#like why do they have to cheat on their partners

[garden0fyves]

thinking about... d1 athlete!toji who can't believe he has such a beautiful and intelligent girlfriend.

toji worships the ground you walk on. you're so fucking perfect, from the way you support his career to the way you stay up late waiting for him to return from away games. you've met him at the airport many times, all bright eyed and holding flowers for him. people have posted about the two of you so many times, saying just how well you treat each other. you’re the epitome of couple goals even if you do spend a decent amount of time explaining to your boyfriend that you’re here for him. always.

toji refuses to let you go. he's heard the horror stories of wag's being impatient with their partners or cheating on them because of feelings of neglect. you're the most patient person he's ever met, and he's the most impatient person you've ever met. you're patient because you grew up that way, toji's impatient because he's never had enough time. so, you allow him to be. toji knows how incredibly lucky he is because not only are you beautiful, patient, and possibly the best thing to happen to him, but you're damn near a genius. you made the president's list last year and are aiming to continue your streak this year.

toji's reminded how lucky he is when he makes eye contact with you after scoring. when he's running to the sideline to press a kiss to your lips, green eyes alight with mischief and adrenaline from running down the field. he's also reminded when he comes back from a rough game with grit teeth and unshed tears of anger in his eyes. toji's never believed in showing his emotions so openly, but when you press a kiss to his cheek and relay every single thing he did right to to him it's hard not to cry.

you're perfect. and he doesn't mean this because you're his girlfriend, his first real one since he was an asshole in high school.

if it makes toji feel better, you think he’s also perfect. you struggled with relationships in high school because you felt like you weren’t seen beyond your intelligence. everyone wanted to be seen with you for the purpose of having a popular girlfriend, never for your personality or your heart. you were sweet in high school, don’t get me wrong. but you were a party favor to them, a trophy of sorts. toji's the first to make you feel seen and valued.

it was so surprising when you met toji in your intro to psych lecture. he sat beside you, all big and muscly barely fitting in the desk. he didn’t speak much at first, but as the assignments grew harder he needed help to pass and continue playing. so, he made friends with you. toji wouldn’t lie, he originally started talking to you because he thought you were hot. he knew you wouldn’t fuck him immediately and he wasn’t in the mood to play the long game. so for the first time in his life he tried to make an actual friend. it was a random decision to him, but this ended up meaning so much more to you.

you had no idea who toji was. as far as you knew, he was a random gym rat that was majoring in something like kinesiology (ouch) to get by and become a coach. while his major was kinesiology, toji and everyone around him knew he was going to the league after graduation. this wouldn’t matter in the long run. he’s here to play ball, but if he learns then he learns. and somehow, after knowing you for a year, toji finds himself wanting to learn.

you've made him smarter while he shows you that you're loved. your heart feels so full when you leave class to see toji lingering outside of the door. your heart warms when he abandons his teammates to catch up to you with a little smile on his lips. he always presses a kiss to your temple, asking how your lecture went or how your day was. toji makes time for you no matter what he has going on, and that's why you feel so valued by him. he's so busy as a football player. he has to deal with the media, practice, games, and even maintaining the image for your school. but still, at the end of the day, he returns to your apartment to keep you company while you study.

at the end of the day, he'll always be relived knowing he's coming home to you. he'll watch you with all of your books sprawled on the floor, glasses on and hair barely pulled back. he'll always come home because you are home. you've changed his life in just a year, and he wouldn't have it any other way. to everyone on campus toji's some sort of myth. the demon on their football team that racks up insane stats.

but to you, he's just your lover.

[sangunary]

Vengeance !

Yandere Batfam × Catgirl Reader.

SYPNOSIS: When Selina kitten decided to avenge her by using birds.

IMP: Batman's a jerk, Reader doesn't have any feelings for any of the Robin, Damian isn't included Because he's a minor in this Au.

WARNING: mentioned of sex, no direct smut, gore, manipulation, cheating?.

Selina was known for working alone and being quite efficiency in her work line, no floundering and not having to worry about anyone else but her. But in the end she ended up picking a stray cat into her arms to raise her with warmth and love, something she yearn for.

Astonishingly her new found subject of affection turned out to be a better version of her. Their voice was loud and sharp, their claws were always ready to spill some blood, their fangs were sharp enough to dig into any man's throat and she wasn't interested in love. Unlike her when she was youthful.

Selina have her fair share of 'lovers' and one being the batman himself. She was young and foolish, too much ecstacy in her eyes to notice that he was using her feelings to stop her from persuing her only passion .

She was willing and he took advantage of her heart. He promised her forever yet he couldn't keep any promise. Selina let herself loose just to be dump by him, she gave him her life and he gave her nothing.

You knew her pain and you devoted your life just to ruin the same man who ruin her. Afterall she gave you life when life itself rejected you.

The first Robin you trapped between your fingers was Dick Grayson. He was young and stupid, you gave him false hope let him loose just to pull him back.

It didn't take long for the young boy to fall into your sweet lies.

the clear evidence being that he was still wrapped around your fingers when he was now known as Nightwing.

He was more touchy and affectionate. He was like a bee and you were his nectar, he would always come back he can't resist you, and he knew that.

He get sulky and even extremely violent if you don't give him your time, he was never violent with you but to others? He was deadly, he was willing to break batman's rules as long as you promised to give him forever.

He was a needy man, always touching your every curve and kissing you every moment of the day. Holding onto you like you were his lifeline.

His eyes scream devotion to you but you didn't feel contented at all. His word never sink deep into your heart and the night you spent with him was nothing but a night of faking it.

No matter how many times he make you scream his name or the enormous number of scratch mark on his back or the love bite he left. Lust was just a temporary moment for you.

You knew you could never commit to anyone not even to him. He was perfect in a sense that you absolutely despite him. The only redeeming quality was that he was so willing, even if he rejected he would always do as you say.

He was an easy man, he just needs you. The idle partner who was full of love and what not. You were just too tempting and he would absolutely sin inside a church for you.

Dick hands met your waist as he pull you closer ignoring his current mission, you were just to tempting tonight.

His lip was everywhere as he whimper nothing but devotion coated in honey. Their current mission was to stop Selina from stealing an important painting from the museum.

Dick was supposed to prevent that but you came along and you pulled him away from the camera view, although wouldn't mind giving a show for the camera.

It had been too long since he got to kiss or have you in his arms. You've been ignoring him for a reason and seeing you so dolled up just for him... He forgot why he was even mad at you.

You didn't disappoint him, he was just too into the moment that he didn't realise you've taken his only way to snap out of the moment. His communication device.

You tuck it into your pocket as you let his hand's wander letting lust win and left after Selina have taken what she wanted.

Leaving him needy and restless, making him vulnerable for your next encounter..

Another bird you shot down was Jason Todd the second Robin.

He was a tricky bird. Yet who knew all it took was some understanding and he would gladly lay in your lap like a cat.

It was ridiculous. Jason was tough and mentally? he was unstable, your relationship with him was truly toxic yet you always find a way to reel him back into your arms.

Your main weapon was just to open your arms and he would glady embrace your warmth. He acted as if you were his only place of comfort... You were.

Without your warmth he couldn't bare to hold his frustration back, but in your arms he felt as if he was just a boy, when he didn't have to worry about life deceiving him or being forgotten about. He was Jason Todd in your arms.

But for you being embrace by him felt suffocating. You could tell he loves you just from his embrace but you felt a sense of itching inside your skin crawling around freely, mocking you for taking advantage of a poor boy.

Jason wasn't a person you could deny, he was possessive and full of jealousy. He didn't like any attention on you something you yearn for. He wasn't afraid to shead blood.

You found it out the most gruesome way. It was late and you weren't even supposed to be near crime alley but you have a feeling that Jason might need you.

When you turn a coner you discovered a brutal scene. Jason standing tall as the poor hero body lump on the ground beaten to plum, you could make out pieces of flesh in a clump, blood still seeping from the half dead man.

The same man who have flirted with you.. Was now unrecognisable, the sound of him moaning in pain was low yet very clear.

The poor hero jaw was broken it's bone peaking out mix with torn flesh, you could see his teeth from your current location.

Jason was holding a crobar, his face smudge with crimson blood, the crowbar was dripping red one could not recognise it's orginal colour.

Finally Jason notice your presence walks towards you and pull you into his arms. He was much taller and you felt as he cover your whole body.

He whispered nothing but sick fantasy as he kissed you, reassuring you that no one will take you from him.

You could smell nicotine and rotten blood from him, you felt disgusted your stomach contorted, yet you hug back. Reassuring him.

He was too important, he was too far gone. You were in no place to not continue your lie of love for him.

He wouldn't listen even if you did tell him the truth, he was stubborn as kid and as violent as a kid. But he was no kid in the brain.

He was very calculated you fear he might know your true intention and is only playing his part to fool you.

Yet, his embrace felt somewhat alluring for you, you couldn't tell if it was the sleepiness or the extreme violent that make you feel this way. It was a temporary comfort eitherway.

The bird that willing eat the poison was Tim Drake.

He was the most intelligent yes, but one thing no one could beat you at was bringing false comfort.

You praise him daily, you tried to seduces him but he was just too shy unlike Dick. He wasn't broken unlike Jason he only needed someone who was alike.

You listen to his long session of talking about his new investigation even help him, which was an honest mistake.

Now the boy won't stop opening his mouth about any new investigation thinking you're super into it.

Another way you captured him was by simply manipulating him.

Making him compared himself to the rest by making him jealous and suddenly you gave him all the right praise and warmth.

He wasn't as charming and loved as Dick. He wasn't strong and confident like Jason. Unlike them he was just a normal person who takes the highway for the fun of it.

He felt insecure and you appear. Kissing his self doubts away, clearing his mind and giving him a piece of heaven: a place he can finally rest.

Tim was hard to control, he knew your social account and any online life you have was now an open book to him.

Reading your text or spying on you through your own lense was a common occurrence, did he care that he was invading your personal space? No.

Was asking you about your following and asking you to block certain people was okay? No. But it was for your sake, he wasn't trying to isolate you.

He was keeping you safe from the world. He didn't have much to cherish but you. Oh not even God could take you from his hands.

But the moment you held his hand's, he wasn't the shy boy everybody assume he was. He was quick and smart about his move.

Unlike Jason who was calculated in a more menacing way Tim was calculated in a way that his desire could be achieved fast.

He did his research kissing you at all the right place saying his so called right word to turn a woman on. Helpless and desperate he was but no one could blame him.

Although he tried to be calculated sometimes you just have that affect so strong it's hard for him to think straight.

He was the piece you needed inorder to get any information for Selina. He wasn't hard to melt you just have to put him right at the moment and he'll melt just by your glance.

Tim hands were right on your thighs, he was supposed to be patrolling but you spend him some message talking about how you needed help.

Him being the good person he was run straight into your trap willingly.

You ran your hand through his hair as you kiss his cheek leaving a stain of lipstick on its trail.

His face nuzzle on your neck living soft and sloppy kisses everywhere, enjoying the moment.

He spill everything you needed to know right there and even saying more while singing praise of you.

Selina was proud of you, you caught three birds without a fuzz. they were now permanently stuck addicted to your sweet nectar only you can supply.

She couldn't understand how you did it so effortlessly.

Dick was the oldest, he was the one who makes everything less painful for every member of the family without him... It won't last long.

Jason was the son Batman failed. If you managed to stray him afar he could possibly stab Bruce heart with his word's and actions. It's wasn't hard to lead a bird to a new nest.

Tim was intelligent and an important member, he was the bird Bruce nurture without much difficulty. Bruce heart would be so broken if he realised his son was willingly telling information about their families to a wild cat.

They were the perfect piece for your mother's revenge.

But catching bird's come with an awful price.

[meadowfics]

superhero

park gyeong-seok x f!reader

the hopeful and the hopeless meet and fall in love

this is part one

warnings: angst

honestly, you don’t remember the last time you felt okay. 

not the kind of okay you fake when someone asks how you're doing and you nod with a smile that feels borrowed. the real okay. the kind where your chest doesn’t ache when you breathe. the kind where getting out of bed isn’t a full body effort.  

every morning feels like climbing out of a hole that keeps getting deeper. your alarm buzzes at 6:00 a.m, but you never need it. you’re already awake, lying there in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it holds answers to questions you’re too tired to ask anymore. 

your blankets are always tangled around your legs, twisted like the thoughts in your head that never let you rest.  

you peel yourself out of bed. the wooden floor is freezing under your bare feet, and your old apartment windows do nothing to keep out the cold. your bathroom light flickers when you flip the switch, but you don’t bother fixing it. that light is like everything else in your life, it’s broken, but still barely working.  

you brush your teeth mechanically, wash your face, pull your hoodie over your head. you used to care about how you looked. you used to match your outfits, wear your favorite perfume, accessorize with little rings and bracelets that made you feel like you. now you just grab whatever’s clean.  

you shove your hands in your pockets as you walk to the subway station, head low, headphones in but no music playing. you don’t want to hear the city this early and you especially don’t want to see the couples holding hands, or the joggers with their determined faces. you don’t want to see anyone.  

the amusement park always looks eerie before it opens. the rides don’t move yet. the games are all covered in tarps. the music hasn’t started playing. it’s quiet, and for a moment, you can pretend the whole place is yours. later the workers start showing up and the families follow a few hours later… that is when the day begins.  

you unlock the ice cream stand like you have a thousand times before. same creaky handle. same flick of the wrist to get the stubborn latch open. the smell of sugar and milk and artificial fruit flavor hits you instantly. you tie your apron. you count the change in the register.  

this job doesn’t pay shit. it is a couple of cents more than minimum wage, sometimes less when the hours get cut. however, the tips…those help. the parents who toss in a few extra bills because you complimented their toddler’s glittery sneakers and the ones who smile at you like you’re part of their good day.  

it’s not much, but it keeps your fridge from being completely empty.  

people always ask why you stay here. why you don’t apply somewhere else. somewhere that offers benefits, security, and growth. you don’t tell them the truth. you don’t tell them that after everything that’s happened, the thought of more change makes your lungs tighten and your throat close up. 

after your last relationship ended, if you could even call it a relationship, you're not sure you could handle another shift or change in your life.  

your ex-partner cheated on you. not once, and not even twice. they cheated on you so many times that you lost count. still, for some reason, you stayed and maybe because you believed they’d stop. you remember the way they’d lie. effortlessly. 

they’d hold your hand and kiss your forehead, and then vanish for the night with someone else. every time you brought it up, they’d turn it around on you and say you were too clingy, too sensitive, and too much.  

when they finally left, they didn’t even say goodbye. just a half-assed text and a blocked number. it broke something in you.  

now, you’re just… here and surviving. you only scoop ice cream for kids who scream with joy while your insides feel like static.  

you laugh when they laugh and smile when their eyes light up but it’s like acting in a play you never auditioned for. no one sees the way your hands shake when you’re alone behind the counter. no one knows you go home and cry into your pillow until you fall asleep from exhaustion.  

you live in a cycle of numbness but recently things have been different. 

in the shop you’re crouched behind the counter, tugging open the freezer latch with one hand and hoisting up a heavy, half-frozen tub of cookie dough ice cream with the other. your arms ache from how stiff the container is, the frost biting at your fingertips. it’s just past 9 a.m and you are already physically exhausted.  

right now it is too early for the usual wave of parents and their sugar-happy kids. it is too early for the noise, the mess, the fake customer service voice you’ve perfected over the years.  

you grunt quietly as you slide the tub into place, scooping out the rock-solid top layer so it’ll look fresh when the kids start pointing at it. your back cracks when you stand up. another reminder that your body is tired of doing this every day.  

suddenly, the doorbell chimes. soft, metallic.  

you sigh.  

“we’re not open yet,” you mutter under your breath, brushing your hands off on your apron before turning toward the front.  

you expected a whoe family… instead, you see her.  

that little girl in the ridiculous knitted strawberry hat.  

you can't help the way your mouth softens.  

na-yeon.  

she’s no older than four, all round cheeks and wobbly steps, wearing a bright yellow hoodie and sparkly velcro sneakers. she pushes open the door like she owns the place, eyes lighting up the moment she spots you behind the counter.  

“unnieeee!” she yells, arms stretched out like she hasn’t seen you in years instead of twenty-four hours.  

you chuckle, despite yourself, “good morning, na-yeon.”  

she climbs onto the same wobbly metal chair she always does, clearly stolen from one of the snack stalls nearby, and presses her little hands and face up against the glass display. the smudge marks from her visits have become familiar, almost comforting.  

“you have cookie dough,” she announces proudly, like she knows everything.  

“i did,” you nod, organizing the scoopers even though they’re already lined up perfectly, “you must be psychic.”  

“noooo,” she giggles, nose scrunching, “i just love cookie dough. it’s your favorite, right?”  

you blink.  

“…yeah. how’d you know that?”  

she shrugs, hands still glued to the glass, “’cause you always hum when you scoop it. only cookie dough. i hear it.”  

your heart pauses for a second because you don’t even realize that you hum.  

you stare at her, this tiny stranger who’s been coming to your stand every morning for the last month, always full of energy and curiosity and always complimenting you in that wide-eyed, innocent way only a kid can.  

“your shirt is pretty today,” she says in her little voice, twisting around to smile at you, “i like blue. it makes your hair look shiny like a princess.”  

you glance down at your pastel blue shirt. the one you always roll your eyes at when you put it on. the one you’ve sweated through too many times.  

yet… it doesn’t feel so ugly today.  

you walk over to the case and watch as she points at the vibrant, swirled mess of blue, yellow, and pink near the bottom corner.  

“superman flavor,” she whispers like it’s sacred, “can i have some? just a little? i promise i won’t tell my daddy.”  

you sigh, pretending to think, even though you already know the answer, “na-yeon… it’s 9 in the morning.”  

“but ice cream has milk in it! milk is good for breakfast!” she beams, clearly proud of her logic.  

you snort, “that’s a stretch.”  

“pleeeeease,” she whines, giving you those big, sparkly eyes, “you’re the nicest. you always give me the best flavors and your hands are cold but your smile is warm.”  

your breath catches for a second.  

this kid.  

you glance toward the door, then back at her. you haven’t seen her parents… never have. you assume they work somewhere in the amusement park, maybe setting up one of the rides or sweeping the walkways. she always shows up alone, like she’s following some invisible morning routine.  

you grab a small plastic sample cup and scoop a tiny swirl of the superman flavor into it.  

“if your parents ever come yell at me, i’m blaming you,” you tease, handing it over.  

she gasps like you just handed her treasure. 

“my daddy won’t! pinky promise.” she holds out her pinky, and you blink, surprised, before linking yours with hers gently.  

you sit behind the counter as she eats the sample with exaggerated little “mmm” sounds, kicking her legs beneath the chair.  

“does your mommy like ice cream too?” you had asked offhandedly, not even thinking. you do not know much about her parents. 

na-yeon had looked up, pausing mid-swing. the little girl’s face stayed still for a second too long, her smile dimming just slightly.

“i don’t have a mommy,” she said simply, her voice clear but quiet, “it’s just me and daddy.”

your breath had caught a little in your chest. you crouched beside the counter, feeling suddenly guilty. 

“i’m sorry, na-yeon,” you said gently, trying to keep your voice soft, “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

she had just shaken her head, shrugging her tiny shoulders. 

“i’m not sad,” she’d replied, “daddy says we’re a super team and you give me superman ice cream today, so I feel like a superhero. I think i am today.”

you had smiled then…one of those rare, real ones. without another word, reached into the display and scooped her more of a generous swirl of the blue-yellow-pink flavor, handing it over like it was a peace offering.

she lit up again. 

“hehe!” she giggled.

for a few minutes, you forget the ache in your chest. you forget about your ex, the shouting, the cheating, the betrayal, and the loneliness you feel. you forgot about the nights you laid curled in your bed, wondering what was wrong with you that made someone so easy to leave you behind.  

you forget all of it because na-yeon is humming now and it’s off-key, and it’s loud, and it’s everything.  

“you’re my favorite person at the carnival,” she says through a mouthful of melting colors, “you don’t yell and you smell like strawberries and sugar.”  

you smile slowly, not the fake one you give to customers and not the tired one you wear when your boss walks by.  

“you’re my favorite too, little one.” you say before you even think about it.  

na-yeon swings her feet, beaming, “i knew it!”   

she stays longer than usual today.  

na-yeon settles at the table closest to the cashier counter, a crayon in her hand and a napkin spread across the surface like it’s fine art paper. she hums while she draws, legs swinging beneath the plastic chair. every so often, she asks you what your favorite animal is, or what color you think clouds really are when no one’s watching.  

you answer her questions between customers. the usual slow trickle of tourists has started…parents tugging along sleepy kids, already asking for ice cream this early in the day. you serve them with practiced hands, smile politely, then find your gaze drifting back to her.  

na-yeon doesn’t ask for more ice cream. she just... sits.  

the younger girl’s presence is soft and not demanding like most kids. she is not loud or messy. she is just comfortable like background music you do not mind playing over and over again.  

or a while, you let yourself believe that maybe things are okay and maybe the ache inside you doesn’t own every inch of your body after all.  

around noon, when the sun sits high above the striped carnival tents outside, you hear the scrape of her chair. the sound makes you turn instinctively.  

she walks behind the counter with tiny steps, her strawberry hat slightly crooked and her drawing clutched in her hand. you wipe your hands on your apron and crouch down to meet her eye-level, the familiar ache in your knees whispering that you’re not twenty-two the way you should be.  

“what’s up, superhero?” you ask gently, smiling.  

na-yeon rocks on her heels for a moment before leaning in close, voice hushed like she’s letting you in on a secret.  

“i’m going to go see the pink bunny at the parade.”  

you blink, “the pink bunny?”  

she nods, face serious, “yes! she throws candy. real candy and not fake ones like the green bunny.”  

your lips twitch, “ah. of course. only the pink one’s legit.”  

“uh-huh,” she says proudly, adjusting her strawberry hat, “so i have to go now.”  

something tightens in your chest.  

you glance toward the window where the crowd outside is beginning to shift, slow music drifting from the distance. you know the parade’s starting soon…balloons bobbing between the booths, dancers in costume lining up at the far end of the fairground.  

you reach out and gently touch her shoulder.  

“stay safe, na-yeon,” you say, voice soft but steady, “and don’t talk to strangers.”  

she beams, crumpling her drawing a little in her excitement.  

“i’m not talking to strangers,” she chirps, “i’m talking to you.”  

that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does.  

“fair enough,” you whisper, “i’ll see you later then?”  

“uh-huh,” she nods eagerly, already turning on her heel. suddenly, she pauses, wiggles her arms, and does her little jumpy dance…two hops to the left, spin, two hops to the right, clap.  

you can’t help but laugh.  

she waves once, twice, and then pushes open the door with both hands. the bell jingles above her head as she disappears into the afternoon sun, swallowed up by the carnival crowd.  

you stare at the door for a few seconds longer than you should then you sigh, quietly.  

the booth feels emptier and your shift drags back into the rhythm of scooping and smiling, but something lingers in the back of your mind.  

you hope she finds her pink bunny and you hope the candy’s sweet. you hope, more than anything, that she stays safe. she’s just a little stranger but somehow… she matters more than you expected.  

the next morning, everything feels familiar again. the same tug of exhaustion behind your eyes, the same cramp in your shoulder as you unlock the ice cream stand. you restock the napkins, wipe the smudges off the display glass, straighten the neon-colored paper cones.  

it feels routine. safe, in a weird way. the kind of repetition that keeps you from spiraling.  

just like yesterday… the bell above the door rings at exactly 9 a.m.  

you don’t need to look because you already know who it is.  

“unnieeeee!”  

you turn, smiling before you even see her.  

na-yeon is dressed in a new hoodie today…purple this time, with little white stars scattered across the sleeves. she runs in, cheeks flushed from the morning breeze, eyes glowing.  

“you’re here early again,” you say as she climbs onto her usual chair.  

“the parade was fun,” she says proudly, kicking her feet, “the pink bunny gave me a huge lolipop!!!”  

you pause for a second, but she’s already distracted, staring through the glass again. you lean down and grab a small spoon from the drawer, scooping a tiny bit of raspberry swirl into a paper sample cup and handing it over.  

she eats it in one bite.  

“mmm! this one is purple and yummy!”  

you grin, “it is raspberry. a lot of people like that one.”  

“i do too,” she hums, “it tastes like the color purple like... princess flavor.”  

you’re about to ask what color she thinks chocolate tastes like when you glance at the wall clock and remember you’re supposed to pick up your paycheck today. your boss left it in the office near the ticket booths, and if you don’t grab it now, you’ll forget again.  

you turn to na-yeon.  

“hey, i gotta grab something real quick. wanna walk with me?”  

she hops off the chair without hesitation, “okay!”  

you step outside the stand, locking the door behind you. the weather’s warmer today, and the sun feels sharp against your skin. you hang a handwritten sign on the window:  

“back in one hour. 돌아오는 데 한 시간 걸립니다.” 

na-yeon walks beside you, skipping every few steps. she licks the spoon even though it’s already clean.  

“yesterday’s ice cream was good,” she says, “the blue one with sparkles. i think that was my favorite.”  

“superman?” you laugh, tilting your head, “yeah, that one’s always a hit.”  

you’re about to ask her if she wants to try another flavor tomorrow when your eyes catch a figure in the distance…toward the edge of the fairground, near the roller coasters.  

a man with a canvas and folding chair, setting up his portrait supplies.  

you’ve seen him before.  

he’s one of the freelance painters who does quick sketches and soft pastel drawings for couples and families. you always notice him during your lunch breaks. his head is always down, focused, hands always stained with color.  

na-yeon follows your gaze.  

then, before you can say anything, she lights up like a lantern.  

“daddy!!”  

your heart stutters.  

you watch her run toward him, arms spread like wings and her little legs move so fast you worry she’ll trip.  

he looks up, startled at first…but the second his eyes land on her, his whole face softens. he sets down the sketchbook and bends to catch her, lifting her easily into his arms.  

he looks at you through her shoulders and there’s a moment where neither of you speak.  

you both just nod.  

soft, simple. an acknowledgment.  

you nod back, lips curled gently at the edges.  

you knew it. you had a feeling with her comfort wandering alone, and her timing that she had a a parent worked here. the dad, since na-yeon has no mother. of course na-yeon belonged in this place.  

you turn and head toward the office building. it’s a short walk… just across the square near the spinning teacups. you get your check, exchange a few tired words with the payroll clerk, and then head toward the gate, ready to catch the train home.  

the sun is starting to dip low, casting everything in gold.  

you’re halfway through the park when you hear sirens. your heart instantly clenches as people start to look around, whispering, gathering.  

your pace quickens, then turns into a jog. the flashing red lights blur against the colorful carnival backdrop. your stomach drops.  

you see her before anything else.  

na-yeon who is limp in someone’s arms.  

you turn when you see her father, the painter, he’s shouting her name, frantic and trembling, running beside the paramedics.  

your legs feel like lead. your whole body freezes as you watch them lower her into the back of the ambulance. na-yeon’s tiny hand dangles. her hat is gone.  

“na-yeon! what happened?” her father calls, asking the paramedic as he is stumbling into the vehicle. the doctors slam the doors behind him.  

the sirens scream again.  

you just stand there, unmoving, watching the ambulance drive off. you don’t realize your fists are clenched until your nails dig into your palm as your throat burns. 

‘please be okay,’ you think.  

not the only light you’ve had in weeks, limp as she is being taken to the hospital.  

you had no idea about her conditions. did na-yeon eat something she wasn’t supposed to? did someone do something to her? your mind went wild.

you stay there long after the crowd disperses. you stay silent and still wishing you had done more.  

the next morning is tuesday.  

your only day off.  

you should be grateful…most people working the stands barely get a break. for you, it’s the worst day of the week because on tuesday, you’re alone with your thoughts.  

you wake up around ten, later than usual, buried beneath heavy blankets in your too-small bed. the sun peeks through the blinds, cutting harsh lines across the floor. you don’t get up at first. you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet suffocate you.  

your mind spins. all you can think about is na-yeon. there have been no updates, no word, no laughter.  

you hate not knowing.  

you wish you could’ve worked today…at least at the stand, someone might have known something. maybe her father came back, maybe one of the other workers heard something at the hospital.  

instead, you're stuck in your room, spiraling. eventually, the emptiness becomes unbearable. you force yourself out of bed. you take a lukewarm shower, pull on your most comfortable jeans, and toss your wallet into your coat pocket. your grocery list is short: laundry soap, lettuce, ranch, body wash… the essentials you can guess.  

you walk to the store in silence, the weight of the last 24 hours pressing into your shoulders. the streets buzz faintly around you, but it all feels distant. muffled.  

the store lights are too bright, and the aisles too clean. you move through them like a ghost.   

you stare at the wall of body wash bottles for too long before grabbing the cheapest one that doesn’t smell like some artificial fruit or plant.  

you don’t speak to anyone and you pay in cash and leave without looking the cashier in the eye.  

on the way back home, you take the shortcut…cutting through the narrow alley between the abandoned bakery and the old printing shop. you’ve used it a hundred times before.  

however, you walk against the rocks below your feet and see a man standing in the middle of your path. he is tall, and has broad shoulders.  

the man’s suit is clean, perfectly pressed, like it was made just for him. sharp black dress shoes, polished to a shine.  

he smiles when he sees you.  

“excuse me,” he says politely, voice smooth, “i’m sorry to bother you miss… would you like to play a game?”  

you blink.  

“…what?”  

he holds up a square envelope. inside it….a colored tile and what looks like a stack of money.

“one round. simple game. all you have to do is win.”  

you narrow your eyes, “and if i lose?”  

“then i win,” he replies, still smiling, “and you get another chance to try again. each time, you walk away with something.”  

you don’t know why you stay.  

maybe it’s curiosity, maybe you’re just tired of going through the motions. its probably the abnormality and curiously poking at your mind at this strange exchange.

you nod slowly.  

he explains the rules. a matching tile game. quick, stupid, childlike.  

you lose.  

however, the slap that hit your face is fast and loud, snapping your head to the side. your eyes sting and your cheek burns, you’re shocked at the impact but surprised when he gives you that same light smile from before.  

after you win the second game… he hands you an envelope.  

inside is 100,000 won. crisp. clean. real.  

you stare at it.  

“…why?”  

he shrugs, “you played.”  

after, he hands you the card. it is brown and embossed. there is no name, just a number. on the other side there is a shape of a circle, a triangle, and a square.  

“call if you’re interested in something bigger,” he says, “if you want more than just getting by.”  

you stare at him, stunned.  

“i’m not in debt or anything,” you mutter, still dazed.  

“you don’t have to be,” he says simply, “sometimes it’s not about money. sometimes it’s about having hope.”  

just like that, he walks away.  

you stand there in the alley with a grocery bag in one hand and a future you didn’t ask for in the other. your cheek still stings and your mind races because you weren’t even looking for something new. you weren’t even broken financially in the way people usually are.  

you slip the card into your pocket.  

just in case.  

a week later, you weren’t sure what you were walking into.  

the field area looked too cartoonish. it felt too smooth, too clean, and the guards in red didn’t speak. the doll acorss the field did not make things any better. you tried not to look at it for too long. 

everyone was herded together like cattle…rows of strangers in numbered green tracksuits. your number, 346, was among the many players. 

you felt a hand push you aside when you were standing around the middle. you nearly protested, but the man whose jacket was labeled 456, turned around to the crowd.   

“listen carefully!,” he warned, eyes wide and desperate, “this is not just a game! if you lose the game, you die!”

at first, you rolled your eyes. really? is he really trying to sabotage the game for everyone else already? however, the fear in his eyes… and that desperate tone in his voice changed your mind as he pleaded more…

“hey! what are you talking about?” a woman called out. 

“we’re gonna die playing red light green light?” another asked. 

“don’t listen to him, that man is clearly drunk.” a younger boy, one around your age, mumbled that that woman.

the man started raising his hands, “if they catch you moving on red light, they will kill you! they will shoot you from above! stay on your toes!”

you weren’t sure if he was trying to scare everyone or protect them. however, your gut feeling started to scream at you. the same gut feeling you used to have back during your last relationship when you felt like something suspicious was going on.

your stomach turned, your nerves kicking in fast. yes, your mental health had been on a sharp, steady decline for months now. yes, you’d started to feel like maybe the world wouldn’t miss you if you were gone but you didn’t want to die. not really.  is this man being serious.

the game started, and for a moment, things were okay.  

the robotic voice called out, “green light.” and you moved slowly, and cautiously, but you moved.  

“red light.” you stopped.  

you did it again and again.  

suddenly, you heard a sound of a buzzing bee. you were scared of bees too, but the sound came from a distance. all of the sudden, a scream ran out. you didn’t think much about it until a gunshot exploded from your left.  

you flinched, hard, your knees locking from the sudden loud noise, a strangled gasp stuck in your throat. you turned your eyes (only) to see the screaming woman fall…. then another.  

for seconds, blood splattered the ground like spilled paint.  

screams erupted around you. someone bolted. another followed and more gunshots ringed out.  

you wanted to run. every fiber in your body, every thread of muscle, screamed at you to go. your adrenaline flooded you like a wave, your heart hammering against your ribs so hard you thought it would break but your mind… somehow, your mind was louder.  

if you move, you die.  

that thought buried itself in your spine. you didn’t move.  

your breath stayed trapped in your chest and your eyes stayed straight ahead.  

step by step, you forced yourself forward when it was green light and stopped instantly when it was red.  

you could hardly hear anything anymore. just the mechanical voice, your own pounding heartbeat, and the sound of bodies dropping like they meant nothing.  

when you finally crossed the line, it didn’t feel real.  

your foot touched sand and your legs collapsed beneath you.  

you sat there, heaving, chest rising in shallow, sharp movements. your vision swam.  

you’re okay, you told yourself but you weren’t.  

your lungs wouldn’t open. your fingers were numb. your mouth trembled as if trying to speak but forgetting how. you tried to breathe in and out and in and out but it felt like something inside of you was locked shut.  

you wanted to cry and you wanted to scream but all you could do was sit there on the sand, broken and breathless, while the game went on behind you.  

back in the dorms, the silence was heavy.  

you climbed to the top bunk the second the guards allowed it, wanting to be away from the crowd. you needed something to hold you, something solid. your knees still shook from earlier, and your hands hadn’t stopped trembling since your foot first hit the sand.  

you sat cross-legged, arms wrapped around yourself, your back pressed to the cold wall.  

from up there, you could see everyone.  

most people just stared forward…at the guards, at nothing. no one spoke and no one cried. shit, some people were even engaging in jokes like nothing even happened. it was like everyone had already run out of emotion.  

the guards stood tall and motionless as they offered empty congratulations. “congratulations on completing the first game.” 

you wanted to scream.  

congratulations? hundreds of people were dead.  

this wasn’t a game because this was something dystopian.  

you pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to keep your breathing slow.  

then, from the top bunk just to your right, someone shifted.  

you didn’t look right away, but you felt her eyes on you.  

when you finally glanced over, the woman gave you a crooked smirk. she sat in a strange position…knees pulled up high, feet balanced like she was on the edge of a cliff, arms folded over her thighs.  

the woman’s eyes were sharp. not unkind, just… ancient.  

“you have lessons to learn here,” she said, voice low and melodic.  

you blinked, “what?”  

“a second chance,” she went on, tilting her head, “you’re here for it. to be stripped down. maybe to see yourself. to appreciate what the pain taught you. if you listen, you might leave better than you came.”  

you stared at her, unsure whether to speak or look away.  

you did neither.  

she smiled wider, “your spirit’s been heavy for a long time. now’s the time to choose who you become.”  

you didn’t say anything because you couldn’t. what the hell were you supposed to say?

before you could make sense of her words, the guards announced the voting process.  

everyone stirred, murmurs breaking through the stillness.  

you climbed down from your bunk, boots echoing softly on the metal steps. your number hadn’t been called yet, but you didn’t want to wait.  

when they did call it…player 346…you were already on the ground.  

you stepped forward. heart pounding.  

they offered you a choice.  

a red “X” to leave.  

a blue “O” to stay.  

your hand moved before your mind caught up.  

you grabbed the blue badge and pressed it to your jacket and you didn’t know why.  

you weren’t in debt and you weren’t dying but… you didn’t have anyone waiting for you either.  

no parents. no siblings. no one to miss you.  

you just… didn’t feel like you mattered out there. maybe here, at least, you had a purpose. 

you returned to your bunk in silence with the badge cold against your chest.  

however, you think you are so alone. you are not. you didn’t notice the eyes on you from across the room.  

a man…someone who had watched you freeze with perfect control during red light, green light. someone who noticed your breathing, your panic, your will to stay still.  

you didn’t know it yet but someone had their eye on you.  

na-yeon’s father.

there were too many people…shadows with numbers, faces blurred by stress and panic. you were caught in your own storm, caught between the smell of blood and the sting of regret but he noticed you. player 246.  

the man’s eyes found you from across the dorms, and the look that crossed his face was something between horror and disbelief.  

he knew you. you were her!  

the woman behind the ice cream counter. the one who always gave na-yeon the tiniest extra scoop and called her a superstar. the one whose voice softened around his daughter, even on your worst days. the girl who made his daughter’s life better through her blood cancer issues.

you were the one who made his little girl’s eyes light up like the fireworks they never got to see.  

he watched as you took your vote to the front… calm, deliberate.  you chose to stay and he didn’t understand yet.  

what were you doing here?  

he had seen you at the park, always put together. baby blue shirt uniform with nice levi jeans, hair tied back. you looked like someone who knew how to keep moving forward.  

yet here you were, in the same green uniform as him in the same broken place.  

he had voted to leave. of course he had.  

na-yeon needed him. the moment they said “vote,” his heart had snapped back to her soft voice, her strawberry hat, her small fingers tugging at his paint-stained sleeve.  

he needed to get out since she was still fighting in the hospital.  

why did you want to stay?  

he thought of how na-yeon always came home with him and said your name like it was a gift. how she talked about your smile, how you listened to her, how you gave her “princess ice cream” even when it was too early for sweets.  

he had seen you from a distance…those rare breaks between sketching portraits at the roller coasters. he saw the way you looked at her, not just like she was someone else’s child, but like she mattered to you.  

so what happened? what changed in you that made you walk through this door and stay here?  

gyeong-seok’s thoughts threatened to spiral, but the voice interrupted everything.  

the votes were finished. blue majority.  

he closed his eyes for just a second, not just for himself, not just for his daughter but for you too.  

you didn’t belong here, and yet… now you were trapped just like him.  

part two

[butterflydm]

Additional 3x05 thoughts

Spoilers through 3x05 of the show and through A Memory of Light in the books.

It does crack me up how Egwene INSTANTLY breaks her word to the Wise Ones. You've had a single night of training, girl! I mean, also very book canon - promising that she isn't going to mess around by herself in the dream only to proceed to do it constantly is fully book canon. That plus the fact that she is definitely letting them believe she's full Aes Sedai like she did in the books does make me think she's going to need to 'meet her toh' to the Wise Ones before she parts from them, like she does in the books.

We really do need 3x06 to fully judge the fallout of the Randgwene breakup but right now it's the only plotline that I'm like "idk if this is a change that improves the books". It's certainly more High Drama than an amicable parting would be, but in a way that can potentially flatten both Egwene and Rand in the eyes of viewers - Egwene by turning her into a symbol of a Perfect Woman Done Wrong; and Rand into a symbol of Cheating Man Never To Be Trusted.

Avirand continues to be perfection (which is why I'm trying to be "okay okay let the show cook" over Randgwene's break-up, because all of the Rand & Aviendha scenes; and our two Rand & Elayne scenes, were so wonderful).

I do want to rewatch the Moiraine & Siuan scene, for sure (I mean, I'll rewatch the whole thing this weekend lol), because I was getting "shit maybe they ARE killing off Siuan and/or Moiraine for real" vibes from how much closure the two of them got, but it could be foreshadowing for a long separation because of Moiraine moving to Finnland. Moiraine specifically saying that she's (Moiraine) not at the Last Battle, though...

Delaying the vote in the Hall because Siuan and Elaida have (temporarily) come to terms with each other really worked. I liked everything in the White Tower plotline.

Alanna and Maksim's plotline really got to me! Their mutual but clashing grief over Ihvon, and how they finally come back to each other at the end. <3

Perrin's plotline also really worked to cement Faile as someone that he cares about -- her insisting on coming with, and being a key part of saving him (and the shot of the two of them near the end of their scene in the Whitecloak camp reminded me, framing-wise, of Rand & Elayne's first meeting. Can't explain why. Vibes).

Everything with the Sea Folk ship plotline was great. I finally got the conversation between Min & Mat that I wanted in the previous episodes, where Mat mentions the vision of him stabbing Rand! I loved Elayne & Nynaeve learning about the Sea Folk. <3

And Elayne still wistfully thinking of Aviendha even as we're hearing Aviendha talk about how she doesn't get how monogamous relationships can even function and how you need more than one partner -- all of that feels like a great set-up for future Avirandlayne.

So, yeah, the only part I'm like... idk if I feel like this change works is the Randgwene stuff. Both Josha and Maddy talked in interviews in ways that implied that we would actually be getting broken-up Randgwene growing into being post-breakup friends, but with such a High Drama ending between them and only one episode afterwards (since 3x07 is a full Perrin/Two Rivers episode), it's hard to see how we get there. Their breakup in the books doesn't have a "bad guy" so I'm kinda sad that it feels like Rand is gonna be the "bad guy" in their breakup in the show.

[stewdoesthings]

I love Sandy because of how little we know about her. She's described as different from the other greaser girls and sweet and genuinely happy with Soda. She doesn't have any line of dialogue, she doesn't even have a last name. I like that I can do what I want with her.

But back to the book. We learn that she moved to Florida while Pony and Johnny were away because it was "either that or get married", meaning Sandy was pregnant. Darry tells Pony Soda's not the father but that Soda wanted to marry her anyways. That part is really important to me because Soda loved her so much he forgave her.

As for the cheating part, I don't really believe she cheated on Soda. I like that in the school plays she leaves because she has to escape her home life. There are many ways you can interpret her reasons to leave, maybe she did cheat, maybe she didn't but didn't want to burden Soda, maybe it was her only way to escape. I think she might've been assaulted but that's a really dark headcanon. I also like thinking that those are just rumors people say about her because we haven't been shown any signs that she didn't love Soda as much as he did or any reason why she'd cheat on him. Sylvia on the opposite cheats on Dally when he's in jail, so at least she has a reason to, but Sandy just didn't have one.

Lastly, I'm truly sorry about your personal experiences with cheating. I'm not trying to defend people who hurt their partner's trust like that, I'm simply defending my personal interpretation of Sandy.

Sorry for the rant but I don't think I've made a post like this yet and I wanted to share my opinions.

To all the Sandy lovers out there...why? Why do you like her so much? She cheated in Sodapop, got pregnant with another man's child, then wrote a LETTER telling him all of that and that she was moving to Florida.

What's the appeal? Genuine question.

[makorragal-312]

Okay.

So this might be an unpopular opinion (or maybe not), but as a bi woman, I would be fucking PISSED if Buck and Eddie ended up kissing or hooking up during the bachelor party.

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 47

Today’s board is:

It’s been so long since we’ve had a Giggles board!! Here she is, quite well rested.

(From TV episode 12A I’ve Got You Under my Skin)

[coquelicoq]

fmk is so hard because i never want to marry any of them. i get that that's how it works and i don't want to kill people either (or fuck them??? aroaceacidal represent ig) but marrying people even in the realm of thought experiments is so hard to wrap my mind around that it makes the game quite stressful. there is only one person i've ever wanted to marry and that person is fictional character meng zhi from nirvana in fire. from now on i am only playing fmk under the stipulation that he can be one of the three people.

[genericpuff]

Hey so uhh about the Kawacy vampire comic my friend apparently is a fan and they said that it isn't grooming because the usual "He only loves her when she's an adult" and say that he also protect her from "actual predators"

[righteousdelusions]

your weakness and unwillingness to ask for what you deserve has condemned you to a life of dissatisfaction

[evadingreallife]

I was at a friends place for dinner tonight and i had one of the most surreal conversations of my life with her brother about whether or not you should hypothetically forgive and accept a partner cheating on you

[jeanralphiosbf]

wanting/needing external reassurance in regards to my ship(s) is maybe the most embarrassing thing everrr

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you�� more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

[lovelybucky1]

Oooohh i have a request!:

Playing “never have i ever” or something like that with logan and wade (maybe along the lines of a boring friday night with nothing else to do) and you admit to never having an orgasm by anyone but yourself

Flash forward you’re in logan’s arms and wade is eating the fuck out of your pussy, and then they switch 👀👀

i’ve written something similar two the second part here, but i love the never have i ever idea! // divider from @strangergraphics

boredom isn’t something heroes are used to. there’s always something happening somewhere, someone needing to be saved. but tonight, everything is quiet. the three of you were suspicious at first, but you checked every police scanner, news outlet, and all of your contacts and came up with nothing. the bad guys had decided to take an evening off, and now you were stuck with nothing to do.

you, wade, and logan all sit around in the living room with bottles of beer. you and wade stare at the mindless gameshow on tv while logan rests his eyes. you’re definitely bored, but wade is restless. it’s like he’s itching for something to do, like his body is physically unable to handle the inactivity.

“why don’t we play a game?” wade asks, startling logan awake.

the two of you look over at wade. “what kind of game?” you ask.

“i don’t know, ‘never have i ever?’”

logan rolls his eyes, then shuts them again. he’ll deny any “old man” comments, but he really is one. you elbow logan in the side and he opens them again.

“come on, it’ll be fun,” wade pleads.

“it’s not like we have anything better to do,” you say to logan. reluctantly, he agrees.

you reposition yourselves in the living room. you sit on the couch, leaned against the arm with your feet in logan’s lap, who sits on the other end. wade sits on the floor by the coffee table, his beer on the table without a coaster next to him.

“this is your game, wilson. you start,” logan says before taking a sip of his beer.

“no, don’t drink! you only drink if you’ve done the thing i say,” wade scoffs. how can logan be so old and still know nothing about fun? “okay, okay. never have i ever… gotten arrested.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him while logan takes a drink. you’re almost certainly wade has been arrested before. “i don’t think you’re playing this game right,” you say. “you have to say things you’ve never done.”

wade scoffs. “i haven’t been arrested, thank you very much. all the cops who’ve tried have mysteriously ended up with broken noses.”

you roll your eyes at him. “my turn now? never have i ever… cheated on a partner.”

both of them take drinks, wade with more shame than logan. ugh, men.

then it’s logan’s turn. “never have i ever worn a dress.”

you figure it’s targeted at you, just because logan’s a dick, but to your surprise, wade drinks too. logan raises his eyebrow at him, silently urging him to elaborate.

“you wish you saw that, huh, peanut?” he taunts instead. logan makes a face at that.

“i’m thankin’ god i didn’t have to.”

you play a couple more rounds, all three of you exchanging stories and sipping from your bottles. it takes a lot to get them drunk, but you’re starting to feel it. there’s a collection of empty bottles, mostly beer, but halfway through the game, wade decided to up the ante with some liquor.

it’s wade’s turn again and he says, “never have i ever been with two guys at once.”

he means it as a joke. he doesn’t expect anyone to drink. there’s no way logan would do something like that, and you’re too innocent. that’s why his eyes practically pop out of his head when you throw back the shot.

the game turned sexual a few rounds ago, but it was pretty mild stuff. talk about doing stuff in public, kinks, freaky shit like that. nothing as interesting as this.

both wade and logan turn their full attention to you, eager to hear this story.

“what?” you play dumb.

“two guys at once?” wade asks. you shrug.

“it wasn’t anything.”

“nah,” logan says, sounding interested for the first time all game. “you gotta tell us.”

you sigh. “it was a while ago. i met this couple at a bar and they said they were looking for a third. i had nothing better to do and they were both hot, so…” you trail off, shrugging again.

“give us the gory details. how’d you do it? daisy chain?eiffel tower? double cowgirl? triple spooning? come on, tell us,” wade rambles.

“you’re a fucking perv,” you tell him and he doesn’t deny it. “it was just normal dp.”

logan raises an eyebow. “that stands for double penetration,” wade tells him.

“i know that. i’m just wondering how you took it all,” logan says.

you’re used to this kind of talk from wade. the man thinks with his dick so much that you question if he even has a brain. you’re not, however, used to this from logan. he’s no prude, but he usually doesn’t participate in these kinds of conversations with wade.

“must’ve been a tight fit,” logan adds on.

you look between the men and their interested faces. you’re still pretty bored, the game having grown stale a while ago, and now you’re a tipsy. you want something exciting and right now, you’re feeling bold enough to persue it.

“do you wanna see?” you ask them.

wade and logan share a glance, but it only takes a second before they’re replying “yes” in unison.