#I Want Him
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carmenschemtrails · 21 hours ago
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i will forever love dorky, awkward sarcastic men
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I like my men smart
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joongdunking · 1 day ago
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Joong is so aware of Dunk!!
In this 6 seconds clip, we see so many expressions from Joong..
He was reciting his lines with his eyes closed, but the moment he felt Dunk shifted his weight, he got worried and reached out to help instantly!
He broke into a smile immediately once he knew Dunk was fine 🥹💛
And got back into character the next second.!
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yapihapi · 15 hours ago
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You’ve been the perfect student ever since kindergarten. The school has been blessed to have you—student leader, consistent top achiever, and the school’s pride in academic competitions. Medals, awards—you’ve brought home so many. You’ve always been outstanding.
But then Nagi transferred to your school. Suddenly, everything changed.
It felt like you were perpetually in second place, and no matter what you achieved, there was always this gnawing feeling of inadequacy.
Even when the list came out, showing that you scored higher than him, it didn’t feel like a win. He always did it so effortlessly.
You sat in the front row, dedicated, writing notes and reviewing endlessly. But when you glanced at Nagi in the back, you’d always catch him sleeping at his desk, oblivious to the world. It frustrated you to no end.
During quizzes and exams, he’d still get high marks, but his carefree attitude made it seem unfair. While you sacrificed sleep and poured every ounce of energy into studying, he simply coasted. Yet he remained unbothered, like he wasn’t trying at all.
You were jealous.
Nagi noticed your furrowed brows whenever your eyes met, but he didn’t understand why. You’d never even spoken to each other. To him, you were the model student—perfect, composed, and untouchable. But he was just that guy in the back of the class, minding his own business.
When midterms came, the pressure was unbearable. You spent endless hours reviewing and juggling your responsibilities. The weight of expectations, the relentless need to prove yourself—it consumed you.
Then came the exam day. You answered the test quickly, confident in your preparation. But as you handed in your paper, you noticed Nagi did the same, just minutes after you. You glanced at him in disbelief. Was he really that gifted, or was it luck?
As the class emptied, you stayed behind to pack your things. Nagi lingered too, his feet propped up on a chair, phone in hand, looking as relaxed as ever.
Then it happened—a sudden, warm sensation in your nose.
“Huh?” you muttered as you touched your upper lip. Blood.
Nagi furrowed his brows when he glanced at you. He put down his phone, grabbed tissues from his bag, and rushed to your side.
“Here,” he said softly, handing you the tissues.
You stared at him, startled by his uncharacteristic concern. He didn’t stop there. Gently, he guided you to the clinic, one hand lightly supporting your arm.
At the clinic, the nurse tended to you, cleaning you up and ensuring you were fine. Once everything was settled, you stepped out, adjusting your bag and ready to head home.
You stopped in your tracks when you saw him. Nagi was leaning against the wall just outside the clinic, a lollipop in his mouth. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze lost somewhere on the ceiling, deep in thought.
You tried to walk past him, hoping to avoid an awkward interaction, but after a few steps, he spoke.
“Why do you despise me so much?”
You froze, his question hanging in the air. Slowly, you turned around, meeting his confused gaze.
“I don’t hate you,” you said coldly, though your voice wavered. “I’m… jealous of you.”
His confusion deepened. “Jealous?”
You sighed, the weight of your feelings spilling out. “You’re so good at academics, but you barely try. I work myself to exhaustion, and I still feel like it’s not enough. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat—I have to push myself because of the standards I’ve set. Then you come along, doing the bare minimum, and it makes me feel… small. Like I’m stupid.”
He blinked, stunned into silence.
“I just wanted to feel like I was enough,” you continued, voice trembling. “But when you showed up, it felt like I had to work even harder just to keep up. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Nagi scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “I… I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” you replied quickly. “This is childish. I shouldn’t even feel this way.”
You turned to leave, but his hand caught your wrist.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Honestly, I kind of disliked you too at first. I thought you were just a spoiled rich girl who had everything handed to her. But I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply. “You really do deserve the top spot. I don’t even care about ranks—” He paused, muttering to himself. “Why am I even explaining this?”
You gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze. “I see,” you said quietly, the bitterness still lingering in your voice as you turned away.
The rest of the school year didn’t go as you expected. Somehow, you and Nagi became close. He wasn’t as infuriating as you’d thought—laid-back, yes, but also oddly insightful in his own way. The tension between you hadn’t completely disappeared, but it had softened into something more tolerable, almost unspoken.
One afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside him on a bridge, both of your feet dangling over the edge.
“Do you always come here?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” you replied, staring at the horizon. “It helps me clear my mind.”
The golden sunlight bathed your face, softening your usually sharp features. For the first time, Nagi saw you relaxed—genuinely at peace.
He watched you, noticing details he’d overlooked before. The way your hair caught the sunlight, the faint curve of your lips when you smiled. It struck him.
“You know,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, “I think you’re amazing. Not because of your grades or your accomplishments. Just… you.” He hesitated, his gaze softening. “But you should take care of yourself more. You push yourself so hard, and you don’t deserve to burn out trying to meet everyone else’s expectations.”
You turned to him, startled by his sincerity. His words lingered in the air, disarming you. For once, the competition didn’t matter. Sitting there with him, bathed in the warmth of the setting sun, you felt a sense of calm settle over you—a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was strange, but for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to prove anything.
And maybe, just maybe, the one-sided rivalry had finally come to an end. It wasn’t about winning or losing anymore, but about understanding. You realized that chasing perfection wasn’t the only way to prove your worth, and perhaps Nagi wasn’t the antagonist you made him out to be. Instead, he was someone who challenged the way you saw yourself—someone who, without meaning to, helped you see things differently.
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olivehoover135 · 3 days ago
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Just a lil drawing of Leon 🥰
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groovykermit15 · 19 hours ago
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WHY IS MIKE SO GORGEOUS PLEASE PUT THIS IN A MUSEUM BECAUSE 🤯 🩷🙏
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The fact that only 4 photos of this Mike Look™ exist…devastating
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ourseasone · 2 days ago
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elbimboo · 2 days ago
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bajablastlover1 · 3 days ago
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god jensen ackles is so beautiful
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ozzyoftheangels · 1 day ago
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DROOLING AND LICKING MY SCREEN M’LORD YOU ABSOLUTELY COOKED
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Won’t you please come back to me?
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therockstarsmuse · 1 day ago
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Izzy performing at the troubadour in west hollywood, 28th february 1986
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supernaturaldoll · 16 hours ago
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pov:your camera roll if you were hunting with the winchesters!! :>
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onlymingyus · 1 day ago
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no I'm not OK
thanks for asking
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acoazlove · 2 days ago
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WING FIC WING FIC!!! AHHHHH!!! I LOVE when people write wing play!!! needy az will always be one of my fav versions of him. i NEED him!!! THIS IS SOOOO GOOD!!!
featherlight touch
a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic
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Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.
Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.
You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.
But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.
Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.
“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.
His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.
“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”
At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.
Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.
But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.
Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.
“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.
“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.
You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”
Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.
Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.
“Is that so?”
Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.
“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.
Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.
“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.
Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.
“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”
Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.
If what Feyre said is true...
Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.
Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.
Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.
Grinning, you take your cue.
Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.
Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.
The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.
“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.
"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."
This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.
Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.
Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.
"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.
Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a whimper.
"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.
"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"
You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.
"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.
Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.
"What do you think?"
You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.
You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.
"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.
"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"
"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.
Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."
His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.
"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.
His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.
"Have your way with me."
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zukobeloved · 1 day ago
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im so in love with him
Hes so hot I want Gojo
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proud gojo fangirl 😍
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olivehoover135 · 2 days ago
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Oh god… he can literally take my soul (I want him to)
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