#and i desperately need him to have his own show

[gossamyrrh]

okay…… can we please talk about alien boyfriend!choso and intimacy….

he doesn’t quite understand the way humans interact—finds it a bit peculiar, to be specific—since on his planet all communication, whether physical or verbal, is through frequencies.

hence, why the first time you hug him he’s…appalled. lets out a shocked “hmm?” as you wrap your arms around him, his own stiff at his sides as you meet him chest to chest.

you have to explain to him that humans do this to show fondness. affection. he, of course, lets out a confused trill.

“it means i love you, choso.”

that, he understands, and it makes him hum softly. something like a purr, as he wraps you in his arms and mirrors your previous action (albeit with much more force than necessary. but he’s learning.)

and he grows from there.

from then on out, alien boyfriend!choso begins to experiment with intimacy and touch. sometimes, he’ll run his fingers down the slope of your neck and shoulders, along the curve of your cheek, before he hesitantly follows it with a trail of kisses. some quick, others long and wet—with teeth.

he spends most his time touching you. gaining the courage and deftness to venture the rest of your body (the soft swell of your breasts, the planes of your stomach), which he quickly learns are far more sensitive than he would’ve thought. pulls little gasps from the depth of you.

so, imagine his surprise when he slips a little further.

he’s grazing along your skin per usual—the soft flesh of your inner thigh—but this time his fingers venture a little too far. the intention wasn’t sexual, you know. he’s just curious! but your body writhes all the same, legs clamping shut around his hand, hips lifting into his touch, cunt throbbing.

and he lets out a little warble. head tilting as he does it again, watches as your breath hitches and you let out a strangled moan.

“cho—”

he chitters, and you know he’s curious as to what’s wrong. “d-don’t do that. it—”

but you cut off when he does it again, just to test.

and oh.

his eyes widen, fascinated, and he stills for half a second, absorbing the way your thighs jerk—the way your chest rises and falls so quickly. his ears twitch, registering the shift in your breathing—the frequency of it. the way your heartbeat pounds against your ribs.

you’re warm, he notices. warmer than before.

choso lets out another soft chitter, tilting his head as his fingers move again—this time with purpose.

it’s still careful—experimental—tracing slow, aimless patterns across your folds, dragging through the slickness that he doesn’t quite understand but is so intrigued by. his brows furrow as he spreads you apart with just the lightest press of his fingers, feeling the soft give of you, the heat, the way your body reacts before you can even stop it.

your hips twitch up, seeking.

and that makes something in his chest rumble.

��hrrrggmmm.”

with narrow eyes, his other hand finds your hip and presses down, pinning you in place as he continues. you make a strangled noise this time, something between a gasp and a whimper, and that—

that makes him shudder.

a low, rattling sound vibrates from deep in his chest, and his shoulders tremble—arms lock. his fingers work faster now, sliding through your slick with more confidence, curiosity morphing into something more intentional. primal.

“cho’!”

you claw at his forearm, nails digging in, your lips parting in something breathless, something desperate. but he doesn’t stop. doesn’t even hesitate.

because he wants to understand.

he needs to.

his fingers slip lower, and when they find your entrance—when they push just the slightest bit inside—your back arches.

a sharp inhale. a high, keening sound that makes his eyes darken.

his ears twitch at the shift in your voice, pleasure laced into every breath. and he thinks—he knows—he’s doing something right.

choso chitters again, pleased, head tilting as he slowly sinks his fingers in. your walls flutter around him, your thighs threatening to snap shut, but he doesn’t let you. his grip is firm, controlling, holding you open so he can keep watching—keep feeling.

because this is new.

this is good.

he moves his finger in and out, and the sounds you make are sharper now, gasping moans that make a familiar heat in his belly coil tighter. his fingers move instinctively, mimicking the rhythm of your hips, learning the way you react—what makes you squirm, tremble, break.

and then he finds it.

that one spot inside you that makes your entire body tremble.

he freezes, stunned, absorbing the way your breath shatters, the way your nails dig into his skin so desperately.

then, slowly, deliberately—he presses there again.

and you cry out.

and his grip tightens.

his fingers curl just right, his pace steady but firm, pressing, circling, exploring. he chitters low in his throat, fascinated by the way your legs shake, your breath hiccupping into something uneven, something wild.

you’re close—he doesn’t know what that means, not in words, but he feels it.

feels the way your body tightens, the way your slick coats his fingers, the way your heartbeat pounds against his palm when he presses against your stomach to hold you down.

you writhe. you beg—though he doesn’t understand the words, only the need in them.

and then, suddenly—

it happens.

your body locks up. a strangled moan rips from your throat, your thighs clamping around his hand as the heat inside you shatters. he feels you pulse around his fingers, slick gushing as your body trembles violently beneath him.

choso freezes.

eyes wide. breath heavy. completely stunned.

for the first time since he started, he hesitates.

because what—what was that?

you’re panting, wrecked, head lolling to the side as aftershocks pulse through you. he feels it. feels the way your body twitches, the way you sigh, the way your entire frequency shifts into something slow, sated.

and then he realizes.

…he did this.

a slow, deep hum rolls from his chest. his fingers slide from you, slick coating them, still warm. he studies them, the way they shine, how they tremble just slightly from what he’s done to you.

then, experimentally, he brings them to his lips.

his tongue flicks out, curious.

and the sound he makes when he tastes you is deep. dark. possessive.

because now—now—he understands.

and he wants more.

[istvanthot]

I am playing through kcd1 for the first time after finishing kcd2, and it is shocking to realize just how lonely hans is before meeting henry. his life isn’t empty, per se—he goes to the tavern, shoots, and enjoys all the services the baths have to offer. but he is always by himself. and then henry shows up, holds his own against hans in combat, and stands up to him at the tavern. hans takes to him like a duck to water, almost as if he were desperate for someone to show up and treat him like a person.

when hans has just healed from his wounds after being captured by the cumans, henry comes by, and hans complains that he’s seen no one but the priest; no one else comes to visit him. he then jumps at the chance to invite henry to the baths with him, to FINALLY share a part of his life with someone.

I love the romance between them dearly, but I think there’s something particularly special about those first days when they were “just” friends. henry had just lost everything, and hans was stuck in an endless solitary loop of waiting to come of age. they both needed a friend so very badly when they met.

[berfgrimm]

745: caught | choi seunghyun

pairing: choi seunghyun x f!reader warnings: smut, masturbation, oral, fingering, dirty talk note: good day and welcome to the third part of 745. i hope you all enjoy. see below for the previous parts. 745 | dinner

You had always promised Seunghyun that you wouldn’t touch yourself without his permission. If you said that out loud to anyone, it could paint an unusual picture of your relationship, but truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You preferred Seunghyun’s hands over your own, with their innate ability to touch you exactly how you need. But tonight, you accidentally got a little carried away.

You’re meant to be waiting for your boyfriend to meet you in his hotel room after he finishes dance rehearsal. It has been a few weeks since you’ve been together in-person, and you’re overcome with excitement to be able to see him. After a long flight, you decide that the best option is to get some rest before Seunghyun shows up. That’s exactly how you started: laying on the bed, listening to music to help you relax into a peaceful slumber. But a live version of one of your boyfriend’s songs begins to flow through your earbuds, and you find yourself a little too focused on the way his voice sounds.

Sometimes, when Seunghyun is on stage and he’s exhausted from the show, his voice begins to have a distinct rasp to it, bordering closely on a growl. You’d noticed it before when watching him perform but hearing it as you lounge on his hotel bed, only dressed in a t-shirt and panties, you find some flutters in your stomach.

You feel as though he’s in the room with you, rasping in your ear. The feeling spreads down your neck into your shoulders, a chill that creeps over your skin, imagining his fingers tracing over your skin. You wonder how he would touch you if he was with you right now; would he be soft, trailing small kisses in the wake of his gentle touch or would his fingers feel heavier, squeezing and pulling, while he left bites everywhere he could? The thought drives you crazy, not sure which you’d prefer.

You surprise yourself when you start to drag your hands over your breasts and stomach, trying to find the kind of touch you want from Seunghyun. When your fingers reach the waistband of your panties, you pause – you shouldn’t touch yourself, but your body feels so hot that you’re cold. Maybe a little touch wouldn’t hurt, just enough to ease the ache you’re beginning to feel.

When your fingers reach your clit, you pull in a sharp breath, spreading your thighs to get comfortable. You listen to the song, feeling the rumble of Seugnhyun’s voice at the base of your skull, goosebumps still present on your skin. Your fingers gently ghost over your clit, teasing to see if it can help alleviate the tension.

You picture the way Seunghyun’s mouth feels when he kisses your neck: hot and urgent, like he needs you so he can breathe. When he does breathe against your skin, you swear you’ve heard him shudder before, his touch getting more desperate like couldn’t control himself.

You hadn’t realized that you were touching yourself even more, your fingers now rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips edge closer to your hand in a way that makes you feel not in control of your own body. Thinking of Seunghyun’s voice in your ear doesn’t make it any easier, not with the thought of him whispering in that husky tone that he loves to tease you with. You need something else.

Quickly, before you begin to overthink, you slip out of your panties, throwing them to the side so you can have better access to yourself. Dragging your fingers over your slit to dampen them, you think of when Seunghyun eats you out. He always keeps you guessing at how he’s going to treat you: slow and sensual or hurried and ravenous. Either way, you knew he’d take care of you, which makes you feel more guilty as you sink two of your fingers inside of yourself.

You picture the way Seunghyun pins your hips against the mattress with his forearm when he eats you out, keeping you from squirming too much so he can focus his attention where you need it the most. It’s hard to keep your hips still thinking of it now, loving the little bit of pressure he applied or the way he slaps your thigh as a warning when you’re moving too much. You try to pump your fingers deeper inside of you but your fingers aren’t like Seunghyun’s. Yours aren’t long and slender, not skilled like his are. Still, you try, your other hand still rubbing slow circles on your clit, hoping that you’ll be able to crack the code of how Seunghyun knows exactly what to do to your body to have you see stars.

The song comes to an end, so you quickly change up your game plan. You feel blindly for your phone at your side, starting the song over and turning up the volume. Settling back into the sheets, you close your eyes and focus on your clit instead of discouraging yourself by not being able to finger yourself like Seunghyun can.

As your fingers circle your clit, you picture the way his breath feels on your skin as he teases you with his tongue. You think of the way you can feel his voice vibrating through your body when he pulls back to let his fingers take over so he can tell you how good you are or how slutty you are. The sound of his voice – fuck, even through the song, it’s like you can feel his voice, buzzing through your skin.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the sound of his voice, and you nearly tumble to the floor, but you find Seunghyun sitting in the armchair near the foot of the bed. His legs are crossed, an amused expression clear in his eyes as focuses on your face, waiting for you to respond. Unfortunately, being caught has you frozen in place, unsure of what to say to him.

“I know better than anyone that you’re good with your mouth,” Seunghyun begins. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, grabbing for a pillow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Turn towards me so I can see what you’re doing to yourself.”

You maneuver around so that you’re on display for him, the excitement radiating through to your bones. Seunghyun’s eyes lock between your thighs, tilting his head to the side to watch you.

“Does it feel as good as when I do it?”

“No, you’re the only one who knows how to take care of me,” you respond, letting out a sigh and spreading your legs wider.

“I always take care of my good girl, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you still couldn’t wait for me to get here before you had to touch yourself,” Seunghyun says, his voice deep and intense.

“I was thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

“Your voice.”

Seunghyun lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes narrowing as he thinks about what you said. He uncrosses his legs, scooting forward on the seat to lean closer. Even with a few feet of distance from the bed to the chair, he feels like he’s directly between your thighs, his gaze burning into your skin.

“My voice turns you on?” Seunghyun’s tone is steady, not showing any sign of his emotions, but his eyes are still on your hand between your thighs. You can only nod in response, and his gaze cuts to your face briefly, still expressionless. “Do you know what turns me on?” he asks, looking back between your legs. “Hearing you moan my name. Be the good girl I know you can be and let me hear how pretty you can sound. Maybe I’ll help you if you can convince me enough.”

You do enjoy a good challenge. With your eyes on him, you resume the pace you had set before he interrupted, touching your clit as he would. The way he studies you feels scientific at first, until you let out your first whimper, which causes a noticeable tension in his shoulders, his posture straightening again. He meets your gaze, studying the way your lips are parted to let out soft pants, and the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment before opening again so you can see him. You let out another whine, this one a little louder, longer.

“You’re so sexy right now,” Seunghyun says, making sure his voice is loud enough for you to really hear it, but low enough to maintain the sultry tone that he knows you enjoy. “Do you think you’re going to make yourself come like this?”

“No,” you breathe. “Not without you. I fucking need you.”

“You need me, hm? You need me, my good girl?”

You moan this time, the way his voice sounds jolting straight through your body to your core. You can’t fight your instincts, and your eyes slip closed again, reveling in the sensation his voice brings to your body. Your fingers move faster now and you once again slip two of your fingers in, pumping them slowly before setting a steady pace to match your other hand. 

“Can’t get them as deep, can you?” Seunghyun asks, now sitting back in his chair again, legs crossed, watching you patiently. “Why did you think you’d be able to get off without me? Tell me who’s the only one that can make you come.”

“You.”

A smirk cracks through his stoic expression, and he blinks slowly, setting his gaze between your thighs again. You try to quicken your pace, but you find your hands growing tired – it’s almost embarrassing, but since you always have your needs met by Seunghyun, you haven’t had to do this in a long time. You’re no longer accustomed to the way your body needs to be treated by your own hands.

“You’re slowing down,” Seunghyun says, a playful lilt in his voice. “You’re tired already?”

“I can’t do it like you can.”

“That’s why you aren’t allowed to do this, baby,” he tells you, his voice more husky. “If you need me, you can tell me how, and I’m all yours.” It’s softer than you expect, yet you still whimper in response – a sound that makes Seunghyun maneuver his armchair closer to the bed, so his knees are pressed to the mattress, and his hands rest on your shins. “Tell me what it is that you need,” he commands.

“Your fingers,” you breathe, moving your hands away from your body altogether, resting them on the mattress at your sides. “Your mouth. Anything. I just need you.”

Seunghyun smiles, the type of devious smile he makes when he knows what he’s going to do to you will leave you feeling things you never thought possible. His arms hook under your legs to grasp your thighs, using a surprising amount of strength to yank your body closer to him. One hand presses to your hip to keep you pinned to the mattress, while he uses his other hand to stroke softly through your dampness.

“I think tonight I want to watch you,” Seunghyun says. “Maybe your punishment can be that you don’t get to feel my tongue on you. But that means that I can talk to you as much as you need me to…so I guess it isn’t much of a punishment after all, is it, baby?”

“You can do whatever you want,” you say, breathless as he begins to tease your clit.

Seunghyun doesn’t bother to look between your thighs as he slips two digits inside of you, both of his hands now slowly beginning to set a pace to work you. The only response you’re capable of is a soft moan of his name while your hands fist the sheets beneath you. Another pleased smirk spreads across his lips, his eyelids heavy as he continues to stare only into your eyes. If it was anyone else, you’d feel uncomfortable with the amount of eye contact he’s giving, but it makes the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Fuck, Seunghyun,” you whine when he begins to turn his wrist just enough to twist his fingers each time he thrusts them inside of you. His thumb teases over your clit with each thrust, having your hips struggling to get more friction.

When his hand moves from your hip, you break eye contact with him to watch the path his hand takes. At first, he bunches your shirt to your ribs, and you take the hint, removing it altogether. From his position in the chair, back straight and knees trapped against the foot of the bed, he struggles to comfortably lean closer, so you follow his train of thought, your hands cupping your breasts.

“You need to be touched everywhere, don’t you?” he asks with a small, amused grin on his lips. His eyes now take in your whole body, from the way you’re teasing your nipples to his own hand that now joins the first between your thighs.When his fingers finally touch your clit, you release a moan that shifts into a desperate whimper, your hips, now free from his hold, rolling to meet his touch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, licking your lips and spreading your legs wider.

“I thought about you during rehearsal,” Seunghyun says, tilting his head to the side to get a better view of the way you’re taking his fingers. “The whole time, I couldn’t wait to come back here to you; my good girl who has been waiting so patiently for me. So I can give you what you’ve been asking for…begging for…every night since I’ve been away.” He pumps his fingers faster, deeper, still rubbing your clit in time to watch the small involuntary twitches of your body when he touches you in exactly the right way.

After being without Seunghyun for weeks, unable to feel his touch, only getting by on the sound of his voice and promises of all the nasty things he wanted to do, you feel your climax approaching quickly. You want to make it up to Seunghyun for touching yourself without his permission, so you give him what he loves: your moans. You run your hands over your body, and up your neck, your fingers softly teasing your skin in the way you know he loves to do himself. You exaggerate your moans a little, not caring about who can hear you through the walls of the hotel room – Seunghyun fingers you faster, as if to reward you for what you’re doing. When your fingers trace over your jaw, barely skimming over your lips, your mouth reacts on instinct, parting so you can touch your fingertips to your tongue.

“Mmm, you love having something in your mouth, don’t you, baby?” Seunghyun teases. “You're such a good girl for me, maybe I’ll give you something special.”

You don’t have a moment to speak, even if you did, you likely wouldn’t have words. Seunghyun presses his hands to your inner thighs, standing from the armchair and using the heel of his foot to kick it backward, sending it tumbling to the floor. With the new space, Seunghyun kneels down at the foot of the bed, his eyes locked with yours as he moves. He gives a pleased smirk at what you can only assume is the wide-eyed, shocked expression you give him.

Seunghyun slides his index and middle fingers of his opposite hand into you, earning another whimper from you as he gently scissors them to get all the way inside of you. He peers up at you, reaching his other hand, fingers slick with you, towards you – you feel ravenous as you take his wrist and guide his fingers into your mouth.

While you’re distracted with sucking his digits clean, Seunghyun’s mouth claims your clit, causing you to moan around his fingers, hips bucking against his face. He chuckles against you as he begins to tease you with his tongue, his fingers resuming the pace he had previously set. All you can do is keep sucking on his fingers, moaning like you’ve never felt pleasure in your life before him. Seunghyun suddenly closing his mouth around your clit, sucking hard, has you pulling his hand from your mouth so you can moan more freely.

“Oh, god,” you whine. “Please, baby. Please.”

Seunghyun hums against you, adding a small nod of his head, before his fingers pump faster. You press his hand to your breast, urging him to touch you, and he’s more than happy to abide, cupping your breast to drag his thumb over your nipple. When he pinches your nipple in time with some particularly harsh suction on your clit, you buck against his face again, your back arching up from the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, struggling not to clench your thighs around his head. “I’m–”

“Mmm,” Seunghyun hum, breathing hard against you. His hand moves from your breast to your jaw, tilting your head so you look at him and using his thumb to part your lips. The pad of his thumb drags over your teeth and touches your tongue, as though he needs to feel your mouth in any way he can.

When Seunghyun curls his fingers inside of you, giving quick thrusts at exactly the right spot while he sucks on your clit, the tension snaps inside of you. With a loud moan of his name, needy and whiny enough to make your voice feel like it could go hoarse, your hands grab for him, lacing your fingers together with one hand while your other hand fists his hair to keep him in place. You grind yourself against his face, riding out the waves of another body quaking orgasm that is a regular occurance with Seunghyun. Your legs begin to twist inward, thighs tightening around his head, the overstimulation making your eyes water,

“Please, Seunghyun,” you beg.

Gently slowing to a stop, Seunghyun retracts his fingers and slides them into his mouth to clean them quickly. His eyes, darkened with desire, flick up briefly to meet yours, as he leans back enough to press a soft kiss to your clit. You whimper a small quick sound, reaching for his other hand so you can pull him towards you. You catch him grinning, completely pleased with himself as he licks the taste of you from his lips.

“I missed hearing you moan like that,” Seunghyun says, kissing up your body, using your grip on his hands to support his weight. “I love you, my good girl.”

“I love you, too.”

“You’re so sexy,” he whispers, kissing you softly on the lips. It only takes a moment before you deepen the kiss, loving the feeling of his tongue no matter where it is. He shifts his weight so his hips are pressed against you, the feeling of his erection obvious against your still aching core.

“Baby,” you whisper, hooking your legs around him so you can keep him close, Seunghyun opting to kiss your neck. “Do you know what’s sexy? The way you always get hard when you eat my pussy.” Seunghyun chuckles against your neck, leaving a small bite before he tips his head back to look into your eyes.

“What can I say? I love how good you are for me. How eager you get, and desperate. The way you taste…the way you feel.” He pauses to give a subtle sway of his hips, grinding himself against you to receive another soft whine from you. “I know that one orgasm isn’t enough for you,” he smirks, pinning your hands above your head and pressing his forehead to yours. “It’s not enough for me either. Not when you’ve been away from me so long.” You lick your lips, drawing his attention to the movement of your tongue – you smirk at the way he locks in, a brief falter in his demeanor. “I need to wear you out,” he breathes.

“What are you waiting for?”

[wordsofwhimsy]

๑ The Cycle of You ๑

y'all got to know it by now if you live in the Mark Grayson tag like I do but art credit goes to the amazingly talented @gods-banshee!!!

Pairing: Shiesty!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship!! Threatens of self-harm

Genres: Angst, romance, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,172

Inspiration: “Ex-Factor” — Lauryn Hill

Synopsis: You and Mark are in love in the most toxic way, and neither of you are willing to let go.

Being in a relationship with Mark was hard. It was the kind of hard that made you question your sanity, like walking through a storm you knew would tear you apart, but somehow still hoping for something better on the other side.

Mark, or as he called himself these days, “Invincible,” wasn’t exactly the most… stable partner. Sure, he was cocky and brash, wearing that boldly colored costume with the shiesty mask over his face like it made him untouchable. He’d walk around like he owned the world, that signature smirk plastered on his face, a swagger to his every step that screamed confidence. But beneath that facade? It was like peeling an onion—layers of insecurities, fears, and emotions he refused to acknowledge or deal with.

He’d snap at you for the smallest thing, then pull you close and kiss you like it was the only thing that made sense in the world. He could be sweet one moment and cruel the next. You'd fight, you'd argue, and then... nothing. Just silence, until he made some grand gesture to keep you close. It was a toxic cycle, but damn, it was a cycle that somehow felt impossible to break.

“Don’t you get it?” Mark would say. “I’m doing this for us. We’re in this together. Always.”

To him, this was love. He’d never learned how to show affection without wrapping it in a barrier of pride and chaos.

You were tired of the back-and-forth, tired of the games. It was exhausting, and yet, you always found yourself coming back. Why? Because no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how many walls he put up, you loved him. And you knew, deep down, he loved you too.

One night, after another argument that felt like it was leading nowhere, Mark stormed out of the room—slamming the door behind him. You barely had time to process what had just happened before you heard the faint sound of something heavy being thrown against the wall. Your heart started to race, an awful sinking feeling crawling up your spine.

You waited for a moment, listening for any more sounds. Silence.

Then, it hit you. You didn’t have to wait. He was doing it again. You knew Mark’s patterns—this wasn’t the first time he’d stormed off, only to return later with some kind of dramatized crisis, desperate for attention. Desperate for you.

You stood up, moving toward the door to make sure everything was okay. But before you could reach the hallway, Mark’s voice—low, desperate—sounded from the other side.

“You think I don’t care? You think I don’t care about you? I do—I just... I can’t keep doing this.” His voice was shaking, and you could hear the weight of his words, even if you knew part of it was for show. “If you want me to just leave you the hell alone, I will. But you need to know this: I can’t handle it anymore. I just... I don’t know what else to do.”

Your pulse quickened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You reached for the doorknob, but before you could open it, the door slammed open on its own, revealing Mark standing in the hallway.

He was holding something in his hand—a bottle of pills, his knuckles white around it. His eyes met yours, dark and frantic.

“You think this is a joke?” Mark’s voice was unsteady, but there was a sick, twisted confidence in it too. “Maybe I’ll just take these. Maybe I’ll just make it all stop. You’ll see how much you really mean to me, huh?”

Your stomach dropped. You tried to take a step forward, but your feet felt frozen to the floor. “Mark, don’t—”

He laughed, though it was more of a bitter chuckle, his hand shaking as he twisted the cap off the pill bottle. “What? You think I’m bluffing? You think I’m just trying to get you to stay?” His smile was all teeth. “Maybe you’ll believe me this time, huh? Maybe then you’ll realize what you’re doing to me.”

"Stop it!" Your voice broke, and your hands shook as you tried to reach for him, but he stepped back, holding the bottle further away. "Mark, please—this isn't the way. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt yourself to make me care."

For a moment, his eyes flickered, and you thought—just for a split second—that he was going to drop the act. But the moment passed too quickly. His smile faded into something darker, more desperate.

“Maybe you’ll finally care if I’m gone.” His voice cracked, barely a whisper now. “Maybe then you’ll see how much you mean to me. How much this—you—mean to me.”

Your heart was hammering, and the fear in your chest was suffocating. You knew the pattern—this was his way of drawing you back in, pulling you into his chaos to make you feel responsible. He wasn’t going to hurt himself. Not really. He never did. But it was a tactic. A manipulation.

But the fear still gripped you, because no matter how many times he used this trick, it still cut deep every time.

“Mark, listen to me. You can’t do this. You’re scaring me.” You took a step closer, carefully, trying to get him to listen. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

He hesitated, staring down at the bottle, and for the briefest moment, you saw the cracks in his facade. His chest heaved with emotion, and the hardness in his face seemed to soften just enough for you to see the truth—he was scared. Just as scared as you were. But he didn’t know how to admit it. He didn’t know how to reach out without trying to control the situation.

“I... I don’t know how to fix this,” he murmured, his voice suddenly much quieter, almost fragile. “I don’t know how to make it stop hurting.”

You reached out, slowly taking his hand, your fingers brushing over the pills. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself, Mark. We can work through this... together. But not like this.”

There was a long, tense silence between you, broken only by the sound of Mark’s shaky breath. Slowly, his grip on the pill bottle loosened, and he let it fall to the floor.

“You make me crazy,” he muttered, his face buried in his hands as he dropped to his knees. “I just—I don’t know how to be enough for you. How to be what you need. I’m losing you, aren’t I?”

You knelt down beside him, wrapping your arms around him. “No. You’re not losing me. But this—this isn’t how we fix things. You don’t have to push me away. I’m here, okay? But you’ve got to stop doing this.”

Mark clung to you, his body shaking with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. The storm raged inside of him, and you both knew it wasn’t over. The cycle would continue, as it always did. You loved him—too much, maybe. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough to save either of you.

And yet, you stayed.

—

Later that night you were sprawled out on the couch, half-watching some random show on TV, trying to unwind after a long day. The soft hum of the television filled the living room, but your mind was elsewhere, drifting between the quiet moments and the chaotic ones with Mark. You were still trying to piece everything together, to understand the weight of what had happened earlier. The arguments. The tension. The love that seemed to both save and suffocate you.

The sound of water running from the master bathroom snapped you from your thoughts. Mark was showering again—something about him needing a few moments to himself after everything, the way he used water to wash off his frustrations. You let the sound of the running water settle in, letting it be one of the few things that could calm you down.

Minutes passed, the only noise in the room being the occasional clink of the TV show’s soundtrack. You were starting to lose track of time when you heard his voice calling out to you.

"Hey... babe," Mark's voice was soft, almost tentative. "Can you come here?"

You sat up, letting out a sigh as you got off the couch and stepped thoughtlessly toward the master bedroom. When you walked in your breath hitched, freezing at the sight of him. Mark was kneeling on the bed, shirtless and pantless, his toned body gleaming with the remnants of the shower. He was still wearing his shiesty mask, the familiar fabric dangling loosely over his face.

You couldn’t help but admire the sight. He looked good, too good. The way his muscles rippled as he shifted, the way the water droplets clung to his skin, his posture—it was all so raw and real. But beneath all that, you couldn’t help the tinge of sadness that crept up in your chest. Even in his most exposed state, he still felt the need to hide his face. The part of him that you wanted to see the most was always shrouded in darkness.

Mark beckoned you with a simple, almost casual gesture—a slight motion of his hand, inviting you to join him on the bed.

"Come here," he said quietly, his voice rougher now, but still laced with that trademark confidence. Something in the way he said it—something in the way his body was tense, the mask still perched on his face—told you it wasn’t just a casual request. It was more. It always was with him.

You moved toward the bed, your steps measured but gentle. As you climbed onto the soft sheets in front of him, you couldn’t help but feel that pull between you, the one that had always existed, even when the space between you felt impossible.

You gingerly reached for the fabric of his mask with a quiet determination, your fingers brushing against the rough material. Mark’s body stiffened at first, like he wasn’t sure what you were doing. But he didn’t pull away. He didn’t stop you.

You slowly, carefully lifted the mask off his face, your fingers grazing his skin as it fell away. The look in his eyes—wide, almost a little unsure—caught you off guard. He was so exposed now, more vulnerable than he ever wanted to be. But there it was, that beautiful face of his—the face you always wanted to see, the one that made your heart ache when he kept it hidden.

You looked at him for a long moment, your gaze soft but filled with affection. His expression was uncertain, like he was waiting for you to pull away or laugh or say something hurtful, something that matched the cold, guarded mask he so often wore.

But you didn’t. You just took his face in your hands, your thumb brushing across his jawline as you appreciate the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. "Mark," you whispered, voice full of tenderness, "You’re so handsome."

You smiled softly, your thumb still brushing gently across his cheek. "I'm so lucky to have you," you continued in a whisper. And then, without another thought, you leaned in to kiss him—softly at first, as if you were trying to reassure him that these weren’t just empty words.

Mark’s lips met yours with a softness you hadn’t expected, a tenderness that felt almost out of place. Normally, his kisses were rough, urgent, filled with a burning intensity that left no room for hesitation. His touch was always a little too strong, his hands pulling you close like he was afraid you might slip away. But this—this kiss was different.

For a brief moment, you let yourself enjoy it, savoring the gentleness of his lips against yours. You could feel the sincerity in his touch, a quietness to it that you weren’t used to. It was almost like he was letting his guard down, just for a second, and you let yourself fall into it. The world outside of that kiss faded away, and you held on to that softness, grateful for it.

But the softness didn’t last long. The kiss quickly grew more insistent, more familiar. His hands found their way to your back, pulling you in with a possessive force that left no room for doubt. The tenderness dissolved, and what was left was the intense, commanding kiss you were used to—rough, desperate, a silent demand for you to feel just how much he wanted you.

And despite the shift, despite the intensity of it, you didn’t pull away. You welcomed it, knowing it was just as much a part of him as the gentleness had been. You knew the balance—knew how to dance between the softness and the fire.

[flymetothexmoon]

Tickets + Claw Machines

Warning: Swearing, angry Thanos at claw machines. Subtle Sexual Innuendo's about possible Blindfold Kink. Vaping. Slight mention of Alcohol consumption.

Pairing: Established Relationship with Choi Su-Bong x F!Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Baby, can you please tell me where we are going?"

All your life, you have always been called impatient and now was no exception. The grip you had on your boyfriend's hand tightened as he continued to guide you through the busy sidewalks of the Hongdae Neighborhood. To be honest the only reason you knew what district of Seoul you were in was because you had overheard a tourist mentioning the name.

Thanos was no stranger to how impatient you were, and honestly, the way your voice oozed with desperation was something he would always love; he wanted needed you to need him. He ate up your neediness the same way he would slam you against a wall or place you on top of the nearest counter and eat you.

"Relax, señorita. You're going to love where I am taking you tonight." Your spine shivered at the nickname. The first time you and Thanos met, he had used the nickname to get your attention before rapping in front of you about how you were his beauty flower and how much of a legend he was– a memory that would still bring a smile to your face to this day.

A low giggle escaped your vocal cords as you continued to be at the mercy of your boyfriend, who was trying his best to navigate through the busy sidewalks as you definitely felt your shoulders bump into other people a few times. A few people tried to curse at you two for being so clumsy, but for the most part it was normal behavior where you two were and people were accustom to the fast paced living.

By the time you two had finally reached your destination, Thanos came to a stop so quick that you almost tumbled forward, bumping slightly into your boyfriend's chest as you tried to compose yourself. A murmured chuckle escaped his own vocal cords as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as a mixture of his cologne and the vape he was smoking earlier filled your lungs. Thanos continued to hold you with one arm as he slowly moved a piece of hair that was stuck in the blindfold you were currently wearing.

"You know princess, people probably thought we were fucking crazy. Roaming around downtown with that blindfold over your pretty little deer eyes. Probably thought we were tryna find a place to fuck or sum and you were into some kinky blindfold shit..."

Thanos was never to one to hold back, and he definitely did not with that comment. Your breath hitched, and he felt it; felt it so hard that a small smirk spread across his lips as they soon found their way close to your ear, his tongue practically tickling you as he spoke again, this time much quieter. "They would not be wrong, would they?"

You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to not let it show how right he was.

"I said, they would not be wrong... would they? If I found an alley right now and slammed you against it and kept the blindfold on... You'd fucking love it. Wouldn't you?"

Blood began to coat your tongue as you chewed on the inside of your cheek harder, nodding your head slowly as you attempted to push your body against his.

"Yes..."

Your boyfriend's laughter filled your ears again, this time in more of a mocking, playful manner, as you felt his hands release from your waist and get close to your face, the metal of his rings gently gracing against your cheeks as he removed the blindfold, showcasing where the surprise was taking place.

An audible gasp escaped your vocal cords as your lips parted, gasping at where you were.

The signature neon lighting on the outside, the famous crown decal that nestled above the name of the building. All of it made you feel like a kid again as the grip you hand on Thanos' hand tightened, a low squeal escaping from you as you ran the two of you inside familiar building.

♚

짱 게임

Zzang Games was familiar; the way you could see all the different lights on each game glowing from each separate area of the building, the way you could touch each prize before deciding which one would come home with you, the way you could smell the way tickets shot from the bottom certain games, the way you could taste the food from the dining area before actually deciding what you want to eat, and the way you could hear the laughter from both children and adults as they ran around to each game they wanted to play.

It did not take long for Thanos to decide what he wanted to do first. You were so caught up in the idea of being there, it took you a moment to realize the hand that was once holding yours was no longer there. Your eyes scanned across the room you were in, desperately trying to find your boyfriend's signature purple locks. Finally, your eyes rested on his location as you made your way toward him.

Thanos was focused, his pupils dilated and one of his hands was planted firmly on a button, and the other was wrapped around the motion sensor that activated the crane itself; his hand tattoo was practically budging out of his skin at how focused he was. A small smile tugged at your lips as you realized what he was trying to win – a giant Cinnamoroll, your favorite Sanrio character.

You were careful not to make any sudden movements in fear of distracting the purple haired man next to you; his tongue playfully sliding out of the corner of his mouth as the game began to light up, playing generic carnival music as you watched the crane drop and even wrap around Cinnamoroll's ears, picking him up slightly.

And just like that...

He dropped.

"Son of a bitch! Rigged piece of plastic."

A murmured gasp escaped your vocal cords as your boyfriend's fist collided with the button he was pressing, already getting upset for not winning.

The gasp was quiet enough for him to look up from the see through glass and look at you, leaning in slowly as he pressed a lasting kiss to your cheek and then divided his attention back to the claw machine in front of you two, eagerly swiping the game card that was loaded with however much Thanos could afford. When it came to spoiling his girl and trying to win her a few silly prizes, he was willing to max out whatever he needed to see you smile.

Second try...

Third try...

By the fourth try, Thanos had scared off one little kid from trying to play and slightly bruised his knuckles from punching button so hard. The generic music started to play on loop in your head as you started to get a little sleepy from standing around as your boyfriend focused on this one specific game. You yawned quietly, placing your head on his shoulder as your arms wrapped around his torso; your much smaller frame looking like quite the contrast against him as he focused up once more.

"Baby I am sure there are so many other cute things, let's go play something different!" you were confident the sleepiness showed in your voice as you could feel him tensing slightly against your touch, dropping the crane again as your eyes closed slightly.

"No, I need to when this silly little thing for you. What even is he? A bunny?"

You yawned again, gently pulling on Thanos' shirt as you held onto him tighter, nodding your head against his waist, your voice quiet against the loud noises from the machine.

"I think so,"

Finally, you felt Thanos' body jerk forward, hitting the button again with his knuckles, and before you could scold him further, your eyes had quickly opened and were met with soft, white material, as the realization kicked in that Thanos had won the Cinnamoroll for you. Squaling, you too jerked from his body as your arms replaced from wrapping around your boyfriend to holding the stuffed character against your chest, your smile contagious as Thanos himself started to smile softly, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Guess all I needed was to get mad at the stupid thing a few more times. You want to find some more games to play where we can actually get tickets for some cooler shit? I think I saw a Drone or sum in the shop."

For the next few hours you and Thanos laughed, smiled, and Cinnamoroll all made memories as you and your purple haired boyfriend took over each room of the building, playing anything from a neon lit basketball simulator, to dancing simulator that Thanos actually surprised you at with how quick his feet moved to even more claw machines.

As the moon grew brighter on the outside of the building, your body's internal clock definitely started to signal how late it was really getting as your stuffed Sanrio character sat in your lap as you and Thanos were finally sitting down to enjoy what was your dinner but time wise ended up being more of a midnight snack.

You swirled the little black straw in your drink, watching the condensation slide down your glass as you brought it back to your lips, the familiar taste of pineapples hitting your insides as you hiccuped, setting the glass back down in front of you, admiring the purple haired man sitting across from you who was balancing his phone sideways against his own drink, clicking on his screen a couple times to play a video to watch as his other hand shoved a chicken wing into his mouth, careful to disregard of the bone, his eyes glued to the tiny screen as he ate.

You smiled.

Like really smiled.

The first time you met Thanos the two of you had quickly established that you two would never be able to commit to a full relationship, and now here you two were, in a relationship as you watched him watch his silly little videos on his phone, presumably watching clips from his favorite rap battle show or maybe the occasional crude humor video.

You picked up the plushy that sat in your lap, hugging it tight against your chest again.

"Looks like I am probably not getting any action tonight by the way you keep holding that silly thing,"

A warm blush spread across your cheeks.

"Cinnamoroll and I are both offended. Obviously they will not be present during any of that..."

The night grew, and so did your tiredness. Eventually, Thanos grew tired himself, and you could tell because the dilation on his pupils was almost non exsistent when he finally decided to cash in the amount of tickets he'd accumulated.

Thanos swiped the little reward card into a computer as you two watched the screen, both of you in awe as the numbers on the screen grew higher and higher, the music playing from the computers mechanics were different than the music that played on each of the games, each of the claw machines, as it continued to continued to read the amount of tickets.

Finally, the numbers dropped, and a message appeared.

축하합니다. 당첨금이 계산되었습니다...

150,000장의 티켓을 교환할 수 있습니다.

Congratulations, your winnings have been calculated...

150,000 tickets redeemable.

By the way your boyfriend reacted, you could not help but start to giggle as the tickets flew out from a little compartment at the bottom, Thanos grabbing all of them in one hand and grabbing your hand with the other as he ran the two of you to the area where the prizes were.

You held your plushy close to your chest as you slowly walked around the area, admiring each of the prizes, even seeing a few other random Sanrio merchandise items such as a pencil set, an LED wall decal, and a few other things, but you knew this moment was for Thanos as you watched him annoy the prize attendee to unlock the case where the Drone he mentioned wanting needing was.

"What am I going to use if for? What am I not going to use it for? Maybe I want to take cool ass videos of the night sky or sum. I dunno. My girl loves that shit."

Thanos had found you looking at a random prize when he nudged you gently with his hip, indicating he was ready to leave as he extended his free hand out for you to grab, which you happily did, the other holding your plushy as the two of you were finally met with the night sky again, a slight shiver rattling your bones as the temperature had dropped significantly since you were outside last.

You watched as your boyfriend slowly let go of your hand, digging deep in his jeans pocket and you already knew what he was digging for, a playful eyeroll being earned from you as you watched him find what he was looking for, bringing the light blue cartridge to his lips as he inhaled, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before exhaling, the smell of berries filling your nose.

Just as quick as he took the first hit, Thanos took a second one, placing the vape deep in his pockets once more as he kept the smoke inside his lungs for a moment, the slow burn slowly causing little bubbles to appear on the inside as he finally exhaled, turning to look at you with a smirk on his lips, reaching out to grab ahold of your hand, his lips slowly pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles as he looked deep in your eyes, mumbling softly...

"So about that blindfold from earlier. You down to use that in the bedroom later?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[nymph-ette111]

Jeff with a S/O that genuinely thinks he hates her most the time? Like he’s just such an unaffectionate dick she feels like she’s almost in a one sided relationship, but he has no idea how to show her how much he loves and cared about his partner.

WARNINGS; TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, JEFFREY WOODS HIMSELF IS A WARNING

AUTHOR'S NOTE; I really enjoyed writing this! @moldypeaching Incase you forgot about this request, terribly sorry for taking such a long time :')

- Your feelings are completely valid because the way this man perceives things and feels emotions genuinely needs to be studied.

- His feelings towards you are... complicated and I'm not sure how to describe it, it's not like he fucking hates your guts or something—if that were the case he wouldn't even consider a relationship with you— but it's so easy to mistake his way of showing love for the complete opposite. You're always paranoid, always doubting this man's intentions.

- The only kind of affection he's comfortable with is the sexual kind—he has no problem initiating heavy make-outs or rough sex, but the moment it’s something as simple as saying 'I love you' or innocently complimenting you without saying something out of pocket, he's rejecting it immediately.

- He’s convinced himself that you’re entirely dependent on him, that you can’t live without him. So, he feeds into his own delusions, using them as an excuse to treat you like shit without consequence. His thought process is 'She loves me too much to leave, so no matter what I do, she’ll always forgive me.’

- This of course leads to many, many arguments. Ones that hurt because Jeff hates a lot of things, and admitting he made a mistake is high on that list. If he's wrong, trust me, he's realized it a long time ago. He just doesn't want to back down and bruise his ego.

- Now I'm going to be a hypocrite and go against what I previously stated in another post about the jerk, most of these arguments have ended with break ups. Jeff is short-tempered—quick to blow up and end things in the heat of the moment. But he always comes back to you, almost desperate. If there was ever a time where you realized that Jeff actually gives a fuck, it's during those times.

- He comes back an absolute mess, probably drunk too. You take it upon yourself to take care of the man when he's in such state. That's when he actually apologizes for being an asshole. Drunk words are sober thoughts.

- What follows after is Jeff's attempts at being a better boyfriend but knowing him it would probably last a week before his old habits start to noticably seep in once again.

-There's really no way to fix this guy, he's messed up beyond repair. He really does love you he just can't show it. You have to be a master at romanticizing toxic relationships in order to continue dating this man.

[ateliersss]

TOP GUN #2

…is part of The Bookshelf.

⇨ This is a collection of my favorite fanfics/oneshots on Tumblr I love to re-read once in a while. None of those works belong to me! Feel free to use it as well.

⇨ My own works are here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Left at the Altar Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Can't Let You Go Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Wanting It All Summary: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.  

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts Summary: You and Jake had a history of flirting and occasionally kissing if too much time was spent at the bar, but it never went any further than that. One night, after showing up at your house and passing out on your couch, Jake wakes up the next morning only to learn he had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you.

Less Misery, More Company Summary: Jake has feelings for you but you don’t believe it, so you play a little trick to get back at him for all of his flirtatious teasing. But that little trick fails miserably, and as the weight of your mistake settles in, you realize you owe him an explanation, one that requires you to admit some things you’ve long denied.

Scrapes and Bruises Summary: Basically, Rooster is not thrilled about your relationship with Hangman, and their issues with one another bring up some fears of your own.

Good in Bed Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Cross Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.

There's a Honey Summary: 3 times your aunt penny sees herself and maverick in your relationship with jake and 1 time she doesn’t.

So Funny Story (I'm Fucking Your Daughter) Summary: You've had a thing with Jake for a while now. The thing is, your dad doesn't know and your brother is desperate for you to tell him.

All You Had To Do Was Stay Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Revelation

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Three Generations Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission

Endings and Beginnings Part 1, Part 2 Summary: It's Maverick's retirement party but Rooster's far more concerned about you, his pregnant wife, than anything else.

Wrong Number Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Only Love Can Hurt Like This Summary: Bob lost his fiancé in a dog fight and goes through the grieving process. Eventually he learns to move on but then everything he thought he knew was a lie, including the fact that Y/N had died on that mission.

All Fun & Games Summary: Returning to San Diego was just another assignment for you. Another step in the career path, full steam ahead, until you come to an obstacle in the road. Usually, you’d navigate around it, keep on going, but this is no normal obstacle. It might be enough to reroute you completely.

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Part of Three Summary: Reader is Maverick's sister, dating Iceman, and finds out she's pregnant.

Scared Summary: A fight between you and your fiancé spirals out of control.

Get Your Girl

Tom Is Finer

[itsalliny0urhead]

Good Boy (Dick Grayson x fem!reader)

💀🖤 I think this is my favourite one I’ve written so far. Do you want more parts? You left the League and never looked back — trading justice for blood and silk and the thrill of taking exactly what you want. When Dick shows up at your door years later, rain-soaked and desperate, asking for your help… you decide to say yes.

For a price.

Dick Grayson x fem!reader — enemies to lovers / ex-lovers / villain!reader

The penthouse is decadent.

Moonlight spills through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the city in silver at your back. Crystal glasses glint on the bar. A man’s wristwatch ticks softly on the marble countertop — its owner nowhere in sight. The whole place hums with something warm and wrong, like luxury pressed over rot.

He steps inside uninvited, though the lock’s already broken. You never leave doors intact. They don’t deserve that kind of mercy.

Then he sees you.

Reclined on a velvet chaise like a serpent in silk, legs bare, neck glowing in the pale light. Wine glass in hand, fingers lazy around the stem. A bloodstained blade resting on your thigh. Casual. Intimate. Like it belongs there.

There’s a smear of red across your collarbone. Still wet.

“Grayson,” you purr, not bothering to look up. “I was wondering when you’d come crawling.”

His mouth goes dry.

“You killed them, didn’t you?”

Your gaze lifts — slow, deliberate. Your eyes gleam like a blade unsheathed.

“Which ones?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

This penthouse belonged to someone else — their coats still hang in the entryway. A framed photo smiles from the wall. A child’s drawing on the fridge, curling at the edges. You haven’t erased them. Just claimed the space like a queen conquering a kingdom.

You’ve never tried to be clean. You made yourself unholy.

“I need your help,” he says, jaw clenched.

That earns him a laugh — low, husky, deliciously cruel. You tilt your head, silk slipping lower on your shoulder, revealing the edge of a bruise or maybe a bite.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you breathe, “you must be desperate.”

You set the glass down without looking, the clink of crystal against marble slicing clean through the quiet.

Then you rise.

Slow. Languid. Every movement deliberate. Your bare feet whisper across the hardwood, silk sliding over skin like it was poured there — clinging to the swell of your hips, the line of your thighs, the sharp curve of your collarbone still kissed with blood. Not a costume. Not armor.

You wear danger like perfume.

And he — he stands frozen, soaked from the rain, boots bleeding water onto the polished floor, pulse hammering under his skin like it knows.

You stop in front of him, not touching. Just hovering. Close enough that he can smell you — not just wine and something floral, but something darker underneath. Copper. Smoke. A hint of gunpowder that makes his stomach twist.

This close, you’re both everything he remembers and nothing like the girl he used to know.

Once, you used to laugh when you sparred — wild, breathless, too sharp for your own good. He used to call you reckless. You’d grin and say he was just afraid to lose.

Once, you used to braid your hair before missions. Sit on the edge of the rooftop, tongue caught between your teeth as you wove it tight with shaking hands. He’d watch you from a distance, pretending not to care.

Now? Now your hair’s loose — wild, untamed, drying in waves that frame your face like something feral. Your eyes glint like broken glass.

“You look good,” you say, voice low and thick with something dangerous. “Little worn. Little wet.” Your gaze drops, lingers. “Still pretending you’re not exactly where you want to be.”

His jaw tightens. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“No,” you hum, “you came to beg.”

You take one slow step closer, and he doesn’t stop you.

Your fingers trace his jaw — featherlight, but it burns. Like contact with something holy and forbidden. You touch him like you have a right to. Like you still own the map of his skin.

“You want my help,” you whisper, thumb dragging over the edge of his lip, “but you’re choking on it. On me.”

He doesn’t breathe.

There was a night — years ago — after a mission that went sideways. You’d stolen a bottle of vodka from the med bay. Pushed it into his hands. Sat beside him on the floor, your backs to the wall, your knee pressed against his. Your voice had gone quiet when you’d said, “We’re not built to be good forever.”

He hadn’t believed you.

Until you proved it.

“You’re not the same person,” he says now, barely audible.

You smile — slow, sharp, brutal.

“No,” you murmur. “I’m better.”

Your hand trails lower — down his chest, over the line of his belt, not quite touching. Teasing. Threatening. You’re not sure which would be worse for him.

“And you,” you continue, voice a blade wrapped in silk, “still clinging to that broken little moral compass like it ever pointed north. But you came here. To me.”

You lean in — lips brushing his ear, your breath warm and cold all at once.

“So say it, Grayson. Say the words. I want to hear them bleed.”

There’s a version of you in his memory, sitting cross-legged on the Watchtower floor, humming under your breath while disassembling a prototype bomb — hands steady, eyes shining, voice soft when you said, “Do you think we’ll ever get out?”

That girl is gone.

And yet — when he looks at you now, standing there in blood and silk and sin — he’s not sure you didn’t become something more terrifyingly honest.

“I need you,” he says, broken and raw.

Finally.

You exhale like a slow smile, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Good boy.”

You move like you own the room. Like you own him.

He doesn’t follow when you turn away — just watches you glide toward the bar again, silk whispering over skin, blood still drying on your shoulder. The room smells like wine and metal. Like sex and death.

You finish your drink in a single, slow swallow, red lips staining the glass. Then you set it down, turn, and lean back against the bar — arms folded, head tilted, smiling like you’re already undressing him with your eyes.

Because you are.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight,” you say. “I’ve killed for less than the way you looked at me when you walked in.”

His voice scrapes low. “You’ve killed for less than everything.”

You grin. “Exactly.”

There’s a flicker — just a breath of memory:

You were sixteen the first time you went off-mission. The intel was bad. The target was worse. You slit a man’s throat in an alley while Dick watched, stunned, heart thudding in his chest. You didn’t flinch. Just wiped the blade on your sleeve and said, “If we leave him breathing, he follows us.”

He hadn’t slept that night. You had.

Now, you step forward again, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving his. Your fingertips skim along the back of a leather chair as you pass it. You’re circling him again — like hunger in human skin.

“But I’ll help you,” you say, almost sweetly. “For a price.”

You stop behind him. He can feel the heat of you, the press of the silence between.

“I want a night,” you whisper — right at the edge of his ear, voice thick like molasses, like something you drown in. “With you. Not Robin. Not Nightwing. Not whatever mask you’re wearing this week.”

Your hands slide over his shoulders, down his arms — slow and teasing and cruel. “I want the part of you that still wants me,” you breathe, “no matter how hard you’ve tried to forget.”

His hands curl into fists.

He remembers the night before you left. No uniform. No orders. Just the two of you on the Watchtower roof, watching Earth rotate in silence. You’d kissed him like it was a secret. Like you didn’t know when you’d get the chance again. And when you pulled back, you looked him in the eye and said:

“One day, I’m going to do something you can’t forgive.”

He hadn’t said anything.

Maybe you were waiting for him to ask you not to. Maybe that’s why you left.

Now you pull around in front of him again, your lips so close he can taste the wine on your breath.

“When this is over,” you say, dragging one finger slowly up his chest, “you come back here. And I’ll ruin you properly. Take my time with it. Peel off every pretty lie you’ve wrapped around yourself just to breathe.”

You lean in — tongue flicking the edge of his jaw. Your lips graze his skin like a brand.

“I want you kneeling. Bleeding. Mine.”

His voice is rough. “You always wanted ownership more than love.”

You smile. “Ownership is love, darling. You just never learned how to take it.”

And god help him — something in him still aches for you.

Still remembers the way you used to laugh when you trained together. The thrill in your eyes when you landed a hit. The sound of you, breathless in the dark, whispering:

“We could be legends, Dick.”

He wanted to be a hero. You wanted to be a god.

“…Deal,” he says again, quieter. Like a confession.

You step back — satisfied. Triumphant.

“Good boy.”

[chaoticallykinkygrem]

Have u ever thought about cam boy Regulus??? James starting as a subscriber, then buying private shows from Reg, the possibilities🫦

-🕊️

You understand me dove. We have officially connected neurons.

NSFW (but not the most nsfw I’ve written)

James would have his shirtless chest as his pfp and regulus would assume he was using a random photo he found online.

James would start off doing smaller donations on stream with messages like “you’re so beautiful” “gods I want you so bad rn” “please cum for me” etc. He then starts ordering customs from regulus. He starts with photos, just asking to see regulus after he cums or in a skirt or something, but eventually moves on to full videos.

Mind you him and regulus are dming this entire time. Regulus originally treats him like any other client but he slowly starts letting his guard down around the goofy flirty man in his dms.

Regulus is feeling hot and bothered one night and desperately wants to know what prongs (James online name) sounds and looks like so he slides into his DMs with a photo of him wearing lingerie James bought him with the caption “Care to help me tonight prongs?” James immediately goes fucking feral and responds with an absolute “gods yes baby”. They start texting and regulus eventually asks “wanna see how much I affect you~”

James replies with a pretty basic (but still art like) photo of his rock hard dick. Regulus wasn’t expecting him to be so big and girthy so he finds himself squeezing his thighs and getting wetter just looking at the picture. He sends James a photo of how wet he is for him and asks for James to tell him what to do. Regulus begs for James to send him a video of him cumming, needing to know what this Adonis sounds like.

“Fuck yes baby. So fucking good and all for me. Is that right love?” James sends as a voice note to help regulus along. Regulus finds himself responding out loud, as if James was actually there and could hear him. The voice note works its magic though and regulus sends James a video of him cumming while moaning out prongs. James sends his own video in response before they both get offline to clean up.

They keep talking and James keeps sending regulus money for customs. One day he asks how much it would be for a private video call and regulus just responds with “For you baby, it’s completely free. Call me at *phone number*”. Regulus knows he’s in love with this man and so he impulsively sends his phone number, hoping he’ll be able to finally see prongs’ face.

One thing leads to another and regulus finds out James is best friends with his long lost brother and lives like 15 minutes away.

[butterflydm]

WoT 3x05 Deep Dive (additional book spoilers)

Spoilers through 3x05 of the show and through the last book, A Memory of Light. This is mostly a tag-along to my show-spoilers post, covering the thoughts that required extra book spoilers.

So. Is Verin the twelfth Black Ajah sister of the ones that Liandrin knew about? The one who was left behind? Or was it Alviarin?

I do think Verin is a possibility, because I think that Verin has been contacted and used by Lanfear -- back in s2, I suspected that Tomas was the person who knocked out Mat to deliver him to Lanfear. And it's Verin who met up with Moiraine in 3x01 before Lanfear just conveniently wandered down the correct road to find them. As if she knew exactly where they would be.

Of course, our Verin has her own plots and plans in motion but, right now, I think she probably thinks that going along with Lanfear is likely the best way of helping the Dragon as much as she can, since Lanfear is the only Forsaken who doesn't want to hurt Rand. Essentially, she's playing the same game as Moiraine did in 3x01.

otoh, Nyomi did not seem to know about Verin; and Verin seemed genuinely distraught about Adelas. So it might be that, yes, Verin is working for Lanfear (part-time) but she's not one of the Black Ajah Sisters that Liandrin knows about -- maybe that one, the twelfth one of the four hearts, is Alviarin.

(in theory, it might be Sheriam, but since the actress isn't in this season, I lean towards it not being her)

Unfortunately, I feel like the encounter with Elaida is going to lead to Siuan letting her guard down slightly, now that she feels convinced that Elaida is not Black Ajah, not realizing that's not the only threat that Elaida can pose. Meanwhile, Elaida seems way more focused on the fact that Siuan set her up than that Siuan healed her.

Given That One Thing that Alanna does in the books, I don't begrudge the time that we're spending here on showing how desperate she's becoming. I think the viewers understanding how she gets to the place where she's willing to force a bond on the Dragon Reborn is time worth spending.

I do suspect that Maksim may die at the end of the season (or, rather in 3x07), because right now he is still serving as something of a brake on her going full-bore "ends justify the means". But this episode shows us that she is willing to use herself up in this cause, and I feel like knowing that is helpful for the future.

Will Dain still get his book storyline of being able to get over his hatred of Aes Sedai and his need for revenge enough to work with Perrin in the Last Battle? Or is Dain going to die, and Galad will take up that storyline? I have always felt like it's a bit redundant for them both to get that same narrative of learning to work with Perrin.

We did see Whitecloaks fighting with the Two Rivers people against Trollocs in the trailer, so it might be that Dain redeems himself. But the fact that he handed Natti Cauthon over to be tortured and murdered by Valda makes me feel like it's MUCH less likely that he'll survive this season to get his full book storyline. Just like the show has taken a pretty hard line on the Seanchan, it feels like they're taking a harder line against the Whitecloaks as well.

We will see how it plays out!

Also! This episode continues Perrin's theme of "people shouldn't be in cages", which feels promising. I wonder how we might continue that theme in the future with him, especially with the harder line the show has taken on the Seanchan. It feels like the show may be less inclined to take Perrin in a "willing to sell hundreds of women into slavery to save his wife" sort of direction than the books went, though time will tell.

So, my assumption is that Melindhra is still a Darkfriend spy, just as she was in the books. I am leaning towards thinking that she's been claimed by Sammael, who I suspect is going to be behind the attack on Cold Rocks Hold that I think will happen next episode. The main question that I have is if Melindhra's true loyalties will be revealed in 3x06 and if she'll die at that time, or if her true loyalties will remain unknown and her character will continue on.

If Melindhra is revealed to be a Darkfriend, then that could lead towards Lan deciding that her urging him to retake Malkier was an attempt to distract him away from helping Moiraine and Rand, and that would help explain why he puts that all to the side for the duration of the series (until we get to nearer to the Last Battle).

The show has definitely done a lot more to show us why people become Darkfriends, and why even our heroes might be tempted by the pitches that Darkfriends make -- Melindhra making the case to Lan to go and reclaim Malkier is a much better pitch than her trying to urge Mat out of Rand's shadow in the books, which was something that tempted Mat not at all, just as Rand was never tempted by Lanfear after he learned who she really was. The Darkfriends in the show are just better at manipulation than the Darkfriends in the books.

The big issue in Rand & Egwene's relationship is that they lack conflict-resolution skills and it leads to them never being able to talk out their differences.

Who on the show has already illustrated excellent communication and conflict-resolution skills (specifically when it comes to Rand & Aviendha, her two prospective lovers)?

Our girl Elayne!

I am a little sad we lost Rand doing the roofmistress ritual but I think we got the essence of that scene when we got him doing Aviendha's version of the Rhuidean presentation scene, so I'm okay with it. All the essential elements were in that scene, I think. Rand's willingness to try his best to do the right thing by Aiel culture but not knowing the correct ritual because he's copying someone else is there, and also the Shaido disliking that his incorrect ritual was accepted as good enough.

I like that Aviendha is being forced to teach Rand because of her own stubbornness about him being the Car'a'carn as opposed to it being the Wise Ones trying to spy on him or them trying to get him to fall in love with her. This is about teaching Rand Aiel ways and about teaching Aviendha that the more stubborn she is about denying true things, the more they will force her to face those things.

Of course, it seems clear from a book reader perspective that a lot of Aviendha's stubbornness here is about seeing her futures in the rings and not wanting to admit that any of what she saw could really be in her future, and disliking every moment when Rand does something that she finds attractive or appealing, because it reveals to her that her future path really is what she's meant to do.

The very first thing that Aviendha pokes Rand about is whether or not wetlanders share lovers. I see you, girl! I see you pondering what you saw in the rings. Presumably, she's concerned about being a homewrecker, since the Aiel grow up being taught that wetlanders 'own' each other in relationships (per what Aviendha said to Perrin last season). It is definitely a shift from the books in several ways -- it's really only Aviendha's own honor and pride that are at stake here, since Rand and Elayne aren't involved; and Aviendha isn't close to Egwene (so she wouldn't be stepping on the toes of anyone that she feels like a 'near-sister' to if she developed feelings for Rand). She might also be concerned that her destiny is to carry the emotional weight of the relationship with Rand all by herself, given that she makes it clear she thinks that the emotional weight in a relationship is best shared by (at least) three people.

When she gets it re-affirmed to her that wetlanders don't share lovers as a rule, she gets grumpy over it and takes it out on Rand. Again, I see you, girl.

I... it is an interesting choice for the show to deliberately tie Egwene's motivation in this season to devoting herself to Rand, and doing everything to try to help and protect Rand, while Rand's endgame love interests are both helping Rand (though unwillingly in Aviendha's case) but are very much currently not doing things 'for' Rand, but are working on their own agendas as people (Aviendha's main struggle is learning to see herself as a Wise One instead of a Maiden, and her storyline with Rand is in service to that; while Elayne's storyline is helping Rand in the sense that Liandrin is a direct and present danger to him, but her motivations are centered around her own sense of agency and 'earning' her crown instead of it being handed to her, and helping with the Last Battle).

Because, gotta admit it, Egwene is reminding me of book!Min right now. Everything in her life revolves around Rand; even her personal studies (philosophy in Min's case; channeling in Egwene's) are explicitly about helping her be better about helping Rand. Part of the reason that it's interesting to me is because there were also times in s2 when 'Selene' and her approach to a relationship with Rand strongly reminded me of book!Min -- in that case, using deception to get herself into a relationship with him, and now this characterization that they've given Lanfear of reflecting back to Rand/LTT what he wants to see and hiding any of the rest of herself from him.

My current assumption is that this arc with Egwene is leading up to her regaining her sense of needing to further her own agenda and destiny rather than dedicating herself to Rand, but I have to admit that I'm getting somewhat impatient about it happening and I really hope that 3x06 marks a big change in how Egwene and Rand relate to each other because it feels like they've been treading water for a long time (this is, by far, the longest time they've ever spent together on the show, so that contributes to my feelings, I'm sure).

The thing I am worried about for 3x06 is that it'll be spun as a cheating narrative where Rand is The Bad Guy (TM) and Egwene is The Innocent And Perfect Victim (TM), but what I would like is Egwene taking the stance of "okay, you are being stalked in your dreams, just like I am, even if it's a different type of stalking, so let me teach you how to kick Lanfear out of your head" and that being how they transition out of being 'lovers' and into being friends.

The uncertainty of how the show will play the Randfear dreams is definitely part of what is currently making me nervous. Rand and Egwene's relationship has, so far, been the weakest part of the season for me, so I'm really hoping that turns around in 3x06 and that I can like and appreciate it for what it is in the show, instead of just wishing that it could be over and done with so that we could get on with the Rand relationship dynamics that I like better, lol.

But Randgwene is really the relationship where I am most trying to force myself to Embrace The Process and Be Patient and Let Them Cook, lol. It happens pretty naturally with the other storylines!

One of the main differences between show!TAR and book!TAR is the absence of the space between dreams -- instead, Egwene just jumps directly between the dreams of her friends. We also have Egwene being able to take Moiraine from her own dream into Siuan's, which I don't think is ever a thing that is shown as being possible in the books. So those are two major changes.

On the subject of changes to the magic... my theory about Sea Folk and channeling in the show -- strong channelers become Windfinders and weak channelers become Sailmistresses.

Nynaeve being the peacemaker between Mat and Elayne is somewhat hilarious but also is very fitting to how show!Nynaeve's relationship with Mat is much closer and more affectionate than book!Nynaeve's relationship with Mat ever was.

So... Min and Elayne's big introduction scene to each other and it doesn't get marked out at all -- the emphasis of the scene is on Min & Mat's relationship, and on her relief when Mat says that she can be trusted. I really am leaning towards Min being cut out of the future Randmance, for a variety of reasons, but this run of episodes with Min & Elayne kinda feels like the final test of whether or not they plan to include her.

On a similar note, Elayne's dream did more to sell me on the show doing Avilayne this early than actually hooking them up in 3x01 did, because it reinforces the "last night of freedom" vibe in a more emotionally deep way -- it associates Aviendha with freedom in Elayne's mind.

Processing them doing Avilayne first has led me down several rabbit holes and is one of the main things that has made me think that Min is potentially out of the polycule -- because my initial assumption is that Rand-Min would get together while Aviendha-Elayne were getting together (so like s5), and they would both be friends-to-lovers slowburns. Jumping Avilayne to already hooking up, and then getting them together with Rand in s4 makes it feel much less likely that they would have Rand get together with Min later on, because without a mirroring relationship of Avilayne getting together, it could potentially feel very unbalanced to an audience that is used to monogamous couples, where even asking them to accept a throuple is a bit of a leap.

Every time I think about the Stabbening viewing and what it implies about the future, it drives me a little wild. Because that wound is what kills Rand in the books! It just doesn't kill him until Shayol Ghul, when it breaks open again in the Dark One's prison. And it only kills his body, not his soul. But Min's viewing was right. Mat did stab Rand and that wound will kill Rand. It'll just take some time to get there.

[sparklystarrrr]

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Riddle R. x Alice! Reader

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻 ~ 𝓤𝓷𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽

What exactly did the dark mirror mean? How could I play an important piece in a game? It's not like we're playing chess. It was scary to think how the Dark Mirror probably wouldn't let me go home for the time being, but it doesn't matter. There was business I had to attend. What was that you ask? Being dragged around by Crowley to find my dorm since apparently he wouldn't let me into Heartslabyul, saying,"What would the press say about a girl being in a dorm full of boys?!" along with, "We already had a rabid cat flying around causing havoc, now this?!"

We had made a final stop to this... raggedy dorm. I must say, it certainly lived up to it's name 'Ramshackle'. "This is where you'll be staying! It may need a few touch-ups, but it has its own special charm doesn't it?" Crowley smiled with his graciousness absolutely overflowing. I deadpanned and spoke in a monotonous tone"I'm not staying here, Sir." It sort of seemed like his whole world shattered around him "WHAT?! But if not here, where will you stay?!" What a drama queen he certainly was. "I will be staying in Heartslabyul. If the Mirror decided I should be put in there, that is where I shall be!" I stomped my foot in annoyance and crossed my arms. If I was to be in Heartslabyul, that is where I will go, simple as that!

"M-miss Pleasance, have I not reiterated multiple times on why doing that would be a grave mistake-" "I WILL BE IN HEARTSLABYUL IF YOU NEED ME. GOOD DAY!" I was over the shenanigans! I stomped away and he chased after me, "Miss (y/n), would you like me to perhaps show you around this lovely dorm before we make our way to Heartslabyul? I assure you that although it does not have any running water it is a very endearing place to stay!" He sped up his pace of walking to be in line with me. I sped up. "Well, have I not reiterated MULTIPLE times that the Dark Mirror suggested I be in the correct dorm, that being Heartslabyul? You'd not want to go against the Mirror's judgment, now would you?" If he couldn't tell by my sharp tone of voice, my patience was waning thin. I hurried my pace and finally went through the portal taking me back to the school. Once we were in the mirror chamber I hopped into the Heartskabyul one with Crowley at my tail. "MISS (Y/N), YOU MUST AT THE LEAST CONSIDER MY GRACIOUS OFFER!!!" He yelped while I ran. "I HAVE HEADMASTER!! MY ANSWER IS NOOO!!!" 

When we ran inside the Heartslabyul living room he was right behind me still screaming about some,"CONSIDER THE ONCE IN A LIFE TIME OFFER MISS (Y/N)!!! RAMSHACKLE AWAITS!!" Like a desperate salesman, and I was NOT about to buy anything from him. "GET AWAY!! I'M SET TO BE IN HEARTSLABYULLL!!" I screamed in refutation. A crowd of Heartslabyul boys circled around us while we ran around in a frenzy of frustrated screaming. Just as I was about to give in from the exhaustion of this argument I saw Riddle and his familiar heart shaped strands of hair sticking up. I didn't actually see his face since he was much shorter than the rest of the boys in his dorm, but once he emerged his face was beat red.

"EXCUSE ME. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!!!" He seethed. I could tell he was trying not to absolutely explode just now and he was not doing a very good job of concealing it... Me and Crowley looked at each other,"HE'S TRYING TO BANISH ME TO RAMSHACKLE-" "SHE MUST NOT BE ALLOWED IN HEARTSLABYUL AS IT IS FULL OF BOYS-" They shouted over each other. Riddle took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself from the previous havoc. "As Headmaster is not a student here, I will not collar him, though as a role model here I would expect more from you than to participate in this uncivilized action." He then turned to me and a frown grew on his face"You (Y/n), on the other hand, it is OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" 

A metal collar wrapped around my neck and the heavy weight made me drop to the ground. "What the-" "Rule #10, no rambunctious behavior in the living quarters. Since you've broken the Queen's laws your punishment is baking the next Unbirthday Party's cake." He spoke in a straightforward tone and looked down at me, both figuratively and literally. I furrowed my brow, "Seriously?! He's the one going against the Dark Mirror and not allowing me to be in this dorm!" I rubbed the spot on my neck where the collar hung heavily, feeling a bruise forming on the back of my neck. "You've caused a havoc that was unneeded. As you're an assigned member of the Heartslabyul dorm, you'll be abiding by the Queen's every law." His tone was as sharp as the broken shard of a tea pot. Utterly cold and poised. It made me irritated beyond anything.

"How absurd! You won't even collar him for harassing me into making me go to Ramshackle? Unbelievable, Riddle." I huffed. "Collaring the Headmaster would go against the rules of the school as he's in charge, not me." He turned his back to me and ushered the crowd of nosy Heartslabyul boys into their dorms with irritation. There were two boys beside him, one with green hair and glasses who I recognized to be Trey, and a ginger boy with his hair pulled back. I fear I have yet to meet him. But sharing hellos would be irrelevant now as I had to go confront Crowley. "Headmaster, I will from this day forth, be residing in Heartslabyul and my opinion is final. I would rather lose control of my magic and be singed into a singular ember than live in a rickety house accompanied by ghosts." In other words, I would rather die than be in that hell hole. He lamented once more on how his reputation in the school would be forever tainted by my presence as a girl being enrolled at NRC. It was truly childish. Luckily, he made his way out, saying he would message a man named Crewel to fix up uniforms for me. I wondered if perhaps I could be a part of the process...

Anywho, I caught sight of Riddle debriefing to the two taller boys before. Trey was clearly trying his best while the ginger boy was equally doing his best, but... in his own manner. He seemed to speak in abbreviated words and modern way of speaking. It made his way of talking seem very bouncy and energetic, i feel like I would enjoy his presence very much! I tried walking over to Riddle, but the familiar look in Trey's eyes that he usually had when he told me not to touch a pastry, was used to tell me not to talk to Riddle right now. I sighed, would I not get to have a true friendly conversation with him after all this time? I hadn't seen him in years, since he was eight years old. Now he had to be at least 17. He'd become a different person while he was away. 'Oh, where was the Riddle I knew and loved' I thought to myself while walking down the long hallways of the Queen's dorm. 

The stairs had constant spirals and the checkered floors made this dorm seem like an optical illusion. Tea pots and cups floated all around me while books flapped their pages and covers like wings, flying right past my head. There had been clocks on every wall I turned my head to, thankfully they all possessed the same time. All cabinets and windows and doors had been warped into curvy shapes like squiggly doors and circular windows. Every table, big or small, had some sort of animal feet. A table holding a vase of red roses had bird feet while the coffee table in the living quarters had dog paws and so on. I somehow made my way all the way down to the last door of the dorm quarters. At the end of the hallway stood a rather normally shaped door. It had a handle with an odd looking face on it with the golden bulbous handle as it's nose. I turned it and walked in.

The room was very quiet looking with only one bed, one desk, and a wide window with sheer white curtains. Although it had been decorated as the default Heartslabyul style, I knew exactly how to decorate it to fit my own style! It needed some more blue, that was for sure. The bed looked rather comfy with the plush white comforter and fluffy white pillows. Wait... why is there a mysterious lump under the covers.

I crept closer, keeping my body tilted backwards in case something jumped out at me. I pulled back the covers as slowly as I could. Once I saw a dark grey furry- something, I pushed the covers back down. The lump moved. I jumped back and kept a hand over my mouth. I went back, pulling the covers back even more and let the sunlight reveal the mystery further. Oh.. oh no."MYAH?! Who woke me up!!" "WHAT THE??? GRIM????" Oh my Seven. What the bloody, ever loving hell.

[screamlet]

🌟 Can I please get some commentary on break up/break down? I absolutely adore the whole series. If you’re so inclined, I’d love to hear about why you decided to turn it from the tumblr series to a full fic. Thank you! 🌟

YES!!! thank you for asking!!! god i'm so sorry this might be really long because i have too many thoughts on how breakup/breakdown (the infidelity fic) evolved and ended. christ. this was a beast (neutral).

later: in retrospect, writing about "keeping things short" over here is.... hilarious. whatever, no shame (a little shame). about 800 words below:

so, i felt super enabled with every buck/omc drabble, lol. people's reblogs with "oh god this is terrible how could buck and tommy cheat on that nice boy i'm so sad" were fuel to the fire. and this was one of those stories where i really let outside opinions get in my head. infidelity is one of those things people have REALLY strong opinions about and i couldn't quiet those thoughts while writing. i'm sure on the ending now but it took a LOT of emotional work to get there. (and thank you for talking it through with me @rcmclachlan and @geddyqueer ❤️)

but i decided to spin it off into its own longer story because there was more i wanted to explore and i didn't want the whole 118 daily drabble series to be just this arc.

AND!!!!!!!!! i can't do wip's, so i already felt like it had dragged on too long. the biggest reason it spun off was because i couldn't cover everything in the daily drabble structure and i wanted it done sooner rather than like 70 days later.

AND THEN IT WOULDN'T END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i got in my own head about the ending. i wanted it to be bucktommy endgame from the beginning because i genuinely couldn't see danny taking buck back after everything he did: not just the actual physical act of cheating with tommy, but emotionally departing their relationship the moment tommy showed up again. make no mistake, buck was gone. and i couldn't imagine buck not at least trying to get tommy back if he had the chance, which he did when danny broke up with him.

originally i was trying to think, well how could i make this a miserable ending because Infidelity is Bad and Shouldn't They Be Punished and This is a Dark Premise How Could It Have a Happy Ending and It Should Hurt More, They Did a Bad Thing. then i realized that was some real cultural religious guilt nonsense and i stopped!!!!!!!!!!!!!! unfortunately my default mode isn't "contrarian edgelord"; i just want to write stuff that scratches the itch in my brain, and 95% of the time that itch is like "please just let them be happy."

what i eventually wanted from the ending was a buck and tommy who had found their way back to each other in an ironically honest way. yes, buck lied and cheated on his partner, but that got both of them to confront the fact that:

they weren't done with each other;

they had grown in their relationships with other people and they needed those other people in order to grow; and

they wanted each other enough to really fuck around with how they perceived themselves.

i don't think this tommy would have ever cheated, or thought of himself as a cheater. but for buck? alright, he's a cheater. and buck has cheated in canon, but in private he probably gave himself the excuse: "i was drunk and trapping taylor in a relationship was way worse than making out with lucy." but this time? yeah!! he cheated on his devoted, committed boyfriend and regretted hurting him, but he would have regretted not going back to tommy even more.

and ONE MORE THING!!!!!!!! cheating on danny wrecked buck's shit and the stable little life everyone in his life approved of. it forced buck to articulate things about himself and his relationship to his family that he didn't have to before with danny. danny was a really good, lovable guy, their relationship was what everyone wanted for buck, and that kind of outside approval was something he was so desperate for after things imploded with tommy. was tommy really so bad for him that they didn't want buck to call him???? and then danny was there, they loved danny, danny was loyal and loved him, fantastic. but tommy coming back made buck realize that danny was wonderful for the buck everyone wanted him to be, but not enough for himself. danny wasn't what buck really wanted, even if it would lose him the respect of his family. so he'd rather lose that, even if temporarily, to gain back this person who completes him.

"I need this one thing from you... this one thing. I need you to support me, especially in this thing with Tommy. Even if we change our minds and stay friends instead. Even if we're only back together five weeks or months, or if we get married and die holding hands fifty years from now."

now that 8b has started, this is a conversation canon buck has to have, too: where he has to articulate what he wants for his own life. he has to stop taking everyone else's advice and decide what he wants for himself and say it with words coming from his mouth. here, the thing that pushed him off the cliff was cheating on his boyfriend; in canon, it'll be something more appropriate for abc primetime. chopper crash or outbreak monkey, i guess we'll find out soon!

[camille-aurelie-deveraux]

Hi honey. Could I please request a Carlos story. Maybe the reader is working for the strategy team and is part of Carlos crew. Carlos is absolutely in love with her but reader is very obvious

Thank you ♥️

Head over heels on love

The Williams garage was a well-oiled machine, every team member moving with precision and purpose. Yn had been a part of this world since 2024, first as an eager intern, and now, a crucial member of the strategy team. She was good at her job—so good, in fact, that when Carlos joined the team at the start of the 2025 season, she was immediately assigned to his side.

At first, Carlos hadn’t thought much of it. She was bright, diligent, and clearly talented, but as time went on, he found himself watching her more and more. The way she smiled when Alex or Lily made a joke, the way her brows furrowed in concentration as she pored over strategy notes, the way she always had time to check in on the engineers even after long nights at the factory.

And then there was her laugh. That beautiful, musical laugh that had become his favorite sound in the entire paddock.

Carlos was a goner.

Yn walked into the paddock, balancing a laptop bag on one shoulder and a few notebooks in her arms. She barely made it two steps before Carlos appeared out of nowhere, plucking the books from her hands with ease.

“I’ve got these,” he said smoothly, giving her a warm smile.

Yn blinked. “Carlos, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he replied simply, adjusting the strap of her bag over his shoulder. “Where to?”

“My office,” she said, still a little surprised. “You really don’t have to carry everything, you know.”

He just smirked. “I like taking care of you.”

Yn huffed, shaking her head, but she didn’t argue. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like this. Over the past few months, he had developed a habit of showing up just when she needed help, whether it was carrying her things, bringing her coffee, or sneaking in snacks when she was too busy to eat.

She figured he was just being nice.

She was wrong.

Carlos made himself comfortable in her office while she worked on the next race’s strategy, going over tire degradation data and potential weather conditions. He placed a container of food on her desk, opened it, and took out a fork, spearing a piece of chicken before holding it up to her lips.

Yn blinked at him. “Carlos.”

“Eat,” he said, unwavering.

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go, and took the bite. He grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“You know, you don’t have to babysit me,” she said, swallowing. “I can feed myself.”

“But you don’t,” he pointed out, offering her another bite. “You get too caught up in work and forget. So, I remind you.”

She took the bite begrudgingly, but inside, her heart fluttered. Carlos was always like this with her—kind, attentive, affectionate. She just assumed it was his way of looking out for his team.

Carlos, meanwhile, was trying very hard not to be too obvious, though he suspected he was failing miserably. Every time she leaned in to take a bite from his fork, he had to resist the urge to kiss her. He wanted to—desperately—but he also wanted her to realize on her own how much he cared.

“Do you have everything you need for the race weekend?” he asked casually, watching her type out a few notes on her laptop.

“Yeah, I think so. Just need to finalize a few strategies and—”

Carlos reached over and shut her laptop. She turned to him with an incredulous look.

“Yn, it’s late,” he said, voice softer. “Go home. Sleep.”

She hesitated. “I just have a few more—”

Carlos shook his head, standing up and offering her his hand. “Come on. I’m walking you out.”

With a sigh, she relented, taking his hand as he pulled her to her feet. The moment she was standing, he pulled her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her temple before resting his chin on her head.

Yn laughed softly, used to his hugs by now, but still, every time he kissed her temple or cheek, she felt a warmth spread through her chest.

She just didn’t think too hard about why.

The night before race day, the Williams team was gathered in the motorhome, going over final preparations. Yn sat at her usual seat, scribbling notes as Carlos, his engineer, and the rest of the strategists discussed potential scenarios.

When the meeting ended, Carlos lingered behind as everyone else filtered out. He leaned against the table, watching Yn as she absentmindedly tapped her pen against her notebook.

“You always work too hard,” he murmured.

She smiled, glancing up at him. “You always tell me that.”

“Because it’s true.”

Before she could respond, he reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin. Her breath hitched slightly, and Carlos felt his heart hammer in his chest. He had been patient, waiting for her to see what was right in front of her, but he was reaching his limit.

“Yn,” he said softly.

She tilted her head slightly, looking at him curiously. “Yeah?”

His gaze flickered to her lips before meeting her eyes again. He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

But he held back. Just a little longer.

Instead, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling away. “Get some rest,” he whispered before walking out of the room, leaving Yn standing there, utterly clueless to the fact that she had completely stolen his heart.

🪼🦋🐳🪼🦋🐳🪼🦋🐳🪼🦋🐳🪼🦋🐳🪼🦋

Hello lovely people! Please enjoy this little piece. I would be very happy if you would send me some requests. See ya till next time!

-Cami🪼🦋🐳

[winchesterwild78]

When Eric met Mark

Master List

Characters: Mark Meachum x Reader 

Warnings: Slight angst, some fluff

A/N: Since Jensen has wrapped Countdown I felt the need to write a Mark Meachum one shot. Obviously I have no idea what the character is going to be like, but I do know he’s a cop. I can’t wait for the show to come out so I can write more of this character. Please enjoy. 

I do not own the rights to this character, but all work is my own. Please don’t take it.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

The California sun, a beacon of my escape, now felt like a taunt, a constant reminder of the warmth missing from my life. I'd come here for a fresh start, for the promise of golden days and a life unburdened by the past. Teaching filled me with a sense of purpose, my colleagues became my chosen family, and then, there was Mark.

Mark Meachum. He was a force of nature, tall and lean, with sandy blond hair that seemed to hold the sunlight captive. His green eyes, sharp and piercing, could see right through you, and his jawline, sculpted and strong, could cut glass. The connection was immediate, electric. We fell into each other's lives with a fervor that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then came the late-night calls, the disappearing acts, the unsettling feeling of being kept in the dark. My accusations of infidelity were met with a truth that was far more dangerous: he was a cop, going deep undercover. The fear was a cold, constricting grip around my heart. He tried to reassure me, but his words did little to quell the terror that gnawed at me.

The months that followed were a desolate landscape of loneliness. The quick phone calls, the fleeting texts, were mere whispers in the vast silence. When he did manage to slip back into my life, under the cover of darkness, our time together was a desperate, feverish dance. He’d hold me close, our bodies entwined, seeking solace and connection in the fleeting moments we shared. Then, before dawn, he’d vanish, leaving behind only the ghost of his presence.

My home, once a sanctuary, became a haunted space, filled with the phantom echoes of his touch, his laughter, his whispered promises. I felt hollow, adrift, a ghost in my own life.

The charity event I was invited to was a blur of forced smiles and polite conversation. Then, I saw him. Those green eyes, unmistakable, even under the guise of a sharp suit and a carefully constructed facade. He saw me, a flicker of recognition in his gaze, and then, he looked away.

My friend, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between us, steered me through the crowd, introducing me to a group of people, and then, to "Eric." I extended my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. "Nice to meet you," I managed, my voice a strained whisper. Our eyes met, a silent plea passing between us, a desperate longing that mirrored my own. I wanted him, I missed him.

Later, he pulled me aside, into the sanctuary of an empty room. The kiss was desperate, urgent, a raw expression of the longing that had consumed us both. His hands moved over my body with a familiar intensity, a desperate exploration in the stolen moments we had. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I miss you so much.” His voice was raw with emotion.

“You clean up nice yourself, “Eric”.” I giggled as his lips landed on mine again.

My hands on his chest, “How much longer do you think you’ll be gone?”

He ran his hands through his hair, “Honestly I don’t know. We’ve uncovered something bigger than what we thought. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I know this is hard on you. I just need to keep you safe. The people we are dealing with are bad, and if they knew about you then they’d come after you.”

I nodded, “I know. I just want you to come back safe to me.”

He nodded, crashed his lips onto mine again. The kiss was full of all the emotions we were feeling, loneliness, need, want, and something else. Something deeper that neither of us had said yet. 

“Goodbye for now, sweetheart.” His hand cupped my face as he placed a softer kiss on my lips. “I love you.”

My breath hitched, “I love you too.”

He smiled as he opened the door and looked back at me with a wink.

He walked away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me breathless, shaken, the ghost of his lips still burning on mine. The echo of our confession playing in my ears.

The sun still shone, but it felt like a cold, distant star, a cruel reminder of the warmth that was always just out of reach.

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[no1blacksapphirefan]

I am BEGGINGGGG anything with elder faerie!!! On my hands and knees for his tag to have more stuff!! Idc if it’s angst fluff platonic romantic or DMUT JUST LET ME HAVE MY MANNNN (also he NEEDS to come home or I’m gonna crash out)

Thanks for listening

I GOTCHU ANON. I hope I didn’t write him OOC. I actually got him recently too!!

Okok so hear me out (since you didn't say any au, I hope it's okay that it's not self-aware like my previous posts <33)

Idk what to call this AU or if it'll ever be an ongoing thought. But hear me out:

You accidentally wander into one of the witches home, you just wanted to explore. You loved exploring...even if it was a deep forest that spooked others. You were cold though so when you found a house, you gently knocked on the door. Hoping for some warmth until you set off to go back home.

When no one answered and your hands feeling like they'll fall off. You desperate knocked again, the door opening ajar...did they forget to lock the door? You didn't want to think of that, despite your better judgement you entered and were immediately hit with warmth. You'll just stay for a bit, warm up before heading home. You'd just have to be quick so you're not caught...

However as you were warming up, you heard the door opening again, scared and in a panic, an accident happened. You didn't know what happened, you didn't know if you wanted to know but god now your body was on the ground and in pain. Maybe you should've let the frost bit get you...

"...Are you alright?"

Came a voice, startled, you quickly whip around and pause. Looking up your eyes meet with pale blue ones (his eyes are pale blue right? Maybe I can't see colours well) His eyes showed concern. When you didn't respond he lent out a hand to help you up.

You snap out of your thoughts and take his hand, he gently pulls you up before seemingly checking for injuries.

"...Follow me, let's check with a healer to ensure your okay, if your legs hurt you can hold onto my arm"

Man was his voice nice...and he's pretty...okay wait no, you just met him. You nod slightly, carefully hugging his arm as he leads you to a small village. There you got checked up, they asked you questions but you didn't know how to answer them.

Okay well you did but as you were at the healers you realised you turned into a cookie. Nothing fun about learning that. You lied to them, saying you didn't remember much from your past. How could you tell them??

Apparently your injuries seemed pretty bad, not the worst thing possible but it was recommended to get rest. And as Elder Faerie learnt you apparently didn't have any family or friends to help take care of you? He offered to let you stay with him until you got better.

It was weird at first, he'd check in on you in the mornings before he left for his own work, some knights coming over to make sure you were okay. The first time you two had a proper conversation, like it wasn't stopped by perhaps Elder Faeries duties, was when you saw how tired he looked one day before he left.

He's done so much for you, helped you get better and made attempts to get to know you, help you with your "memory lost" he was so kind. Even the faerie knights say so, he truly was the best person to guard the tree. But with all this care he has for others, where was the care for him? You knew it was there but...

When Elder Faerie returned home that day, he smelled the cooking of food, wandering in the kitchen he watches you set the table, as you look up and spot him, you're startled a bit.

"S-sorry! Um...I made you dinner..."

"You didn't need too"

"I wanted too"

He paused, looking at the food once more before nodding and sitting down. He thanked you. That's the day the two of you truly got to know each other, you almost forgot you were pretending to now have memories of your past as you talked about previous moments in your life.

Though it seemed like he didn't care, he was enjoying his time with you. That wouldn't be the first occurrence the two of you had where you cared for him. On some days you really urged him to take a day off, even managing to convince some of the knights to fill in. You believed he was overworking himself.

You started visiting him, bringing lunches to ensure he was eating and of course you'd bring some for the other knights. Watching you smile and laugh with other faerie knights stirred something in Elder Faerie one day. He couldn't describe it.

It struck him one day when he agreed to watch the stars with you. You happily looked at the sky and pointed out silly constellations.

"Could you think of anything more pretty than stars?"

"I believe so"

It took him awhile to realise he was staring at you when he said that, he coughed and looked away. Avoiding your own stare and small blush.

Even after so long, after you healed. After he said you're free to go back to your own life, it was evident between the two of you that the home you wanted was with him. And he too also didn't want you to go.

His home was yours now, you had molded yourself into his life and he didn't complain. He wouldn't, if anything he thanked whatever deity was out there that made this happen. Be it fate or just a coincidence that he found you? It didn't matter.

What mattered to him was your safety, he cared about you more than he ever thought he would. You cared about him, making sure he was properly caring for himself in return. And even though the two of you never said it, other knights were already talking about your loving relationship. At this point, you're already a married couple even without the official ceremony.

.

.

.

Until beast yeast

Okok so Im actually not to sure how this turned out, I have a love hate relationship with this piece I am so sorry if it isn't good anon </3 I hope I did Elder Faerie justice for you (Might've rambled too much on this ngl)

[dragonagegayz]

WIP WORD GAME

@soeasilyswayed tagged me to do one of these and I love this game so yuh I'm doing another! THANK YOU FOR THE TAG <3333

I'm gonna steal their word MISCREANT and show off some more of my Bas personal like excerpts cause I think it is cooking (and is the only thing I have a lot written for lol)

I'm tagging @alystrin03 and totally not cause I want to know what ur cooking with right now as I wait in anticipation with my cats and your word is CONTROL (no pressure btw) and if I didn't tag you, you should join any way cause I'm desperate for your works like an ex waiting at your door desperate for just one word

Anywho, Bas De Riva's terrible past, everybody!

I already cannot see well with the Mask I am forced to wear as Sarrebas, the small holes practically blind me which I suppose is what the Qun wants of one like me. The rain also catches in the little holes, making it even harder to see, the combination of it all leaves me blind. I look up to the clouds, if my mouth weren’t sewn shut I would have yelled to the clouds for being here, for making my life hard, though as I look up I can barely see a light spot in the clouds, the sun. Maybe it will shine so at least I can see again.

I hear an angry unforgiving voice that I know all too well. I looked over to where it came from, my ears being trained now to pinpoint the locations of things since I was masked those years ago. I needn’t try to squint to know who it is, I, unfortunately, know who screams my name. Even from where I stood, unseeing as I was, I could tell he was annoyed, it was in the tone in his authoritarian voice, the hint of displeasure and rasp to it that tipped me off.

I wish to Say, but instead, I do not speak, I simply follow where the voice is speaking, and hear the sounds of his steps move when I am near, I find them in the low crowd from the distinct heaviness to them. He puts much pressure on his heel, and heavy steps with his entire body to emphasize power and dominance. Arvaard do this often, many of them I have come in contact with are power-hungry and play the high and mighty part. They are the keepers of the Sarrebas, those dangerous things, how could they not the proud? It is what the Qun has taught them after all.

The tavern is dark, it has to be in Case it ever was to be discovered by the leaders of the Qun, the Araavards and Antam here could run without the risk of being seen by them. They were after all not supposed to be taking in these hideous displays of rule-breaking, at least not while on duty. Whatever they do in their free time the Qun does not care but now we are working, we should only be thinking of the things to do that would give advantage to our way of life.

Yet, here we are, in the large Tavern hidden in the streets of the city we are stopped in (I am not allowed to know the name) where the Rickety chandler swings in time to the music softly played under all the loud voices.

My Arvaard shuffles me to a smaller room to the side, I flinch at his touch but he only huffs in my ear, as if I am overreacting to this skin-to-skin contact. I am not to be touched, for I am a dangerous thing it would be foolish for someone to lay their lands on me. My skin burns where his hands are, it hurts in a way I need him to stop but I can say nothing, so I must Endure.

While I cannot see, I can feel the eyes on me as I stand in the doorway, trying to get my eyes to Adjust to the darkness so I can at least see some of what it is in the room, get an idea of how many others stand with me. I know I am scary even to my fellow mages, I am one with my mouth sewn, they assume I am a bad influence even amgonst my own they find me suspicious, they find me dangerous.

Which I suppose is funny, seeing as even before I was Saarebas, I Never did speak.

Yet I am seen as a Threat, as a danger with my mouth closed tight with thread. I suppose I understand for when I see another like me I get tense, my breath hitches and I do what I can to not look at them. They have fought against the Qun, they have been punished for a reason so I fear them, I may struggle with being qunari but I know it is to keep me safe. If it were not for my bindings, for the leash I was supposed to be held close to, I could become possessed and I would hurt people. People who would never deserve such a fate. So I understand the name Sarrebas for my kind, I am a dangerous thing.