#so now I’m like... where does this leave me? what does it mean if I’m not all that attracted to the one man to keep me attached to the idea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anadiasmount · 3 days

Note

u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3

no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: request above!

wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.

you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.

everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.

“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.

“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.

“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.

“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.

you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.

jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”

“hate you? why would i hate you?”

“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.

hate you? that’s impossible.

“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.

“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”

“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.

“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.

“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”

you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.

he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.

jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.

“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.

the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.

your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.

you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.

you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.

you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.

a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?

the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.

“you’re lying to me…”

“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”

“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.

“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”

“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”

“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.

“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.

“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.

“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.

“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.

“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.

two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham smut

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aurasplanet · 2 days

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PATHETIC COWBOY

warnings :: both are 18+, sub!carl, riding, piv, mommy kink, manhandling, humiliation, nipple play, teasing, begging, overstimulation

carl grimes x fem!reader

denise was a gift, truly. she saved many lives which proved a lot about her. but she needed help, and you along with a few others volunteered to be her medical assistants. you were the only one your age however, it kind of boosted your ego. learning all of this and helping people so young.

you dealt with patients nearly every day. it was typically older people, with he exception of one boy, one around your age. you got a glimpse of him around alexandria, you knew he came for check-ups and cleanings for his eye. he’s cute, but you’ve never gotten lucky enough to be the one to help him.

but when you see him, he’s always looking at you first. and if you’re not being too cocky, he seems like he’s trying to get your attention. but his lack of experience in the flirting department leaves him failing ninety percent of the time. but that only drew him to you more; how pathetic he was.

today is a particularly short-staffed day, meaning denise had gone on a run and you as well one other intern were the only one’s in the infirmary. even that lasted a short while, due to the lack of patients today your coworker decided to call it. checking with you before leaving you to the rest.

there was only maybe two hours until sundown, which is when denise should be returning. then you could go home. so you didn’t mind being left there, especially at the rate of, well, no patients today.

you make your way to the bag you bring every day, whipping out the comic you bring in case of a slow day. you sit where denise usually does and let yourself get into it. your hands mindlessly go to the stash of snacks in your bag before you’re interrupted by a soft knock.

guess you couldn’t have it all your way.

you put your things away and hurry to the door in case of an emergency, opening it to see him. the cute loser, the cowboy. well you couldn’t complain now, could you?

he seems taken aback at the sight of you, stammering slightly. “where’s denise?” you frown but stand to the side to let him in.

“she’s out on a run.” he gives you a weird look, no doubt confused as that’s not denise’s forte. “looks like you’re stuck with me.” you give him a sorrowful look that you only half-heartedly mean before leading him to a bed.

carl looks down when you sit in front of him, avoiding your eyes. “no offense…” he looks up to see you quirking a brow at him, “i’m used to denise doing this. since she usually has to clean it and all… not many others have ever seen it.”

you hum in acknowledgment, nodding your head in understanding. “okay then,” you place your hands on your lap and give him a tight-lipped smile. “i think you can wait if you want-”

“no.” he cuts you off, causing you to blink at him. he racks his brain for an excuse to get you where he wants without scaring you away with the mutilation on his face. at least that’s what he thinks of it. “you can still give me a check up, right.”

the thought of you so close to him made him nervous. he hasn’t felt this strongly about someone before, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. and with your hands on him? his brain may short-circuit.

but you nod to him with a sweet smile that eases him. but it doesn’t stop his mind from running wild when you stand up to grab his files. his eye can’t help but follow your ass as you walk. that’s how crazy you make him, his brain going haywire at your close proximity. but once you’re far enough away it’s free to be tainted and lewd.

he doesn’t snap out of it until he hears you sigh, and he realizes you’re sat down in front of him again. “so, since i’m not familiar with you, i have a few questions.” he nods as a sign for you to continue. “what brings you here today?”

he laughs a little, “check up.”

you nod, “i know, i know. i gotta ask,” you look down at the pieces of paper again. “is there anything bothering you?” he shakes his head. “do you often drink alcohol or use drugs?”

he tilts his head, “how would i do that?” you shrug and adjust yourself in your seat.

“there’s beer and stuff here, and medications.” you say it like it’s obvious, which makes him turn red at how dumb he may have sounded. but the way you said it, like he was dumb for asking, it made his face heat up. “and i know no one cares about the age thing anymore.”

he just nods, your words starting to become scrambled with the more questions you ask. he half-ass responds to most of them, focused on how hot your voice was coming from your pretty lips. that’s when the next question shocks him and rips him out of his head.

“are you sexually active?”

he chokes on his spit, not knowing how to answer that. the other assistants have asked him that before. it always flustered him having to say no, but it’s much worse when it’s you. the girl he’s been eyeing for way too long. the one who makes him feel like some dumb kid, humiliating him even when it’s something small. even when others probably wouldn’t bat an eye at it. even though you may not even notice how it affects him.

not that he doesn’t like it.

he squints his eye shut, “no?”

“that didn’t seem like an answer.”

and there it goes again, little things like that. making him feel like he does nothing but sound like an idiot. it makes him want to hide away, but at the same time crawl back to you so you can make the embarrassment worse. it’s like you have him on a leash.

“no, i’m not.” his voice is barley above a whisper when he says it. he curses himself for sounding so meek at quiet. how do you reduce him to this? and so easily?

the look in your eyes is hard to decipher. it drives him crazy. did he just ruin his chances with you? did he sound like some pathetic guy? or maybe you didn’t care, and this is just some one-sided attraction and you’re weirded out by his behavior. at least you can’t see into his slutty mind.

“have you ever had sex?” he blinks confusedly at your words,

“the… the other assistants never asked me that-”

“but i am.” again you’re saying things so matter-of-factly it has him curling into himself a little. mostly to hide the ever growing problem in his pants. “answer.” he merely shakes his head, leading you to grab his chin with your hand. you’re standing up now, towering over him while he looks up at you wide-eyed.

“no.” his voice is so breathless, his pupils blown with lust. he tongue darts out to wet his lips, is he finally getting you how he wanted?

a smirk rises on your face, your hand trailing from his face to his bicep. your eyes stay on his, silently challenging him to look away. you lean closer, lips close to his before you whisper, “do you want to?”

the weak ‘please’ he lets out is all you need to press your lips to his. it’s harsh and rushed and has him whimpering. he’s hardly even kissed, and that was only once. honestly, you could tell. but the inexperience was what drew you to him.

you pull away to push him down. your actions caught him off guard, leaving him to fall clumsily with a huff. he doesn’t get a lot of time to register anything when you’re grabbing him harshly by the collar and pulling him into another rough kiss.

he whines against your lips, one hand coming up to your left breast. you swat it away, separating from his lips again to glare down at him. “you don’t get to touch unless you ask.” he lifts his head to give you an incredulous look before letting it fall back down. his hat folds in the process, and you swear you hear him mumble something.

“what was that?” you give him a look that just dares him to ignore your question, to disobey and see what happens.

he grimaces, “it’s stupid, it slipped out-” you pat his cheek, harsh enough to leave a little sting but not enough to hurt him. the action has his hips bucking up, he’d never been treated this way. he didn’t know he’d like it so much.

you grab his face again, “say it.”

“mommy.” his face scrunches when the word leaves his lips. of course, why aren’t you surprised? you laugh at him, watching as he attempts to shy away from you. the grip you have on him is stopping him. could he overpower you if he wanted? definitely, but would he?

“you’re pathetic, cowboy.” your lips go to his neck, nipping and sucking at his skin.

he whines, “don’t call me that.” you don’t even look at him this time, opting for your left hand to go to his chest. you give a harsh twist to his nipple, laughing when he yelps.

“didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.” you smirk, letting your thumb run soothingly over the bud though his shirt. you hum, “physically, that is…” you run your hand down, stopping at the hem of his shirt. “i see how you act when i humiliate you in front of your little group.”

his breath picks up when your hand slides up his shirt, running along his abdomen. his pretty skinny, slightly toned from all the running and fighting he’s done. “mommy,” he whines out again, grabbing onto you in a way that’s pleading you to go further. to give him more.

you squint your eyes at him, “stop rushing me.” he goes to speak but just shuts his mouth, watching you with a needy, obedient gaze. “you’re gonna take what i give you, got it?” he nods quickly, his eye widening for a moment.

“i-i mean, yes. yes mommy, i got it.” you hum and slide his shirt up, muttering a ‘good boy’ under your breath. you trail kisses along his skin, starting above his jeans and stopping when you get to his chest.

you can’t help but smirk when your tongue hits his nipple, the way he flinched from sensitivity, you couldn’t help yourself. you listen to his whimpers get louder and breathing get heavier and more rapid with the more stimulation you provided to one side. so you switched, and the noises started all over again.

you glance at his neck, pride filling you at the sight of purple-red marks all over his skin. they went down to his collarbone, then more on his abdomen. some so others could see, some so just you can see.

“please,” he pants, leading your hand down to the tent in his pants. he hisses when you start to palm him through his jeans.

“please what?” you can’t even hide the amusement in your voice, it makes carl groan and shut his eye tightly.

“please mommy.” he breathes heavily, watching your hand travel to his zipper. “more.” you chuckle darkly, unbuttoning and tugging the fabric off his legs. he swallows thickly as he watches you play with the waistband of his underwear.

“you just keep begging and begging.” you tsk and shake your head. in reality, you love it. but you can’t pass up this opportunity. “you’re that desperate to get your dick wet?” you take his silence as an excuse to pinch his nipple again, smiling when he cries out.

carl sighs, brushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “yes. okay, yes. just please, mommy.” his eye is slightly watery and he looks dazed and still rather confused on what to do. he gasps when you slide his underwear off, the cold air and how close your hand was ripped a moan from his throat.

you stand up, causing him to whine at the lack of contact. but the complaint he was about to dish out gets caught in his throat when you lift your shirt off. your work clothes hid the body you had underneath, which seemed so perfect to him that it felt criminal he hadn’t seen it until now.

his eye stayed on your body as you stripped down, watching you saunter off before coming back with a condom in hand. his eye widens and he looks at you hungrily, “do we have to?” you laugh and sit yourself on his lap,

“do you ask dumb questions on purpose?” carl purses his lips and stays silent, but you feel him twitch against your thigh. “you’re such a fucking loser.” you press your lips to his before he can speak, swallowing the whine he lets out at your crude words.

you’re suddenly taking your time, slowly sliding the condom over his cock. of course you pick now to tease him, he can’t help but squirm. “hips?” he asks dumbly, hovering his hands over your hips.

“are you asking to touch them?” he nods, causing you to scoff. “you’re already all dumb and i haven’t even fucked you yet.” his hands grip your hips, sliding your cunt over his length.

“then do it,” he whines out, letting his head fall back. “please, mommy.” you sigh, lifting up your hips and lining him with your entrance. you sink down on him slowly, adjusting to the feeling and wiggling your hips. all the while he’s a mess, trying to keep his noises as quiet as he can — which is still quite loud, not like you’re complaining.

you lean down to his ear, “you sound so pathetic.” you laugh, your breath hitting his skin causing him to shiver. your wiggling turns to grinding, which turns to bouncing. it left him a mess, gripping onto your hips like you’d disappear if he didn’t. he couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers of ‘mommy’ leaving his lips.

he lets his head fall into your neck when you tell him how loud he’s being. that laugh you let out every time you embarrass him is hypnotic. it’s like it commands his body to let go and fully be at your mercy. it leaves him feeling even more embarrassed, as he’s fought off being the small, inferior one. but the embarrassment you cause is good. it’s so bad and humiliating but it leaves his cock throbbing in his pants every time.

“i can’t,” he breathes out. “i can’t hold it. ‘have to-”

“hold it.” you snap, tangling your hands in his hair to pull his head back. you look him in the eye, “or you’re going to go again. and again, and again if your pathetic dick betrays you. you’re going to make me cum too.”

he nods frantically, letting his eyes fall to where your bodies connected. that was the wrong move, the sight alone had him cumming without even trying. you watch with an amused look at his face, scrunched up in a silent moan. his body shook and his grip got tighter before his arms fell.

he pants heavily, slowly lifting his head to look at you. “sorry mommy.” he purses his lips, unsure of whether to use the name or not. he grunts when you slide off of him quickly, too quick. you laid beside him and tugged his body on top of yours.

you took note of his dazed look, erratic breaths and flushed face. he was so dumbed down, but you couldn’t have him thinking mommy’s a liar?

“cmon,” you nudge his side with a laugh. his glazed over eye meets yours with confusion. “aww, you didn’t think i was serious.” you coo, running your thumb over his cheek. “i’ll use you as my own sex doll until i get what i want.”

his face flushed a deep cherry red, but he gets the message. and even though he’s so fucking sensitive, and so dumb, already unknowing of what to so, he slides into you again with a hiss. his thrusts are erratic, messy, and fast. you can’t help but giggle, causing carl to grimace. he couldn’t tell when you were laughing out of joy, or if he was doing something dumb again.

“mommy please, quick.” his rushed voice gave away his approaching orgasm. his face buries into your neck, lazily biting at your skin. “can i touch?”

you hum, letting out a moan when he hits a certain spot. but he’s so far gone he misses it, unlike before when he would’ve taken notice of anything that made you feel good. “touch where?”

he breathes out, letting his head come out from its hiding spot to watch what he’s doing. he shakily trails his hand down your body, landing near your clit. “here?” you move his fingers so they’re in the right spot, muttering something about how dumb he’s being. he feels his face heat up and he swore he could cum from your remarks alone.

he circles his fingers, starting slow but eventually speeding up to match the speed of his cock inside you. he whimpers, watching as he pumps in and out of you in awe. he looks up at you, using his free hand to hold onto your waist. “close, mommy? please tell me you’re close. i can’t hold on and i can’t go again.”

he babbles into your ear, losing his composure completely. he nearly screams out a ‘thank you’ when you tell him to cum with you, his hold on your waist near bruising as he does. he can’t even move, slumping down onto your body. his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

he hears you chuckle, and he curses his body for reacting the way it does. but all you do is grab his hat, placing it back on his head from whenever it had fallen.

“there you go, my pathetic cowboy.”

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calaisreno · 2 days

Text

On My Own

717 words / Prompt: Fall

“Your word against his,” John says.

Sherlock shakes his head. “He’s been sowing doubt into people’s minds for the last twenty-four hours. There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that’s to…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence; he has that thousand-yard stare that means he’s working something out in his head.

John knows that look. Sherlock is about to ditch him, go it alone.

“Sherlock?”

His posture changes, minutely. Steeling himself. “Something I need to do.”

“What? Can I help?”

“No. On my own.” He begins to walk away.

“Wait.” This is the beginning, he thinks, the part where Sherlock does something desperate and stupid because he thinks John is too slow to grasp the situation. Or too moral to make the choices Sherlock has narrowed down.

Sherlock stops walking. John can tell from the slant of his shoulders what’s about to happen.

“Don’t.”

Sherlock’s head drops, resigned, and then he raises it again. His posture is that of a man standing on the gallows. “There’s nothing you can do, John.”

“Sherlock. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He turns and faces John. “I’m a fake. Remember that.”

“No— what? You’ve got a plan and you’re not telling me because you’ve decided there’s only one way out of this and I’m not going to like it. You think I’ll try to stop you, or that I’ll screw things up.” Voice shaking, he clenches his hands into fists at his sides.

Sherlock refuses to meet his gaze. “John, I can’t. Just remember, whatever you see will be fake. You’ll hate me for what I do, the things I say, but you must not stop me.”

He takes shallow breaths. “Does Mycroft know?”

“Yes.”

“You trust him, but you don’t—”

“I trust you. But you can’t know. Not until…” Grimacing, he closes his eyes.

Resignation pushes all the air out of John’s lungs. “How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take me with you.”

“You have to stay. Something I need you to do.”

“Anything. Please, Sherlock. I’d do anything for you.”

Sherlock looks down at him, his eyes sad. “Don’t die, John. Whatever you think, stay alive. Trust me. Will you do that for me?”

“Please. Don’t leave me. I can help.”

Sherlock’s eyes are wide, terrified, shiny under the street lights. Bending down quickly, his mouth near John’s ear, he whispers so softly that John isn’t sure he’s heard right. “Wait for me.” Then he kisses John, just a quick press of lips. “Don’t die.”

Straightening, he walks away quickly.

John stares after him.

Sitting in his chair that evening, he replays the events of the day. Over and over, he sees Sherlock on the roof of the hospital, phone to his ear.

He sees him fall, coat flapping. Sees him die.

The bicycle that hit John, stunning him for a moment, until he got up and ran towards the hospital.

There were people, holding him back, pulling him away.

He plays back Sherlock’s words: I’m a fake… tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.

No. He will never do that, never deny his friend. Sherlock can’t expect that from him.

It’s a trick. Just a magic trick.

He hardly dares believe it. What would it take to fake a suicide, a fall of four storeys, in a way that would convince anyone who was watching?

He replays the memory, the sound of the impact, the smell of blood. On his own, even with his doctor’s eyes and instincts, even with battlefield experience, he would believe he’d witnessed a suicide.

Whatever you see will be fake.

And he begins to see what he wouldn’t have seen if Sherlock hadn’t said trust me.

Magicians use distraction to do their sleight-of-hand. The bicycle.

Magicians use props. Blood, enough to be convincing.

Magicians have assistants. Sir, you have to let go. Come away now…

The chair opposite him is empty, but he addresses it as if its occupant were there, waiting for him to catch on. “You’d better have a bloody good reason.”

He gets up from his chair, rubbing his eyes, carding his hands through his hair until it stands on end. “And you’d better come back, soon. If you don’t, I’m going to have words with your brother.”

***

Read on AO3

#mayprompts2024 #fall #reichenbach fall day #bbc sherlock

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pinkandlilacroses · 16 hours

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Angel - Paige bueckers

part 6

• summary {in which an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

• warnings {angst, it gets cute at the end tho}

averys pov

“avery why cant we tell them” azzi yells, this has been our third fight this week about this topic

“azzi you know why we cant” i say, sternly

“no i dont, thats why im asking”

“azzi, bellas in the other room. shut up” i say

“ok, fuck you” say says, walking out

azzis pov

azzi

- u home

paige

- pls dont come

- stay with avery please

azzi

- im coming

fuck paige has been weird lately, and she wont tell me

its definitely something with bella

i don’t know how bella doesn’t notice

paige is in love with her

“azzi what did i say” paige says, yelling, tears flooding her eyes and the neck of her shirt

“paige whats happening” i say, genuinely concerned for my best friend

she begins wailing. i’ve never seen her cry like this before

i quickly wall up and embrace her

“i fucked it” she says, barley getting her words out

“i want her and ill never be able to make her mine” she continues

“bella?” i question

“yes” she says, raising her voice

“im calling her”

“no, azzi, no, please don’t. please” she says, pleading, her voice growing louder

“paige, you need to talk to her. i’ve never seen you like this before” i say, authoritatively

“she hates me”

azzi is calling bella

“hey bella”

“hey”

“can you come over”

“yeah ill come now”

call ended

“paige this is a good thing, you guys need to talk”

bellas pov

i know this is about paige

id be lying if i said i was fine about this situation

i’m reality, i’ve been crying. everyday. at any given opportunity

i dont have any resentment towards paige, even though i definitely should. i mean, what she did was fucked

and she never explained herself, all she could say is “i cant do it” like what the fuck does that mean

knock, fuck i should leave

knock, i hate her

knock, no i dont

“hey bella” azzi says, bringing me into her embrace. i know azzi and avery are dating, but they cant tell anyone because avery cheated on jake with azzi, and she hates what she did. but she truly does love the girl, cute. i hate love

“paige is in her room”

walking towards paiges room, nerves surprisingly aren’t present. i felt calm, normal

“who is it” paige yells, across the door

“bella” i say, yelling back

paiges pov

“shit shit shit” i say to myself, i look awful. i didn’t think she would actually show up

i’ve been crying for what feels like years, and i finally can get everything off my chest. but i’m more terrified than ever before

she opens the door. fuck

“hey paige” she says softly, i cant bear to look at her. i dont want to see how she has effected me

“paige look at me” she says, sitting down next to me, leaning over. hand on my knee

i look at her

shock plastered on her face

she says nothing, bringing me close and wrapping her arms around me, protectively

“im so sorry” i say into her chest

“paige its ok, im not mad”

“yes you are, i fucked up” i say, tears beginning to form again

she moves so we are face to face, her laying on top of me

“you dont know how bad i want you bella, but i’m, i’m scared” i say, i’ve never been this vulnerable with a girl before. i feel weak

“paige its ok, theres no pressure” she says, reassuringly

“i know you dont feel the same, thats why ive been so down”

“how do you know, paige” she says, sternly. contrasting her previous tone

“it’s obvious” i say. is it?

“no its not, i want you the same amount that you want me” she says, staring intently into my tear filled eyes, that are forming once again

“really” i say, genuinely confused

“yes” she says, slightly laughing

this cant be real, how, what, when, where, why.

after everything i’ve done, she still likes me?

“paige, you there” she says, commenting on my spacing out

“are you sure” i say, coming back to reality

she responds by gently pressing her lips to my own

this kiss was different than any others i’ve experience, its sweet, loving. reflecting of how i feel about her, and i guess how she feels about me.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn #azzi fudd

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whipitgod · 20 hours

Text

Totally Normal, Non Romantic Bro Moment

Dean x Castiel

oneshot - wc: 2k

summary: Dean is the only one who doesn’t realize he’s dating Cas

warnings: blatantly and boldly ignoring canon, a little crack-ish as per usual, some light swearing and little bit of spice (they kiss but that’s it)

a/n: Thank you for all the support on the last few oneshots!! this is the first time i’ve ever written for destiel or supernatural so it might be a bit ooc! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Sammy!” The sound of his brother calling his name makes Sam sit up quickly, having dozed off whilst trying to finish a book he had started ages ago but could never manage to find the time to complete. He pushes himself off his bed with the intent to meet the older Winchester in the kitchen where he heard him yelling from. Before he even has a chance to reach for the door handle the door flies open, Dean entering the room with a startling amount of aggression.

Sam puffs out an irritated breath at the man's behavior, “Of course you can come in-” he pauses slightly taking in the flustered nature of the hunter now pacing back in forth and grumbling quietly to himself; a look of concern crosses Sam’s face, mouth turning down slightly, “Are you alright, did something happen?”

Dean’s head snaps towards him then, looking at him for the first time since he had burst into the room, “Yeah, i’m fine man,” he gets a look on his face like he tasted something bitter before rushing out an agitated, “no actually i’m not fine.” Sam tilts his head slightly at this urging Dean to continue with a wave of his hand; Sam notes that the man has yet to stop pacing.

“Bobby said someth’n weird earlier that's got me thinking,” Dean hesitates for a moment almost like he’s second guessing even bringing it up, “he uh,” another slight pause, brows furrowing, “he seems to think i’m dating Cas.” he takes a deep breath after he says this, a common action when he gets too worked up over something.

The younger Winchesters' brows crease in confusion at this, Dean taking this as a sign that his brother finds the notion absurd lets out a relieved breath. His relief is only short lived, Sam shaking his head slightly before questioning, “Is that it?” Dean's expression hardens, agitation returning and causing his shoulders to tense.

“The hell do you mean ‘is that it’, this is a big deal!”

Sam lets out a small laugh at his brother's frustration, “Was he not accepting?”

The anger leaves Deans features, a look of confusion taking it’s place, “The fuck does that mean?”

“Was he not accepting of your relationship with cas?” Sam now wears a look of confusion mirroring Dean’s. The older man stops pacing at this question, brows furrowing even further than Sam thought possible.

“What relationship?” The anger gone from Dean’s voice, tone now mired in confusion.

Sam looks at his brother like he’s lost his mind, “The relationship you have with Cas,” he searches Dean’s face for any sign that the man is joking, not finding any he pushes on, “You guys have been dating for months.”

Dean seems to short circuit at this, blinking several times before letting out a disbelieving scoff, “I am not dating Cas,” a nervous laugh escapes him, “That’s insane, I knew you were crazy but not that crazy.”

Sam stares blankly at him and Dean rushes to continue, “I mean the idea of Cas and I dating is laughable,” another nervous laugh accompanied by a growing redness in his face, “Why would you even think that?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the question, a sharp bark of laughter leaving him before he can stop it. He tries again to find any sign that his brother is joking but the man's expression is steely, jaw clenched in frustration, “Oh wow, you’re serious.” At this Dean lets out an angry huff opening his mouth to start speaking before closing it again, teeth grinding together.

“For starters, you guys act like an old married couple all the time,” Dean opens his mouth to disagree but Sam cuts him off, “you guys also frequently gaze into each other's eyes for extended periods of time.”

“We do not!”

“Just last week you guys had a whispered discussion before staring into each other's eyes for five minutes,” Dean’s expression turns contemplative, “five minutes might not be accurate actually,” Sam thinks for a moment, “It was probably longer, I didn't stand around to time it.”

Dean releases an irritated noise before rushing to defend himself, “We were having a moment!” Sam’s expression turns amused at the sentence and Dean jumps to amend it, “A bro moment! A totally normal, non romantic bro moment!”

Sam quirks a brow at this, a teasing smile threatening to overcome his features. Dean lets out another frustrated sound, “It’s a normal dude thing, it’s what pals do!” Sam kind of wants to let Dean continue floundering, if only to see how many synonyms he can find for the word ‘bro’; he decides against it, deciding to put Dean out of his misery.

With a gentle sigh the younger man pushes himself up so he’s sitting fully upright, “Bobby and I aren't the only ones who think you guys are together,” He thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'm pretty sure you are the only one that doesn't think you guys are dating.”

Dean is quiet at this causing him to continue, “I don't know man, it's something you should think about,” Sam stands and walks over to the door with the intent to find something for dinner, “maybe you should talk to cas about this.'' With that he pulls the door open not waiting for the other man to respond, and without sparing another glance in Dean’s direction he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Dean stands motionless for a few minutes before managing to snap himself out of the daze the conversation had left him in. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he makes the short trek to his own bedroom; Closing the door behind him and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he lets his mind wander to memories of all of the interactions he and Cas had had recently.

Sure they were close, their relationship probably closer than most other mens, but that didn't mean they were together! Sure they had kissed a few times when they were both a little too drunk but that didn't mean anything! It was normal to kiss your bro when you had a few too many. This line of thinking does nothing to quell the internal turmoil he was feeling; his mind now stuck on memories of the kisses they had shared on rare occasions that were never discussed once they were sober.

Dean huffs a bitter laugh, “I don't even like men.” The phrase feels wrong as it leaves his mouth. He had never really given much thought to whether or not he liked men, but now that he was thinking about it he’s met with a startling realization, “Oh god, do i?”

He thinks back to all of the men that he had ever found attractive, the ones he was a bit too fascinated by; having written off the fascination as a friendly interest at the time, he finds himself realizing that some of the interest really wasn't all that friendly.

His mind wanders to cas, remembering all of the things they had done together that had, at the time, seemed innocent and friendly; now that he’s looking back on them they seem to be a little bit too intimate to be friendly. There was also that one dream he had a few weeks back that had made being around cas very awkward for a few days, the memory of the dream alone making his face heat up. He loses track of the amount of time he stays lost in thought, his mind spinning in circles as he thinks about the dynamic he has with the angel.

He reaches a conclusion that makes him suck in a sharp breath, “Oh god, i'm in love with cas.” It comes out as a disbelieving whisper. He doesn't know what to do with realization but now that he’s said it outloud it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

A Few Days Earlier

Dean can’t help but watch Cas's side profile as the man takes another swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey; Dean had tapped out before the bottle had even been opened, the angel needing way more alcohol than Dean could stomach to even get a buzz. The hunter isn’t quite sure how many bottles of assorted liquor cas had drunk at this point but it was clear the man was feeling the effects of them, his eyes a little droopy as if he was struggling to see clearly. Dean wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes struggling to focus as he watched the angel’s Adam's apple bob as he drank. Without realizing that he was even moving he reached up and grabbed the bottle from Cas's hands, taking a quick drink of it before setting it down in front of them.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Dean's tone is light when he says this, almost teasing. Cas meets his eyes with a dazed smile and Dean’s eyes get stuck on the curve of his lips.

He wants to kiss him. The thought doesn't scare him like he thinks it should, he supposes it wouldn't be the first drunken kiss the pair had shared; alcohol acting as a cover for the real emotions at play that Dean really didn't want to deal with.

Before he can think better of it he leans in, cas letting out a surprised noise as their lips meet before melting into the kiss. The thought that they shouldn’t be doing this crosses Dean's mind but he stamps it down quickly when he feels cas reach up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stay like that until dean pulls away slightly to suck in a few panting breaths, their foreheads stay touching as they stare into each other's eyes. Dean remembers, bitterly, that tomorrow this would become another one of the little moments that he's too afraid to discuss. With that floating around his head he leans back in with a little bit more force than necessary, their teeth clacking together as their mouths meet.

Present Day

He blinks away the memory, shaking his head slightly and digging in his pocket for his phone, he finds cas’s contact and hesitates for a moment before hitting the call button. The sound of the phone ringing does nothing to calm the anxiety he’s feeling but before he can second guess himself cas picks up.

Cas answers the phone with a soft, “Hello?” and dean feels his heart in his throat.

“I think I'm in love with you.” He had not meant to blurt it out like that, and he curses quietly to himself as he waits for Cas's response.

“I mean it would be kind of weird if you weren’t given that we’re dating.”

Dean pauses at this, a flood of emotions hitting him and causing him to let out a sound reminiscent of a gasp, “What?”

“We’re dating,” there's a pause from cas and the rustle of papers being moved, dean briefly wonders what he’s doing before he realizes what the man had said. Dean's mouth opens and shuts a few times as he struggles to find the appropriate words.

Cas continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle that Dean is having, “We had a date a few days ago,” more rustling, “we got pizza and then got drunk and made out.”

Dean is at a loss for words, he lets out a choked sound before starting to laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt. It takes him a minute to regain his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped during the laughing fit he takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah i guess we did.”

“Are you feeling alright?” The question sounds so sincere it almost causes Dean to spiral into laughter again but he manages to hold it in.

The hunter pauses for a moment thinking about the question, “Yeah,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, “i’m great.”

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mykoreanlove · 2 days

Text

Single

“Hyunjin, please. I beg you. I need you!“, you whined dramatically.

The object of your desire was standing in front of you, painting peacefully in his well lit atelier.

„Y/N, I told you already I’m not the right one for you.“

He muttered his rejection so easily, the words were rolling of his tongue without a single care. Watching him paint was one of your favourite pastimes: the concentrated look in his eyes paired with his vulnerable aura made him so attractive, so brilliantly talented. This is why you got down on your knees and begged for your life - if your exhibition had to be a success you couldn’t do it without him.

„Hwang Hyunjin, Artist of artists, please. Please, please, please.“, you begged shamelessly.

Finally, Hyunjin averted his gaze from the canvas on to you.

„Begging on your knees. Really, y/n?“

„You leave me no chance. What else am I supposed to do?“, you snapped.

He let out a deep sigh and mustered you intensely.

„Listen, your exhibition is all about love. Crazy, stupid, romantic, can’t live without you kind of love. I can’t draw that. That’s just not who I am.“, he explained flatly.

„You are the most romantic person I know, Hyunjin. You breathe love. How can you not be the right fit for me?“

He shrugged his shoulders. „I may be breathing love but love is suffocating me.“

„Aren’t you dating anyone?“

„Haven’t been for a very long time.“

„Why not?“

„Because love is not for me. I’ve seen this over and over again.“, he replied drily.

Confusion settled on your face - someone as attractive, as charming and as talented as Hyunjin was bad at love?

„Oh, I get it. You’re fucking with me, right?“, you snorted out laughing. „Good one but now is not the time for jokes, Hwang. Paint me a fucking masterpiece, please!“

Now he was the one looking at you puzzled.

„I wasn’t joking. Love is not for me, y/n.“, he said sternly.

„How can that be? You are drop dead gorgeous - how could someone possibly dump you?“, you asked in confusion.

„I’m sorry but I can’t date you anymore.“

„Why?“

„It’s just.. you’re just too pretty for me.“

„I, what?“

„I’m sorry but I can’t live like that. I’m constantly anxious because I’m afraid some girl will steal you from me. Next to you I look like a sack of potatoes and I just feel so bad. I don’t.. I don’t want to feel like that. Sorry, Hyunjin.“

„Shit, did that really happen? I had no idea people like you had it rough, as well.“, you blurted out.

„What? You think life gives you a free pass because of some pretty features?“

„I mean it normally does.“, you mumbled under your breath.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at you, annoyed by the false perception of others which he was used to.

„Okay, but surely not all girls were like that? What about your charisma? You’re so charming, girls love that!“

„This doesn’t work, Hyunjin.“

„Why not?“

„You treat me too well. What’s up with the date nights and flowers? You always listen and remember the smallest things about me. You encourage me and stand by my side and that’s not normal.

„You don’t consider that normal?“

„No! All my friends hate me because I’m living this fairytale romance and I can’t risk losing them because you’re not a dickhead like all the others.“

„Okay, now you’re just making shit up.“, you gazed astonished.

„Do I y/n? Do I?“

„Hold up - you’re telling me you got dumped multiple times because you were too handsome and too nice? Where do you even find those girls?“

Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders, he had often asked himself the same thing.

„Wow okay. I had no idea you were such a loser in the love department…“, you muttered under your breath.

Hyunjin grabbed the brush and continued painting.

„Hey wait, what about your talent? Are you telling me ladies don’t want that?“, you jumped excitedly.

„There was only one.“, he said sternly.

„One? Like the one? Like your first love or something?“

He nodded.

„So that’s it! Paint about your first love, then!“

Hyunjin stopped painting for a minute as he recalled his first love, the one he lost his innocence to.

You noticed the change in his demeanour, further pushing him to spill the tea.

„What was she like?“

He took another deep breath before he recalled those times.

„She was a visionary. Brilliant, smart, sexy. Someone who knew what she wanted. She saw the world as her canvas and herself as the brush, painting the wildest masterpieces with her whole being.“

„She sounds lovely.“, you replied.

„Yeah..“, the sadness in his voice was heavy.

„Until she wasn’t.“

„What does that mean?“

„She was in a rut when her and I got together. Not only stuck in her life but also her art. Although, those things might have merged into one. So, when she met me she kind of used me to fuel herself. To regain that spark for life, so to say. And when she had it back, she no longer needed me.“

„That sounds tough. Sorry, Hyunjin.“, you answered truthfully.

„It was tough. I had to keep seeing her every day at school.“

„Couldn’t you have switched classes?“

Hyunjin grabbed the brush again and continued painting, his gaze was set on the canvas.

„What good does switching do if she was the ambassador of art?“

Goosebumps formed on your skin as you realised what he was implying.

„Hyunjin… the one you are talking about… was that your art teacher?“

He halted for a second, not averting his gaze though.

„Oh Hyun, I am so sorry.“, you said with teary eyes. Hyunjin found himself in your strong embrace, as you slung your arms around his waist.

„You were a minor, a child…“, you cried out loud.

A sly grin formed on his lips. He was touched by your concern - concern from others was something he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

„Y/N, I didn’t tell you all of this so you would feel sorry for me. I simply wanted you to understand why I’m not the right fit for your exhibition.“

„I’m sorry I ignored you, Hyunjin. Sorry.“, you cried into his back.

Inspired by your tears he suddenly had a different idea in mind.

„But what if…“, he turned around and faced you again. „What if I give it a different spin?“

„Different spin?“, you asked as you wiped away your tears.

„What if instead of painting a love that’s common and known I’ll paint a love that’s pure even though it’s shamed?“, he proposed excitedly.

„I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hyun…“

A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

„What if the purest and strongest love one can have is with oneself? Because ever since I swore off love I lived like that. I love me. Can’t that count as well?“

Being his friend was one of the greatest joys of your life because he always managed to evolve your way of thinking, of seeing things differently.

„I didn’t even think about that…“, you admitted ashamed.

„So? Is that a yes?“

You nodded your head cheerily.

„Yes. I‘d love to incorporate your spin. I’d be honored to, Hwang.“

A sad smile formed on his lips as he proceeded painting. Even if this kind of love wasn’t the one that was written in the books, it was the one kind of love that always kept him warm even in the coldest of nights.

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banquetwriter · 17 hours

Text

୨୧ invisible scars ୨୧

this was the request sent via DM: 1.fluff

2. Johnnie Guilbert

Hey! I love your writing and I was hoping if you could do one about Johnnie Guilbert x reader where the reader has hyperesthesia and they are feeling sad because of how people don't understand her and take her condition seriously and Johnnie comforts her? It would mean a lot to me since I have struggled with hyperesthesia. Thank you for your time! xx @tacuuuu

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ Jake being a dick lol, mentions of pain, reader being sad

summary: ʚ Johnnie defends your invisible illness ʚ

Words: 950

An: so sorry I have been sucking lately I'm literally dying lol, also there is very little online for hyperesthesia so I did my very best haha 🖤

Your whole body was riddled with the feeling of pins and needles. It was numb with pain, the occasional burning sensation coming in waves across your body. It was the third and last day of Coachella weekend two, and your body was wrecked.

You had more caffeine and boos than your body could handle. It was about 2:30 and it was time to start getting ready and pregame. Your muscles felt like they were guitar strings that had been played too much.

You took a deep sigh tightening the snuggly soft blanket you had wrapped yourself in. You sat not listening to the conversations around you. “Y/n!!” Tara shrieked looking at you. You reluctantly moved your head up to look at her. She was halfway done with her makeup already and had her hands placed on her hips.

“I'm sorry Tara but I'm probably not going to go tonight. I will just crash into Airbnb,” you mumbled with a sorry expression. “Y/nnnnn!” she whined, turning around to keep getting ready. “I know I know, I’m sorry Tara.” you apologized flopping back on the couch.

Suddenly you heard the door open, you peeked out of your blanket to see Jake and Johnie walking through the door. A small part of you was so relieved to see Johnnie. You knew he would understand like he always does.

He is always there for you, his touch seemingly a remedy for your pain. You sit up and pout watching Johnnie move his way to you. Jake opens the fridge and pulls out a drink. “Hey, sweetheart,” Johnnie mumbles, wrapping his arms around you.

You sink into his touch, feeling your nervous system calm down. “Bad pain day?” he asks as you close your eyes. You take a deep breath milking this moment in. “Yeah, not sure what brought it on,” you mumbled, Johnnie kissed your forehead humming against your skin.

You opened your eyes and smiled at your boyfriend. You took in his outfit. God, he looked so damn fine. “Shit, you're looking like a smoke show,” you remark, eyeing him up and down. He rolls his eyes with a grin.

Jake walks over to the two of you while wiggling his hips back and forth. “You two crazy cats ready to have one hell of a last day?” he asks while taking a sip from his drink. “Oh, I'm not going anymore,” Johnnie says nonchalantly. Both you and Jake snap your heads towards him.

“No way Jose!” Jake says, putting his hand on his chest in shock. “What?” you ask, pulling away from Johnnie’s arms slightly. “You're in pain. You need to be taken care of today. I'm not just gonna leave you.” he said, meeting your eyes.

“Nuh-uh, you're joining us!” Jake yelled out looking at Johnnie. “Johnnie, don't ditch them!” you whisper screamed. “Y/n you're having a bad day I'm gonna be here for you,” he promised.

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words, an equal part of guilt. Your worst fear was coming true. You were dragging others down with your disability. “Dude y/n says it's fine! Just come get drunk.” Jake says encouragingly.

“No dude,” Johnnie says calmly, just shaking his head. You felt a little awkward sitting there now. You had never ever wanted to make other people suffer from what you go through. Your heart clenched with anxiety.

“Jesus Johnnie it's not even that bad. Y/n still does stuff all the time! They went on a run the other day!” Jake moaned dramatically, bending his knees for emphasis. You cringed at his words. While it was true some days you had energy others you certainly did not and this was one of those days.

Before you could defend yourself Johnnie was quick to step up. “Dude that's not how it fucking works. Not everyone's issues are visible, you know that. They are at real risk with their blood pressure being so high. So no I'm not going I'm going to stay and take care of my girlfriend ok?” Johnnie says, his eyes open wide with anger.

Jake had looked like a kicked puppy. He looked over at you with a small sad smile. You had almost forgotten you were there for a second, finding it hard to believe anyone as incredible as Johnnie would defend you like that.

“Hey um, I'm sorry y/n I swear I didn't mean it like that. It's totally ok if you need rest some days, I was being a little bit of an idiot.” Jake sheepishly admits. You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out. You shoot a quick glance at Johnnie before you look back at Jake.

You take a deep sigh before calming him down. “Don't worry man. If I could change it I would,” you mutter before standing up and making your way to your ‘bedroom’.

You sink into your bed, no longer feeling the comforting touch of Johnnie. And thankfully it wasn't long before he walked into the room. You didn't turn to look at him at all, you just let him walk over to the bed.

You hear shuffling for a minute before the bed dips down with his weight. His arms wrap around your torso pulling you into him. You let your eyes close as his comfort slowly dulls the numbness in your body.

“Thank you,” you mumble against the pillow. “Of course,” he says softly. “You will never be too sick for me. I'm always right here,” he mumbled a second later. Neither of you moved, but you could swear when you were having a better you would tell him how greatful you were.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie x you #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie x reader

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wangxian-the-zhijis · 2 days

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This is CQL only as I haven’t read the novel or watched the donghua. I REPEAT: THIS IS CQL ONLY.

Hi! So it’s been established here that lwj did A LOT of significant things that the story chose not to show.

Written in that post is: Lan Wangji saved A-Yuan and Wen Qing and that’s why he was late at the Battle in Nevernight.

There are a few more things that I want to say:

Lan Wangji spoke up for the Wens. He openly expressed that the Wens should not be executed.

For those who are saying that Lan Wangji is just as useless as anyone who did nothing for the Wens, then please shut up. Because HE DID something. You could argue that he didn’t do enough. But what else do you want him to do? Battle the Jins himself and lose his life? Point is, if you check the deleted scenes, Lan Wangji, in fact, DID battle the Jins (even the Lans!!!) in order to save Wen Qing’s life. He’s so much better than those who literally did nothing and let the Jins do as they please.

This was already stated in the linked post above but I’m still gonna put it here: Lan Wangji saved A-Yuan BEFORE Wei Wuxian died. Not after.

When he saw A-Yuan, he didn’t have the arm injury he got from the Battle in Nevernight. When he was defending the Burial Mounds, you can see the blood on his right arm, which indicates the presence of the injury he got from the Battle in Nevernight. So this means that he saved A-Yuan before he got his arm injury— before the war— before Wei Wuxian died. So for those who’s saying that Lan Wangji only redeemed himself after Wei Wuxian’s resurrection, you’re wrong. He has always been on Wei Wuxian’s side since day one.

I’ve seen people say that Lan Wangji probably didn’t have any contribution during A-Yuan’s growth since he was recovering. Wow, idk where they got that from. They must know better than A-Yuan then?

A-Yuan openly expressed that he adores Lan Wangji. When he and Wen Ning reunited, he kept talking about Lan Wangji. A-Yuan himself said that Lan Wangji is his father/brother figure, which means that HE IS a big part of A-Yuan growing up. Look, just because the director didn’t show it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Who says that a man can’t show love and affection to a child just because he’s injured?

Lan Wangji leaving Wei Wuxian at the end wasn’t uncharacteristic. He doesn’t deserve the hate he gets because of that.

Y’all hated Lan Wangji for leaving Wei Wuxian in the end. It’s probably censorship, I agree. But for me, it wasn’t uncharacteristic. I wish you all to stop being WangXian-centered for a while and think of what just happened. Lan Xichen is currently experiencing a very devastating heartbreak. I think the reason why Lan Wangji couldn’t leave with Wei Wuxian was because he wanted to take care of his brother. Y’all hated MDZS Lan Wangji for leaving Lan Xichen just like that when he’s experiencing what Lan Wangji experienced 13/16 years ago but now that CQL Lan Wangji prioritized Lan Xichen, y’all still hated him? Whatever Lan Wangji does, he always gets hated, doesn’t he?

Lan Wangji is very dedicated to Wei Wuxian but let’s not forget that he still has a life outside Wei Wuxian. The reason why he was able to let Wei Wuxian go on his own was because Wei Wuxian’s life wasn’t in immediate danger anymore. He wasn’t a target anymore since the entire world probably heard of the news already that Wei Wuxian was actually innocent. Lan Wangji had to take care of his brother. He had to take up the role of being the sect leader. And he became the Chief Cultivator, which majority of you think is uncharacteristic. I don’t really have a say about him being the Chief Cultivator but please stop limiting Lan Wangji to what you’ve seen him capable of doing. He is surely capable of growth.

FOR THE LAST TIME: THIS IS CQL ONLY.

#ah lwj my beloved #i will always defend you #the untamed #cql #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #wangxian #my useless essays #lan sizhui #lan yuan #a yuan

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t0ast-ghost · 2 days

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S3 EP8 (For The World Is Hollow And I Have Touched The Sky) welp that’s the longest title in tos and this is a long post because I was not normal about this episode

Let’s get it started:

- Immediate red alert with Spock in charge

- You think they ever held hands?

- What’s got Chapel so upset? She’s most likely right about whatever it is

- The way he kind of yells and then lowers his voice and just says, “Please, Christine. I promise I’ll give the captain a full report.” He’s not actually mad at her and he knows she’s just looking out for him but he’s scared

- Bones can’t say that he’s the one who’s dying. He can’t admit it out loud. He says that the cmo has it (not even gonna try and spell the diseases name)

- “Without me, Jim? You’d never find your way back.” My heart- oh my heart. He doesn’t want to be cut away from the crew, let alone Jim and Spock.

- Spock is standing in the transporter room like, ‘What is going on?’

- This asteroid looks like the planet where Tasha dies to the goop in TNG

- I was looking at McCoy about to beat someone up and then it was violently revealed to be a stunt double… obviously

- McCoy was fairing pretty well in that fight until he looked at that lady

- Kirk not only fighting to get to an injured McCoy but begging (he’s using his words cause he cares about him sooo much)

- Normal! Normal thoughts and feelings 🙂

- Okay I know not very relevant to anything but I’m appreciating the stairs shot

- “You will kneel.” All three of them just go, ‘okay’

- Absolutely stunning wardrobe, makeup, and hair for the priestess though

- “THEN LEARN WHAT IT MEANS TO BE OUR ENEMY BEFORE YOU LEARN WHAT IT MEANS TO BE OUR FRIEND.” Get fucking zapped, idiots

- mhm mhm

- Good thing Kirk’s not a doctor (especially a therapist) cause this man is NOT confidential

- Kirk looks so sad. Holy shit .

- McCoy’s like sleeping beauty, cause he’s beautiful… and sleeping I guess

- MHM YEAH. So UHM SPOCK JUST- he just grabbed McCoy’s shoulder to help him up. Why does this have me blushing???

- “Well we’d better get to the control room.” Is this just the normal procedure? Find the control room -> blow shit up

- McCoy immediately tastes the random substance

- he’s dead. (Edit: NOT McCoy! The random guy)

- He CHOSE to sit in the sluttiest way possible. No wonder everyone wants him DAMN

- ‘Bones listen, you’ve got to seduce her. For the mission.’

- I- she loves his stunning blue eyes

- “Is there a woman for you?” He takes way too long to answer this. How do you explain that she just met your two boyfriends

- I love her. I don’t care. She’s so amazing. Like “Until I saw you there was nothing in my heart. It sustained my life, but nothing more. Now it sings. I could be happy to have that feeling for a day, a week, a month…a year.”

- Hiding behind a pillar works…

- Spock and Kirk listening to Natira asking the god if she can have McCoy as her mate and both of them look so ready to attack

- GET ZAPPED IDIOTS

- “for me” 🥺🥺🥺

- THE FUCKING HAND KISS

- “You’re returning with us.” “Dr. McCoy I order you to return with us.” Kirk knows this won’t work but he’s desperately clinging onto any last thing that could keep them together

- “Your decision is most illogical, Doctor.” “Is it, Mr Spock? Is it really?” IM SORRY THIS MOMENT?!? are we? are we not going to talk about this? There’s no real fight between them here. It’s Spock telling McCoy this is ‘illogical’ because he doesn’t want him to leave. And McCoy’s reply is calling Spock out, basically acknowledging that he knows what Spock is saying but also challenging him to find another reason for him to actually stay :(((((((((

- Kirk’s going to cry. That long look from McCoy looks like he’s going to cry. He’s going to cry. I’m going to cry.

- After the breakup :( Kirk is in silent hurt and Spock is pouting (he’s gonna listen to Logical by Olivia Rodrigo after this)

- WOW. McCoy wasn’t sure if they’d actually leave him. I think, if I may speculate, that McCoy was expecting rejection (as a doctor, crew member, friend even) because of his illness. Then Natira wants him, and as she states, she’ll have him for however long she can. Now, McCoy thinking that he’ll inevitably get pushed aside by the people he’s closest to is testing them. It’s a win- win situation for him, right? Either Spock and Kirk force him to go back with them, proving they won’t leave him, or he stays with Natira for the rest of his days. Ideal situation… but I don’t think he actually thought they’d leave him.

- congrats on the marriage I guess

- I like how McCoy is still in his starfleet uniform… no I do not, let him change clothes

- “Starfleet command will take care of the situation.” They’re gonna blow it up.

- “An urgent call from dr. McCoy, sir.” This is like after a break up texting, ‘you up?’

- McCoy stops answering the phone so Kirk and Spock immediately beam down to the planet they’re banned from to save him <3

- That was a fast divorce. This is the second time that they’ve helped each other divorce someone.

- THEYRE BEING PUT IN AN OVEN

- If McCoy and Natira went to an event together everyone there would fall in love with both of them immediately

- The chin tilt. He looks down and she tilts his chin back up. I love them both

- “Which indicates that the flow of oxygen to each cell of your body is back up to its abundantly energetic level.” Spock says this and is basically smiling in relief (you have to see it to believe it)

- Kirk is still in support of his boyfriend’s wife

Honestly 10/10 episode. Thank you so much for this one.

Masterpost

Episode written by Rik Vollaerts

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #tos spock #leonard bones mccoy #tos bones #tos mccoy #captain james kirk #jim kirk #tos kirk

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winwintea · 5 hours

Text

how dreamies would react to bailing you out of jail

PAIRING ▸ dreamies x reader

TAGS ▸ none, except jail and chenle being rude at first, and oh karen renjun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i have never been arrested, i am a lawfully abiding citizen. have a nice day. i am perfectly normal and sane.

Mark Lee

Mark has never had to deal with the legal system before, so when he receives the phone-call from you, he’s really confused. “You’re… where?” He makes you repeat yourself and how you got in the situation. “What do you mean you can… ‘bail’ yourself out? Don’t you… have to be tried, like in front of a jury?” You have to explain to Mark how bails work, and eventually he begins to understand. “Don’t worry y/n… I’ll get you out, give me a second.” You can hear him leaving his room and running out, “CHENLE ?? CHENLE !! I NEED SOME CASH.”

Huang Renjun

Renjun is a little annoyed at first when he realizes that it’s the police station calling him and it involves you. “Well, what’d they do?” He asks, carefully, and as he listens to what the officers say, and his temper slowly starts to rise. “And you put them in jail for that?” He’s pissed off now. Not only was his day interrupted, but you got arrested for such a stupid reason. There was absolutely no reason why he needed to be involved either, so if they wanted him involved he would get involved. “You will be hearing from my lawyers…”

Lee Jeno

Jeno, like Mark, would be extremely confused on what exactly was going on. While he listened to you rant about what happened, and how you got put in jail, one thing would be on his mind: Were you a criminal now? He’s still technically trying to process everything that’s going on, nodding and expressing some “Uh-huh”s here and there to let him know you were listening, but his eyes are wide with concern. He really didn’t want you to become a criminal and agreed to buy your bail. (poor jeno)

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan cannot remain serious for once. He immediately lets out a giant laugh as soon as he hears what happened, “Yo, can you send me the mugshot? I might make some memes with it.” Obviously you aren’t too happy with this at all, and promptly hang up the call, stating that you were going to call someone else. 5 seconds later though, Haechan calls back, apologizing profusely, “SORRY. SORRY. I’LL PAY, I’LL PAY, SORRY”

Na Jaemin

Jaemin is both disappointed in you, but still worried for your wellbeing, so obviously he agrees to come bail you out, “Are you okay? I’m coming… to pick you up, don’t be scared.” When he arrives at the cell, he immediately scolds you, which he deems as appropriate payment for him having to drive over and rescue you. However, Jaemin will absolutely defend you all the way. Once he pays the bail bondsman, he then turns his attention to the officers, “Look at that face officer! Does that look like the face of a criminal to you?” It’s not until you beg him to leave that he finally gives up arguing with them.

Zhong Chenle

Chenle does not want to help you at all, “I don’t have time sorry.” (okay rude) But Chenle’s biggest mistake was calling you on facetime. You started crying and rambling about how your life was over, and how you were going to get sentenced to jail time, and this did the trick. “Okay. Fine FINE. I’M GOING.” He ends up paying a hefty sum to get your name cleared from the records and so there will be no trial for you! He doesn’t even ask if you did it or not. This is lowkey illegal and corrupt, but Chenle just doesn’t want to see you upset, and who are you to complain?

Park Jisung

Jisung is somehow so calm about the situation? Like, hearing that you got arrested doesn’t even phase him, “Where you at, send me the location, I’ll pick you up.” You’re shocked too, because you expected him to be in panic mode, but he just comes, does the whole bail process like it’s nothing and takes you home. When you’re in the car with him you can’t help but ask why he was so resolute about the whole situation. Jisung just gives you a nonchalant look, “It’s not the first time I’ve done this. Don’t do it again though.”

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lv2mt · 2 days

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fate

You had just finish your practice for the big game that was happening in 2 days, the sun kissing your skin and sweat dripping down your body like water. As you was packing away you hear someone shout your name in a familiar tone.

“hey y/n” You glimps around and see the person you didn’t expect to see. Art Donaldson the boy from college who always tried to get in your pants and sometimes almost did.

“hey Art” you say back. You swung your training bag over your shoulder in a slight rush to get out you turn around and just see him watching you.

As you was walking closer you could see more of him like how his body is more ripped and his blonde hair a lot more shorter but still had that same smirk that he had from collage. Art had that made your heart secretly race. You stop walking as your now in front of him making eye contact.

“you’ve changed” Art smirkingly said while his eyes scan your whole body making your stomach turn. “i can say the same” you show a slight smile as he does a light chuckle that made your heart melt.

“missed you y’know” he knew how to work over you, all he had to do is say something sweet and you’d be head over heels.

“did you know, wish i could say the same” you say teasing him. “ouch” Art says back while putting his hand on his heart mimicking that i broken it making you laugh. “what you doing here” changing the subject as you both made intense eye contact.

“well i heard you was in this court, thought i’d come and say hello” his smile growing a bit each word he said making it contagious. “how sweet of you” you say while feeling your breath getting shaky.

“where you heading now?” he asked

“gonna go back to my hotel” you answered, the more you both communicate the craving of wanting him all over you gets stronger.

“want me to drive you?” you felt somewhat rude if you said no to a drive to the hotel won’t be bad so you thought.

“er sure” he smirked as you agreed and suddenly you both walked towards the car park. “what hotel you staying at? i’m staying at the fancy one around the corner.” Your eyes widened knowing exactly where he’s staying, because you’re there too.

“no way! me too” you with a shocked tone in your voice, i mean you have no idea why your surprised your both highly paid tennis players of course your gonna stay at the most expensive hotel.

“well does that mean you can meet me at the bar tonight” he offered while pulling out his car keys and unlocking the car.

Your stomach turning, not knowing what to say. You thought about the question for a couple of seconds thinking of an answer.

“erm yeah why not” you say trying to hide the panic in your voice. He nodded and flashed a cute smile.

“be there by 6” your faltered by the slight demand in his voice. On the drive back you both just catch up on each other after leaving college, the car filled with bright smiles and happy laughter, you was really enjoying his company.

Now parked outside the hotel you both got out the car and feeling the slight breeze of wind giving you goosebumps. Now walking into the doors of the hotel and the smell of freshness hitting your nose making you feel at home.

Walking together into the elevator you notice the veins popping out of Arts arms causing dirty thoughts, his blonde hair that was slightly wet from sweat. The presence of Art slightly turning you on.

“What floor you on” his voice snapping you out your own thoughts. “4” you said back clearing your throat, “really me too what room you in?” it felt like fate, both practicing at the same court and staying at the same hotel on the same floor.

“110 what about you?” now making severe eye contact making the tension of the small elevator feel of lust. “122” the warmth of his breath slightly hitting your neck.

You smile not knowing what to say your mind just making unreal thoughts of him fucking you. Finally the doors slide open and you instantly walking out and Art following.

grabbing the hotel card to open your room from your purse rushing to get into your own privacy hoping your horny self goes. Unlocking your door you see Art in the corner of your eye just watching you, he knew exactly why you was in a rush.

“i’ll see you later” the seductive voice coming from his mouth made your breath shake. “see you soon” you try to speak out.

closing the door behind you and chucking your bag on the floor from exhaustion. Hiding your face with your hands and sighing from all the tension you’re feeling in your body. You check your phone seeing how long you have to see him again.

3 hours till you see him again, you had time find something to wear but your body needed rest. You laid in your bed letting the soft sheets caress your skin making your eyes flatter in tiredness making you almost drift to sleep.

2 hours gone by and your sat watching highlights of Arts games, something about seeing him stressed made you turned on. Seeing the time on your laptop made you in a panic ‘how has it been 2hours already?’ you think rushing out of bed.

Picking out a tight dress from your suitcase hoping it will make him insane for your touch. Couple of minutes gone by now doing your hair after finishing your makeup.

Now almost time to see him your heart is racing by every minute. Looking at yourself in the mirror admiring the beauty of yourself knowing his eyes will stay on you and only you.

You grab your phone and place it in your bag taking one final sigh before meeting the man who made you feel weak in the knees. Closing the door behind you and walking down the hallway in confidence but also panic.

Entering the elevator and pressing the ground button and once again looking at your self in the mirrors around it showing all angles of your body. The doors slide open showing you to the whole floor but you couldn’t care about other peoples eyes looking at you, all you wanted was Art.

Stepping into the bar and your eyes instantly searching for Art, at first you don’t see him your heart starts to pace, “what if he didn’t come” you think quietly.

As you walk in more into the bar you see a well dressed blonde sitting alone at a table with a drink of what looks like a beer “classic Art” you think. You walk more closer to him seeing more detail of him and how mesmerising he looks.

His eyes finally meeting yours and soon traveling down your body in shock how good you look.

“thought you wasn’t gonna make it” he says with that devilish smirk.

“wouldn’t miss this for the world” you say taking a seat in front of him and soon looking at him in awh.

“let me get you a drink, what do you want?” he asks. You smile hiding your face by looking at the menu in front of you.

“i’ll have a vodka tonic please” making eye contact back at him, he tells you he’ll be back while getting up and walking to the bar. You wait patiently looking around and admiring the place around you.

he comes back with the drink of your choice placing it in front of you, taking a sip you can feel the nice burn of the vodka hitting the back of your throat.

“you look beautiful by the way” he says making you do a light chuckle and looking away for a second before staring at his eyes that you could get lost in.

———

Couple of hours gone by and 3 vodka tonics down, the sexual tension between you and Art got bigger and you both just wanted each other.

“let’s say we go back to my hotel room” Art says getting it straight to the point, you couldn’t of agreed more. You nod in approval and both rush to the elevator.

At first it was silence but you turned your head to look at him and he was already staring at you like a prey. You couldn’t handle it anymore and made the first move. It started as slow and passionate kissing to a hungry make out.

Once again the doors slide open instantly stopping the connection of your lips. Following Art to his hotel room and thinking of what he will do to you as he is already making your pants wet.

Art unlocking his door and you both rush into the room, he pinned you on the wall almost instantly the door shut, shoving his tongue in your mouth tasting your saliva. Your tongues having a battle along with his hands running down your hips making a soft but masculine trail to your inner thigh.

His fingers feeling your soaked thong, you can feel his smirk against your lips.

“wet for me already ay” his tone of voice bringing out a breathless moan. Now kissing down your neck as his fingers rub your heat through your thong making you need him inside you now.

“fuck me please” you beg making him stop in his tracks.

“get on the bed.” his words now demanding already making you at you high. You do as he says and get on the bed slipping both slipping your shoes off. He gets on top of you almost instantly reconnecting your lips back together.

You tug at the bottom of his shirt hinting to take it off, he does. His hand sliding to your back unzipping your dress making it easier to pull above your head now leaving you in just your thong as you didn’t wear a bra making his dick grow harder.

Him now taking his pants off, both now just desperate for sex. His hands touching every corner of your body.

“i haven’t got a condom” he realises, “on the pill” you say back removing the worry of Art. You both couldn’t wait much longer, Art basically ripping your thong off and throwing it on the hotel floor then took his boxers off straight after leaving his big dick fling out.

Aiming his dick to your entrance stocking your pussy with it, teasing you.

“how bad do you want my dick y/n” hearing him say your name made you crazy.

“i want it so bad Art” you say basically begging for it. Art sliding inside me making my head go back leaving a free spot on my neck that his lips soon took over.

His thrusts going from slow to fast making you moan his name loud, his free hand covering your mouth because of the thin walls. His moans slipping from his lips enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy.

your hands gripping his shoulders every time his thrusts got harder hitting the right spots that made your legs shake.

“you like that hm? you like my dick inside you pretty girl.” the words coming out his mouth making you a slut for him and only him.

His thrusts getting more sloppy as your almost close making your eyes roll back. The room full of heavy breaths and muffled moans coming out your mouth.

“fuck i’m about to cum” he huffed out, soon after bitting his lip from the sexual feeling. You couldn’t hold it in anymore your cum releasing all over Art making the hand on your mouth feeling more pressured by the feeling.

His dick going more fast and hard making him realise all inside you and the mixture of cum dripping all down you. He slows down his motion and now slipping out you also taking his hand off your mouth.

He lyes next to you sliding his arm underneath your head making you lye on his chest. His finger tips now stroking your knotty hair.

“bet you regret not fucking me in college now” hearing his breathless laugh gave you comfort.

“i do regret it” you say back, Art leaving a peck on your head and turning the light switch off that was next to the bed.

You both now tired from the passionate sex you just had. Drifting to sleep to his fast heartbeat that was now going back to normal.

“goodnight y/n” his rispy voice says

“goodnight art” you say back now falling asleep on his chest.

#art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #challengers #mike faist #mike faist x you #smut fanfiction #art

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months

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The whole discourse about the privacy/secrecy/support thing has been sitting with me for a few days (I mean other than it always does to a certain degree) thanks to all the excellent discussion happening and I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said a million times before, but I think what we're seeing and what we're going to learn (e.g. from TTPD) is that it wasn't just the support issue, but how it was shown/handled.

We've all gone out of our way to show that introversion =/= lack of support. Someone can be shy, reserved, etc. and still show up for their partner, whether in public or at home. To chalk any of the differences up to the clash between introversion and extroversion is unfair to folks who count themselves among either tbh.

@thisisctrying said something the other day that hit the nail on the head about how if that support had been offered in private, there very well may not have been a Joever to begin with, or at least not at this point in time. (Sorry for loosely paraphrasing, and for namedropping you! Long time listener, first time poster.)

If this were a case where the "shy" partner said, "I am really uncomfortable with the spotlight personally and do not want to court it, but I will support you in your ambitions and offer you whatever you need to make them happen and make the glare bearable," I suspect that would have gone a long way to making Taylor feel seen and comfortable in pursuing her goals in the way that she now has. Again, that might have been more akin to the balance that seemed to have been struck around 2019 from what we can see, but even speaking in a general sense, there are lots of couples out there, celebrity or not, that have similar approaches where there are highly driven people and busy careers involved.

(A famous example being Dolly Parton's marriage. Tbh I know next to nothing about her and Carl, but she's always heralded as an example in this regard, because her husband is famously uncomfortable with the spotlight and hasn't accompanied her to public events in decades, but she's said that she never minded that because that was always work to her, and what was important was that he supported her in pursuing all her career goals and basically ensured she had a place to call home to return to at the end of the day.)

We're kind of in a brave new world with her current relationship because it felt like, at least at the start, we were maybe watching her figure out her boundaries in real time as to what she was comfortable with or not and adjust accordingly. Like so many have said, I fully believe the extreme privacy thing was initially driven by herself and her experiences in 2016, and she needed that quiet time to recover from all of the things and figure out how to exist in the world again.

Stating the obvious, it seemed like eventually privacy was equated with secrecy, turning the relationship and the celebrity into the elephant in the room and something to never be spoken of to the outside world. People are free to choose whatever works best for themselves and their relationships, and for some the separate public lives might work, but the “kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath” theme is all over her work and it’s clear that it’s a sore spot for her, because she’s been made to feel shame just for the life she leads so many times in the past.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty obvious something Not Great was happening behind the scenes, which didn’t just amount to “she wanted to be a public celebrity and he wanted to be a private hermit.” (Also, in case anyone forgot, this is a person who also chose a public-facing career who also has to engage in press for it, but I digress.) As her career reached new heights post-folklore, if she had the support at home to do all the things without judgment and with encouragement, and in turn offer the same support to her partner, she may have very well lived just fine with that, not unlike Dolly Parton’s case.

By reading between the lines in all the press since, as well as comments on tour and general ~vibes~ with TTPD teasers, it seems like one of the issues was that that was likely not the case. There was all the stuff that we saw — the reticence to acknowledge each other in the media (particularly on one side), the lack of public support even at events at which they were both in attendance for their respective jobs, the great lengths they went to not to be photographed together at events they attended yet no problem taking pictures with other friends and coworkers, the jobs that separated them, the withdrawing from the public even for work accomplishments, etc. Which could all be manageable if a couple chooses to do so together and are not inherently a sign of trouble in themselves.

But what we’re seeing now I think is a reflection of the things we weren’t seeing then, and it seems to indicate some very deep hurt. (I know, call me Captain Obvious.) And like so many have been saying, it feels likely that that part of that hurt is rooted in that very lack of private support where a person would expect it from their partner. Obviously as a Taylor fan blog I’m going to be more inclined to understand her side of a story, but tbh, it’s also because… this is sooooooo common, and something I’ve experienced in my friend group. (@taylortruther is right when she says most breakups are the same one way or another lol.)

One partner is resentful of the other’s success, or resentful that the other’s priorities begin to evolve as new experiences unlock new goals, or feels the other’s ambitions are not worthy of pursuit, and coupled with perhaps their own struggles in the same domain, it’s easy to see where that can chip away at the other partner’s morale and faith in the relationship. I know I’m just speculating here, but I also don’t think it’s totally unfounded. (Again, because a) I’m picking up what she’s putting down and b) it happens to sooooooo many women even among us dull normals.)

With all the pointed mentions about how much Taylor feels supported in her current relationship and how she in turn loves to offer the same show of support to not only her partner but other loved ones, how she’s stepped out more in the last year to a whole host of events, how she’s mentioned feeling like she locked herself away for years and she’s just proud of her partner and happy she can show up for him even if the chaos around it is unsettling, it paints a picture of what perhaps was happening before last year.

To feel like you’re all alone in carrying the weight of the relationship (or burden of it), of twisting yourself into knots to accommodate the other person’s boundaries (or insecurities) but not feeling reciprocity for your own has to be so painful. (The idea that it may have been even darker and to have a partner not only be unreceptive to your own needs but even perhaps resentful/dismissive/belittling of them is even more painful to think of. I guess we’ll find out when TTPD comes out if that was the case, too.)

At a certain point, that lack of acknowledgement will force your hand to be able to reclaim yourself. And it feels like the further removed Taylor in particular is from it, the more she moves from being sad about the life she felt she gave up by leaving, to angry at the life she felt she was giving up by staying. Especially being in a relationship now where it seems like everything comes much easier, where she can be open about the person she’s with and show up for them, all the stuff that seemed as challenging as climbing Mount Everest in her past is nothing more than a molehill at best in her current life.

TL;DR: I don’t think it’s privacy that inherently spells doom for a celebrity relationship like this; it’s the mutual support and respect that does. If Taylor had felt that in the later years of her previous relationship, I think we could be seeing a different, though not necessarily unfulfilled, person right now in 2024, who’d be happy on tour but whose personal life would look a little different. But it seems like by losing that support she lost parts of herself, and we’ve seen her reclaim that in spades in the last year, and perhaps to degrees she didn’t even realize she could from before all the Bad Stuff started happening in her young adulthood.

I know this was extremely long-winded and unnecessary, especially about total strangers we only know through scraps fed through the media, but I just always bristle at this idea that issues like these boil down to “personality differences,” as though one person wants to live in a city and the other on a remote island, or some shit like that. The whole support (and gender tbh) issue is one that’s just very close to my heart because again, I have seen it play out with so many of my friends in long term relationships and marriages and I just think people in relationships (and women in particular in some circles) deserve better than to feel like they’re being, well, tolerated.

#thisisctrying and taylortruther sorry for tagging you two!#can remove if needed!#but you guys made me think a lot #this was inspired by a conversation i had with a friend the other day #where she relayed an argument she had with her partner #who basically felt slighted that he wasn’t getting acknowledgement for all the housework he does — which is. just. the dishes #and she was like ‘wow congrats you’ve done the dishes — i do every other fucking thing to keep this household afloat in ways you see #and don’t see and i never ask for praise because it’s just stuff that needs to get done because that’s how you support your family’#and it just reminded me that some partners (and a certain kind of man in particular) just… think their struggles take precedence #when their partners drown in them everyday but keep things afloat out of necessity and are never recognized or supported for it #(my friends have shitty husbands/boyfriends can you tell lol)#long post #again the way i just feel like i know the vibes of ttpd in my bones are 😵‍💫#i feel like i have a lot more thoughts but I’m trying to be more gracious and less parasocial so #also just want to again defend the introverts of the world by reiterating that being introverted does not mean unsupportive #being a shitty partner does though!#writing letters addressed to the fire #it’s also just like… i feel like if Taylor had had even a modicum of the support in private and even public she needed #she’d probably still be with you know who and wouldn’t have considered leaving let alone doing it #because it would have felt like enough and like it was what was needed for both of them #whereas we’re seeing a completely new side of her open up now because this is the first time she’s ever had that support from a partner #in her adult life at least #and it’s like it’s opening up things she didn’t know she needed or wanted

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foreverppl · 1 year

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Moodboard for my MC Evander for @uroboros-if

I so enjoyed playing this demo last night and have been having many Thoughts about it.

#it was so tough finding pics i thought would fit what i have in my head but this will do for now #i was up thinking abt this IF for soooo long it’s unreal #what is eternity?#unending time but also timelessness #like what does it mean to be the container for something that has no beginning or end?#the container is rendered useless obvi #but here the MC stands so there MUST be something to that right?#maybe it just means they must act as a witness to it all.#they are resigned to an existence of knowing and seeing things others do not and being unable to impact those things in any meaningful way #like an echo #like a black hole that is packed so densely with matter but appears to be little more than a void. Nothingness (capital N)#*me muttering to myself while reading and making this mb*: the symbols the symbols the cycles the void the echoes #the fact that when mc is summoned into existence one of the first things we can choose to have them do is replicate a smile (echoing)#idk if i’m explaining this well. tried to talk to my sister abt it without sounding like a madman and suffice to say that didn’t work out #i’m really losing it #those quotes from house of leaves: ‘divinity seems defined by echo.’ + ‘and where there is no echo there is no description of space or love #there is only silence.’#that bit from disco elysium #‘how do you measure something that doesn’t exist?’ ‘easy. you measure it by the world around it.’#evander is fond of mortals. they are humanity’s echo in the truest sense.#they are therefore in a very unique position for the conflict that is about to come #of course these are all just my interpretations and thoughts #my mcs #mb #mc: evander (uroboros)#if: uroboros

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arthur-r · 2 years

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progress on my painting from a while ago

#it’s still just very base layers but i hadn’t got a chance to do anything to it since that first day #(i’m borrowing my older sisters canvasses and she’s the one who has all the paints too these days which used to be mine #so she’s keeping my work in progress canvas with all her painting stuff and it only comes out of the whole family is ready to paint #which mostly just means us kids but only happens if my littlest sister is interested and today she was)#anyway im very excited to have a painting to put up on my wall of a bear playing cello #the end pin is gonna be stuck out real long too look at how far it is to where his lower foot is at #cause usually you don’t play the cello when you’re standing and if you do you often have a strap or something similar #but i don’t use a strap (mainly because i only play sitting down but like. if i stood i would use the end pin)#and so neither does he. one real self insert of an imaginary cellist bear he must be #also one thing i’m gonna struggle with is differentiating the cello from the bear in color. like yeah they’re different shades of brown but #i only have so much different colors of paint to mix together #but yknow what. things happen and that’s all they ever do and if it doesn’t look good then i’ll figure something else out #maybe it’ll have to be an orange cello. these kinds of things are unpredictable shdhdf #anyway i hope you think of me like i think of this painting (as a grizzly bear playing a cello or as a thing you like and are proud of)#but yeah hi im at the house of some cats right now. feeding them and such. but there’s this other unafilliated cat who belongs to their #roommate josh. and his cat is named bear so you’d think we’d get along but he’s scratched me in six different spots today #he always wants to eat the other cats food so i have to pick him up and carry him to another room and that makes him very upset with me #anyway the cats take a long time to eat and i can’t leave until they’re done so that i can let out bear when he no longer poses a threat #which means im just kind of chilling in a friends empty house (josh is gone for the moment) with nothing much to do except wait #and i’m sure hoping to walk home before it’s pitch dark out but that would probably mean giving up and letting bear out to steal their food #so good luck to me on that front. anyway im rambling a little i was just trying to post this picture shdhdhdf #so. i hope to work on it again soon in not very long. and i just really like painting things with a paintbrush it makes me feel less bad #when i mess up in whatever ways. because everyone always complains about traditional art so it’s more universal. i like it better though too #anyway i’ll be here for the next while just hoping to head home before 9:30. let me know if you need anything though #me. my post. mine.#delete later

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luveline · 3 months

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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.

You see both sides of him now.

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.

“Hello,” you call back.

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.

“Shit, you wanna see?”

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.

“Another bat?” you ask.

“Not cool?”

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?”

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.

“You okay?” he asks.

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”

You pull your head up slowly.

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

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whipitgod · 2 days

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Thinking About Birds

Hannibal lecter x Will Graham

oneshot - wc: 2.7k

summary: post fall hannigram, will wishes he had thought about all of the little things that come with living with hannibal, and hannibal tap dances on wills last nerve!

warnings: language, mentions of canon typical murder stuff, somewhat crack-ish while also being serious at parts, tooth rotting domestic sweetness

a/n: Thank you for the continued support you are all so amazing!!! per usual this was supposed to be shorter than it turned out but i just can’t help my self apparently lol. If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

Will blinked awake slowly, shifting slightly to glance at the small digital clock on the nightstand; the numbers on the display reading 4:30. The red glow of the numbers feels almost taunting as he pauses to wonder what had even woken him up, he hasn't had a nightmare in months, at least not a real one. A thought crosses his mind that leaves a taste of bitter irony in his mouth, he hadn’t had a real nightmare since he had begun sharing a bed with Hannibal.

Will quells a laugh that bubbles up inside him and threatens to escape at the thought; the very cause of the nightmares that had plagued him for years, now being the thing that keeps them at bay. Will turns to look at where Hannibal sleeps, finding his side of the bed empty; Will can hear Hannibal clattering around in the bathroom in a failed attempt to be quiet so as to not wake the ex-profiler.

Will lets out a harsh breath through his nose in irritation as he hears what he believes to be, based on the sound of the bottle hitting the vanity in their shared bathroom, step 9 of Hannibal's outrageously long skincare routine. He reaches blindly for the lamp on the nightstand, making note of the fact that the sun has yet to even begin to rise. The lamp turns on with a soft click as he finally grabs ahold of the chain he had been reaching for, the room flooding with a warm yellow light that still manages to grate on Will's nerves.

He pushes himself up so he's sitting with his back against the ornately carved wooden headboard Hannibal had insisted on purchasing for their new shared bedroom, grumbling quietly to himself as he does, “Who the hell wakes up this early,” he swats at the nightstand in an attempt to find his phone, “and who needs a 15 step skincare routine,” finally managing to grasp his phone, but only after knocking a few of the random things he keeps piled on his nightstand, much to Hannibal's dismay, to the ground, “I mean jesus christ Hannibal, just get some damn botox.”

Almost as if summoned by Will’s quiet words of discontent, the door to the bathroom opens and Hannibal steps back out into the room, seeming shocked to have woken Will when he spots the younger man awake and reading something on his phone. The shock on the cannibal’s face stirs up another bout of irritation inside Will; why is he acting surprised? Hannibal's morning routine has woken Will more times than he can count in the few months that they had been living together in the small home. Hannibal makes slow strides over to the bed where Will is now looking at him with poorly masked annoyance, “I’m sorry if I woke you,” the man says, entirely too chipper and awake sounding for Will’s taste, “I was trying to be quiet.”

Will lets out a displeased huff at this, choosing to forgo a response. He spares Hannibal a short glance before focusing back on the article he had been reading on his phone, the older man sighs at this before moving to the closet to retrieve his clothes for the day. Will was glad the man’s fashion taste had become significantly more tame since they had settled into the home in argentina, he supposes it's probably due in part to Hannibal not having anywhere to get the clothes near where they’re staying, but Will wouldn’t put it past the man to have the clothes shipped in from somewhere else, and if anyone could find a tailor near where they reside it would be Hannibal.

Honestly Will isn’t a hundred percent sure why the change in Hannibal's choice in garment had occurred, Will is almost certain that he hadn't seen the cannibal wear a tie in the entire time they've been living together, let alone his previous daily attire of carefully tailored three piece suits. Hannibal now opting to wear a wardrobe of mostly linen, the flowy material good for staying cool in the warm environment they now reside in; Will supposes the temperature of the country they've been staying in might have something to do with the change, he would imagine that the humidity might make a polyester blend a bit impractical.

He watches the man dress as his thoughts unfold, he had never anticipated his life turning out this way, but he isn’t upset about it, even though sometimes he feels like he should be. The guilt that used to haunt his every waking moment now only graces him on rare occasions. He’s always able to stamp the guilt down as quickly as it arrives now with a silent acknowledgement that his guilt will not purify him; guilt does not make you innocent. Is the man that sobs out apologies at his trial any less of a murderer than the man that doesnt?

He’s broken from his thoughts by the sound of Hannibal shutting the closet door with a gentle thud, the man pausing to look in the floor length mirror he had insisted on having in the room momentarily, the same mirror that Will had only agreed to have in the room so long as it was not facing the bed in any way. Seemingly satisfied with his appearance he turns and faces the bed where Will sits watching him.

When he spots the look Will is giving him his features soften slightly, “I’m going to make some coffee dear,” the pet names were also a new addition that had seemed to come with the shared house, “I will start on a light breakfast in an hour or so.”

Will meets his eyes then, offering a small smile despite the irritation of being woken up this early that still simmered gently within him, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

the response seems to satisfy the older man because he nods at this before leaving the room to begin making what is no doubt a very overly complicated pot of coffee. Will misses shitty coffee every once in a while, don't get him wrong the stuff Hannibal makes is amazing, but Will still occasionally craves the bitter watered down coffee that you’d find in small diners and gas stations. Hannibal would probably have an aneurysm if he were to catch Will drinking the stuff now, he muses silently, the thought causing a small huff of laughter to escape him before he can stop it.

There were a lot of things that Will hadn't considered when he had thrown them over the cliff. He wasn't trying to kill them, at least he doesn't think he was, he honestly still wasn’t quite sure what his plan was when he had pulled Hannibal into the water with him. He doesn't dwell on this line of thinking for long, choosing not to rehash an internal conversation that he’s had on many occasions in the months they had been living in the home together.

Will hadn't really considered what it would be like to live with the cannibal before he had plunged them into that freezing water; he finds himself wishing that he had quite frequently though, especially when Hannibal wakes him up with the noise of his excessive morning routine.

Will had never really given much thought of what living with the cannibal would be like prior to their dive, at least not in any practical way. He had imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Hannibal, he’d found himself fantasizing frequently about drifting to sleep tangled with the man.

Funnily enough, his fantasies never included the way the cannibal lived his day to day life when Will wasn't present, they never included how Hannibal would go about mundane everyday tasks. He really wishes he had; he’s always known, at least on some level, that the man was eccentric and particular, he just hadn’t anticipated all of his quirks.

He regrets not considering all of the little things, like the man's obsession with his morning and night routines, or the way he mutters quietly to himself when he reads at night next to Will in bed, that one Will finds particularly frustrating; he remembers confronting Hannibal about it one night as they lied in bed one evening about a month into their stay. He lets out a soft puff of air as he recalls the memory.

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Will had been growing increasingly more and more frustrated with the sounds of Hannibal reading; prior to living with the man, he had considered reading to be an almost silent activity, yet here Hannibal was disproving that notion in a way that made Will want to tear the book from his hands.

Hannibal let out a please hum at what he was reading, drumming his fingers against the back cover of the book, “How interesting,” the sound of a page turning grated against Will's nerves and added to the growing irritation he had been feeling; Hannibal made a noise that sounded curious, continuing to drum his fingers against the back. Will wanted to stab him with one of the pens that sat on his cluttered nightstand. Hannibal let out another pleased noise, this one sounding satisfied like he satiated the momentary curiosity that had occurred from the last page before muttering a soft, “Very interesting.”

Will was gonna strangle him. He had never been able to find the strength to go through with it but he reasons he had never had to sit and listen to Hannibal read while he was trying to fall asleep next to him. The sound of another page turning doing nothing to calm the frustration bubbling up inside him; he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge in the fantasies of killing the irritating man but every once in a while Hannibal will do something that annoys Will to the point where he no longer feels any guilt about picturing the man's demise. Hannibal lets out another inquisitive noise and Will fights the urge to reach over and punch him, he’s too angry to even want to kill him at this point, he just wants to get one good lick in.

Hannibal breaths out a contented noise before muttering again, “Very, very interesting.” Will sits up with a speed he didn't know he was capable of, Hannibal jumping slightly as he had assumed the younger man was asleep. Hannibal had never been a very expressive man but in that moment as he stares at a borderline manic looking Will, his expression is that of a deer in headlights.

“Reading is a silent activity!” It comes out as more of a yell than he had intended but Will finds it hard to care, all of the anger that has been steadily building for the last hour reaching a boiling point, “How interesting can a book about-” Will stops quickly, eyes scanning over the cover of the book in Hannibal's hands before letting out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. Will finally noticing that the other man had been reading a book about the migration patterns of different birds in the region; not even attempting to finish the sentence he had started he plows on, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

Hannibal chose not to say anything, his expression now contrite as he closes the book with a soft thud, setting it gently down onto his lap not breaking eye contact with Will, a little afraid that the man might lunge at him if he looks away.

The fight leaves Will almost immediately, huffing out an exacerbated, “un-fucking-believable.” before laying back down with more aggression than Hannibal had thought possible. It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the sound of Will’s agitated breathing and the occasional disgruntled mutters emanating from where Will lays facing away from Hannibal. The cannibal can’t pick up on everything that Will is grumbling, the quiet words of anger somewhat muffled against his pillow but he picks up on some of it; a quiet disbelieving, “fucking birds.” Hannibal misses the rest of what he says but the cannibal understands the message, finally moving to set the book on the nightstand. The older man sits motionless for a few moments after setting the book down until Will snaps out an angered, “Go the hell to bed Hannibal.”

Normally Hannibal would push back, abhorring the rudeness of Will’s statement but in that moment he decides not to argue with the empath; He decides to simply flick off the lamp and lay down against his pillow. He reaches out to pull Will to his chest but as soon as Will feels the man's hand touching his arm he lets out a harsh, “Don’t.”

Hannibal feeling properly scolded in a way that he had rarely felt before decides not to make things worse by pushing, he rolls onto his back and drifts off to the sound of Will’s breath evening out as he finally falls asleep.

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Will is pulled out of the memory by the sound of hannibal calling his name announcing that the coffee was done; He isn't quite sure how long he had been sat there thinking about that night but given how long it takes Hannibal to make coffee with the ridiculous contraption he insists on using Will would wager that its been at least twenty minutes; Will had suggested buying a keurig one morning and he swears to this day that the cannibals eye had started twitching, Will had conceding quickly, worried that the knife Hannibal was using to make breakfast might find its way into his stomach.

Standing up from the bed with a sigh as he stretches his sore muscles; He’s had a back ache since they had taken their tumble, having been on the bottom when they hit the water his back had taken a majority of the damage, the raging water unforgiving as they crashed into it.

Stretching his back one more time with a pained groan, he strides leisurely out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Hannibal was sat reading something on his tablet, the older man looking up to greet him as he crosses the threshold into the room, “Good morning dear,” Hannibal gestures to the second mug sitting on the table, “I already poured you a cup.” Will offers him a soft smile in return, pulling out the chair closest to the other man before sitting down and pulling the mug towards him.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, the only sounds between them being the gentle clank of mugs being picked up and sat down as they drink their coffee, the domesticity of the act never failing to stir up complicated emotions in will; the empath had never considered how much hannibal would behave like a housewife once they had began living together.

He stares at the Hannibal while he gets lost in thought, his mind filled with memories of multiple events that had taken place in the last couple weeks alone; Some of Hannibal’s behavior and habits seemed more fitting for a forty year old suburban housewife, not a serial killer with a penchant for cannibalism. This thought makes him let out a small chuckle, Hannibal's head snapping towards him at the sound. Hannibal gives an inquisitive hum, his gaze expectant as he locks eyes with Will; Will simply waves a hand at the man's curiosity, deciding to take another sip of his coffee instead of responding.

Will startles at the realization of how domestic they've become, from their frequent bickering to their habit of sitting in comfortable silences simply enjoying the others presence. This realization doesn't scare him the way he thinks it should; something about it feels right, like this is just what was supposed to happen. Will can't help but let out another laugh at the thought, the idea of this outcome being fated is humorous to him in ways he can't quite pinpoint.

At the noise Hannibal looks at him again, watching him for a moment before asking a gentle, “Is something funny?” In response to the question Will gives a gentle shake of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Hannibal quirks a brow at his reaction, before speaking again, “It sure seems like something is funny,” he sets his tablet down, giving his full attention to Will, “Care to share?”

the empath huffs out another gentle laugh, he shakes his head softly once more before answering, “I’ve just been thinking about birds.”

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