#(slightly) disheveled and like something happened to him but he doesn't want to talk about it' type of vibes LMAO

[thechaoticcheese]

Aight I'm sick and still on that COD x SPN high so I'm writing something.

Price knows basically everything about his group. He has to. Whether he shares it with Laswell is his business. So when he's out on one of Gaz's first hunts and is needing intel. Gaz goes silent for hours. It freaks Price out as he's trying to figure where the hell Gaz is and what happened to him. Did the unknown monster get him? It curdled Price's stomach at the thought. Until hours later when Price was trying to not let it get to him and focus on what he does know does Gaz just show back up. He isn't disheveled and looked completely fine.

Price gives him a big hug, apologizing right after and asking where the hell Garrick was and why he wasn't answering coms. Gaz says that he was out getting intel about the area and other such from the locals and got a bunch and shared it with Price. Price is skeptical, having dealt with shapeshifters before. He secretly sets up a camera in the hotel room when Gaz is asleep and he would look at it later, provided he was still alive to do so.

Nothing. No gray-yellow glowing eyes, Gaz was clear. He huffed and leaned back in the hotel chair and huffed. Gaz had left early that morning leaving a note that he was gathering more intel, and had looked straight into the camera, as if just knowing Price had set it up. Though the Captain had had enough of this secrecy and went to go find the new Sergeant. He sets out in his truck, glancing at his phone for just a couple of seconds before he looks up to see a long haired german shepherd crossing the street. He hits the breaks but not fast enough as he hears a squeaky yip from the front of his car. Fear courses through Price as he turns on his emergency lights and hops out to see that the dog's leg had been crushed underneath the truck's tire and was whining, but not running as it looked up at Price. Price backed the truck up and goes back out to lift the dog into the back seat of his truck without a second thought, moving it onto a spare blanket he always kept in the back.

Price couldn't dare look at the limp and flat leg of the dog as he started to drive to the nearest place he could park, it being the side of the road a bit further up as he pulls out his phone and starts looking for an emergency vet clinic before he heard movement in the back, causing him to glance up in his review mirror.

"Don't panic." Gaz said as soon as Price's eyes met his through the rearview mirror. There was pain twisted on the younger man's face as bone cracking filled the truck. Price turned fully around to see a mostly naked Gaz, the blanket being draped over his hips and the leg that was healing all too fast for Price's liking.

"I won't if you don' start talking." Price huffed out as his mind whirled.

"I'm... I'm a skinwalker. Always have been. I don't want to get into specifics right now-" Gaz bared his teeth and gasped as his leg snapped back into place before he panted, "Fuckin' hate that... But I'm not like the others. Humans can suck for sure, but that doesn't mean all of them should die."

Price paused as he studied Gaz's movements. He'd been a good hunter since recruitment, giver take Price did just pluck the beginner from the streets in England, but he'd always been loyal to a fault. No questions asked.

"What 'appened to your pack?" Price finally asked.

"Killed." Gaz's throat tightened as the question brought back memories that he slightly shook away.

"So then this is how yu've been gettin' intel?" Price continued his questioning.

"Sometimes. It helps to sneak around as a dog when looking for scent trails. And sometimes real good for gathering information." Gaz replied with a small smile.

"Hmm... Al'ight." Price turned back around before turning on the truck and glancing back at Gaz through the rearview mirror. "No one else knows?"

"No sir."

"Keep it that way."

~~~~~

I do imagine that Ghost and Gaz somewhat have a feeling that each aren't human. There doesn't seem to be much evidence that werewolves and skinwalkers can feel each other's presence like they can with their own kind, but I do feel like they'd just have a sixth sense to when someone ain't human besides their own kind. They don't say a thing about it, knowing that there are monsters on the human's side and would do anything to help them live.

I do imagine that Gaz and Ghost bond over being shifters though once they find out about each other. Mainly the struggles of the small blood lust they get especially when it comes to killing enemies and wanting their heart. Ofc talked about in private and away from Price and Soap to not scare them.

[lususnatura]

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 9 - Smackdown

Warnings: Physical abuse

You wake up to a painfully bright light. Opening your eyes you notice you're in a hospital.

So, like any poor person who can't afford a trip to the hospital, you panic. You sit up straight and try to ignore the slightly discomfort in your body. A hand rests itself on your shoulder and you jump slightly, your spider sense were muddled up currently due to the cafe incident.

When you turn to see who placed the hand on your shoulder you almost scream.

Duke Thomas. Duke fucking Thomas.

This is officially the worst day of your life. How could it not be?

Duke seems to be saying something but you can't find the motivation to listen, he looks worried. People could say Duke was the kindest, most normal person in the Wayne family but you could see right through him.

Something was wrong with him. He's dangerous. He has to be, why else would your senses go into hyperdrive whenever he's around. Sure, he's the most tolerable out of them all but that doesn't make him instantly better.

-

Duke stops talking once he notices your dazed look. You look scared.

He furrows his brows and removes the hand from your shoulder, he slowly grabs your hand - so gentle he may as well think it was cracked glass.

"Y/N..?" He mutters, cursing himself silently due to how awkward it sounded coming out of his mouth. Your name was rarely uttered in the family, all talks being through messages and when talking in real life it was always 'that girl' or 'Aranea's hater'.

Never Y/N.

Duke had mixed feelings about you. He doesn't know what to think.

If only you'd just speak with Aranea, things would be so much easier. You wouldn't be so tormented. That look in your eyes - apprehension, fear, and something else he can't decipher - makes him pity you, you have opinions, they just happen to be the wrong ones.

Before Duke can speak up once more to try and snap you out of your dazed state the hospital door slams open.

Both your heads whip to the door a disheveled looking Dick Grayson is leaning against, heaving for breath.

It certainly snapped you out of it. Great. Just your luck. What is he even doing here? Gonna dump more water on you? Ruin more of your belongings? Rub in the fact you ended up in hospital?

To your surprise - and, honestly, horror - Dick rushes to your side and looks you over...

As if afraid of losing you..? What? Are you hallucinating?

You manage to hear his mutterings, his breathless whispers. It immediately enrages you.

"Thank fuck you aren't dead... I would feel so guilty.."

He would feel guilty? Him?

What about you. Not everything revolves around him.

You're the one that was 'pranked'.

You're the one that had the allergic reaction.

You're the one who now has to deal with her parent's wrath once they see the hospital bill.

With all the strength you have you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. None of them reach out to try and stable you when you stumble slightly.

You take a deep breath before glaring at Dick, you hope your hatred can override your exhaustion so you can actually look threatening.

"What are you doing here." You ask, though it wasn't phrased as a question - moreso a demand. You watch as Dick fiddles with something behind his back before sighing and handing it to you.

"I.. I wanted to apologize for the stunt I pulled. It was shitty of me to do. I bought you a new phone to make up for it though!"

You can do nothing but stare down at the phone in it's box. It was one of the expensive ones your parents always talk about wanting. You know for sure that if you arrived home they'd snatch it from you and hand one of their beat up phones in exchange.

So generous.

"Thanks, Dick..."

What else was there to do but sigh and thank him? He seems proud at your gratitude before turning and heading for the door. He stops before leaving and looks over his shoulder.

"No wonder you're a shitty person, you're room is super shitty." With a chuckle he then, finally, leaves. You hunch over in agitation. You are so done with the Wayne family - and you still need to deal with Duke.

Speaking of, his voice finally reaches your ears.

"Y/N..? Sorry for Dick's comments. That was super underhanded." You side eye him while he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly - what is he? an anime protagonist?

"And, uh, about the whole hospital thing, I can pay if need be!" He looks like he's ready to argue with you about it, as if you were going to reject his offer.

And at first you were, before you realized being indebted to the Waynes is infinitely better than being beaten so hard you see Bruce's parent's stupid faces by your dad.

"Okay." Is all you say, shooting him a thumbs up before looking to see if you had your bag - nope! You just gotta hope Sherri or Tia have it.

Duke looks flabbergasted for a minute before composing himself. "R-Right, yeah, sorry, I expected more.. Fight?" You watch as he visibly cringes and you can't help but deadpan.

You're from an impoverish family, one that wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. You are NOT risking anything.

"Hm. Well, you offered. I'm not going to decline such a wonderful and generous offer!" You try to hide your sneer but it seeps through your words no matter how hard you try.

With that you walk out of the room and to the receptionist at the front of the hospital. You explain how Duke is paying and leave.

The only good thing in Gotham is that the Hospitals are so out of line you could claim Bruce Wayne is paying and they'd just put him down.

Obviously no one is bold enough to do so in fear of Bruce noticing.

Walking home seemed quicker than normal, maybe you were just too eager to go home and collapse on your bed.

You quietly open the door to the apartment, it was already getting dark so you had to be careful.

But, once more, this is most definitely not your day.

Both your parents are up, you can hear your mom muttering to your dad about having a visitor. You walk into the kitchen, hungry, tired, and so done with everything you don't care if your parents hurt you.

Your mother shoots a glare to you while your father busies himself with his food - eating like a greedy pig.

"Where have you been?! We had a HIGHLY important guest here for you and you never arrived!" Her shrill voice grates on your ears and you turn to the pantry, hoping there would be something to eat.

"I was busy... School work and stuff.." You mutter, if you told your mom about the hospital visit she'd lose her head and you'd be on the streets in the blink of an eye.

That would mean your begging with Tim would be for nothing - you'd look like a fool for nothing.

"Stop muttering, child! That's not excusable! Now- What's that..?" You're mother cuts herself off once her eyes catch onto the new and expensive-looking box in your hand.

You hesitate before holding it out, she would've taken it from you anyway, best not to put up a fight.

"... Mr Grayson got me a new phone after accidentally breaking mine" You speak up, louder than before. You mom hated when you spoke under your breath, made her feel like she is the only one who can speak in the house.

She yanks it out of your hands and looks over it, your dad also seems to draw his attention to it. His eyes narrowing as he takes in the fancy thing in your mother's hands.

Your mother turns it around in her hands "Hm... You know, you don't need such a nice phone... You're only in high school. I'll take this and you can have my one!" She grins cockily.

Your dad slams his hands on the table and glares at you and your mom.

"Where is my one" he signs angrily. You gulp, you're in serious danger now..

"I.. Dick didn't get a second.. The phone was meant for me is all!" Your words falling out of your mouth like vomit.

To say your dad isn't happy would be an understatement. Your mom, noticing his demeanor, hums and says something about taking a shower as she leaves the kitchen.

Your dad stands up, fists clenched, he walks around the bench and stalks up to you. You take a step back, you can see your hands shaking in front of you as you brace for impact.

One punch across your jaw, a kick to the knee, a pull to your hair that brings you to the floor with a cry.

if it was a criminal and you were Aranea you would fight back, defend yourself. But, this is your dad, you can't bring yourself to fight back - you hate him, god you hate him.

A kick directs itself into your stomach, then your lips, then back down to your ribcage. You swear your gums are bleeding, you feel blood drip from your busted lip.

You do what you usually do when confronted with this situation.

You zone out, pretend you're in a better world, a better life.

Eventually you go unconscious, unaware of when or how. When you wake up you're on the kitchen floor and the morning light casts in your eyes like a lamp that's too bright.

You groan and sit up, blood on your tongue, your clothes, and your skin. You'll need to have a quick shower because school starts in an hour.

~

Taglist

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[midnightfict]

Back in Our Days.

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — When two, now estranged friends get caught in an unexpected encounter which triggers a feeling one thought was lost.

A/N — This story is loosely inspired by the song "Who Are You?" - Saga Faye. Please give me story requests, I get story inspirations from songs and/or real-life situations, and I'm currently up for a new challenge.

read pt. 2 here

— 𓆩𓆪 —

The streets of Seoul were bustling as usual. People hurried past, umbrellas shielding them from a faint drizzle. On opposite sides of the road, two figures unknowingly walked in parallel paths. You clutched your bag nervously, trying to avoid the water from ruining your belongings, while on the other side, a tall man in a sleek black coat walked confidently, his face partially hidden by a baseball cap.

As the traffic lights turned red, you stepped onto the crosswalk, and your eyes caught his. Something about him felt achingly familiar, but the thought slipped away as the two of you passed each other. Just as you reached the other side, an unexplainable tug made you glance back. You saw him turn too, his eyes meeting yours for a short moment.

“Byung-hun?” you murmured under your breath.

Gathering your courage, you waved with a bright smile, the kind you always used to greet him with back in the day. But instead of the warm recognition you expected, his expression remained monotone. He looked away and continued walking.

Your hand fell slowly, your smile fading. Hurt pricked at your chest, but you shook it off, convincing yourself there must be some explanation. You couldn't help but remember the joyful times you spent with him.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The bell rang, signaling the start of class, but the seat next to you was still empty. You tapped your pencil against your desk, glancing out the window. Moments later, Byung-hun slipped into the classroom, his hair slightly disheveled, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“You’re late,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“And you’re still here? I thought you’d be bored to death already,” he shot back with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. Byung-hun leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Wanna ditch?”

“What?” you whispered, eyes widening. “We can’t just—”

“C’mon, we're seniors. They won't bat an eye!” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your seat.

The two of you sneaked out through the back gate, muffling your laughter as the wind rushed past. The afternoon was spent at a nearby arcade, battling each other in games, eating street food, and talking about dreams that seemed so big back then.

"I want to be a famous actor," He proudly claimed.

"One day, I'm going to write a movie, and I'll make you the biggest actor in the world," You replied, supporting his dream.

As the sun began to set, you both sat by the riverbank, the golden light reflecting on the water.

“Promise me,” he said suddenly, turning to face you.

“Promise you what?”

“That no matter what happens, we’ll always stick together. Okay?”

You smiled, holding out your pinky. “Promise.”

He hooked his pinky with yours, his grin wide and genuine. “Promise.”

Later that evening, you both parted ways. Your grin and wave brought out a giggle from him. It was a small moment, but it stayed with you. You had no idea how much that promise would mean for him.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The memory faded as you found yourself back in the present, the bustling streets of Seoul grounding you once more. The ache in your chest deepened. What had changed? Why did he act like he didn’t know you?

A few days passed and he still lingers in your mind. You were scrolling through your phone when a message from your sister popped up. It was a video link accompanied by a single question:

Doesn't he used to go to your school?

You clicked on the link, your heart skipping a beat as a familiar face appeared on the screen. Lee Byung-hun. The caption read: “Rising Star Lee Byung-hun Shares His Story.”

In the video, he was seated on a sleek couch, his polished demeanor worlds away from the carefree boy you once knew. The interviewer asked about his childhood, and his response hit like a punch to the gut.

“Honestly, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere,” he said, his voice calm and composed. “High school was a lonely time for me. I didn't have any close relations.”

Your heart clenched. How could he say that? The boy who had once sworn to always be there for you—the boy you had shared countless memories with—now claimed he had no friends?

You replayed the clip, hoping you had misunderstood. But the words stayed the same. Each repetition felt like another crack in the foundation of your cherished memories. You closed the video and sat back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of confusion and hurt pressing heavily on your chest. Trying to distract yourself, you grabbed a random book to read. But fate seemed to have other plans.

A picture from your early high school days fell off the shelf. It was the two of you, grinning widely as you held up a trophy from a group project competition. The memory behind that photo stirred something deep inside you. You remembered how you had to practically drag him to the stage when he was too embarrassed to go up, telling him, “You did just as much as I did. If I’m going up, so are you.”

Your fingers hovered over the picture, and as you stared at it, the emotions bubbling within pulled you back further into another memory—your first encounter with Byung-hun. It was so vivid, as though the years separating then and now had disappeared entirely.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The classroom was crowded with chatter as the new student was introduced. Lee Byung-hun stood at the front, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“You can take the seat next to her,” the teacher said, pointing toward you.

He shuffled over, barely sparing you a glance as he sat down.

“Hi! How are you?” you said brightly.

He looked at you, surprised. “I'm fine, thanks.”

“Nice to meet you, Byung-hun. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Whether it was group projects, lunch breaks, or late-night phone calls, you had each other’s backs. You remembered the way he had slowly opened up, sharing stories about his old school and how he always felt like an outsider.

“Not anymore,” you had told him with a grin. “You belong here now.”

His smile had been shy but grateful. “Thank you,”

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Had those moments meant nothing to him? You felt tears sting your eyes, the hurt bubbling up uncontrollably. But almost immediately, you wiped your face, taking a deep, shuddering breath. This wasn’t you. You weren’t going to let these feelings drown you.

Needing to clear your head, you grabbed your house keys and slipped on your shoes. Fresh air would help, you told yourself. You stepped out into the cool evening, the faint rain lingering in the air. Without thinking, you began walking, letting your feet guide you as your mind remained tangled in memories.

At some point, you found yourself standing at the same crosswalk where you had seen Byung-hun just days ago. You froze for a moment, staring at the spot where you had smiled and waved, only to be met with his indifference. The pang of that memory made you glance down, biting your lip, before you continued walking.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realize how far you had gone until you stopped in front of a building that made you blink in surprise. It was the old arcade you and Byung-hun used to visit whenever you ditched school. The bright, flashing neon lights seemed almost out of place among the modern cityscape, but there it was—still standing after all these years.

Curiosity and nostalgia drew you in. The familiar jingle of the entrance bell brought a flood of memories. You wandered the aisles, eyes scanning the games you used to play together, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. It felt surreal, being back here after so long.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out, pulling you from your thoughts. An older man, likely one of the long-time workers, approached you with a curious expression. “You look familiar… Weren’t you a regular here back in the day? Always hanging out with that tall boy…”

You blinked, surprised that he remembered. “Uh, yeah. That was me,” you said with a sheepish smile.

“What was his name again? Byung-something, right?” the man asked, snapping his fingers as he tried to recall.

“Byung-hun,” you supplied softly, the name tasting bittersweet on your tongue.

“Ah, that’s right! Byung-hun! You two were always together. How’s he doing? Are you still in touch?”

The question made your heart twist. “I… no. We're not,” you admitted, averting your gaze.

The man’s face softened. “That’s a shame. You know, I could always tell he cared about you a lot. That boy… he liked you from the very beginning. Said so himself once.”

You froze, your breath catching. “What?”

The man chuckled, clearly unaware of the impact his words had. “Yeah, he mentioned it when you two came in here for the first time. He was so shy about it, though. Just kept watching you out of the corner of his eye, like you were the best thing he’d ever seen. But the last time I saw him, he was a mess. He said you left the country and he wasn't sure if you were going to come back. One thing he said he knew for sure though is that he lost you forever,”

Your mind reeled, the revelation hitting you like a train. All the memories you had shared with Byung-hun suddenly carried a new weight, a new meaning. To you, your goodbye meant a new chapter being written. But to him, it meant losing you—losing everything. Before you could process it further, the man was called away by another customer, leaving you standing there, stunned.

And then, as if the universe wanted to twist the knife, your thoughts shifted—to him. From his perspective, starting from the moment he had seen you again at that crosswalk.

— 𓆩Byung-Hun𓆪 —

Byung-hun adjusted the brim of his baseball cap as he walked briskly down the bustling street. He was on his way to a meeting for his upcoming film, the one everyone was talking about. His agent had reminded him—yet again—how important this role was for his rising career. But none of that was on his mind when he stopped at the crosswalk.

The moment he saw her, his heart stuttered. There she was, on the opposite side of the road, clutching her bag tightly like she always used to when she was nervous. His feet rooted to the ground, his breath catching in his chest. It had been years, but she hadn’t changed much. The same eyes, the same demeanor—still as beautiful as he remembered.

For a second, he thought about calling out to her, but the words died in his throat. How could he? He wasn’t the same person she used to know, and seeing her so cheerful, so bright—it hurt. She looked like she’d moved on, like she’d left their memories behind. And him? He had spent years trying to forget her, but here she was, undoing all of it with just a glance.

As they crossed paths, he saw her wave and smile at him, the same smile she used to give him back in high school. It took everything in him to keep walking, to pretend he didn’t know her. He wasn’t ready to face her, not when all the unresolved emotions threatened to spill over.

He forced his legs to keep moving, his jaw tightening as he left her behind. Once he was out of sight, he paused, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. His hands trembled as he adjusted his coat, but he shook his head and pushed himself forward. He had a meeting to attend.

Hours passed by, and Byung-hun sat at the long table, nodding along as the director explained the plot of his next project—a romance with a bittersweet ending. He should have been focused, taking notes, asking questions. But his mind was elsewhere.

“Byung-hun?” the director’s voice snapped him back to reality. “What do you think?”

He cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. “It’s… an intriguing story,” he replied, forcing a professional tone.

The plot they had described, two people brought together by fate, only to be torn apart by circumstances, felt uncomfortably familiar. It made him think of her, of the promises they had made back in high school. Promises that, in the end, neither of them could keep.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The days leading up to graduation were supposed to be exciting, full of plans and dreams for the future. But something had shifted between you and Byung-hun. You had been distant, avoiding his questions and brushing off his attempts to talk.

“Y/N,” he finally cornered you after class one day, his tone firm. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird.”

You hesitated, looking anywhere but at him. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled.

“It’s not nothing,” he pressed. “Just tell me.”

Before you could answer, a classmate approached, grinning. “Hey, Y/N! Congrats on the acceptance letter! How’s the prep for moving abroad going?”

Byung-hun froze, his eyes snapping to you. “Abroad?”

You winced, guilt written all over your face. “I was going to tell you…”

“When?” he demanded, his voice rising. “After you left? Or were you just never going to say anything?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” he repeated, his laugh bitter. “Do you even realize what this feels like? We promised we’d always be there for each other. And now you’re just leaving?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Byung-hun shook his head, his jaw clenching. “Do I even mean anything to you?”

The argument ended with no resolution. The days that followed were filled with silence, both of you too hurt to bridge the gap. But on the day of your flight, Byung-hun showed up at the airport.

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,” he said, his voice soft but strained. “I… I had to see you.”

You hugged him tightly, whispering apologies and promises to stay in touch. He hugged you back, but deep down, he knew things would never be the same.

"I'm chasing my dreams, Byung-hun. Dreams that I had never even thought were possible. I hope you'll understand and I know you will. You'll always stay in my mind... my best friend. And when I'm back, I better see your face plastered on every movie poster in town," You lightly joked.

He couldn't even crack a chuckle at her. Just tears and hiccups.

As he watched your plane take off, he wondered if you knew. If you knew, would you still go?

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Sitting in that conference room, Byung-hun felt the weight of those memories pressing down on him. The question that had haunted him for years resurfaced. Had she ever loved him the way he loved her? And if she did… was it too late to find out?

[malavera]

The Babysitter, pt. 2 (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: When Logan says he doesn't want you with anyone else, he really doesn't want you to be with anyone else, but him. After a failed attempt to unwrapped yourself around his fingers, you thought the situation would change, but you thought wrong, it's still the same. At night, he'd want you around, but at noon, it would feel like he doesn't know you at all. Too drown in his own work, but what happens when you're off the clock, and Logan catches you on a date with a boy your age?

an: can be read as a standalone!

pairing: origins!logan x female reader

warnings: 18+ Content, MDNI. Set in alternative universe where logan isn't a mutant, angst, no use of y/n, jealous logan, dark logan, naive reader, logan loves to call her with "dollface" legal age gap (logan is around 30 while reader is 22 pursuing a bachelor degree), SMUT; fingering, slight choking, dirty talking, daddykink, foul language

previous part here | logan masterlist here | support me here 🤍

��� divider creds, cafekitsune

♡ tags: @velvrei @bpmiranda @joelsgoldrush @kholdkill @fictionalmen-dilflover @marellabyr @superhoeva @yawnetu @thefreakcliche @rottenbabyfawn @milesjeon11 @bobateababe @wildlyobsessive @looking1016

The memory was vague in your head, it's like you were already born into this. It's like you're not someone who moved out of her family's home, in search for something promising out there to give food and shelter for the people back home while fighting for a much higher education, a bachelor's degree, in a foreign city. Your parents had sent you off with hopes bundled tightly into the folds of your suitcase—dreams of a bachelor's degree that would one day deliver you into the hands of a secure, well-paying future. They believed in that dream for you, and so you believed in it too. But reality never plays out as neatly as the promises whispered before you left.

You've caught yourself short on money, in a city full of strangers. The part-time jobs are scattered, inconsistent, fleeting. And just when you think the struggle might drown you, there’s a whisper. A friend of a friend of a friend, the kind of connection that feels like it’s made of smoke, tells you about a job. It pays well, they say. But there’s a catch. It always comes with a catch.

The catch is the little boy's 30 something year old father, who's gotten you dazed from the moment he opens the door to greet you and welcomed you inside his humble abode. The whiff of his body odor let alone could send you in a trance. But when the sun shone down, your eyes narrowed to where it's shooting, a flash of his gold wedding ring that's hugging around his ring finger. And of course, he is married.

And it was most likely started around three months ago. Now you're here, still trying to catch your breath as your chest heaves up and down, your back leaning against the wooden door of your apartment. As you brought your head up, you're instantly greeted with a girl that has her hair disheveled, her shirt slightly ruffled, and although she still looks pretty as ever, you always came home frowning.

And you wondered why you frowned, once you unlocked your door, got yourself in, and be greeted by the reflection of your disheveled looking. Weren't you smiling, three months ago since you started? The smile always faded once you stepped foot in the hallway and inching closer to your room at the end of the hall.

A ping from your laptop drew your attention, snapping your head in its direction. Pushing yourself off from the door now, you walked towards your desk and noticed that the sound was to notify a new email just came. It's from a guy you knew, he wasn't a friend, but he wasn't new. He'd asks if you could help him with a subject that he's struggling in and apparently the professor has recommend him to reach for you as you were his star student.

Adjusting your posture before typing your reply, and from that point on, the conversation transitioned to text messages. The two of you agreed to meet at the park after class tomorrow for a study session. It was your day off, so it wouldn’t conflict with your babysitting schedule.

A burst of giggles escaped the little boy’s lips as he chased after the butterfly, his tiny hands reaching for its delicate wings. The old man followed behind with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he watched the boy’s excitement. He kept a slow, steady pace, but when he saw his son suddenly come to a halt, he quickened his steps, ready to ask what had caught the boy’s attention. Before he could speak, the boy eagerly pointed ahead and shouted,

“Papa, look! It’s Missy Sitter!”

His voice was filled with delight as his small finger directed the man’s gaze toward you, seated at a picnic bench with a laptop open, surrounded by scattered books. The man’s eyes followed the boy’s gesture, taking in the sight of your petite frame, your long hair cascading down your back. For a brief moment, he admired the scene—until he noticed you weren’t alone.

You were sitting too close to someone, closer than he liked.

“C’mere, son,” he called, his voice soft yet firm, a subtle tension creeping into his posture.

“Come on, let’s say hello, Papa!” The boy’s voice bubbled with excitement as he broke into a sprint toward you. His eager footsteps caught you off guard, and you quickly stood up, a warm smile spreading across your face as you bent down to wrap him in a hug.

“James…” The old man’s voice followed, rough and low, his son’s name slipping from his throat like gravel. There was a tension in the way he muttered it, though he stood just a few steps behind, watching the two of you with unreadable eyes.

“Mister Howlett,” you greeted nervously, giving him a small nod as Logan approached. “I didn’t know you liked taking James out to this park,” you added, your voice trailing off, unsure of how to continue.

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smile at the sound of your soft voice, momentarily pushing aside the simmering annoyance that had clouded his mind. For a moment, he almost forgot what had irked him in the first place. Then again, why was he upset?

Ignoring your comment, he glanced toward the bench where your friend sat, observing the scene with an amused smile, clearly charmed by James. “Who’s your friend?” Logan asked, his voice steady, but his eyes narrowing slightly, betraying a hint of curiosity—or perhaps something more.

“Oh, this is Micah, my friend,” you said as you stepped back, gesturing toward your companion. “I’m helping him study for our major’s subject.”

Micah, ever the gentleman, rose from the bench with a polite smile, extending his hand toward Logan. For a brief moment, Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, a hesitation that almost made him dismiss the gesture. But with James watching curiously from beside you, he grudgingly took Micah’s hand, giving it a firm shake. His grip was strong, maybe a touch too strong, as if silently reminding Micah who he was dealing with.

Logan’s lips curved slightly in acknowledgment, though his eyes remained guarded. “Good to meet you,” he muttered, his voice cool and measured. Then, without missing a beat, he shifted his attention back to you and James, his posture still protective, as if assessing the situation.

“So, when are you coming back home?” Logan’s voice cut through the moment, leaving you blinking in confusion. Your eyebrows knit together as you quickly reached into your purse, pulling out your phone. You swiped through your calendar, certain today was your day off.

“Um, but it’s—”

“Yeah,” Logan interrupted, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. “I meant to text you. Got an emergency errand to run. James needed sitting.”

The way he said it was direct, almost too casual for the sudden shift in responsibility, and it left a strange tension in the air. Logan’s gaze never wavered as he spoke, but there was a certain weight to his words, like he expected you to just step in without hesitation.

"Oh, uh— we could wrap this up in maybe 30 minutes, if that’s okay with you, Micah?" you asked, turning to your friend, trying to navigate the sudden shift.

Micah nodded, offering an understanding smile. "Oh yeah, that’d be fine. Actually, I wasn’t planning to stay much longer anyway. There’s a family issue back home I need to take care of. We can always set up another study session later."

Logan’s lips twitched into a subtle, victorious smile at the turn of events, clearly pleased that things were aligning in his favor. But you noticed it—his barely contained satisfaction—and couldn’t help but frown slightly as you glanced at him. There was something in the way he silently claimed this small win that rubbed you the wrong way.

“Great, I’ll see you back home, Doll,” Logan said, his voice casual but laced with something more. The nickname caught you completely off-guard, leaving you momentarily speechless as you watched him reach for James’s small hand.

Your eyes followed them, still processing the unexpected term of endearment. Logan’s smirk didn’t escape your notice, a hint of smugness flashing across his face as he glanced back at you briefly. Then, just as quickly, he looked down at James, his expression softening before they walked away, leaving you standing there, the weight of that single word lingering in the air between you.

The Howlett residence wasn’t far from the park, so after finishing up with Micah, you felt relieved knowing you could make it back easily. Just as you were about to leave, Micah caught you off guard with a question.

“Hey, before you go, how about another study session sometime? And maybe… dinner afterward?” His tone was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness beneath his words.

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. It wasn’t that Micah wasn’t attractive—he was perfectly decent, even charming in his own quiet way. But it wasn’t just about looks. He was the kind of guy who checked all the right boxes: kind, respectful, smart. Maybe too decent, you thought. Yet the surprise wasn’t in him asking, but in him choosing you.

You were always the quiet one in class, keeping to yourself, never standing out or being vocal like some of the other girls. Popularity wasn’t something you chased, and yet, here he was, showing interest. It left you momentarily stunned, unsure how to respond to the idea that someone like Micah would actually want to take you out.

Which you politely accepted, his invitation.

Was the smile on your face too obvious? You hadn’t realized it until you stepped into the Howlett household and heard Logan’s voice cut through the air.

“What’s got you all smiling, Dollface?” he asked, catching you completely off guard. You gasped, stopping dead in your tracks as your eyes found him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his hands gripping the edges, his gaze steady on you.

You quickly gathered yourself, fixing your composure as you made your way toward him, hugging your laptop bag and books tightly to your chest. "N-nothing, Lo—"

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his head tilting slightly to the side as his eyes bore into you, his expression unreadable. His voice was flat, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn’t buying your excuse.

You frowned, setting your things down on the small dining table across from him, keeping a couple of steps between you, an invisible barrier. His presence was palpable, and you weren’t sure if it was the tension or something else that kept you from moving closer.

“C’mere.” His voice dropped an octave, carrying that quiet intensity that only surfaced when he felt the need to assert control. It wasn’t a request—it never was when he used that tone. He knew how to use it to keep you just within his reach, and somehow, you always felt compelled to follow.

You forced down a swallow before cautiously making your way toward him. The moment you were within reach, Logan’s hand shot out, gripping your hips with an iron-like hold. In one swift motion, he turned you around, pressing you firmly against the counter. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back met the hard edge, the cool surface biting into your skin. The sudden closeness left you breathless, his presence overwhelming as his body crowded yours, trapping you between him and the counter.

“I want you to stop seeing him,” Logan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Logan—I can’t. He needs me, and I need the bonus for—”

“What, more money? Doll, I could get you however much you need. Just tell me, and stop seeing him.” He cut you off, and your eyes shot up to glare at him.

“It’s not about the money; it’s for my grades! And not everything is about money, Logan!” you shot back, frustration boiling beneath the surface. You gasped as you feel his hand flew to grab you by the throat, slightly squeezing it.

"Don't ever use that tone with me, Doll. Remember who you belong to." Logan hissed, glaring at you. He thought with him showing authority might bring your anger boil down, be he thought wrong, instead you shot back again.

"Who? You? As far as I know, after I attempted to tap out, you wouldn't let me and you promised me more. But what, Logan? You still treated me like no one during the day, but a whore at your mercy at night?" The end of your empowering statement came out more like a question. In which you continued, "You knew how I felt about you," Emotion welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over like a dam about to break.

Logan's expression softened, his grip on you loosen as he watched your lips tremble. "I only want you, Logan. But you treated me like trash, I—I tried to get out, you wouldn't let me. And now, you finding me out with a boy that didn't mean no harm to me, all of a sudden I'm somewhat precious to you? Too precious to be seen with anyone but you?" Each word felt heavy in the air, laced with frustration and hurt, as you confronted him with the tangled mess of emotions that had been building between you.

Logan sighed, shushing you gently as you began to sob, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. As your body collided with his warmth, a wave of instinctual comfort washed over you, causing your entire demeanor to melt into his arms. The anger that had been simmering within you, ready to boil over, gradually cooled, leaving you feeling vulnerable and frustrated.

You hated this feeling, this surrender. You hated that you couldn’t fight him, that the fierce resolve you’d built up seemed to dissolve the moment he held you close. It was infuriating how easily he could draw you in, making it hard to remember why you were so upset in the first place. The warmth of his body against yours brought a conflicting sense of safety that only deepened your inner turmoil.

“I—I love you… Logan,” you whispered against his chest, the confession escaping your lips like a fragile secret. He shushed you gently, rocking the two of you side to side, creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort. The weight of your words hung in the air, and you realized what you had just spilled; you had poured your heart out to him, and now you were finally ready to confront the truth.

You didn’t care that he was married, that he had a son. All that mattered was the undeniable pull you felt toward him. You pulled away slightly, searching his eyes as you repeated, “I love you, Logan. I really do. I really, really love you.” The urgency in your voice was palpable, and you needed him to understand the depth of your feelings.

But Logan didn’t say anything in response, and his expression was unreadable. Confusion and uncertainty flickered across his features, making your heart race. Instead of answering, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch both tender and commanding. Then, without warning, he connected his lips to yours.

The kiss was indescribable—electric and intoxicating. It sent a rush through your entire being, leaving you breathless and momentarily lost in the moment. You couldn’t tell if he was kissing you to acknowledge your confession or if he simply wanted to silence you, to avoid confronting the strange reality that a young girl had fallen for his old-married-ass.

In that heartbeat, everything else faded away. The doubts, the complications, and the chaos of your emotions blended into the background, leaving only the taste of him lingering on your lips and the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

"You belong to me," Logan murmured in between the kiss as you softly moan with your eyes closed. His thumb softly caressing your cheeks while both of your lips are fighting in the battle. "No one else, but me," His words sounded like a vow.

His hands found their way to your waist as he lifted you up to set you down on the kitchen counter. Your legs spread open automatically to welcome him in between them before you both proceeded to tangled each other's lips.

You whimpered when his teeth slightly nib on your bottom lip, as Logan smirked before forcing his tongue down your throat. His right hand comfortably wrapped around your throat, the cold sensation of his wedding finger kept you from melting furthermore into his touch. Logan sensed you're not fully enjoying this as he convinced you to fully succumbed to him by wrapping his hand tighter around your throat earning a moan from your lips.

His right hand then slowly unwrapped as it goes down, lingering freely across your body, caressing your chest down to the hem of your sundress. Logan broke the kiss to move down connecting his lips to your neck as you tossed your head back, rolling your eyes shut moaning his name. His left hand placed comfortable behind your back, as his right hand travels down caressing your soft skin of your thighs.

"Please, please, please..." You whimpered, chills ran down your spine when you felt his warm tongue gliding against the skin of your neck.

"Please what, Dollface?"

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you aren't I?" Logan pulls his face away from your neck to fixated his gaze upon your eyes, darkened by needs and raw, aching longing. A smirked appears on his face, "What are you talking about, doll? Aren't I touching you?" Logan teased, as his right hand caress your thigh up and down, his thumb slipping towards your inner thigh, almost reaching your heat.

"Not there." You murmured with your lips trembling, your head feels heavy as Logan kept on teasing you with his touch.

"Where, doll?" Logan scrunched his eyebrows together, pretending to not understand what you're saying as his right hand finally goes to reach your throbbing heat, clothed with your white laced panties. "Here?" Logan inched his face closer to you as he nudged his nose against yours, his hot breath fanned against your lips.

"Use your words, Dollface." He commanded, as you whimpered while you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Yes,"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, daddy." You whispered.

Logan's laugh erupted, cold and mocking, like a predator toying with its prey, "Good girl." And with that, by ease, he ripped your panties off as you automatically leaned back, spreading your legs wider. Logan's hands went underneath both of your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the kitchen counter.

His left hand went to your back, snaking its way up to nestle at your nape to push your body upwards, connecting your forehead against his. "Open up," He demanded, and by default, you opened your mouth to welcome his two fingers inside. Your tongue swirling and coating his fingers with your saliva, a faint, salty tang lingers on your tongue, mixed with the warmth of his skin and Logan watched you being a good girl, sucking on his two digits. He gently pulls away once he's satisfied and went down to reach your heat.

He gently plays with your clit as you tossed your head back, letting out a moan. "Angh..." When his fingers slowly go down to reach your tiny hole. He teased your hole a little, collecting your moist, before pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt. Another loud moan earned from you, as Logan kept pushing his two digits inside.

"This what you want?" Logan mumbled, glancing down to his fingers inside your pussy before glancing back up to watch your face contorted into pleasure. He rolled his fingers slowly, feeling the spongey walls of your cunt against his pad. "I don't think that boy's fingers can get you this desperate, right?" You only moaned out loud for him, opening your eyes watching his sharp ones.

"Come on, Doll. Y'know who you belong to." Logan smirked and with that he started to flick his fingers inside your cunt, increasing his pace.

"Ah, shit! Daddy!" You shrieked, throwing your head back, your hands resting back to support your weight.

"I know, doll. So good, huh?" Logan mumbled, watching his fingers doing his work. "It's just my fingers inside your cunt, you forgot how it feels when it's my cock?" Logan breathed, his heartbeat increasing from excitement watching you vulnerable on his fingers. He started to thrust his fingers in and out of you, without hurting you, whilst flicking here and there.

"Come on, doll. Cum for me," His left hand went to your back, pushing your body upwards with force. "Open your eyes, I wanna see you shatter." Logan growled, connecting his forehead with yours.

You whimpered, tears stream down your cheeks as you slowly opened your eyes. "There we go, come on, baby, cum for me. Cum for daddy, I know you want to."

"D-daddy..." You whimpered and with that, you reached your high, gushing down his fingers while he kept working it inside you, emptying your fluid.

"Thaaaat's ittt... Good girl, good girl, baby." He whispered as he gently pulls out his fingers. You small smiled, your chest heaves up and down trying to catch your breath.

"About what you said before," He started, you forced down your saliva, mentally embracing yourself to receive his answer. Your once calmed heartbeat now raced back. as his mouth went agape to say something, you both jumped in surprised when the front door sounded open and closed.

"Momma's home boys!"

[diushek]

Shitty talking with my sister, we can't stop laughing at the: look, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu's first son decides to court Liu Qingge.

His parents disagree (Shen Qingqiu not so much, he would understand why someone would fall for Liu Qingge after all), of course, but faced with the hypocrisy of their own actions, they just give Liu Qingge a warning and let everything... happen.

Their second daughter, their precious, spoiled and delicate little girl, decides that she doesn't want to be a cultivator, she wants to embrace her demonic side and her role in the court of the demon realm. Shen Qingqiu knows that it's only a matter of time until she ends up tangling with some demon... But he doesn't expect it to be Sha Hualing!!!

Their third daughter, beautiful and more spoiled than the previous one, thank goodness, doesn't get involved with someone twice her age. She has a healthy friendship with Mobei-jun and Shang Qinghua's eldest daughter, just a couple of months older than her, which slowly and sweetly evolves into a first love, first romance and first courtship for both princesses. Very sweet and beautiful.

Their fourth son randomly runs away with a disciple of Bai Zhan and they return after a month married. Well, to be expected honestly, and better than someone twice his age (not that Shen Qingqiu is being hypocritical, but they are their children!! He has the right to be a little protective about that!!!)

Their fifth child (and the last one Shen Qingqiu decided to have given birth; honestly, he doesn't plan on fathering any more children in his body for at least a century, despite his husband's pouting - and the indecent suggestions that Luo Binghe would now be proud to be the one to carry their offspring) doesn't seem interested in anyone yet, which is... slightly disturbing, if compare him to his siblings. He's in his early twenties, and he's a wonderful, charming, skilled, and strong young man; as always, Binghe's heritage is strong, but perhaps too much so in his youngest son, who, except for Shen Qingqiu's hair, seems cloned from his heavenly demon father... Although there is perhaps something firmer in his face when he grows up that can only be similar to Tianlang-jun. He also has a calmer and more relaxed temper, a smooth appearance which distinguishes him very well from his siblings.

... And Shen Qingqiu may be a little worried about him.

Haven't they done things right with him? It's not that he wants his son to have a partner or any kind of romantic relationship, not at all!!! In his eyes he will always be his baby! His youngest son!! But, at that age, his siblings were already in their... eh, personal affairs. So, Shen Qingqiu just... wonders if maybe he screwed up somewhere in his upbringing. Okay, maybe Luo Binghe and him were a little harsh on their sister when she had that surprise wedding with Sha Hualing when their youngest son was like four years old, but those were parental fears!!! That can't traumatize a child into a lifelong single, lonely life, right...??

Then it's one of the monthly meetings of Peak Lords. Shen Qingqiu does not usually arrive early, that is true, but Binghe wasn't at home for a brief emergency at the demon court, his son had also gone out, and with nothing to do, well, maybe he could chat with Qi Qingqi or something while they waited for the meeting to start.

His first warning sign is that the door is closed. Well, that's strange, since usually on days where there are monthly meetings, the doors are wide open. Then he pushes the door and the fan falls from his hands, shocked.

There is his son, like a predator loudly feeding from someone's mouth. Well, Shen Qingqiu doesn't have to worry about his not-so-little younger son's singleness anymore, BUT STILL-

Because the one sitting on the table surrounded by fallen scrolls, blushing like a schoolgirl, completely disheveled and with clear signs of having been kissed for a long time, is Yue Qingyuan.

... Shen Qingqiu closes the door perhaps a little too loudly before leaving as fast as possible. YEA, WELL. HE’S DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO MENTION THAT TO BINGHE. IF POSSIBLE, NEVER.

Out of sight, out of mind. He is not ready for this conversation and will not be anytime soon.

Maybe he should ask Shang Qinghua what to do; a lot time has happened since the wedding of Liu Qingge and his firstborn, and after all, the Shang Qinghua's second daughter decided that she had to court Qi Qingqi (and she is in the process of doing so). Then maybe his friend is more in tune with how to deal with that crisis...

(Shang Qinghua is not. He laughs and cries loudly and begs Shen Qingqiu to please betroth their future children each other before they are born to avoid giving more spouses to the other Peak Lords of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

With a much-needed gulp of rice wine, Shen Qingqiu agrees.)

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 5)

Pairing : Boss! Dean Winchester X Assistant! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, slight violence (a well deserved punch), language, John and Mary Winchester, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Y/n emerged from the women's room and went back to her work space. She knew she looked like a mess even after putting her best efforts to look presentable. With a deep breath she sat back on her desk, thankful Dean was in a meeting. She had zoned out and hadn't realised how much time had passed until a knock on her desk pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see a pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"Earth to Y/n." Cas grinned but his grin faltered the minute he saw her eyes, puffy and red, the sight made him furrow his brows.

"Cas! What're you doing here?" She asked happily getting up from her chair and rounding the desk to greet him with a hug. "I thought you were in France." She said wrapping her arms around his torso. The man didn't hesitate to return the embrace.

"I was, but the event wrapped up early so I came back." He replied pulling away slightly so he could look at her better. "What happened?" He questioned. His gaze fell to her hand where he was expecting to see a ring on her finger but the vacant finger confused him even more. Dean had told him over the phone that he'd proposed and you'd said yes. So why on earth is your finger empty and your eyes red.

Dean stepped out of the elevator after he was done with the meeting and he watched Cas and Y/n talking outside his office. He took in her disheveled appearance and his heart clenched in his chest. She looked so small, and broken, all because of him. He'd promised to never hurt her and that's what he ended up doing. He could tell she'd cried, her puffy and red eyes had given that away.

"Y/n? Where's your ring?" Dean heard Cas ask and his gaze fell to her hand, the sight broke his heart. She'd taken it off. "Didn't Dean propose? He said you said yes." Cas prodded further but she didn't say anything until her gaze fell upon Dean approaching them, not necessarily them, but his office. She watched as he moved past them and reached his office door and that's when she spoke.

"Propose? Cas you've known me since college, I've never been the one they proposed to, I'm the one they 'love' and leave." She sneered and Dean's grip tightened onto the doorknob. He hated hearing her talk about herself like that but shes not even giving him a chance to explain. He felt his anger flaring up and he went inside his office slamming the door behind him.

Cas looked between his two friends feeling completely out of the loop but he felt this was bigger than a petty argument and he's never known Y/n to overreact so if something happened it was big. And most probably Dean's fault. All rationality left his brain when he saw his friend hurt and his best friend being the reason of her tears. He went inside Dean's office, where Dean was pacing back and forth. He grabbed the CEO by his arm and punched him straight in the jaw.

"What the fuck, Cas?" Dean growled holding his jaw.

"What did you do?" Cas glared at his best friend.

"Why do you think I did something?" Dean asked feeling offended his best friend was accusing him.

"Your face says it all so spill, or Lord so help me." Cas threatened. He was gonna beat him to a pulp if he didn't come clean right here, right now. Dean knew Cas was a peaceful person and if he's threatening to choose violence, he will resort to it. He's already lost his fiancée, he doesn't want to lose his best friend too. The two men sat on the chairs placed on the either side of Dean’s desk.

"I went to see mom and dad a week ago." He started.

Dean walked into his childhood house, he was greeted by smiling faces of John, Mary and Sam. It brought a smile to his face as well. Dean teased Sam about how Jess’ not here since they’re always attached to the hip. Mary cleared her throat before speaking,

“There’s something I need to tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d react so I thought it’d be better if it’s just us.” That made Dean tense up. He didn’t like the way this conversation started.

“Is everything okay?” Dean asked looking back and forth between his parents.

“On the surface yeah.” Mary replied. “Dean you’re thirty. You’re not getting any younger and I want you to settle down.” She said getting straight to the point.

“Okay..” Dean trailed off, this isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He just has to tell them about Y/n and their engagement now.

“And the way you’ve been immersed in work, I don’t see you getting settled anytime soon so we’ve decided to arrange with you someone.” Mary said and Dean’s jaw dropped to the floor. Did his family really think he’s that much of a workaholic that he can’t find a partner for himself? That’s bullshit.

“Excuse me?” Dean growled standing up from his seat.

“She’s the niece of your dad’s old friend. Her name’s Rachel.” Mary said with a finality in her voice.

“Rachel? The one I went to school with? What the fuck is wrong with you all?” Dean yelled.

“She likes you.” Mary added, trying to convince her son.

“I don’t give a fuck. You have no right to meddle in my life.” Dean growled. John who had been quiet all this time finally spoke.

“Dean, don’t talk to your mother like that.” His voice boomed.

“And you’re not hearing what she’s saying?” Dean retorted.

“Dean calm down.” Sam said setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder which the older brother shrugged off.

“Dean this arrangement is for the benefit of the company as well. And your mother wants you to settle down. What’s so wrong in that?” John exclaimed loudly.

“My company is doing great without anyone’s support and what’s wrong with this arrangement is that I have someone in my life and I won’t marry anyone else besides her.” Dean declared.

“Watch your tone, boy. That company is mine, need I remind you I’m still the owner of that company. And you’re the CEO because I made you.” John asserted making Dean scoff.

“You made me CEO because i worked hard for it. You didn’t just give it to me, I earned it.” Dean sneered back at his father.

“The decision has been made. You either marry Rachel or you lose the title of CEO.” John bellowed and the room fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was Dean’s harsh breathing. Without another word Dean left his parent’s house, slamming the door on his way out.

“Dude that’s fucked up.” Cas muttered as Dean finished his story.

“Yeah tell me about it.” Dean rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you tell her?” Castiel asked gesturing outside the door. Dean shook his head staring at the ceiling. “What’re you gonna do now?

“I don’t know, Cas. I love her to death. I don’t want anyone else. But I’ve worked too hard for where I am. It’s so fucking complicated. I don’t even know what to tell her.” He sighed rubbing his face. “How am I going to tell her that I can’t choose between her and my work?”

“You’ve worked hard for this, Dean. Everyone knows that.” Castiel said softly. He felt dejected he couldn’t help his friend. “And I know Y/n. She wouldn’t want you to give it up.” He added.

“That’s also something which scares me. She’d tell me to choose this.” Dean said gesturing to his office. “She’d put me first and I can’t even imagine to bear the look on her face when she does it.” Dean could feel tears springing in his eyes, just at the thought of loosing her for good. “I thought I’d deal with this mess without her knowing about it. But then Rachel showed up.”

“Dean.” Cas said seriously that made Dean look at him. “You have to tell her. She’s falling down in a deep hole of self doubt.” Dean nodded agreeing with Cas. He knows its going to be hard, but he has to go through with it.

Tags:

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@10ava01 @jackles010378

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hear me out .. Friends with benefits with Kenpachi, Shunsui , Jushrio & Byakuya. 😩 Down bad for all of them & 🥰 Obsessed your writing!

A/n: Hi!! I'm grateful that you like my writings. Here is your request and I hope you like it ❤️

Tw: Nsfw, Suggestive content

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Kenpachi :

I mean, he's the type that if he gets involved with someone, that person will necessarily be his property, especially because the marks he leaves leave no doubt. At first it's a little confusing because he thinks: Who the hell would fuck their best friend and then act completely normal? However, he didn't mind having a slightly more "intimate" friendship with you, something that only the two of you know. Even if it's just a few nights where you and him take a little escape from the world and visit each other's rooms from time to time, there is no fixed love relationship. However, he doesn't stop getting jealous when someone is talking to you or too close, he doesn't admit it but his eyes speak for themselves. You're still his even outside his bedroom. He is the one who takes you to his room several times, not only because you are someone who is very close to him, something that applies to few people, but also because if he is not in a good mood he turns to you to talk about something less pleasant than happened to him. Not only does he like having you lying underneath him, he also likes to rest his head on your chest to get some rest. Okay I definitely want this man now

Shunsui :

It's more common than it seems with this man. Firstly because he is not satisfied with just one woman because he is a pervert and a womanizer and secondly for the same reason as the first. He and you have been friends for some time and this concept came about when he invited you out for a drink one night and things started to get out of control and before you knew it you were already involved with him, more than you had planned but didn't regret it. But who could blame you for that? That man's charm is a danger You two try to appear discreet but everyone in the room already knows what's going on between you two, he doesn't even try to hide it, especially when he has the habit of holding your hand in the middle of the hallway or when he peeks under your skirt. He's the one who usually knocks on your bedroom door on some nights and with a silly smile and winks at you and you realize what he's coming for. He knows that despite everything, you are just two beautiful friends outside of your bedroom *cough* his bedroom *cough* the office *cough* among other places... He's going to have to contain himself a lot of times so he doesn't act stupid and kiss you in front of everyone, in the middle of the street.

Jushiro :

In his case, we can no longer say that it is something common. I don't see him being the type who would want a friend with benefits but it also wouldn't be something he would say no to. He finds it easy to talk to you and be close to you without mentioning this topic, unlike Shunsui who always seems to be trying something. Above all, he is a great friend and respects you a lot. Here you are the one who usually starts things just to see that pretty face change into something a little different from the usual innocent and smiling one. You loved seeing him lose his composure and blush. He won't tell anyone about it, and besides, he can't assume something that doesn't really exist. Just a few nights here and there. He will only do it if you agree. He would really like to have something with you and would be happy if you wanted it too.

Byakuya :

So, he never thought about being in a position like this of having a friend who isn't just a friend. At least he's good at keeping the situation confidential and following the rules, given his serious personality. He's the best at doing it and no one finds out that you two have something, not even Renji who found you in the hallway with your hair disheveled and your clothes a little ill-fitting. Byakuya knows what he's doing. It may not seem like it but he trusts you a lot as a friend and subordinate in his division, even having a certain higher level in relation to the others, something that he tries to control but sometimes it escapes him. In most cases, it's you coming into the office late at night and "giving him a break". He, in turn, only invites you to go to his room to punish you for doing it, even if he loves it but doesn't admit it. There are no bonds and he is good at controlling his emotions, these are just secret nights between both of you, no one needs to know. In my opinion I don't think I would be as good at controlling myself around him as he does.

[iheartjohnlennon]

PLEASEE DO A NSFW ALPHABET OMG THE WAY YOU WRITE THE BEATLES IS MY FAV😭😭

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - John

@heiterhund <<<<<<<<<<<< CO-WRITOR TO THIS, WOULD NOT HAVE DONE ANYTHING WITHOUT HER, BEST BEATLES WRITER (OTHER THAN ME) 😍🩷🎀

A is for Aftercare (How he treats you after sex, what happens after sex, etc...)

• John is an absolute sweetheart.

• After sex he's all quiet, attentive and mellow. He talks to you without really talking to you. 

• He comes down hard from his orgasms, feeling as though you and him are the only ones on planet earth.

• He's definitely a cuddler too - big spoon.

John turned to you, his hair dishevelled, his face flushed. You were the same, though you looked a lot more messy. 

His cock was still slightly hard and in his fist, but he wanted to rest.

"You okay?" He breathed. 

"Yeah," you smiled.

John slowly shifted around to hold you in his arms. His chest warm against your back. Naked and satisfied.

B is for Body part (His favourite body part of yours)

• John loves your legs and your hips and your feet. Every inch, from your hips to your soles. 

• He loves them because he likes interacting with them in various scenarios.

• When he's holding your hips to fuck into you as you ride him...when he lifts you by your legs...when you playfully wrap around each other...when he kisses and licks your toes...

• Yes, your legs are very versatile for him.

C is for Cum (Where and why he likes to cum) 

• Facials are most definitely his go to.

• John loves cumming on your face more than anything, it's degrading yet loving.

• He loves how he can see your eyes looking right at him as he does so.

He usually slaps the tip against your cheek, grinning as he sees his semen dripping to your lips and chin. If he’s feeling caring, he’ll use his thumb to wipe it off, before pressing it to your lips.

How sweet.

D is for Dirty secret (Something filthy that he did/or does/or wants to do behind your back.)

• John takes pictures of you, explicit ones.

• Sometimes he's fooling around. You're both out of it. But you're so out of it you forget he takes them. He doesn't forget though.

• Sometimes he takes them secretly, through a slightly open door as you undress…

• He's your own personal voyeur. You never even notice. 

• He keeps the pictures safe, admires them every so often and rubs himself off to them like the man that he is. It's his collection of sorts. 

• John thinks you're absolutely gorgeous, you are gorgeous. He imagines you being on the cover of Playboy or something, but his jealousy and possessiveness would never allow you to be seen by masses of men.

John turned away to retrieve his camera from the bedside table.

"Let's capture this moment, love," he whispered, his lips grazing against yours. 

Your vision was hazy.

"Oh, that's a bit filthy isn't it, John?" You said, sighing. 

John smirked, the corners of his mouth quivering. He liked you like this. 

"Filthy? Well, that's the whole idea." He whispered, sitting up. 

He pulled your bra down further, your nipples were perfectly exposed now, he laid quick kisses against them. 

You were an absolute vision to him.

Laying on his silk hotel sheets, drinking, smoking and eating yourself blind - all simultaneously.

And he was definitely ready to have you afterwards. 

Your laughter bubbled over as you teased, "I hope you're not planning to sell these to the papers."

He chuckled nervously, he had thought about it before - just a little fantasy.

The camera clicked in one hand, his cock was being rubbed through his boxers in the other. 

"No," he breathed, palming himself harder.

"This is just for our little memory vault. These photos are like all our other photos, right?"

John massaged his balls, eager to cum.

"You're the star here." He groaned. 

You giggled.

"Me, a star? Oh, stop it, you're making me blush."

John grinned, adjusting the camera.

"Blush harder. Now, can you slip out of your skirt for me, lovely?"

You did so, and slowly. It slipped off your hips nicely, leaving your bottom half only in your knickers. 

"You're so demanding, Johnny."

With a sly wink, John retorted, "Demanding? Maybe a bit. But you can handle it, can't you, hm?"

And so the camera clicked, again.

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?) 

• John lost his virginity to some whore in Liverpool well before he was eighteen. So he lost it well before he legally even could. 

• He knows enough, he knows a lot in fact, way more than you do definitely.

• He knows enough to please you more than you can please him.

• He loves teasing you about it, saying how much of a square you used to be.

• Something about your lack of experience is hot, especially because it makes him feel in control. 

F is for Favourite position (How he loves to fuck you.)

• John loves cowgirl. 

• He loves when you ride him, your hands flat on his chest.

• The sight of you on top of him just really does it for him. His hands get to roam every where.

• And though it seems like you're in control, he'll often grab your hips and thrust himself up and down, fucking into you. 

• If he's feeling energetic, sometimes he'll flip you onto your back so he can finish in missionary. His head deep in the crook of your neck as he gets closer.

G is for Goofy (How silly is he during sex?) 

• John likes making jokes here and there. He's funny, even in something as serious as sex.

• You'll moan "Yess" and he'll moan "Yess" right back - mocking you.

John will ask "Just like that?" when he knows he's really hitting the spot. He'll ask you questions he knows you can barely answer as your being fucked.

And when you moan something that isn't his name like, "Oh, God." He'll reply, "My name's John, thanks."

He's just a goofy guy. 

G is also for Goal (What's his goal and/or dream in relation to sex.) 

• John's goal is to have you in as many places as possible, places within reason of course. 

• He'll challenge you as well, whispering into your ear, "Do you think we could fuck here without being heard?" or "You'd look so pretty bent over that, y'know."

• He's had you in the classic places, like a car, a broom closet - but that just isn't enough for him.

• John won't stop until he makes you cum in as many places as possible.

H is for Hair (How well groomed he is, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

• John doesn't particularly care for grooming and he can't be bothered to regularly trim, shave or whatever.

• If he ever does do anything to his pubes, just know he was definitely fucking bored. 

I is for Intimacy (How romantic he is during sex, etc..)

• John just isn't the type for candles or music or rose petals. He just wants to get right to it. 

• Though, if it's a special occasion like Valentine's day or your birthday or something, he'll put in the effort to serenade you and fuck you on a bed of roses.

• Though he may say some things that are sweet and fluffy, the only thing he needs to show you is his cock, that's his romantic gesture. 

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon) 

• John occasionally rubs himself off when he doesn't have access to a cunt.

• He thinks of you deeply whenever he does so, cumming hard all over his fist. 

• It’s annoying to do, because nothing feels better than your vagina- but if he uses his imagination ( or those dirty photos he’s taken ) jacking off is the best feeling ever.

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks in relation to you) 

• John has a moderate pain kink and he's definitely the sadist in most situations, the giver.

• If you ask him to hit you (erotically) he'll do it, hesitantly but happily.

• John has a mommy kink (duh).

• He'll suck your tits and get you to cradle his head whilst he does so. Sometimes he calls you the m-word...mother.

• John has feet kink...

• He likes when you paint your toe nails nice colours. He's like massaging your feet. He's taken your toes into his mouth a lot of times.

L is for Location (Favourite places to do the deed) 

• John loves obscure and semi-public places way more than a mere bed. 

• So places like broom closets, a car, a park - all that jazz.

• He enjoys the risk and the fun involved in those places. 

M is for Motivation (What turns them on about you, gets him hard, makes him cum, etc..) 

• Your voice turns him on the most, before and during sex. Especially when he knows you want it bad.

• Your little moans before your orgasm, those get him there. 

N is for No (Turn offs, what pisses him off, etc..) 

• When you argue earlier in the day, like a proper bad argument, that turns him off for the rest of the day.

• When you can't resolve your issues he doesn't even look at you. He feels detached from you almost.

O is for Oral sex (Does he prefer giving or receiving? How does he give, how does he receive?) 

• John 100% prefers both, he just can't choose between the two. Both bring him immense joy and pleasure.

• He eats you out nicely, enthusiastically. He usually doesn't make you orgasm with just that, it's just a fun, little extra to him.

• Prepare to have your mouth absolutely run through when you're sucking John's cock. No part of his cock is left unlicked or unsucked or untouched by you.

P is for Pace (Fast or slow? Rough or sensual?) 

• His pace is gradual and building.

• He starts slow, then gets faster when he's about to make the both of you cum.

• John leaves being rough for when he's hate or jealous fucking you.

Q is for Quickie (His opinion on quickies, how often they happen, etc..)

• He's not opposed to them, he quite enjoys them actually, but of course he'd prefer having you all by himself with all the time in the world. 

• They happen when you're both drunk or high, it's a moment of irresponsibility. 

• Or they happen when you both haven't seen each other in a while and you just can't wait.

R is for Risk (What kind of risks will they take)

• He'll take public risks, so sex in public. He finds it thrilling, you know, the thought of getting heard and caught. 

• He gets off on someone hearing, someone being a voyeur. 

S is for Stamina (How many rounds he can last, how quickly can they cum, etc..)

• John can last one round but it's a nice length, 20 minutes minimum. 

• He doesn't cum too quick, well, depending on the situation, if he has to cum quick he will, so if you're having a quickie.

• But yeah, he doesn't cum too quickly, so expect that twenty minutes of that cock.

T is for Toys (Does he own toys, use them, what kind of toys, etc?) 

• John personally doesn't own toys because he wouldn't be able to get over the embarrassment of buying and owning them.

• He does try to coax you into buying them for yourself though, he would like watching you use them on yourself.

U is for Unfair (How much does he like to tease you, how does he tease you, etc..) 

• John isn't that unfair. He's not the type to edge you or delay orgasm. 

• Verbal teasing 100% though. 

• And he teases you before he fucks you anyways. So by kissing and rubbing you in areas that make you want more...neck...clit.

V is for Volume (How loud is he, what noises does he make, what does he say, etc..) 

• John groans like a wild animal, he's talkative as well, loves making little comments before and during and after. 

• People can definitely hear him through the walls.

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon) 

• Lennon loves a good roleplay situation - anything sexy. Nurse and patient, teacher and student, etc…

• He has such a big ego, so he particularly likes when you pretend to be some beatlemaniac.

• Yeah, he always cums so fucking hard during your little role plays.

“Oh my GOD! IS THAT JOHN LENNON?”

You screeched, feet stomping in place as you jump and giggle like a virgin schoolgirl.

John can’t help but look annoyed, his brows lowering as he quickly looks around. 

You just blew his fucking cover with your high pitched squeals and your bouncing up and down.

Oh, how he hated these types of fans.

“Yes! Yes! It is, oh my GOD.” 

You all but scream, throwing yourself on the man.

He doesn’t stifle the annoyed groan that leaves his mouth, sounding like some primal snarl deep in his throat. 

“If I fuck you in the bathroom will you leave me alone and stay quiet?”

X is for X-ray (His cock) 

• A bit above average, so...6 inches and he's not circumcised and his balls are massive.

• He has a good girth as well. John's penis is quite proportionate!! 

• He has a bush because he very rarely shaves or cuts.

 

Uuuuuurgghhh, I want him and his cock so horrendously. 

Y is for Yearning (His sex drive, how much do they want you?) 

• He wants you whenever you're both most available, both physically and emotionally. 

• John most definitely has a high libido. Sex and you occupy his mind at the same time, everywhere.

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• John doesn't get excessively tired but he does feel it. 

• His after sex sleep depends on you. If you're sleepy, he'll settle and sleep, if you want to stay up, then he's good with that as well.

OTHER BEATLES ALPHABETS COMING SOON XOXO

PAUL

GEORGE

RINGO

[fortruechaos]

@yourflame said: There's a loud metallic creaking sound as the larger badnik freezes in place - illuminated in a cyan hue. Then, it tears in half, revealing a disheveled and steely-eyed white hedgehog behind it. He catches eyes with the ultimate lifeform and readies himself again, hands glowing with psychokinetic energy. " I really hope that's you Shadow. I'm getting sick of hitting your face all the time.. " ~ Silver!

Shadow's about to dislodge this thing in half with a Chaos Spear when Silver (who else can that cyan light belong to?) shows up and rips the thing in half himself. Shadow's first impression of the other hedgehog is: he looks exhausted. But who isn't? Shadow's only just come out of virtual reality a few days ago to find the world in absolute disarray--he knows he can't look any better--and if he does it's only thanks to his artificially advanced regeneration. It's unlikely though. They're all working around the clock.

"Silver...!" But before Shadow can express something almost like relief at seeing someone else he actually recognizes, the first real friend he's seen since escaping Infinite's crimson prison, another one of those huge badnik rears up to strike behind Silver--"On your six, I've got it."--and the Ultimate Lifeform snaps back into business mode, eyes narrowing as he warps over to ram that Chaos Spear into its chest, then picks the badnik up and throws it away so it can explode at a safe distance and also so the two of them can talk without being interrupted. Silver should be able to catch Shadow up to speed. Thank Gaia. Shadow's sick to death of not knowing what's going on.

"It's me," Shadow says, like he still has to confirm Silver's comment from before even though the Chaos Spear is obviously proof enough it was him and not a 'him' created by Infinite, turning fully to face the time traveler and offering a quick smirk before it disappeared off his face, confronted again with the reality of the situation. "Aren't you a bit late." A few weeks ago everything was totally fine. What even happened? Shadow's still got cubes swimming in his vision and that damn jackal's taunting laugh running through his ears. "Sonic's gone, supposedly." It's the first time he's said it out loud. This is the only phrase Shadow's been able to ground himself with since his return from the illusion. And it's a bitter truth that Shadow has heard--although admittedly it's one he's not so sure he believes in. But is obligated to believe in for now while there seems to be no other alternative.

"If you want to make things right for your future, shouldn't you have gone back a few more weeks? Before all this happened." Shadow obviously doesn't know the details of how time travel works, but he can't understand why Silver is here now instead of opting to show up before the world went to cube-enhanced-hell, his words devolving into a slightly aggressive set of snarls even though he isn't mad at Silver, just frustrated that he can feel so lost in the world--AGAIN.

[wheres-my-pencil]

(read more for a short pseudo-fic?? that i wrote kinda by accident?? it's kinda shit and doesn't have anything about stanley and it's mostly just describing a half baked idea but have it if you want. also this has definitely been done before but whatever)

au where the narrator, unbeknownst to stanley, finds out that he can be physically affectionate in a form that stanley can't see or feel.

after countless careful testing of stanley's reactions to confirm this, he starts to casually sort of. walk side by side to him and brush their hands together.

after a few hundred resets, he's at a point where he constantly holds hands (phases them through each other) with stanley as he yammers on as usual. sometimes he floats around him in circles and studies the folds in his clothes and the way stanley moves, still blabbering about, until, carefully, he leans reeeal close to stanley's face. he takes in every wrinkle and dimple, every reflection across his eyes, and watches the way his character model's hair sways a little as he walks, still pretending to have some sort of strong opinion about whatever he's talking about. once again, he starts to do this regularly.

when stanley happens to look at something that lines up their eyes to seem like eye contact, the narrator gets all freaked out and goes strangely quiet. he makes up some excuse (let's see here.. the next door is .. hmm .. .. (the first time it happened he actually did get them both lost)), and the next few times it happens, he starts rambling faster, trips over his words, and flusters himself in his own monologue.

after another few hundred resets he calms down and gets used to the fake-outs and gradually forgets it was ever even a worry.

during one reset in this peaceful phase, the narrator hugs him from behind, wraps his arms over his shoulders and around his chest, and sighs somewhat like a dog as he rests the underside of his chin on stanley's shoulder.

of course, sighs of yearning and disappointment sound similar enough that this one fit nicely for his current monologue. in fact, he starts getting so caught up with sarcastically praising stanley for staying in the employee lounge for more than two whole minutes, that as he leans into his face, yawning mid-sentence from the pseudo-warmth of stanley's neck and left cheek, he doesn't even notice that stanley has not only stayed in the same room, but hasn't moved an inch for the past five minutes.

worse yet, the narrator only finally realized when he happened to look up admiringly again, and nearly flew across the room at the sheer intensity of stanley's eyes staring dead into his own. he paused his berating. he didn't even have an excuse prepared, and he wouldn't need one, considering how stanley's first movement after the narrator's nearly endless stream of complaining was to turn to look at him where he hovered slightly above the floor, somewhat disheveled and panicked.

that's all i got for now fhdwds

[nevalizona]

A John and Connor fragment.

Slightly suggestive.

Please pardon any errors.

There are so many things you think about saying. You chew on your lip instead. You have to think so hard about what it is you want to say. He'll tear you apart the second he finds something weak to poke and prod at. A cigarette burned between your fingers. It was his, and now it's yours. Both of you are sweaty. The room is stuffy and humid. You put the cigarette out so you don't get burned twice.

You sit up now. You need to be heard.

“You can stay. You don't have to go.” You say this and regret it. Didn't think hard enough about what you wanted to say, and you wish you kept the cigarette lit.

“I don't have to do anything.” He's sharp. You didn’t want sharp. You curse at yourself and chew on your cheeks so hard you can taste blood.

“I know,’ your head is buzzing because you need him to not be upset with you. Is this desperation? It felt pathetic. ‘I'm just trying to tell you, you can stay. No need to rush.” You wish you could kick yourself. This desperate attempt at keeping him around because you don't want to be alone again is pitiful. It's just- he's the only man that will touch you. The only man that makes your heart race like this. He knows that he was the first man who ever touched you. The first man to lay his charm on you, so thick it was suffocating. He knows what he does to you. He enjoys it. Twisting your insides around, making you beg. For a split moment, you feel clarity. You think about his wife back at home. She’s felt this way before. Desperately trying to get him to stay. See her. Choose her over everything else that's going on with him.

Selfishly, this realization makes you warm. It makes your head spin. You're similar to her. Maybe not in the loving way. He doesn't love you, you know this. But you're fine being similar in the other way.

Another part of you is screaming at you that this is pathetic. This is pointless. Another man will look at you tenderly. Another man will want to touch your body, and his affection will not be conditional. Another man will see you as worthy. You won't be beneath him. He won't toy with you, knowing he can get away with it. You know this. You can feel it every time he jerks you around like the fool you are when he's present. You hate yourself when he leaves because you're a fucking idiot who just wants to be loved.

This clarity makes you see him in a different light. He's yanking his clothes back on. Rough. Always so damn rough. Everything about him is sharp. He doesn't have a delicate bone in his body. You want to hate him for manhandling you, even if it makes your head spin in the moment. You want to tell him you're worth more than he gives you credit for. This clarity happens on occasion. Your self-loathing dissipates, and you want to be the one to leave first. You want to grab your things and pull your clothes on like this was a waste of your time. You want to barely look at him as you tell him you'll see him later, leaving him there longing for more. You're tired of being played with like a fucking toy. You ball your hands into fists. You're telling yourself to stand up! Leave!

But then it happens, he shoots you a smile, and everything melts away at once. You melt into the cot, and you'd stay right here if you told you to. He runs his fingers through his hair to try to fix it a bit, so he doesn't look so disheveled.

“This was fun, Johnny.” His attitude from earlier slips away in a moment, and you wonder if it was even you that he was upset with earlier. Would it kill him to talk to you?

“It was.” You feel like you're walking through a minefield. One wrong thing, and he'll explode. His cheeky grin widens, and he walks over, grabbing his cigarettes from next to you, and pulls one out of the pack, tucking it between his lips. He's still sweating.

“Light?” He pats his pockets but can't find the lighter. You know where you keep one, but for some reason, you don't grab it. Maybe you don't want to be at his beck and call, for once. It's that little bit of clarity lingering.

“I was trying to find one earlier. That piece of junk is probably in a different pair of pants or something.” You're trying to be nonchalant, casual. This isn't important to you because it isn't important to him. You're still sweating, too.

“I think I have a spare somewhere. Take care of yourself tonight, Johnny. I'll see you tomorrow.” As he speaks, the cigarette tucked between his lips, bobs. You watch it like a fish waiting to be reeled in. You don’t want to ponder the implications so you don’t.

“Yeah, see you then.” You watch him as he slinks out of your tent. You lay back against your cot and wonder, for a split second, if this is what housewives feel like. You feel lonely and wish he's come back, but you know what today is and who it is that he'll be calling.

[jvstheworld]

My Ted Lasso Re-watch: S1E6 (part 1)

Two Aces

Someone give Ted a hug. He's all alone and sad. Sudeikis really sells the emotional moments in this show.

Manic, fast talking Ted, trying to not let on that anything is wrong. He isn't trying to be positive, he's just trying to deflect his own attention away from his thoughts and not give Nate and Beard an opportunity to ask him about things.

Ted looks good in red. Well, he looks good in anything, but red and blue especially. The bit with the jumper is cute. And his hair in that scene, I want to mess it up so bad. And the strand of hair that keeps on falling out of place, oh honey (I will never apologise for finding that man attractive, even for the smallest thing. A dishevelled Ted is a hot Ted).

Ted doesn't like the word bury and it's negative connotation, because of his dad.

You can not get anything past Beard, he knows all and sees all. Also he was there for Ted after Michelle and Henry left so he knew what was up already.

I love Trent Crimm - The Independent. Enough said.

'Not talk like that at work anymore' Why Ted, what kind of masterstroke did you think Rebecca was talking about?

Ted's reactions to stuff is gold. It's slightly over the top but not so it's unbelievable.

The semantic satiation bit with the word plan, Ted only says it 4 times before it loses meaning. And the way he says plan when mimicking Rebecca, how his voice just goes softer... Am I really gonna thirst for Ted during this episode? Probably.

Rebecca is a busy woman, yet she still indulges Ted in his ramblings.

Beard's 'oh boy' because he knows shit is about to go down. Ted is done with Jamie's bullshit.

It was in this moment that everyone knew Jamie fucked up. Even the guys around Jamie know to leave when Ted turns back to confront him. If Jamie wasn't so smug, Ted wouldn't have gone off on him like he did. Never piss off the nice person, what they say will hurt more than you think and you know you've gone too far.

Ted says practice 11 times during to speech to Jamie but the word still has meaning, compared to plan and aces where he says it a few times.

Jamie starts out smug, thinking that Ted is a pushover, nothing he says matters. And he's like that until Ted really starts shouting at him, when we get the Dutch Angle. We see the difference in both Ted and Jamie. Ted for the first time is genuinely angry, a side very few probably see, and Jamie has gone quiet because he's being reminded of when his dad shouts at him.

This is one of the few times I've seen a Dutch Angle used perfectly (here's looking at you Twilight. You're an example of how not to use it). A good example would be in the first Mission: Impossible film when Ethan sits down with Kitridge.

Ted's while speech is a reimagining of the Iverson speech. Sudeikis being a basketball fan would know of it and figured out a way to use it for his own intentions. Giving it a new meaning that's just as effective as when Iverson said it.

When done shouting Ted just walks away, giving Jamie no time to talk back or argue with him. Ted is in control over the situation, as opposed to the previous episode where Jamie was the one in control.

Everyone now respects Ted a bit more now. Probably and especially Roy.

Ted is still hot when he's angry. God damn it.

Beard is smiling in the office because he knows that Ted finally put Jamie in his place, something that needed to be be.

Schadenfreude - taking pleasure in another's pain. Nate enjoying what happened to Jamie is just an indication of later behaviours that will pop up.

[lixxen]

Eddie Brock/Venom Headcanons

Specifically for Male Readers <3

Venom 2: Let There Be Carnage spoilers

Eddie has met you once or twice before, but he just doesn't recognize you. You two have always gone to Mrs Chen's store and have passed each other quietly, barely taking notice of the other.

It is actually Venom who finds you.

While body hopping, Venom ends up taking you on as a temporary host.

To Venom's surprise, your body is a match just like Eddie.

Venom decides he likes you, as you only freak out for a minute and then just accepted your fate almost dramatically.

Venom explains what he is and why he is in this situation slowly. You offer him advice about his and Eddie's relationship that others hadn't given before.

Venom appreciates it.

Anne and Dan find you huddled outside of Mrs Chen's store, too afraid to go inside.

Venom respected the fact you didn't want to go inside and were scared, so he let you sit outside and just wait. He knew Eddie would come eventually.

Anne and Dan introduce themselves and bring you along to the police department, where Venom proceeds to break Eddie out of prison.

Venom automatically retreats into you once he sets down Eddie, which makes you stumble forward. Eddie catches you in his arms.

Eddie looks you over and starts to demand what had happened and if you are okay. You just look disheveled and out of it more than anything.

Anne explains that she and Dan had found you as Venom spoke to you inside of your head.

Venom didn't want to not go back to Eddie. He just wasn't ready to go back. You reassure him that he didn't have to just yet, but he would need to from the sound of it.

You had figured out how to respond to Venom within your head, which was something Eddie was never able to.

Eddie seemed to notice you staring off as Venom and you conversate, turning back to you and putting his hands on your shoulders.

He proceeds to apologize to both you and Venom. You didn't know why he was apologizing to you, but it felt nice.

In the end, Venom went back to Eddie.

You kind of missed the feeling of someone else inside of your head once Venom had left.

After the pair had managed to destroy Carnage and Cletus, the two found you again.

You didn't know how, but it happened.

You sat the two down and talked to them for hours about their issues.

They actually listened to you? For the most part?

It was kind of sweet watching them talk it out and come to a mutual middle ground.

You ended up explaining to Eddie how to communicated with Venom internally so he didn't look absolutely batshit crazy.

He still slightly struggles, but he can somewhat do it.

About a year later, the two asked you out.

You said yes.

[popoutsekai]

from anonymous : Can I get a sunny x reader where the reader likes to draw? Reader doesn't really share their drawings with the gang but one day sunny accidentally sees their sketchbook somehow and sees beautiful drawings of him made by y/n.

I hope you're having a wonderful day!🧸

ahh hello!! i hope you’re having a wonderful day too! sorry i messed up some formatting stuff and it ended up deleting your ask (oops?) i don’t know when you sent this so i’m banging it out as fast as i can + i’m new to tumblr bear with me pls </3 also i didnt know which sunny you wanted so i wrote for older sunny, if you want more younger sunny lmk pls !!

w/o further ado, welcome to artist!reader x sunny from both povs ^^

art cred !! + ct reading under cut, omori spoilers regarding the entire plot lmao sorry </3

reader perspective - second pov

did you mean to leave your sketchbook at sunny’s house, three years ago? most definitely not. why would you, [name], the organized artist of the 12 year olds, become so forgetful at a random moment in time? and now you were 15, 16 give or take.

you were the one who changed the least over those three long years; just a little more troubled, a little less organized. and you forgot about your sketchbook a while ago. you assumed you left it at the park, or something. but it wasn’t a big deal. the big deal was that you and kel got sunny out of the house!

it was actually mostly kel. that was the only person you talked to, basically. and you were busy the third day before sunny’s move. so, you joined him on the second day before.

“so, sunny, you okay and everything?” you slipped in when kel randomly flew away to get hero more random gifts at fix-it, of all places. “i heard you were moving away. are you excited?”

you heard a light “mhm” vocalize from his chest. you turned to him and smiled slightly.

“you’re lucky, you know. the world out there’s big. i hope you have a good time and stuff.”

“mhm.”

“just don’t forget about all of us!” you poked him with your shoulder lightly as to not push him over. he was glass, he was fragile, but he was as graceful as ever.

he nodded as kel yelled for you two to finally “move along! we’re going home- well, to my house!”

you were almost taking your first steps in kel’s direction, but sunny didn’t really move. noticing this, your body turned on its own to face him. “wanna take my hand?”

he blinked. yeah, sunny blinked.

“sure.”

it was quiet, but you could hear it loud and clear. his hand gripped onto yours as snug as could be.

well, maybe for him. he was gripping on for dear life on your part.

“YO! will you guys hurry? hero’s almost here…” kel’s whines echoed throughout the store, annoying the workers there.

you laughed a little, sunny’s hand still in yours. “hold on, kel! we’ll be right there!”

and with that, you felt as if sunny gained trust with you a little more.

sunny’s perspective - second pov

did you mean to find [name]’s sketchbook, from years and years ago, in your room as you and kel and hero and them were sleeping over in your house, in your room? most definitely not. in fact, you were just snooping around your living room before you heard their steps float in the house.

you flinched. they really haven’t changed throughout the years(?) you spent without them. they just looked different. a little more disheveled. but they still had that grace they held within them.

“hey, sunny? do you know where the bathroom is?” they yawned groggily, you figured you had to turn around to face them properly. “sorry, i just keep forgetting how your house wo- what is that?”

their eyes landed on the booklet that you had in your hands. the front cover had sketches of your little group. your little seven person group from long ago.

“hold on, i lost that a long time ago! well, we can kill some time here. do you wanna look through it together?”

you nodded, wanting to see more. what’s gone through their mind all this time? what happened throughout all those years?

but the first page you flipped to was near the middle of the sketchbook. it was a full body pose of…someone who looked so familiar. it felt as if it was captured from years ago, and placed onto the page. the boy felt happy, full of love and life. and you knew that wasn’t like how you were back then, not most of the time.

you turned to [name], staring at their gaping mouth and wide eyes. “oh my god, i forgot about that drawing.” they caressed the pages between their fingers and smiled. “this is the drawing that inspired me to draw more of…well, you. a little embarrassing, huh?”

you shook your head. it was more embarrassing for you, really.

“oh, phew, that’s a relief! well, that’s because…let me just show you.” they placed a hand inside their sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a small notebook around the same size you had in your hands. it fell onto the notebook you held with a plop. “you can look through it if you want.”

and so you did. the pages felt so good to flip through. it felt good to see some life within a notebook. the boy they drew had a simple anatomy, which they sketched perfectly. his hair was in place sometimes; others it wasn’t. his eyes had a sparkle in it sometimes; others he seemed gloomy. either way, the poses they drew felt so natural and light compared to the ones white space had to offer.

there were also sketches of their group. some in color, some not. he saw pictures of mari and hero holding hands and dancing. aubrey and kel and basil and sunny, all running around happily. was this another reality they tuned themself into?

“um, sunny? do you like them?” that’s what caught you off guard. “i mean, the drawings.”

you knew [name] never bragged about their drawing skills. back then, they only sketched with the intent of keeping it to themself only. and they got super flustered when people asked if they could show them their drawings. especially sunny.

“yeah.”

this meant a lot to [name]. sunny knew this much. their eyes grew wide like how they first laid eyes on their own sketchbook. “hehe, thanks.”

“mhm.”

“so, should we go back upstairs? i remembered where the bathroom is now! it’s up the stairs and in the middle, right?” they smiled wide again, helping you stack your notebooks up into a little pile and placing it on your hands.

you nodded, as always.

“let’s go then!” you two walked side by side, up the stairs one step at a time. the silence felt super comforting and natural, going up like you two were going to conquer the world.

well, faraway town was a start at least.

as you two reached the top, they looked you in the eye. their gaze was a little scary, but it wasn’t unusual for [name] to do stuff like this.

“hey sunny? i just wanted to let you know i love you.”

blink.

“i always have had just a little thing for you, and now that you’re moving, i just wanted you to have this.” they held out a drawing of you two together, sitting on a bench and holding hands. it depicted you and them from years ago together.

another blink.

“thanks for being a great friend, sunny! hah, i’ll always keep a little space in my notebooks for you.”

reader perspective - second pov

what you didn’t expect for sunny to do was lean his forehead on yours. but it felt so natural, so you two just stood there for a good amount of time. it felt right to be here, to stand here, to hold these notebooks and to hold these memories that were supposed to be made.

maybe someday you’ll make them.

but it starts with sunny overcoming his fears and faults. and you were willing to wait until the end of time.

and somewhere in his shrouded heart, he would wait for you too.

maybe soon enough, your happy endings will end up crossing together in the shape of love.

[beej-hunnicutt]

Found my first Kik writing!!! Where I was trying to explore what I wanted to do with him!! It's fun seeing!! A small thing of him and Donovan meeting!! It's kinda long so put it under a read more. I still like it. I enjoy how up and lively Donovan is. I feel usually he's a bit moodier in my works, you're more in his head. So that was fun! Teehee

At least there was a breeze in the night, making the heat left over from the day slightly more bearable. Kik took a long drag of his cigarette and tapped away some ash. He looked down at a small pill bug moving around in the dirt. He was careful not to crush it with his combat boot, but he would block a little space, have it try to move around him. He watched it quietly and finally let it on its way. He was out a little ways from the thrown up medical tent, taking a break before starting up his night shift.

"So doctors really do smoke?" A voice behind him asked. There was snark when the man spoke.

Kik looked over his shoulder at a man with his arm wrapped up, but in his fatigues.The sleeve with the injury was rolled up passed it. He stood up, putting his cigarette between his lips, instantly walking over, checking on the doctor's work.

"What are you doing out of bed? Who let you leave?" Kik sighed.

"Relax, I'm set to leave in a few hours. Thought I would get some fresh air. My vitals are fine. Don't look so scared!" The soldier took a seat where Kik was at previously, patting the rock to get Kik to return.

Kik walked over, a touch hesitant, but took a seat. The soldier's hair was slicked back unlike when he was brought in, hair disheveled, arm bleeding even after the attempt to close it off. From one of his pockets, the other man slipped out his own pack of cigarettes and a zippo to light it. He took a long drag of his and a few shorter ones. Kik wanted to tell the blond solider to slowdown, the cigarette isn't going to run off, but he decided to just look at the sky. At least you could see the stars.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked.

"I feel fine, really. I just need to get back to my men. This was a bullshit injury, I think it could have been dealt with it at the action."

"Well thank you Doctor," Kik gently picked up the other man's dog tags, finding the name. "Donovan. We'll be sure to check in with you first."

Donovan looked back at him for a few moments and scoffed, a large smirk on his face. He took another drag before talking. "Fair point. But I really do hate being away from them, I'd feel like shit if something happened while I was gone."

Kik nodded along, never knowing what to say to soldiers. He never fought, and he was very happy to say that. He refuses to even hold a gun, he's suppose to be healing people, not causing the pain. He has been around the action, before being transferred to a MUST unit.

He hated the war, he didn't want to be in it. He knew that didn't make him special, most didn't want to be here. There was a handful of things that could have, or should have gotten him exempt from going but none of those things seems to really matter as they're checking you. If you're in shape, that seems to do it. It doesn't matter if you're, dumb, homosexual, even seeming to have sympathy towards the communists. Especially not when you're a doctor. They desperately needed doctors. You got the brains, you're in shape, you have the skills, they really can look over the other things. Especially when they can tell you're true and strong about your practice. You'll help whoever needs it. Then, they really pretend they have never heard the bad things.

Kik kept thinking about Donovan's tags, an 'O'. He was an officer, and the three followed after. He's from the same coast as Kik.

"You're an officer, what are you a major? I don't see your oak."

"Doesn't matter, my name works just fine when trying to get my attention. But, now I get to know something." He put his cigarette in his mouth and reached over, grabbing Kik's own set of tags.

"Keith...José..." He muttered, but a smile crept on his face as he kept reading. "Kennedy. Nice last name to have right now."

This got a chuckle out of Kik and he shook his head. "Depends on who sees it."

"Yeah I would imagine. Let's see...Drafted and ah!" He pulled away, and raised a brow. "Where from?"

"Seattle Washington, you?"

"California." He moved the cigarette from his mouth after taking a puff. Kik noted he made sure to leave out the city he's from. Donovan flicked away some ash. "I could never live somewhere that rainy, the rain here is god damn awful."

"It's not the best, but it's what I'm use to."

Donovan nodded along. "It's humid there, right?"

Kik had a warm smile on his face, talking about home here either made that entire day or made it one of the worst. But this was nice. "Yeah, Spring time sucks, you have the overcast keeping in the heat, the humidity because it rained last night and might start up again all while being mid seventies."

"Sounds like torture, been there only once. It was summer so the temperature wasn't too bad. Do you guys have any place where the ocean actually is somewhat decent?"

"No, but we have some nice lakes."

"I'll have to take your word for that one." Donovan tossed the bud of his cigarette to the ground. He really smoked as much as he possibly could before tossing it. Kik looked down at his own, he hasn't tapped away the ash in awhile, and it burned through a lot of it. It wasn't much to save, so he let his own drop to the ground.

"Oh, your beginning question about cigarettes. I shouldn't smoke them, I don't think you should either. I only when I'm stressed out."

"So you've been chainsmoking lately?" Donovan grinned, reaching into his own pocket to light another.

"I try to save it for when I really need it."

"So why today? Long shift?"

"Bad surgery."

Donovan sucked his teeth and gave him firm slap on the back of understanding or comfort. "That's rough, not enough credit goes to you guys, the shit you're able to do?" He whistled, "It's amazing. I know this isn't enough but." Donovan began to trail off.

Kik stood up, tugging his tags into between his undershirt and his fatigue. "Are you gonna let me walk you back to your bed, Donovan?"

"Only if you'll read me a bedtime story when you're not busy." Donovan teased, standing up with Kik. He began following the doctor back to the main recovery room.