#and the more light hearted stuff like this

[prettynpinkputhy]

Boyfriend Rafayel 🎨

WarningMDNI⚠️: Language, sexual themes, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding etc

🐠Synopsis: your boyfriend Rafayel loves to tease you.

Like, comment and share for more lads content🎀

“You’re very cute like this.” Rafayel’s warm breath fans your cheek as he pins you to the mattress. He hovers over you, still buried to the hilt inside your swollen drooling heat. You’d just finished one round and he couldn’t bring himself to pull out because it “felt like home”. His hips swirl, churning your now mixed fluids inside you. He smirks as he sees a faint rosy blush tint your nose.

“Don’t tease me.” You pout. His slender delicate fingers press into your side, sliding up your body slowly till they cup your bare tit. He chuckles against your neck, the sound vibrating in your ear like a sweet melody.

“You make it hard not too, Angel fish” his purple strands tickle your forehead as he props up on his arms above you. Your eyes are drawn to the way his muscles tense as he holds this position with ease. Despite being an artist his body was defined and chiseled. From his broad shoulder to the light six pack indented against your stomach. “You’re checking me out? If you do that I might get excited again.” He pushes into you with a lazy thrust.

You whine, linking your fingers around his neck and legs around his waist. Your hips wiggle, soaked pussy fluttering around his semi-hard length. You feel it twitch at your subtle movements. A soft breathy moan escapes rafayels lips.

“You’re not playing fair, you know.” He shifts to lock his arms under your knees, using his weight to press into you fully. His growing cock drags against the slick gummy walls of your tight channel as he withdrawals to the tip. Even after being fucked once, you were still like a vice around his sensitive dick. He pulses his pelvis back and forth, fucking your entrance with his thick mushroomed head. Your eager needy hole clamps desperately trying to pull his teasing cock back in.

“If you want it that badly, I’ll be nice.” With a grunt he slams back inside with punishing pressure. You gasp and scratch at the smooth skin of his back.

“Rafa, fuck s’deep I can’t!” You cry out.

His breath huffs out in small labored pants as he pistons into your squelching hot cavern. He growls and sits up on his knees. His hard strokes never decelerate as he switches positions. Sweat sticks his hair to his forehead and trails down his neck as he ruts into you like his only purpose in life is to knock you up.

“Can’t hold back, sorry cutie. Fuck, feels too good” the veins in his hands pop as he rocks your body back and forth on his painfully hard cock. He’s light headed as his heart pumps twice as fast. His violet eyes are low with lust as he watches your body ripple beneath him with every hard thrust of his hips. You cover your face in embarrassment as he gropes every part of you he can get his hands on.

“S-stop this is too embarrassing Rafa.” You whimper—Your hands going up to cover your face. He grabs your wrist firmly and yanks them away.

“I want to see all the pretty faces you make. Your body is a work of art, don’t hide it from me.” He drops your legs to palm at your bouncing breast. His fingertips flick and tug on the hard tight peaks, making your eyes roll back.

“I’m feeling inspired for a new painting. I love having my own personal muse to stuff full of my cock.” His engorged cock head beats into the spongy sensitive spot deep inside your battered pussy. Your head falls back into the pillows as you half sob with pleasure. “No not there! We have to stop…I-I feel like I’m gonna pee!-“ he doesn’t stop. Instead he spreads your creamy folds and rubs tight fast circles around your stiff clit.

Your thighs quake as he impales you over and over on his rock solid manhood, ogling at the sight of your pussy icing his cock like the sweetest pastry. His pupils dilate as he watches the faces you make, knowing he’s the only one that can make you feel this way.

“Don’t hold back, let it go baby.” He coos, redoubling his efforts. As if on command your pussy squirt clear milky fluid like a geyser, soaking the bed and sheets below. The hot shower of your arousal undoes Rafayel and his cock explodes thick hot jets of semen directly into your womb. His face scrunches, body tenses with the force of his release—he can’t utter a word, only strained groans and pants fall from his lips. His head hangs in exhaustion, a thin sheen of sweat on his ivory skin.

“Round three?” He offers breathlessly, a cheeky smirk tugged to his lips.

[chxnsgirl]

창빈 ─── let me take care of you

♡ pairing ៸៸ gym trainer!changbin x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ vanilla , praise kink (if u really really squint), oral (f. rec) , shower sex , there's also a link hidden in the fic c; ♡ synopsis ៸៸ literally no plot just smut a/n ๑ here's a lil bini fic since someone requested this ! [ 3.2k words ] ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

another day, another gym session.

except this wasn’t just any gym session—it was with changbin, your personal trainer, and quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever met. you first crossed paths a few months ago when you decided it was time to pull yourself out of the post-breakup slump and hit the gym again. changbin had been scanning for potential clients when he noticed you, and from that moment, your fitness journey took an unexpected turn.

from the start, you found him absolutely captivating. his physique was the stuff of admiration—a flawlessly sculpted body that practically exuded strength and confidence. but it wasn’t just his physique; his face was just as alluring. full lips, a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room—it all worked together to make your heart skip a beat.

still, it was more than just his looks that drew you in. changbin’s kindness and patience stood out. he truly understood the challenges you faced, encouraging you every step of the way with unwavering support. and given your single status and lack of intimate company for months, he was the only person who had come to know your body as well as you did—albeit in a very different way.

but lately, things had begun to shift. each training session seemed to carry a weight that went beyond fitness. the tension between you had been growing steadily, layer by layer. subtle touches lingered a second too long. his warm, tender smiles felt more personal. and the compliments—sweet, sincere, and unexpectedly intimate—hung in the air like a charged whisper, leaving you wondering where this might lead.

you had just wrapped up a grueling workout and were now easing into your stretches with changbin by your side. today’s session had been particularly intense, focusing heavily on lifting, and you’d pushed yourself harder than ever. the ache in your muscles was proof of your effort, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. clearly, changbin was proud of you too.

“you did great today,” he praised, his voice warm and encouraging.

he knelt beside you, helping guide your leg toward your abdomen as you stretched. his touch was firm but careful, his movements precise, yet you could sense the restraint in him. his eyes flicked to your form briefly, but he quickly refocused, clearly trying to remain professional. it wasn’t easy, though, considering the snug spandex leggings that clung to every curve of your lower half and the sports bra that, while functional, accentuated your breasts, which were pressed against the fabric with every deep inhale you took.

“thanks,” you replied breathlessly, switching to your other leg. changbin shifted to adjust his position, his pelvis hovering just above your ass as you lay flat on the mat. the closeness of his body, combined with the strength in his arms as he pressed your leg toward your torso, sent a wave of heat surging through you.

it settled deep in your core, and you fought to push the feeling away. determined not to let your thoughts spiral, you turned your head and focused your gaze anywhere but on him, desperately trying to ignore the way his touch and attention was making you feel.

as changbin adjusted his position, his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. his hands were warm and strong, holding your leg securely as he leaned in to guide your stretch. you could feel the tension in the air thickening, subtle but undeniable. the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of your workout, making your senses hyperaware of his proximity.

“relax into it,” changbin murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. his breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat coursing through you.

you exhaled slowly, trying to follow his instruction, but the pressure of his hands and the way his body was aligned with yours made it difficult to focus. as your muscles stretched and lengthened under his guidance, your thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn’t.

his hands moved slightly, adjusting the angle of your leg. the contact was innocent enough, yet it sent a spark straight to your core. his thumbs pressed gently into your thigh, massaging the tension there, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hum that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked, his tone low and careful, though there was a hint of something else in it—a slight rasp that betrayed his own composure.

“y-yeah,” you managed to reply, your voice unsteady.

but changbin didn’t move away. instead, his gaze flickered down to you, his dark eyes studying your face. “you’re holding tension here,” he said, his hands sliding down slightly to work at the tight muscles in your hips. the motion was slow, deliberate, and his fingers pressed firmly yet gently, igniting a slow burn deep within you.

your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. his face was so close now, his lips parted slightly as though he was about to say something more. but no words came. instead, the moment seemed to stretch endlessly between you, the space between your bodies almost nonexistent.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, the firmness of his hands, the way his body hovered just above yours. and then, as though caught in some invisible pull, your eyes locked. the air crackled with unspoken desire, and suddenly, all the restraint from earlier seemed to crumble.

changbin’s hands stilled against your body, and you felt his grip tighten slightly, as if grounding himself. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he glanced away for a moment, exhaling deeply. “i-i don’t… we shouldn’t…” he began, his voice low and uneven, though it lacked conviction.

you reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. you leaned up slightly, your body arching toward him, driven by a pull you could no longer resist. “i don’t mind, if you don’t.”

and in an instant, you two were in the back of the gym, messily making out inside the employee showers. you had the curtain covering you both as you kissed each other, as well as the water running so nobody could hear the sinful noises of you two claiming each other.

the water was cascading down both of your bodies, getting your workout attire drenched. changbin let out a moan as he pressed you against the tile wall, grinding his length against your thigh.

you eagerly tugged his shirt off, wanting to see more of him.

in the haze of passion, your hands trembled slightly as you pulled changbin’s drenched shirt over his head, tossing it onto the wet floor without a second thought. the sight of his bare torso under the dim, steamy light took your breath away—every muscle, every defined line glistening under the cascade of water.

your hands roamed his chest, fingers tracing his abdomen before sliding up to his broad shoulders. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and he shuddered as your nails lightly grazed him.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathy and full of awe.

changbin’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more fervent. his hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling your soaked body flush against his. you gasped into his mouth as the rough texture of the tile wall contrasted with the heat of his touch. his hips pressed into you, and the friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through your core.

he broke the kiss momentarily, his forehead resting against yours as his hands slid up, fingers brushing over the fabric of your sports bra. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky but tinged with care.

you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “i’ve never been more sure,” you whispered, pulling him back into a searing kiss.

his hands moved with purpose, tugging at the hem of your sports bra. you raised your arms, helping him remove it, and the cool air of the shower hit your exposed skin before the warmth of his hands replaced it. his palms cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from your lips.

the steam swirled around you both, cloaking the scene in a veil of intimacy as changbin’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone. the sound of water hitting the tiles mingled with your quiet moans and his deep groans, creating a symphony of passion that seemed to echo in the small space.

your fingers fumbled with the waistband of his shorts, eager to feel more of him. he let out a shaky breath as you pushed them down, your touch exploring the contours of his hips and thighs. you could see the outline of his thick, hard cock through his briefs, and your core ached so intensely you could feel a heartbeat between your legs.

the tension that had built between you for weeks was now unraveling, every kiss, every touch, bringing you closer to a point of no return.

changbin’s hands slid down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed against you. his breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “then show me,” you whispered, and with that, he captured your mouth again, his fingers curling under your leggings and yanking them down as well as your panties without hesitation.

you blushed, feeling bare and exposed in front of him. it had been a long time since you had been bare before a man, and changbin could sense your anxiety. “you look fucking gorgeous,” he growled, yanking them off your legs fully before kneeling in front of you and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. you responded with a tiny gasp, realizing what he was preparing to do. changbin's dark eyes locked with yours as he knelt before you, the water cascading over his sculpted frame. his hands slid up your thighs, strong yet gentle, as if reassuring you of how much he wanted this—wanted you. the heat of his breath contrasted with the cool tile against your back, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“you don’t have to be nervous,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing but laced with hunger. “let me take care of you.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. the sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and desire that left you trembling. his lips moved slowly, trailing upward, each kiss stoking the fire coursing through your body.

when his mouth finally reached your core, your breath hitched. his tongue was warm and deliberate, exploring you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to drive you wild. your hand flew to his hair, gripping the wet strands as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips.

he moaned against your cunt, his tongue swirling and flicking over your sensitive flesh with relentless determination. the wet sounds of his mouth on your skin were just barely audible, driving you to new heights of pleasure. he savored every inch of you, the scent and taste that he had craved for so long.

a sharp cry escaped your lips as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling and lapping at it with fervent desire. his face was buried between your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he devoured you without restraint. your body arched and quivered under his skilled touch, each wave of pleasure building higher and higher until it consumed you completely.

“bin…” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

he growled in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. his grip on your leg tightened as he pulled you closer, his mouth working you with an intensity that made your toes curl. the sensations were overwhelming, the combination of his touch, the warmth of the water, and the way his tongue moved against you unraveling you completely.

your free hand pressed against the tile, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use. the tension building in your core was too much, too fast. “oh my god,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

changbin glanced up at you briefly, his eyes smoldering with desire as he watched you come undone above him. his lips curved into a small, cocky smile before he doubled down, his tongue and lips moving with a precision that left you breathless.

your body arched involuntarily, the sensations overwhelming as the pleasure built to a crescendo. your grip on his hair tightened, and with one final, broken cry of his name, the tension snapped, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. your legs trembled, and the one leg you were using to keep yourself standing in the shower was barely holding you upright.

as you came down from the high, your chest heaved, and your legs trembled. changbin stood slowly, his hands steadying you as he cupped your face and kissed you deeply, letting you taste the passion you’d just shared.

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and breathless, as if he’d been just as affected by the moment as you were. you two made out again, lost in the shared taste of each other, until you broke it. “fuck me,” you panted, your voice soft and breathy.

“please, fuck me.”

changbin’s breath hitched at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if grounding himself. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with desire yet softened by a hint of hesitation. “you want it?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the water.

you nodded, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “please, changbin.”

something in him shifted, the tension and restraint he’d been holding onto dissolving. his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that left no room for doubt. his kiss was fervent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your body, every touch igniting a new wave of heat.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he freed his thick, pulsating cock from its confines. it was girthy and heavy, throbbing with an almost painful urgency that sent shivers down your spine. just looking at it made you nervous for what was to come, but also filled you with a primal desire you couldn't deny. the veins along its length were prominent and promising. you could feel the heat radiating off of it, making your own body flush with anticipation.

with a fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. the water cascaded over both of you, amplifying the intensity of every sensation. you could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your core, and the anticipation made you gasp.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses as his hands gripped your thighs to steady you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with reverence and need.

“bin…” you whispered, your fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly as your hips rolled against him, seeking more.

he groaned at the friction of his cock grinding between your slick lips, the sound deep and guttural, as he adjusted his position.

one hand slipped between you, and you shivered as his fingers teased your entrance, his touch deliberate and confident. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“then do it,” you urged, your voice trembling with need. “i’m yours.”

his gaze locked with yours for a fleeting moment, the intensity in his eyes sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. slowly, he entered you, the stretch and fullness drawing a gasp from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

his thick length filled every inch of you as he pushed deeper and deeper. the weight of him pressed against your skin, the sensation almost overwhelming but also intoxicating. his fat cock stretched you to your limits, each movement sending electrifying sensations coursing through your body. you could feel every ridge and vein as he plunged into you, claiming you completely.

“fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.“you feel incredible.” he moaned breathlessly, his brows knitted together as he fought the urge to cum right away.

“so do you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips before rolling your hips against him. the movement sent a shiver through him, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building in intensity.

lost in the moment and completely overtaken by his desire, changbin's grip on your hips tightened as he began to lift you effortlessly, moving your body up and down on his cock with a strength that made you feel weightless. his motions were powerful and unrelenting, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body as if he was claiming every inch of you.

the sounds echoing in the steamy shower were shamelessly erotic���your bodies colliding with wet, rhythmic slaps, punctuated by the increasingly loud moans spilling from your lips. it was such a stark contrast to the tentative quiet you’d both maintained when you first slipped into the shower, and yet now, the tension between you had unraveled into something raw and untamed.

you couldn’t help but glance down at him, the sight alone making your head spin. the way his strong arms supported you, his muscles flexing with each movement, and the determined, almost primal look on his face as he drove into you—it was intoxicating. the intensity of it all made your walls flutter around him involuntarily, earning a deep groan from his lips that only fueled your desire further.

your back arched against the tiles, the sensation overwhelming as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

your body tensed as his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot with relentless force, causing a deep pit to form in your stomach and your clit to pulse uncontrollably. the pleasure was overwhelming, almost bordering on pain, but you couldn’t help but crave more of his intense thrusts. after a few more thrusts, you were trembling, your core fluttering with impending release.

“changbin… i’m so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension in your body built to its peak.

“me too,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours as his movements grew faster, more erratic.

with one final thrust, the tension snapped, and you cried out his name as the pleasure consumed you, your body trembling in his arms. he followed moments later, his groan vibrating against your neck as he held you tightly, riding the waves of ecstasy together.

the water continued to cascade over you both as you clung to each other, your breaths mingling in the steamy air. changbin pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice warm and tender as he whispered, “i’ve waited so long for this,”

you smiled, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as you replied, “so have i.” and as the water continued to fall around you, you knew this was for sure the start of something between you two.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[chem1cali]

THE GHOST OF YOU

masterlist

ghost!theodore nott x slytherin!reader

synopsis: returning to hogwarts after the war without your lover was the greatest pain you'd ever felt, but maybe he wasn't as gone as you thought...

warnings: HEAVY angst, some fluff but it's very sad fluff, definitely mostly angst, mentions of death and murder, references to suicidal thoughts

word count: 1.9k

a/n: this one broke my heart to write, yall. like ACTUALLY broke my heart. i'm considering making it a series, maybe with a slightly happier part two, so let me know if you'd be interested or if you have any ghost!theo ideas for me!

It was strange how subdued the halls of Hogwarts were. Just a year ago, the castle was swarming with chattering and giggling students, and now the few people you walked past had their mouths shut and their heads bowed. The war had that effect on everyone.

It had been a few days since the start of your eighth year, and each day seemed more heartbreaking than the one prior. Out of your slytherin friends, only Blaise had chosen to join you for the optional eighth year to make up for the chaos that was your seventh. You were thankful for his presence and support, but with each passing day, your heart grew heavier, and the desire to leave grew stronger.

Every room, every courtyard, every classroom, sent you spiralling through memories of him.

Theodore Nott. Your best friend since you were children, your confidante, and more recently, your boyfriend.

And also the boy who had stepped in front of a killing curse to save your life. Guilt swarmed through your gut as flashbacks of that day assaulted your mind.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called behind you. Standing a few feet away from you, Bellatrix Lestrange cackled, her mouth twisted in a terrifying grin.

“Itty bitty Notty boy.” She crooned. “Come to save his little damsel in distress.”

“Stay out of this, Theo.” you warned, your hand shaking as it gripped tightly onto your wand. “I’ve got this.”

Bellatrix kept her own wand trained on you, just as yours was on her. It was a standoff, each of you waiting for that momentary lapse in concentration to strike. From the corner of your eye, you could see Theo moving closer, and you glanced away from Bellatrix to look at him, just for a moment.

That moment cost you, and Bellatrix took full advantage of your brief distraction.

“Avada Kedavra!” She called, and a green light erupted from the tip of her wand. You stood in shock for what felt like years, before a sudden force knocked you to the ground so hard that your vision blurred.

This was it. You thought blearily. This was death.

But death didn't come. Your vision cleared, and you became vaguely aware of Bellatrix’s laughing growing further and further away. You looked up from your prone position to see her shadow disappearing down the hall. How were you still alive?

You glanced around, before noticing a still figure on the floor. Your heart dropped.

“No.” You whispered, horror flooding you as you scrambled to the body on the floor. “No no no!”

You pulled on his shoulder to tip him onto his back, and a choked sob left your mouth. “Theo!” You gasped, shaking him with both hands. “Wake up! Wake up, damnit!”

But his body was still… unmoving.

A sob wracked through you, and you fell against a nearby column as the image seared itself into your mind. It was the stuff of nightmares, and it was your living hell. Every night, you woke screaming, with the sight of Theo’s lifeless body engrained in your mind.

“Y/N?” Blaine's deep baritone came from behind you. “Hey, it's okay. You’re okay.”

His hands brushed over your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you. After a few minutes, you choked back your tears and straightened your shoulders.

“I’m fine.” You said, your voice still shaking.

Blaise peered at you, his eyes betraying his concern. “Are you sure? You know the Ministry has set up counselling for those affected by the war, maybe you should-”

“I said I’m fine.” You protested, shrugging off his hold. “I just need to get some supper and go to bed.”

Blaise sighed, obviously disapproving of your claim, but smart enough not to push you further.

“Okay.” He conceded, wrapping his arm back around your shoulders. “Let's get you some food.”

You leaned into his warmth and let him lead you to the great hall. The once packed tables were now silent and sparse, the few remaining students choosing to sit in silence while they picked at their food.

You took a seat at your usual spot, spooning pumpkin soup into your bowl and swirling it around distractedly. A flash of brown curls to your left sent your spoon clattering into the bowl, and your head whipped so fast you swore you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

Only an empty seat greeted you, and tears filled your eyes. You could have sworn, just for a second, that he had been beside you.

You ate as quickly as you could, the food tasting like ash in your mouth, ignoring Blaise's concerned looks as you shovelled mouthful after mouthful into your mouth.

“I’m going to bed.” You mumbled, once your bowl was emptied.

“Do you want me to walk you down?” Blaise questioned, his own meal half-finished.

You shook your head. “No. I… I need to be alone.”

He stared at you for a moment, seeming to deliberate.

“Okay.” He said finally. “Be safe, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

You nodded, lifting your hand in a half-hearted wave as you stood up from your seat.

The walk down to the dungeons was quiet, the only sound being your echoing footsteps through the halls. The common room was empty when you finally stepped through the threshold, the flickering fire the only semblance of life in the area.

You didn't pause, walking to the hall that held your dorm room. You shrugged off your robes the second you walked through the door, distracting yourself with putting away various pieces of clutter that littered your floor.

On your bedside table, a picture frame caught your eye. It was an image of you and Theo that he had gotten you for your birthday last year, enchanted to portray a moving scene of you leaping into his arms. You picked up the frame, smiling sadly at the photo. You would give anything to be in his arms again.

“We looked so happy there, didn't we?”

The frame fell to the floor, the glass covering shattering as you froze, your heart thundering wildly in your chest.

“Shit, tesoro. I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

You spun around, and there he was. Your throat dried up, and all you could do was stare.

“Theo?” You breathed, barely able to comprehend what was happening. His soft, brown curls fell over his forehead as he tilted his head, a tentative smile on his face. He was wearing the same outfit as the day that he…

You leapt forward, your eyes squeezing shut as you reached to pull him into your arms.

Only for your fingers to close around air. You stumbled, opening your eyes as you spun around in confusion.

He was still there, but the faint smile had turned to a frown. You reached for his hand, unsure of what was happening, only for your fingers to drift straight through his skin.

You blinked, really focusing on him, and it was then you noticed that he didn't seem to be all there. His outline was slightly blurred against the backdrop of your room, and he seemed to be somewhat transparent.

“What…” you breathed. “What is happening? Am I going insane?”

Theo smiled sadly, shaking his head. “Not insane, baby. I’ve been trying to reach you since you came back.”

“You're here?” You sniffle. “You’re really here? I could've sworn I watched you…” You couldn't finish the sentence.

“You did.” He confirmed, and your heart broke all over again. You really were going insane, conjuring up images of your lost love just to cope with the pain.

“But I’m still here, really here, I swear.” He continued, fidgeting with his fingers. “Just… not alive.”

You shook your head. “I don't… I don't understand.”

He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal a black burn mark on his upper chest. “This is where the curse hit me, it seems that my ghost has preserved the exact way my body was when I died.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Ghost?” You breathe. “You’re… you're a ghost?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It's been difficult trying to push through the veil to get to you, I’ve tried so many times. I got close earlier tonight at dinner, but it slipped away from me so quickly.” he frowned. “Even now, I can feel it starting to slip.”

Disappointment and joy battled ferociously in your mind. “You’re really dead, then?” Your voice cracked.

He nodded. “I am.”

Without knowing exactly how, or why, anger took over you, and words spewed out before you could stop them. “Why the fuck did you jump in front of me, Theo?” You exclaimed.

He held his hands up. “You were going to die, cara mia. I couldn't stand there and do nothing!”

You wished you could touch him. You wished you could punch him, hit him, hug him… kiss him.

You just wished you could feel his skin against yours again.

“I can’t do this.” You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I can't do this without you.”

“You can.” Theo said firmly. “And you will. And I’ll be here as much as I can to help you get through it, I swear.”

You stared at him through your tear-blurred vision. The urge to be in his arms was overwhelming, and it was a bittersweet kind of torture being able to see him and speak to him, but never touch him. You walked around him, shaking, and fell onto your bed, drawing your knees up to your chest. He moved after you, taking a seat beside you. You glanced at him, confused.

“How are you sitting on my bed?” You asked softly. “If you're a ghost?”

“I’m not, really.” He replied. “I’m kind of… hovering myself just above your bed to make it look like I’m sitting. I can’t feel your bed, or you, or anything really.”

The desperate sadness in his voice made your eyes fill with tears again. “I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “It's my fault you're dead. God, I’m so beyond sorry.”

He shook his head vehemently. “It’s not your fault, never your fault, tesoro. I made my choice, and I chose to sacrifice myself so that the person I love most would be able to live their life.”

“I don't want to live without you.” You admit quietly, looking down at your hands.

“Don’t say that.” The harshness in his voice made you blink and look up at him. His face was twisted into an anguished, almost terrified expression. “Promise me you won't ever say that again. I need you to live, Y/N. For me, please.”

You nodded, even if you didn't truly believe it, anything to get that tortured expression off his face. He relaxed a little, and flickered in and out of view.

“Shit.” He cursed. “I’m fading out. The veil is pushing me back, I can’t stay for much longer.”

You jolted, panic filling you. “No, wait! You can't leave me, not again, Theo!”

He flickered again, this time his form was barely visible as he faded more and more with each passing second.

“I’m sorry.” Even his voice had faded, becoming muffled. “But I will be back. I swear to you. I’ll keep coming back for you, as long as you need me.”

“I'll always need you!” You sobbed, your fingers desperately clenching around the air where his hand should be.

His smile was barely visible. “I love you, Y/N, never forget that.”

“I love you too.” You weeped. “Please stay.”

But with a final flicker, he was finally gone from view.

And you were alone again.

[sirhamburrger]

come over again? (choso x reader drabble) -> link to original ask courtesy of kai’s cat café! - 150 followers event

café menu || order progress asks closed.

yuji’s just gone to bed, and you sit on the sofa in the living room, staring blankly into space. it’s the third time this week you’ve been over to choso’s place to play video games with his kid brother, and it’s only wednesday. 

his invitations are always cordial. yuji wants to play rocket league with you again, will you come? and yuji’s been asking if you’re free tomorrow because he doesn’t want to play this new horror game alone. 

they’re cordial, and they’re always about yuji. never about himself. 

which is why you’ve resorted to staying delusional over the smoking hot vice-captain of your uni’s baseball team, staring at him from the other side of the lecture hall as professor ieiri rambles on about the latest biochemistry topics, and cheering for him at his games.

sad, really, but it's as close to him as you'll ever get.

you see the inky-black space buns before the rest of him as he emerges from under the table in the kitchen, fork in hand. your eyes meet, and he gives you a small smile, awkward. 

“dropped my fork,” he says lamely, as if you don’t already know.

you smile back, wrapping your arms around yourself. his gaze follows your actions, and you see a shift in his expression.

“should i walk you home?”

you frown. (he’s never volunteered to do this before.) “will yuji be okay by himself?”

“sukuna’s coming back in ten minutes, so-” sukuna being the brothers’ intimidating uncle, who you know will take good care of yuji- “it’s no big deal, really.”

and so you find yourself walking side by side with choso down the quiet, lamp-lit streets. the cool night air nips at your cheeks, but his presence beside you keeps you warm, even as your heart pounds louder with every step.

he doesn’t say much at first. he’s always been more comfortable in silence, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his baseball team hoodie, his gaze flickering from the ground to the occasional passing car. 

but tonight, there’s something different about the way he carries himself - tense, like he’s bracing for something. finally, he clears his throat, breaking the stillness. 

“you come by a lot.”  

your heart skips, unsure where this is going. you glance up at him, but his gaze is fixed straight ahead, avoiding yours. 

“i mean, yuji likes having you over. and i -” he stops, faltering, and you see his shoulders stiffen. “i like having you over too.”  

the words feel heavy in the air, tentative and raw. you can’t help the small, surprised laugh that escapes you, not out of mockery but relief. 

“i like coming over,” you admit softly. “it’s nice, being there with yuji. and you.”  

choso nods, still avoiding your gaze. “good. that’s… good.”  

but then he stops walking altogether, and you nearly stumble before turning to face him. he looks down at you, the faint light of a streetlamp casting shadows over his sharp features. his hands are trembling slightly, and he pulls them from his pockets, clenching them into loose fists.  

“i’ve been trying to say this for a while,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. “i’m not good at this. but… i want you to know that i don’t ask you over just because yuji makes me.”  

your breath catches. 

“choso-”  

“i ask you to come over because i want to see you,” he blurts, his words tumbling out in a rush now, like he’s afraid he’ll lose the courage to say them if he stops. “i want to spend time with you. and i know i’m not - gosh, i’m really not good at this stuff, but i -”

he takes a shaky breath.

“i like you. a lot. more than i probably should.”  

the silence stretches between you, fragile and charged. his dark eyes finally meet yours, and you can see the vulnerability etched into his expression.  

for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your chest tightening with the weight of his words. then, slowly, you reach out, your fingers brushing against his. his hand stiffens beneath your touch, but he doesn’t pull away.  

“i like you too,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “more than i probably should.”  

his eyes widen, and for a heartbeat, he looks like he doesn’t quite believe you. but then his lips twitch into a small smile, and you see the tension in his shoulders ease.  

“really?” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.  

“really,” you confirm, squeezing his hand gently.  

and for the first time since you’ve met him, choso lets out a soft, breathy laugh - relieved, and maybe a little amazed. the sound makes your heart soar. more than the pure joy on his face after he wins a game, or the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he takes notes in class.

“i guess,” he says almost bashfully, his fingers curling around yours, “i don’t have to ask yuji to be my excuse anymore.”

end(?)

bonus:

“so yuji doesn’t actually think i’m a master at gta??” “no, no, he does! i swear, he did genuinely want you to come over at the beginning-“

end.

© sirhamburrger || [general m.list]

[batmanlovesnirvana]

| BATTINSON HEADCANONS ! 🦇

A/N : old post from two years ago, but I’ve changed and added a few things since then

my boy is awkward as hell, but somehow, not at all—it really just depends on who he’s with and the vibe of the moment

sassy when he feels like it, but most of the time? he’s a total nonverbal enigma—half the time, all you’re getting are grunts and the occasional raised eyebrow

specially if you’re still just a stranger to him, or even just a friend

he’s ridiculously stubborn—dug-in-heels, won’t-budge-an-inch stubborn. and, of course, he inherited every ounce of it from his darling mama...

had a Star Wars phase when he was 9

he could’ve talked to you all day back then if you’d asked—about every character, every layer they had, his favorite, and why

I think his fave would’ve prob be Luke

but secretly, he’d have a soft spot for Darth Vader too—not for the evil he represents, but for the complexity of his character

he was definitely spoiled—lived the life of a prince, no doubt about it. but his parents made sure to keep him grounded, always lecturing him to be thankful for what he had and to value everything, no matter how small

he’s the last person to complain about anything, especially when it comes to material stuff

If your apartment’s not exactly perfect or if you don’t have all the fancy things, don’t feel embarrassed—he couldn’t care less about that

Bruce isn’t the type to judge people for their circumstances

what matters to him is who you are, not what you have

he traveled a lot and saw poverty up close. he didn’t just witness it; he experienced it and used it as a way to train and push himself

so I think he’d insist that you don’t let his wealth define you or make you feel small. he’d want you to focus on who you are, not what he has

but he’s still a billionaire

and sometimes it shows

Like if he takes you somewhere, he might be like,

“That place wasn’t good, not what I wanted for you, their steak was too dry”

or “The service was way below expectations.”

it’s not that he’s trying to flex, but his standards have been shaped by a life of luxury and privilege.

even if he doesn’t mean to, it can come off like he’s out of touch with the more everyday experiences.

listen, I’m pretty sure he was that kid in middle school—the one everyone liked. Popular, friendly, Shy, and effortlessly cool, he had a ton of friends and was the kind of person people just gravitated toward

but deep down, he was still an introvert at heart. No matter how many friends he had or how much people loved being around him, he always cherished his alone time—it was his way of recharging

probably teacher favorite

after his parents were murdered, he retreated into himself, becoming a loner—a shadow of the person he once was. the bright, sociable kid who could light up a room disappeared, leaving behind a quiet, guarded shell

he shut everyone out—his friends, his teachers, anyone who tried to reach him.

communication felt impossible, like talking to a wall ready to crumble at the slightest touch. he became volatile, quick to anger and prone to violent outbursts.

the smallest thing could set him off and it was clear he was battling demons far too heavy for a child to carry

he was always getting into fights at school, over the most ridiculous things—someone looking at him the wrong way, a comment that barely made sense, or a passing remark. it didn’t matter how trivial; he’d snap.

it was like he was itching for a reason to lash out, just to feel something other than the numbness that haunted him

alfred was absolutely fed up every time the school would call. It was the same routine—another fight, another complaint.

his patience was wearing thin but he never showed it.

he’d just sigh, straighten his tie, and head to pick Bruce up, trying to stay calm while his mind was racing with how much things had changed

alfred probably thought about quitting a dozen times, especially during those rough moments. he was already carrying the weight of guilt over Thomas and Martha’s deaths, feeling like he’d failed them in some way.

but even through his exhaustion, he couldn’t walk away.

he simply couldn’t abandon Bruce, not when his parents had entrusted him with their son’s care, not when the boy was falling apart.

bc alfred knew that no matter how hard it got, he had to stay—because Bruce needed him, even if he didn’t always show it.

it’s pretty clear that Bruce really doesn’t have time for small talk.

that man goes straight to the point, no beating around the bush. sometimes, it’s like he forgets there’s a filter between his brain and his mouth—so he comes off way too blunt.

but, honestly, he just doesn’t see the need to waste time on unnecessary pleasantries.

if he’s got something to say, he’s saying it, no fluff.

Bruce absolutely loves car races (it's actually canon in the prequel book)

he’s got that need for speed, and nothing gets his adrenaline pumping like watching or being part of a high-stakes race.

it’s not just about the cars; it’s the whole atmosphere, the precision, the thrill of it all.

you can tell he’s got a real passion for it—just one of those things he doesn’t talk about much bc he rarely even talks that is

and so, naturally, he’s got a huge interest in F1

He’s got a serious passion for mechanics too—like, borderline obsession

favorite car is, without a doubt, his grandfather's Corvette (the one that makes an appearance in that iconic funeral scene)

another phase he went through during his late teens—but never really left—was his obsession with Nirvana

It hit him so hard that he even picked up an electric guitar because of it.

spending hours alone in his room trying to replicate their sound, teaching himself riffs from songs like “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and “Lithium.”

it became an outlet for him, a way to channel his emotions without having to say a word

he wasn’t looking to impress anyone or form a band—it was just for him, a way to lose himself in the music. over time, he got pretty good at it, though he’d never admit it

and I think music became another refuge for him, a way to escape the chaos in his head

overall, though, he was a massive fan of Nirvana and Kurt Cobain

did date as a teenager, but it was never anything too serious

his heart was always more focused on Gotham—on his plans, his ambitions, and the legacy he was determined to create

relationships were never a priority for him back then; it was always about the bigger picture, the city that needed saving, the work that needed to be done.

gotham was always at the forefront of his mind, and nothing, not even the most charming date, could truly distract him from his ultimate goal

honestly, I don’t think he’s even a virgin. or maybe he is—who knows? but the prequel book did mention he knew his way around women, so it’s safe to say he’s no stranger to that side of things

was a straight-A student without even breaking a sweat. it just came naturally to him

fave subject was chemistry

he looks a lot like his mother but you could definitely see his father in him too—kind of a perfect mix of both, like a living blend of their best features

he inherited his mother jawline and hair

and his father eyes and nose

was really close to his paternal grandparents

they passed away when he was only seven, so his memories of them are more like faint impressions. but looking at the pictures on the fireplace, you can tell just how much they meant to him

according to Alfred, it was his grandparents who chose his name

never really knew anything about his maternal grandparents, except that they were long gone before he was even born. it was just one of those things he never thought to ask about, something his mother never spoke much about. it was as if they were just figures in the past, distant and forgotten, not even a whisper of a memory for him to cling to

he’s got a ton of distant cousins, most of them living over in Europe, but honestly he doesn’t talk to a single one of them. it’s not like he cares to, either.

that's another reason why Alfred ended up with custody. with all those distant relatives, none of them really stepped up and Bruce wasn’t exactly close to them anyway.

alfred was the one who had always been there, so it just made sense

didn’t mind being an only son, but deep down, he used to beg his mom for a sibling

comfort smell? It’s his mom’s perfume—lavender mixed with a hint of lemon

and Alfred cookies ofc

Bruce’s go-to comfort clothing is his dad’s old Harvard sweater—it’s just cozy and familiar.

as a kid, he’d call his mom "Mummy" or "Mama" and his dad "Papa."

most of his suits? Hand-me-downs from his dad. He’s only got a few of his own.His favorite sport is soccer—don’t ask why; it just makes sense.

Bruce has always been fascinated by his family’s history.

his dad used to tell him all these stories about their ancestors, and Bruce would listen so intently, always begging for more.

sure, the library had books on it, but hearing the stories from his dad just hit different. his dad’s voice made it all feel personal and alive.

oh, and he’s canonically descended from English royalty

his mom was really into gardening.

she loved her plants, especially lilies of the valley and Bethlehem stars.

Lily of the valley: sweetness and purity of heart.

Bethlehem star: hope and happiness.

she used to say they reminded her of his dad and Bruce.

Martha was also super into art and fashion.

she painted and was basically a Gotham fashion icon

because of her, Bruce was always dressed to impress as a kid

his dad, though, was the total opposite. Thomas Wayne’s tie was always crooked, and he had zero fashion sense

Bruce remembers how every morning, his mom would fix his dad’s tie and scold him about it, but Thomas would just kiss her to shut her up

at work, his dad was all about scrubs, and at home, it was pajamas and a robe

Bruce sometimes wears his dad’s robe now—it’s comforting

when it comes to fashion, Bruce is totally his dad’s son

if Alfred didn’t step in, he’d probably look a mess.

his dad loved photography and books

Bruce remembers how his dad used to take photos of his mom and him all the time

the library is packed with pictures of his family—mostly his mom and little Bruce

his parents’ love for each other was something else, and Bruce secretly dreams of having something like that one day

and deep down, he’s a total romantic. he gets that from his dad

he’s already decided that if he ever gets married, he’ll propose with his mom’s ring

a diamond blue sapphire ring

Alfred used to sneak him sweets before dinner (classic Alfred move)

they played chess a lot, though Bruce never actually won

Dory, his mom’s maid, was one of the midwives when Bruce was born

she’s also the one who taught him how to cook, and yeah, Bruce knows how to cook ( the essential at least )

everyone says he’s a cat person, but honestly, I feel he's more like a dog person. It just fits.

part 2 ?

or should I do dating headcanons ?

[ikkyfics]

Hii sorry to bother 🥲🫶🏻

But If I can, I'd like to request Dave maybe with an insecure reader that used to be bullied back in school days and stuff.

Please decline or ignore this if you don't feel like writing or simply don't want to! I love your writings they're so comfy and sweet (If that makes sense?)!

Ty and stay safe and healthy !😽😽

I’m here. I’ll always be here

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: "Hey," he called once he was close enough, his voice soft, but full of concern. You stopped, raising your eyes to him, and what Dave saw was enough to make his chest tighten. Your eyes were shining in a way he knew meant tears were close, and there was something fragile about your expression, like a single word could make everything crumble.

Warnings: mention of bullying, anxiety, sensitive content - a bit of well-deserved revenge

A/N: ooh you are so sweet, thank you so much for the nice words. and you certainly don't bother, my dear. I hope you can enjoy it, and please stay safe and healthy too <333

Masterlist

The day was calm on campus, with students scattered across the lawn and the muffled sound of laughter and conversations in the background. You had just left the library a few minutes ago, balancing the books against your chest as you tried not to think about how busy the campus seemed at that time. You were planning to take a shortcut to the place you knew Dave would be. Just a few more minutes, and the comfort of his presence would dissipate any discomfort you felt.

But then it happened.

It was a quick bump, the kind of thing that could go unnoticed on a normal day. The impact was light, but it made one of your books slip and fall to the ground. You automatically bent down to pick it up, mumbling a hasty apology without even looking at the person.

"Ah, sorry," you started to say, but the voice that responded made the blood freeze in your veins.

"Well, look who’s here."

The voice was sweet, almost musical, but tinged with a note of malice you instantly recognized. That unmistakable tone that made your stomach churn. You slowly lifted your head, as if you could delay the inevitable.

It was her.

The nickname came to your mind before you could process the face in front of you. Sugar. That’s what she was known as, but the nickname never reflected her true nature. She wasn’t sweet. Not really. She was cruel in an almost elegant way, capable of turning insults into something that sounded like a compliment to anyone not paying attention.

Her smile widened when she saw your expression.

"Well, this is unexpected. You, here? Never imagined that... well, you know, that you’d be the type to actually make it somewhere."

Your heart began pounding in your chest. You tried to smile, to act as if it were any other encounter, as if her face wasn’t dragging up memories of every moment you wished you could disappear. You tried to walk past her, to keep going, but her hand lightly touched your arm, just enough to stop your steps.

"What’s the matter? Not even going to say 'hi' to an old friend?"

"I have to go," you murmured, your voice weak, barely audible. But she didn’t step back.

"Oh, don’t be like that! I mean, look at you!" She gestured dramatically, her eyes sliding over you as if she were evaluating a defective piece of art. "You’re so... different. Not that it’s bad, you know? But I can still tell, I guess. The same vibe, that... how can I put it? That insecure little thing. You can feel it from a distance, you know?"

You tried again, took a step back, but she followed the movement, leaning in slightly, like a predator sensing vulnerable prey.

"It’s funny, because I remember you always seemed so... out of place. I mean, I never thought you’d survive high school, let alone get here. It’s like a miracle, don’t you think?"

Her voice seemed to echo louder than it should have, drowning out the sounds of the campus around you. Each word seemed to pierce your mind directly, bringing images, voices, and laughter from the past you tried to bury.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn’t come. The air felt heavy, like the simple act of breathing required effort.

She laughed, a low, almost conspiratorial sound, as if sharing a secret with you. "Oh, don’t get so tense. I’m just joking, you know? That’s what I always liked about you, that... sensitivity. Makes you so easy to hit. Isn’t it fun? You get all nervous, like you’re about to explode any second."

You wanted to run. To escape. But your legs felt glued to the ground, and all you could do was press the books harder against your chest, as if that could create some kind of barrier between you.

"Well, I won’t bother you anymore with your... busy day or whatever you call your routine," she said, finally stepping away, but not without giving one last evaluative glance. "Just thought it was funny seeing you. Almost didn’t recognize you. But, you know, some things never change, huh?"

She walked away then, leaving a trail of expensive perfume and poisonous words in the air. And you stood there, paralyzed, trying to process what had just happened.

The weight of Sugar’s words still seemed to press against your chest as you finally forced your feet to move. The world around you was just a blurred smear of colors and muffled sounds, everything secondary to the echo of the memories crashing in like a violent wave.

The hallways of high school. The judgmental stares. The laughs that always seemed to follow you, even when you didn’t quite know what they were laughing at. The feeling of being small, invisible, and at the same time, far too exposed. It was a whirlwind you thought you’d overcome, but now it was back with full force, as if time had stood still.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. Trying to remind yourself that that was the past, that you weren’t that person anymore. But the memories didn’t let up, and before you knew it, your eyes were misting over.

When you finally spotted Dave, he was standing near one of the campus benches, with Todd and Marty. They were laughing about something, and just seeing him there, in his relaxed and cheerful posture, made the weight on your shoulders lighten a little. Dave was the anchor that kept you steady, but even now, he seemed as distant as the rest of the world.

Dave noticed you before you could get too close, and his smile faded the moment he saw you. Something was wrong. He knew every detail about you — the way you walked, the slight curve of your shoulders when you were distracted, the way your lips curled into a nearly imperceptible smile when something pleased you. But now, each of those traits seemed erased.

Your steps were hesitant, almost staggered, as if you were carrying something far heavier than the books pressed against your chest. Your shoulders were stiff, and the way you avoided looking around said more than words ever could.

"I’ll be right back," Dave murmured to Todd and Marty, but didn’t wait for their response before heading straight toward you. He didn’t need to think, didn’t need to plan. He just knew he had to get to you.

"Hey," he called once he was close enough, his voice soft, but full of concern. You stopped, raising your eyes to him, and what Dave saw was enough to make his chest tighten. Your eyes were shining in a way he knew meant tears were close, and there was something fragile about your expression, like a single word could make everything crumble.

"Hey, what happened?" He took another step forward, reaching for your hand, but you shook your head, gripping the books tighter.

"It’s nothing," you said, your voice low, almost faded. It wasn’t how you normally spoke. It wasn’t you.

"It doesn’t sound like 'nothing,'" Dave replied, his voice firmer now. He put a hand on your shoulder, a light touch, but full of intention. "Please, talk to me. What happened?"

For a moment, you stayed silent, as if deciding what to do. And then, finally, you murmured, "I ran into someone... from high school."

The words hit him hard. Dave knew enough about your past to understand the weight that came with that. He didn’t know all the details — you still couldn’t talk about some things — but he knew enough to feel a quiet anger rise inside him.

"Who?" The question came quickly, almost automatically, before he could stop it. He needed to know.

"It doesn’t matter." Your answer came fast, and you looked away. "I just want to forget."

Dave took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He knew pushing you would only make things worse. But seeing you like this, so vulnerable, so distant from yourself, was unbearable.

"Okay," he said, softening his tone. "Okay. But let me help, at least. Let’s sit, alright? Just for a minute."

You hesitated, but eventually nodded, and Dave wasted no time. He found a bench a little farther away and guided you there. As soon as you sat down, he took one of your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. It was a simple gesture, but it held so much meaning.

"If you want to talk, I’m here," he said, looking directly at you. "And if you don’t, that’s okay too. But just... let me stay with you now, okay?"

Dave kept his eyes fixed on you, feeling the weight of your silence like a wave about to crash. You were always so good at hiding what you felt, at masking the pain with small smiles or words that deflected attention. But now, there was no shield. It was just you, vulnerable and desperately trying to hold it together, even as everything around you seemed to crumble.

He squeezed your hand lightly, a silent reminder that he was there, that you didn’t have to carry that weight alone. "You don’t have to pretend with me," he said softly, his tone gentle, with no trace of judgment. "I’m here. Just let it happen."

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling as you tried to form a response that wouldn’t come. You didn’t want to break down, not there, not now. But his eyes were so warm, so full of love and understanding, that the knot in your throat became impossible to ignore.

"Dave..." Your voice finally came out, but it was almost a whisper, as fragile as you felt.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head slightly, as if he wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to speak unless you wanted to. And that was what broke down your defenses. All the effort to keep the tears at bay disappeared, and before you knew it, they were slipping freely down your face.

Dave moved in the same instant, leaning in to wrap you in a tight embrace. It was firm, protective, but in a way that spoke more than words ever could. He wanted you to feel safe, as if nothing and no one could hurt you while he was there.

"Shh... it’s okay," he murmured against the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing your back. "I’m here. I’ll always be here."

You clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in a crumbling world. Sobs came in waves, each one bringing to the surface pieces of the pain you had been repressing for so long. And Dave... he just held you, as if he could carry the weight of it all.

As he held you, Dave felt a silent anger growing in his chest. He rarely thought about the times he wore the Kick-Ass suit— it had been years since he hung up the mask, choosing to leave that chapter behind. But in that moment, he considered going back. Just for one night. Just long enough to find whoever had done this to you and make sure they understood what it felt like to experience fear, shame, and helplessness.

But at the same time, he knew that wouldn’t fix everything. What you needed now wasn’t vengeance. It was comfort. It was knowing that someone was there to hold you in the tough moments.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," he said, his voice still low but filled with conviction. He pulled back just enough to look at you, holding your face with both hands. "I know I can’t erase what happened, but I can help you move forward. We can do this together, okay?"

You looked at him, your eyes still glistening with tears, but there was something different now. A spark of relief, of hope. Dave saw it and felt his chest tighten in a different way—not with anger or sadness, but with love. Because that’s what he felt for you, so intense it sometimes felt impossible to put into words.

He gently wiped away a tear that slid down your cheek with his thumb, offering a small smile full of tenderness. "No matter what happened before, what matters is that now you have someone who isn’t going anywhere. Someone who believes in you."

Dave kept his thumb resting lightly against your cheek as his eyes remained locked on yours. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he felt—every bit of love, security, and certainty that you would never be alone again.

He leaned in a little more, their breaths nearly mingling. Then, with the utmost gentleness, he pressed his lips to your cheek where a tear still glimmered. It was a kiss as soft as a silent promise.

"This is to chase away what’s left of the bad," he said, a small smile, but full of sincerity, appearing at the corner of his lips.

You blinked a few times, surprised by the gesture, and although tears still threatened to fall, a faint smile began to form on your lips.

"You’re impossible, you know?" you murmured, your voice choked but with a hint of affection.

"I prefer ‘irresistible,’" Dave replied, tilting his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But I’ll take ‘impossible’ if that makes you smile."

He repeated the gesture, this time kissing another tear that slid slowly down the other side of your cheek. "One more, just to be sure," he added, feigning seriousness, but with a hidden smile in his voice.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, almost timid, as if you weren’t sure it was allowed to feel anything beyond pain in that moment. But to Dave, that sound was everything.

"Ah, there it is," he said, his smile now more evident. "The laugh I was waiting for. That’s what I was talking about."

You shook your head, a little incredulous, but the tension in your body began to ease. There was still a weight there, he could see, but the way your shoulders relaxed just a bit, how your eyes weren’t as watery anymore, made the world feel a little lighter for him too.

"Why do you do this?" you asked, your voice firmer now, but still filled with emotion. "Why do you... look at me like I’m the most important thing in the world?"

Dave shrugged, but his smile was so genuine it almost stole the breath from him. He held your face again with both hands, leaning in until your foreheads almost touched.

"Because you are," he replied simply, without hesitation for even a second.

The weight of those words felt like a comforting hug in your heart. You felt tears welling up again, but this time not from pain, but from relief, from the certainty that you were safe, that you were with someone who saw you exactly as you were—and loved you for it.

Dave chuckled softly at the return of your tears, but he didn’t mind. Instead, he continued his small ritual, kissing yet another tear that threatened to escape. "And this one’s just to remind you of that," he said, his voice as soft as a whisper.

"Dave..." you began, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"Without ‘but,’ no doubts," he said, looking directly into your eyes. "You’re amazing. And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that, even if you don’t believe it now. Especially if you don’t believe it now."

The smile that formed on your face was different this time. It was more genuine, more complete, and Dave felt his chest fill with warmth he couldn’t describe. To him, seeing you smile that way was like finally breathing after holding his breath for a long time.

He grasped your hands in his, holding them firmly but gently. "So, how about we head home? I’ll make popcorn, you pick the movie, and we’ll turn this day into a good memory. Sound good?"

You nodded slowly, the smile still on your face, and Dave felt that, even if the day had started in a storm, now the sun began to shine again.

A few days had passed since that moment when Dave had hugged you, and although the signs of sadness hadn’t completely disappeared, he could see how things were improving. Time, patience, and care were finally bringing back that version of you he had always admired—a lighter, freer, more you version.

But, like anyone with a good sense of justice running through their veins, Dave felt that something needed to be done. That silent anger still burned in his chest, and the desire to protect you from anything that could hurt you consumed him. So, he came up with an idea—a plan that made him reminisce about the old days.

And, of course, who better to help him with this than Mindy?

"I know I’m retired, but... I need your help with something," Dave said to her, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice. He was more nervous than he’d like to admit.

Mindy looked at him with suspicion, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I just need your help finding the people who, well, did some... unpleasant things to my girlfriend. I want to teach them a lesson."

Mindy raised her eyebrows, a look on her face that clearly said ‘seriously?’ and let out an ironic laugh. "You want revenge? Because I’ve got a few things you’ll find pretty interesting."

"No deaths or dismemberment," Dave argued quickly. "Just something that sends a clear message to them. That they should stay away from her. Forever."

Mindy scoffed but couldn’t help smiling. "Fine. But you’re missing out on the chance to create something epic."

With her help, the mission was executed—nothing too flashy, but a clear and direct message, with a very Mindy touch. She was good at making things feel... uncomfortable, but no real harm was done. Dave had no doubt the message had been delivered.

When he finally got to the apartment he shared with you, he was exhausted but satisfied. The mission was complete. He leaned back on the couch with a satisfied smile, a look that mixed exhaustion with an almost childlike happiness.

You entered the room, immediately noticing the gleam in his eyes, the strange smile on his lips, as if he had just conquered something.

"Why are you smiling like that?" you asked, walking towards him. There was something mysterious in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place. "You look... happier than usual."

Dave stretched out his hand, an even wider smile on his face, and gently pulled you onto his lap, sitting you between his legs. He was visibly excited, almost like a kid who had just discovered something fun, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you warmly. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but the intensity of the gesture was clear—he was happy, more than usual, and it showed in every movement.

You, still smiling, but now a little more curious, placed your hands on his face, stopping the kiss for a moment. Your eyes met, and the tone of your question was gentle, but with a hint of concern that didn’t go unnoticed.

"Dave..." you began. "What happened? What were you doing?"

"I was just taking care of some things," he replied softly, a smile on his lips.

[solacescastleglow]

Personal Favourite Life Hacks

As an ADHD haver with several additional memory issues, I've had to set up my life in such a way that it's basically impossible to not do important things. Here are some of those things. By the way, you have my full permission to use these even if you have no "reason" to need them, I'm not here to gatekeep.

Only books stay on/around the bed overnight, so when I wake up I don't go straight on my phone

Snoozing my wake up alarm thrice to measure half an hour after waking up (which is when I can use screens)

Using that half hour to get my reading in

Charging my devices under my yoga mat so I have to exercise before using them

Eating the same (healthy) thing for breakfast every morning so there's no need to think about it

Putting medication on top of the chai canister so there's no forgetting it

Lazy ginger shot: 1 heaped teaspoon of ginger out of the jar, a big squirt of bottled lemon juice, a little bit of honey or whatever you prefer, a good amount of turmeric, a tiny spoon of salt, and a couple of cracks of black pepper. Measure with your heart, combine into a shot glass, and follow it up with water to get the ginger fibres out of your mouth. Takes like 2 minutes, basically free if you already use these for cooking, and works the same as any other ginger shot except maybe better because it has more fibre and electrolytes.

Linen as a first layer, especially in summer

Using an app like Acloset so I don't have to empty my entire wardrobe every time I want to choose an outfit

Outfit repeating (shhhh it's fine I promise)

Don't put it down, put it away. Don't put it down, put it away. DON'T PUT IT DOWN, PUT IT AWAY. If you're holding something, never put it on a random surface, that's where things go to die.

Tiny rubbish bins wherever you hang out

Cleaning kit full of all the stuff I need to clean so when the mood strikes me, I'm not wasting precious motivation finding supplies

Time blocking

A container at the top of the stairs and at the bottom for things that go on the other floor AND as soon as something's put in it I move it to a super impossible to ignore place (like in the middle of the 5th step)

Putting on a song and seeing how much of an area I can clean before the song ends (for a bigger area put your laundry on and see how much you can get done before it's finished)

Putting my themed moodboards for each part of my life in the place I need to see them

Watching something themed around the topic I'm studying while I wait for my Ritalin to kick in so I'm in the mood to interact with that topic (if you don't take ADHD medication I'd recommend you do this anyway, it makes you so much more productive and it's more enjoyable)

Listening to lectures at 1.75 speed with the transcript printed out in front of me so I can highlight and take notes

Supercook is a free website where you put down everything you have in your kitchen and it'll tell you what to make with what you have - keep it updated and you're fine

Having a list of about 30 easy dinners so I can just pick some for the week ahead, then copy-paste the ingredients and cross reference with my inventory on Supercook to make a grocery list

Doing my groceries online, more specifically adding things to the cart whenever I run out of them instead of trying to remember what I'm missing all at once

ELECTRIC PRESSURE COOKER I love this thing so much it's unreal

Having a scented candle and mood lighting that means it's time to shower

Watching videos in the shower, even if I can't hear them

After washing my hair and using leave in, I put it up in a T shirt so it doesn't get all over my face when I'm washing my body

Shower chair in case I get tired, bored, dizzy, or need to put my leg up to wash it

I don't like flipping between pages when journalling so having only a year in pixels page to fill out (+ my time blocking notebook but that's another thing)

Electric toothbrush with a timer, water flosser, my whole toothbrushing thing is as streamlined as possible because I hate doing it

Somatic dance before bed to tire me out and destress from the day at the same time - I've noticed it takes me way less time to get to sleep when I do this

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: none, really... some curse words, alcohol, Merle being Merle

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Since it's my birthday today, I thought why not give y'all a little gift and post two chapters of LITRM this week. 🤗

I'm a lil' insecure about this chapter, though... I hope you are going to like it! Also, we have small cameos of two well-known TWD characters, hehe. Oh, and Merle, of course.

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Three 》 《 Chapter Five 》

Chapter Four...

... in which Daryl takes on a destiny changing job and you desperately try to forget the stranger who had conquered your heart so surprisingly - without success?

It had been two months and two days since Daryl's motorcycle trip through America with the gang and three months and eight days since the night he had spent with you. Now he was back at work; things bouncing back to normalcy.

A grunt left his lips as he realised that his break was over. He took a last drag of his cigarette, before he let the stub fall to the ground; stubbing it out with the heel of his boot. Then the biker returned to his current workplace in the motorcycle shop his brother, Merle, owned.

He picked up where he left off, exchanging the bike's chain, as he suddenly saw Merle approaching him in the corner of his eyes. "Got a job for ya, baby brother," Merle came to stand beside him; a piece of paper dangling between his pointer finger and thumb. Daryl looked up at his brother. With a grunt, he stood from where he was squatting beside the vehicle and wiped his greasy hands on the light blue, baggy overall he wore. "A job, huh?" Daryl said; taking the piece of paper.

It was an offer from a few different motorcycle dealer, who wanted to sell some of their customised bikes. "You wan' me to check 'em out?" Merle nodded; crossing his arms over his chest. Daryl scoffed and shoved the piece of paper into his brother's chest. "Nah. Got better stuff ta do. Go check 'em out yourself or send T-Dog or someone else."

Merle laughed out loud at his little brother's words. "Ya really think I'd send someone like T-Dog? Lil' piece of shit can be glad that I'll still let 'im work here." "Then ya gotta go yerself," Daryl shrugged his shoulders and focused back on work.

Merle stood beside him for quite a few more moments in silence; just watching. At some point, it got on Daryl's nerves and he looked up at his older brother again; "Wha'?" noticing that he had a shit eating grin on his face. "Ohh, baby brother... You should really give this another think, ya know... 'Cause all of them dealers are in Montana - and from what I heard 'bout your last trip with your lil' friends, you had a lotta fun there, right?"

Daryl scoffed; already disliking this conversation. "Righ', fun."

It wasn't a lie. It was the truth and he couldn't deny it.

Merle's dirty grin widened. "So yer goin'?" Daryl grunted, but nodded; not having the nerves or want to continue this 'discussion'. "Fine. 'M goin'." The older Dixon laughed once again; "Thought ya couldn't resist." giving Daryl a rather harsh clap on the shoulder. "Hope yer havin' just as much fun this time, baby brother. Jus' make sure ya don't get too caught up, eh? I want dem bikes." The biker grumbled under his breath, while Merle walked away; amused by his brother's behaviour.

A few days later, Daryl was on the road again for his almost thirty hours ride to Montana with a stopover in Sioux City, Iowa, where he stayed the night in a motel and continued his journey very early in the morning - until he reached his (first) destination... Miles City. The moon had already replaced the sun, when he threw the keys to his motel room on the bed; angel-winged vest, sunglasses and helmet following. The biker was tired from all the driving and travelling, but he didn't feel like going to bed. Not yet.

He quickly paid the tiny bathroom a visit, before he searched his backpack for his beloved cap, grabbed his run-down wallet and the keys again. Then he made his way to the bar he held very good memories of... 'The Rowdy Raccoon'.

Being way closer to the establishment this time than a few months ago, he could walk and didn't have to drive - which was fortunate, in case he decided to have a few more beers or drinks.

The bar hadn't changed. It was still the same. Nice people, good music and excellent alcohol. Daryl immediately had a good feeling - just like last time. Like a déjà-vu.

His eyes scanned the area; not finding a single familiar face in the crowd, but he didn't care. He was here for the drinks, a round of pool and perhaps to find some company for the night. After getting himself the first beer of the evening, Daryl joined a group of three men, who had just made their way to the pool tables. They were open and friendly; letting him join the game, of course and welcoming him in their circle.

'Start Me Up' by The Rolling Stones was blaring from the old jukebox as Daryl's cue hit the white cue ball on the pool table.

He was definitely in for a long night. That much was clear.

You didn't know why you had decided to go in town this evening. Perhaps it was the urge to escape the same four walls around you and with that your mind - which had become more and more a trap for you the past days and weeks... Tess told you to get over it. Over him. And you tried. God knows you did, but you just couldn't. You felt utterly stupid for holding on to this, but your heart acted on its own will. One night was enough to make you a fool for man, who you barely knew and you'd most likely never see again.

You sighed; grimacing as you stopped at the bar.

I need a drink, you convinced yourself, but deep down you knew that you just went there because it reminded you of him. You weren't able to escape it. It was like an invisible string pulling you in. So, you did what you had already done nth times before... Stepping inside the 'rowdy Raccoon'.

The by now familiar smell of alcohol, cold smoke and a trillion different perfumes hit your nose. Without wasting another thought, you stepped directly over to the bar counter; sliding on one of the stools. "Hey, Y/N," the bartender greeted you with a smile. You became quite good friends over the last few months. "Hey, Magna." "Same as always?" You nodded. "Yeah, please." The woman with inked skin wiped her hands on a towel and immediately went to work.

"There you go, honey," Magna said; placing a glass in front of you. "One Whiskey Cola." "Thanks."

You did some small talk with Magna; trying to not get too lost in your own thoughts - and it worked. In your eyes, it was a success. A step in the right direction - but only mere minutes later, you got thrown off track once again; harder than ever before...

Returning from a visit to the restrooms, Magna placed a second glass of Whiskey Cola in front of you, causing you to frown. "Magna, I didn't-" "I know," the bartender interrupted you immediately. "But that guy over there insisted on buying you a drink. Guess you got a secret admirer." Magna winked; jutting her head into the direction of the pool tables. Still frowning, your eyes followed her gesture - and what you then saw made you question your sanity for a good minute...

Beside the left pool table stood none other than the man who had managed to turn your whole world upside down within a few hours; a cue in his right hand, a beer in the other. He was talking to some other dudes he was playing with - all of them unfamiliar to you and not his motorcycle gang. The signature angel-winged vest, chestnut brown curls and black baseball cap was unmistakable... It was Daryl.

"No fucking way..." You mumbled underneath your breath; still trying to grasp this. You were quite a bit afraid that you were drunk already or dreaming and therefore hallucinating - but when your eyes met those endless blue-grey orbs, you knew it was real. Your thundering heart inside of your chest was enough proof. The world seemed to stop turning around you. All you could see, was the handsome biker across from you - and the beautiful, cheeky little smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Like in a trance, you slipped off the bar stool; legs carrying you over to the man in leather and jeans.

"D-Daryl?" You breathed in disbelief, as your hand twitched beside your body; desperately resisting the urge to touch him and see if he was truly real.

The man kept on smirking softly; nodding at you. "Hey, cowgirl. Thought I was never gonna see ya again... 'N yet here we are."

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @coleigh-1205-blog @chaoticevilbakugo @thevegandarkelf @lou12346789 @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007

If you want to be added or removed from this taglist, please let me know!

[whimsicalpolitical]

Matty gun play? 🫣🫣

18+ mdni, what the ask says ;)

you‘re laying in bed, answering some emails on your laptop with matty next to you who’s strumming something on his guitar.

you feel him shift beside you, and when you glance over, his face has taken on a certain expression—mischievous, like he’s just thought of something he probably shouldn’t say but absolutely will anyway.

“what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what’s that look for?”

his grin widens. “just remembered something.”

“don’t like how you’re smiling right now,” you say, closing your laptop slightly. “it’s suspicious.”

he sits up fully, eyes glittering with amusement. “d’you know what i brought home from the set, love?”

you blink, confused. “no?”

but before you can finish, matty’s already standing, disappearing into the corner of the room where his bag sits. you hear the sound of rummaging, and your heart skips a beat when you realize what he’s talking about.

a week ago, maybe more, you’d let something slip—a half-embarrassed confession after he caught you reading a particularly spicy scene in a book.

“don’t tell me,” you call out, sitting up straighter.

he turns around, something in his hand. something black and unmistakable. a prop gun, its metal gleaming faintly in the low light.

then you hear it—the faint clink of metal.

your stomach flips. “matty.”

he turns around, and in his hand is a gun. not a prop gun, not some replica—it looks real. it gleams faintly in the low light, and your breath catches.

“is that—” you stammer, sitting up straighter. “matty, is that real?”

he smirks, holding it up casually. “yeah, course it’s real.”

“what the fuck, matty?” your voice pitches up, half panic, half disbelief.

“relax,” he says, his tone maddeningly calm. “all the safety stuff’s on. it’s not loaded, love. i’m not an idiot.”

your breath catches, and you can’t stop the way your lips part slightly.

matty notices. of course he notices. his grin is slow and wicked as he walks back toward the bed, holding the gun casually, almost lazily, like it’s nothing. like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

“this,” he says, his voice a little lower now, “was just lying around on set. thought, ‘why not bring it home?’”

you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “matty—”

“what?” he teases, sitting down at the edge of the bed. he spins the gun once in his hand, showing off, before setting it down beside him. “you’re not scared, are you?”

“no,” you say quickly, too quickly. “it’s just… what are you even doing with that?”

“just thought you might want to see it. figured we could… talk about that little thing you told me last week.”

your cheeks burn. “i didn’t say anything.”

“oh, you absolutely did,” he counters, leaning forward slightly. “something about how you think you’ve got a thing for this sort of thing? or was that just the book talking?”

“matty,” you warn, though your voice comes out weaker than you’d like.

“you’re biting your lip,” he points out, his grin downright sinful now. “don’t tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

you glance at the gun, then back at him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. “god, this is actually real.”

“ridiculously real” he drawls, picking the gun back up. he pauses, holding it up like he’s inspecting it, then looks at you again. “so? you up for using this?”

your stomach flips, and you feel heat curl low in your belly. you hesitate, but only for a moment, before nodding slowly.

“yeah?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with something darker.

you bite your lip again, and this time you don’t stop yourself. “yeah.”

his grin turns feral, and he leans in close, the gun still in his hand. “good girl.”

now you’re really fucking ready. you keep staring at the gun on the bed while matty picks up his guitar and lays it on the couch by the window.

“fuck, i’m really excited to use it,” matty says while walking towards you and laying over you, taking the gun into his hand again.

"this is hot," he says, making your heart skip a beat as he presses the nose of the gun into your chest, forcing you backward. "i love your ideas."

you nod, even though there was no need to, but you aren’t really focused on his words. you are focused on the gun pressing into your body, imagining it pressed against your clit, up your cunt.

“kiss me,” you breathe out, looking into his brown eyes that you love so much.

his lips brush against yours in a gentle kiss, barely a whisper of contact at first. not what you need.

you shift closer, your hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. he sighs into your mouth,his lips parting just slightly. you take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tracing the outline of his lips with your tongue.

while making out the gun is still flush against your chest, now grazing your nipple as you arch into him.

he pulls back only enough to speak into your mouth. "what’s your safe word?"

"manchester.”

he hums in response, fingers threading through your hair as he pushes the barrel of the gun down your stomach. you freeze, a subtle gap forming between your lips as your eyes remain locked on the motion.

he brings his mouth to your ear, nipping at the skin lightly as he pushes the metal further down your body, lifting the hem of your shirt with it. you gasp at the feeling, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you try to hide just how affected you are.

"d’you trust me?”

"yes." you respond without hesitation.

he kisses your lips, gentle and unhurried, as if he is savoring the sensation.

"take these off for me.”

his gun presses against the waistband of your shorts. you don’t waste a second, lifting your hips and shimmying out of the fabric. a sound of approval vibrates from his throat, his fingers entwining in your hair, gently drawing your face closer to his.

"are you absolutely sure, darling?”

you breathe out a ‘yes’ and it sounds like a prayer as your eyes trail down to in between your thighs where the gun is now sitting.

"need it, matty. so bad.”

"oh, you’re already this desperate and i haven’t even done anything,” he tsked his tongue, running the nose of the gun over your clothed heat. "well, i can tell you need it.”

you let out a sharp gasp, bucking your hips into the device as you meet his eyes, willing him to keep going.

you had never been more turned on in your life. his hand moves from your neck to the small of your waist, pinning you in place.

“turns you on, hm?”

he lays the gun beside your hip on the bed in order to pull your panties off. you squirm at the rush of cold air encompassing between your thighs. his eyes are glued to your cunt, tongue darting out to swipe across his lips.

"christ, darling," he hisses, sliding one finger through your slit, "needy girl."

"matty, please.”

you catch his hand grabbing the glock and repeating the action his finger just did.

you choke out a sound, stuttering against the touch. he in a merciful mood apparently, pushing the gun slowly into your drenched cunt. you are writhing against it, your mouth parting as you try to get used to the foreign object.

"alright?" he asks, pausing his motions, giving you a second to adjust.

you swallow. your gaze drawn down to where he is sliding the gun into you. you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.

“yes. s’ good.”

"yeah? you can take it," he says.

you still try to adjust to the new sensation but it’s hard and it makes you hold your breath.

his hand rests gently against the pouch of your stomach. "breathe, darling."

a pent-up breath escapes your lips, and he rewards you by sinking the gun further into you. your fingers wrap around his biceps.

one final thrust and it is fully in you. you can feel every groove and contour of it, cunt clenching and unclenching at the sensation.

"look at you," he drawls, beginning to fuck you with it.

"you like that?" he asks, “feels good?”

you can only nod, mouth hanging pathetically open as you moan and whine.

"you’re so fucking hot," he says, thrusting the gun faster, causing you to tighten your hands around his neck, bringing him so close his words melting into your skin. “that’s it. you sound so pretty, shit, and it’s all for me.”

you can feel your arousal leaking to your thighs, coating his forearm in the process.

"i will never give this back. it’s getting you off so good. jesus, you’re drenching yourself.”

all you feel is the growing tightness in your core, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace.

"is it that good? makes you clench around it already." his chuckle escapes through his words, and his motions don’t falter, intent of ushering you to your peak. "my dirty girl.“

you are so close, the edges of the gun managing to hit every spot just right.

“i- can,” you moan out, wanting to beg for him yo let you come but your words get lost midway.

"come on, love. don’t bother asking, just come whenever you want to.”

fuck. you let out another strangled gasp, way louder than intended as your back arches like a string of a bow, and then suddenly you release.

“oh fuck- matty.”

“perfect, just like that, darling.” he’s still thrusting the gun into you, gentler this time, only moving at a slow pace until you’ve fully come down.

you let out a subdued hum, propping yourself on your elbows, your eyes lazily rising to meet his with a tender flutter.

"gorgeous, love," he murmurs. your gaze catches the gun, now bathed in a liquid gloss, cradled in his hands.

"oh my god," you say, hand covering your mouth.

he laughs softly, placing it on the bed before his lips brush against yours.

"don’t be embarrassed. don’t, alright? that was one of the hottest thing i’ve ever seen. got me so fucking hard.”

"really?” you ask, smirking.

"really,” he scoffs, “everything you do turns me on so bad.”

you giggle and start trailing kisses from his cheek down his neck.

“want to tell me other things you’re reading about?”

[izumkay]

~BETWEEN MISSIONS AND DESIRE~

—SATORU GOJO

Pairing- Satoru Gojo×Gn!Reader

Summary- After a grueling mission, you find yourself alone in a hotel room with Gojo. What starts as playful teasing quickly shifts to lingering stares and unspoken desires, the tension between you impossible to ignore. As the night deepens, the lines between banter and something far more intimate blur, leaving you questioning how much longer you can resist him.

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- Flirty/Suggestive themes, Sexual tention, mild language, no explicit content (just kissing)

The hotel room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustling of sheets. The dim light from the bedside lamp flickered lazily, casting a warm glow over the two of you lying in bed. You had just finished a mission with Gojo—another one of those intense, action-packed days that left your muscles sore and your mind buzzing. But now, it was late, and all you wanted was to rest before heading back home in the morning.

Or at least, that's what you thought.

Gojo, as always, had other plans.

"Yo, you asleep?" His voice came from the other side of the bed, playful yet a little too loud for the silence of the room. He was lying on his back, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his chest, staring at the ceiling like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to respond.

You rolled over, one eye barely open, groaning in the dark. "No, not really," you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep. "You just woke me up."

Gojo chuckled lightly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. "Ah, sorry. But you know I'm not gonna let you sleep that easy. I've got too much on my mind."

You raised an eyebrow, turning your body fully toward him, your eyes now wide awake despite the exhaustion still weighing on you. "You really can't sleep after everything we've been through today?"

A grin spread across his face, and you could just feel the mischief radiating from him, even in the dark. "I could," he said with a hint of teasing in his voice. "But I'm more curious about what's going on in your head. You know, after all this time... we never really talk about the serious stuff."

You blinked, unsure whether he was being serious or if he was just trying to keep you awake for no good reason. "What kind of 'serious stuff' are we talking about here, Gojo?"

His eyes shifted toward you, and you could feel his presence intensify, his usual playfulness suddenly replaced by something more... direct. "I mean, like... us," he said, the words slipping from his lips with ease, like he'd been thinking about them all day. "We've been through a lot together, but we never really talk about what this is. What we are."

You didn't know how to respond. The tension in the room shifted, subtle but unmistakable. You had always been close with Gojo—your friendship was solid, built over years of shared experiences—but this felt different. The way his voice softened, the way his gaze lingered a little longer than usual. It was like something was simmering just below the surface, waiting to boil over.

"Gojo, what are you talking about?" You shifted slightly, trying to act casual, but the tension was already in the air. You could feel the heat of his body beside yours, the slight shift in the way he moved.

"You know what I'm talking about," he said, his voice low now, almost a whisper. "I mean, it's not just me, right? You feel it too. The way we're always close. The way we can't seem to stop wanting to be near each other."

Your heart raced in your chest, your body instinctively shifting closer to his, despite your mind screaming at you to stay in control. "Gojo," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "You're really bringing this up right now?"

He let out a soft laugh, one that was equal parts teasing and genuine. "Why not? We're stuck in a hotel room, it's late, and neither of us are getting any sleep. Might as well talk about it."

You shifted again, now facing him fully. Your eyes locked in the dark, both of you silently acknowledging the tension that had been building between you for God knows how long. The playful banter, the constant flirting, the way your proximity always seemed to mean something more. It was like the lines between friendship and something more were blurring, and neither of you had ever had the courage to address it.

"Okay, fine," you said, voice steady despite the fire building inside you. "So, what do you want to talk about, Gojo? You wanna talk about the fact that you're driving me crazy?"

He smirked, his hand moving from behind his head to rest on your waist, his touch light but firm. "I think you know exactly what I want," he murmured, leaning closer. The heat of his body was undeniable now, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart.

For a moment, you just stared at him, the silence thick between you two. And then, without another word, his lips crashed against yours, hot and demanding. It was like all the tension, all the unspoken words, had finally found their release. His hands moved to pull you closer, the kiss deepening as you melted into him, every inch of your body craving more.

But as much as you wanted to give into it completely, you managed to pull back, your breath coming in shallow gasps. "We... we can't just do this, Gojo," you said, your voice shaky but firm.

Gojo's lips curled into that signature smirk, even in the dim light. He didn't move, didn't pull away, but his tone was lighter now, a challenge in his voice. "Oh? So, you're telling me you don't want this?"

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing, but you kept your gaze steady. "I want to sleep. Do you want to be the reason I'm grumpy tomorrow?"

Gojo paused for a long moment, and then he let out a soft laugh, the heat between you two not yet gone but temporarily put on hold. "Fine," he said, leaning back into the pillows, his arm still around your waist. "But don't think this is over."

You smiled, breathless but satisfied. "I wouldn't dream of it."

And just like that, the night resumed, the mission, the heat, the tension—all put on pause for just a little longer as the two of you settled into the quiet comfort of the room. But neither of you could deny what had just started, and neither of you were in any hurry to stop.

A/n- hoped you like it! Sorry for ruining the fun, let's not ruin sleep!🤭

[bidisasterevankinard]

I have loved you since we were eighteen

Bucktommy/T/ 2k

Buck has no way to be Tommy’s anyway. Why not break the last thread between them to stop hurting himself with those meetings? He nods to himself. The shorts fly into him with speed of lighting, sending a current of alcohol poisoning through his veins. He orders the song and then two more shots, drinking them just as fast. When his name is called out he gets on the stage, getting the long breath out. or, Buck and Tommy are childhood friends and Buck is tired of hiding his feelings. He uses the song to tell Tommy about his feelings

You can read under the cut

The very first time Evan Buckley saw Tommy Kinard was when they were fourteen. Tommy was playing basketball, when Buck helped his dad get all their stuff to the new house they bought in San-Diego.

The neighbor boy quickly attracted Buck with his height and athletic skills, and Buck’s heart missed a beat when Tommy jogged to him, offering his hand, name and to help with bags. Only four years later Buck will understand what it all meant. That his heart already chose Tommy to love him forever that very moment.

But for that moment it was just the start of the friendship. Incredible and amazing friendship, where for the first time since Maddie left Buck felt that he means something to the person. That he is loved. That he has someone to care about him not just when he had bad grades or hurt himself on purpose.

They were inseparable. Basically every 24/7 they were together. Evan and Tommy against the world. They were even each other's first kiss. Tommy asked Jessica Lee on the homecoming, when they were sixteen and was desperate to make sure he knew how to kiss.

Buck wasn’t even thinking of offering himself.

That kiss felt so so good. Made him feel like flying and, for the first time in his 16 years, free.

For a week he thought it was because it was his first kiss. But then Taylor Kelly, who was his homecoming date, kissed him during the slow dancing, and he knew. He liked to kiss boys and girls equally, but Tommy kissed better than Taylor. He was less demanding, slower. Buck liked it.

Whole night of researching and the next day he knew that he’s bi.

He didn’t know how to tell Tommy. He knew what crap Tommy’s father fed to the guy and even with Tommy’s refusal to be like him, Buck just didn’t know how to tell him.

He was sacred. He didn’t want to lose his best friend.

For a month he was silent. Dying inside, especially after Derek Hale asked him out and they started dating. He wanted to tell Tommy every day. But he stopped every time. He wasn’t brave enough.

Tommy found out two months after the homecoming. It was normal for them to come unannounced in each other's houses as if it’s yours.

Buck should have expected it really. But he was too busy kissing Derek to hear the door open.

He still doesn’t know who was more embarrassed about seeing Buck straddle Derek with clothes in a mess on their bodies. But at least he came out to his friend. Who hugged him and promised nothing changed between them. Buck didn’t analyze why it made him feel so bad that Tommy didn’t feel like it changed something between them.

He just thanked his friend and smacked his head when Tommy promised to kill Derek if he hurt him. Which was not needed, because a year later, Derek became one of the friendliest breakups in Buck's life. And they were just 17.

That’s when Buck started to see his attention always being on Tommy. His mood directly depends on the opportunity to spend time together. And how he hated Jessica for being such a good high school sweetheart lover for Tommy.

She was even ready to wait for him from the army, but Tommy told her not to. Buck really hated that he felt so happy and satisfied about it.

Buck wanted to tell Tommy how he loved him the moment he sent him off to his basic training, as he was the only person to do it. But he wasn’t brave enough again. Yet, he always came to be the one to touch him every time Tommy was coming back. Alive. Back home to Buck.

Even though San-Diego long ago stopped being his home as he left it for his traveling soon after Tommy. He was coming to Tommy. It was coming home.

Buck tried really hard to be too hopeful he actually came back to him, but his heart always missed a beat when Tommy hugged him so tight.

Four years later Tommy came back for good, but settled down in LA, ending the fire academy. A year later, he offered Buck to come and try too. Tommy felt like Buck would love this job.

He was right. Buck was ecstatic about being a firefighter. And finally in LA he felt like home. Tommy, and everyone, would never know it because he is back to being close to Tommy. His real home.

“I’m just saying, I’m still young and hot. I shouldn’t cry too long just because my first serious boyfriend broke up with me. So I’m going back in the date pool,” Tommy’s words take Buck back from his memory road.

Sal and Eddie nod with smirks, clink their beer bottles with Tommy’s.

“Finally, man, this one was never good enough for you anyway,” Sal shrugs and Eddie nods. “Right, Buck?”

Everyone looks at him now and Buck swallows, nodding, “y-yeah. He was too stupid and not hot enough.”

He uses his best patented fake smile sending it to Tommy and then sips his beer.

Those words get another memory out. Tommy and Buck are 18 and someone told them they looked like a cute couple. Buck still remembers Tommy’s disgusted face. It broke his heart. It must have been the reason he never told Tommy about his feelings. Not even when Tommy came out three years ago.

“Nuh, this one is too small,” Tommy says to Sal, who holds his phone, “I prefer my man big. I love to have something to hold onto.”

Eddie, Sal and Tommy laugh, and Buck fakes it too.

His heart breaks aging even thinking about seeing Tommy dating or just hooking up with someone else. He won’t survive seeing another Alex in the palace he wanted to be since he was fuckign eighteen.

“I need tequila,” he quickly gets up, as it seems scaring all three of his friends as they just and almost slipped their beers, “sorry.”

He needs more booze if he wants to get over their ‘we try to meet every month, but good if it happen every three’ meeting and talking about Tommy’s Grindr profile and that type of guys he wants to fuck.

“Two shots of tequila, please” he tells the bartender, turning to the stage where the woman with red hair sings about last changes and losing the person you love for good.

Yeah, Buck knows the feeling. He basically is no one for Tommy for years now. No matter how he tried to cling, the man put the wall between them. Like in those middle ages castles. Tommy is inside the castle and Buck was left out of fortresses and even thrown over the bridge over the moat. And the bridge is raised and can only be lowered from the inside.

Buck has no way to be Tommy’s anyway. Why not break the last thread between them to stop hurting himself with those meetings?

He nods to himself. The shorts fly into him with speed of lighting, sending a current of alcohol poisoning through his veins. He orders the song and then two more shots, drinking them just as fast.

When his name is called out he gets on the stage, getting the long breath out.

Well, there goes nothing

All three of his friends, who sit basically near the stage, applaud and scream the loudest, and Buck even sees Sal taking his phone out. Maybe the man would be kind enough to delete this particular embarrassing moment when Buck would hurt too much with inevitable rejection, heartbreak and completely ruined years of friendship. The man is not so heartless.

The song starts and Buck searches for electric blue eyes to which he will sing it.

I got a heart and I got a soul

Believe me, I will use them both

He puts the hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating too fast. He might not really survive this song if it will continue beating like that.

We made a start, be it a false one, I know

Baby, I don't want to feel alone

So kiss me where I lay down

Buck touches his lips, imaging Tommy kissing, closing his eyes for a second, letting himself live in the better word, before open them again and look at Tommy who swallows and crosses his hands over his chest,

My hands pressed to your cheeks

A long way from the playground

The moment of truth for which he is not ready for not even a little bit.

I have loved you since we were eighteen

Long before we both thought the same thing

To be loved and to be in love

All I can do is say that these arms were made for holdin' you, oh

I wanna love like you made me feel

When we were eighteen

Tommy doesn’t blink with a beer bottle half to his mouth. Sal gets it down for him.

We took a chance, God knows we've tried

Yet all along, I knew we'd be fine

So pour me a drink, oh, love

And let's split the night wide open

Tommy doesn’t move. Sal and Eddie play like they don’t know what is going on, not looking at him, as if trying to give them privacy. As if Buck’s doesn’t pour all his heart in the song in front of the whole bar.

Next part to the ending is even easy to sing. He just lyrics pour all his repression of a decade.

Buck jumps from the stage coming to sit near Tommy when the song is close to ending.

I have loved you since we were eighteen

Long before we both thought the same thing

To be loved and to be in love

And all I can do is say that these arms were made for holdin' you, oh

And I wanna love like you made me feel

When we were eighteen I wanna love like you made me feel

When we were eighteen<

He comes basically to bend down to be almost centimeters away from Tommy's face. Memorizing his face for the time he won’t be able to see it ever again.

I wanna love like you made me feel

When we were eighteen

Last lines are done, and Buck doesn’t dare to move or say anything. Tommy just stares at him till the girl comes to take the microphone from him. Buck gives it to her and then turns away from his friends, hiding his tears.

“I-I,” he swallows, his stutter as never is annoying, “I forgot I have the important stuff to do. Bye,” he grabs his jacket, throws his money on the table and runs away, happy to see the free taxi near the bar.

Taxist must see the tears running on his cheeks as they don't try to start the conversation.

When he’s at home, he barely closes the door before falling on his ass, crying in his knees.

Ten years. He was strong enough to keep it from himself for ten years. And now he should have been selfish and needy to break it all.

He doesn’t remember how he stopped to cry or fall asleep still near his door, but he wakes up to the sun getting into his eyes.

He masters powers to get into the shower and at least for a little bit feel like a new person, when he hears the knock.

He doesn’t want to answer. His head, neck and ass kill him, but the person knocks and knocks, so he has no other choice.

He is surprised to see who it is. He wasn't expecting to see him ever again. See him not on the job.

Tommy looks good as always. He must have had a good night's sleep.

“Tommy, h-hey,” Buck blushes, when he understands he answers the door only on his towel.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Y-yeah of course,” he moves to let Tommy in. “Do you want something? Juice? Water?”

He runs to the kitchen with a need to do something.

“No, I’m not for long. I have a shift soon,” Tommy shakes his head. “Just didn't want to go without doing it first.”

That’s it. That’s the moment Tommy will tell him they can’t be friends anymore.

“D-doing w-what?”

Yeah, Buckley, you’re such a masochist

Tommy looks at him, getting closer, “this.” Buck feels the fingers on his jaw second before he feels the warm mouth on his.

God, it even is better than he ever could imagine. Not that he really believes it’s real. That’s why he doesn't open his eyes for a second long after the kiss is broken.

“What are you doing on Saturday?”

“S-saturday?”

“Yeah, saturday. Are you free?”

“Y-yeah. I am free.”

“Good,” Tommy smiles and then bites his lips looking him up and down, “because you weren't the only one in love since we were eighteen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Tommy nods, kissing him again. “Fuck, no matter how I want to stay and get this towel off, I really need to go.”

The man goes to the door, opening it, but not going, just smiling at Buck, and that’s when Buck’s brain knows it’s the reality.

He quickly checks no one is out there, before smirking.

“Well, treat me right on Saturday and you won’t need to wait for the third day to see this again,” Buck lets the towel fall, memorizing Tommy’s moan. “Payback for your face when the person suggested we’re together years ago.”

“You're the devil, Evan buckley. Real devil.”

Buck shrugs.

“Yeah, I am. Yet, you still love me,” he smiles. “Go. The crosstown traffic is a nightmare. And be safe.”

Tommy nods.

The door behind Tommy is closed, yet Buck feels like they opened the new one. Better one.

The one that will make them happy and each other forever.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Not your Burden Pt. 3

Idea | Previous Part

tw: future dom-sub relationship, sexually explicit content, pet names, age gap (early twenties - late thirties)

With Simon’s help, your essentials were quickly packed in a suitcase, and your trusty, almost ripping at the edges, backpack. And yes, that included your vibrator, although you hid that one under your clothes while he was in your bathroom, gathering your stuff there.

As soon as you were done, Simon led you to the limousine, still waiting downstairs, and opened the door for you, while the driver - who introduced himself as Johnny - loaded your suitcase into the trunk. Simon got in next to you and the car took off as soon as Johnny was done. The warmth and gentle purring made you sleepy, the exhaustion of the last few weeks finally catching up with you.

“It’s okay, love. I’ll wake you when we’re there.” Against your better judgment, you closed your eyes and slowly but surely drifted off to sleep.

As soon as Johnny was sure you were asleep, he glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror. “You really think this is a good idea? She seems to like you.” Simon scoffed, turning to look out the window. “You know why we’re doing this Johnny. I need to catch this asshole and if playing the hero to his daughter is what needs to be done, it will be done.”

The Scott nodded slowly, his attention split between the road and the backseats. “But didn’t you say that she didn’t have any contact with her father either?” The blonde shrugged, glancing at your sleeping form before looking out the window again. “He will come for her. He is a scumbag, but a scumbag with morals. When he finds out that we have her, whether willingly or not, he won’t just stand by.” Johnny glanced at his boss through the rearview mirrors, trying to read Simon’s expression. When he couldn’t do that, he glanced at you instead. You were beautiful and looked way too innocent and trusting to be dragged into any of this. All the Scott could do was hope that Simon was not just using you.

Simon couldn’t help but feel guilty after feeling Johnny’s eyes on him for the rest of the drive. He had always liked you and hell, he had always known of your little crush on him. He thought it was cute, the way you’d always blush around him. The older you got the more obvious it became, so he stopped coming around, tried putting distance between the two of you, hoping you’d lose interest and eventually live a normal life. And then your father just had to go and fuck it up.

If it had been up to Simon, he’d never seen you again. But after your father decided to kill two of his closest friends and then disappear, he didn’t really have a choice, did he? Contacting you wasn’t his first choice, no, it was far from it. But no other idea paned out, so there he was, sitting in the car with you asleep beside him. He had to admit, the way you reacted to his words, even if most of the times you didn’t even notice it, had him chub up, making his pants feel uncomfortably tight. Even now, the way your head leaned against his shoulders, the way you unconsciously shifted to be closer to him, made his heart jump. But he couldn’t mix business and pleasure.

You stirred in his arms, but the quiet shushing that fell from his lips way too easily, calmed you enough to fall asleep again. A frown tugged on his face as he realized that you truly felt too light in his arms and he made a mental note to talk to the chefs the next day and make sure they cook you whatever you want, whenever you want. Not because he had feelings for you, of course not. But because for now, you were his. And he takes care of what’s his.

“Ah, I see you managed to convince her.” Amanda smiled at Simon as she approached him quietly, so as to not wake your sleeping form. Her smile turned to you and she carefully reached out, swiping a strand of hair from your face. “She is adorable. Take good care of her, you hear me?” Simon sighed and nodded, but a smile played around his lips. Amanda was his best friend, his right-hand woman. They had grown up together, both heirs of mafia empires, so when the age came where marriage was expected, and neither of them had the desire to forge such a connection, the chance to marry each other presented itself and both took it. That way Simon could inherit everything his father, the piece of shit, left him and Amanda would get her family off her back.

“I had the guest room at the end of the hallway prepared. It’s closest to the library and you said she’d always liked to read, so it only made sense.” Simon nodded again and quietly thanked her, before heading to said guest room.

When he laid you down, you stirred again, waking up a bit, but Simon was quick to cup your cheek. “It’s alright little one, just me. Go back to sleep, yeah?” You nodded with a tired sigh and turned onto your side, curling in on yourself. He watched you for a few moments until the door to the room opened and Johnny stepped inside, carrying your suitcase and backpack. “You ought to get her a new backpack, this one is falling apart.” He handed it to Simon, who took it and glared at all the tears and rips. “Can you ask Amanda to take care of that?” Johnny nodded and disappeared out the door, closing it gently behind himself.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Simon rummaged through your suitcase until he found some pajamas. Although he paused for a moment when he found the vibrator you packed. Picking it up, he glared at it as if it had personally offended him, and though the urge to throw it away and show you that you didn’t need something like that was strong, he instead opted to put it in one of the drawers in your nightstand.

As soon as he had found the pajamas, he carefully rolled you back onto your back and changed you. While doing so, he couldn’t help but gently trace his hands over your curves, memorizing them as his cock slowly hardened. When he realized what he was doing, he cursed under his breath and finished changing your clothes. And before he could succumb to his desire, he tucked you in and left the room, heading to the master bathroom to take a much-needed cold shower.

Next Part

A/N: Honestly, writing that someone is asleep while you're also fucking sleepy really doesn't help...

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld @msjaeger @oreojenni @starlightmoon2020 @piconico17 @l1lpip @originalsoulcollector @ig-you-idiot @corvusmorte @ohdrey89 @dreamland08 @dprmoon @lilynotdilly @blinca

[destielaureversebb]

Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “Light A Fire (In My Heart)” 

Author: Lazarus Rose @lazarus-rose Artist: TwinOne

Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Length: 10,000 words Tags:  Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Witch/Familiar, Dean and Castiel Need to Use Their Words Relationships: Dean/Castiel

Summary:  Cas is perfectly content with his life as a lowly green witch, although he wouldn’t say he’s exactly happy. And then his familiar, Dean, comes to him with an urgent situation—his brother has been taken by some mysterious force. Despite the weakness in both their bond and their relationship due to Dean’s constant absences, Cas agrees to help.

Excerpt: 

Despite everything, Dean somehow manages a wan smile. “Work some of that witchy mojo of yours, man. There’s, like, tracking spells and stuff, right?”

“Uh…” Cas squints, tilting his head. “Dean, I’ve never even attempted—”

“Well, no time like the present.” Dean stands and walks over to the bookcase across from Cas’ bed. “Which one of these tells us how to find Sam?” he asks, gesturing towards Cas’ collection of books. Some of them are indeed spellbooks, but Cas hasn’t read any of those in years.

Still, Dean is his familiar, and, for his sake, he must at least try to help. He joins Dean by the bookcase and, after a moment’s thought, selects a thick tome of spells Gabriel had gotten him on his travels.

“I think there’s a location spell in here.” He places the book down on the small table tucked under one of his windows and begins to flick through, stopping when he gets to the correct page before glancing back at Dean. “Could you help me, please?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dean says and, in the blink of an eye, he vanishes, or he seems to, at least. A second later, an orange cat jumps up onto the table in front of Cas.

Dean’s familiar form had come as a surprise to Cas at first—nothing about him at first had seemed particularly feline. But, over time, it has become more natural. Besides, cats are magically powerful creatures and, despite all the credit Dean gave to Sam, painting himself as the less powerful, less talented brother, Cas remains sure of his potential.

“What now?” Dean asks, curling his fluffy tail around his legs and he looks up at Cas.

Posting date:  February 28, 2024

[insidekatmind]

Wrong name~Jobe Bellingham

You’re pacing back and forth in the room, your heart pounding and your hands shaking with anger. Jobe is lying on the couch, completely indifferent to your frustration. Every time you try to talk to him, it feels like he’s not taking anything seriously. And it’s driving you crazy.

"I can’t stand it anymore, Jobe!" you yell, stopping for a moment. "You can’t always take everything lightly! You need to start being more responsible!"

He lifts his head from the pillow, looking at you with that bored expression, almost as if you were an annoyance he can’t completely ignore. "Oh, please, calm down. There’s no need for all this drama. It’s not the end of the world."

"The end of the world? You don’t get it, do you?" you shout, starting to pace nervously again. "We’re in a delicate moment, and you’re acting like nothing matters! Like everything’s a huge joke!"

Jobe leans back against the armrest of the couch and sighs. "Come on, stop with the preachy stuff. I’m not your perfect life example," he retorts, his voice louder now.

"You’re not my life example?" you repeat incredulously, stopping in front of him. "You’re the one who can’t even think seriously about anything without making dumb jokes or avoiding any responsibility!"

His face darkens, his eyes finally lighting up with an emotion you haven’t seen before. "Don’t start with the holier-than-thou act. I’m not him, I’m not like Jude," he snaps, his voice rising.

You feel your heart explode with frustration. "I don’t want to be your life example! I just want you to grow up, to understand that we can’t live like this! We can’t… we can’t always joke about everything!"

And then, in the middle of the argument, in a moment of uncontrollable rage, you accidentally say the wrong name.

"I can’t take it anymore, Jude!" you exclaim, without realizing it. Jude’s name comes out of your mouth like a breath.

A chilling silence falls over the room. Jobe stops moving, his body tense like a violin string. He looks at you with wide eyes, an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. There’s no longer the usual lightness in him, just a darkness that paralyzes you.

"Why the hell did you say my brother’s name?" he asks, his voice low and full of something you can’t read right away.

Your stomach twists, and you’re out of breath. "Jobe… I… I didn’t… mean to," you stammer, trying to recover. But it’s too late. You’ve made the mistake. Jude’s name, his older brother whom he’s always loved but has a complicated relationship with, has just been uttered in anger.

He stands up slowly from the couch, staring at you with eyes that seem to pierce through you. His posture is stiff, and his eyes seem to read every part of you.

"Why did you say Jude’s name?" he repeats, this time more calmly, but his voice betrays an unease you’ve never heard before. His breathing is deeper now, like he’s trying to maintain control.

You don’t know what to say. Your whole body is tense, unable to move or find the right words. But you know you can’t take it back.

"I don’t know," you finally answer, your voice quieter than before. "I’m just so mad, Jobe… I can’t stand seeing you treat everything like a joke. I feel like you don’t really care."

A silence falls between you both, and your heart beats wildly again. Jobe looks at you for a long moment, then, without saying anything, he steps back a little. He seems to be reflecting, his brow furrowed slightly. His breath is slow but deep. Then, without warning, he turns back to you.

"Don’t think I’ll let you compare me to him," he says, his voice finally calm but with a sharpness you can’t ignore. "We’re not the same person. I’m Jobe, not Jude. I don’t like it when you confuse me with him."

The words hit you like a punch in the stomach. The disappointment is clear in his eyes.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, your heart sinking. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to confuse you with Jude. But I’m tired, Jobe. I’m tired of hearing you say nothing really matters, that nothing is important."

His face softens a bit. He steps toward you, his eyes still intense but now without anger—only a sadness that seems to reflect in his gaze.

"I know it’s not easy for me, understand?" he says slowly, his hands gently resting on you. "I’ve always been the one who laughs at everything, who tries not to take anything too seriously. I don’t know where to start, but…"

You look him in the eyes, your heart racing again. There’s no anger left in him, only a kind of surrender.

"I don’t want you to change, Jobe," you respond softly. "I don’t want you to become someone else. But there are things that need to be taken seriously. It’s not that I don’t want you to be who you are, but..."

Your voice falters slightly, the difficulty of expressing what you’re feeling weighing on you. "But I need you to understand that some things, some things, are important to me. I can’t be the only one fighting for something real, you understand?"

Jobe looks at you intensely, his eyes finally seeming to get it, though there’s still that hint of uncertainty in his gaze. "I get it," he says after a long moment. "I don’t want you to feel alone in this. I don’t want you to think I don’t care. But sometimes… I feel lost. I don’t even know where to start."

"Start with me," you reply, gently taking his hand. "Start with understanding that I’m not asking you to become someone else. I’m asking you to be present, Jobe. To take seriously the things that matter to us."

A softer expression crosses his face. His hands, now gently holding yours, tremble slightly, as if he’s trying to do what you’re asking but doesn’t know how to take that first step. "Promise me you won’t leave me alone in this," he says, a small smile forming on his lips, but it’s a smile more vulnerable, more genuine than anything you’ve seen before.

You look at him, your heart melting, despite everything. "I’ll never leave you, Jobe. But we have to be a team. And I can’t do this alone."

He smiles a little more, as if that promise has given him a new hope, a new strength. "Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Then I’ll try. I’ll really try. Because, damn, I don’t want to lose what we have."

At that moment, as you’re in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope. The road ahead will be long, but you won’t be alone in this fight anymore.

The silence between you both is still heavy, but now there's a new energy, a growing understanding forming slowly, bit by bit. His hands are still on your arms, and you can feel his breath growing more regular, calmer. There’s a kind of vulnerability in him that you’ve never noticed before, an openness that makes you feel, for the first time, that maybe he’s willing to take the step you’ve been hoping for.

Jobe lowers his gaze, as if looking for the right words. "I’m not… I’m not like Jude," he says, almost in a whisper. "He’s always been the serious one, the one who knows what he wants out of life. I… I’ve always been the one who laughs at everything, who tries not to take things too seriously. I don’t know how to start changing, but..."

You look into his eyes, your heart accelerating again. There’s no anger in him anymore, but a sort of resignation, as if he’s just admitted something he didn’t even want to face.

"I don’t want you to change, Jobe," you respond, your tone gentler this time. "I don’t want you to become someone else. But there are things that need to be taken seriously. It’s not that I don’t want you to be who you are, but..."

Your voice breaks slightly, the difficulty of saying what you’re feeling weighing on you. "But I need you to understand that some things, some things, are important to me. I can’t be the only one fighting for something real, you understand?"

Jobe looks at you intently, his eyes finally seeming to understand, though there’s still that hint of uncertainty in his gaze. "I get it," he says after a long moment. "I don’t want you to feel alone in this. I don’t want you to think I don’t care. But sometimes… I feel lost. I don’t even know where to start."

"Start with me," you reply, gently taking his hand. "Start with understanding that I’m not asking you to become someone else. I’m asking you to be present, Jobe. To take seriously the things that matter to us."

A gentler expression crosses his face. His hands, now resting on yours, tremble slightly, as if he’s trying to do what you’re asking but doesn’t know how to take that first step. "Promise me you won’t leave me alone in this," he says, a small smile forming on his lips, but it’s a smile more vulnerable, more genuine than anything you’ve seen before.

You look at him, your heart melting, despite everything. "I’ll never leave you, Jobe. But we have to be a team. And I can’t do this alone."

He smiles a little more, as if that promise has given him a new hope, a new strength. "Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Then I’ll try. I’ll really try. Because, damn, I don’t want to lose what we have."

In that moment, as you rest in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope. The road will be long, but you won’t be alone in this fight anymore.

[bl-bracket]

Since you are taking questions what would be your top 5 QLs? Or even just five you’d personally recommend?

oooo gosh I always get so indecisive with top lists and am always influenced by the things I have most recently watched but I'll try my best

Unfortunately, I still haven't seen a lot of gls yet. I've watched my fair share of gl mini series and started a few full length series, but unfortunately it seems like the gls I am most interested in like to air during the times I don't have time to watch dramas (I actually only just recently got to watch a couple dramas after a couple months of being too busy). There's a lot I need to catch up on still! So apologies in advance but this list is just going to be bls. Catch me in the summer and I'll hopefully have found the time to watch some gls that I really enjoy!

anyways

Word of Honor

This shouldn't be so much of a surprise if you have read the tags of any poll I've reblogged with any character from this show (especially Zhou Zishu). I binged the whole show in a matter of days (mind you, that 36 50min episodes). Even though the show is censored, I'd make the argument that it's still queer. Even if you took the show on absolute face value, Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are committed to each other for life and their only wish is to spend the rest of their days together. Like it's still queer, even if they don't kiss.

Anyways, I have been obsessed with this show since day 1. I've since fallen in love with the wuxia genre. I also love characters who are objectively horrible people. And I love the dynamic between Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing. There's a reason I've read like the majority of the fics about them on ao3. This show has a grip on me that will not let go.

2. The Sign

This show also captivated me body and soul. I loved every minute of it. It's like they made a show that appeals specifically to me. Phaya and Tharn are two of my favorite characters of all time. Phaya especially in the earlier eps won my heart with just how down bad and horny he was for Tharn. The special episodes made me realize that my ideal tv show would be a like 50 episode detective drama about their crew where they do case of the week stuff interspersed with fantasy and magic powers and whatnot and with a bunch of phaya and tharn making out and having sex thrown in. Like I would eat that shit up. I need more of them badly.

3. See Your Love

This is a recent one that I just watched! I hopped on a little late, right before the finale, and I had so much fun! I loved how they handled Jiang Shaopeng's disability and they managed to stick the landing so well! I know some people had problems with other bits of the plot and how they were resolved, but honestly they got the most important part right, which is what matters (and I enjoy some messy plot points that don't make sense mixed into my dramas). I LOVED the side couple. Wang Xinjia my beloved kitten <3. Anyways I really hope we'll get a special episode (maybe of Yang Zixiang and Jiang Shoapeng's wedding?)

4. Love for Love's Sake

I watched this drama last spring in one sitting while incredibly sick and it broke me. My process with this drama went "oh it looks like there's a new high school kbl out! hmm those usually aren't my preference but I'll guess I'll check out it's mdl page" to "oh shit? it's an isekai story? now those I love. I guess I'll watch it while I'm sick at home!" to "I am emotionally devasted." Don't know what else to say other than this is probably my favorite kbl of all time.

5. My School President

I haven't rewatched this series in a bit, but it holds a very dear part in my heart. I usually don't vibe with the typical high school fluff shows, but this one was different. I don't know why lol. I think all of the plot stuff surrounding Chinchillaz really reminded me of some of my better experiences in high school, which made me come to appreciate the characters in a different light, cause I really felt like my teenage self would have had so much in common with them. Then the romances were also good. Soundwin is still up there in my favorite ql ships. Idk man this show just hit the right boxes for me. It feels very different to gmmtv's other school fluff shows and I love it very much.

[vevobly]

not sure if ur taking requests rn but was wondering if you could do yellowjackets w someone who does photography/yearbook?

Yellowjackets With Photographer Reader!

A/N: I apologize in advance If I got your request wrong! I'm mainly writing headcanons these days, so that's what I went along with. Still, I hope you enjoy and devour this.

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie absolutely adores the attention you give her when you photograph her. Whether you told her yourself or not, she will insist that she's the best subject you've ever had. She'll suggest stuff like poses or candid shots she thinks would show her natural charm every once in a while.

Jackie is not particularly knowledgeable about photography but still, she'll try to impress you with comments like “That angle looks professional, right?” from time to time—she doesn't care if it may or may not make her look like an absolute idiot who is in love with you, she'll still do it.

When you tell her that you care more about capturing genuine moments, she's surprised. While you do like photographing Jackie from time to time, she always looks so guarded when you capture her. But after what you told her? She starts relaxing and letting her guard down around you.

Jackie secretly keeps any polaroid or printed photo you took of her tucked into her journal or locker. It's silly, she knows. But she doesn't want anyone else other than her to know about what you guys do. What you guys have seems like something special, and she'll be damned if she lets someone ruin it for her.

Shauna Shipman:

Shauna is fascinated by the way you see the whole world through your camera. She asks about your process from time to time. And just loves listening to you ramble on about all things involving or related to photography like lighting and composition.

She’s shy about being in front of the camera at first but eventually she does let you take a few pictures of her. And those pictures? All of it quickly becomes her favorite. Though, she wouldn't admit it right away to you—insisting she loves all of your pictures and not just those of her or with her.

If you ever show her a particularly good shot, she’ll quietly murmur stuff like “you’re really talented” with this small genuine, soft smile plastered on her face. There's a whole lot more she wants to tell you, but she isn't sure herself if you'd like to hear it or not.

When you're developing film in your darkroom, Shauna offers to help you even though she’s completely clueless about it. Why? Well, the heart makes you do silly things. And she just wants to spend time with you. Even if it could make her look like an idiot for it.

Taissa Turner:

Tai loves your photography and how it gives you this kind of unique perspective on certain things. She respects how much effort you put into it. And guess what? She's the one often encouraging you to enter competitions or submit your work to the school paper.

She's so proud of you and your own talent that it's to the point she ends up bragging about you every once in a while to her friends without even realizing it. She isn't aware of that herself until someone points it to her or after she's done with bragging about you to them.

Tai is camera-shy. Though despite that, she’ll agree to let you photograph her during soccer practice. But only when the team is winning and such! She'll tell you stuff like “no one wants to see me looking exhausted!” and so, when you're around photographing her.

If she notices you focusing on other people too much, she'll playfully tease you about why she isn’t your main subject yet. Or if she doesn't tease you about that, she'll tease you about how your eyes keep wandering to other people when it should be on her, your muse.

Van Palmer:

Van would think what you do is the coolest thing ever, even if you thought otherwise. No doubt, she would constantly joke about being your favorite subject. Aside from that, she'd probably pose funny and pull a ridiculous face in most photos you take of her.

She doesn't know much about your stuff but she's genuinely curious about it, especially the technical side of it. She would ask you a ton of questions and maybe even offer to help you develop your photos if you needed it (even if she knew only a little of it).

Van would suggest these fun places for you to take photos, always outing with you and basically having these mini photo expeditions with her. Besides those, she would help your gear without any complaints. But with that comes the endless jokes about photography!

She will always be the first one to hype up your work, just proudly showing it off to her friends and telling everyone how talented you—her lover is. If you ever doubted your work, Van would be there to remind you of all the great shots you've taken and just how amazing you are at what you're doing.

Natalie Scatorccio:

Natalie would lowkey be fascinated by the stuff you do. BUT! She wouldn't want to come off as too interested in it. So, she plays it cool. Saying things like "that's pretty badass" when you share your work to her. She loves all of your works but those raw shots you have are mainly her favorites.

She volunteers every once in a while to help scout interesting places for your shoots, using it as an excuse to just spend more time with you. If you wanted to take pictures of her, she'd act indifferently about it. But she's not fooling you, you know she secretly loves it.

Nat would be hella reluctant to take any photos you took of her, even if you told her it's no big deal and such. But she always budges in the end. She keeps any photos you took of her real closely, practically tucking them away like precious treasures she doesn't want anyone else to see.

She appreciates how you see beauty through photography. And aside from that, she really admires how you can find something meaningful or beautiful in ordinary moments. In ordinary things. You offered to show her how to use a camera once, and now she can't stop herself from taking pictures of you when you allow it,

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie would be extremely supportive of your photography. I mean, photography is a form of art and self-expression after all. And Lottie, contrary to what some people think, is a woman of art. She's always asking to look through your portfolio or recent shots.

She'd love being photographed by you, especially if it focused on more natural candid moments. Oh, and if it was set in natural settings like fields or forests. Besides the fact that your shots make her feel seen in a way no one else does. Your pictures of her are always oddly intimate and comforting to her.

Lottie has a lot of connections. So whether you expected it or not, she's almost always talking about you and recommending you to well-off people she knows would love to have their photos taken. Bet your ass that you're almost always being dragged to these fancy meetings between well-off people.

If you ever doubted your talent or got insecure about your work, Lottie is immediately marching up to you and reassuring you about it. She'll tell you all about how your photos have a lot of deep meanings (whether they do or don't) and that your talent is a gift that's meant to be shared.

Laura Lee:

Laura Lee would see your photography as a beautiful talent given to you by the man from above. She wouldn't fully understand the artistic side of it but she would appreciate your passion and dedication towards it though. She'll often encourage you to take shots of beautiful things, kissing you after it as a thank you.

She'd be a bit shy about being photographed but she would always let you take pictures of her if it made you happy. The thing is that she'd almost always ask to see every photo you took of her though, just to make sure she looked appropriate in it and so.

Just like Lottie, Laura Lee would love being photographed in natural settings like fields or forests. Why? Well, nature is one of the first creations of the man from above after all. Besides that, she really loves it when you capture her through meaningful moments between you guys.

If you ever felt discouraged with photography, she would encourage you to trust in your talent and in the man from above's plan. She would definitely offer you prayers and reassurance about it. Laura Lee in general believes in you a lot and aside from that, she sees what you do as something inspiring. Something joyful.

Misty Quigley:

Misty would be incredibly enthusiastic about your photography, probably a little too enthusiastic. She'd want to know every detail about the process and might even try to involve herself in it more than you'd want her to. She'd ask a lot of questions about it, like how you choose your subjects and so.

She would absolutely adore being photographed by you and she'd take it without a doubt as a sign of how deeply in love you are with her. She'd probably get a little possessive from time to time, especially when you're focusing your camera on someone else. She wants you to focus it on her more than anyone else.

Misty definitely would insist on being your main subject a lot, posing exaggeratedly over it while trying to be your muse. Her efforts come off as overbearing a lot. But hey, this is the girl that you saw and decided to like. The girl you choose to take out as your girlfriend. No complaints!

Despite how intense she could come off as sometimes, she genuinely does admire your talent and even goes to extreme lengths behind your back to help you succeed whether you asked for it or not. If you ever shared your photos with others, Misty would brag about it as if you're up and coming prodigy of some sort.