.
Just then, you hear the familiar jingle of keys at the door, and your heart skips a beat. Your partner is home. You turn your head and watch as they walk in, arms laden with bags from your favorite takeout places. The smell of fried foods and sweet treats fills the room, making your mouth water. They catch your eye and grin, their face lighting up with that playful, adoring look that makes your heart flutter.
“Looks like someone’s been having a nice, lazy day,” they tease gently, glancing at the empty snack bags around you.
You chuckle, patting your belly. “Just a little snack before you got home,” you say with a wink.
“Well, I’ve got a lot more here for you,” they reply, setting the bags down on the coffee table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
You nod eagerly, your belly rumbling softly in anticipation. Your partner settles beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of their body against yours. They begin to unpack the bags, revealing an assortment of your favorite foods: greasy cheeseburgers, crispy fries, sugary pastries, and more. The sight alone makes your stomach growl louder.
Without a word, they pick up a burger and hold it up to your lips. You open your mouth, letting them feed you the first bite. The flavors burst across your tongue, savory and delicious. As you chew, they reach out with their free hand and gently caress your belly. Their touch is soft and warm, sending shivers of pleasure through your skin. You swallow and take another bite, leaning back into the cushions, feeling completely at ease.
Bite after bite, they feed you, their fingers brushing against your lips, their other hand never leaving your growing belly. You can feel it expanding with each mouthful, pressing heavier against your lap, stretching your skin tight. The sensation of fullness builds slowly, a pleasant, comforting weight that anchors you to the couch. Your partner’s hand moves in slow, lazy circles, rubbing and massaging, making you feel warm and loved.
As you finish one burger and move on to the fries, you find yourself leaning into their touch more, craving that soothing contact as much as the food itself. Your partner notices and smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek.
“You’re doing so well,” they murmur, their voice low and affectionate. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”
You nod, too content to speak, closing your eyes as you chew. They continue to feed you, alternating between bites of food and gentle sips of a creamy milkshake. The feeling of fullness becomes more intense, your belly rounding out, heavy and taut. Your breathing deepens as the weight of it presses against your lungs, making you feel deliciously stuffed.
Eventually, the bags are empty, and you’ve eaten everything. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling more full than you ever have before. Your belly is massive, resting heavily against your thighs, so tight and round that you can hardly believe it’s yours. Your partner’s hand never stops its gentle caress, soothing and comforting as you bask in the sensation of being so completely full.
“You’re amazing,” they whisper, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Look how big and beautiful you are.”
You smile, feeling a flush of warmth spread through your cheeks. You try to move, but your belly is so heavy that you can’t manage more than a wiggle. Your partner chuckles and pulls you closer, wrapping their arms around you, careful not to press too hard against your overstuffed stomach.
“Don’t worry,” they say, their voice soft and loving. “I’ll take care of everything. You just relax and enjoy how full you are.”
You sigh, letting yourself sink into their embrace, feeling completely safe and content. With their hands still rubbing your belly, you close your eyes, a smile on your lips, and drift off into a blissful, food-induced nap.
#getting fatter#fat belly#fat#fat piggy#weight gain#obese#fat kink#gaining weight#belly#growing belly#immobile#i want to be immobile#immobile feedee#immobile ssbbw#immobility#obese piggy#obese feedee#obese belly#extremely obese#need to be fatter#get me fatter#fatty piggy#fattening up#make me fatter#stuffed fatty#help me get fatter#ssbbwmodel#ssbbw belly#ssbbwfat#ssbbw feedee
413 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm becoming that person
You know the kind. The ones that casually start a tumblr just to like and reblog stuff about gaining. Yeah, I like the belly I've noticed on myself too - but I'm not like these obvious feedees. I have self control. I know how to say no to an extra snack. To stop eating after 8pm. My clothes are tight right now - if I let myself go I'm going to need to buy the next size up in both shirt and pants. So yeah. I got this under control. I have to.
I'm becoming that person. Yeah, I just ate dinner, but I need my dessert right away. A cookie now. Some gummies later. Then a cup of cereal. And 3-4 scoops of peanut butter just before bed. Look, the gaining thing is hot. I've been having fun just feeling good about my fat. Feeling turned on by my fat. Besides, winter is coming. I joke to people that it's 'fat boy fall'. We all gotta store up, right?
I'm becoming that person.
I can't get off unless I'm envisioning myself getting fatter. Sometimes it's a montage over the next year, imagining my soft body through various stages. Various pants sizes. Popped buttons. God, I want to burst out of my clothes with fat. Other times, I imagine a magic force making me gain all at once. I think of overflowing my clothing. When I bend over these days, my love handle stick out. Sometimes I stand up and my shirt goes with me, exposing a sliver of my widening belly. But I can't let it get that far. I buy a funnel from the store down the street. Just for the thrill. I'm not going to use it.
I'm becoming a fat person.
I stare at myself in the mirror and tell myself I don't look that big. I still fit in the same shirts I did a year ago. Well... "fit". They are tighter. The waistband of my jeans rolls over on itself, straining to keep in my widening girth. Girth. People would use that word when thinking about me. I stare at the XL undershirts and size 42 jeans in my online shopping cart. I close out the window. That can't be me. I can't let that be me. Besides... I like how tight my current jeans feel. When I burst the button, then I'll have earned those new jeans.
I am a fat person.
A breakfast bar (200 calories) and a cinnamon roll (400 calories) for breakfast. Pizza (800~ calories) for lunch. Burger and fries (1200 calories) for dinner. Then a constant graze of deserts that I don't keep track of. 2-4 spoonfuls of peanut butter? Wait how many did I have? I was just eating it without thinking. My shirt slides up over my belly as lie down in bed and cum myself to sleep.
#feeding kink#feedee encouragement#gaining weight on purpose#feedee feeder#fat belly#feedee belly#fat piggy#ftm feedee#queer feedee#belly gainer#trans feedee
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dead on Main part 6
Masterpost
This town is weird. Jason knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, considering Gotham and his own attachment to it. But this place is like a nightmare, stuck in time backwards-ness intermingled between the people and the place itself. It reminds him of Fawcett, which is not a good thing. He feels judged just walking down the street.
The head into a diner looking restaurant, fast food by the looks of it, that is in fact named Nasty Burger. Jason knows he shouldn’t judge. He’s doing it anyway.
There’s a girl behind the counter who seems to be glaring at Jason. Or Danny, but since he’s Jason right now, he decides he doesn’t need to deal with whatever her issue is. With little faith, Jason tells Jazz to order for him and goes to sit in a booth.
The couple in the booth next to him watch him as he heads to his booth and gape at him as he sits down.
“Danny, come on.” The guy whines, he and the girl both stand and come over to sit across from him. “What was that? Don’t want to sit with us?”
Jason tenses. “Uh.”
“Hey guys!” Jazz says, coming to sit next to Jason. She places a tray with a burger, fries, and a soft drink in front of him and he eyes it warily. “This is Jason.”
They two across from them get these stupid dumbfounded looks. The girl behind the counter is listening to their conversation.
“Jason, these are Danny’s friends, Sam and Tucker.” Jazz motions to the girl and then the boy.
“Nice to meet you.” Jason inclines his head at them, and decides to try a fry.
“Is he…” Sam stops herself. “Does he know about Danny?”
“Not much, but they haven’t officially met yet, obviously.” Jazz is eating her food like it’s normal, so Jason follows her lead on the burger as well. “Danny should be here sometime tomorrow.”
“Where is Danny now?” Tucker asks, concerned.
“With my family.” Sam and Tucker look at him strangely. He can tell they’re concerned for their friend though. “He’s being driven back now, they’re rotating drivers so they don’t have to stop for the night. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”
“Danny will be fine until he gets back.” Jazz comforts them. “Danny was more concerned about Jason, considering the food at our house.”
Sam and Tucker tense in response. “Right. I’d be worried about that too. Might want to stay at the house after this anyway.” Sam says lightly. Jason can tell he’s being talked around. Can hear them talking about something they don’t want him to know under the guise of their conversation, but he doesn’t know enough to make sense of it.
“Let us know if anything comes up of course, but Danny won’t be able to hang out for a while.” Jazz smiles at them, but her eyes are concerned.
“Sure thing.” Tucker says.
“If you guys want to have a chat where you can actually talk to each other, I can leave you along for a bit.” Jason tells them all.
“No!” Tucker says quickly. They don't seem like they care that he caught on, there's no shame to be excluding him. They all just seem worried about something. “Best you stay with Jazz.” He turns back to her. “The GIW tools were deactivated. The whole fiasco yesterday was a lot for everyone. But they should be up and running again by tomorrow.”
Jazz nods at them and Sam and Tucker leave, whisper-arguing to each other as they go.
They eat quietly for a minute, but Jazz stiffens as she looks at something out the window.
Jason follows her gaze to see her tracking a man outside. He’s pretty smarmy looking. Long grey hair, in a full suit, seems like more Brucie’s crowd than someone who would be in a place called Nasty Burger. But he’s spotted them through the window and does seem to be on his way in. ““Hey Jason, would it be cool if you went to the bathroom for a second? Nevermind, there’s no time, follow my lead.”
The man walks right up to their booth.
“Daniel, Jasmine, lovely to see you both.”
“Vlad, can we help you?” Jazz asks politely, Jason just glares at them man.
“You know I always love to see you, but I would like to speak with Daniel for a moment.”
“Unfortunately, Danny and I have places to be, Vlad. I’m sure my parents would love to speak with you though. Dad has been meaning to stop by.” Jazz gathers the trash and remnants of their meal and stands, going to throw them away. Jason gets up to follow her, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He feels a tickle in his throat and his next breath comes out cold and foggy, visible in the air.
“Daniel, don’t you want to have a talk?” The hand on his shoulder is forceful.
“Don’t touch me.” Jason turns himself out of his grasp, backing away towards the door. Jazz pulls him quickly back onto the street towards home.
“Who the hell was that guy?”
“Danny’s godfather, friend of our parents. They went to college together.”
They’re walking past an alley when Jason feels that tickle again, he stops as his breath comes out cold, then something rams into him, pushing him to the ground farther in the alley.
765 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's Our Paradise, and It's Our War Zone
Another Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
I wrote this as a very small collection of one-shots from my longfic (you don't need to read that to read this). I made some minor changes, but it's nothing too crazy. Also, if the Spanish is off, let me know~
Word count: 3.5K
Content Warning: 18+, Pwp, PinV, bondage, overstimulation, toy usage, he uses his webs (not just for tying things up), blindfold, cunnilingus, bad jokes :]
Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.
For the past few days, you've been self-motivating yourself to finally tell Miguel about a fantasy that's been lingering on your mind from the moment you realized you held that attraction to him. Specifically, sexual attraction.
You wanted to dangle from his webs, completely exposed and restrained, bounded by trust and that gripping lust.
You would stand in front of the mirror, reciting how you would blurt it out or ease it into a conversation; however, when the time seemed permitted, you would chicken out the last second, pretending as if it was some other ‘important’ thing, such as ‘pancakes, waffles, or French toast?’ Or, ‘did you watch that one show as a kid?’
So far, the mission has been an obvious failure. But that wasn't going to deter you from it. Far from it. Tonight was the night you would finally megaphone your burning desires and sensations to him once and for all.
When he arrived (through the window, because he doesn't believe in the key or door), things went as normal. You made some homemade burgers and pre-cooked fries, watched random episodes from some show, and played a few rounds of your karting game.
There was some chit-chatting in between, but the main topic refused to show itself on stage. Your palms were sweaty as you wiped them on your shorts for the umpteenth time in a row. You battled with how exactly you were going to say this; all that practicing you did began to clash, and it wasn't helping you one bit. You were scattered.
“Alright. Tell me what's on your mind before you blow a nerve over there, amor.”
You yelped at the sudden confrontation before nervously laughing louder than you expected. "Oh, it's nothing, Miggy. I'm just thinking about some funny jokes in my head.”
Miguel raised a brow. You weren't very vague; there was more to it, and he knew it, but he wanted to see if you could get it out with just a bit of a push from him.
“Okay then. Tell me a joke.”
“Wh-what?” You blinked, a bit stupefied.
“Tell me a joke. I want a good one. So go ahead and make me laugh.” His body was facing you fully.
You were thrown into an unwarranted spotlight. All eyes were on you. You hated that you got yourself into this.
“A… a joke.” You gulped loudly.
“Si. Give me a joke.” Miguel's authoritative tone seeped out, and it wasn't helping you at all.
A joke? That's a difficult thing to serve, especially when one is put on the spot, unless you're a professional. Witty one-liners and puns are easier, but having to come up with the starter, the execution, and the punchline is a whole process in itself.
You thought about stalling and beating around the bush.
“No stalling either.”
At this point, you believed he was a mind-reader. There was no other explanation for it.
He was intently staring into your soul with those mesmerizing eyes, as you did your best to look at everything else besides him.
“Right. So, here's my joke. It's coming up right now, right this seco-”
“You're stalling. Joke. Now.”
You felt yourself straining in more ways than one.
“Okay, uh, let's see… How do you catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.” You drummed the air, tittering, before tightening your lips together.
The air was cumbersome, and Miguel's dead gaze wasn't helping.
“That was bad. Muy mal.”
“Hey! I don't think it was that bad. You asked for a joke, and I gave one.”
“Yes, but a joke that makes me laugh.” He leaned in, entrapping your body. “That didn't even get a chuckle, corazón.”
You squirmed on the sofa, his husky breath traveling through your veins. How you disliked, but loved the easy affects he had on you.
“So tell me, what's really running through there?” He skimmed his knuckle from your forehead to your chin, your breathing picking up.
He wanted you to speak your mind. He often reminds you not to be scared to do it, especially around him. He loves listening to your thoughts and observations. And one thing he also adores hearing is your wants and needs. He's always ready to care for and respect them.
“I-I…”
“Go on. What's going on in that brain? I know for a fact that it isn't just jokes.”
He had you cornered. Figuratively and literally. That stare wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. He could do this all night if he really strived for it. He is a strong-willed man after all.
“Fine! Back when we were first getting to know each other and all, we knew each other, but we didn't have that ground of–”
“You're stalling!” He snarled out, pressing his body into yours. “To the point. Now!”
Your eyes widened at that domineering voice. You didn't even realize he could get that booming and demanding. He started to tense up when he recognized that change.
“I'm so sorry, mi corazón. I didn't mean to sound like that. I usually don't use that voice unless others refuse to listen. Wa-wait! I'm not saying you're not listening; I mean–”
“I had this fantasy of being fully tied up in your webs. A sense of trust and longing to be there.” You bumped your forehead into his, that burning passion glazing over.
Miguel's breathing became rapid. Was this what you really wanted? Or was it something that you would believe he would want? He couldn't lie that he also didn't have those lingering around his brain, but would you truly be okay with it?
“I- are you sure you want something like that?”
“Yes, this is what I want to try. This is something I want.” You were determined to do this, praying that he would accept your fiery cravings.
“Corazón, will you allow me to–”
“Yes, I will allow you to take control. To tie me in your webs.” You placed your wrists together, expressing that vulnerability. “Please, Miguel.”
Miguel nodded, knowing that no more words needed to be said. Everything was now on the table. He lowered his head until his lips were on yours. Folding your legs around his waist and your arms over his neck, Miguel picked you up, placing your body on a nearby wall.
“Mi hermosa amor, te adoraré ahora y siempre. Siempre me preguntaré cómo te conseguí.” Miguel whispered against your neck, causing you to moan and writhe.
He nibbled the crook of your neck and collarbone, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. His hands dragged down your shirt, lifting it over your head.
He brushed his claws over your hardened nipples, tweaking them before bending forward and nibbling the nubs hungrily. You blissfully sighed out, when a sudden memory popped up in Miguel's head.
“That vibrator… It's in your left bottom drawer by your bed, right?”
You froze. “You… I… How did you know about that?!” You honestly assumed you swept that in the corner, hidden away from the naked eye.
“I found it when you told me to bring that bottle of lube.” He flicked his tongue over your cleavage, leaving hickies on your chest and the valley.
“How—but you had to really peek to have—”
“You were the one who told me to put it there, baby.” His claws made their way to your shorts and tugged them down, caressing your thighs. “It rolled out when I pulled the drawer out.”
You were flustered, stuttering, when Miguel planted a kiss to quiet you down. “Do you want me to get it? I will only do it if you want me to.”
It took you exactly one second before wholeheartedly agreeing. You wanted to know how far this fantasy of yours would go, and you were excited that there was an unexpected but welcome addition.
You slid out one of your dining room chairs and sat down. Miguel held that confidence in his walk, and you knew it. Strolling back out with your purple and white magic wand and the bottle, you gave a thumbs-up.
Retaking your earlier positions, he sat the items in the chair, pressing your body back into the wall, two fingers making their way in your panties, rubbing the folds, proud of how wet you were.
“Mm, I–ah–want to be gagged and blindfolded.”
“You really want to be tethered up, don't you?” His thumb rolled over your clit as he stared for any signs of displeasure.
“I have an eye mask in the same drawer, and the fantasy includes your webs in between my teeth.”
Miguel made no hesitation; he was back with it in a blink of an eye. You could tell how roused he was by the throbbing bulge in his pajama pants, as you swore you could see some damp stains.
“If I do this, you'll need to have a way to alert me if you start feeling uncomfortable. Safewords won't exactly work.”
You closed one eye, thinking for a few seconds, when you snapped your fingers. Propping your hands over your head, you gave a thumbs-up.
“Thumbs-up means you can go; bunny ears mean slow down; and when I snap, stop.” You demonstrated each motion as Miguel nodded.
“Vale, vale, bien.” He brushed the side of your face and smiled. “You ready?”
You nodded, arms still above your head. He picked you up with ease as you examined him shooting his webs at the wall and the ceiling. Carefully sticking you to the netting, he bound you in a dragonfly shibari tie, thoroughly taking his time.
“How many times have you done this?” You eyeballed his work as much as possible.
“A few.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach. “But that's all I'm going to say.”
You hummed out at the intriguing fact that'll now be stuck in your brain.
Putting the eye mask on, he waved his claw in front of you, happy that you didn't react to it.
“Okay. Ready to be muted?”
“I'm ready to be partially subdued.” You chuckled as he joined in.
“Okay, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable.” He shot out a long string, double roping it around your mouth and part of your head. “Bite down.”
You obeyed as you tried to get used to the thick organic webbing. It was like a rope, but not. A feeling that if someone asked you to describe, you wouldn't know where to begin.
He strummed over your curves, crooning at the beauty that was secured before him. His full lips and tongue were dragging and wetting your body as you felt two unsheathed fingers hook the bands of your underwear, drawing them down until they were on the floor.
His eyes were locked on your arousal. You exhaled out contentedly, knowing that you were in safe hands. Even if you weren't in control, you still felt like the leader of this.
He dropped to his knees, eye level with your clenching heat. You awaited him, electricity coursing through your veins, desperate to know when he would have his way with you. You could only groan, not being able to move any part of your body as you spread open like a buffet exclusively for him.
“Always a delightful sight.” He nipped your inner thighs, adding suction to leave markings.
“Mine.” He trailed his tongue over your vulva, making sure to get every part.
A while escaped, your chest heaving from the sensual lick. You yearned for more as you tried, but no matter what you enunciated, only jumbled-up groans from your throat came out.
He pretended not to hear your neediness, teasing your folds with a flick here and there. He would quickly bury his head into your entrance, pumping his tongue for a couple of seconds before pulling out. He did it several times, and you weren't happy with the taunts.
“Mmm! Mm mmmph!”
“Mmm, no puedo escucharte. All I hear is murmurs, amor.”
You could envision his condescending smirk just from his voice. You growled, but stopped when you felt the familiar head on your clit.
On a low setting, Miguel settled the toy, knotting the web around your waist and hips so it could stay attached right to the fleshy bud.
“Now, you will cum when I tell you. Understand?” He slid two fingers into your core, scissoring to help with your urges.
You hastily gave the thumbs-up, and your moans in his ears made him grunt. “Muy bueno, muy, muy bueno.”
He yanked his two fingers out, causing you to panic and request that he keep going as best as you could, when he suddenly upped the power.
“Mmmm—Mmph. Mmn!”
He removed his clothes and sauntered over to the seat you left out. Cozily perching himself down, he squeezed some of the clear substance on his hands, pleasuring his throbbing cock.
You despised that you couldn't see a thing, but you loved the feeling that he was still providing, even if you didn't know what it could be. You listened to his praises, your ears picking up squishing noises. You couldn't tell if that was from you or if he was doing something to himself.
“Look at my gorgeous moon. She's doing so well, trying not to cum. You're such a good girl for following my rules.”
He stroked himself faster as he eyed your messy, trembling figure. The vibrator went wild as your legs spasmed, but with the restraints, it barely seemed as though they were moving.
He licked his lips at your dripping pussy—a nice puddle formed on your wooden floorboards. A delicious view for only him to behold.
Your muffled screams and begs were music to his ears. Your face drenched in sweat, tears, and saliva, your mind ragged, knowing that he's observing every reaction and every moment. You knew he was enjoying himself way too much.
“Let's see if we can add a bit more, corazón.”
You shook your head; your faint pleas went unheard. The fact that he already denied you to orgasm, and now he wants more? He's torturing you at this point just because he can. And you adored it.
“Mmph! Mmm!” You wriggled as you sensed him getting closer to you.
“You doing okay?” He stroked your hair, and you gave the thumbs-up to have him keep going.
“Bueno.”
You heard another buzzing sound. Did he have a second vibrator? Did you? You swore you only had one, so you had zero idea what it could be.
“Mmmm? Mmm?”
Miguel chuckled at your curiosity, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Remember, mi amor. No cumming unless I say.”
The sound was getting louder. You really wanted to see what it exactly was, so you snapped your finger, and Miguel immediately tore the silk from your mouth.
“Corazón? You okay?” He examined your face for any indication of uneasiness.
“I'm fine, Miggy. Just a bit interested if you had another vibrator.”
“No. It's my web.”
You were a bit lost. His web? But the ones around you weren't humming or anything like that, so that probed the question: what type of web was this then?
“But how is it buzz–” Your mouth was once again covered as you screeched when Miguel took hold of the toy, rubbing and pressing it harder on your clitoris.
“Laser web. Now remember. No. Releasing.” You gasped when something heated was pushed into your opening, convulsing and pulsating lightly.
Your toes curled at the overstimulation. You sobbed, your heart hammering at a treacherous tempo. You wanted to cum so badly; you wanted that sweet release of relief and satisfaction, but he wasn't going to allow it.
“There you go, such a good girl.” He pushed the web in and out in a rhythmic pattern. The drones from the objects, the squelching from your pussy, and those cute noises emitting from you made him twitch madly.
Your juices trickled down his claws, the other side wanting to escape as the nectar from your delectable pussy stickied his hand and web, as he knew you were doing everything in your power to not release.
He dropped the web when a raspy, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck, fuck—I want you, corazón. I need you. Please.”
Miguel grasped the webs, his eyes lingering, waiting for that signal. You nodded, as he saw the thumb. He smiled and removed the mesh and blindfold, revealing that warmth and faith in your smile and gaze.
“You are beautiful, you know?”
“You mention it every chance you get.” You giggled out when he pushed his forehead on yours.
“Then I will continue to do it. You are very beautiful.”
He kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, before shoving himself in one go. You threw your head back at the suddenness. A cry quickly turned into a shriek when you felt the familiar buzz on your clitoris once more.
Miguel began to thrust maniacally, your back rubbing against the wall from every pump he gave.
“You like that? Mmn, mmm, fuck, mi corazón, such a perfect little pussy for papi.” He grunted in your ear, licking the lobe.
“Mi-Miguel! Too… too much!” Your screams sprang out, your walls constricting with every deep impact.
“You can- fuck… You can take it—ah, mierda, so good…”
He released his firm hold on the netting to your hips. Pulling all the way out, he paused for a few seconds before ramming himself back to the hilt. He repeated this, prizing himself on the reactions.
Tears rolling down your chin, your shudders, and whimpers that merge into strangled moans. Your disheveled state as you took Miguel, feeling the tip brush against your cervix, as your belly bulged from every breach.
His hips grinding against yours, your brain foggy with white, and him in the center. The vibrator was whirring with every rock; you were losing your mind.
“Too sensitive- Miguel. Please!”
“I'm not stopping. Going to fuck–ah–going to fuck you until you can't walk.”
“Miguel!” You wailed out as drool leaked down as he rubbed against your g-spot.
“That's right; let them know who's doing this. You're mine. I'm going to have you and everyone else remember.” He rasped out in that ragged, husky tone, making you quiver all over.
His name was the only thing leaving your lips as your soaking walls clenched. The sensation from his throbbing, heated shaft as he hit every point perfectly. You slowly began to garble out his name, slurring it into one incoherent sentence.
“Mig-Miguuel!”
“There you go, who owns this pussy?”
“You.”
Miguel snarled in your face, yanking your head back. “I don't like repeating myself. Who? Owns? This? Pussy?!”
His hip bones slammed into yours. You were aware you were going to be overtly sore and bruised in the morning, but it was all worth it in the moment.
“Miguel! Miguel owns this pussy!”
“¡Sí, joder! ¡Buena chica, qué buena chica! ¡Papi es dueño de este coño, papi es dueño de este hermosa coño!”
You were far gone; the sounds of your wet, erotic bodies covered every square centimeter of your living room and kitchen, and maybe even out of the door.
Your feverish sobs and his primal growls sent you into a frenzy. A strong yearning began to creep itself into your stomach as Miguel's brutal pace refused to let up.
“I feel—ah—Miggy! I'm going to—I'm going to—”
“Cum, cum, my love. Yes, yes, cum on my cock. Do it. Cum!”
His hand reached between you two as he pressed the overwhelming toy more on your sensitive bud, jerking it back and forth like a joycon.
Your mouth opened wide, and your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head when you snapped.
“Miguel!”
The bubble burst. You squirted out on his abs, your thighs, the floor, and who knows what else. Your body quaked as if someone were trying to perform an exorcism. But whatever was possessing you, you didn't want it to leave.
He growled out, pushing your legs up to change the angle. He propelled sporadically as he was close to his own climax.
“Sí, sí, sí, joder, joder, joder—corazón!”
He roared out, his talons pricking your hips, as he emptied his entire soul into you.
His chest heaved, your bodies glistening in sweat, as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky breath released.
“Ah… ah- ha…. Fuck. Baby? Corazón? You… you okay?”
“I…”
“Yes? You okay?” He wiped some moisture off your face.
“I- if the dove is the bird of peace, what is the bird of true love? It’s the swallow.” You gave a goofy and sleepy grin.
Miguel froze before he snickered and began to laugh.
“I did it! I made you laugh.”
“Ay, yes… Yes, you did. What am I going to do with you?”
You both smiled into the kiss, happily swirling your tongues in a messy dance.
“Did I fulfill your fantasy, amor?”
“Mhmm, but let's go another round, just to be sure it was completely satisfactory.”
“Dios mío, me estás matando, luna mía. Pero maldita sea, si no es de la mejor manera posible.”
You didn't understand, but your eyes were right back covered, and that was enough for you to know.
#Spotify#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel fanfic#miguel o'hara#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderverse#miguel x fem!reader#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader#oneshot
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
for my fellow merli girlies - do you remember the whole “all roads lead to bruno” line from the sequel series? well, i thought about that too hard and it caused this. enjoy!
all roads lead to eddie diaz
Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.”
Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”
or - eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.
ao3 link
The thing is, Eddie doesn’t intend to say what he does. He blames Frank, in all honesty, because if Eddie was less in touch with his own emotions, perhaps he wouldn’t have said it at all – but Frank had worked hard to make Eddie a more open version of himself, a more confident version of himself, and Eddie blames the confidence for how it happens.
It’s a family barbecue. Eddie loves their 118 family barbecues. They’re chaotic, in the nicest way, Bobby and Athena’s garden full of children of all ages, teenagers gathered in the corner, pouring over whatever the latest game they have for their consoles is, Jee-Yun holding court with the littlest of their gang, enough toys to rival an actual toy store gathered around them. Bobby was grilling, Buck standing at his side, the two of them looking altogether very serious as they discussed whether or not the burgers were done yet.
Eddie loved their family barbecues – the way everyone had a role to play amongst the chaos. Eddie’s was to stay far away from the food – though he felt he had long-since redeemed himself on the culinary front – and so he was usually sitting with a beer in hand, observing. Maybe once upon a time it was in an ‘outside looking in’ kind of way, but now it was in more of an appreciative way – Eddie loved this family he had built for himself, the people he had found and the people who had helped him find himself. He liked to watch, drink it all in – because one day, Eddie Diaz would be old and grey (and it was a revelation in itself to want to grow old) and these will have been the good old days, and he’ll miss them, so he likes to observe, and try and commit it all to memory.
Eddie’s attention was drawn by a bright laugh from Buck, and he couldn’t help the way he smiled as he watched his best friend.
“He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” Tommy said, siding up to Eddie. Normally, it wouldn’t be unusual for Eddie and Tommy to discuss how wonderful Buck was – it had long since become a key bonding point of their friendship – but there was an edge to Tommy’s voice that surprised Eddie. Tommy was a fairly calm and collected guy.
Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.”
Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”
Eddie was quiet, for a minute. “Because I was good at hiding it,” he admitted. “Even from myself. I hid it for so long that I think people started to assume they were wrong to think I had ever felt that way about him.”
“But you do? Feel that way about him?”
Eddie shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like you want to know the answer to that.”
Tommy sighed. “I’m asking you – as a friend.”
“Then the answer is yes,” Eddie said. It still surprised him, how easily the words came now. It had taken so long for him to get to the point of being able to say it, the words coming out in a panicked rush during a session with Frank. It had felt like the most immense task he had ever undertaken, in that moment, but the words had started to come easier, since – when he’d told Hen, and Karen, over a bottle of pinot grigio, the words punctuated by some sad tears. He’d thought it had been too late, then, and Hen had gently reassured him that it would never be too late, not for him and Buck.
Still – it was the wrong time. Buck was with Tommy, and they’d been together for close to five months now, and Buck was happy. Liberated, even, free, and comfortable in himself in a way that Eddie had never seen before. His bisexuality had been the thing Buck had searched for his whole life, and who was Eddie to deny him the joy of discovering his queerness with a relatively attractive man who was kind to him? Eddie was in love with Buck, and in some ways, that love was what allowed him to take a more selfless approach to the whole situation. Eddie was proud of that.
Tommy’s face was doing something entirely complicated.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t want this to affect his friendship with Tommy – really, he didn’t. Eddie knew that if this all went the way he would like it to go, there would be hurt, but he’d sort of been hoping that Buck and Tommy’s relationship would come to its natural end and that hurt would only be momentary, the result of the strangeness that Tommy would feel if his ex-boyfriend started to date their mutual friend. But despite that, Eddie didn’t want to lose Tommy, and he knew Buck wouldn’t want to lose him either.
“Is it going to be a problem for you?” Tommy questioned, in lieu of a response.
Eddie shrugged. “No.”
Tommy’s face got even more complicated, confusion the clear emotion. “How – how is it not a problem for you?”
And this – this is where Eddie probably should have kept his mouth shut. In hindsight, he should have feigned some sort of migraine, and ran away, but he didn’t. Eddie let his newfound confidence get the better of him, and that was a very shiny, new problem for him.
There were lots of reasons it wasn’t a problem, but it all boiled down to one simple thing -
“I know he’ll chose me.”
The words were out, before Eddie could stop himself, and he couldn’t help but internally wince as he looked at Tommy’s face, the confusion turning to hurt, and then, well – annoyance. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to hear, Eddie knew, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt in saying it.
Eddie Diaz knew several different things to be true. The sky was blue, and he loved Christopher with every particle of his being. He was a damn good firefighter – and Evan Buckley would always choose him, over anyone else in the world.
Buck just didn’t know he was an option, yet.
“You sound very sure of that,” Tommy’s jaw was set in a hard line, his annoyance clear.
“I am,” Eddie said. “I want him to be happy, with you. I’m not going to try and ruin what you have. But Buck and I – we’ve been going somewhere for a long time, now, and neither of us were ready before. We’re not ready now, arguably. But I know we will be, one day, and so I know he’ll chose me.”
“All roads lead to Eddie Diaz, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Tommy was quiet. “I’m not going to fight you for him.”
“I’m not going to start a fight,” Eddie retorted. “It’s his decision.”
“Right.” Tommy looked as though he didn’t quite know what to say. “I am – I’m going to go and get another drink.”
Eddie watched as the other man walked away, and although it wasn’t particularly nice of him, he couldn’t help but smirk into the rim of his beer bottle.
The sky was blue, and Eddie was a happy man, now – and Buck would always choose him. He was sure of it.
He was looking forward to it.
258 notes
·
View notes
Text
X Factor
"Has anyone seen Cyclops lately?" Professor X asked.
"Not since he left for his reconnaissance mission." Hank answered.
"Maybe that's why I've been so relaxed lately." Wolverine chimed in.
"This could be serious Logan! If he isn't back by tomorrow, I will use cerebro to find him." Charles said, genuinely concerned.
KNOCK KNOCK!
"See, that's Summers right there. I can smell him a mile away." Logan snapped back.
The three men all walked to the front door to greet their friend, all curious about why he took so long. Logan slowly opened the door, and recoiled at the man standing in front of him. Logan's head slowly tilted back to meet eye to eye with the now gigantic 7 foot tall Cyclops. His face was round and plump with fat with a thick ginger beard covering his soft jawline. Logan scanned up and down the man's body, just trying to confirm what he is seeing is real. Summers had soft man tits that pushed tightly against his blue uniform, and a hulking gut and thick love handles that spilled out under his shirt. Logan was eye level with the man's deep belly button, with a thick pelt of ginger hair spiraling around it and leading up to his chest. His legs and arms were just as plump as the rest of him, looking stuffed like sausages. And his hands and feet looked at least double the size they used to be, looking as if they ripped through his gloves and shoes. Summers let out a loud burp and he scratched his gut, making Logan recoil from the smell.
"Scott? Is that you?" Hank broke the silence.
"Uuugh, Scott? Yeah, Scott!" His voice was deep and lethargic.
"That's not Scott!" Charles protested.
"Oh it's him. Just with the smell of burger grease all over his face." Logan reassured.
"You got food? I'm sooooo hungry." Scott ducked his way through the doorframe and walked through Logan like he wasn't even there.
Charles chased after summers, trying to ask him what happened. While Logan and Hank stood behind for a moment, shocked.
"I'll get him food, you figure out what is wrong with him." Logan whispered to Hank.
"I'll have to try." Hank sighed.
They split up, with Hank preparing his lab and Logan following Scott and Charles into the kitchen. Logan raided the fridge, grabbing the greasiest foods he could find.
"Hey bub! You hungry?" Logan taunted Scott with his food. "Come and get it!" He yelled as he ran towards Hanks lab.
Logan ran as fast as he could, shocked at how fast the blubbery Scott could run. He felt the heavy footsteps get closer and closer.
"Shut the door!" Logan yelled as he ran into the lab, with Summers heavy on his tail. Hank slammed on the button, slamming the reinforced door and trapping the three men in the lab. Logan finally gave Scott the food, hoping it would hold him off long enough.
"We gotta move fast, this won't hold himmover for long." Logan said between deep breaths.
Hank grabbed a needle and a sample of blood from Scotts arm. He didn't even seem to notice, too distracted by his food. Hank put the blood under his microscope and had to do a double take at what he saw.
"What is it?" Logan asked.
"There seems to be another X gene attached to Scotts X gene. It must be causing the mutations." Hank responded.
"So what does that mean?" Logan asked again.
"I think a mutant did this to him. Their X gene must have attached itself to Scotts and made these physical and mental changes."
"So he's gonna be like this forever?"
"I don't know, not until I do more tests at least. Hopefully his immune system will remove the X gene, but I have no idea if it will." Hank said as he frantically pulled out more equipment.
"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, you just stay here and keep him occupied." Logan said as he opened the labs door.
"Wait, Logan! I don't think that's a good id-" Hank was cut off as Logan closed the door.
Logan ran out of the school, determined to find the root of the problem. With the strong smell Scott was giving off, it wasn't hard for Logan to follow his trail. Though the trail only brought Logan from fast food restaurant to fast food restaurant. Scott had stopped at five restaurants on his journey to the school. After an hour of driving from place to place, Logan finally arrived at a suspicious building. The trail was faint by this point, but it seemed to end here. For all Logan could tell, it looked abandoned. Everything was broken down and covered in leaves. He walked around the perimeter of the building and found an entrance with a bunker. The bunker door had a brand new lock covering it. A single slash of his claws, and Logan was in.
The stairs seemed to go on forever, leading further and further underground. It finally led to an opening, when Logan heard a scream echo around the room. He ran further into the room and it led to a large glass window. Through the window, he saw colossus chained up in a small bare room. Almost like a prison cell. And on the other side was a mutant that Logan didn't recognise. Colossus was yelling in pain as metallic clangs echoed out of his body. And right before Logan's eyes, Colossus' body began to change. The angular corners of his metallic body started to become rounder and rounder. His six pack melted into a hard round gut, and his hard pecs swelled into thick man tits. The defined muscle of his limbs disappeared under a soft looking layer of fat. His metal bulge grew even larger as his plump ass doubled in size. Finally, his angular face became round and plump like Summers, as metal pork chops formed on his cheeks.
The metallic clanging of his body growing finally ended, as did his yells of pain. The other mutant in the room walked over to him and untied his restraints.
"C'mon Colossus. Clock him." Logan whispered under his breath.
Though to his shock, Colossus did nothing once his restraints were off. He just slowly followed the mutant out of the cell.
"What the hell is he doing?" Logan scoffed. "I guess I'll have to do this myself."
Logan backed up and lowered his shoulder, ready to bash through the window. He sprinted full speed at the window, but stopped inches away. He opened his eyes, confused at why he had stopped before the window. He was slowly turned around to face Magneto, who was controlling the metal inside Logan's body.
"What the hell?" Logan asked as he was lifted into the air.
"Aw. Look at the big bad Wolverine trying to save the day." Magneto taunted.
"What did you do to Colossus!?" Logan yelled.
"Oh him. That's just a little trick my new friend can do. He can transfer traits between people."
"And you did that to Summers too, didn't you!"
"Well that prick tried to get in my way. All of Charles little x men always try to get in my way, even though I want what is best for mutants. Just see the upside, some dumb fat oaf is enjoying the fit body and motivation of your friend." Magneto smiled.
"No you can't just do this."
"Well I already have. But don't worry, it's temporary. At least the mental changes are. Summers will have to have a nice training regimen to lose all that weight, so he might need some XXL uniforms for a bit. Unfortunately I think your metallic friend might be stuck like this forever, but I think pork chops and massive gut look good on him." Magneto signaled for the mutant to come over as Colossus stood idly by.
"No no no, don't!" Logan began to struggle.
"If it's any consolation, once the effects wear off, your little healing factor will probably burn off all the fat for you. So you won't have to join Summers on the treadmill." He let out a maniacal laugh.
The other mutant dragged in a massive Hulk of a man before starting the transfer. Logan felt a warm feeling engulf his body. He looked down and saw a small gut begin to form under his skin tight uniform. It swelled and swelled until he couldn't see his feet anymore. He heard his uniform start to rip as it rode up his hairy gut, revealing a deep belly button. His love handles made his once skinny waist blow up into wide blubber that spilled over his waist band, giving him a wide silhouette. Logan then saw his pecs start to grow, creating two mounds of fat under his uniform. They grew until they began to sag under their own weight, resting on his massive gut.
Logan looked up to see the other man in the room has become slim like he used to be, with a skinny waist and thick pecs. He also watched as the nearly 7 foot tall man shrunk in height to a measly 5"3. Meanwhile, Logan's perspective began to shift higher and higher as his legs and spine stretched to match his new height of 7 feet. His body also seemed to get fatter as he grew, making him look just as fat despite growing nearly two feet in height.
Logan then felt his arms begin to change. His shoulder broadened as fat covered the muscle definition in his arms. His arms also lengthened to match his height and his hands tripled in size, becoming hulking man hands fitting for a man of his stature. He then felt a tightness grow in his pants, tighter than they already were. His perky ass swelled with fat, ripping through his yellow spandex and giving his body a strong S shape. His dick also grew to a massive 10 inches, and thickened to the size of a pop can, making an unmistakable bulge in his underwear.
Logan let out a few involuntarily moans as the pleasure shot through his body. It made his mind cloudy, as he forgot what he was even supposed to be stressed about. He barely even noticed the fat piling into his thighs, making them rip through his pants. And his feet also tripled in size, similar to his hands, giving his new body more stability.
Finally, Logan's head began to change. His head grew in proportion with his body as fat filled his angular face. His cheeks swelled as multiple double chins formed over his neck. And his jawline disappeared as his face appeared more round. Though a thick hairy beard quickly covered his face, making the fat less noticeable.
As the physical transformation came to an end, his mind started to lose his most defining traits. His headstrong and stubborn personality was replaced by loyalty, and his anger issues were replaced by a high amount of patience. And his usual workout routines became an insatiable hunger. And how could you forget the constant horniness.
Magneto slowly let Logan to the ground as all of his clothes fell to the ground in shreds. He stayed on his knees for a moment, catching his breath as pre cum spilled out of his massive dick.
"Your mission is to capture Hank and Charles, and bring them here. And put on some clothes before you go." Magneto commanded.
"Yes sir!" Logan grunted as he stood up
Logan followed Colossus out of the room. Once out of the room, Logan cut in front of Colossus and stood eye to eye with the Goliath of a man for the first time in his life.
"I'm gonna have my way with this metal cock before we go. Just so you know who's boss in this operation, alright bub." Logan gripped Colossus' dick and winked before dragging Colossus off. The ground trembled as the two hulking men walked off.
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kool-aid Isn’t the Only Thing I’m Thirsty For
Happy 4th of July everyone!
————————————————————————
“Y’know my great grandfather was stationed in France?”
“No shit? My nephew was deployed there.”
“Yeah— Cant remember for the life of me what division he was in, but he was sent back to the states after he blew off most of his fingers.”
“Yeesh.. Makes me mighty glad I missed out on all o’ that! hey- make sure to keep flippin’! These need to be grilled correctly.”
“Don’t tell a man how to use his own grill…”
Sykes, Rourke, and Alameda hovered over the grill, Sykes in charge of the burgers as he shot the shit with the old commander and cow wrangler, a half-smoked cigar hanging from each of their mouths and a chilled beer bottle in hand.
It had been a while since Sykes had celebrated the 4th, but he had subtly dominated the command of the grill. And Rourke was more than happy to piss away time, puffing on his cigar as he talked about old war battles with the two other men.
The sun beat down on the men, who had stationed themselves in the old lot behind the main studio building, both Rourke and Sykes had exchanged their usually stiff outfits for their old wife-beaters. While Alameda wore a simple plaid button up. An old radio played classic yacht rock, sitting atop a splintering picnic table. And a cooler filled with drinks was placed beside the grill, a few spare wasps hovering around the yellowed plastic of the cooler.
“(Y/N)!!!” Sykes hollered, Rourke and Alameda flinching at the noise,
“How're you doing with the Kool-aid!?”
(Y/n) opened the door to the backyard, calling back, “Almost done!!!”
Closing the door, (Y/n) turned towards Medusa, who was finishing mixing the disgustingly sweet drink, limp cigarette between her lips
“Hey, don’t get any cigarette ash in it!” They whined.
“Oh please, I won't! At least the ash would cut back the sugar.” Medusa muttered, sweeping back her dangling American flag earrings.
(Y/n) nodded, pulling on the hem of their denim shorts that stuck to their sweaty skin. “Cool, Imma bring out the ketchup and shit, Facilier, do you wanna join us?”
Facilier, who was draped on the counter across from Medusa, top hat off and slightly fanning himself shrugged,
“Eh, I’m not too big on burgers Chére. And I’m pretty sure drinking even a small glass of that red monstrosity will put me in an early grave.”
“You sure? I brought some illegal fireworks that we’ll be setting off later? You could do the honors of lighting them?”
Facilier paused his fanning, “…Illegal you say? What kind?”
“Oh I’ve got; Snakes, sparklers, firecrackers, M80, black cats, Roman candles, screamin’ Mimi’s, ladyfingers, fuzz buttles, snicker bombs, church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, crap flappers, whistling bungholes, spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker do’s, hoosker don’ts, cherry bombs, nipsa daisers with scooter stick, and whistling kitty chasers.” (Y/n) listed off with their fingers.
…
“….Well, I could never pass up a good ol’ Roman candle… sure. Just let me know when you bring ‘em out.”
(Y/n) laughed, nodding excitedly as they carried out all the condiments, paper plates, and napkins to the backyard, Medusa bustling beside them with the large pitcher of iced Kool-aid.
“I haven’t had a proper July 4th cookout since I was a girl! I still remember my ol’ mother and father screaming over the undercooked hot dogs… Oh, back when this country had proper domestic violence~” Medusa cooed, a nostalgic smile making her eyes squint.
The park attendant gave Medusa the side eye, brows furrowed before shaking their head, (Y/n)’s attention quickly turned towards the large men outside.
They tried not to blatantly stare at how tight Sykes beater was stretched around his chest, or how all of the men’s chest and arm hair were slicked with sweat, OR how an old anchor tattoo made itself known on Rourkes back whenever he flexed, OR OR how good Alameda looked taking a long puff his cigar.
…
“…Meat's back on the menu tonight…” (Y/n) thought to themselves, hoping that the heat could excuse their flushed face.
To break out of there thoughts, (Y/n) shouted to the group,
“Alright! Who’s ready to party!?”
———————————————————————
“What in god's name are they doing?” Hook muttered, watching through the window in morbid fascination as (Y/n) fanatically cheered on Facilier, who had begun to laugh maniacally as he shot off three Roman candles at once.
“Oh it’s that silly American holiday, today. The one where they dress up is garish clothing and raise their cholesterol.” Cruella hisses, already feeling a headache coming on. “I tell you those Americans eat like they have free healthcare..”
“Ugh, a wretched holiday for a wretched country, the traitors..” Governor Ratcliffe sneered.
“Oh, now look at that—” Hook pointed out,
From the backyard, Rourke hands (Y/n) what seems to be a small, multicolored bazooka, a wicked grin on his face as he helps them light the rocket's fuse.
Rourke ruffled their hair, stepping back a few paces to join Sykes and Slim’s side, watching proudly as (Y/n) braces and aimed the rocket towards the sky, shooting a fiery ball high up into the night air, which promptly exploded into a burning flower of sparkles. The firework joking one of many across the dark sky.
“USA! USA! USA! USA!”
…
“…I bet 30 dollars one of them is losing a finger tonight.” Clayton speaks up amongst the crowd of villains watching from inside.
“Aye, make that 50.”
————————————————————————
Just wanted to write a little blurb celebrating the 4th of July! I realized just how little American villains the Disney cannon has, and I wanted an excuse to thirst over Rourke and Sykes in old wife- beaters grilling me a burger🤤.
(ALSO DISCLAIMER!! This was merely written for fun. I love America and I love the beautiful nature it has, but I don’t love the American government.
This was not written with any political intention, only thirst for old men and Kool—aid.)
#disney villains#self insert#disney imagine#disney x reader#lyle rourke#disney atlantis#bill sykes#medusa#dr facilier#alameda slim#4th of july#america ya
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
— 🎀🕊️ The ethereal yet odd prefect of Ramshackle.
This version is old! Updated intro is here!~
“How did I get here? Why, I wished upon a star, of course!”
Nicknames: Prefect / Prefect of Ramshackle, Henchman (Grim), Trickster (Rook), Little Shrimpy / Sea Angel (Floyd), Kid (Leona), Child of Man (Malleus), Lacy, Ra-ra (Cater)
Grade/Class: Freshman/Class A
Birthday: May 5
Age: 16
Height: 170.18 cm (5’7 ft) ( 175.26/5’9 with her heels!)
Dominant Hand: Right
Homeland: ???
Club: None yet !
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Hobbies: Designing and making clothes
Pet Peeves: Indecisiveness and living routinely
Favourite Food: Burgers !
Least Favorite Food: Steamed fish and liver
Talent: Making clothes out of just about anything!
Likes : Fashion, Cute things, Mythology, Folklore, Fairytales, Flower language, “Adventure”, Anything considered “Art”, Ribbons n’ frills, Pranks n’ mischief, Amusement parks, adrenaline rushes, Cute sweets and cafe hopping!!!
Dislikes : “Boring things”, Normalcy/Living life routinely, pessimism, indecisiveness, lack of freedom, strong smells, studying, silence, humid weather, being looked down on.
Gender & Sexuality: cis girl, demisexual + demiromantic
Voice Claim(s):
ENG: Briana White (Aerith from Final Fantasy)
JP: ??? (None yet!)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
— ₊˚⊹ The mysterious prefect from another world, Kyra Lovelace exudes an ethereal aura that draws in people and animals alike.
Easy to approach, its easy to let your guard down around her without even realizing it! Well, mostly because she doesn’t seem like a threat at all.
It almost feels like she was pulled straight out of a fairy tale! The way critters big and small flock to her— they say that they even helped her clean up the Campus when she was still a janitor!
(Strangely enough, this also extends to beastmen and merfolk. Such a strange thing, isn’t she?)
With how kind she is, it feels like she really is an angel sent from above! Ever so eager to help whenever she can without ever asking for a thing back, even if they never even asked her.
Of course, people aren’t always as they seem.
Kyra is an uncontrollable force of impulsivity and chaos! Wherever she goes, trouble is sure to follow! With an insatiable desire for adventure and an almost childish curiosity and wonder of everything— Kyra is much more mischevious than you’d think!
Incredibly chatty and foul-mouthed (and fluent in brainrot) with absolutely zero filter, Kyra says whatever is on her mind, and does whatever she wants, whenever she wants!
So dont be surprised if she randomly dissappears out of nowhere, only to come back with trouble burning hot on her heels, and eyes full of wonder! Shes an odd one, thats for sure. You never know whats going to come out of her mouth!
Despite how rambunctious and uncontrollable she is— you’ll find that she’s wormed herself into your heart, and its already too late! Because once she sees you as a friend? Hah, good luck getting rid of her!
An amazing friend in all seriousness, but be ready to face whatever trouble she brings with her! The definition of ride or die, if you can’t handle it then don’t bother sticking around, cuz’ the fun (and chaos) never stops when Kyra is around!
Its undeniable that Kyra leaves an impression! Shes the kind of person you’ll remember even years after a little interaction, she leaves a mark on everyone she meets and her larger-than-life persona is sure to be remembered by all! If you’ve met her, you’ll never forget her. Thats for sure!
Even if she seems rather naive and simple minded at times, shes actually very thoughtful. She has an admirable view of life, and honestly? The best way to describe her is love itself.
She loves so, so very much. Shes so full of it, and it overflows onto the people she interacts with. Shes very emotionally intelligent, and knows just the right things to say to people. A lover in spirit, she can tell when someone’s hurting. After all, shes been there, too.
Perhaps its a little foolish, she can be too trusting of others, choosing to see the best in everyone regardless of who they are. But she’d rather love too much than not at all.
She loves living, she loves every little thing. She has no room for shame nor hesitation because she loves living so very much, she refuses to waste time standing at the sidelines (Not anymore). She lives without regrets, with no restraint, nor fear. She lives as she pleases because that is what living should truly be, shameless and raw. To be who you truly are unashamed, to let yourself shine brighter than the stars! ♡
Sadness is nothing to be ashamed of. Feeling overwhelmed? Stop on by at Ramshackle, and the little mischevious angel of a prefect is sure to sit down with you and listen. Because, she loves you, too!
“Whats done is done, nothin’ we can do about it now other than laugh about it and move forward! Whats the point in feelin’ bad anyways? No point in waiting for the world to stop spinning, yeah?”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
—₊˚⊹ Funfacts n’ Trivia !
(+ some doodles~)
(the quality is so bad pls…)
🎀 Kyra is not twisted / based on a specific character, but she is just the embodiment of the kind of person i aspire to be! Free, positive, and full of love! Basically a ball of blazing chaos and love, with a lust for life.
🎀 I gave her some typical Disney Princess characteristics (the talking to animals, ethereal beauty, ykyk) just because i thought it’d be funny paired with her personality!
🎀 Kyra’s name means “Shiny” in Japanese, but it can mean “Lord”, “Princess” or “Lady” in other languages!
🎀 Kyra’s last name, “Lovelace”, originates from the word “Lawless” or “Outlaw”! Which honestly fits her and her attitude perfectly, as well as how cute it sounds despite its meaning lol
🎀 Uses her affinity with animals for her ‘little shit’ shennanigans. Has sent an army of rats to Octavinelle during Book 3 out of pure spite, and always wins Croquet with Heartslabyul because the hedgehogs roll into the goals even though she clearly missed (shes actually really bad at croquet.
🎀 ^^ Her natural ability to draw in animals doesn’t stop there— but it seems beastmen and merfolk alike are also drawn towards Kyra! Although much more subtly. Though, don’t be surprised if a beastman comes sniffing around her without warning! (She doesn’t mind, she finds it cute!)
🎀 With waaay too much energy, Kyra just cant stay still for a minute! Always off on some random side quest, working a part-time job at Sam’s just for the fun of it to partying it up with Scarabia, she just can’t stick to one thing for too long! She’ll dissappear for a minute and come back with something completely random. You really never know with her.
(Parents got confused and picked Side Quest Daughter)
🎀 She has a concerningly high pain tolerance. Could be stabbed and be bleeding out but wont notice until someone points it out.
🎀 A total klutz. Shes so clumsy its actually unbelievable how clumsy she is. She could be walking so gracefully then suddenly trip on air. Bumps into literally everything. (The truth about her high pain tolerance— its because shes so clumsy shes so used to getting hurt by random things)
🎀 She adores fashion and hopes to one day be a fashion designer! Her personal style is himekaji.
🎀 She customized her uniform herself, and has always been fond of making her own clothes out of spare cloths and fabrics ever since she was a child! Her first ever dress she made was from the fabric of a curtain.
🎀 Despite how rambunctious she can be— Kyra can also be incredibly gentle. This comes out whenever taking care of her friends, even if she finds it funny to (playfully) bully them, she doesn’t mind letting them lay in her lap and quietly singing to them until they fall asleep.
🎀 She has a scarily good inuition!
🎀 Hoards things like a goblin. Whatever random object she finds she just keeps it, regardless if its worth anything. Her ‘hoard’ consists of trinkets that vary from ‘cool shaped rock on the side of the road’ to ‘a literal gemstone mined from the depths of Briar Valley my friend Hornton gave me!’.
🎀 shes an adrenaline junkie.
—₊˚⊹ Fatal Flaw(s) :
💔 (Self) Toxic Positivity : Anyone who knows Kyra knows just how positive she is. But, what they don’t know is how deeply imbedded it is in herself. Although Kyra always speaks about how important it is to allow yourself to express your emotions, be it anger or sadness, she encourages others to express themselves.
But that does not go for herself. For some reason, she refuses to ever show any sign of “negative” emotions in herself.
Toxic positivity is a "pressure to stay upbeat no matter how dire one's circumstance is", which may prevent emotional coping by feeling otherwise natural emotions. Toxic positivity happens when people believe that negative thoughts about anything should be avoided. Even in response to events which normally would evoke sadness, such as loss or hardships, positivity is encouraged as a means to cope, but tends to overlook and dismiss true expression.
Instead of properly coping when faced with overwhelming, negative emotions, she instead chooses to ignore it entirely. She jokes about it, and pretends it doesn’t exist. All of these pent up emotions keep on layering on eachother, yet she continues to bottle it all up until she explodes.
💔 Impulsivity, with zero regard for safety : Infamously known for her reckless behavior, but her impulsiveness constantly puts her in danger. It doesn’t matter how many times she gets hurt, she just keeps on doing it— constantly running head first into danger again and again with zero regard for her own safety and health.
💔 Calm— to the point of being uncaring : Kyra is coolheaded. As chill as mount Everest, and goes with the flow just like water following a stream. This calm mindset is both a blessing and a curse, even if she is good at staying calm even under crushing pressure, she can struggle to see the urgency in situations until its too late.
Often brushing off clear warnings, reassuring herself and everyone else that it’ll be finee! (It wont.)
She lacks that sense of danger needed for survival— but not all hope is lost. After all, theres always room for growth!
“If you keep waiting until you’re ready, you’ll be waiting for your entire life. People will always judge you no matter the time of day, so just go on and be yourself!”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
—₊˚⊹ Notable Relationships !
— Kyra x Floyd !! (AngEel)
(Yeah they have the dumbest ship name ever but i think that makes it fit even more theyre so STUPID !!! IM GONNA BITE RHEM !!!!!!)
SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS !!! SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVER SLOWBURNIDIOTSTOLOVERS THEYRE SO AAAA
The cutiest patooties EVER !!! If you like a dramatic, angsty ship, unfortunately they aren’t for you !!! The only thing you’ll get from Floyd n’ Kyra is tooth rotting, diabetes inducing FLUFF and a major headache while watching them obviously be basically a couple— but refuse to acknowledge it.
Ever since they both caught a glimpse of eachother, there was always this strange feeling of familiarity. As if they’ve met before, somewhere… Perhaps once upon a dream? (Nah, jk. Opening scene ref!!! She took his hand teehee)
They’re canonically soulmates. Eachothers compliment, theres no one on land nor under the sea that could ever be as in sync with Floyd as Kyra is. They just… Click. Their hearts beat in the same pattern, and they’re always on the same page. Well, even when they aren’t and they argue, they can never stay mad at eachother for too long.
Remember what I said about Kyra being naturally very touchy? Yeah, this is a whole new level. Kyra has no problems showering Floyd in kisses and affection, both physically and verbally, even if they are in public. She doesn’t see how it could be seen wrong, after all they are just the best of friends !! Shes just really comfortable with him, thats all.
In fact, she gets cuteness aggression from him! Thinks that hes the cutest thing ever, and she just cant help but swoon and coo at him, squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses!
Floyd doesn’t mind at all! And returns the favor! Of course, there are times where he isn’t in the mood, and Kyra is more than understanding. But no matter how upset or angry Floyd gets, he could never be at Kyra. He’ll come to her grumbling about whatever hes annoyed about and melt into her arms, and she’ll listen while carressing his hair and humming along.
Its hard not to assume the two are dating, when Kyra runs into his arms at match speed once hes in view, and he picks her up n’ spins her around like they didn’t just see eachother earlier in the morning. Hard not to assume they’re dating when Kyra tells him ‘I love you!’ So shamelessly in public.
Hard not to assume things when Floyd is so obviously, ridiculously soft around her. Absolutely smitten, you can practically see his heart eyes, paired with that lopsided, dopey grin. Not to mention the way his mood seems to do a total 180 and cheering right up when Kyra is around! He could never get bored with her, even when they’re doing nothing but laying in bed together in silence. Everything they do, in his opinion, as long as theyre together, then its fun.
Are they really that oblivious…? Theres no way… But, it seems as time passes, the realization is beginning to dawn on both of them! Its about time! (No, seriously. Everyone is sick of them. Especially Ace. Gags whenever he sees them being all “lovey dovey”, pun intended.)
— Kyra & Leona !!
After Book 2 Kyra basically looked at Leona and said “yeah, thats gonna be my big bro!” And ever since she just refuses to leave him alone. Literally.
Kyra sees the good in Leona, she knows deep down he does care for the people around him even if he says he doesnt. And she finds it so endearing!! She loves him dearly as her big brother, and wants to help him get his motivation back!!! (Has absolutely tricked him into doing his own homework by pretending it was hers.)
Though he won’t admit it, he sees her as a little sister and somehow takes pride in knowing she knows she can depend on him.
— Kyra & Malleus !!
The best of friends ! Late night walks where Malleus— or, Hornton, talks about gargoyles and Kyra listens, and talks about whatever comes to mind. Kyra always invites Hornton to Ramshackle for a little hangout, and she enjoys playfully bullying and bantering with him. Malleus finds it amusing how ‘brave’ she is, and plays along. What a funny little human!
Who could be a better friend than Kyra? She was practically meant for this! Platonic soulmates?? I think yes!!!!!!
They exchange random little facts, Malleus talking about gargoyles n’ architecture while Kyra talks about mythology from her world! (“He… Ate his own children…?” “Haha, yeah.”)
Kyra absolutely teaches Malleus brainrot. She has no regrets.
— Kyra & Adeuce Duo !!
Her day ones, and also victims of her Found Family Beam. (Seriously, shes just out here building a family like this shit is Toca Life 😭😭)
She especially has a soft spot for Ace! Even though she bullies him the most and they banter (and fight) like siblings, she cares for him more than she’d ever admit.
She finds Deuce adorable! His biggest supporter, even if she doesn’t like studying, she tries to help him whenever she can! (Jokes that Deuce is her favorite and she’d “throw Ace in the trash”.)
Adores the two with all her heart. Will always be looking out of them in both big and small ways, she trusts them entirely, fully! Would trust them with her life, but not with the food she was saving for herself.
— Kyra & Grim !!
She always found Grim so very cute! As an animal lover, she couldn’t bring herself to ever dislike Grim. Of course, they got even closer as time passed, and she cares for him like a son! Views him as such, and loves to cradle him in her arms. (In private, of course. The Great Grim has a reputation to keep up!!)
— Kyra & Divius Crewel !!
Same thing that happened with Leona, she kind of just looked at him and went “Mmm yes, father figure time!!!”
Although she doesn’t like to open up much, she often finds herself doing just that when talking to Crewel one on one. She feels as if she can rely on him.
Admires him a lot! Especially with his designs, she begged him to teach her some of his tricks that he picked up. Her biggest inspiration to pursue fashion designing as a career! Shes so thankful for him, as a role model and as a father figure.
“The world is so much more beautiful than most realize. Life is a gift. Don’t worry, you can rest. I’ll be right here until the sun rises again, and we can face tomorrow together.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
#🎀🕊️! Kyra#🎀! Oc#twst wonderland#twst oc#disney twst#twst yuu#twisted wonderland#oc#oc art#oc x canon#oc x cc#yuusona#twst#floyd leech x oc#floyd leech x yuusona
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
OH, MY ANGEL !
pairing. rafe x reader
warnings. mentions of death
authors note. Finally got around to writing something for y’all. I just finished my finals so look out for more stuff ♥︎
she sat in the dim light of the afternoon, the yellowed paper in her hands crinkling slightly as she folded it back into its envelope. She set it down carefully, as if the letter itself were a fragile artifact, a relic of a past too distant to touch but too painful to forget.
It was the third time today, It was always the same: his words, inked in careful loops, never failed to stir her chest, pulling at something that had long since been buried. She wiped her doe eyes, almost absently, as she sat in the small kitchen of the janky trailer they had shared for two years.
The room, like everything else, had not changed. The cracked pistachio tiles on the floor still gleamed faintly, and the old refrigerator geared in its corner as if nothing had happened. She could still see him, standing by the stove, humming that tune she could never quite place. He was always humming something—his voice, off-key but full of joy, mingling with the sounds of sizzling eggs or the clatter of coffee cups.
A shaky breath left her lips. How long had it been? Two months? Three? Time no longer mattered, it had become something useless and elusive.
The first time she met rafe, she had been so small, so unsure of herself, buried in the pages of textbooks, her head always filled with equations and literature, the world outside her studies a blur and irrelevant . She remembered the exact moment he had stopped her in the hallway—his tall frame looming over her, dirty blonde hair tousled in that wild, unkempt way that always seemed as if he had just been struck by a bolt of lightning. His straight brows were drawn together, blue eyes alight with a strange mixture of sincerity and mischief.
"I know you're busy," he had said, his voice light, almost teasing, "but can I take you out, sweetheart? Just once, for dinner? You could use a break from all that damn studying." He said in his thick souther accent that she could still hear in the back of her head
She had smiled politely, not sure how to respond. She had never been good at these things—these invitations, these gestures. But he was persistent, too persistent for her own good.
rafe didn't take “no” for an answer. It was sickening..yet somehow endearing.
Finally, after what felt like weeks of gentle courting, she had agreed. She had been so sure it would be an ordinary evening, a dull affair, a dinner with some dumb cowboy she would forget as soon as he left.
But man, oh man. She had been so wrong.
The evening had felt effortless—he had made her laugh, not by telling jokes, but by simply being himself. He had ordered something he didn’t know how to pronounce, then laughed when he spilled half of his strawberry milkshake on his button up. She had laughed too, surprised at how at ease she felt, how comfortable, as though he had always been there.
By the end of the night, her heart had been full, her cheeks flushed with something new. It was not just the beer, not just the burgers and fries they had eaten in the corner of a tiny diner where the neon sign flickered a little too often—but it was rafe. The way his smile lit up the dim corners of the room, the way his eyes seemed to take her in as if she were the most interesting thing in the world.
She had never known that such a moment, so simple, could be the best day of her life.
she sighed now, the letter crinkling again in her lap. She had tried—oh, how hard she had tried—not to think of her angel, or the call, that darn call she had received at 2:34 am informing her the love of her life was dead.
She had taken up gardening, even tried to return to her studies, though they felt heavier now, suffocating. His absence was everywhere: in the mornings when the trailer was too quiet, when there were no shoes left carelessly at the steps, no socks half-wrapped around the bedpost. And, oh, how she missed the sound of his humming, that low, almost constant noise that filled every corner of the house with life.
He had been a goofball. Always teasing, always laughing, with that wild hair that seemed to defy order, that strange and beautiful way of looking at the world. She had adored how he always seemed to be a step ahead of her, how his hands—those big, calloused hands—always managed to find their way to her, holding her waist, guiding her through the maze of their simple but happy life. She had even grown to miss the smell of his work uniform by the door, the sharp scent of leather and cologne, a reminder that he was still, always, coming home.
She wanted to be angry—angry that he was gone, angry that she had no choice but to move on—but the truth was, she couldn't. He had been everything she hadn’t known she needed, and now, in his absence, she was left with nothing but these letters. These traces of him.
And yet, they were a cruel comfort.
The words he had written—his small, careful script—now seemed like a message from a distant world. She read them again and again, his familiar tone ringing in her mind
“Don’t worry baby, you know I got you…”
A shiver passed through her. It was true. She would be fine, but she would never be the same. How could she? He had been her world.
The noise of the refrigerator became a distant, haunting sound as she sat there, staring at the letters on the small wooden table. She had no choice but to go on, to move through the days, but a part of her—perhaps the only part that still remembered—was always reaching for him. For his laughter. For the way he had looked at her as if she were the only person who mattered.
But the days passed, and the trailer stayed empty.
She placed her hand gently over them, a soft, almost imperceptible smile on her lips. She knew what she had to do. There would be no more trying, no more forcing herself to move on. She would remember him as he had been—wild, untamed, full of life, even in death.
And when the world grew too quiet, when the days grew too long, she would take out one of these letters and read it, just once more, and feel his presence beside her, even if only for a fleeting moment.
© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
#works!⟡࿔*:・゚#drew starkey#aesthetic#drew starkey imagine#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#obx fic#obx x reader#obx
111 notes
·
View notes
Note
Beel and mc first date short fic ✨
Our sweet boy Beel deserves all the love <3 Let's gooooo!
Characters: Beel x MC Sharing food as a love language, pure fluff. Did first kiss too, I hope that's okay! No warnings apply
This was a joke, right?
You were seeing things. You had to be seeing things.
There was in no way in all the three realms that Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony and Ruler of the Underworld, had just placed half of his gigadeath burger on your plate.
Half. 0.5. ½.
You weren’t sure his stomach could handle such deprivation! He was a growing demon! He needed his nutrients!
“What?” Beel paused his chewing, burger grease dripping down his fingers and onto the checkered parchment paper on the tray before him. “You’re not hungry?”
Eyes flitting from the burger - the frankly delicious burger oozing premium molten mozzarella, the cheese mingling with the juice pooling from the sizzling meat patty - to his concerned gaze, you wiped the drool from the corner of your lip and shook your head. “It’s not that. It’s just… Don’t you want your whole burger?”
It was cute, the way he cocked his head to the side. His fiery hair fell into his eyes for a moment, his slow blink drawing your attention to his dark eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest when he lifted his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “I want you to try it. It’s really good.”
“Are you sure?” Your devil nuggets called your name from their carton next to your soda. They were tasty, sure, but that burger looked like something else.
“Yeah,” He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you think we were only coming here tonight?”
The taste flooding your tongue - savory and salty with a crunch from the fixings cradled between two soft buns - was so overwhelming, you didn’t register his words. You were too busy relishing in the richness of the burger as it traveled down your throat and to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It didn’t even bother you that the patty was probably made from some weird Devildom animal that you would usually find unappetizing. The burger was too good to care.
Realization struck you like lightning from above. “Wait, what?”
It was not lost on you how Beel’s indigo gaze traced the tip of your tongue as you licked at the residual taste on your lips. Something unreadable lanced through his irises. Suddenly, it was awfully hard to meet his eyes, your heart firmly lodging itself in your throat.
Lazily nibbling on his last acidic hell fry, he suggested, “Want to have a campfire?”
“A campfire?” You echoed, ducking your head when you became self-conscious of your dumb expression.
His mind made up, he toweled off his greasy fingers and stood, the stool screeching against the wooden floors of Hell’s Kitchen. “Yeah,” Determination as sharp as his jaw set his brow into a deep furrow. “Come with me.”
Keeping up with Beelzebub on the hunt for food was easier than you had expected. Looming over most demons, his long legs gave him the ability to cover impressive distance with each step. However, you found it wasn’t difficult to wander the streets of the Devildom at his side. Maybe it was the way he moved slowly, with intention, as if he was trying to commit every second of this night to his memory. Maybe it was his big heart, always so considerate of those he cared about.
Maybe he was looking out for you, just as you always looked out for him. There was a reason you kept snacks on your person at all times, after all.
It had come as a surprise when Beel had requested your attendance for an impromptu dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. You had been drowning in homework, the sharp knock on your bedroom door startling you from your third attempt to actually absorb the words on the page in front of you.
“Hey, dinner tonight?” He had asked, so casually as if it was any other day.
“Sure,” You had smiled.
“Cool,” He had beamed that dazzling Beelzebub grin that stretched wide across his face. The one where you could count all of his sharp teeth. The one that creased his eyes into crescent moons and made your stomach twist into a pretzel. “It’s a date.”
You were pretty sure it had taken you at least five minutes to process the bomb he had dropped on you upon his exit. Another fifteen to find a suitable outfit - casual and comfortable, but also nice, you know? And you couldn’t possibly discount the solid forty minutes spent worrying over whether he was joking or being serious.
When he had met you in the entrance hall clad in his best jeans and a flattering, nice sweater, you felt the relief inflate your chest like a helium balloon.
And really, you still felt like you were walking on air. Even as you stood in the snacks aisle of a Devildom bodega, shying away from the unflattering glare of overhead fluorescent lights as Beel rifled through foil packaging with an intensity that you long learned accompanied his hunger.
He fought you tooth and nail at the register, amusement dancing upon his lips. “Why should you pay?”
“Because you bought dinner,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as if it would possibly make you more intimidating in the eyes of the 6’4” demon.
“Hmmm,” he mulled over your argument for a millisecond, just to lean down and blow a raspberry in your face. He smirked, “Nope.”
It caught you off guard, your face burning as bright as a screaming tomato. Brattiness was usually Belphie’s expertise.
Mischief melting into soft affection in his indigo gaze, fixed to you as the bodega clerk processed his payment, he ventured, “What if… you cover our next date?”
You liked the way the tips of his ears flushed, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shot you a sheepish, albeit genuine, smile.
“I think that would be fair.” A tickle spread across your cheeks, scrunching your nose and burning your skin.
Though, the heat from your flush had nothing on the warmth of the flames lapping at the inky Devildom sky. The embers shot like fireflies reaching for the stars, the campfire crackling within the confines of the pit, lined by rocks that would dwarf even Beelzebub’s palm. It had come as a surprise when Beel had led you off the beaten path, guiding you to a clearing in a forest not too far from the House of Lamentation. However, the secret fire pit made a lot more sense when he explained that it was typically reserved for stargazing with Belphie.
“Are those… rice krispie squares?” You asked, the pop of an adhesive seam wafting vanilla your way.
“They’re crackling mallow bars,�� Beel corrected, though there was no judgment in his tone. He had this way of introducing you to Devildom cuisine in a manner that felt familiar, like he understood that there were a lot of similarities between the dishes you knew. “They’re made up of marshmallows and these crispy marrow bits that are caramelized and -”
“Do they taste sweet?” You suppressed a grimace at the unappetizing description.
He chucked, the sound oozing reassurance, “Yes.”
“Okay, cool.” As he retrieved two long sticks, splitting into sharp prongs at the tip, nostalgia hit you like a truck. You hummed, “I used to eat something like this all the time when I was little.”
He raised a brow. “You’re still little.”
“Very funny.”
He laughed. Peeling the wrapper from two treats, he secured both on the ends of the sticks. “Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?”
“I never considered that. They would melt pretty fast, wouldn’t they?”
“You would think so,” He passed you a stick, eyes warm with encouragement and something akin to childlike awe, “But they actually hold up for a while.”
For a moment, it was quiet. Just you and Beel and the chirps of the hell crickets in the undergrowth. It was hard to pay attention to the way the sweet bars darkened, a char climbing up the chunks of… marrow, or whatever… when you could feel Beel’s eyes on you.
When you met his gaze, he was ready, already pulling the snack from his stick. “Here, try this.”
The marshmallow near compromised, the dessert fell apart in his large hands. Beel’s fingers tangled in sticky sweetness, you gasped in delight as strings of sugar stretched towards you with his gesture. “Oh, it’s so gooey!”
His smile was so big, so warm, and you had the sudden thought that if you were in Icarus’s shoes, you too would fly too close to the sun. He went to feed you the treat, laughing, “Open wide!”
The explosion of flavor on your tongue - hot and sweet with that smoky campfire accent - had you squirming in delight, a thrilled hum vibrating in your throat. You were grateful that Beel thought to remove your stick from the fire. You were far too occupied with your new favorite snack to notice it about to ignite.
Beel’s laughter died, his brow furrowing as conflict eclipsed the joy in his gaze. You looked to him, confused. “What?”
Had he always been that close? Had he been watching you with such longing this entire time?
“You’ve got a bit of marshmallow…” His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, eyes zeroing in on your lips. “Can I?”
You nodded. Your mouth was so dry, your pulse in your ears. With his nose nudging yours, you could taste the sweetness of the marshmallow treat on his breath, feel the way you were drawn closer like sticky sugar insistent on holding you together.
His lips brushed yours - soft and chaste. It was funny how a kiss so gentle could hold so much weight. Featherlight, a tender brush, and yet you felt as though the prints of his lips were engraved on yours forevermore.
“Mmm, tastes extra good,” he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over your skin, his eyes reading your soul as you leaned in to kiss him again. A peck to his lips, to his nose, to the apples of his cheeks.
“What are you thinking about?” You murmured, reveling in his proximity, his radiant warmth.
“Trying all my favorite foods off your lips,” He smiled, the twitch of his lips slotting against yours with such ease. “Think we could try that?”
“Sure,” You laughed, “It’s a date.”
*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜
this is low-key a love letter to burgers. My requests are open! Find more info HERE. Banner by @4laurus. Check out her work - and also her Beel.
#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel x reader#obey me beel x mc#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#my writing#aspiringtrashpanda#drabbles open#obey me fanfic
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
-where taking photos of idols turns into more that you ever would have guessed-
f!reader, sunoo x reader, fan x idol, fluff, meet cute, kissing
a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i hope you enjoy this fic i tried my best to make it cute and fluffy but it definitely gets raw and intimate towards the end, happy reading o(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)o
wc: 11.3k
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
you went to school for photography, photography had always been one of the loves of your life, you would see a scene and just have the urge to take a photo. although looking back, you almost regret getting your degree in it, people always say not to mix your passion and your work. you should have listened, photography is one of those professions where finding stable work feels like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. the industry is oversaturated, and the competition is fierce. jobs hard to score, and the pay is often inconsistent, making it hard to rely on it as a full-time career.
at the time, you were stuck working part-time at a mcdonald's in a rundown part of town. the job paid just enough to cover rent and bills, but the hours were long, the work was grueling, and the atmosphere was depressing. you had a camera, of course, but it felt more like a distant dream you once held as a naive college student than something real. that is, until one evening, when one of your coworkers - someone you didn’t really know that well - approached you with an unexpected proposition.
they had an idea - a suggestion so simple yet so completely outside the box that, at first, it felt almost too good to be true. you’d never considered anything like it before, it wasn’t a big corporate gig, or some trendy magazine cover shoot, or even a commissioned project for a local business. it wasn’t even a photoshoot in the typical sense, but that was exactly the point. it was something raw, something spontaneous, and - most importantly - a reason to use your camera again, reignite your childhood passion.
your coworker, the one you barely knew and could hardly remember the name of, was a fan of a particular idol. the idol wasn’t incredibly popular, they rarely made headlines but was a recognizable, familiar face, you had been interested in idol’s at one point but eventually had to abandon the hobby in favor of paying your bills. this idol was attending a private, high-profile event - an exclusive gathering with limited access - where fans rarely got the chance to meet them in person, let alone snap a photo.
somehow, your coworker had managed to get tickets to this event, which in itself was a pretty rare feat, they had an idea: "why don’t you come with me as my plus one?" they asked casually, almost as if they were offering you a ticket to a normal night out. but then came the twist. "i’ll pay you for the photos you take while we’re there. you know, of the idol. if you’re up for it."
the offer caught you off guard. at first, you weren’t sure if you heard them correctly, pay you? to take photos? of an idol? you had spent years hustling to scrape by, working part-time jobs just to keep the lights on. you’d never even thought about something like this - photographing an idol for money on the spot. there was always official photos, and some fans took photos from their phones, but going into these events with a nice, high end camera taking candid photos of idols, the idea wasn't necessarily ground breaking, people have done it before, but it made your heart beat a bit faster.
the more you thought about it, though, the more it seemed to make sense. here was a chance to finally break out of the routine you’d been stuck in. you could do something different, something that didn’t involve working under fluorescent lights flipping burgers at mcdonald's. it wasn’t a perfect opportunity, but it was an opportunity. something real, something that could get you one step closer to doing what you loved for a living.
sure, there was a risk. not getting good shots or you freezing up under the pressure. you weren’t sure, but then again, there wasn't anything to lose. it was a chance to take your photography out of the mundane and into the world of exclusive events, star power, and actual exposure - something you’d always dreamed about but never quite reached.
you agreed, of course. you had to. the idea, while risky and untraditional, was too intriguing to pass up. it wasn’t the glamorous photoshoot you’d always imagined, but maybe this could be your shot. so, you packed your camera and tagged along, unsure of what to expect but knowing that this could be the break you needed.
when you arrived at the event, the energy was electric—idols sitting at their tables ready to sign posters and chat with fans, photographers buzzing around, and security everywhere. you were just another face in the crowd, but with your camera in hand, you felt a strange sense of possibility. the idol you were there to photograph was charismatic, surrounded by an entourage, but the moment you snapped the first shot, it felt like the world had opened up in a way you hadn’t expected.
sure enough, the photos you took that night were more than just decent, they were actually pretty great. the light was perfect, the atmosphere electric, and the idol looked natural in front of the camera, by the time the night ended, you had a batch of photos that would go on to be worth more than you had imagined. it was in that moment that you realized how little you had known about the potential of your work. you had been so focused on following the traditional paths, waiting for commissions, applying for jobs that never seemed to come through, that you’d never considered going outside the box.
your coworker was absolutely thrilled with the photos you took. they couldn’t believe how good they turned out, and the way the idol had looked so natural and approachable in each shot. the pictures weren’t just great, they were special. your coworker practically couldn’t stop talking about them. the excitement in their voice was contagious, and you could tell they were more than just happy with what you'd done; they were impressed. they handed over the agreed payment, which was far more than you expected for something that felt like a spur-of-the-moment gig. you’d never made that much from photography in one night, it felt like you were finally reaching your dreams, it felt like you were finally being acknowledged for your passion.
the real surprise came a few hours later, when your coworker posted the photos on their social media account. They tagged the idol, shared a few behind-the-scenes captions, and - just like that - the photos took off. almost immediately, the reactions started pouring in. fans of the idol who had been eagerly following the event began commenting on the post, captivated by the authenticity and energy you had managed to capture. the photos weren’t just snapshots - they were a window into a moment, and it felt like people were getting a glimpse behind the idols polished public persona.
at first, the comments were more along the lines of casual appreciation like, ‘my bby looks so cutee’ or ‘the lighting on these OMG.’ But as the hours went by, something bigger started to happen. fans were flooding the post, asking for more. a few commented on how they’d never seen the idol look so relaxed or how these photos felt so much more real than the usual, heavily edited promotional shots they were used to seeing. then came the requests: ‘i LiTERALLY NEED MORE RN’ or ‘can you post more pics like these… i love the style of these pics’ others tagged their friends, begging them to look how great their bias looks. then, more offers to purchase came through.
One day at work, you coworker was talking to themself “i mean, these are really good,” they said, scrolling through the growing number of comments. “i bet people would pay for these. like, seriously.”
they were right. what had started as a casual favor to a coworker had quickly turned into something much bigger. the more your coworker engaged with the comments and shared the photos, the more requests started to come in - both from fans and even other photographers who wanted to know how you’d managed to capture such a raw, intimate vibe with the idol.
your coworker, now buzzing with new ideas, suggested something that would change the way you thought about your photography moving forward: “what if you could do this more often? go to events, take these candid shots, and sell them to fans? it’s like, exclusive content. i know so many people who would eat it up.” it was a wild idea, but as they continued to scroll through the endless stream of enthusiastic comments, you couldn’t deny it - there was something there. something more than just a one-time gig, and secretly you looked forward to going to another event to take photos. seeing the idols was breathtaking. at the time you had been so caught up in your camera you forgot where you were, who you were actually seeing. you could feel the happiness growing in your chest as you thought about that day.
that moment, when your photos started to go viral, you realized just how much potential there was in capturing these raw, behind-the-scenes glimpses of idol life, it wasnt that you wanted to stalk them home or anything, but being able to capture their raw emotions at events, the real them, excited you beyond belief. it wasn’t about posing for the camera, it wasn’t about perfection - it was about getting a fleeting, authentic moment and making it available to the people who longed for it. you had even longed for it yourself, and sharing it with others was such a great feeling.
the more you thought about it, the clearer it became, why not take this momentum and build something on your own? you didn’t need a fancy studio or a corporate client to make a living as a photographer. the fans had spoken loud and clear; they wanted real, behind-the-scenes moments, glimpses of their favorite idols captured in an authentic way. So, you decided to seize that demand, and to evolve your approach.
the first step was creating an online platform - a website, a social media page where you could post and sell your photos directly. it was a relatively simple concept, but it gave you control over your work. no middlemen, no agencies, no waiting around for a call back. just you, your camera, and the people who appreciated what you were capturing. the platform would allow fans to request specific photos they wanted, and you could price them fairly based on the level of access and the quality of the shot.
you didn’t have to reinvent the wheel, there were plenty of online photography stores, but what made yours different was the personal, exclusive nature of the photos. the idea was to capture the moments that no one else was - candid shots, spontaneous interactions, and moments that felt intimate or unguarded. tt wasn’t about just selling any photo; it was about selling the photo, the one that told a story or showed a side of the idols their fans had never seen before.
the next step was gaining access to more events. you’d have to be creative, find ways into concerts, premieres, fan meet, maybe even award shows, or private parties where idols were likely to show up. this meant networking, finding connections, and sometimes even pulling a few favors, but you learned quickly that where there’s a will, there’s a way. whether it was through your coworkers, friends of friends, or even just by paying attention to social media and learning about events before they happened, you became skilled at getting your foot in the door.
once you were in, it was all about capturing those moments. you’d snap a few candid shots, focusing on moments where the idol was relaxed, in a natural environment. you’d also make sure to get a couple of highly polished, high-quality images to use as teasers. it was all about creating anticipation. you’d post a few shots on social media, teasing the full set of photos, and maybe even share a quick, behind-the-scenes video or an outtake to drum up interest. the goal was to make the fans feel like they were getting an inside look into the world of their favorite idol, something they couldn’t get anywhere else.
the best part? the fans responded just as they had before, eager, excited, and hungry for more. the teaser posts on social media would ignite the excitement, with fans commenting, sharing, and tagging others. requests would pour in, ‘he looks so hot here, i want moree’ or ‘i need the entire set or i might just break down’ the beauty of this model was that it wasn’t about a few one-off sales—it was about building a relationship with a community. as you gained more followers and more fans, it became a cycle. you would post teasers, people would request more, and you could offer them full, high-quality images for a fair price.
as time passed, your online platform began to grow. word of mouth spread, and more fans began reaching out. you found yourself getting access to bigger events, seeing familiar names pop up in your inbox, and even having idols or their teams inquire about using some of your shots for their own promotional purposes. each new photo was a stepping stone, each set you posted was not just a transaction, but an opportunity to connect with your audience and further build your brand.
being an idol fan yourself, this entire experience felt like a dream come true. you had spent so many years admiring these idols from afar, watching them shine in the spotlight, and now you were not only in the same rooms as them but capturing intimate moments of their lives through your lens. after being broke and not having any time to keep up with them, to being so close to them and actively in their world was incredible. the fact that you were interacting with the people you once looked up to - and even more incredibly, that they were appreciating your work - was surreal. it wasn’t just about taking photos anymore; it was about sharing the same energy, the same excitement, and being able to offer something special to other fans who shared that same passion. you were no longer just a passive admirer, you were now creating something that allowed others to connect with the idols you loved so much.
as your platform grew in visibility, so did your reputation. word spread quickly, and what started as a small side hustle became something much bigger. you became a recognized name in the idol photography world, known for your unique, authentic approach to capturing moments that no one else was able to.
one of the benefits of your approach to this whole new life was the anonymity it afforded you. no one knew your face, and that made all the difference. you could attend high-profile events, interact with the idols, and enjoy the atmosphere without the pressure of being recognized or approached. you were able to experience these moments as both a fan and a professional, without the hassle of the typical fan interaction. there was no need for the autograph hunts or trying to get the perfect selfie; instead, you had the freedom to enjoy the event, capture meaningful moments, and leave without the distraction of unwanted attention. it was the ideal solution - living the dream of being close to the stars, but still having the privacy and space to appreciate it on your own terms. it felt like the perfect balance between work and passion, what you had always dreamed of.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
it was supposed to be a normal event, just a fan meet, nothing too fancy, nothing too extravagant. you’d been to these kinds of things before, but this time you had put a little more effort into your outfit. you reached into the back of your closet and pulled out a blouse that felt just right, simple but elegant. you paired it with a cute black pleated mini skirt that gave off just the right vibe, mature, yet playful and cool. you accessorized it with a delicate necklace and some minimalistic earrings, thinking you looked polished without being overdone. you felt good about it, maybe even a little proud. this was your chance to blend in with the crowd but still stand out, to look like you knew what you were doing, like you belonged here.
but, of course, it was just your luck that, within the first five minutes of arriving, disaster struck. you hadn’t even made it past the entrance when you bumped into someone - just a girl in a hurry, not really paying attention. in the blink of an eye, her coffee went flying, splashing all over your pristine white blouse. your stomach dropped. of course, the one thing you had worked so hard to get right - your outfit - was ruined. the girl immediately started apologizing, her face flushed with embarrassment, but you waved it off, trying to brush it off as no big deal. "it’s fine, really," you assured her, even though your mind was racing. you just needed to get to a bathroom, quickly, before the stain set in and ruined your entire day.
you made your way toward the restrooms, hoping to fix things up. but, as luck would have it, the first two bathrooms you found were packed with girls, all standing in front of the mirrors, touching up their makeup, chatting, or taking selfies. there was no space for you to even get close to a sink, let alone grab some paper towels and start trying to clean up the mess. the minutes ticked by, frustration mounting as you realized that every second you spent standing around, the stain was likely becoming more permanent. finally, when you thought things couldn’t get worse, you spotted an empty bathroom at the end of the hallway - an oasis in your streak of bad luck. no one was around, the door was open, and you rushed toward it with relief, thinking you might still salvage your blouse.
in your rush to get inside and fix things, you completely missed the sign posted outside the door. a simple, overlooked word, mens. you didn’t even register it before you burst into the bathroom. you grabbed a handful of paper towels, dampened them with water, and began dabbing at the stain with the urgency of someone trying to undo a mistake. it was already too late - the coffee had soaked in, and now you could only hope to minimize the damage. You could feel your heart pounding, trying to keep calm as you worked, praying that no one would walk in and catch you in the middle of your panic.
a toilet flushed behind you, its sound startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet bathroom. you were so absorbed in your task, desperately rubbing at the coffee stain with a damp paper towel, that you didn’t even register the sound at first. your focus was on nothing but trying to salvage your blouse, one dab at a time. the stain seemed to mock your efforts, refusing to lift. you were lost in the rhythm of it - dabbing, dabbing, dabbing - when suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke your concentration. a man’s shoes tapped lightly against the tile floor, and before you could react, he was standing next to you, casually washing his hands at the sink.
it wasn’t until he looked up at the mirror that you noticed him. his eyes locked onto your reflection, and a squeak - more of a startled gasp - escaped his mouth. the noise was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and without thinking, you whipped your head around to see what had caused the reaction. the instant you turned, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach dropped, and you realized, you’re in the wrong bathroom. your pulse spiked as your mind raced, the embarrassing realization dawning on you at the worst possible moment.
for a brief, breathless second, there was complete silence between the two of you. your eyes widened, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a shriek of your own - a high-pitched gasp of shock and embarrassment that echoed off the walls. the man froze, hands still hovering over the sink, clearly just as surprised as you were. the realization that you had just walked into a men’s bathroom, had been standing right next to him, not even noticing until now, it hit you all at once. your face drained of color, and a flush of mortification spread across your skin, from your neck to the tips of your ears. you wanted to sink through the floor, to disappear entirely, but all you could do was stand there, paralyzed in the awkwardness of the moment.
the man, equally stunned, stared at you for a long, excruciating beat, before his face turned a shade of red that could rival yours. every fiber of your being screamed to just run out of the bathroom, but you were frozen in place, desperately trying to act like you weren’t a complete disaster. you slowly took a step back, hoping to salvage what was left of your dignity - and maybe just run away before you could cause any more damage.
"i-i’m sorry," you stammer out, your voice faltering as your face burns with embarrassment. "i was in such a hurry i didn’t realize..."
"it’s okay," he replies, still blushing as he glances down at your blouse, his eyes briefly lingering on the stain. "you, uh... look like you’re dealing with quite the mess there."
"yeah... today is just a disaster," you admit with a sigh, your frustration evident in your tone.
he gives you a sympathetic look, then hesitates for a second, as though considering the best way to help. "it probably won’t come out with just water at this point," he observes, his voice trailing off as if he’s thinking through the best solution. without warning, he unzips his hoodie and pulls it off, handing it to you with a slight, sheepish smile. "here, use this. it should cover up the stain," he says, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents as he smiles at you.
you blink in surprise for a moment, caught off guard by his kindness. "thanks," you reply, your voice soft, and you quickly slip the hoodie on, zipping it up. it’s a little big on you, but it feels warm and comforting, and you can’t help but return his smile, feeling a small spark of connection in the midst of your awkward situation.
"hey," he says, his voice hesitating for a moment, like he’s unsure of how to proceed. "i know this is kind of random, but… could i get your number? or, like, your instagram or something?" he looks sheepish, clearly embarrassed about asking, and you can’t help but find his shyness endearing.
you smile, feeling the awkwardness melt a little. "sure," you say, your heart beating just a little faster. he passes you his phone, opening a new contact, and you quickly type in your name and number. your fingers move quickly, but it feels like time slows down as you finish and hand the phone back to him.
"so, your name’s y/n?" he says, his eyes bright as he glances at the screen. "it’s pretty." he smiles again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment.
"thanks," you reply, feeling a little giddy despite yourself. "well, anyway, it was fun meeting you." you let out a small laugh, trying to diffuse some of the lingering awkwardness between you two. "i’d better get going so i don’t miss the start," you add, raising your camera to gesture to the event outside. "i’ve got photos i need to take, and fans i have to feed."
he chuckles, nodding in agreement. "yeah, fans have been pretty starving for photos lately."
you hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to leave or say something else. you stand there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, but decide to settle on something that feels right in the moment. slowly, you back toward the door, giving him an awkward wave and a smile. "text me," you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can overthink it.
he grins, his eyes still crinkling with amusement as you turn to leave. "i will."
as soon as the door closes behind you, you collapse against the nearest wall, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest. the rush of adrenaline, combined with the sheer mortification of walking into the wrong bathroom, has your pulse racing, but now there's something else, too. the encounter - the way he smiled at you, how effortlessly kind he was, the way your conversation flowed once the awkwardness wore off—it’s all a whirlwind in your mind. and then, there’s the fact that you’d just met the cutest guy you’ve seen in forever, and he’d asked for your number. your face feels like it's on fire, but there’s a grin spreading across your face anyway.
you squint up at the ceiling and slowly squat down into a little ball, clutching the wall for support as your heart continues to beat like a drum. the hoodie he’d given you smells faintly like him - fresh, with a hint of something sweet and comforting - and you close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to savor the feeling. the moment feels so surreal, so unreal, but you can’t help but feel like it’s the start of something unexpected.
for a moment, you allow yourself to daydream, imagining the possibilities. your heart is still racing, and it feels like it might actually burst from the excitement. you can hardly believe it - what are the odds? a mistake, a coffee stain, and suddenly you're having this perfect, bizarre, heart-thumping interaction with someone who, in any other situation, you might have never crossed paths with. if this keeps up, you might literally die from a heart attack - your heart can’t seem to slow down, and you can’t stop grinning like an idiot.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
sunoo collapses against the sink, heart pounding in his chest, face flushed from the unexpected encounter. at first, when he saw her - y/n - he had just assumed she was some overzealous fan trying to snap pictures of him in the bathroom, which, crazy as it sounded, had happened before. it was a wild situation to even think about, but it wasn’t totally unheard of. the thought that she might be after some candid shot of him in a vulnerable moment made his skin crawl. but then he had noticed something that completely threw him off: she wasn’t even looking at him. instead, she was fixated on something else—the stain on her shirt. there was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes, no sign that she had any clue who he was. the realization hit him in an instant—she wasn’t here for him at all.
the more he watched her, the more he saw her quietly trying to clean up the mess, the more he found himself charmed by her. when she realized she’d walked into the wrong bathroom, it was so obvious how mortified she was. her face turned the brightest shade of red, and she stammered out an apology, looking like she might just melt into the floor. it was almost adorable. instead of being embarrassed for himself, he couldn’t help but find her genuine discomfort endearing. and on top of that, the way she casually interacted with him - it was like she had no idea who he was. no fandom craziness, no over-the-top fan-girling. just... a normal conversation between two strangers. it was refreshing in a way he hadn’t expected.
on a sudden impulse, he’d asked for her number. it felt like the most natural thing in the world. how could he not? a stunning, confident girl who was totally his type had just wandered into his life by accident. dating someone while being an idol was looked down upon, but as long as he hid it well it would be fine, it wasn’t even like he was the first in the group to get a girlfriend. heeseung had had a girlfriend before, and the members had all been through their fair share of relationships. still, the thought of a girl not knowing who he was felt almost unreal. he hoped she wouldn’t find out and suddenly treat him like a celebrity, though. it would definitely complicate things.he hoped when she learned that he was part of enhypen, the group she was supposed to be taking photos for, things wouldn't get weird. he hoped she wouldn’t suddenly act awkward or distant. he just wanted to be seen as... well, just him, the real sunoo, and despite his usual confidence about his appearance, he found himself hoping she would find him attractive, something he had never worried about before.
he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. things had been going so well, but now the uncertainty was creeping in. would she text him back? would she even remember him the way he remembered her? maybe he was overthinking it. he was always so fixated on how he looked, how others saw him. but with her, it felt different. like it wasn't just about appearance, but about a genuine connection. the last thing he wanted was for that to get ruined by the whole idol thing. the thought of her walking away, thinking he was just another fan-chasing idol, made his stomach churn. but all he could do now was wait and hope.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
on your way to the main event, you spot a merch table tucked off to the side. surprisingly, the line is practically nonexistent—something that’s unheard of at events like this. on impulse, you decide to hop in the short line, intrigued by the merchandise on display. as you glance over the items, your eyes land on a pretty album titled simply ‘romance untold’. it looks cute, with soft, pastel-colored artwork and a sweet, romantic vibe. even though you have no idea what the idols look like yet, you feel a tug of curiosity. there’s something about the way the album is presented that draws you in. you’re sure you’ll fall in love with the group once you see them today, and it’ll be the perfect thing to flip through when you get home, a little memento of the day.
after making the quick purchase, you make your way into the main event space. you find a spot near the edge of the room, a nice angle where you can get some great shots of the idols. the excitement in the air is palpable, and the sea of eager fans around you buzzes with anticipation. you try to ignore the faint sense of discomfort as the crowd surges forward, pushing their way closer to the front. it’s always like this at big events - everyone wanting to be as close as possible, desperate for that connection with the stars they adore. you can’t help but feel a little bad for the boys, though. constantly surrounded by this intensity, always being viewed as more of a commodity than as people. of course, you know there are fans who genuinely care about their personalities, who want to see the candid moments behind the performance. but it’s hard to ignore the way others only see them for their fame. it must be exhausting, being unable to have a real, personal connection when you’re constantly on display.
the event officially kicks off when the boys walk on stage, and the crowd erupts in deafening screams, fans shrieking in excitement. you raise your camera instinctively, ready to catch the perfect shot. but as the boys make their way across the stage, your eyes widen in disbelief. standing right there, just a few feet in front of you, is the cute boy you met in the bathroom earlier. it’s him. the same boy, the one who had helped you with your coffee stain and awkwardly asked for your number. he’s up on stage now, dressed in a sleek stage outfit, his smile shining as the crowd goes wild for him. you freeze, your heart thumping as you realize the person you’d spoken to in such an unexpected, ordinary setting was a part of this incredibly popular group, standing in front of thousands of adoring fans.
your fingers hover over the camera, caught between snapping a picture of him on stage and trying to process the surreal realization. he's an idol. you can't help but feel a mix of emotions, shock, excitement, and maybe even a little disbelief. everything from the moment you met him in the bathroom suddenly feels like it was all leading to this. and now, as you watch him interact with the crowd, you can’t help but wonder if he remembers you - or if your interaction was just one fleeting moment, lost in the sea of faces he meets every day. either way, you can't deny it - seeing him up there, doing what he loves, surrounded by the energy of his fans, makes him all the more captivating.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You get home to your small studio apartment that night with a jumble of feelings in your stomach, you really aren't sure how to feel about this whole situation. you can’t help but smile, remembering how he’d been so cute, but also completely sweet, offering you his hoodie as you stammered through an apology. for those few minutes, he was just a friendly, kind stranger who made you feel like a bit of a mess.
seeing him later on stage was like looking at an entirely different person. the easygoing, endearing guy you’d met in the bathroom had somehow transformed into a star everyone had come to see. the cheers, the eyes on him… it was like watching two different versions of the same person, both mesmerizing but worlds apart.
you wander to the tiny kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water, glancing at your camera where all those shots are stored - photos of the day, of him, some of his group mates too, but while at the event your camera couldn't help drifting to take more shots of him. you’ve always had an eye for capturing people in the in-between, those glimpses when they forget about the camera and just are, having those photos of him felt intimate and you almost didn't want to share them.
you settle into an armchair by the window, watching the glow of the city outside. tomorrow, the photos will be waiting, and maybe when you look, you’ll find the boy from the bathroom shining through the idol on stage. for now, you close your eyes, feeling his kindness settle like a secret between you both.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
a notification on your phone startles you awake, and you realize you’d fallen asleep in your armchair while trying to detangle the events of the day. the screen casts a faint glow in the dim room, and you blink a few times, getting your bearings. ten pm. not too late, but late enough that you’d be dragging tomorrow. you pick up your phone and open the notification—a text from an unknown number. your heart skips, then flutters just a bit.
unknown: hey, it's late but i wanted to text you. i hope i didn’t freak you out too much when you saw me on stage today, and i’m sorry i didn’t say anything… it was just so nice meeting you without all the screaming, you know?
a smile spreads across your face as you read it. the way he texted was just like how he talked - a bit of a ramble, slightly scattered, but somehow so sweet. he was trying to explain himself, worried he might’ve left you confused, even a little hurt. but underneath the words was that same earnest charm you’d seen in his eyes back in the bathroom, that natural warmth he’d shown before you’d known who he really was.
you type back, fingers moving faster than your sleepy brain can keep up.
you: well, it was definitely a shock, but once i got over it, i think i actually managed to get some good photos haha
a pause, and then you bite your lip, feeling that tug of nervous excitement. he’d reached out - he hadn’t had to, but he did. part of you wants to say something clever, something that hints at how surreal the whole day has felt, but instead, you decide to let the moment be simple.
his next reply comes almost instantly.
unknown: can i see them sometime? the photos, i mean. it’d be fun to see your side of the day :)
another rush of warmth fills your chest. he wants to see your work. you quickly save his number, tapping in a name that feels right, even if it’s a little embarrassing: my cutie. maybe it’s cheesy, maybe even cringe, but it fits him somehow - the endearing guy behind the idol.
before you can think twice, you hit send.
you: absolutely! i’ll go easy on you and choose only the coolest shots… mostly.
my cutie: so merciful 😌
you laugh, covering your mouth as if he could hear you from miles away. the way he teased you, with that same lightheartedness, made it easy to forget who he was. at this moment, he wasn’t an idol, a star, or even the guy in your photos. he was just someone who’d crossed your path in the most unexpected way.
you lean back, watching the messages pop up one by one, each more endearing than the last. it’s not long before the clock creeps past midnight, and you’re still talking—about everything and nothing. he tells you about the foods he misses from home, you tell him about the weirdest photoshoots you’ve done. eventually, his last text appears on the screen, the letters a bit more spaced out as though he’s getting sleepy too.
my cutie: hey, don’t think too much about today, alright? i liked meeting you… just you. i hope you can think of me like that, not all this other stuff. sleep well, my photographer :)
you stare at the screen, reading the words over and over, your eyes catching on the last two words, my photographer. Maybe you were reading into it, but your heart raced and a blush creeped up your face
you: sweet dreams..
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
you woke up the next morning with a dull headache, the kind that reminded you you’d stayed up way too late. the soft morning light filtering through your curtains did little to ease the fog in your mind as you sat up and rubbed your temples. you really shouldn’t have stayed up so late. the night had been a blur of messages and thoughts, and now, in the quiet of the morning, it all felt almost surreal. your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the previous night, replaying the texts and wondering if it was all real.
you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and unlocked it, scrolling through your messages. sure enough, there it was - your conversation with him, still fresh on the screen. your heart skipped a beat as your eyes scanned his words, and a flutter of giddiness spread through your chest. it was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time, something light and warm that made you smile to yourself like you were holding onto a secret.
you stretched and groaned softly, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, but the thought of him made it hard to focus on anything else. after a few more minutes of half-hearted attempts to wake up, you started getting ready for the event you had scheduled today. normally, you'd feel excited to be at another idol meet, camera in hand, ready to catch those perfect moments. but today, something was different. you were a lot less excited about meeting the idols after meeting him. sunoo, with his sweet messages and even sweeter personality, had somehow made the whole idol experience feel less… important. how could you focus on anyone else when he was already occupying so much of your thoughts?
still, you pulled yourself together, slipping into your outfit and grabbing your gear. you left the house and made your way to the venue, your usual excitement returning as you walked through the crowds of fans, eager to capture the perfect moments for fans. you focused on your work as best you could, snapping photos with precision, but a part of your mind was always wandering back to the messages with him. your fingers hovered over your camera, your heart racing every time you thought of the next time you’d get to talk to him again.
the day passed in a blur, each hour slipping by faster than the last. by the time you got home, you could barely keep your eyes open, but there was something more pressing than rest now, you needed to go through the photos. you decided to post a few teaser shots on your instagram, and checking your website to see if there were any new purchases. it was something you did every day, a small ritual, but today it felt like the least important thing on your mind.
after a quick check of your sales, you set your phone down and settled onto the couch for a while. your excitement for the evening overtaking the exhaustion from the day, you picked up your phone again, your fingers itching to text him, to pick up where you left off. you couldn’t help but feel hopeful about the possibility of talking to him for hours, the way he made you laugh and made you feel seen - even if it was all still so new.
you jumped as the phone in your hand vibrated, the sudden buzz breaking the silence of the room. you glanced down, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw the name on the screen.
my cutie: hey, you free?
your heart fluttered. it was funny, you’d been just about to send him a message yourself, and now here he was, texting you first. you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the thought.
you: yeah, what's up?
there was a short pause before his reply came through. you could almost imagine him typing, fingers hesitating over the keys, like he was still unsure.
my cutie: well, nothing really, just wanted to talk to you again…
your heart skipped a beat at his words. it was so simple, but the way he said it made you feel… special. he wanted to talk to you again. you smiled to yourself, feeling that warmth bubble up inside.
you: that's fine with me haha, so how was your day?
there was a brief pause before he replied, and when his message came through, it felt so… gentle. his words were easy, like you were two old friends catching up after a long day.
my cutie: pretty good, actually. spent most of the day rehearsing, but it wasn’t too bad. honestly, it was nice to have a quiet day after all the craziness, and i kept thinking how nice it would be to talk to you again. so here i am. 😊
your heart skipped a beat. the way he said it was so sweet, and it made you feel like you were part of his day, something he looked forward to. you couldn’t help but smile as you typed your reply.
you: haha, glad! my day was pretty normal - took a bunch of photos, posted some stuff online… just the usual grind. but talking to you now is definitely the highlight of my day.
you paused, then added another message
you: so, what did you get up to today besides being a super idol lol
a beat passed, and you could almost hear his laugh through the phone. when his reply came, it was exactly the kind of sweet, teasing tone you’d hoped for.
my cutie: oh, you know, just being a super idol... rehearsing, eating my weight in snacks, pretending to be a professional 😅 but honestly, i was kinda looking forward to this all day.
you laughed,
you: i bet the snacks were more important than rehearsal, at least they would be for me haha
my cutie: hey, snacks are an essential part of the idol lifestyle! gotta keep the energy up, right :)
you laughed out loud, feeling completely at ease now, like you’d known him far longer than you actually had. the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, natural and comfortable, and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of it. everything felt so normal despite everything that made this situation anything but.
you: i’m sure the snacks were well worth it. so, do you often just, like, have an evening off where you can do nothing?
my cutie: ha, you have no idea how rare that is. but, yeah, i get the occasional evening off. Although i usually just lay on the couch, eating snacks, and watching k dramas. sometimes i just need to forget for a bit.
you: sounds pretty perfect, honestly. no better way to recharge.
there was a brief pause, and when his message came through, it was a little more thoughtful than the previous ones.
my cutie: yeah, it is. but honestly, talking to you like this is kinda the best recharge i’ve had in a while.
he quickly sent another message
my cutie: actually… i was wondering… how would you feel about meeting up sometime? we could, you know, hang out. maybe grab some food or something, just the two of us?
you blinked at the screen, your heart racing. it was such a simple invitation, yet it made your stomach flutter with excitement. He wanted to spend time with you, just the two of you. you quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving faster than you could think.
you: i’d love that. when were you thinking?
the reply came almost instantly, his message light and happy.
my cutie: how about this weekend? we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.
your heart skipped a beat at the idea of finally meeting him in person. it felt like everything was falling into place, and you couldn’t wait to share that moment with him.
you: that sounds perfect. i’m honestly so excited for it. 😊
my cutie: i’m really looking forward to it too. we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.
his words felt so relaxed and sweet, and the thought of a simple, carefree time together made your heart swell with affection.
you: can’t wait! talk soon, cutie. 😊
my cutie: talk soon! get some rest, okay? i’ll be thinking about you. 😌
You blush as you realize you called him a cutie over text. it wasn’t just a passing thought - no, you actually typed it out and sent it to him. You basically called him a cutie to his face, albeit through a screen, and now you're not sure if you're more embarrassed by the words or how quickly they slipped out.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
sunoo was lying on the couch, completely sprawled out, his legs draped lazily over the armrest as he kicked his feet and grinned at his phone. he felt like a teenage girl, the way he was giddily tapping away, heart fluttering with every message from y/n. it was all so… effortless. so natural. talking to her felt like slipping into a warm blanket, and no matter how many times they texted, it never felt boring or dull. she was just so perfect in his eyes, so easy to talk to. the way she made him feel special without even trying, how her words were like little sparks of joy that lit up his day... he couldn’t help but smile at the screen, his heart swelling in his chest.
the conversations were always light, casual - never forced, always just right. but beneath the surface, sunoo felt something more. every message, every response, was like a sweet little secret they shared, even if neither of them had said it out loud yet. he was starting to realize he was way too invested, maybe even falling for her without meaning to. it was becoming obvious to him, but he still hadn’t figured out how to make her see it.
his heart skipped a beat when he thought back to last night - he’d worked up the courage to ask her to meet up this weekend. well, he hadn’t exactly called it a date - he didn’t want to scare her off - but he had definitely dropped enough hints, he felt his face heat up at the memory of how nervous he’d been.
as excited as he was, there was a wave of uncertainty. he was so down bad for her, so caught up in these feelings that he couldn’t quite control. the reality of it hit him in waves, especially when he realized just how badly he was falling for this perfect woman. he couldn’t help but feel like he was a little out of his depth.
it had been so quick, but it felt so right. every time he saw her name pop up on his phone, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. and the best part was, she seemed just as genuine, just as real as when they first met, she always treated him like a real person, like he wasn't a global superstar, it was nice. and yet, there was still that little doubt gnawing at him. was she feeling the same way, or was he reading too much into their conversations? it didn’t help that his group members were starting to catch on. they’d tease him relentlessly, calling him out when he’d get all starry-eyed and distracted.
sometimes, when they all gathered together, they’d look at him with knowing smirks, teasing him even more. but it wasn’t just his groupmates that were noticing. he couldn’t help it, he just stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop replaying their conversations in his head, imagining how things could unfold if they really took a step forward. it was terrifying and thrilling all at once.
and despite all that nervousness, that overwhelming feeling of uncertainty, sunoo couldn’t help but get even more excited. maybe it was reckless, maybe he should take it slow, but when it came to her, all he could think was what if… what if she felt the same way?
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
you woke up early on sunday, excitement buzzing in your chest. you knew today was the day. you wanted everything to be perfect - especially the way you looked. it was silly, you told yourself. you wanted him to like you for you, for the person you truly were, not just the way you looked. but still, there was that little part of you that wanted to catch his eye, make him think you were cute, maybe even a little alluring. just the thought of him noticing you in that way made your heart flutter.
you picked out a soft, fuzzy sweater that felt like a warm hug, paired it with a cute skirt and tights, something simple but put-together. it wasn’t over-the-top, just enough to feel confident, maybe even a little special. you took a few moments to do your makeup, just enough to highlight your features but not make it obvious. you wanted to look effortless, but also effortlessly cute. after a quick check in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, checked the time, and rushed out the door, heart racing with anticipation.
the coffee shop was just a short walk away, and you arrived a little earlier than you had planned. upon checking your phone, you realized you had arrived twenty minutes early. you smiled to yourself, relieved that you had plenty of time to settle in. you thought about grabbing a table to wait for him, maybe look over the menu or just check your messages, but when you walked in, your eyes immediately landed on him.
there he was, sitting at a small table by the window, already looking at you with those warm eyes, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. just like the first day you saw him, he looked effortlessly cute - his hair a little messy in that endearing way, his smile soft and inviting. he’s already here? your heart skipped a beat as your own cheeks flushed, warmth spreading across your face.
for a moment, you just stood there, taking in the sight of him, suddenly unsure of yourself. was he waiting for you? was he nervous too? but before you could think too much, your legs carried you toward the table. you smiled nervously, trying to keep your cool as you sat down across from him. you sat down across from sunoo, the nervous energy in the air palpable. there was a slight flush on his cheeks, the same adorable color you saw the first time you met him, and the way he smiled at you made your heart flutter.
“hey,” you said softly, smiling as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you’re here.”
“me too,” sunoo replied, his voice a little breathless. he adjusted in his seat, fidgeting with his cup before looking back at you, his eyes soft. “i, uh… i hope i’m not making things awkward. i don’t really do this often, you know? go out on, um, dates…” he trailed off, clearly trying to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. it was endearing. the way his words came out, a little stilted and unsure, but with a warmth that made you feel safe.
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling your nerves settle a bit. “it’s okay,” you said gently, reaching for your drink. “i’m nervous too, honestly. but it’s nice, right? just getting to know each other in a quiet, relaxed place.”
sunoo nodded eagerly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah, i agree. i like this. it’s nice not having to worry about people... you know, staring at us, or... getting distracted.”
the way he said it, so simple, made you feel a sense of calm. the pressure was off. it was just the two of you. the conversation flowed easily after that, like old friends catching up. you talked about everything—the coffee shop, your favorite books, movies, random little things that made you laugh. time seemed to slow down, and the more you learned about him, the more you liked him.
as the conversation continued, sunoo’s nervous energy seemed to settle, and he started to relax more, his gestures becoming a little more fluid. you noticed how his hands would gesture softly when he talked about something he loved, and how his eyes sparkled when he smiled at you. there was something magnetic about him, even in the small, intimate moments.
after a while, you both finished your drinks, and sunoo suggested moving on to the second part of the day. “so, i was thinking... do you want to go to the aquarium after this? i know it’s a little cliche, but i think it could be fun.” he looked at you with those wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for your response.
you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth fill your chest. “that sounds perfect. i love aquariums. it’s kind of romantic too, don’t you think? all those beautiful fish, soft lighting... it could be peaceful.”
sunoo’s face lit up. “yeah! exactly! i thought it might be nice, too.”
you both stood and walked out of the coffee shop together, the air crisp against your skin. sunoo seemed to walk a little closer to you now, and you couldn’t help but notice how your arms brushed occasionally. you could feel the electricity in the air—those small moments of closeness that made everything feel more meaningful.
when you arrived at the aquarium, the dim lighting and soothing sounds of water immediately set the tone. it was quieter here, peaceful. the gentle sway of the sea creatures and the soft glow of the tanks made everything feel almost dreamlike. as you strolled through the exhibits, you found yourselves walking slowly, side by side. sunoo kept glancing over at you, a soft smile on his face.
“this is nice,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “i’m glad we did this. it’s just… calm. and we can just… talk, you know? no pressure.”
you nodded, your heart swelling. “yeah, i feel the same. it’s nice to be able to take it slow. no rushing.”
there was a slight pause, the quiet around you only amplified by the soft bubbling of the water in the tanks. you stopped in front of a large tank filled with glowing jellyfish, their bodies floating gracefully. the soft light made everything feel even more serene. sunoo glanced at you and then at the jellyfish, his voice barely above a whisper.
“i think i like that about you,” he said, his words a little hesitant but so genuine. “you make me feel like i can just be myself around you.”
you looked at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. your heart skipped a beat as you realized how much it meant to share this moment together, you responded softly, your gaze meeting his a slight smile on your lips, “i’m really glad i’m here, with you.”
sunoo’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips curled into a small, shy smile. “me too. i didn’t think it’d feel this… nice. i guess i was kind of nervous, but now…” he trailed off, taking a small step closer. “i don’t want this to end, you know?”
you could feel your breath catch at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out gently, brushing your fingers against his hand. his eyes flickered down to your hand, then back to your face, a soft blush creeping up his neck. “i don’t either,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “i like this. being with you.”
there was a moment of silence, the world around you fading into the background as you both stood there, just looking at each other. the soft glow of the aquarium illuminated his face, and for a second, you felt like you were the only two people in the world. everything felt so simple, yet so perfect.
sunoo took a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something. “do you maybe… want to do this again sometime? i mean, not the aquarium. but… you know. like, a real date. with you.”
your heart skipped, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “i’d like that,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. “i really would.”
sunoo smiled back, the shy, endearing boy you’d come to know so well, and for a moment, it felt like everything was falling perfectly into place. the date was everything you had hoped for - and more.
✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
you left the aquarium, your mind still buzzing from the experience, but there was something else now - an undeniable tension in the air between you two. it felt different, almost electric. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but every time your hands brushed, it felt like something more than just a coincidence.
then, as you walked side by side down the sidewalk, sunoo’s hand gently found its way into yours. the warmth of his fingers wrapping around yours made your heart skip a beat. you didn’t even have time to process the action before a blush crept up your cheeks. looking over at him, you noticed his cheeks were flushed too, and his eyes were slightly widened, almost like he was still surprised by his own boldness. it was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen.
the two of you continued walking, your steps a little slower, savoring the moment. when you reached a quieter part of the sidewalk, you stopped and turned to face him. sunoo paused too, his eyes searching yours with a hint of curiosity.
you felt your heart race, your mouth suddenly dry. "i was wondering..." you started, unsure of how to phrase it, the words coming out more nervously than you intended. "would you want to come over and watch a movie?"
as the question left your mouth, you immediately felt heat rise in your face. it sounded so simple in your head, but now that it was out in the open, it felt much more vulnerable. “i-i’m just not sure i want today to end yet,” you mumbled, barely able to make eye contact, your blush deepening.
for a moment, the air seemed to hold its breath, and you were starting to feel like maybe you’d overstepped. but then you saw it—the way sunoo’s eyes softened, his lips curling into that familiar, shy smile you’d come to adore. he looked at you with a sense of warmth that made your heart flutter.
“honestly, i would love that,” he replied, his voice gentle, and there was something about the way he said it that made you feel like everything was falling into place.
your heart swelled with relief and excitement as you both continued holding hands, walking back to your place. the city lights around you were soft, casting a warm glow as you made your way to your apartment. it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day, and yet there was a sense of anticipation in the air, like something more was about to unfold.
once you got inside, the familiar comfort of your apartment seemed to settle around you. you slipped your shoes off and sank onto the couch, the soft cushions inviting you in. then, without really thinking about it, you moved a little closer to sunoo, leaning into him just enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours. you were suddenly aware of the way he tensed up a little, but it didn’t last long - he quickly relaxed into the position, and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he settled beside you.
you could both feel the electricity of the moment, the growing closeness that you both had been dancing around all evening. your stomach fluttered with nerves, but it felt right. it felt like you were both figuring out what this was. you grabbed the remote, trying to distract yourself a movie. you chose one of the first films that popped up on the screen—something lighthearted, you thought. but as the opening credits rolled, you suddenly realized you had made a terrible mistake. you hadn't checked the rating, and it was definitely not the kind of movie you’d intended. the film was rated R, and as the characters in the movie started to get closer, you felt the heat rise in your face again.
you tried to keep your focus on the screen, but every time the camera panned to the characters, your eyes couldn’t help but dart over to sunoo. you caught him quickly glancing away, a nervous chuckle escaping him. his whole body was a little tense, like he was trying to avoid acknowledging the fact that you were both watching an incredibly intimate scene.
the background noises from the movie only made things worse - moans and heated whispers. the tension between you two was palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. you were both blushing furiously, trying to ignore the scene unfolding, but it was impossible.
you tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled cough. you grabbed the remote in a panic, fumbling with it as you quickly skipped ahead, fast-forwarding past the scene with a little too much force. but even as the steamy scene disappeared from the screen, the awkward energy lingered, and you both sat there, still feeling the weight of the moment.
for a long while, neither of you spoke. the movie played on, but it was clear that neither of you were really paying attention to it anymore. sunoo glanced over at you with a nervous smile, the soft lines of his face lit by the glow of the television screen.
you couldn’t help but lean in closer, the pull between you two too strong to ignore. you knew you probably shouldn’t, considering that whatever was going on between you was still undefined, and maybe rushing it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. but in that moment, it didn’t matter. the space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, and you just couldn’t hold back anymore.
you glanced up at sunoo, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter. there was a quiet intensity there, a longing that mirrored your own, and in that look, you found something you hadn’t expected - he wanted this too.
without thinking, you shifted, positioning yourself so you were now facing him, your body comfortably nestled in his lap. he clearly hadn’t expected the sudden move, and you could feel his breath hitch in surprise, but there was no tension, no hesitation. he relaxed almost immediately, his hands gently settling on your waist, as though he was silently saying, it’s okay, I want this too.
you paused for a moment, just taking him in. sunoo wasn’t bulky, not like other guys you had met, but he was slender and graceful, his body still holding the quiet strength of someone who took care of himself. his frame felt right against yours, and his face - so beautiful, so expressive - made your heart race. there was something about him, something that made every word feel softer and every movement feel like it meant something more.
his eyes flickered to your lips and back up to your eyes, a silent invitation, and without even thinking, you leaned in slightly. in a moment of shared understanding, he closed the distance between you two, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was gentle. his lips were soft and warm, the touch sweet. everything about the kiss was tender, but you could feel the undercurrent of desire in it. it was like he was pouring everything into that moment - the way he pulled you closer, his hands now gently resting on the curve of your back, holding you to him as if you might slip away. it was a sweet, almost perfect kiss, just like him - full of emotion, but soft, full of warmth and affection, like he was telling you everything he couldn't quite say with words. you broke the kiss, your faces still inches apart, both of you breathing a little faster, hearts racing. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, but there was an understanding. whatever this was between you - however undefined or new - it was real.
he broke the silence with a simple sentence “i don't want to go on anymore dates that might not be dates,” he said with a laugh, “i really want to go out with you for real, i’m in love with you.”
you smile, your heart still racing, “me too, i'm in love with you too.”
#enhypen#kim sunoo#enhypen sunoo#sunoo x reader#sunoo x y/n#sunoo x you#sunoo imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#sunoo fluff#sunoo fanfic#sunoo fic#kpop imagines#kpop#enhablr#enha x reader#enha imagines#sunoo scenarios#fluff#idol x reader#dating#sunoo enhypen#enha#sunoo enha#enhypen soft hours#enhypen imagines#sunoo soft hours
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reality is . . . off
Here's me, screaming into the void. I've got no theory, only Clues.
Reality seems to be acting strangely in Season 2 of Good Omens. Mostly around Aziraphale. My examples:
This season seems to be from Aziraphale's point of view, and all the colors and lighting seem to be very bright and vibrant.
The note from Maggie -- another post on Tumblr (damned if I can find it now) pointed out that she puts her phone down right as Aziraphale comes into her shop for the first time. She seems to be texting him, but the text message arrives to his door as a note in the mail slot because that's how he expects to receive correspondences.
Changing the Bentley into Our Car -- and in the flashback to 1941 that happens after the trip to Edinburgh in the show, the Bently is still a four-door. He changed it and then made it so it always was that way. (There's a line in the book about someone being powerful enough to change something and then make it so it always was that way -- something that's repeated about the Book of Life, too. Hmm . . .) No wonder Crowley just opens up the back door to put his plants in, it's always had a back door at that point! And please don't @ me with the Bently is not a Clue -- the change happens right in scene, on screen. That was not a "they hoped no one would notice" moment. And yes, I know they weren't able to use Mary for the second season. They got a reasonable look-alike, and then changed that car into a four-door. For why??
The Bentley following him when he parks it. People have said, "Oh, yes, the Bentley is sentient, of course!" But it hasn't done anything to show that until after Aziraphale drives it. And don't @ me with the Queen -- the gag in the book says that any album left in a car for more than a fortnight transmogrifies into The Best of Queen. It's not the Bentley doing that, it's just a fact of Queen. (Can confirm.)
Aziraphale is terrible at magic. But somehow, when he really needs to make a trick work, he does it. Oh, yeah, babe? You just put that photo right up your sleeve slick as that? Hm.
That 25 Lazarii miracle. Neither of them expected that. Yet there it was.
The whole ball. He wasn't casting miracles, reality was just -- conforming itself to what he wanted.
Now my point is . . . I don't know. My observation is that reality seems to be following Aziraphale's wishes, and I don't think he even realizes that it shouldn't be. Not entirely. Or is it that he knows reality is re-shaping itself around him, and he's enjoying it?
Reality is not warping around Crowley in the same way, and Crowley seems to be able to feel something's wrong. Coming in waves, like a hangover.
Now, I have heard it said that Neil has also pointed out that our angel and demon warp reality just by existing. Okay, actually makes sense. How could an occult and celestial being not mess with reality without even realizing they're doing it?
Am I chewing on a nothing burger?
Is Aziraphale turned up somehow?
What is going on.
#good omens meta#good omens#good omens 2#good omens fan theory#a half-baked idea#help I've fallen into a good omens theory and I can't get out
251 notes
·
View notes
Note
Just the thought of Sunday and Reader bonding because of Robin they hate each other but because it makes Robin happy they will endure
“ erm, this place you picked for us to dine in is. .quite interesting, (name). “ sunday awkwardly comments, looking down at his cheeseburger and fries with subtle uncertainty. the burger seem decent and a bit greasy and the fries are golden brown but needs more salt. he suppose this will do. you shrugged, throwing a fry into your mouth, “ this is a family diner me and robin regularly go to when we visit penacony. she loves the shakes and burgers here. “ sunday merely hums, tentatively grabbing a knife and fork to split the burger into four pieces.
“ is that so? “ he attempts to smoothly cut the burger in half and fails. it seems like the meat is. .a bit overcooked. you have his sister eating at this subpar location and she likes it? unbelievable. “ y’know, you can eat the burger with your hands. .because it’s a burger, sunday. you don’t have to use silverware.” you remark with amusement in your voice, hiding your smirk behind the back of your hand as you watched sunday struggle with cutting through the burger.
“ maybe if the burger wasn’t so greasy and tough, perhaps i wouldn’t think twice about touching such a poor excuse of a burger. “
agitated, you smack your lips with the roll of your eyes, “ don’t be such a drama queen, sunny boy. you know the burger is not even that greasy and the meat itself is just slightly over cooked. keep your royal standards and perfect boy etiquette to yourself, asshole—“
the abrupt sound of the bell ringing and the front door opening echos through the small diner. heels hastily click across the tile floor as a familiar teal–haired woman paces down the isle to you and sunday’s table. all of your agitation melts away when you see robin’s apologetic smile. “ i greatly apologize for being late, big brother and (name)! the interview took longer than i had hoped. “
you smile warmly at her, patting a spot next to you on the booth. “ no, no—you’re okay, my angel. come sit next to me and rest, i’ve already ordered your favorites.” sunday greets her as well with a welcoming smile as she sits down next to you. you drape an arm around her waist and give her a quick kiss on the lips. “ i was just introducing your brother to the food here. don’t you want to see his reaction, robbie? “
conniving little weasel. sunday’s brow twitches. then, his eyes softens when robin’s eyes lights up with curiosity and excitement. “ i would be happy to! i’ve been meaning to tell you about this family diner, brother. the shakes here are delicious. i’m glad that we’re all here to enjoy the food together. “
sunday sighs in defeat and drops the silverware from his gloved hands. he slips off his gloves and sets it on his lap. “ i’m very much delighted to be here for the first time. let me do the honors of taking the first bite. “ he slowly grabs the burger in his hands, secretly cringing as the melted cheese and mayo seeps out from between the buns. sunday brings it to his mouth and takes a experimental bite of it. a surprised hum slips from his throat at the taste. although, the meat is chewy, it doesn’t have a bad taste to it either. the mayo and cheese oddly works well together too.
huh.
“ well? “ you gauge his reaction, not bothering to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you watch him take another bite of the burger. sunday flashes you a quick glare and smiles at robin, who was watching him with a hopeful expression on her face. “ it’s better than i expected. i can see why you took a liking to this place, robin. “ he admits after finishing his bite, grabbing a napkin to wipe the stains off his hands and mouth.
she sighs with relief, “ thank goodness. i was afraid the family diner wouldn’t be to your liking since this is a lot different from what you’re accustomed to. “
you snort, “ oh trust me my sweet, you hit it right on the— “
sunday clears his throat, interrupting you. “ i will say that the food here, specifically this burger, is something that i’m not used to but i quite like it. next time, i insist that you introduce me to your favorite orders here, robin. “
i swear this man has such a soft spot for his little sis. you thought, lazily putting another fry into your mouth while robin and sunday converse with each other. and that’s the only green flag I’m willing to see from him.
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can't Fight This Feeling
Fighting against the thoughts and the emotions felt like fighting to try to breathe while underwater. No matter where you went or how many cases you dealt with, you felt that pull. When you were in bars, attempting to relax after a hunt, good or bad, you thought of him. Those emerald-green eyes were always in your mind, and so was the way he had looked at you 3 months ago before he had driven away from Bobby’s. Every time Take Me Home Tonight came on the radio, you let the memories of that night replay in your mind. You could always tell when he was near, though, as that ache eased up in your chest, but you chose to drive further away every time. I was just a one-night stand to him, you’d tell yourself.
Dean x OC Reader/You
Word Count: 6787
Warnings: Angst, Some Fluff, longing, Some intimacy but not a lot of details, lots of emotional stuff, Show-level violence, injuries.
----------------------------------------- It was mid-December now, and this little town was decorated for Christmas. Lights were strung around the lamp posts with garland and wreaths. All the shops had some sort of decoration, including those Christmas window stickers. There was even almost two inches of snow on the ground, but a plow had already cleared the streets.
You had taken care of the small pack of werewolves, three of them. The bruises on your ribs and face were already healing, as was the cut on your abdomen. Even after all your careful surveillance, there had been a fourth one that surprised you. That had been the one to give you the beating that was now slowly healing itself. Looking like you did, you knew you couldn’t just go to the diner for something to eat. People would have asked questions, especially when your bruises and wounds continued healing. So, you ordered pizza before taking a shower, scrubbing all the mud, blood, and gunk off your body and out of your hair.
You tried desperately not to think about that night, or the following day when he and his brother had showed up at Bobby’s. God, you tried not to think about any of it, but Dean’s eyes were always there in your mind, as was the way it felt in his arms. You growled under your breath as you flicked through the channels and took another bite of pizza.
Bobby had tried to get you to talk to Dean, but you had refused. Your excuse was lame, and you knew it. What hunter would want to have a monster as a soulmate? It was your only argument. Plus, Dean had no clue what you were at the time, and you were intent on keeping it that way. The only lucky thing, you hadn’t ended up pregnant from that night. Although, you did start having periods, and you hated them to no end.
With Touched, especially the type you were, you could only have a family with your soulmate. It was something you hadn’t really ever thought too much about. What would be the odds of you actually finding your soulmate? That, too now, was one more thing added to your endless thoughts of Dean and a life you figured you’d never have. There were times you thought your life was nothing more than an ironic comedy, and that had only gotten worse over the last three months.
Going to sleep that night was like all the other nights. Your thoughts always drifted to Dean as that ache in your chest brought your hand to your breastbone, rubbing it absentmindedly. Then, you’d roll onto your side, curl up with your pillow, and close your eyes. Your dreams were always of him in ways that both brought you peace and hurt in the morning.
—----------------------
It had been two months since he’d driven away that morning. There were days he felt like he couldn’t stand to be in his own skin, and it was driving him crazy. Sam instantly noticed how Dean had days where he was on edge more than usual. When that two-month mark hit and Dean snapped at him over just asking what he would rather have, a burger or pizza, Sam took matters into his own hands. It took Sam nearly two hours to get it all out of him, but after that, the two went to Bobby’s.
The entire drive, Dean was on edge, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “This is stupid,” Dean grumbled halfway there already with as hard as his foot was on the accelerator.
“Bobby said he wouldn’t talk about it over the phone, but at least he might have some answers,” Sam sighed, only wanting to help at this point.
“She cursed me or something,” Dean mumbled, figuring you were a witch. This was the stupidest thought he had had thus far, but it was the only one that made any sense to him.
Sam glanced over at his brother, “We’ll figure this out.” He offered gently, not wanting to push Dean. The last two months had been hell at times, for both of them.
—--------
“You two are gonna wanna sit down for this,” Bobby sighed as he let them in.
That had Dean’s attention, but he went to the living room, barely able to keep from clenching and unclenching his hands, or rubbing them together, or shaking them like he was trying to shake water off. Bobby watched him as he poured him a glass of whiskey, which Dean downed in one go, handing the glass back. “She must be more than a state away, given your symptoms,” he mumbled, more to himself as he filled his own glass, then just handed Dean the bottle.
Sam sat in one of the chairs, looking between his brother and Bobby. None of this made sense to either of the brothers. “So, you said you could explain what was going on with Dean?” he asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.
With a sigh, Bobby leaned back in his seat. He’d only told one other person, well, two if you included her daughter, but you had needed other allies. “There are only two other people who know what I’m about to share with you, and no matter what, you have to keep it a secret,” he told the two, far sterner than they were prepared for.
However, at this point, he had both of their undivided attention. “Alright. We promise, Bobby,” Sam replied, while Dean nodded his head. “Yeah, promise,” he added quickly.
As Bobby proceeded to explain to the two of them what you were, they had the range of emotions and reactions you’d expect from a hunter while also utter curiosity. It filled in a lot for Dean from the night the two of you had spent together. There were the sounds you made, almost animalistic, but he’d been so caught up in you that he hadn’t thought twice that night about it. Then there had been the way you moved, having gotten out of his hold a couple of different times, and he had cuffed you to the bed. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why I feel like I do,” Dean grumbled, taking another swig of the whiskey, desperately wanting the uncomfortable feelings to go away.
“Well, that’s the complicated part. See, Touched are special. She’s special. Each Touched has a soulmate. Right now, she’s the only Touched in existence. Believe me, I’ve looked,” Bobby began explaining, not quite sure how Dean was going to take this next part.
Dean’s heartbeat sped up when Bobby said the word soulmate. It was already a lot to process that you weren’t human but you also had a soulmate? He’d heard the term a couple of times in lore books. He just never thought much about it. Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, wishing he had paid more attention back then.
Bobby took a sip of his whiskey, choosing his next words carefully. “She knows who her soulmate is. She just wants him to choose her because he wants to, not because he’s uncomfortable being away from her.”
Sam looked at Dean, quickly putting the pieces together before he did, but he said nothing. He was now attempting to figure out how Dean was going to react when he finally figured it out, or Bobby told him bluntly. Sam kind of liked the idea of having you around. You seemed cool in many ways, and in others, you reminded him of Dean.
“So, why the hell does it feel like my chest hurts all the time? Or like my skin is uncomfortable? Or like I want to drive in the opposite direction I’m already going?” Dean asked, utterly frustrated at this point. He was still trying to keep his one hand from clenching and unclenching while the other kept a tight grip on the whiskey bottle.
“You really are an idjit,” Bobby almost chuckled as he sat forward in his chair. “It’s you, dumbass,” he added, quite bluntly. He had hoped you would find someone who wasn’t a hunter who would accept you for what you were, someone who wasn’t… Dean. He might have even been okay if it had been Sam. But Dean? Dean wasn’t exactly the relationship type.
All Dean could do was blink blankly at Bobby, too stunned to think straight, but at least it explained what he was going through. “You have a choice, though. You can either accept her or reject her. If you accept her as your soulmate, those things will mostly go away, but you’ll still feel that mild ache when you’re far apart. If you reject her, it will all go away, and you won’t feel any pull toward her at all,” Bobby added, but his tone was a warning, and Dean knew it. Bobby was careful to leave out specific details. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to choose you over guilt. Dean’s gaze fell to the whiskey bottle, his expression as solemn as his emotions. “What did she pick?” he asked quietly.
Bobby sighed, leaning back in his seat again, “She swore me to secrecy. She wants you to decide. She also said that Sam would know how to find her and that I’m not to give either of you her number.”
Dean’s head instantly snapped up. “But, that’s not fair,” he practically whined, and Bobby couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. He sounded like a love-sick teenager.
“I’ll make this clear, as I’m only gonna say it once. Once you decide, don’t toy with her heart. I’ll shoot you myself. We clear?” Bobby told him, far sterner than either brother had heard the man speak before. “Understood,” Dean answered quickly, not sure if he should be afraid of Bobby hurting him or you if he fucked things up. Then, he looked over at Sam. “So, baby brother, how do you know how to find her?” he asked quite quizzically.
For a moment, Sam had to think about that one. It had been two months since they’d seen you, but once it hit him, he couldn’t stifle his laughter if he wanted to. “Her plate number,” he laughed out, “and her aliases.” “Let’s go then. You can look it up on the drive,” Dean told him, already getting up and moving to the front door. “Thanks, Bobby,” he added as he went outside.
The entire idea of soulmates was weird, scary as hell, and had his nerves on edge, but that was due to what else it had made him feel. Like no matter how self-deprecating he’d been, there really was someone for him in a way he thought he’d never have. Plus, after everything he learned about what you were, he really wanted to see if he could get you to purr—the thought of hearing that had sent a shiver through his body.
He didn’t know a lot about you, but he knew how you brought a peace to his soul when he held you close. Then there was the sex. God, the sex. He tried not to think about that very much, because every time he did, it felt like his skin was on fire, and you were the only thing that would douse it. Plus, whenever he had to shift in his seat, Sam always glanced at him.
They did what they could with the plate number. However, that only got them so far, as had your aliases. So, when neither of those helped, Dean went in the direction that made him feel better. It was all he had. Sam helped by trying to predict what city or town they were headed toward, but they would end up driving straight through it. Whether you realized it or not, at the time, you were taking them on a wild goose chase by complete accident.
—-----------------------------
“A month! It’s been an entire fucking month, and we still haven’t found her!” Dean growled as they headed towards another small town.
They had picked up a couple of cases and worked those on their trek to locate you. Dean had needed something to get out his frustrations on and hunting monsters was always a decent outlet for his anger. “Why don’t we stop in the next town, get a motel for the night? I need a real bed, please. We can take a breather and I’ll see what I can find online,” Sam pleaded from the passenger seat, giving Dean the best puppy eyes he could muster with as exhausted as he was.
Dean looked over at Sam and frowned, but his expression softened as his gaze returned to the road. “One night, maybe two, unless I start to feel worse,” he relented, knowing he needed a break as well. He just wouldn’t admit it.
It had taken a toll on the two of them, driving back and forth whenever Dean would feel that pull when they had nothing else to go on. There was still another hour before they hit the next town, but Dean was slowly starting to relax the closer they got. Even Sam noticed how the tension had begun easing from his shoulders.
“Maybe she’s close, or am I imagining you relaxing?” Sam asked.
He hadn’t even noticed that he was feeling more relaxed, then pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, “She’s in the next town.” Dean stated firmly, as several emotions washed over him: anxiety, anticipation, hope, fear. Neither paid much attention to the scenery, and Dean refused to turn on music as his thoughts raced again. He still hadn’t fully figured out what he was going to say to you. What could he say? He wanted you, in every way you’d give yourself to him while at the same time, he was afraid that if he did give into his feelings, he’d lose you to some monster. It was a frustrating circle of thoughts he couldn’t quite shut off.
“Do you know what you’re gonna say to her?” Sam asked gingerly from the passenger seat, five miles from the town limits.
Dean sighed with a frown, “No. What if she doesn’t want me?”
Sam chuckled a little. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. I think that if she had chosen to reject you as her soulmate, you wouldn’t still be feeling like you are.” It took a few moments for that to fully sink into Dean’s head, and a smile found his lips. She didn’t reject me. His mood instantly perked up, and he smiled like a love-struck teenager again, making Sam nearly laugh. Dean also felt slightly like an idiot. Of course Bobby wouldn’t tell us everything and make this easy. The thought made him chuckle slightly.
The light of the early morning made the snow in the town sparkle like glitter. Most of the shops were still closed this early, and so far, no one else was on the road. The brothers didn’t pay much attention to the decorations as they looked for the motel first. “Should only be a couple more blocks,” Sam stated quietly, more to himself than to Dean, as he searched the parking lots for your car out the side window.
It was Dean smacking his shoulder with the back of his hand repeatedly that pulled Sam’s attention to him. “What?”
All Dean could do was point as he pulled into the parking lot of the motel, Sam’s eyes going to the object. A relieved smile found his expression as Dean’s heart raced. What the hell do I even say to her? Dean swallowed hard as he parked right next to your car, but he couldn’t bring himself to move or turn off the engine.
Sam furrowed his brow when Dean didn’t move, then looked at him. “Really? We’ve been trying to find her for a month and you’re just going to sit there?”
He couldn’t move, his emotions gripping at his chest and rooting his body in place. Without warning, Sam reached over and turned off the Impala, pocketing the keys. Then, he got out of the car, went around to the driver’s side, and opened the door.
“This is for your own good,” Sam told him bluntly before dragging Dean out of the car. “Now, which room is she in?” Dean pointed at room 9.
So, Sam dragged him over to the door, knocked on it, and then jogged down to the main office to get his own room this time, already having an idea of how things were going to go.
—------------------------
You’d woke just before the sun had breached the horizon but stayed bundled up under the blankets and stared at the ceiling. The dreams of him still playing through your mind. You wanted to smile with what had been in them. The sweet, tender moments the two of you had shared. It was waking up alone that kept the smile from finding your lips, having convinced yourself that you were nothing more than a one-night stand to him. You had to, for your own peace of mind, mostly. You didn’t notice how the ache in your chest was subsiding, or how your breathing was even for the first time in days. Then there was how relaxed your body felt.
Grumbling slightly at the need for caffeine, you climbed out of bed and made your way to the coffee pot. Another long, boring day. As you waited for the coffee to brew, you changed into day clothes, pulling on your flannel to keep the chill away. Even with the heater working fine, you still felt chilly, but you knew why. It was the need to feel his arms around you, just holding you close, and the moment your mind began toying with the thought, you pushed it away and focused on your coffee. The warmth slowly seeped into your hands from the cup while the sip you’d take began to warm your insides. You hummed contently as the sun rose further, trying to penetrate the curtains you had pulled shut the night before.
To help distract your mind further, you settled onto your bed, comfortable against the headboard as you flipped through the channels of the TV. It was still quite early, and even though there was nothing on worth watching, you felt completely relaxed in that moment. Somehow, you managed to end up completely distracted by what was on the TV.
What you weren’t prepared for was the knock on your door, your head tilting much like a curious but cautious cat. Slowly, you slipped off the bed, setting your cup of coffee down on the nightstand, and then made your way to the door. You felt that pull again, just as you reached for the doorknob, your breath hitching in your chest.
You took a slow, deep breath, letting it out just as slowly while trying to calm your racing heart. Then, you gingerly pulled the door open. Seeing him standing there sent all sorts of emotions through you: hope, fear, anticipation, anxiety, but your lips parted slightly when your eyes met his. At that moment, time stopped for both of you as Can’t Fight This Feeling by Reo Speedwagon began playing on the television in the background.
Neither of you could seem to find words or move as the song played, your eyes locked with each other. He wanted to pull you against him, feel your body against his, but at the same time, he was hesitant. The same emotions that coursed through him were mirrored in your eyes, but it was the vulnerability that caught him completely off guard.
You had been so confident that night and even the following day at Bobby’s. So, not seeing it now and seeing the vulnerability only made him want to protect you more. The moment the chorus of the song began dancing off the walls of your motel room, his lips were on yours, having closed the distance between the two of you.
Dean couldn’t hold back any longer. That vulnerability in your eyes had shoved aside any doubt that had been in his mind, overriding his fear and tugging at his heart. I promise, I’ll never leave you, and I’ll protect you with my life. He couldn’t speak the words that had gone through his head, but then again, Dean was never good with words.
You closed your eyes, resting your hands on his chest as your lips moved with his. It was tender, slow, and far more intimate than that night three months ago. When his hand cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch, his other hand made its way to your waist, then around your back, pulling you closer.
Sam stopped short on his walk toward the room he’d gotten, a relieved smile finding his face. Thank God. His hope was that things would go well between the two of you, and so far, that’s how it was looking. Quietly, he grabbed his bag from the Impala, then went to his room, finally feeling like he could relax.
Dean teased your bottom lip with his tongue, and the moment your lips parted, his tongue met yours. There was no desperation in the way you kissed each other. It went far deeper than the physical need for each other. It was the need to share with each other what you felt, what you wanted, and what you were both hoping for.
When he finally pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, both of you were breathing a little heavier. “I’ll always choose you,” he whispered, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.
You closed your eyes again, releasing a shaky breath as a tear slipped down your cheek. Dean gently brushed it away with his thumb. Bobby had called you after he’d spoken to the brothers, sharing with you what had been said. You had honestly thought Dean would have rejected you, due to what you were.
“It doesn’t bother you… that I’m not human?” you whispered, still worried about that part.
It was his chuckle that pulled your attention, your eyes opening as you tilted your head, looking at him much like a curious cat. “Sweetheart, I want to find out what makes you purr,” he replied in that honeyed tone, the words like silk as they left his lips. It sent both an exhilarating shiver through your body and made your heart flutter simultaneously. He watched as a blush crept into your cheeks, then slowly began walking you backward into your motel room, gently kicking the door closed behind him. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to hold you, if that’s okay,” he whispered, his tone softer now, almost… loving.
You bit your bottom lip as you looked into those emerald-green eyes of his. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch in your chest. It wasn’t lust blown like that night. “Then get comfy, and we can cuddle,” you replied softly, leaning up and placing a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.
Sure, the two of you needed to talk, but there was something else the two of you needed far more at the moment. Dean kicked off his shoes, then slipped off his jacket, draping it over a nearby chair. He watched as you climbed onto the bed, his heart still racing, but it was your shy smile when you looked up at him that made him realize exactly what he wanted. With a giddy grin, he climbed onto the bed beside you and held his arms open.
It wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to just wrap his arms around you and pull you close, but he could see the uncertainty in your eyes, so he’d go at your pace. Hesitantly, you scooted a little closer, then gingerly snuggled up against him. The warmth of his body, the beating of his heart, and then his arms around you, holding you close, made you purr. This time, you didn’t stop yourself. The sound was soft, the vibrations gentle, and Dean let out a contented sigh.
“Stay with me?” he asked quietly, not completely sure how to ask you to be his, to join him and his brother on the road. You fit perfectly against him, and he never wanted to let you go again.
You could hear his emotions in his words, somehow knowing he meant more than just right now, or for the night. A smile found your lips as your hand drew incoherent patterns on his chest over his shirt. “I’ll need to take my car back to Bobby’s first,” you replied softly and heard Dean’s heart speed up. There was a lot you both wanted to say, but for a while, neither of you spoke, just taking the time to relish the moment neither of you thought would come. The vibrations of you purring gently massaged Dean’s muscles, and you felt him relax further.
“What else makes you purr?” he asked softly as he ran his hand through your hair.
For a moment, you thought about his question, as it wasn’t something you had a quick answer for. “Lots of different things. It mostly has to do with how I feel. Mostly, I purr when I’m happy, relaxed, feel safe, or I just feel good. But sometimes, I purr when I’m hurt or sad. It’s like self-soothing when that happens,” you explained, a little quietly due to feeling shy on the topic.
He didn’t pull away. Instead, he held you a little closer as he kissed the top of your head. “Is this a happy purr?” he asked, almost worried it wasn’t.
Even if he couldn’t see your face, you smiled a little. “Yeah, this is a happy purr,” you replied before nuzzling your head a little against his chest, enjoying how his scent comforted you.
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, the discomfort you both had felt over the last three months completely draining from both of you. Dean nearly fell asleep like that. Between you snuggled against him and the vibrations of your purring, well, it was something he never wanted to go without again.
It was the grumbling of both your stomachs that disrupted the moment, making the two of you chuckle. “Will you have breakfast with me?” Dean asked, nervous you’d say no. He almost felt like he was asking his high school crush on a date as the butterflies danced in his stomach.
You shifted a little so you could look up at him. The look in his eyes parted your lips. No one had looked at you like he was, and you knew you’d never get tired of seeing the love in his eyes. Before you could answer him, his lips found yours in another tender kiss, his hand cupping your cheek.
As he pulled you just that much closer, you smiled against his lips. “Thought you wanted me to have breakfast with you?” you giggled without pulling away, his lips still moving against yours as you tried to speak.
“Yeah,” he began responding, then another kiss. “But,” another kiss, “It can wait,” another kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips and began dancing with yours. Your free hand made its way into his hair, running your fingers through it and gently letting your nails scrape against his scalp. He groaned into your mouth, then pulled you to straddle his lap. This wasn’t like that first night. This was different. You let his hands trace your sides, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your breasts through your shirt. Now you were wishing you hadn’t changed into day clothes.
But he didn’t push anything. Not even when his hands rested on your hips. He just held you there, occasionally letting his hands move to your back to pull you a little closer. The way he kissed you was different, too. It was so many emotions all wrapped up together.
When he did finally pull away, he brought his hand up to the back of your head, guiding it gently to rest on his shoulder. “I know it’s probably crazy, but…” he trailed off, not sure he could say what he really wanted to. “...will you be mine?”
You felt the tears burn your eyes at his request, letting out a shaky breath as he held you close. “I’ll always be yours, Dean,” you whispered.
—------------------------------------- Five Months Later…
Was it all sunshine and rainbows? No, but it wasn’t all horrible, either. You and Sam had become best friends, quickly. He was the bother you always wanted and never had, while you were the sister he never had but now couldn’t imagine his life without. The two of you would nerd out over lore, movies, and books like Harry Potter. He had his bad habits, but so did you, and you both lovingly picked on each other about them.
Things with Dean were amazing off the get-go and for the first couple of months. The man couldn’t keep his hands off you. Then again, you couldn’t keep your hands off him, either. It seemed like there wasn’t a place he wouldn’t have sex. Most of the places you were totally okay with, like the back seat of Baby, or the front seat, on the hood, every motel room, including if the two of you had to share one with Sam due to the motel not having enough rooms. It was the other places like public bathrooms, alleys, or being parked in a busy parking lot where you were a little iffy about.
It wasn’t that you were shy, far from it. It was the sounds you made that were far more cat like that worried you. Dean seemed to understand, but when you were stern about saying no, he got distant for the rest of the day. The two of you wouldn’t have sex that night, and he didn’t initiate cuddling when you two would crawl in bed.
Oddly enough, that wasn’t even the worst part. When the brothers had seen how you were on a hunt, they were both intrigued and a little scared. You hunted differently due to what you were. You were the predator, like a cat, the monster your prey. It took a few hunts and several talks with them, but they eventually got past the fear. They couldn’t help it, you were scary when you hunted.
It was the hunt last week that had seemed to drive a wedge between you and Dean—a nest of Vampires. You hated vampires much like Dean hated witches. All of you had done the legwork, surveillance, and counted the number of vamps in the nest: 8 total. Unfortunately, there were two more that none of you were aware of, and you were the one who ended up taking the beating.
You had a good reason to break from the plan, but Dean hadn’t wanted to hear any of it afterward. It wasn’t anything Dean said. It was the way he looked at you and kept his distance that hurt the most. Sam could only watch in silence, looking between the two of you as Dean began speaking while you were getting yourself cleaned up.
“That was stupid and reckless,” Dean stated, almost coldly from where he stood between the two motel beds, just watching you.
He could see the bruises on your exposed skin, his jaw clenching as he crossed his arms. Watching you get thrown across that barn and not get up right away nearly killed him, even if you had saved Sam’s life, literally.
When you didn’t respond, he took a breath to try to calm his emotions but didn’t move. “We had a plan. You can’t even follow directions, and now you’re hurt.” He knew it wasn’t coming out the way he wanted to say it, but he couldn’t seem to say what he really wanted to. I can’t lose you.
“Dean, maybe-” Sam began, but Dean just held up his hand, silencing his brother as he stared at you in the bathroom. It was similar to when you’d been beaten by that werewolf, just without the gash on your abdomen. All your muscles were sore, and you had hay in your hair, which was annoying, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. The way Dean was treating you hit something deep inside and brought a pain you had never felt before, and you just wanted it to go away.
You took several slow, deep breaths as you gripped the sink, then looked in the mirror at your reflection: a split lip and a black eye. You slipped your flannel on, buttoning the first four buttons before you turned around to even look at Dean.
He looked pissed. Even after spending five months with the two of them, there was still so much you didn’t know about him, and barely scratched the surface on the little things. You saw how his jaw clenched just a little tighter, the coldness and anger in his eyes, and how he held himself, completely closed off. At least, that was what it looked like to you.
You debated fighting with him, as that was what it seemed like he wanted to do: fight. He’d taken issue when you had gotten hurt on other hunts, but this was by far the worst you’d gotten hurt since you had joined up with them. “I’m not doing this tonight, Dean,” you told him flatly, then left the motel room before he could stop you.
Unable to go to a bar, you went to the gas station, bought a bottle of whiskey, then climbed in the back seat of the Impala and began drinking to make the pain stop. Pain that had nothing to do with your injuries, and it had only gotten worse when he didn’t even go looking for you. You slept in the back seat that night, bottle empty and on the floorboard. You didn’t even wake up until sometime after they had started driving the following morning.
It’s been a week since that happened, and Dean has barely come near you, so you kept your distance from him. Sometimes, you wondered if Dean felt that same aching, twisting pain that started deep in the chest, feeling as though it would take you down faster than any monster could. You always pushed the thought away, especially since he had started sleeping with his back to you.
Dean didn’t know what to do, lost in his thoughts as he tried to sleep. He had blamed himself for you getting hurt like you had, just like he did when Sam would get hurt. He could also see that you were hurting in a different way than any physical injury, and he blamed himself for that one, too. You were so close to him; only six inches separated the two of you on that motel bed between your backs, but he couldn’t bring himself to roll over and hold you. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest, twisting and turning the knife every time he saw the pain and hurt in your eyes. All he had wanted to do was apologize and hold you close, beg for your forgiveness, but part of him felt like you’d be better off without him in your life. “Would you be happier if I left?” you finally broke the silence, knowing he was awake. Your voice was almost quieter than a whisper, and he wasn’t sure if he had imagined your question.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked, his voice gruffer than he meant it to be, and it wasn’t what he had truly wanted to say.
You clenched your jaw as you gripped your chest, holding your breath for a few moments as the pain coursed through you, rejection. It took you several minutes to even out your breathing before you could respond while also trying to keep the tears from falling. “That doesn’t answer my question,” you whispered, not trusting your voice.
Dean threw the blankets off himself and got out of bed, then grabbed a beer off the counter. He took a long swig of it, trying desperately to get his emotions under control. The one thing he couldn’t do, was look over at you. He knew you had curled in on yourself, lying as still as you could as close to the edge of the bed without slipping off it.
You bit your bottom lip, turning your head slightly into the pillow as the tears slipped out the moment he’d gotten out of bed. At least he wouldn’t feel the bed move due to my sobs. Sobs that the pillow muffled. The longer the silence stretched, the worse you felt.
“I can’t lose you,” he finally admitted quietly, his hands on the counter, the beer between them.
Your head snapped up as your gaze quickly landed on him. He looked almost… defeated? Without having to even think, you wiped away your tears, got out of bed, and went over to him, holding him from behind. You wrapped your arms around his stomach, lying your head against his back. He couldn’t move as he fought back tears. Even with how he had treated you, you were comforting him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I don’t know how to do this.”
You loosened your hold on him, slipping under his arm so that you were between him and the counter, and then you held him close again. “I’m not mad at you, Dean,” you began quietly, softly. “I can’t lose you or Sam. I know that you would give your life for either of us. I need you to know that I would do the same. Instead of pushing me away when I get hurt like I did, maybe try just being there for me, reminding me without words that even though you’re upset and scared, that you still care for me, please,” you told him, your voice no more than a whisper with your plea.
Dean slowly brought his hands to your back, then held you close as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The feeling of you in his arms again made everything melt away as he tightened his arms around you just a little more. “I’ll try,” he whispered, attempting to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat.
“Let me hold you tonight?” you asked in a soft whisper.
He took a shaky breath, then pulled away, only enough to lead the two of you back to bed. You climbed in first, facing his side, the pain you’d felt was slowly going away as you watched him lie down and face away from you. When he was comfortable, you scooted close, pressing your body against his back, then pulled the blankets over both of you. You nuzzled your head against the middle of his shoulder blades after leaving a tender, lingering kiss on his shoulder. The hand you had used to pull the blankets up now moved down his arm, a soothing gesture before you found his elbow. Instead of resting your hand on his hip like you usually would, you let your hand find his before intertwining your fingers with his.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered his apology again, feeling like the worst person on the planet with how he had treated you.
Then he felt the vibrations of you purring against him, soothing the tension in his muscles. “Dean, I chose you. I’ll always choose you. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad, upset, scared, or feeling guilty. I’ll still choose you, even if you don’t know how to let me in.” you whispered softly, still purring quietly. “I forgive you.”
Dean couldn’t stop the couple of tears that escaped or the shaky breath he tried to take. He couldn’t bring himself to say a word, knowing he’d break down completely if he had. In that moment, when you forgave him, he made a decision. He was going to really try to talk to you about what was bothering him. Letting someone in was something he didn’t do, but you were different. You were his other half, his soulmate, and he was yours. He wanted to let you in. He just wasn’t sure how, and he’d been going through far more than he had let on in the last five months.
----------------------------------------- Hard to Say I'm Sorry
Speaking Through Songs Mini-Series Touched Master List Main Master List
Tag List: @ladysparkles78
Permanent Tag List: @roseblue373 @flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @foxyjwls007
@hobby27 @megs-gadom @cheekygirl2309 @mxtansy
#Touched#oc reader#spn oc#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spnfandom#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural oc#supernatural au#supernatural fic#supernatural fandom#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester x femaleoc#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#dean x you#dean fanfiction#dean x reader#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean winchester x you#soulmate au#soulmates
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
we've got a date!
date night + morning with ellie! (+ a couple headcanons)
warnings: fluff! fem!reader (reader wears a dress & heels), modern au???? kinda, not really, but STILL! IDK!!! ALSO, mentions of pot/weed/reefer/mary jane/ganja... u know ;)
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for WEEKS! like seriously.. i forgot about it… also ty for 100+ followers?? i’ve only had this acc for a few weeks? sooooo ty!!! (´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚
getting ready for date night with ellie takes longer than the date itself!
she always wants you to do her hair (she picks the same style almost every time) and her makeup (usually a little bit of concealer, dark eyeshadow, some mascara, and more often than not, a dark-reddish lip tint/lipstick)
but of course, it’s all an act to get you to be close to her and so she can get a good look at you :)
by the time you’re finished getting the both of yourselves ready, it’ll be too late to go to the fancy restaurant that you‘d had a reservation for.
“it’s fine, babe. we’ll stay in.” she says, her head tilting as she studies the way your dress hugs your waist and your hips, a grin forming on her face. “yea… we’ll definitely stay in.”
the one time you guys end up being ready on time, she wears a loose-fitting suit (becuz she’s classy like that), she prefers the darker shades to match with the makeup you did for her.
her accessories include TONS of rings, including the matching promise ring that she’d gotten for the two of you. i feel like she has 2 silver necklaces, one being a sorta chunky silver chain and a heart locket with a picture of you in it :(
and guys���. wouldn’t it be so fun and so silly and goofy if ellie wore matching underwear set with the reader? like….. HELLO?
during dinner (whether it’s at home or at the actual restaurant), she’s always staring at you, into your eyes, at your hair, at your body. 'god, she’s gorgeous.' she thinks to herself, watching as you eat your food. 'fuck.. i'm so lucky to have her.'
omg ellie has PAGES and PAGES dedicated to you in her notebook. if she could fill up her entire notebook with drawings, poems, and little details about you, she would. but obviously she can’t because she needs it for her missions, and it’s best to travel lightly on them.
periodically, you’ll look up to see her sketching in her notebook. but when you try to take a peak, she covers up her pages with her hands. “babe!!” you whine, “let me see!!!” she groans and places her notebook in your hands.
as soon as your eyes hit the pages, you see detailed and pretty accurate drawings.. of you. “are these all me, ellie?” you gasp, and look up at her. she’s already looking away, a flustered and palming the back of her neck.
she mumbles something under her breath, but you can’t quite make out what. “what? i can’t hear you..” you reply to her mumbling. “i said… yes.” she responds, turning to face you, her freckled cheeks still flushed.
as soon as the two of you leave and get home, you shower her with kisses, placing your lips all over her face, neck, and face (basically wherever you can!)
i feel like ellie would be the type of person to order chicken tenders/a burger at whatever restaurant she’s at. she doesn’t like changing up her orders too often, but she’ll definitely end up eating half of your meal as well :’)
it’s usually super late when the two of you get home. as you set down your stuff, you can feel ellie’s guitar-calloused fingers feel up and down your arms, her lips peppering soft and light kisses against the back of your neck and your shoulders.
“let’s go to bed, angel..” you hear her grumble behind you. she guides you upstairs, her hands placed on your hips, lightly pushing you up the stairs.
ellie LOVES to take care of you. taking your heels off, helping you out of your dress, taking your hair down/putting it up. the whole SHEBANG!! but she’s also a big softie and loves when you return the favor :( she absolutely loves your touch and feeling your soft hands and your delicate fingers gliding up and down her skin.
cuddling with ellie is usually short, but sweet. she likes to be little spoon most of the time, but since she falls asleep so quickly, she almost always ends up wiggling her way out of your grasp.
on the contrary, when you’re little spoon, her grip on you is so tight that you guys wake up the next morning in the same position. and thats how you know the sleep was good.
“so… how would you rate our date?” she asks, her eyes closed, already drifting off to sleep.
+++
you find yourself waking up the next morning to ellie’s side of the bed empty. “..ellie?” you call out. no response. as soon as you get up and walk halfway down the stairs, your nostrils are hit with a mixing aroma of both pot and…. bacon?
when you spot ellie, she has a spatula in one hand and the other is gripping the handle of the pan. 6 thick slices of bacon dance on the face of the pan as ellie exhales smoke through her nose.
when she finally realizes you were standing at the edge of the counter, she makes her way over to you, slightly blowing smoke into your mouth as she leans in to kiss you “good morning!" she says, taking the joint out of her mouth, and placing a deep kiss on your lips. "mmm my sweet girl.” she hums.
"hey, help me set the table!"
constructive criticism is appreciated !!!
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#wlw#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#the last of us#tlou 2#ellie tlou#ellie fluff#tlou fluff#fluff#𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐢𝐨 ୧ *.˚₊
545 notes
·
View notes