#hes just so simple to me and i think that's why i love him so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stxary · 2 days ago

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「 ✦ 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ✦ 」

❤︎ pairing : ex-bf!jungkook x fem!reader

❤︎ genre : non idol au, porn w a lil bit of plot, smut, angst

❤︎ word count : 2k

❤︎ warnings : yandere jk, jealous jk, possesive jk, obsessed jk, hes terrible but reader is still practically in love w him. extremely toxic relationship (dont be like them) degradation, car sex, rough sex, hate sex, love bombing, manipulation, obsession, creampie

❤︎ a/n: hellooo im finally back with another fic after a very long month.. my motivation has been in the dirt but its slowwwly coming back, im debating writing a multichapter fic but ik i would not stay consistent with it 😭😭 im not sure if this really counts as yandere but im js gonna tag it as that js in case.. let me stop yapping i hope u guys enjoy!! ^_^

you could barely hear your own thoughts in the crowded club. the music pounding in your ears along with your the light buzzing in your bones was making you feel sick, and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

“you should come.” your friends told you when they mentioned coming to the club earlier that day. they said itd be good for you, that you needed to loosen up and have a little fun.

at first you wanted to refuse, but after thinking on it (and your two friends begging) you decided it wouldnt hurt to come. they were right, you did need to have a little fun.

so here you were now, sitting at the club bar alone, on your fourth drink of the evening, regretting even coming at all. you rubbed your temple as you checked your phone, sighing at seeing that you had only been there for an hour. fuck, why was time going by so slow?

you were just about to order another drink when you saw someone sit down next to you in the corner of your eye. “negroni, please.” he met your gaze, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “and for the lady..” he dragged the last word out as he gave you an expectant glance.

you were a little stunned at first, surprised that he was offering to buy you a drink, and a little flustered by himself. you blink your attention away from the man, looking at the bartender. “oh, um.. ill just do whiskey.” the bartender nodded before moving away to help the people on the other side of the bar.

the man sitting next to you gave you another smile, breaking the silence between you two. “i hope you dont mind. you seem a little startled.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

you blinked, realizing he meant you were staring. partly because you were a bit startled, and partly because the guy was hot. really hot. maybe your friends were right, maybe this is what you needed.

“o-oh.” you say, shaking your head and laughing nervously. “im sorry. i just didnt expect anyone to come up to me, let alone buy me a drink. so thank you..?” you tilted your head as you dragged your last word out, urging him to say his name.

“hoseok.” he said, taking his glass that the bartender handed to him, and handing you yours.

hoseok. thats a nice name. and he seemed like a nice guy. thats usually hard to find in places like this.

“im y/n.” you say, taking a sip of your whiskey. you felt a little shy all of a sudden. you didnt want to mess this up.

“y/n.” he repeated, as if he was testing it on his tongue. “thats a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

youd be lying if you said that didnt make you want to smile. yes, that phrase might be overused, but somehow when he said it it didnt sound corny. or like he was trying too hard. it just seemed natural.

you smiled at him, hoping he wouldnt notice how flustered that simple sentence got you. “thank you.”

as you guys continued to talk, the time finally began to start moving, and your earlier nervousness faded away. so it wasnt really a surprise when you ended up dancing with hoseok.

you had only known hoseok for about an hour but it felt like you knew him for a year, maybe more. the way he talked to you, looked at you. like you were so important. it made it easy to get lost in him.

and he was a great dancer. a really fucking good one, it was like the music flowed through him when you were together. you never thought someone could sexy dance so well, but here he was.

you wouldve almost thought you were in a dream, the way your night instantly turned around as soon as he made an appearance. maybe hes like a guardian angel, you thought. protecting me from all these drunk assholes who would have bothered me.

hoseok leaned down and whispered something in your ear, the pounding of the music mixed with the alcohol making you unable to hear him. he repeated himself.

“do you want to get out of here?”

hell yes, you did. you nodded eagerly, his hands moving from your waist before one of them grabbed your hand and started to guide you off the dance floor.

then another hand wraps around your free wrist, yanking you out of hoseoks grip. you turn around to see who the fuck did that, ready to slap them.

but then your eyes land on his face and your stomach drops.

no.

why is he here? how did he know you were here?

why were you surprised? it was like he was always where you went. no matter how much you tried to avoid him, he was always there. you tried to remove him from your life, but the grip he had on it was too strong.

two months. you broke up with jungkook two months ago. but he wouldnt let you go. and deep down, a part of you knew it was your fault. because you kept letting him slither his way back into your life. because every time you saw him, it always ended the same. and of course, that night was no different.

“do you really think i’d let another guy fuck you?” jungkook rasped, his hips ramming into you from behind.

you whined in response, fingers clutching at the leather of his car seat. you wanted to say something, anything.

he had yanked you away from hoseok, all the way out of the club, ignoring your protests and weak attempts to pull away. he didnt stop until he shoved you into the backseat of the car, not even speaking a single word before his lips were on yours, already working at your clothes before you got a chance to say anything.

“dumb fucking slut.” he mused, fingers digging into your hips harshly as he watched the way you fell apart under him. he wanted to engrave the image in his brain forever.

he honestly couldnt believe you were about to let another guy fuck you. see you in the way only he could. touch you the way only he could. the thought of it made him push his cock deeper into you, your eyes rolling back from the feeling.

“youre mine. and mine only. you know that. dont know how many times i need to fuck you to get that in your dumb head.” he punctuated his last words with harsher thrusts, as if he was trying to prove something to you.

you whined again, nails digging further into his car seat. “f-fuck you..” you whimpered out, turning your head so that your cheek was pressed against the seat, looking at him behind you.

fuck, you were a mess. and you were all his. nobody elses. definitely not hoseoks.

jungkook smirked at your weak insult, slowing down his thrusts. “baby, you need to stop acting like you hate me.” he murmurs, his smirk growing as he sees you struggle to form words.

“i-im not pretending- shit, i do hate you.” you gasp out, trying to ignore the way his cock was sliding in and out of you perfectly.

he tilted his head, raising his eyebrows a bit. “really? if you really did hate me, you wouldnt be letting me fuck you right now. unless you dont care who gets to use you, which is what it seems like. you were about to let that guy in the club get in your pants.”

“t-that.. thats not true.” you whine out weakly. you hated how he was right. you didnt truly hate him, otherwise you wouldnt be in this position right now. you hated the fact that you couldnt hate him.

and he knew that he had that effect on you, and used it to his advantage. so every time he found his way back to you, it always ended like this. it was a neverending cycle, and as much as you wanted to remove him from your life for good, a part of you still loved him.

jungkook pulled out of you abruptly, flipping you onto you back. you yelped, not having time to react before he slammed back into you. it was then when you realize how close you were to cumming.

he leaned down, his breathing hot against your face as he panted. “you dont hate me. you love me.” he said, his voice rough. then, it changed to almost desperate, pleading tone.

“fuck, i-i love this pussy, i love you. nobody can even compare to you. youre the best thing thats happened to me, baby. i dont understand how you could just leave me like that. d-didnt you feel the same?”

jungkook was just rambling at this point, like he always did when he got close. his whole demeanor would change and his earlier anger would wash away, getting replaced with neediness.

if you didnt know better you would believe his words. but luckily you did. he didnt love you. he was obsessed, and it led to him not letting you breathe. its the reason you broke up with him in the first place, thinking if you cut it off, it would stop.

but it didnt.

after you broke up, the amount of text, calls, and voicemails he left you was insane. you tried blocking him, but he kept trying. then eventually he stopped, just to find you in person. you had to change your daily routine to avoid him, and he would still find ways to get to you.

“y/n, stop running from me, please. baby, i love you. im sorry, please talk to me. youre all i want. i cant live without you.”

no matter how much you tried to avoid him, or asked him to leave you alone, he wouldnt. then when you tried talking to other guys, is when whatever you would call this started.

“i love you- fuck baby, dont you see that? i cant let you go.” his talking was getting frantic, along with his thrusts, and you knew he was close too.

“jungkook, i-“ he cut off your words by bringing his hand down between you to rub at your clit, causing you to moan out.

“i know, babygirl, i know.” he cooed, his breathing labored against your face. “youre so fucking lucky i need to cum right now, otherwise i wouldve edged you for hours for being a dirty slut.”

you clenched around him at his words, nails scratching at his arms. his hips stuttered, and he let out a loud groan before filling you up, his cum shooting straight inside your fluttering cunt.

you followed right after, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a moan to match his. he leaned down and cut off your moan with a sloppy kiss, swallowing the small whimpers that followed when you came down from your high.

jungkook pulled out of you with a raspy moan, leaning his back against the car door. he lifted your leg up to stare at your cunt, biting his lip ring when he sees his cum dripping out of you.

it was then when you finally gained your consciousness, and at least a little bit of common sense. you pulled your leg away from him and began to search for your clothes, trying to ignore the way he watched you as you put them back on.

you got out of his car, only saying a simple 'bye' before doing so. and as you walked back to your own, a wave of shame washed over you. because once again, you let jungkook have his way with you. all because you were still in love with him.

you always felt guilty after the fact, but a part of you still felt like it was right, even though it was wrong. so wrong. you should tell him to stop, but you already tried that, and he won't listen. and honestly, you didn't want him to stop. you would let him in your life over and over again, because he could. it was the effect he had on you.

#jungkook fanfic #bts #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bangtan #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #jungkook x you #jungkook yandere #stxary #jungkook imagine

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inosukijiro · 2 days ago

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✮⋆˙ sammy

𝘀𝘆𝗻. ━ the first time you call him sammy.

𖤐 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 .ᐟ i had this idea bc ik he hates it when ppl call him that — except dean sometimes. but the other day i was real sad, and i just want a sam to treat me soft yk. anyways hopefully u all like it 🤧 sammy is such a cutie name tho

𖤐 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 .ᐟ fluff. crying reader, reasons not specified. hurt/comfort, emphasis on the comfort. sam-centric. gender-neutral reader. can be read as modern reader in spn, or not. isn’t season specific, but written with earlier seasons in mind. probably ooc. 2.1k words.

─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───

The first time you call him Sammy, he hates it. He hates it because he hates the way it sounds. It's ringing in his ears. The way it comes off your tongue is putrid and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It’s unexpected and it has him gapping. He hates it the most, though, because you’re crying.

There’s a laundry list of reasons why he hates it. But none of those reasons have anything to do with you. Even then, you’ve never slipped up, never even come close to saying it. Maybe you’ve thought about it, maybe you haven’t — Sam isn’t a mind reader. But he’s pretty sure you know he doesn’t like it. You’ve heard him shut others down before, made it clear it was off-limits. Whether or not you ever wondered why never really crossed his mind. It could be that you’re just understanding. You’re always patient with him, always respectful. It wouldn’t surprise him, though, if you already knew.

It’s in the way you glance at him whenever someone else says it, some stranger who doesn’t know better. The way your eyes flick to his, gauging his reaction, but you never ask. Never push. Never assume you have the right. It’s like you already get it — that to him, Sammy is a chubby twelve year old with too big eyes and an even bigger heart, a kid who still believed in things before the world beat it out of him. Sammy is powerless. Sammy is soft. And Sam has spent his whole damn life trying to be anything but.

Dean gets away with it — most of the time. Some days, it doesn’t sting as much. Other days, it makes his skin crawl. But you? You never try. Never tested the boundaries of what he’ll allow, like it’s some kind of game. You call him Sam. Just Sam. Nothing more, nothing less.

However, that doesn’t matter right now because you’re crying. Because you’re hurting so much that it’s spilling out of you, raw and unfiltered, past your lips in desperation. And Sam knows — knows you’d never call him that on purpose, never say it just to get under his skin. You know how much it bothers him. But right now? He can’t bring himself to care. Because how could he, when your voice is shaking, when your hands are trembling, when whatever pain you’re carrying is heavy enough to make you forget something so simple? He wouldn’t be mad at you — not really. He actually doesn’t think he could ever be mad at you. Especially not when you’re looking at him like that, like you need him to be steady, to be something solid when everything else feels like it’s slipping away. So he swallows whatever flicker of irritation tries to rise in his chest and focuses on what actually matters. You.

You, who’s crying. You're crying and you won’t stop. It’s the kind of crying that shakes your whole body, that makes your breaths come out in sharp, broken gasps. And Sam doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t ever seen you cry like this before. Maybe a quiet sniffle, or a small tear you’d quickly wipe away when you thought no one was looking — but never this.

He hadn’t expected this when he came back to the motel room. Dean had dropped him off before heading out to the bar down the street. It's the usual thing he does to celebrate another successful case. While Sam would’ve loved to join, he really didn’t. You were here and Sam could never stay away from you for too long. All Sam wanted to do was be with you and go to bed.

But he hears it the minute he walks up to the door. It's muffled through the walls and the wood, but he can hear it clear enough. The sounds of heartbreaking cries and Sam grows frantic. He’s quick to get the key in the door to unlock it. And no sooner does he do so, as he pushes it open, he finds you. He finds you sitting on one of the beds — at this point he isn’t sure which one it is and he doesn’t think you do either. Neither of you actually care, because that isn’t the concern.

The sight before him is, and it breaks his heart. But he rushes in; fast and swift. The door shuts behind him with a clunk, and he sees you jolt. And all Sam can think to do is gather you up in his arms. Because Sam isn’t some heartless freak that would close the door and walk away. His brain is too frazzled to think about anything else. He needs to hold you. He needs to calm you down. The tears streaming down your face tell him that you've been crying for hours. And just a little, it makes him sick, thinking that you’ve been upset for that long.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your face buried in his shoulder like you’re trying to disappear into him. And all Sam can do is hold you. His arms wrapping around you so carefully, so gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll break apart completely if he isn’t careful — like you're fragile.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers softly. “I'm here.” He soothes as he holds you. “Just breathe f’me, okay?” His voice is steady, even if everything else isn’t. You’re wrapped up in him, as your body trembles. It's not just from your crying. No, it’s one of those involuntary shudders. He cradles the back of your head with his hand, helping you press yourself further into him. It’s almost as if he's shielding you as you hide away from everything. And while Sam might not know what that everything is, he’ll find it and make sure it never bothers you again.

And that’s when he hears it. It’s muffled against the fabric of his flannel, and just low enough that he would’ve missed it. But he can’t. Because you’ve kept repeating his name through your broken sobs. It’s rapid before it slows. You say his name like you're trying to convince him of some urgency without having to say anything else. And then he realizes that you aren’t just saying his name by the time you start teetering on the edge of calming down. You hiccup and sniffle, and he can feel the heat of your tears against his neck.

The world around him seemed to fade and the sound of the highway outside dulled to nothing. He freezes for a brief moment, his breath hitched as those syllables hit his ears. So soft but shattered — fragile and so, so heavy. It was gut wrenching, and the way you had said it was different. It was different then he’d ever heard it before. Dean said it with familiarity, obviously — sometimes teasing, sometimes sharp, sometimes warm, sometimes just to mess with him. But you? It wasn’t just his name anymore. It was everything you had been feeling. All the hurt and exhaustion and desperation bundled into those two syllables — and he feels that flicker of irritation in his chest shift.

That irritation changes into something intense and unhinged. It burns in his lungs and coils around his heart. He felt cheated, robbed of something precious — because he had always wondered how it would have sounded had it ever left your mouth. Because he trusts you so much that he’d imagine it plenty of times. He imagined it sultry and light, full of love and care. The way you’d look at him like he hung the moon and stars. He pictured the way your lips would curve around the syllables, how the name would dance from your tongue and into his ears. And even if Sam thinks he doesn’t deserve it, amongst all the things that haunt and plague his mind; he thinks that maybe, just maybe, if he had ever heard it like that, it would’ve healed something in him.

But now, in contrast to everything else, the name began to taste like salt and sorrow.

You don’t really say anything else after that and it's clear that you don’t really know what to do next either. All you do is try and sink deeper into him, and Sam lets you. He’s patient as your breathing slowly begins to even out as he lets his warmth encase you. Your head lays so lazily against his shoulder, as does your body against his — so defeated, so worn out. And Sam feels just a bit guilty the moment he pulls away and your face is forced to emerge.

He watches as your lip trembles as you take deep breaths. And a soft, small whimper nearly escapes your throat before he's pressing sweet kisses into your skin. It doesn’t matter where they land, whether it’s your cheek or your nose, he’s peppering you with enough kisses before you could even think about working yourself up again.

“Hey hey hey,” he coos and frowns slightly at your tear stricken face. “It’s okay, honey. I got you.”

He studies your face as you look at him, your cheek squishing and settling into his cupped hand. You just look so tired. He moves to smooth the hair away from your face and comes to the decision that he can’t just leave you like this. To leave you with dry tear tracks along your face and to wake up feeling miserable. No, he can’t have that. As gentle and loving as Sam can, he presses a kiss to your forehead and gingerly uses his thumbs to wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks.

He’ll suggest ever so lightly to get you cleaned up. He murmurs it ever so tender, afraid of uttering any words too loud. And you don’t argue. You don’t wave him off — you don’t have the strength to. Instead you nod weakly and follow his lead as he sits you up. He moves fast, grabbing a washcloth that isn’t too far away in the bathroom and dampens it before dabbing at your cheeks. In fact, he wipes down your whole face so that there isn’t even a trace of your cries left. He moves more of your hair out of your face, the small strands of hair that were either dampened from your tears or the cloth, he isn’t sure.

But his hands are steady. Sam is pretty sure that his hands have never been this steady in all his life. They’re precise and patient, soft in a way that is only reserved for you. And when you look up at him — with a small sad thankful smile and red rimmed eyes — he’ll just smile back reassuringly, pressing yet another kiss to your temple.

He’ll ask if it's all better, and you’ll nod. You do seem much better now — calmer, more still — which Sam is glad for. And soon enough, the two of you are tucked tight beneath his covers, the warmth settling over you like a heavy, quiet comfort. You latch onto him immediately, burying your face as deep as you can into his chest, like you’re trying to disappear into the space between his ribs. Your grip on him, however, is no longer desperate but something softer, something lingering. His arms settle around you instinctively, holding you close. The slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing seems to lull you, your body finally relaxing against his. It’s peaceful. Almost perfect.

Though, a small ‘..ank you, ..ammy’ is murmured. The words drowsy, barely forming — melting into the warmth of him as sleep drags you under.

Sam tenses for half a second and his chest tightens briefly. But in the next moment, he isn’t paying it any mind. He doesn’t need to dwell on it. Instead, he just holds you tighter; pressing his lips to the crown of your head, lets himself sink into the warmth of you beside him, and exhales.

He wonders if you’ll remember in the morning — if you’ll realize what you said, if you’ll apologize for it, or if you won’t even think twice. He thinks about if you’ll say it again. Because, yeah, he feels extremely robbed. The thought gnaws at him. It's like it's been tainted with something new and he’s almost eager for it to not be. And maybe it won’t be tomorrow, maybe not even next week, but eventually. Because somewhere, deep in that big, smart, dummy brain he has, he knows that you will say it again. And when you do, it’ll be soft, bright, and full of something that only he could wish for.

He can already hear it. He can already imagine the way his nickname will sound when it’s spoken by you not through exhaustion or desperation, but through delight. And it’s already music to his ears. Because maybe — just maybe — being called Sammy wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it’s coming from you.

𖤐 .ᐟ i feel like i rushed the end, but its literally 2 am and im tiredd. anyways,, tysm for the likes, reblogs, and support i love writing these little stories for u all ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #spn x reader #spn x you #spn x y/n #spn #no use of y/n #no y/n #reader insert #modern!reader #supernatural x y/n #sam winchester fic

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cherryyluvs · 19 hours ago

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omg hear me out!!! the witch reader and mark and what happens when they casted a truth spell on them ?! like imagine the whole day, it’s just mark rambling about his deepest thoughts, no matter how silly and reader just like “good to know he really loves me” (also loveee your writing during this invincible fic drought)

Ooooh this is such a good request!! I can already imagine Mark just rambling non-stop while Reader is loving every second of it lol💖

You were at your desk, carefully enchanting a small charm meant to improve focus when Mark walked in. Still wearing his Invincible suit, dirt smudged across his cheek.

“What’s that?” he asked. Peering over your shoulder.

“Just a simple focusing spell” you said. “WAIT DONT TOUCH IT”

But of course, Mark’s curiosity was stronger than your warning. Before you could stop him, he reached out, touching the crystal. The glow flared bright, warm, and Mark blinked rapidly.

“Huh” he said. “Weird. I feel like I need to talk.”

You stared at him. “Talk about what?”

“I dunno” Mark shrugged. “Like I noticed how you changed your shampoo and your hair smells amazing. And how cute you look when you’re concentrating.. Oh…oh no, what the–”

You bit your lip, stifling a giggle. “I think you may have triggered a truth spell.”

“A what now?” Mark asked, looking horrified.

“A truth spell,” you repeated, trying not to grin. “It makes you say whatever’s on your mind.”

“Okay,” Mark said carefully. “Okay, that’s… fine. I just won’t talk.” Slapping a hand over his mouth.

That lasted ten seconds before he groaned loudly.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he blurted, hands still over his face. “Like, unfair levels of pretty. It’s distracting sometimes. Like, one time last week I was thinking about your smile during a fight and I nearly got punched in the face. Oh my god, I’m still talking.”

Mark whined, pacing around the room. “I think about kissing you like every five seconds! And you know what’s worse? Sometimes I practice what I’m gonna say to you in the mirror because I don’t wanna sound like a dork. But guess what? I sound like a dork anyway!”

“No wonder you take so long in the bathroom,” you grinned.

“Oh my god,” Mark muttered. “I’m gonna die.”

You tried to reverse the spell, but it lingered far longer than intended. Throughout the day, Mark’s nonstop rambling followed you everywhere. Even when he was flying you home after a mission, he was still at it. “you smell nice, that one time you wore my hoodie, I didn’t wash it for like a week because it smelled like you”

“Mark!”

“I seriously don’t get how you make magic look so easy,” Mark said, voice a little softer this time. “Like, you’re just... amazing. Even when I’m having a bad day, just being around you makes it better. And sometimes I feel like you don’t know how incredible you are. I wanna tell you every single time I see you, but I don’t wanna annoy you. So I just shut up about it but now I can’t shut up about it and… I really love you, okay?”

The words hit you harder than you expected. For once, Mark’s voice was quiet. Sincere. Raw.

“You mean that?” you asked softly.

“I can’t lie right now,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Finally, you managed to break the spell and Mark lets out a loud sigh of relief, immediately covering his face.

“I’m never showing my face again,” he mumbled. You leaned forward. Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Why? I kinda liked hearing how much you love me.”

“I’m never gonna live this down,” Mark groaned.

“Nope,” you smiled. “Not a chance.”

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible #fluff

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httpsdana · 3 days ago

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you have no idea how happy I am that you're back! I got totally addicted to your stories and the way you write, i seriously love them. I literally fell in love with Jamal just because of how you write about him lol, now he's one of my crushes, and he wasn’t even before!

Could you write something where Jude had already seen the reader at one of his games? She showed up on the big screen because her dad was a former Real Madrid player, and he kind of noticed her, but nothing really happened. Then later, there’s a team event at a pediatric oncology hospital, and she’s one of the intern doctors. The kids start shipping them because they look about the same age (and it happens to be the week she wears a fairy costume for patient visits).

Please think about it! And sorry if this was a bit messy haha.

Doctor Fairy~Jude Bellingham

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: I said I wouldn't write for Jude again but anon was so sweet and the request was adorable, so I had to write it 😭

Jude hadn’t meant to notice her that day, not on purpose.

It was just another La Liga match at the Bernabéu, the kind of game where adrenaline drowned out everything else.

But during a brief pause, an injury check in the opponents’ team player, the camera panned to the VIP box.

The crowd cheered as the screen highlighted one of Real Madrid’s most iconic legends: Raúl González. But Jude’s eyes didn’t land on Raúl.

They landed on the girl beside him.

She wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Just smiling softly, leaning slightly toward the legend next to her to say something as he nodded along.

But she had that kind of presence that made him look twice. Graceful, but not in the way that demanded attention, more in the way that made you curious.

Then her name flashed on the screen beneath.

"Raúl González and daughter y/n."

Oh she must be untouchable.

Jude found himself watching just a little too long before the screen changed. He wasn’t sure why it stuck with him. Maybe it was her smile, or the way her eyes seemed to actually watch the match instead of just being there for show.

And then, like most things during a match, the moment passed.

But he didn’t forget her.

Two weeks later, Jude was part of a club-organized visit to a local pediatric oncology hospital. He always made time for these events, knowing how much it meant to the kids. It was supposed to be a simple visit. Photos, gifts, autographs, and some smiles.

What he wasn’t expecting was to walk into the hospital playroom and see her again. The same girl from the stands. Only this time, she wasn’t just a spectator. She was part of the hospital staff.

Not in jeans or a blazer like at the match, but in a lilac tutu, green glittery fairy wings, and a star-shaped wand tucked in her skirt.

He almost stopped in the doorway. She was kneeling beside a patient, letting them decorate her with stickers, a soft laugh escaping her lips. She looked up just as he stepped in.

“...You?” Jude said before he could stop himself, a smile tugging at his lips.

She blinked in surprise, then stood, brushing glitter off her scrubs. “Me.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.

“Likewise,” she replied, amused.

“You work here?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Intern,” she explained when their eyes met and lingered a little too long. “And apparently also the designated fairy this week.”

He smiled, trying to play it cool. “You’re the girl from the match.”

She tilted her head. “You recognized me?”

“Well, the camera did zoom in on you for a good five seconds.”

She gave a half-smile. “Guess that’s what happens when your father is named Raúl.”

He nodded, then said quietly, “I noticed before the name popped up.”

She let out a quiet laugh, a little taken aback. “Well, I definitely didn’t expect Jude Bellingham to remember me, especially while I’m covered in glitter with wings on my back.”

“Honestly?” he said, looking her over with a grin. “It kind of suits you.”

“Careful,” she teased, “I might take that as a compliment.”

“Maybe it is.”

Before she could answer, a small child tugged on her skirt. “Is he your prince?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Him,” the little girl said, pointing up at Jude. “You’re a fairy. He looks like a prince.”

Jude gave a sheepish grin. “I’ll take that.”

“He should stay here with you,” another kid chimed in. “Fairy and Prince Jude.”

“Okay, that’s a bit dramatic,” she muttered, trying not to laugh, cheeks now tinted pink.

But the kids were relentless. They had Jude sit beside her for storytime, handed them heart-shaped drawings, and assigned them roles in imaginary fairy tales. One even gave Jude a pair of sparkly wings to wear.

“You’re handling this very well,” she said later, handing him a juice box during a break.

“Trust me, I’ve faced tougher crowds,” he said, gesturing to the group of kids still peeking at them from behind a coloring table. “These ones just happen to be cute.”

“You’ve also got glitter on your neck,” she pointed out.

“I think I’m pulling it off,” he said with a wink.

She smiled softly, eyes lingering on him. “You’re good with them.”

“So are you,” he replied, voice a bit gentler now. “They clearly adore you.”

“They adore anything that sparkles.”

“Still,” he added, watching her carefully, “I’m glad I saw you again.”

“While wearing wings and a tutu?”

“Especially then.”

She laughed under her breath. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And you’re not just Raúl’s daughter.”

She looked at him, a little more curious now. “What am I then?”

“Someone I’d really like to see again,” he said. “Maybe…without the wings next time.”

Her smile widened just a bit. “You’re bold.”

“Just honest. Can I take you out?”

She paused, then reached for a nearby notepad and scribbled something down. When she handed it to him, he glanced at the number written across the page.

“You better. I think the kids would be devastated if this was all just a fairy tale.” she said casually.

“Noted,” he grinned. “Oh by the way, I’m keeping these wings.”

By the time it was time to leave, one of the kids had made them matching paper crowns.

And somehow, Jude wore his all the way back to the car.

Because maybe he hadn’t just met a fairy today, maybe he’d stumbled into something a little more magical.

And it all started with a glance, two weeks ago, in a stadium full of strangers.

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starxanemone · 1 day ago

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꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ BLLK LOVE LANGUAGE HEADCANONS

isagi yoichi & itoshi rin ( as per @newinhalerpls request )

⸻ in which i'll be rating their love language on a scale of 1-10 based on my understanding of their personality + include the type of person they'd be compatible with.

⸻ [ part i. itoshi sae & nagi seishirou ] [ part iii. bachira meguru & noel noa ]

ISAGI YOICHI

ACTS OF SERVICE: 9/10. Out of everyone in Blue Lock, he's the only one (or one of the very few) characters with a decent mental health and thus, have a secure attachment style—at least, based on my observation. He seems like a genuinely nice person so he strikes me as someone who'd be really helpful towards their significant other even when it's unprompted. You don't have to tell him if you need help with something because he's probably on it already.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: 9/10. Although this guy has such a dirty mouth when playing soccer, off the field, he's actually pretty nice. He even comforts his rivals and isn't really afraid to say when he feels really grateful. You could be doing something as simple as picking up something he dropped and he'd probably give you a small smile with a grateful look on his face as if you handed him the world—that is, when you're his significant other.

Exhibit A: when he thanked Rin for the assist when he scored the last point in the U20 match. Technically, considering their relationship and the nature of Blue Lock, he wasn't obligated to thank him, but he personally felt the need to express it.

PHYSICAL TOUCH: 7/10. He's probably not the type to initiate it, but he's definitely not against it especially if it's his significant other. At first, he'd probably be all awkward and unsure since no one really showed romantic interest in him (according to the Egoist Bible as he hasn't received chocolates on valentines), but he eases into it pretty fast. You just have to be the one initiate all the time. Also, I feel like he doesn't want to feel like he's intruding your personal space which is why he holds back.

QUALITY TIME: 7/10. He strikes me as an independent person, but not the type to isolate himself or retreat into a little shell. He'd probably be the type to think that when you're in a relationship, there are sets of "obligations" he wants to fulfill as a significant other such as remembering significant dates, spending quality time by going out or even just staying in, etc.

GIFT GIVING: 8/10. He gives gifts when there is a special occasion like christmas or your birthday or whatnot, but he probably thinks that he's not all too great at picking out what gifts to give. I feel like he's the type to get you things that you once mentioned you wanted at one point in the past. Like if you say that you wanted a watch about three months ago, that's probably the gift he's going to give you for the next special occasion.

COMPATIBLE WITH: honestly, he looks like he can get along with anyone so long as you're both able to treat each other with respect. It doesn't matter whether you're outgoing or more introverted, or love to explore or stay indoors. I think that with this guy, what matters more is having equal respect for each other.

ITOSHI RIN

ACTS OF SERVICE: 6/10. He's a pretty angsty and irritable teenager on the exterior, but if he warms up to you, I'm sure that he's always helping you, though it's more for his sake than yours. He seems like the type to feel a bit annoyed when something's out of place, so if he sees that your bag's about to fall off your shoulder, he's immediately grabbing it and putting it back in place.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: 3/10. Not the best at words (he probably got that from his brother). He's not going to comfort you with words or reassurance if you're feeling down, but I think he has the decency to at least stay quiet and listen if ever you're sharing your feelings; it's just that he's not really sure what to say. The best reassurance he can give is by objectively telling you how a situation could likely play out.

PHYSICAL TOUCH: 2/10. Sorry, but he doesn't look like the touchy-feely type. The best he can probably give is a pat on the shoulder that might feel a bit heavy with how he works out a lot. It would be up to you to initiate stuff like hand-holding or hugging, but I'm quite sure that that will take a very long while for him to warm up to.

QUALITY TIME: 7/10. I feel like this is the best love language for him. I feel like he's the type to prefer hanging out in peace and quiet, doing mundane things if he isn't vigorously training. The best hangout would probably be something like watching a scary movie together or chilling on the couch playing scrabble or whatever. Still, I think he'd want hangouts to not be so frequent as he gets pretty tired from social interaction.

GIFT GIVING: 5/10. He knows that couples usually give gifts to each other, but he doesn't really see the point in doing that unless the object he's going to give is something necessary. Basically, he doesn't like giving useless shit that will wither and die in a few days. So, he probably wouldn't randomly buy you romantic stuff like flowers or give you letters, but he'd definitely give you something useful like a pouch, or a table organizer, or a watch if you don't have one.

COMPATIBLE WITH: someone who is empathetic, but also able to set boundaries. I feel like he spent a lot of his time brewing negative feelings due to the disagreement between him and his brother and their lack of communication, which is why someone who is empathetic and isn't afraid to articulate their own feelings is suitable for him. He needs someone to learn from as he doesn't even know how to healthily process and assess his own emotions. But still, they should also be able to set boundaries and know how to stand up for themselves because he tends to be pretty harsh with his words.

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nicolesainz · 2 days ago

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Grab me a mate, but don't call me mate, please? (FC47)

Summary: Franco is making his F1 debut after substituting Logan. The paddock's eyes are on him, like hers. She is the younger sister of Alex Albon, who with a simple 'hello' fell for the Argentinian. She feels uncomfortable with Franco having a flirtatious persona, but little does she know, his eyes only look at her direction.

A/n: I LOVE Franco! It was necessary to write about him since he is the lovechild of Lando and Carlos. Also, in the title I am talking about mate (the drink), which Franco loves and Alex gave him a hard time about it.

Warnings: none, simply fruitful and sweet, bad Spanish translations

"Just lost a fan, Alex." James Vowels says giggling at Alex, who rolls his eyes with the state of his sister being wowed from the newcomer Franco.

"At least now she will wear our gear. It hurt my eyes seeing her in orange." Alex responds as he tries to poke his sibling, but she does not respond.

"Do you maybe have an available work position at Franco's garage Mr. Vowels?" y/n softly says and both her brother and his boss laugh hysterically.

"Unfortunately no, although you are more than welcome to give out data pointer to both our drivers." James says before he goes back to his seat in the pitwall.

"Why don't you ask him out?" Lily appeared on Alex's side, curious as to what is happening.

"You can tell it's not in the Albon gene to be brave in matters of the heart." Y/n fires back and Lily erupts in giggles.

"I am telling you tho, you probably should go and talk to him. You have nothing to lose." She tries to encourage a very shy Albon sibling.

"Hey man, what's up?" Alex shouts with our warning and shakes hands with Franco who paid a visit at his teammates garage.

"All well, but Jesus Christ, the heat is horrible." Franco says as his arm goes around Y/n's shoulder. Her face instantly turns into a deep red shade, darker than the one of Ferrari's car.

"Singapore is worse. This is nothing. Once we get there, you will wish to be back in Baku."

"You are coming to Singapore as well, y/n? No?" Franco turns his head to face Alex's sister and her eyes soften at how calmly and sweetly he looks at her.

"I will be there. It's one of my favourite tracks." she quickly responds, trying not to flinch at the sensation of Franco's body leaning onto hers.

"Increíble! That's what I wanted to hear." Franco winks at Y/n and suddenly her knees go weak. Lily notices how she is one breath away from fainting onto his arms. The couple knew how smitten she was with Franco, but hadn't expected such reactions from her.

"Oh god, you really like Franco don't you?" Alexandra exclaims when Lily narrates the story to her and Rebecca.

"I would say so yeah. But I really don't think he is into me. He is just being flirty just like with everyone else in the paddock."

"It's friendly flirting. He even did it with Oscar on the fanzone presentation and Lily somehow got offended." Rebecca pointed out.

"Really, you have to approach him. Go and ask him to make you a matcha or mate however that drink he likes is called. I always see him with such a drink in his hand." Alex suggested and Lily thanked her for saying what she had also advised Y/n to do.

"Take our word for it. We wouldn't tell you to go for it, if it wasn't for a reason." Rebecca squeezed y/n's hand softly, reassuring her that everything will be alright.

"Okay, okay. I will go talk to him." Y/n raised her hands in a moment of surrender and the three fellow girls clapped at her finally making up her mind and finding the courage to talk to Franco.

When she started strolling around the paddock, she noticed that a bunch of photographers were surrounding Franco, asking for his input in him replacing Logan in the middle of the season and how Williams will move forward with Carlos already occupying the second seat in 2025.

As always, Franco was calm and composed, responding to each interviewer's question in full detail, without being nervous or angry. For a man who has no PR training, he handles the media part like a PR assistant himself.

The questions slowly started eating Franco alive and he was looking left and right to find an excuse to avoid them without seeming rude. When his eyes locked with Y/n's he politely walked out of the circle of interviewers, by saying there is an emergency he has to take care of back at his garage and grabbed her once more from the shoulder and moved their bodies as far away as possible from the hungry eyes of the public.

"You are an angel heaven sent, gracias!" he leaned a kiss on Y/n's cheek and if her heart could talk at that very moment, it would certainly scream.

"No worries. Say, uh, I have been wanting to try Mate for a while. Could you help me with making it?" the words come out of her mouth with major struggle.

"This is great. Of course I will help you mi hermosa dama" his hands quickly left her shoulder and grabbed her hand firmly, guiding her to his garage, where he had all the necessary equipment.

Alex, Lily and Carlos who were chatting outside of the William's pitstop turned their heads towards the direction of Franco smiling at them, whilst holding Alex's sister close to his body.

"That was quick" Alex exclaimed in surprise.

"Oh come on. Franco blurted to me by accident that he wants to take out your sister and so me and the girls tried to persuade her to talk to him." Lily explains not wanting to keep this secret anymore from her boyfriend.

"She will voodoo me outside of a seat, so Franco can keep the Williams one." Carlos joked with the couple laughing along.

Franco was shy but smart enough to not simply tell Y/n on how to make her Mate. He would guide her through it by moving her arms along with his, using as an excuse the fact that 'there are specific measurements and only I know how to show you best.'

"Do I put some sugar in it?" Y/n' turned her head around, only to be met with Franco's warm hazel eyes and puffy lips. Torture would depict her state perfectly.

"You are sweet enough, no need for more sugar." he didn't even comprehend how easily that slipped off his mouth, but it surely had the desiring effect he wished.

Y/n's smile had reached the tip of her ears, whilst her breathing had gone very rapid.

"You are good to go. Give it a taste." Franco hands her his cup of Mate and she takes a sip out of the metallic straw.

At first she grinned with how sour it was, but its aftertaste, was more sweet and cold than expected. Very refreshing and enjoyable.

"Can I have a taste as well?" he suggested and as Y/n nodded, his lips captured hers softly, taking away the cup from her hand and wrapping each other in their respective embraces.

Franco was nibbling Y/n's lower lips as soon as she started whimpering quietly with how much she was into their kiss. "Simplemente encantador" (simply lovely), moaned Franco before breaking their kiss. Both refused to let the other go away from their grasp.

Y/n's eyes were shimmering and even smiling along with her flustered lips at Franco's sudden surprise.

"I think it was high time this happened."

"If you wanted to do that, you could have said so." y/n' jokingly punched Franco's arm and he giggled loudly from his heart.

"At least now I have an even better excuse to take you out." Franco winked and leaned in once more to kiss Y/n and show her what she is about to get into when dating him.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fluff

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wchswift · 9 hours ago

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── fangs and fury

pairing! dean winchester x vampire!reader

summary! a vampire that dean once spared, appears years later as the supposed motive for the new case the brothers are working on.

contents! enemies, complicated relationship, blood, porn with plot, hate/angry sex (kind of), smut, degrading words, Insults, teasing, riding, unprotected sex p in v and more; mdni 𖤐 18+

word count! 3.8k

𝒟ean masterlist !

── english isn't my first language, so probably some mistakes.

It was a messy hunt. Simple but without patterns. Many different bodies, in distant places and with no clear clues. It was obviously a vampire, that was the only certainty Sam and Dean had. It took them a while, but once they got to the next town they thought you would be in, it wasn't long before they found you.

And that was the first time Dean Winchester saw you.

You were covered in blood.

It wasn't subtle. Your clothes were stained, your lips parted just enough to reveal a glint of fangs beneath, your breath uneven. You stood over the body of a man, lifeless, skin ashen, and eyes wide open in terror. A predator caught in the act.

Dean didn't hesitate—he raised his machete, his stance lethal. "Son of a bitch."

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp and alert, and for a second, you didn’t move. The tension between you felt electric, sizzling in the cold air of the abandoned alley. Then, just as his muscles flexed, preparing to swing, you took a step back, your voice rough but not pleading.

"I don't want to be a monster."

The words hit him like a bullet. It was the way you said it—raw, desperate, like you were fighting for something deeper than just your life. Like you were begging him to believe you.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Dean shot back, his voice like gravel, eyes narrowed.

You shook your head, frustration breaking through. “I was turned against my will. I never asked for this.”

Sam shifted slightly, lowering his weapon just a fraction. “Then why the bodies?”

Your expression twisted with something—guilt, regret. “At first, I couldn’t control it. The hunger… it was unbearable. I—I did things I can’t take back.” You swallowed hard. “But I tried to stop, I don't want to kill people! And I swear I'm better, I'm doing a good job.”

Sam hesitated beside Dean, eyes narrowing. “A good job? What the hell is this, then? Why are you covered in blood?” his voice was suspicious, hesitant.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing red across your cheek. Your gaze was a mixture of confidence and fear. “I didn't want to, okay?” you admitted, voice raw. “But he followed me here, he tried to attack me and... I didn’t have a choice!”

Dean scoffed. “Bullshit. There’s always a choice.”

Your eyes darkened, something old and weary settling into your features. “You think I wanted this?” Your voice was sharp, defensive, but beneath it was something else—something broken. “You think I woke up one day and thought, ‘Hey, I’d love to spend eternity drinking blood, being hunted like an animal’?”

Dean’s grip on the knife tightened. He’d heard sob stories before. Monsters with excuses, justifications. But something about the way you looked at him made it hard to move, made his stomach twist.

Dean could feel the weight of your stare, heavy and unrelenting. He wanted to believe you were full of it, wanted to ignore the way his gut told him otherwise.

He lifted the blade, heart pounding. Just do it. Get it over with. But when he met your eyes again, all he could see was someone who never got a choice.

“Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean didn’t look at him. He just stood there, caught in a storm of hesitation, of instincts warring against something deeper.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, stepping back. “You so much as breathe wrong, I’ll come for you,” he warned, voice low.

Your lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”

They let you go that night. He didn’t look away as you turned, vanishing into the night.

And then, for years, nothing.

Years passed.

Dean had almost forgotten about you. Almost.

Then, another case—a brutal vampire kill, bodies drained dry. It brought them back to you.

Was supposed to be an easy hunt. It was clearly just a vampire, so it would be something simple and quick. Then, someone, a witness, mentioned a beautiful woman near one of the crime scenes. Security footage was grainy at best, but Dean didn’t need a clear picture. One glimpse and his stomach dropped. He recognized that face instantly.

He hadn’t hesitated this time. He and Sam had tracked you down within hours.

When they finally found you again, you were furious. The moment you saw them, you squared your shoulders, anger blazing in your eyes. Your eyes—still sharp, still burning with that same defiance—narrowed in pure fury. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to kill again? After everything?"

Dean scoffed, crossing his arms. "People are dead. And your name keeps coming up. Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word."

Your lip curled. "I’ve been clean for years. Blood bags. Animals, when I have to. But never people. Never again."

“Yeah? Then why do the bodies keep showing up?” Dean’s fingers twitched around the machete.

You let out a slow, measured breath. “I don’t know. But it’s not me.”

Dean studied you—really studied you. No blood on your clothes, no scent of fresh kills. Just raw frustration written all over your face. He hated that it wasn’t an outright lie.

Sam, watching you closely, saw something genuine in the way you said it. "Dean, maybe we should hear her out."

"No. I don’t buy it." Dean stepped closer, his voice dropping. "We’re not taking any risks. You’re coming with us."

Your eyes narrowed. "For protection, or so you can put a knife in my heart when I’m not looking?"

"Take a guess."

A storm passed through your expression before you clenched your jaw. “Fine. But if you’re wrong, you owe me.”

Dean scoffed. “Not happening.”

The motel was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the walls. You paced near the window, arms crossed, clearly seething. Dean watched you, jaw clenched, frustration mounting. He didn’t trust you. He couldn’t. So he was here, keeping an eye on you while Sam did some more research.

"You’ve been watching me like I’m gonna rip your throat out in your sleep," you said, voice low and sharp.

Dean smirked, stepping closer. "Should I be worried?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "If I wanted to kill you, Winchester, you’d already be dead."

That did something to him. The way you said it—confident, assured, dangerous. But there was more underneath it. A challenge. A dare.

"That supposed to scare me?"

You tilted your head, gaze locking onto his. "No. I think it excites you."

The tension in the room became unbearable, thick like molasses.

Dean stood there, hands curled into fists, watching you like you were something unholy. And maybe you were. Maybe that’s why he hated you so much. Hated the way you spoke like you had nothing to lose. Hated the way you didn’t flinch when he got too close. Hated that you looked at him like he wasn’t the one in control. Hated how you were so confident and so fucking hot even though you were a vampire.

"You’re staring, Winchester," you drawled, leaning back against the motel wall, arms crossed, lips curled. "Getting ideas?"

"I don’t get ideas about monsters," Dean shot back, voice razor-sharp.

You only smirked, cocking your head to the side. "Bullshit."

Dean moved before he could stop himself, closing the distance with a fury that barely felt like his own. His hand shot out, gripping your jaw with just enough force to tell you how close you were to crossing a line.

"You wanna test me?" His voice was low, seething, full of something he wasn’t ready to name. "You really wanna see how this ends?"

You grinned, teeth gleaming like a promise. "I already know how this ends, Dean. I think you do too."

That snapped something in him. He barely registered the way his body caged you against the motel’s peeling wallpaper, the way his fingers gripped your throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. Enough to make you aware of the fact that he could crush you if he wanted to. That maybe he wanted to. That maybe he wanted to do something worse.

"You think you know me?" he snarled, face so close that his breath was hot against your skin, smelling like leather and gunpowder. "You don’t know a damn thing."

"I know you don’t want to stop," you murmured, lashes lowering just slightly, mouth curling at the edges. "I know you’re fighting it so hard, you’re shaking."

Dean realized then—his hands were shaking. His chest was heaving. His body was pressing against yours so tightly that he could feel every breath you took. You weren’t wrong. You weren’t fucking wrong.

And you were enjoying it.

Your hands slid up his chest, nails scraping lightly over his shirt before you grabbed his jacket, keeping him closer.

"God, I fucking hate you," he spat, but the words came out more like a confession than a threat.

You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips against his jaw just to feel him jolt. "I know. And yet, here we are."

Dean didn’t think. He couldn’t. His grip on your throat tightened for just a second, just long enough to make you gasp before his mouth crashed against yours, brutal and punishing. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a battle. A goddamn war.

You met him with equal force, biting at his lip, digging your nails into his shoulders. He slammed you harder against the wall, groaning against your mouth when your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer, forcing him deeper into something he couldn’t afford to want.

"Fucking hell—" He tore his lips away, panting, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to collect himself. As if he could. As if you’d let him.

You laughed, breathless. "Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got, Winchester."

His fingers tightened on your waist, nails digging in. "I swear to God—"

"What?" you taunted, voice syrupy sweet. "You gonna kill me? Rip my heart out?" You dragged your lips up the side of his throat, slow, taunting. "Or are you gonna fuck me so hard you forget why you ever thought you could resist?"

Dean lost it. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted you effortlessly, knocking over the lamp in the process, not that either of you cared. You moaned into his mouth, raking your fingers through his hair, tugging at the short strands at the nape of his neck. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding down to your ass, pulling you flush against him so you could feel every hard inch of him through his jeans. So you could rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, grinding right over where he was aching for you.

He hated you.

He needed you.

His breath was hot against your neck as he ground against you, the hard press of his cock dragging exactly where you needed it, teasing, taunting. His fingers dug into your clothed thighs, the pressure deliciously bruising. "Fucking vampire," he muttered against your skin, teeth grazing over your pulse point in a way that was nothing short of ironic. "You always this desperate, or is it just for me?"

You huffed out a breathless laugh, letting your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him growl. "Please. You’re the one who can't keep his hands off me."

"Because you’re a fucking problem," he snarled, playing with the waistband of your jeans. Moving to unbutton your pants, "And I solve problems."

"By fucking them?" you taunted, tilting your head back when he rolled his hips, the friction making your breath stutter.

His smirk was pure arrogance, pushing your jeans down with one hand. "By breaking them."

Then he kissed you again—hard. The kind of kiss that stole your breath and any lingering sense of control. His tongue licked into your mouth, messy and possessive, as he ground against you just the right way. You whimpered against his lips, and he swallowed the sound like a man starved.

"You–" He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, thumb smearing the lipstick smudged on your lips. His eyes were dark, hungry. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling."

His voice was mocking, filled with that arrogant, predatory edge that only made you hotter. You bit your lip, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes, letting the weight of his body press you further against the wall.

"Shut up and fuck me," you challenged, nails raking down his back.

His low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, you want it now?" His fingers finally dipped between your legs, slipping through the wetness in your panties he'd been teasing for too long. "So fucking needy."

You gasped as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them just right, stretching you open as his thumb rubbed lazy circles over your clit. Your head thudded back against the wall, pleasure blooming deep and hot in your core.

He watched you with pure amusement, his pace unhurried despite the tension crackling between you both. "I’m sorry, what was that?" He pressed another finger inside, making your hips jerk. "I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making."

You clenched your teeth. “Go to hell." you panted, grabbing his wrist, but he didn’t let up, his smirk only growing.

“Ladies first.”

He pulled his fingers out far too soon, bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean while keeping his eyes locked onto yours. The sight made your stomach tighten, your thighs clench.

Then, before you could retort, he was carrying you to the bed, tossing you down onto the mattress with a roughness that sent heat pooling between your legs. You barely had time to adjust before he was on you again, his body pressing yours into the mattress, mouth finding your throat.

"You're warm," he murmured against your skin, lips ghosting over your pulse, his breath hot. His teeth scraped your skin, teasing. "Too warm for a vampire."

You smirked. "Guess that makes me special."

Dean's fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, exposing more skin inch by inch. "Yeah, well… special's a pain in my ass."

Then he was tugging it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. His hands skimmed down your sides, lingering over the soft curve of your waist before gripping your hips, pinning you beneath him.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, lips brushing the valley between your breasts, kissing lower, lower. You arched into him instinctively, and he chuckled, mouthing at your skin, teasing but never giving you enough.

"You're real fucking needy, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes, hands sliding down his chest. "Says the guy who's already hard as a rock."

Dean scoffed, but you felt the way his cock twitched against your thigh. "Yeah, well, you are a good-looking pain in the ass."

"Dean," you warned, wanting more of him.

He smirked. "What? Thought you wanted me to fuck you like a good slut. Didn’t say how fast."

You let out a low, frustrated noise, but fuck, the teasing was getting to you. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just as slowly. You sucked in a breath as the cool air hit your exposed skin, but before you could say anything, his mouth was on you, lips brushing over your inner thigh, teeth scraping lightly.

You gasped, arching, but his hands pinned your hips down.

"Stay still," he ordered, voice rough.

You clenched your teeth, a sharp retort on your tongue, but it died when his mouth moved higher, kissing dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"De-Dean..." you breathed.

Dean chuckled darkly, pressing his lips to your stomach, teasing his way back up. "Now you're begging?"

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging, making him groan. "Take your fucking clothes off, Winchester."

His grin was all teeth, sharp and wicked. "Yes, ma'am."

You watched as he sat back, ripping his jacket off, yanking his shirt over his head. Revealing that broad, freckled chest. Your gaze flickered over his chest, down his stomach, tracing the scars, the muscle, the way his skin gleamed under the dim motel lamp. Then he leaned forward, letting you undo his belt, yanking it free, your fingers quickly working on his zipper.

When you pushed his jeans down, his cock strained against his boxers, thick and aching. You ran your hand over him, feeling the heat, the way he twitched beneath your touch.

Dean groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Fuck."

You smirked. "Who's the needy slut now?"

His eyes snapped open, dark with heat. "You're gonna fucking regret that."

Then he shoved his boxers down, and before you could get another smartass remark out, he had you on your back again, legs spread beneath him. His hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing.

"You ready, sweetheart?" His voice was low, taunting.

You swallowed hard, glaring up at him. "Quit teasing and do it."

Dean's smirk widened. "Since you asked so nicely…"

Then he slammed into you, and fuck—the stretch, the fullness, the way he filled you completely, bottoming out in one deep thrust.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a moan spilling from your lips.

"Shit, you feel so good," he groaned, voice tight.

He didn't move at first, just let you feel it, let you adjust, his cock throbbing inside you.

Then he pulled back—slow, deliberate—before slamming into you again, his hips snapping forward, knocking the breath from your lungs.

You cried out, nails digging into his back, but he just smirked, loving every second of it.

"That what you wanted?" he taunted, driving into you harder, deeper. "Wanted me to wreck you?"

Your breath hitched, pleasure building with each thrust. "Y-Yeah—Oh— Harder," you gasped, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

He growled, grabbing your legs and hooking them around his waist, angling deeper, hitting exactly where you needed. Your moan was nothing short of sinful.

Dean groaned, his pace turning relentless, rough, exactly how you wanted it. He pinned your wrists above your head, keeping you completely under his control.

"You love this," he rasped, lips brushing against your ear. "Love being under me, taking every inch, huh?"

You whimpered, hips meeting his thrusts, chasing that high. But before either of you could finish you reached up to shove him off you, rolling him onto his back. He had no choice, you were stronger than him, but the look in his eyes showed how much he enjoyed this, his gaze heavy with something feral as you straddled him, grinding down, teasing him with slow, torturous rolls of your hips.

His eyes darkened, lips parting in a breathless, ragged groan.

"Oh, I see... you like when someone takes control, Winchester?" You teased feeling him harden even more inside you, if that's possible.

His hands immediately gripped your hips, but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them down beside his head.

"My turn," you whispered, rolling your hips slowly, torturously, “You gonna let me have my fun, Dean?” you purred, “Or are you too scared to let me take control?”

You keep him pinned beneath you, hips rolling in slow, devastating circles, watching the way Dean’s jaw tenses, his breath coming out in ragged pants. You smirk, running your hands up his chest, dragging your nails over his skin just to watch him shudder. Then you lean down, your breath hot against his collarbone, mouth trailing lower, tongue flicking over his nipple before you suck it into your mouth. His hips jerk up involuntarily, thrusting into you so deep that a moan rips from your throat.

You laugh against his skin, tightening your grip on his wrists where you still have him pinned. "Sensitive, huh?" you murmur, dragging your teeth lightly over his flushed skin before sucking a mark into his chest.

You grin, sitting back up, letting his hands finally break free from your grip, your hands bracing against his stomach as you lift your hips, just enough to make him feel the loss—before slamming back down.

Dean groans, head pressing back against the pillow, his hands twitching like he wants to grab you, to take back control, but still not reaching you.

You roll your hips again, slow and deep, dragging out every inch, making sure he feels everything. He’s unraveling beneath you, every muscle in his body pulled taut.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, his hands instantly gripping your thighs, eyes locked onto yours as you moved, rolling your hips just right, making him curse.

You smirked, leaning down, pressing your lips against his jaw. “You taste so good, Dean.”

His fingers tightened like he was resisting the urge to flip you back over. Your lips danced across his throat, teasingly grazing his pulse with your teeth, leaving him momentarily frozen in place. With a deliberate slowness, you traced your tongue over his skin, mocking, teasing, sending shivers down his spine.

“What’s wrong, Winchester?” you murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Scared I’ll bite?”

Dean’s breath caught. His hands dug into your thighs, his hips snapping up into you, deep, hard, desperate.

“Jesus,” he hissed, his voice sounding completely ruined, his control snapping. “Do it.”

You moaned, grinding down harder, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, sucking just hard enough to make him groan.

Dean’s hands shot to your waist, slamming you down, setting a pace that had you both falling apart.

It was filthy. It was raw. It was desperate.

And when you finally shattered, taking him with you, the world blurred, nothing left but heat and tangled limbs and ragged, gasping breaths.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you ruined, spent, bodies trembling.

Dean let out a breathless, breathy chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Still wanna kill me?” you murmured, dragging your fingers over his stomach.

Dean smirked, his thumb grazing your swollen lips. “Ask me again in the morning.”

But in the morning, you were gone.

No note. No goodbye. Just the scent of you still on the sheets.

Dean woke up, groggy, running a hand down his face before turning to see the empty bed beside him. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he exhaled hard.

Of course.

The motel door creaked open, and Sam stepped in, glancing at the bed and noticing you were missing before raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Dean glared. “Don’t start.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

But something inside Dean twisted.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

𖤐 main masterlist.

lina's notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so long that I'm happy to finally post it, I'm really nervous because I don't know if it turned out how I expected... But I hope you like it and give me feedback on what you think pls <3 I will probably write a second part soon, if you guys like it 👀 I wanted to especially thank @blossomingorchids who read the beginning and helped me, thank you sweetie 🫶

tagging some people I think would like: @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bettystonewell @rositaslabyrinth @multiversefanfics @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @freeluigihesbae @bejeweledinterludes @jaredpadonlyyyy @littlesoulshine @sunsbaby @soldiersgirl @losers-clvb @deansbeer @starzify @h8aaz @vmiina @figthoughts @maddie0101 (I need to make a decent taglist lol, let me know if you want to be added or remove)

divider made by @elleisdesigning <3

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester #dean supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x fem reader #jensen ackles #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester 🪽#vampire reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x vampire!reader

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zzombarina · 2 days ago

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Hello!~ I saw your request for asks and I must say I’ve been dying for Frank castle x reader or y/n or just like headcanons what not.. whatever you want! But specifically I saw your interest in ballet similar to mine so I couldn’t help but think of like Frank castle x ballerina. Like maybe he sees her through the windows of a studio, they could be neighbors? He could notice how light she is on her feet so he often doesn’t hear her coming.. stuff like that yknow?

Thank you!

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH! Ballet for me right now has been so hectic like literally spring DOUBLE show is hell. This is mainly gonna be headcannons/ how they meet! hope this is okay

♡Lets say Frank is your apartment neighbor. It's small, but cozy and god knows its a good price for a NYC apartment. The apartment below yours was vacant, so you could practice your jumps and leaps at a reasonable time. Frank could hear like a damn cat. He could hear the smallest of thuds, he wouldn't mind though since to him it only sounded like walking a bit more heavily once every couple seconds.

♡One day he would hear music coming from your apartment, classical. Frank didn't know the exact song but it sounded familiar. He liked the sound, eventually the music would be comforting for him just like silence. Though it made him more curious about his neighbor.

♡You two would see each other in the hallway of your apartment, usually when you were leaving. Your hair in a bun with your rather big bag slung over your shoulder. Frank and you would exchange "Hi's" and some times "how are you's". It was simple, you liked it, Frank liked it but sometimes he wanted a little more, so did you.

♡A cloudy day, one that would most definitely bring rain later, Frank stood outside some big company building, big window that he was leaning on instead of looking in. The rain started pouring down, Frank had cover though over the buildings bridge that led to the building across from him. Frank didn't want to be a creep, but he accidently peered in. Seeing ballerinas in the center of the floor, leaping, jumping, and one turn. But with that one turn he got a glimpse of your face. It was as if a lightbulb popped over his head, being pulled out of his thoughts as he saw the bus pulling up to it's stop. Frank hated public transport but his whole ride back he would be thinking about the grace you held yourself with.

♡One day Frank would be in his apartment, cleaning off the barrel of his gun or anything to keep him busy before he heard banging coming from your apartment. If it was any of the other tenets in the building he would just be annoyed by it, but this was your apartment and it sounded like a damn massacre. Or maybe you were just nailing a new damn shelf in but he would much rather he do it for you then potentially having you hurt yourself. Quickly getting up and knocking on your door. He heard shuffling then your door opened. "Oh! hi Frank- i'm so sorry I can cut the noise-" you started to apologize but Frank was just happy you were okay. "No, you're fine sweetheart- you need help with anything?" Frank said leaning a bit more into the conversation if to convince you to let him help. The question made you perk up, grabbing your pointe shoes that you had set down before opening the door off the table and holding them for Frank to see, which only made him raise an eyebrow "Oh uh..the shank needs to be broken in same thing with the toe part- that's why I was banging them on- actually do you have a hammer?" Then your explaining would continue for an hour while Frank would ask questions to entertain your knowledge.

♡Frank would be watering the plants the older lady a couple doors down had left on windowsill near the stairs, she'd ask Frank to water them for her while she's visiting her grandkids, and of course Frank said yes. So as he's watering them, he feels a hand tap his shoulder which made him jump and turn around "oh- hi sweetheart, you okay?" Frank would blow it off but scaring Frank Castle- let alone sneaking up on him scared the shit out of him.

♡Frank would soooo call pointe shoes 'toe shoes', like i KNOW he would, everyone in my family calls them that and whenever i say pointe shoes they look at me like i spoke another planets language.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #jon bernthal #x reader #no i actually hate the word toe shoes like dude #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #headcanon

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valentine-cafe · 2 days ago

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ANOTHER 209 ASK, ITS NOT VERY SUMMER THEMED BUT ITS OKAY 😼👍

2/3

So I was listening to Rich girl (song - banger - bangerest banger, love it) and I remembered how in one of your asks, Jingìy is like: Well at least you didn't buy an entire island like someone (Rishen).

And that got me thinking that it would actually be utterly insane living with these two, even if you came from a rich family, but most of us probably dont have a rich family, so I'll just say, if you are a new in the relationship.

Like I can very clearly imagine it's like the first month, where you are trying to get comfortable with them, visiting them and ???????? what the fuck is that mansion?????? like obviously, they are CEOs but jfc, what is that.

right. big house. got it. is that a fucking water fountain??????? AND NOT ONE BUT MULTIPLE?!!!!!!!

then you see the staff, maids and butlers, chef, gardener, like ????????? hello??????????

i would bet jingìy would give you his credit card at some point in the early stages, rishen probably too, but i feel like he just used jingìy's cards, what's that saying: your money is my money and my money is also my money? 😼😼😼😼

no but imagine jingìy giving you one or two of his black cards, or hell a wallet with like premium membership cards, they have access to, random stores, spas, beauty salons, sport courts and what not, note with username and passwords, pins etc in one of the wallet pockets, etc.

like here you go, dearest, if you need more, just let me know :} (:} - snake smile 🐍) like????????? we've been dating for like a week what is this??????????? thats a fortune for like 30 of my lifetimes???????????? just handed to me?????????? HUH???????? flabbergasted honestly.

AND THE BEST PART, youre like okay yeah, yeah yeah, got it. thanks. 🧍‍♀️👍👍👍👍👍👍 and then just buying like a little snack and coffee and texting him that you bought a little treat :3 and if he wants you to send him the money back from ur bank account because you feel bad

i enjoyed writing this out so much ngl :33

if youre up for it, could you write it out in a scenario? like them getting us adjusted to their wealth and this abrupt change in our lifestyle (i feel like since i am quite introverted and sometimes need a complete break from everyone and everything, just with myself, they would just randomly buy me a house, so i can take a little nap without any distractions LOL)

thankies my pookiest of bears :333333

- 🐈 (i mean who else would spit out these abominations of requests with trillions of parts to them XDDDDD)

˖⁺. “ money honey ! ” :

﹙ rich yandere monsters x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 209 jingyi + rishen x gn reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ jingyi : snake monster ˖ mad doctor ˖ yandere character ˖ rishen : moth-spider-mantis hybird ˖ mad scientist ˖ yandere character ﹚

dating rish men should be easy, right!? until you realise just what that entails. why the hell are there five black cards in your wallet?

﹙ cws﹚: none | wc : 0.5k

﹙ receipts ﹚: LOVE YOU SM FOR THIS i neeeed people to see just how filthy rich these two bastards are

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

And they're so damn oblivious to it at first! They think it's only natural that they spoil you. After all, aren't you their lover? Don't you take care of a lover? To them it's simply natural to spoil you and shower you with whatever your heart desires, so they are quite oblivious to you adapting to this new lifestyle.

You quickly figured out what you landed yourself in during a simple night stroll with Jingyi through the city. You merely wanted to spend time with him. Hand-in-hand. The last thing you expected was for him to step into whatever store your eye so much as caught the front of. You only had to look at something and suddenly he was at the register! The first time you thought it was sweet, but the next three times? You were tugging on his sleeve and hurriedly whispering: "Hey hey that's okay! You don't have to!" All you'd receive is a little forehead kiss and a soft "But I want to."

Rishen brings you home a new treat or trinket every Friday. A bouquet of flowers, a bracelet in your favourite gemstones, a fashion line you so much as mentioned, a box of pastries you spoke about in the week. . . so effortlessly plopping it into your lap with only a request for a kiss! A kiss! After spending thousands on you!

Don't even get started on food. Not only is Jingyi an amazing damn cook who ventures to the lavish kitchen after a three hour surgery, but you're forever out trying new food. Rishen so much as mentions a new cafe and suddenly Jingyi is grabbing his car keys. Expect your week's nights to be filled with sipping champagne and eating whatever your heart desires.

What do you mean you want to pay them back? Jingyi laughed down the phone after you asked. "Sweetheart, for what? A sandwich?" He'll only click his tongue. "Nonsense. Go pay me back by getting yourself something pretty hmm? I'll be off work early."

What do you mean there's a driver outside to pick you up from work? What does that text mean Rishen?? The only text you got after was a: "dinner's ready back at the manor. Are you hungry? Your favourite's being served."

You just needed a bit of money to buy some cosmetics. You forgot your card. You're almost nervous to call Rishen up. Not because you're worried he'll ever deny you — no. Because the second you did, he transferred ten times the amount you'd need. It's a bottle of lotion! One bottle! Why do you need ten thousand! Rishen!

The amount of Jingyi's black cards you have is criminal. He just hands them to you flyers. He's on the phone and you're on your way out for a night with your friends. You'll have three cards held out for you and a mouthed: 'have a fun night, darling.' Before he mindlessly goes back to his work call.

The house has everything you could ever ask for. Why is there a cellar downstairs? Why do they smile every time you exclaim in confusion and shock?

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭

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majosullivan · 3 days ago

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So I wrote a whole ass dissertation in the tags of your post (which will be posted in a couple of days bc I'm focusing on fundraisers rn) but I wanted to do another tangent here bc I'm sooooooooo mad that lenore very probably didn't kill annabel >:( like it would make only sense in a kind of double suicide situation Or in a "I'm killing us both to save us from our fate bc they just discovered that I'm a woman and they’re gonna lock us up and I want to save you from that, but I'm never gonna tell you making it Look like a betrayal" kind of way, but then it wouldn't work narratively bc then the story should have focused a lot more on Annabel's feeling of betrayal to have a big reveal moment where they explained what was actually going on. And that didn’t happen. Annabel was immediately hopelessly devoted to lenore so I think it wouldn't make sense.

BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO FUN!!!!!!!!!! STILL BEING DEVOTED TO THE ONE YOU LOVE BC YOU IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTAND WHY SHE KILLED YOU. OR EVEN IF YOU DON'T IT DOESN'T MATTER BC YOU TRUST HER ANYWAYYYYYYY WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALLLLLLLLLLL

Congrats on the childhood friend for killing them in the most homoerotic way possible. I guess. Fuck you. I hope you at least got to have a rage fueled duel with a lenore blinded by grief. Grrrrr

(I think he's the guy who killed them bc the fact that he was even mentioned and the fact that they spent so many speech bubbles on a guy who hasn't even appeared makes me suspicious. I think we have a full season that needs to be filled with flashbacks still and I think he's gonna meke his appearance. Motherfucker. Stupid chekhov's gun coded ass.)

Up until episode 91, I always kept going back and forth on theories surrounding the idea that Lenore was the one that killed Annabel. It is such an intriguing idea but there was always something that didn't sit right. It continually felt like every time there was a piece of evidence that could shift the scale to one side, there was always another piece that would balance things out for me.

Even if Lenore didn't kill Annabel though, it appears we're still getting a similar route to 'still being devoted to the one that killed you whether you understand the reason or not' from Annabel. After all, Merry did state how it was fascinating it was that despite every reason they have given to Annabel to make her distrust Lenore, her convictions have only deepened. It is difficult to say for certain if the memories shown in episode 91 are the only ones Annabel remembered when she manifested or if there were further ones we haven't been shown yet. Solely going on what was present to us though, Annabel had memories of her death triggered for her and remembered that this girl she met at Nevermore's shores and immediately felt some sort of connection was apparently was the one that murdered her and went 'despite what the Deans made me remember, I also remember how I feel about Lenore, and how I feel about Lenore tells me that no matter what truly happened, a second life without her would be pointless'. The Deans just weren’t prepared for the endless power of sapphic devotion.

You are so damn right that Annabel's childhood friend being such a Chekhov's gun coded character. While Ira is currently my main guess for the person that killed Annabel, the detail we are given about him in episode 42 makes him stand out in such a suspicious way.

It would be one thing if it was simple established that Ira had prepared a suitable suitor for Annabel if no one manages to beat her at chess by the end of her third social season. It helps set up a time frame for Lenore's plan to save Annabel and it establishes more of Ira’s character before we’re officially introduced to him. Him being someone Annabel used to play with when she was younger? Fine enough detail to add on. Makes sense that Ira would prepare a suitable backup suitor from a family he is familiar with/already has a good relationship with. However, stating how he has been defeated by Annabel multiple times and in Annabel word's 'is terribly persistent'? Now that immediately caught my eye. It is the perfect early detail to start building the foundation that this man could potentially start causing problems/get violent if the woman he has desperately been trying to win the hand of and who was so close to being promised to him got engaged to this somewhat suspicious 'man'.

Like I mentioned, it's hard to make a further case about him given that we haven't heard about him since, but every time I think through theories around Annabel's and Lenore's deaths, I keep coming back to him in some form because it feels like he has to have some role in the future, I just don't have anything to prove it yet.

If he is the one that shot Annabel, god hoping that Lenore was at least able to shoot him before she died (ideally in the dick but I'm not picky)

#if/when this guy makes his first appearance I am going to be on such high alert #I’m working on responding to your tags right now #because you are brilliant as always and I need gush about some of the things you mentioned #and you also reminded me of a few things that I didn’t mention in the post but have been on on my mind #and I would love to hear your thoughts on them #nevermore #nevermore webtoon

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anonmousegosqueek · 2 days ago

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A nice Bug and Boo one that isn't at the expense of Soap. (Sorta NSFW?)

Simon noticed Roach when everyone else did. The man had practically jumped back into a burning building to save some important files. Price practically ripped a vocal cord in half when he was scolding him.

He noticed him more and more, Gary, his real name he later learned, had a cute head on his shoulders as Simon noticed in the showers. As well as other assets that led Simon to death glare at Johnny so he wouldn't laugh.

Fast forward a bit, and Simon and Gary get assigned a transport mission (I know nothing of the military, so have no clue if this is a real thing but just pretend!) It was supposed to be quick but the trucks engine broke down leaving them stranded for...how long did Price say? Oh yeah, like twelve hours...

Simon was decent at making bets, sometimes he lost, other times he won. And then he made the riskiest bet every on whim.

"Wish I brought something to pass the time..." Gary had mumbled, with his mask and helmet off. "We could make out." Ghost had responded, barely missing a beat.

Course he felt like the biggest idiot, they'd barely had five conversations, why in the hell would he say that!? He tongue fumbled, attempting to back track before Roach responded with a simple "Sure."

Turns out Simon wasn't the only one peeping in the showers. Safe to say they entertained themselves, content with the sore rears on both ends.

Side note: Price was unwillingly listening to them. He would rather shut it off, but it's gonna be on him if something happens to them and he wasn't able to warn the help arriving. On top of this Laswell walked in, leading to this convo:

Laswell: Hey, John I—*cut off by very obvious sex noises*

Price:...

Laswell: Price, are you listening to porn???

Price: Hoh, I wish I was listening to porn instead of these two horny fucks who are CLEARLY having a better time than I am!

Lmaoooo-

As I'm still recovering from that one ask you gave me, I'm making this a poly thing and making sure Soap gets love.

Poor Price though. He's just trying to do his job, now his boys are fucking in the back of a transport. He doesn't even bother to get embarrassed when Laswell comes in, he's literally like 'LISTEN TO THIS BULLSHIT!' meanwhile poor Laswell is a happily married lesbian who doesn't really wanna listen to two men have sex while technically on duty.

If only Price had a hot Russian pilot under his desk, am I right? >:3

Also yes, while it might seem like Ghost tops, they are literally switches and switch like the fucking switches they are.

Onto Soap appreciation-

I think one of the reasons he could barely hold back laughing in the showers is because while both these oblivious men are checking each other out and not realizing the feeling is mutual, Soap is literally in bed with both of them. He once had Simon moan out Roach's name (poor guy almost cried from guilt, Soap was just cackling his ass off). Also- after Cockroach and Spooky fuck a few times and make it official, Soap learns Ghost once moaned *Johnny's* name for Roach and had the same reaction. They both laughed over their poor pathetic boyfriend who is obviously whipped and cannot function. (And gave him lots of cuddles and reassurance)

Long story short, I giggled about how instead of a nice romantic first time or even a drunken night at the bar, it's just two idiots who are stranded and have been horny for each other for months.

#cod #call of duty #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #soapghostroach #roachsoapghost #soaproachghost #soap x roach x ghost #ghost x roach x soap #poly 141 #nikprice #john price #kate laswell

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starryschemer · 2 days ago

Text

Shattered Odds - (Chapter Seven)

Pairings: Salesman x reader, Slight Jun-ho x reader Summary: Gi-hun finds himself in a high-stakes game with not only his life, but the life of someone he cares deeply about. You. Can Gi-hun outsmart the salesman? Or will the odds catch up with him?

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, Pet Names, Strong Language, Kidnapping, Slight Smut, Dark Flirting/Mind Games, Dubious Consent (Dubcon)

Taglist: @aesthetic-winchesters @therandomofpink @cowuies Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Sweet dreams, or not Word Count: 2,033

The car rolled into the parking lot, the familiar noise of the engine kept you company and added to your thoughts. When the car came to a halt the Salesman walked out of the car, towards your side. “Are you going to get out or do I need to force you?” he said smugly. You turned and saw him. Jun-ho. He was in his car on the other side of the road, taking pictures of the Salesman’s residence. Not wanting the Salesman to notice Jun-ho you decide to reply. “Yeah sorry,” you slowly exited the car, before the driver took off. The Salesman walks off not saying another word. Following him you feel more uneasy than normal. All you could think about was what happened in the car, the way he kissed your neck, the way you enjoyed it before you smacked him. You hated it. You loved it. The elevator doors open and you both get in, to close for your comfort.

As the elevator doors closed behind you all was in the air was a silence. A still. Your arms were wrapped around your chest, refusing to give him even a look. Feeling his presence, standing right next to you. The small space felt like it was closing in around you. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice was calm. “Not in the mood to talk I see?” His tone was playful, but it was enough to make your heart race. You stayed silent. “I do wonder though, Y/N,” he said slowly, slightly leaning in, “If you hated me kissing your neck so much, why didn’t you hit me sooner?” Your hands balled into fists. Looking down at the ground. His laughter filled the elevator before continuing. “I know you enjoyed it, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie to me.” Your eyes snapped at his, narrowing them at him, but of course, he was already watching you, their eyes dark and dangerous. “I didn’t like it,” you spat out. He hummed. “Mmm. You say that, but your body was saying something else, my dear.” Your heartbeat quicked. “Honestly, you are better mute.” Having delivered that retort, he smiled. He didn’t say anything but started to move over very slowly, deliberately, and finally, his lips were only an inch away from your ear. The elevator was still going up. It was rising. However, just for this second, time stood still. “You wouldn’t have leaned into me like that if you wanted me to stop.” Ding.

Before you could respond, he walked out the doors, his steps filled with confidence. He took his jacket off hanging it up on a hook, before pulling the sleeves of his shirt up. You stayed still, your heart throbbing, your anger working a knot in your chest–and the worst of it was not what he had said, but you didn't think he was wrong.

You decided you needed space, alone, and time to think. You started walking, but just before you reached the bedroom, he stopped you with a simple command. “Shower. Now.” You stopped dead in your tracks, turning your head towards him. His voice was steady. “And if I decide not to?” His eyes flashed with a dark gaze as he took a step closer. “Then I’ll shower you. But….,” he slowly looks you up and down, making you gulp. “I don’t see the problem with that.” You stared at him for a long moment, before deciding to take the less humiliating option. With a scoff, you turned and walked towards the bathroom, knowing full well he was watching your every move, enjoying his control over you. You rush into the bathroom and lock the door with a click. Now you were finally alone. Looking in the reflection of the mirror was not much of a joy to look at. Messy hair, dark bags under the eyes, and a slight mark on your neck where the Salesman used his teeth. Turning your head away, you peeled the dress, undergarments, and heels off with your moving fingers. When you managed to get them off, you stepped into the shower, turning the knob until it streamed out at full force. “SHIT,” you yelp, the ice-cold water hitting your form, as you quickly change the temperature to your liking. The steam became thick over time, gathering around you like the voice of an old friend. It gave you comfort, warmth, and the feeling of being safe. For a moment you forgot about the Salesman, about his stupid games, about everything. Water flowed down your back, washing away any hints of anger or fear left, making you breathe out a slow sigh. You closed your eyes, leaned back, and let the water drown all of your thoughts. Then- Click. Suddenly you felt cold, a shiver running through your body. You opened your eyes and turned in the direction of the door. It was now open. Through the steam, a figure leaned on the door. Then, he came in. The Salesman. He changed his fit into his nightwear, his black boxers perfectly fitted him. His smile was the damn same, only this time he was carrying a neatly folded plush towel and a silk nightgown. “I was just bringing you some clothes and a towel,” he said smugly. He slowly walked towards the sink, leaning, eyes darting towards your silhouette with the frosted glass. “But if you would rather have me stay-” Your hand immediately grabbed the closest thing, a bottle, a shampoo one in fact, and you threw it with all the force you could. CRACK! The bottle hit his shoulder before it fell to the floor. There was a silence for a moment. Then. He chuckles, of course, he fucking laughs. However, this time it wasn’t a mocking one, it was a true laugh, deep and warm. Almost as if he found your act adorable. “Feisty as always,” he said with an air of amusement. Not troubled by what you did in the least, he placed the nightwear and towel on the counter for you. Just before leaving, he looked back once more at the glass, lingering long enough to make your flesh crawl with discomfort. Then with a final smirk, he turned towards the door. “Don’t miss me too much Y/N,” he cheerfully sang before gently closing the door behind him. Your breath felt ragged and your hands were balled up into fists. Now dare he invade your privacy like that. Stepping out of the shower, you felt the cool air play against your skin and your feet.

After getting dressed in the nightgown he provided you, you began to walk to your bedroom. He spoke.

“Already over?”

You paused in mid-step.

Slowly turning, you saw him leaning casually against the doorframe of his bedroom, arms folded, smiling deviously. He started walking towards you, slowly, savoring every moment.

“Get out of my way.” His eyes swept over your body, they were dark and unreadable. “Ah, why are you in a hurry?” he teased, tilting his head slightly. His fingers lightly took hold of the hemline of your nightgown. “It’s dangerous for a woman to wear something like this.” “I mean, I would get the wrong idea of course. But you probably already knew that Y/N, didn’t you?” You felt an anger flare up. Taking a step forward, you tried to shove his chest as hard as you could. But his big hands shot out and grabbed your wrists, yanking you towards him. You held your breath as you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to his pecks.

“Let me go!!” you shot back, struggling against him, your heart pounding. “Why should I?” You ground your teeth, your voice thick with annoyance. “You’re impossible.” He then let go of you, loving the look of anger on your face. Slowly he caressed your cheek. “See you tomorrow darling.”

You stormed down the corridor to your room, refusing to look back. Still, you sensed his gaze on the back of your head as you moved away.

Slamming the door shut, you jumped on the bed, pulled the covers over yourself, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Now the room was silent with only the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. You opened your eyes slowly, yawning, hanging onto the last moments of sleep. Lying still for a while, not knowing exactly the feeling. It felt like a blanket was wrapped around you. But there was something…wrong. It also felt oddly heavy, something solid. You blinked again, trying to clear your mind, and that is when you realized that you weren’t alone. You were lying against his chest. How did this happen? All you remember is going to bed alone. Your brain was filled with a whirl of confusion, you tried to sit up to get away from him. However, you were stopped. His hand started running his fingers through your hair, making your heart flutter for a moment. It was a terrible combination of anger, shame, and comfort. This feeling was wrong, you were still with Gi-hun after all. “What the hell are you doing?” you hissed, your voice harsher than you would have wished. His eyes opened lazily as if he hadn’t been asleep at all. That grin was tugging at his mouth. “Good morning Y/N,” he whispered, voice heavy, deep with sleep. “I hope you slept well. I certainly did.” Your pulse raced, Shoving him so violently away that you nearly fell off the bed. “But how did I-?” His hand began stroking your arm, glancing down at it. “You must have been truly exhausted. It is nothing unusual.” “I SLEPT ALONE!” “Well,” he hummed, enjoying himself. “You were the one who ended up sprawled over me.” He began laughing at his joke before continuing, stretching his hands behind his head, and looking at the ceiling. “It looked like you wanted to. Just accept that you want me.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “You sick fuck.” “Now that was mean Y/N,” he mocked, holding his chest.

After a moment of silence, he sighed and swung his legs over his side of the bed. As if nothing just happened, he announced. “I’m going to work now. No later than Seven o’clock tonight shall I return.” He began walking to his room. “I expect a sumptuous dinner, something delectable.” You jumped out of bed and paced after him. “Dinner?” “Mm-hmm. And,” he smiled very briefly at her in a teasing way "Wear something --- sexy, something that would catch my eye." Your jaw tightened. “You can't be serious.”

“Completely serious,” with a wink, he pulled his collared shirt on, slowly buttoning it up. “How am I meant to cook? Did you even bother to bring any food?” He chuckled, pulling his pants up, your eyes lingering at the sight. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve arranged for a delivery, the ingredients will be here by noon.” “Oh, so I am your fucking servant now. Got it.” He just finished putting his suit on before glaring into your eyes. “Watch your tone.” He lightly pushed past you before grabbing his briefcase and walking out the door with a grin on his face.

About two hours after he left. Around Ten o’clock, you heard a knock on the front door. He said the food would be here at noon. Why is it here so early? Soon another knock echoed. “COMING,” you yelled, racing towards the door. When you opened it, you were shocked. A small package waiting there. You wrinkled your brows at it and glanced around the hallway before picking it up. A moment later, without a word, you locked yourself away in the bathroom. You put the lid of the toilet down, before sitting, having the package in your lap. Your hands began trembling a little. What was all of this? Who would have sent this? Was it for the Salesman?

Slowly, you took off the wrapping paper, revealing a small black box inside. You caught your breath. This could be a trap, you thought. You opened it- Staring down at it in shock, your body was not moving a muscle.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, I will try and get the next chapter out as soon as possible. If you would like to be tagged in the next chapters feel free to leave a comment, you can also suggest things you would love to see in the series.

Credit for divider: omi-resources

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lemotmo · 3 days ago

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I‘m sorry to bother you, but i really need someone to explain it to me why THESE people think the way they think (that’s why i’m sending this ask to multiple blogs) I usually am very good at reading between the plotlines so to speak and i‘m so optimistic about Buck and Eddie finally figure their feelings for each other out. Then i stumbled over the strange views of some of THESE people and i‘m like HUH?

First i read ABC shut down Buddie, because of their annoying fans, therefore no Oliver/Ryan joined interviews, then TM is softly killing Buddie by the Maddie/Buck scene and during his post interview, Aisha and the cast are pretty much tired about hearing about Buddie as well and Oliver‘s last video interview with TVline showed him reacting exhausted/annoyed by the is Buck in love with Eddie question and he repeated that he is not in fact in love with Eddie. And of course the classic Buddie won‘t happen because Ryan is leaving the show after S8 and sees Eddie as Buck‘s best friend.

Yet THESE people think THAT man returned to set up to be Buck‘s happy ever after. Eddie ones again was THEIR plot device during the entire episode, Buck was ready to try again with THAT man, who at the end of the season will move into Eddie‘s house because TM is giving him more of a role than a simple love interest since he is going to be involved in the dramatic 2 parter as a pilot.

I have to admit i really don‘t get this way of thinking, even if i try very hard, i mean all these journalists suddenly writing about Buck and Eddie is not simply out of fun. That is ABC encouraging them. I still try to find the exact moment Oliver looked exhausted during that video. I cannot find it. To me TM is giving THAT man one last moment before he leaves like Abby for good and even the casual viewer sees it this way. So why are THESE people the way they are?

Ah, good question. The truth is that I don't know anymore. It is a mystery to me. They willingly choose to misinterpret every single thing on the show and around the show. They must like being wrong or something like that. 🤷‍♀️

At this point Tim could come out with an interview stating once and for all that Buddie will happen and they still wouldn't believe it. Hell, Buddie could be kissing on screen and they'd still find a way to make it about BT.

It truly is a strange phenomenon. Even the GA has picked up on the Buddie of it all. It's mystefying why Tommies haven't.

I don't bother with trying to understand them anymore. I just ignore their takes when they happen to cross my dash. I block where I can and I just don't bother trying to explain it anymore. They are too far gone in their delusion at this point. As long as they keep it all to their little corner of the internet I'm fine with it. It doesn't concern me either way. I know exactly where this story is going and I am very sure it isn't going where they hope it is.

So who cares anymore?

#buddiebabe123 #T mention #anti Tommy fandom #anti Tommies #anti L #answered asks

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meow1007 · 2 days ago

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what if I said Tatta nsfw alphabet

- I hope this is good enough!! Cause I really like him and he’s so cute but not a single bone in me wants to fuck him lmao

NSFW ALPHABET - Kodai Tatta

A - Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

So so caring and attentive!! Wipes you down, brings you water and he genuinely cannot stop saying how good it felt and how lucky he feels to have you

B - Bodypart (his favorite part of his body and yours)

He probably doesn’t have one :( Since he’s really insecure he often finds something “wrong with him” Loves your neck and hands, which is why he always kisses them

C - Cum (anything to do with cum)

Hates the mess!! Which is why he either makes you swallow it or cums inside you

D - Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)

He would love for you to take a little bit more control!! but he probably tells you after a few months in the relationship

E - Experience (how experienced is he?)

Pretty inexperienced, takes him a few tries to unhook your bra lmao, but always tries his best to make you feel good!! Which is why he’s so vocal during sex, always asks you if he’s going too slow or too fast, if you’re comfortable with the things he does to you, please reassure him and tell him he’s doing a good job :(.

F - Favorite position

Missionary!! He loves looking at your pretty face and kissing you, you almost get mad at him when he suggests to put a pillow under your lower back and you immediately ask him where he knew that from lmao

G - Goofy (is he serious in the moment?)

Most of the times he’s too lost in the moment to actually joke around, but you always find yourself giggling with him, especially when he’s a little clumsy and a nervous laugh escapes his lips

H - Hair

Definitely asks you what you prefer, he doesn’t mind either way, but he’s probably shaven since in his head it’s more “hygienic”

I - Intimacy (how is he during the moment?)

So sweet and romantic, during the first times he always asks you permission before doing anything, which he finally drops after you tell him to stop. Always kisses your forehead, tbh he kisses you everywhere, he genuinely cannot believe how he managed to get someone as pretty and caring as you and he always voices it out loud.

J - Jack off

To be honest I don’t think he does it that often, even before having you he felt a little ashamed, even if he knew there’s nothing wrong with it!! But now that he has you it doesn’t even go trough his mind

K - Kink

Poor boy definitely has mommy issues, so i’ll let you make the conclusion lmao. Also please praise him!! He just needs your unconditional love and validation. (I do think he may enjoy a little bit of degradation tho :P)

L - Location (favorite places to do it)

Definitely in the comfort of his own room!! He’s already in a vulnerable position when he has sex, why would he want to be somewhere uncomfortable or risky?? It just doesn’t make sense to him :((

M - Motivation (what turns him on, keeps him going)

Call him a good boy and he’s going to keep going until he’s overstimulated, he wants nothing more than to make you feel good, just a simple “please” will make him try his best

N - No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving pain tbh, he just wants to feel loved and the same things goes for you, he would never ever hurt you!!

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

Prefers receiving!! While he loves eating you out the feeling of his cock inside your mouth makes him go insane, sometimes he finds himself thrusting deeper by mistake but he immediately feels so bad and tells you how sorry he is!! Too bad that he proceeds to push your nose against his pelvis when he cums, it just feels too good and just he cannot help himself!!

P - Pace

Mostly slow and deep, he loves savoring the moment and wants to make it last as long as possible. Things are different when you haven’t seen eachother in a while and he’s missed you tho, gropes at every part of your body as he plunges inside you

Q - Quickie (his opinions on them, how often)

Big fan of quickies tbh, sometimes he’s so desperate and he just cannot wait until you have enough time, but you’re just as happy to indulge him <3

R - Risk (is he down to experiment? does he takes risks?)

Experiment? He’ll definitely at least try something if you bring it to the table, but otherwise I feel he’s pretty vanilla!! As for risky sex it’s probably a no, poor baby is too anxious to do something like that

S - Stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

Maybe two rounds, but if you’re not satisfied he’ll just use his tongue and fingers on you <3 Same thing for how much he lasts!! He loves taking his time with you, foreplay is probably his favorite part, which is why when he feels like he’s close if you don’t mind he just fingers you until he feels likes he’s cooled off a little

T - Toys (does he own toys? does he use them on you or himself?)

Doesn’t own them, just the thought of having one makes him blush, but if he finds out that you have something like a vibrator he’ll definitely ask you to use it a little on him, he’s just a little curious he swears!!

U - Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

Absolutely zero!! He would never, you want him to touch you and make you feel good? Of course he’s gonna do it, why wouldn’t he? Same things goes for him, please don’t tease him :((, try to deny him an orgasm when he’s close and he’ll cry

V - Volume (how loud is he)

Maybe a little shy at first, bites his lips trying to stifle his moans, but after he gets more comfortable he starts letting himself go! You’re making him feel so good of course he’s gonna whimper and moan in your ear

W - Wild card (a random headcanon about him)

Loves dry humping, just the desperation of it all makes him dizzy, also the embarrassment of coming into his boxers just makes him more aroused. If you don’t feel like having sex he’ll just beg to let him grind against you a little :(. Also has definitely fantasized about you waking him up with a blowjob

Y - Yearning (how high is his sex drive)

Tbh before getting with you he wasn’t that desperate, sure, he got horny from time to time, but after finding out how good sex can actually feel he’s down to do it whenever!! You don’t have to ask him twice

Z - Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

After making sure that you’ve been taken care of and you’re comfortable so fast lmao, preferably with his head on your chest <3

#wrote this at 3 am while sleep deprived (as usual)#so please don’t mind if there’s mistakes #also thank you so much for the request!! mwuah #tatta x reader #tatta kodai #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #aib

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luckhissoul · 3 days ago

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and now they were going to brush the whole bloody thing off, just like that. he had thought that it would actually be easy, something like this. whatever this was. that was the thing that was supposed to make it easy. that it was some nameless thing that hardly even had any life in it. nameless, formless even, drifting there between the two of them. fragile s, something that could easy fade out if they both pushed it aside now. that was the worst part. knowing it was moving out of reach even though he had never quite figured out what it was. next time he sees her it wouldn't be like this. what would it be like?

rigid? diplomatic? without any of the warmth that was there between them now? was that what this was? a warmth that seemed to spread all through his chest, tightening around his heart. that was ridiculous, he knew that was just plain bloody ridiculous. and yet it felt that way as he looked at her. as she spoke about how they must've had too much to drink. something that didn't seem to make much sense to him. because he was clear headed, he was thinking straight. not utterly sober. but he hadn't drank enough to count. she hadn't really either, had she? or was that wishful thinking?

what would happen if he were to point it out? call her a liar and tell her to face - well, face this. he didn't think he could answer that. or even entertain it. he would be right out of his head if he was going to do that. it would've been pretty ridiculous if he called out something that hadn't happened. she might end up laughing him to scorn. he knew how elayne could be, always holding her chin up in the air. no one could tell her a single thing. if she said they were drunk then he ought to just agree with it, shouldn't he? it was the safer bet.

he had never been one to go for the safe bet. always up for taking a risk, for doing something without thinking. but there are too many questions brewing in his head just then, running at a rapid rate that he can't even seem to slow down his thinking. he doesn't know what to say to her. there are too many possibilities that he could say, too many words. and yet all of them run down a track that is supposed to be closed. except one, the one where he just agrees with her. simple as that.

he wants to move towards her. that's the trouble, the reason he feels so stuck. eager to go all in in a dangerous bet. curious to see what he might get? no, but it already plays out in his head. too vivid for him. he's forced to look away from her. but he's not sure where to look. the weight of something that will never happen lingers there inside of his mind. he feels like a downright idiot, doesn't he? overthinking every single thing that he might say. the problem is he hasn't said a single thing.

he lets out a heavy breath and does something that he regrets. he pushes his hand back through his hair and gives a small nod of his head. "you're probably right." and then he makes himself laugh. why was there so much effort behind that? that should've come a lot easier. because, light, telling elayne that was something of a chore. the bloody woman just loved to be right. but there was a part of him that hoped that when he said that she was a little disappointed. even if she did insist on being right about nearly everything. the woman made him want to pull his hair out at times.

after the forced laugh and a small shake of his head he's able to look at her. not with the same certainty he had when he had approached her. determined to do something. only it hadn't been entirely what he had wanted it to be, had it? not in the slightest. "and i know how much you love hearing anyone say that. especially me." and was there more to it, singling himself out? there he goes again? with his ever turning thoughts always seeming to bump right into her. now that wasn't right. that hadn't happened before.

but he knows that's a lie. it seems to him that for a while now she's been on his mind more than she ought to be. even if it's just a gentle fluttering thing at the back of his mind. there are pieces of her that always seem to linger long after he's left andor. faded down to the ghost of a feeling that he will never be able to describe. it's not a ghost now, not a dead thing, or some light touch that he chooses to ignore. it's something raw and tender that he can't seem to shake. something that caves him in a little as he looks into those wide blue eyes.

he moves though. surprised that he even has control over himself. did she know how difficult it was to do even that? to move from the spot he was in now, closer to her than he had been. to move away and leave it abandoned and unfulfilled? what sort of nonsense was that? maybe she actually had been right. maybe he had had too much to drink. sometimes a strong drink and a beautiful woman could easily get to a man's head. it was after all a dangerous combination. one that he no longer took in part in anymore.

but he couldn't seem to place elayne in that same box. that seemed ridiculous, didn't it? that she seemed to exist outside fo everything and everyone else. she hovered there too close to places of himself that he wasn't even sure existed. it was pure and utter madness. and yet she stirred that up in him, alive and aching. he reaches to get the bottle, tossing it up just so he can catch it. he looks at her with a smile. "are you saying we're done for the night?" and he hates the drag at the end, the softness to his tone. like he's asking her to disagree with him.

Waiting took forever and she wanted to pass the time with something other than the unnerved feeling that coursed through her. She wanted to hear him say something. She wanted to hear him tell her that what was on her mind was indeed what was on his. Those words would draw something out of her and they would fill her to the absolute brink. She would fall apart at the thought. She would bury herself in the moment were he to simply give in, that would be the kind of feeling that she hadn't expected, but it was everything that she wanted in the moment.

But what would actually happen were it to happen? What would the consequences be at the end of everything? Would they still come together this way? Would there be that feeling that seemed to hang over them whenever they were alone, caught up together until morning came and relieved them of the feelings? The questions circled around her mind in the moments of waiting that refused to end. The more that she breathed the more that the moment stretched on and on, without fail.

Wouldn't him coming nearer to her change everything? She knew that it would and yet there were selfish parts of herself that didn't care. She wanted the damage that it would bring, the shake up of the consequence that would befall them. Was that ridiculous? She felt ridiculous thinking it, even allowing it to have some attention. It was a stupid thing to even be allowing herself to think, given the way that their lives were. What would he even think were he to get a peek into whatever thoughts flickered about her mind?

The silence between them, as brief as it was, was nearly deafening. Did he feel that too? That stark feeling that cycled through her without reprieve? She wanted to have him come nearer and break whatever boundaries existed there even though she knew better. He knew far better apparently. Although she was scared that maybe if he turned back to look at her there would be a different look to his eyes. He could possibly turn his back on her simply because she had edged them towards this moment here. It was too much, wasn't it?

Only he does look at her again and it seemed that the moment moved in slow motion. She was highly aware of herself. Of the way that sensation felt colliding all across her skin, the way that he breath fills her lungs, how her heart beats there in her chest. She feels hyper-aware and the echo of it is almost too much because the waiting becomes far more intense, and there seems to exist a tensity that she can't settle.

His hand catches her own and there and she isn't sure what she's meant to do. She just watches him. Not quite transfixed, but nearly overwhelmed as she keeps her gaze on him. Had he done it on purpose? This simple act that seemed to sink into her, that would stay with her once he was gone. That was the only thing that he was going to do, this was the only moment that they were going to share. But then he pressed onward and his lips brushed her skin and she almost felt like she was lost.

He had intended it. He had known what would happen. His words seemed to prod at something that shouldn't exist. They both knew that it shouldn't exist. Although he would be leaving and she would be left with the feeling alone. She would be the one carrying it while he went off and it felt suddenly painful to even acknowledge the fact that his lips had left behind a feeling that she wasn't quite likely to shake anytime soon. Did that make her doubly ridiculous? It felt that way. Would he even think of this once the moment ended? Once morning came?

Regret. He says the word and she wonders on the meaning, on the likeliness of it, on the knowing that it might descend on them both eventually. Maybe he was right although he wasn't pulling away and so she felt somewhat tricked. He wasn't pulling away from her, he wasn't putting a stop, but he's the one who spoke of regret. It felt almost as though he knew that she would be the one grappling with the consequence. She wasn't sure if it was true, but that was what it felt like.

She turned away from him then, taking in a breath as she slipped her hand from his. The aftermath of that one lone moment was almost too much. She lifted her other hand and covered the spot where his lips had touched, a burn leftover that she was sure would last far longer it should. It was too much. She was putting too much on this one moment and she knew it. He would find her overdramatic rather than ridiculous. Isn't that what Aviendha called her at times? She delved far too much and came up from it far too emotional?

"I think I drank too much." She used her covering hand to brush across her forehead to ease the breathlessness that she felt. She let out a small laugh before she looked back at him over her shoulder briefly, just a quick glance. She tried hard to make it seem lighter than anything. She wasn't going to ruin something. That's what this could lead to, wasn't it? Eventually moments like these, if they kept happening, would ruin whatever dynamic they had together. "You probably did too. I thought you could hold yours?" A joke. Hardly funny and thoroughly choked but it still came out.

Although the question of why it happened remained. Why did they come back here once in awhile? Why did they feel the need to continually spiral towards moments like these when the quiet settled in? Elayne was uncertain but she grasped so hard for these moments that proved she wasn't alone. That proved that this was more between them than simply a Queen and a General. She took down a hard swallow and ran from the answer that blared as brightly as Saidar did.

#v; when you're standing in the shadows #agoldenlily

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