#my domestic fluffy bitches

[daisy-the-wild-flower]

Everyone is so domestic in season 4 and I love it.

(Spoilers)

Sarah and John B with the rings and the side hugs and the cute kisses on the head. Her being constantly worried and making sure he's okay. If they don't actually get married I may cry bc wth they act like an old married couple already.

JJ and Kie literally being themselves but still somehow showing how in love they are. Her smiles when he's being typical JJ. His constant worry and protectiveness over her. The tank <3 The date <3. I hope this season doesn't hurt them.

And then Cleo and Pope. First off, Hayward hugging her like his own child in ep1. I'm dead from that. The Handshake. The smiles. The way they are always there for eachother. The way he's always supporting her even when she's super upset and could probably commit murder. The way she casual tries to make out with him in the truck.

I can't even decide who I love more this season. They are all the main characters and I genuinely think this is my favorite season so far character wise. So much change and growth while still keeping them the same. I'm living for it guys.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ to have & to hold ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you allow him to possess you entirely, body & soul┊1.2k words

kinktober 2024: oct 8. virginity loss

setting: logan (2017) old man! logan contains: fluffy smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊age gap, virginity loss, receiving oral & fingering, unprotected piv, abrupt ending

➤ author's note: i’m sorry for this being short and the abrupt ending, i’m just so tired from college because my substitute professor is a bitch and i have to work twice as hard just to get a 70% T-T the single mother reader is ending up to have three parts so look forward to that when kinktober is over teeheehee

your old man isn’t sure what kind of small deed of goodwill he must have done decades ago to deserve you, but it makes him perform more of them in his day-to-day life thanks to the existence of the biggest blessing of his miserable life. every time he comes back after a long day of work and dealing with customers of varying irritation levels, there you are patiently waiting for him no matter how late into the night it was. you help take off his suit jacket and tie in well-rehearsed moments, whistling a little old-timey tune on your lips and asking him how his day was.

he’s never really been a talkative guy, so most of the time he’ll just say it was fine and leave it at that, but occasionally, he’s willing to complain and vent about something that happened that got on his nerves. all the while, you’re finishing off a freshly cooked meal with garnish and serving it to him with a smile, listening to everything he has to say and massaging his weary muscles. 

usually, however, you’re the one doing all of the talking, telling him about what happened today at work with that annoying co-worker and how you got invited to the wedding of an old friend from high school. he settles himself in the worn leather recliner and feels himself relax with your voice almost acting like a form of meditative music, and even if he doesn’t look like it, he listens to every word— you can tell because he doesn’t turn the newspaper page once and asks little questions like “who?” “when did that happen?” “is that so?” instead of just humming deafly.

he doesn’t even remember how you ended up moving in with him and acting like his housewife, giving him a taste of domestic life he didn’t realize he was yearning for. you’re just a stubborn little lady, he guesses, remaining persistent about how much you liked him despite his claims that you should steer clear of a bad man like him. he’s glad it ended up that way though, he couldn’t imagine where he would be without you by his side if you listened to him and went off with a human your own age who didn’t have the shackles he did. 

there’s always a bit of lingering guilt regarding the last part, worried that he’s holding you back from fully experiencing life like a ball and chain bound to your ankle, but you were an adult who was mature enough to make your own decisions. if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have spent over a year trying to pursue it with someone as headstrong as him. 

sometimes logan dozes off in that armchair, allowing you to drape a blanket over him and place a kiss on his forehead with a whisper of sweet dreams for the cherry on top. sometimes you coax him to join you in bed where it’s more comfortable, tangling your legs with his and clinging onto his frame like he was a giant living teddy bear. maybe he’ll do the same if he’s feeling particularly soft tonight instead of sleeping on his back like a soldier on active duty would. both of you always get a night of better sleep in the presence of the other, holding onto the dead weight of the other’s still body, feeling the slow rise and fall of their chest, and listening to their steady heartbeat.

yet your relationship had never gone past heated makeout sessions, not until tonight when you pleaded with him so sweetly to help you relieve the ache between your legs that you couldn’t fix yourself.

he’s hesitant at first, surprised at the slight and unfamiliar feeling of fear tugging at his consciousness. is this really okay? is a lovely angel like you really asking a dirty old man like him with the blood of dozens on his hands to be your first experience of something so intimate? he’s profoundly aware that he’s never been a good man, but maybe he would start now and let you go in your own direction…

before he could say anything, you reach out to kiss him, so tender and full of adoration to ease his worries. the way you look at him while gasping his name and making pleas for him is almost overwhelming with how blown-out your pupils are from need, looking at him like he was the only other soul in the world— like he was the only other soul in the universe who was meant to complete you.

he asks you one more time if you’re sure, absolutely sure, before taking the opportunity to 

taste the sweetness of your arousal and quickly realize that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get enough anymore, scraping at the soft skin of your inner thighs with his beard although the pressure in your core overpowered the feeling of friction. your hands find their way into his graying hair and tug on them whenever he swirls his tongue around your engorged clit, making him groan and repeat the motion until you gush all over his mouth.

then he drags a calloused finger along your folds, collecting your slick and instinctively licking his lips at the sight of it despite just eating you out seconds before. his eyes aren’t really what they used to be, he briefly wishes he had his glasses on so that he could watch your virgin pussy take his index followed by his middle. even if he can’t quite see it clearly, he can certainly feel your walls pulsating at the intrusion as you let out a breathy whine.

you feel a bit dizzy already from your first proper orgasm, much less from the pleasurable stretch of his fingers starting to move in a scissoring motion as your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how intently he was staring like a man hypnotized. if you were in your right mind, you would have asked him to quit it, but all you were focused on was the unfamiliar feeling of tension in your torso while he praised how tight you were.

logan is exhibiting more gentleness with you than he’s ever been with anything in all his two hundred years, scared of hurting you and treating you like a fragile porcelain doll. you basically need to beg him to fuck you right because you worry you’ll be far too exhausted to continue if he continues like this, already reaching peak at least three times now and needing to pull at his belt to free his throbbing erection.

kiss him when he lines himself up with you and slowly pushes in, allowing you to feel every inch of him and taste yourself on his lips. claw long scratches into his back as you take him, allowing his regenerative powers slowly take effect yet still being able to leave lasting marks in his skin for him to admire the next day. tell him you love him when he finally bottoms out in you, watching him through teary eyes as he rests his forehead on yours, and listen to his beating heart open up to you as he tells you he does too.

[muzansfangs]

How they eat you out.

Starring: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; Shinji Hirako x f!reader; Isshin Kurosaki x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, language, dirty talk, overstimulation, shibari, vaginal fingering, oral sex (reader!receiving), daddy kink, marking the partner, hair pulling, praise kink, possessiviness, pussy slapping, edging, orgasm denial, dom!Grimmjow, dom!Shinji, dom!Isshin, small age gap between Isshin and the reader, sub!reader;

Plot: they love you, they love you so much that giving you oral has become an art for them. But they all have a different style, their own unique way of doing it. How do they eat you out? What do they do to make you melt under their skilful tongue?

PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

This man is a menace. A predator, he is keen to devour you messily, obviously. When he eats you out, Grimmjow makes you feel like a hapless antelope chased down the savanna by a leopard, caged in his chokehold, quite literally. His nails felt like claws digging onto your thighs to keep you in place at his mercy. In his shimmering piercing blue eyes, you did not fail to recognize the panther living inside of him. Grimmjow was a wild animal, you had to deal with it.

When he feasted on you, he always did it as if he was a starving man. He lapped, groaned, manhandled you to accomodate you in a position he enjoyed the most in that very moment and he even slapped your pussy, if you dared to protest.

Albeit he could be rough, though, he would have never hurt you.

Grimmjow was not a man prone to pour his heart out in tear-jerker love confessions. After telling you he liked you, he meant it and confined himself to territorial gestures and passionate nights of lust and love. His ownership over you was already established, yet he loved to remind you of how deeply he cared about you and your ultimate pleasure by spending hours with his face buried between your legs.

He could never get enough of you, of your taste, of the way you writhed beneath the licks he gave you. His tongue lapped at your core non-stop, his feline eyes scrutinizing in delight the way your face scrunched up, as he made you navigate the different seas of lust and pleasure.

As you laid on your back, his hands keeping your legs spread in front of his face, his mouth worked on your pussy to make sure not a single inch of your flesh was left untouched. You could swear you had even heard him growl as you bucked your hips up erratically. As a reflex, your knees spasmed and you attempted to close your legs. Wrong choice. Terrible accident.

“Keep your fucking legs like that, woman” he rasped out, forcing them back down as he shot you a resentful glare through his lashes.

You whimpered, hands covering your face in dispair as you panted “G–Grimmjow, baby, I’m sorry! It’s too much…” you gingerly whined, only to hear him snort and flick his tongue over your sensitive clit as a delectable form of punishment.

“You better be sorry. Look at you, soaking wet, and trying to rob me of my meal. Stop bitching around” he chided you, making you gawk as your hand reached out to grasp a pillow and you playfully hit him with it over his head.

This was such a natural course of events for you two. Moments of domestic tenderness and play time paired up with steamy activities. Maybe, deep down, you had truly tamed him!

Grimmjow groaned and slapped your folds as a payback, making you regret having chuckled at him and his dumbfounded expression the moment the fluffy pillow had landed on his face. Had you, by any chance, forgotten who was in charge? The audacity of acting like an alpha, when he was supposed to be the one, at least in bed, was surely going too far.

“You little pest, you know what? I’m done tongue-fucking you. On your hands and knees, now” the blue-haired former Espada ordered you, standing back up and unbuckling his belt right before your now rounded eyes.

Oh, well, your little stunts always led to him sheathing himself deep into you and hours spent in sitting down with a certain discomfort. Little did he know you always tried to piss him off to get pinned down like that and, honestly, he did not feel like complaining.

Not when he could mark you down over and over again.

Shinji Hirako.

Your boyfriend and his unhealthy, enervating, obnoxious obsession for doing things in unconventional ways had repercussions on sex too at times. While it was always an enjoyable experience, there were days it could lead you to insanity. Shinji loved to vary. You surely could not say sex with him was static, basic. On the contrary, it was appallingly turbolent. Along with loving to give you oral, Shinji literally put you in every possible position humanly practicable.

Upside down, preferably.

Dangling from the ceiling, ropes meticulously tying your limbs, you whimpered at the feeling of Shinji’s pierced tongue flicking your bundle of nerves. Your body shrieked, jaw going slack as your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy the sensation to its fullest. His sarcastic and infuriatingly childish attitude were reflected by his actions. He was born to tease you, to break you down piece by piece, until you were nothing but a whining mass of sweat and pleas.

“Your hole clenching around nothing is calling me, babe. Can you hear it whisper to me? Atta girl, you’re doing so fuckin’ good for me” your boyfriend crooned, his lips still hovering over your dripping sex, amber eyes drifting down your body until he made eye-contact with you.

Arching your back, a breathy moan ripped from your throat, your movements restricted by the ropes amplifying your perception to the maximum level “Shinji! Baby, please, just … Just add a finger, I can’t do this anymore” you begged him, teary eyes meeting his cunning ones, through your eyelashes.

Honestly, you had lost count of how many times he had brought you close to the edge only to let you down on the verge of your orgasm. He loved watching you bewailing, wiggling around, when all you could do was begging him to just finish you off. It was satisfying, amusing even.

“Damn, this greedy pussy’s so hungry for me. Have you heard her, babe? She wants a finger to fill her up! Fine, fine, I think it’s time to feed her. Brace yourself” Shinji casually chimed them, eyeing you amusedly with his characteristic shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

He was overly sassy, when it came down to you and your presumably pathetic antics. Testing your endurance, your patience, your self-control were delectable activities he loved to involve in your intercourses. His divious ways of unraveling you piece by piece, watching you unfold before his sharp eyes radiated a very much unparalleled sadistic aura you had never seen in anyone else before him.

The moment he glided his finger down your slit, temporizing for a little longer around your opening, before finally burying his finger into you, made you almost sob in need. Eyes squeezed shut, you shrieked, foreteeth sinking onto your lower lip almost causing it to bleed. It was still not enough, you needed more, you needed him.

Your feeble protests did not go unnoticed, though, and your partner was kind of feeling guilty for having edged you for so long. He sighed, ducking his face back down to your heat, darting his tongue out to swirl it over your clitoris. Adding a second finger, he began to scissor them into you at a fast tempo, the silver sphere on his tongue stimulating you in the right spots.

“Shinji! Babe, I’m— Shit!” you cried out in ecstasy, the pleasure coiling on your lower abdomen making it hard for you to stammer out a sensible speech.

Out of your head, breathless, knackered, you arched your spine and the sound of your strained moan eachoed through the walls of your empty flat. Finally, he had let you reach your pined climax. Chin glistening, coated by your juices, Shinji took a step back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

That smug smile of his never ceased to make butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Your pussy has such ‘a foul mouth’, when I eat her out. Yer should tell her to behave, damn it” he jested, earning a tired eye-roll from your behalf. Asking him to keep his attitude on check was the equivalent of talking to a wall.

“Untie me now, Hikaro Shinji. Or I will be delighted to show you how foul my mouth can really be” you countered back, only for him to snicker and begin to loosen up the ropes restraining your limbs.

After all, you were both far from being done and you were sure as hell not going to let his tantrum slide that easily.

Isshin Kurosaki.

The things this man would do for you go beyond your fervid imagination. He is not a boy, he is a man, husband material to be precise. Isshin knows how to please a woman and, according to him, the best part about giving you pleasure and incommensurable bliss is watching you unfold before his adoring eyes. One thing about him: you are his queen and priority. He would literally neglect his own urges and needs to take care or yours.

“I think I will skip the dessert tonight” Isshin announced, wiping his mouth with a napkin, eying you through his dark eyelashes from the other side of the table.

You knew exactly what he meant by that and you unconsciously found yourself pressing your thighs together under the table.

“You skip the dessert, but maybe you have had too much wine” you teased him back, albeit you played along his goofy game of seduction and shot a coquettish gaze towards him.

Isshin grinned and stood up, stretching his arms over his head, before he circled the table and stopped right next to you. His eyes devoured you, as he dragged your chair along the floor, parting you from the table with ease. He always made you feel as light as a feather, his strength something he was so proud of.

Cocking your head to the side questioningly, you flicked your gaze up to him “What are you up to now?” you inquired, watching the way he dropped to his knees right in front of you. He had insisted for you to wear that dress all day long and now you could finally see why he had been a literal pest.

His hands carefully hiked up the flowy skirt of your dress, his smile widening as you did not hesitate to be collaborative and hold it up in your hands while be settled his hands on each of your rotula, cupping it and pushing your legs apart for him. When he went down on you, Isshin never put you through too much trouble. He specifically asked you to simply enjoy the experience and pull at his hair. He spoiled you, he lavished you.

His hot breath fanning your clothed sex made you suck in a breath and he leisurely tugged the hem of your panties to the side to expose your folds to his longing eyes.

“Hush, baby, let daddy enjoy his well-deserved dessert, alright? I need it so badly, baby. It’s been so long since I did it” he dramatized the situation, eliciting a chuckle from you as his tongue tickled your clit.

“But, daddy, you did it yesterday morning on your desk! – you pointed out, lolling your head back as you securely tangled your fingers between his hair, tugging at them gently – Was it not enough?” you asked him, hips bucking up unintentionally and pulling a husky grunt out of him.

Enough? Of course it was not enough. This man loved nipping, lapping and sucking your pussy dry. He needed to do it, at least, twice a day.

Before his tongue could finally dive into your wet cavern, he knitted his eyebrows together, scoffing “That’s offensive. You left me starving, darling. Let daddy be happy, please, be a good girl” he pleaded you, his mouth leaving a sloppy kiss over your pubes before his tongue made you see stars.

Keeping it low with him was impossible. Either you laughed out loud, or you let out pornographic screams of pleasure hard not to hear down the streets.

Especially, when he left the window open for letting people covet what was rightfully his.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m so glad I have finally completed this series! Maybe, one day, when my requests will be opened again, I will add other characters too but as for now let’s just enjoy these ones. As per usual, your support means a lot! Thanks for having read this piece and I hope you’ve drawn enough enjoyment to simp for those folks. Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated! Also, writing for Isshin has been hell on Earth, help🥹

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @brittscafe @kr0wu @kryptoniteforsale

[kaiserio]

Seishiro Nagi x Corporate Worker!Reader

A short drabble on coming home to Nagi after a long shift in the office🩵

wc: 639

cw: none, just domestic, fluffy Nagi!

Nagi doesn’t quite understand your way of life. He’s told you time and time again that you don’t need to work. He earns enough to comfortably support your lifestyle. And as much as you appreciate this, your pride and eagerness to make your way up the corporate ladder means that you still (reluctantly) drag yourself to your dull office job Monday to Friday. Nagi just doesn’t get it.

Much like he doesn’t understand how much you do on a day to day basis. ‘Sats? Average handling time? Aftercall? Direct Debit payments?’ Nah. Never heard of her.

When you drag yourself into your shared apartment after a particularly ball-busting 9-5, Nagi will always be found in one of two places; the sofa, or your bed. Always horizontal, always with his face in a mobile game.

Today was Thursday. A working day which resulted in nothing but non-stop meetings with rude clients. Your head is battered, you’re tired physically and mentally, and to put it bluntly, you look like how you feel.

On days like this, you lug yourself up the stairs to your apartment, one by one. You enter the living room, drop your bag to the floor and slump yourself down on the sofa by Nagi’s feet (because OF COURSE he’s having some horizontal time, what else?🤭)

You sit in silence for a moment. You huff once, twice, three times….. Nothing. You huff again, extra loud and dramatically. He finally lowers his phone from his face. “Oh, hey.”

This is the point that your rant begins. Nagi may not be the most attentive boyfriend, but he is wonderful to spill the tea to. He always seems like he isn’t listening, but in reality he clings on to every word you say. He’s all caught up on the workplace scandals, who is your colleague sleeping with now?? He knows each name. Is your manager still being a bitch??? A question that he asks regularly.

He lets you let it out. All that pent up anger and frustration that built up during that 7 hour shift. Once your rant is over, you sigh and revel in the moment of silence that follows.

You look back at Nagi, who is still looking at you intently, his slate grey eyes examining every inch of your face. He doesn’t say anything, but just opens his arms, inviting you into his soft embrace. You fold immediately, climbing over his legs and slumping on top of him. You breathe in his scent and you’re overcome with instant relief.

Have you ever smelled the Men’s Green Fragrance by Ralph Lauren? That’s what Nagi smells like. At. All. Times. It’s such a comfort to you.

He wraps one arm lazily around your waist, and his other hand strokes through your hair for a moment whilst he places a series of tender pecks to your forehead.

“You can quit anytime, you know. You don’t have to ask me.” He mumbles into your hair.

“I know.” You reply. “But not now. I’ll get there one day.”

“Sure you will. Because you’re awesome. And beautiful. And I love you.” Nagi tells you nonchalantly whilst picking his phone up with his free hand. “Anytime you’re ready babe.” Your heart swells. How can someone so detached be so precious?

You don’t say anything in return, but you nuzzle your head into his chest further and just take some time to breathe. To be y/n, and not just a number in a corporate company.

Nagi may not be the perfect boyfriend. He’s messy, he’s lazy, he sometimes seems distant and acts a bit silly. But he’ll be damned if the one he loves feels worthless, or stressed because of work. One thing he will always do, is be there with open arms ready to embrace you at the end of a shitty, shitty shift.

My first ever bllk piece🤭 Honestly - this is just me being sick of work and projecting with a hint of Nagi. I actually wrote this during work whilst multitasking looool, please mind any errors 🩵

[upmost-rylan]

S/O DATING THE CREEPYPASTAS *✧⁺˚⁺ପ(๑・ω・)੭ु⁾⁾

Author's note:

This was just supposed to be a #Rylan Rambles but u h I may have gone too far. So THIS IS MESSY SINCE I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. so please don't expect anything good, I am good at art not story things.

T.w.:

for Eyeless Jack's part is cannibalism ofc

Jeff the killer

Jeff's type is very motherly like he loves a partner who's sweet but will basically drag him by the ear and lecture him for being a bitch. he is loving and sweet in his own way BUT you do have to have thick skin. at least for a while. he'll be throwing every insult in the book at you trying to get you away from him. he is scared of being vulnerable. So as he figures out his emotions it'll definitely be rough for a while and if you play into the "bit" and insulting him back, HE'D BE BLUSHING thinking you know how he feels. Be prepared since that'll be you two's love language! But for anyone who wants a relationship with this man there will definitely be some obstacles with him not being able to properly communicate his emotions in a healthy manner, his anger issues, the fact that this is probably his first ever relationship so it'll be rocky no matter what you do. But when you get over those obstacles and you are still there holding his hand with a smile you'll have a boyfriend FOR LIFE. Also become a sweetheart for those who love the idea of Jeff being soft to his partner.

Eyeless jack

His type to me personally is someone who treats him like he is a normal human being. That's it that's the one thing that'll make him fall head over heels in LOVE with you. But bonus points if you like to crack jokes and puns those ALWAYS make him laugh! He is a simple demon. However, THIS relationship is very much a MESS for at least the first half of it, you're in a relationship with a giant fluffy demon who eats human flesh did you expect it to be normal? This relationship is definitely a game of tug of war of him wanting to basically make you his dinner and wanting to keep you around because he loves you. You'd have to walk a really thin line to make sure this demon doesn't take one of your kidneys. But after a LONG while he'd start to actually act normal for the MOST part. Listen, I love to imagine this guy to be VERY creaturely. you know this if you have seen my design of him after a one or two years of being around you and not eating you; he leave a corpse (whether it's human or animal up to you) at your door like it's some gift from one giant cat.

Tim Wright/Masky

Tim/Masky's type is very "wife"-like if that makes sense (I headcanon him to be Bi-romantic Ace-spec so gender doesn't matter) like Tim to me loves the idea of having the white picit fence dream! it lets him feel like he's normal even for abit. Loves the idea of coming home from work to hug his partner from behind as he watches them cook dinner. Very domestic very demure. To most he's a pretty rough guy considering Masky but to me he's definitely a softy. compliment him and he'll be putty in your hands. 10/10 would 10000% smooch. But you two definitely sometimes have some trouble especially when Masky takes over. With that one YOU WILL N O T be able to sleep. every time you try to sleep be prepared to be shaken awake because masky finds it funny to startle you awake.

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Listen we had Tim now we gotta do Brian, THEY ARE TWO PEAS IN A BOD YALL👏. His type to me personally is just a funny good vibes person, who loves being on the go and not in one place for too long. Now, this relationship is basically MADE OUT OF POSITIVE VIBES. Brian to me is definitely the type to praise his partner AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY he is a absolute sweetheart. You'd also definitely love him if you like nature walks and hikes. You definitely had to be the first to confess though because if you didn't this situation would definitely be just mutual pining. Also definitely the type to always be following behind his partner since I like to think bro is a TALL man, he wants you to see whats Infront of you and not block the way. His nickname for his partner something nature relationship "duckling" "lil mushroom" "sunshine" or something similar!

[frozenmoonshine]

Headcanon - Hanma Shuuji as your boyfriend

Ok, I hate myself for writing this, 'cause I hate this bitch just as much as Pissaki, but I've been fighting my intrusive fluffy thoughts about him and they won, sooo here they are:

Beware of insinuated hetero relationship, f!reader, and common terms of endearment.

He's a flirt, definitely. He knows he gets lots of attention from the fairer sex simply for being tall and good looking, but he also loves the fact that he's a smooth talker and can get pretty much any girl to fall for him. And he's not better than doing just that, simply because he needs some amusement in his life. Talk about being a piece of shit, going around breaking hearts for fun.

‌However, if he genuinely falls for someone, he basically does a 180⁰ turn and is the most loyal lover you could get! He will, most definitely and undeniably, try to make his SO jealous by casually flirting left and right, just because he can, and he enjoys seeing your frustrated, annoyed, jealous face. However, if you get jealous or hurt for real, he will genuinely freak out, and will try his best to reassure you that he loves you and that he was just messing with you. You are the only one for him, after all, his safe haven and his light! If he realizes that he stepped overboard with his "jokes", he will change his behaviour immediately. Idk why, but he just gives me the vibe of someone who perfectly understands boundaries, and he will choose to honor his commitments.

‌He himself is not jealous at all, and no matter what you may do, he wouldn't get jealous. The bastard is just so cocky and aware of his desirability (even tho he overestimates himself quite a lot), it's unnerving! But unless he straight up catches you "red handed" with another guy, he won't be jealous in the slightest. And if that happens, if you do cheat on him, then he might just beat your side piece to a pulp, and walk out on you like you never even existed. He will be heartbroken about it for a long time, tho.

‌Don't do him dirty, even as annoying and flawed as he is, he is still worth it! He can be super loving and affectionate in private, and he will be your no. 1 cheerleader, in whatever you're aspiring to achieve. Tell him all about your adventures tho, he loves a good story!

‌He gets too easily bored, so he would fall head over heels for someone who can engage him in deep and interesting conversations, and be a bit of a tease as well, just enough to always keep him on the edge of his seat, but not to overdo it. After all, he is the tease one in the relationship, and he doesn't like the idea of giving up that title.

‌Speaking of him being a tease... yes, he's absolutely insufferable! In every sense. (Yes, that too!)

‌Dates with him are always so random and spontaneous, like, he'd take you on a bike ride to the beach at 3 AM, and you'd make sand castles in the dead of the night, just because. It's totally not because he's secretly a hopeless romantic and wanted to watch the sunrise with you, btw. Or he might get you out of your school/work just to take you to the rooftop of the highest building in his neighborhood, where you guys can throw water baloons on the passers-by down there, and photograph their reactions. Or you two would be in a middle of a rollercoaster ride and he'd scream into your ear: "Babe, let's go have a picnic in the woods, this ride is boring!" The worst best part - his idea of a "picnic" is pranking hikers by making weird noises. At least one thing is for sure with him - there is never a single dull moment!

‌But even as the chaos elemental that he is, he is actually looking for (inner) peace. He would want to feel safe and taken care of in a relationship, and I can picture him falling for his childhood friend. If not that, then he'd definitely go for the cozy, domestic, girl-next-door type. Despite what he shows to the outer world, he just craves familiarity and warmth.

‌His friend-turned-girlfriend definitely calls him Shuu-chan. He pretends it annoys him, but there's nothing he loves hearing more. And I will die on that hill if need be!

[logansargey]

I just got a vivid maxiel fic idea and I need to write it down and share it bc I MAY or MAY NOT write the full fic. Okay so,

Alternate Universe: Maxiel college

Where Max and Daniel are in college but barely know each other besides through their friend group. And Daniel mentions he needs a room mate bc his last one moved out (Daniel is closer to his age so he's in his 3rd in college and Max is in his 2nd) and Max hears it and decides to move in with him bc he also needs a place to stay bc he's currently couch surfing.

And they're kinda awkward at first until one night when Max has a date and Daniel kind of feels a certain way but he can't describe why and just, kind of puts it off. And he sees the date and realizes that they're beautiful and feels jealous. Daniel just thinks he's jealous of Max for pulling a pretty girl (news flash, it's not) blah blah blah, the date ends bad, max comes home pissed and Daniel has to comfort him. Like makes him soup bc they're college kids and did you really think they could afford anything but ramen and canned soup? He comforts Max on the couch and realizes, he could get used to this.

They then fall into a routine through the days/weeks after. They come on to each other after classes. One makes a meal for both, they sit on the couch (sometimes cuddling) talk abt their day, play games, slowly fall in love (yk, the usual)

But good things can't last forever and Jos (EWWWW W) shows up to talk some sense (in the way you woukd think Jos would) to Max abt how he's wasting his early life being in college for a shitty career choice. (Daniel's getting a degree in art bc I love that idea, and Max is getting one in like, teaching but his dad wants him to be in business)

Daniel gets pissed and starts yelling at Jos, defending Max and Jos throws a hissy fit and leaves. He tells Max to make up his mind and Max decides he's right and goes home. BUT FUCKIN REGRETS IT!!

Daniel's alone in their his apartment, one empty bedroom, the plants Max had are still there though, Jimmy and Sassy are gone, Max's college books he always leaves messily on the dining table are gone, his fluffy blankets that normally stay on the couch are gone. And then Daniel realizes.

He's in love with Max verstappen

He doesn't take it well, freaks out at first bc wtf?!? He starts calling his friends and telling them he is, and everyone is like "duh??? Normal ppl don't live as domestically as you guys do." Daniel starts blowing up Max's phone but he won't fuckin answer. This goes on for a few days. All his friends are giving him looks of pity, telling him they miss Max too, but it's for the better.

One night, after Daniel just got home after a long day of classes, it's in the early a.m's, he hears a knock at his apartment door, he ignores it at first until they start banging on it. He gets up ready to punch a bitch and when he opens the door,

There's Max, with his luggage by his feet, a busted lip (by his dad possibly, Daniel thinks) and he has this look on his eye Daniel can only describe as relief. Relief to be back home.

Daniel doesn't say anything, just grabs Max by the arm and gently pulls him to him. He grabs Max's cheek and doesn't say anything, just looks into his blue eyes, and Max nods. He pulls Max in for a kiss

He doesn't feel fireworks or butterflies fluttering in his gut. Time doesn't stand still. It just feels like coming home

Anyways ik y'all probably won't read this so I probably won't write it but this is my idea.

[longlivedelusion]

Hiker's Delight

Summary: Bucky takes you on a hike. That's it. That's the fic. Boyfriend! Bucky x Reader. Established Relationship.

Warnings: Just fluff and some mentions of post- Hydra trauma, but nothing too crazy. Will proper edit later!

A/N: Quick lil fic I wrote cause I've been just wanting more boyfriend! bucky, domestic life vibes. I need fluffy and comforting energy rn and this is that. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

I make my way up the hill, huffing as I grab onto a nearby rock to pull myself up.

Bucky's behind me, not out of breath at all, the damn super soldier and his stamina and-

"Hey, you doin' ok?" I hear from behind me, Bucky leaning against a nearby rock.

I nod, looking back ahead as I haul myself up. "This is just a bit more intense than I thought, I'll be okay though." I let out another grunt and I push another step. He's stayed behind me the whole time even though I'm going at a snail's pace, according to him I'd probably drop off and get lost if he lead the way.

"You sure you don't want-"

"No. You are not gonna carry me. I'm gonna finish *grunt* this *huff* damn hike with my own two feet." 

We pull forward, the slopes getting a bit more steep than I expected, which had me nearly sweating by the time we reached the edge. I looked up at the towering cliff knowing my arms were like jello, but I had to, needed to-

Bucky knelt down and held his hands out, a makeshift lift as he looked up at me. He quirked his brow.

"I can-" I start.

"Stop being stubborn and take the help doll. This cliff is a bit of a bitch, if you can't tell." He said waved his arm at the cliff to make a point.

I don't say anything and just sigh, knowing he was right. No use being overly stubborn about this. I prop my foot in his hands, griping where I could on the rock in front of me before Bucky said "Ready? 1... 2..."

And then I was up, the top of the rock pressed against my stomach as I hoisted myself over the rest of the way. I crawled forward, legs starting to feel a bit like jello now that I was on the ground. 

I watched as Bucky followed right after, easily pulling himself over like it was the easiest thing in the world. He stood up with ease, clearly not dealing with same jello legs as I just kind of collapsed on my back and took some deep breaths. 

"Ugh, this damn body. Why must it betray me so." My dramatic ass said.

"Because you just went on a pretty intensive hike with barely any training even though I offered to have you train with me for like 2 months."

My noodle arm managed to raise up and wave him off, "Semantics."

He chuckled, taking a seat beside me and brushing the sweaty strands of hair off my face. "Want some water?"

I nod, eyes closed as my breathing stedied, my body starting to relax and calm down from the overexertion. I heard a bottle cap untwist, making me open my eyes to see Bucky with some water in hand. 

"Come on, you can prop up against me if you want." He said, hand gently helping me upwards. I push myself up and shift over, my back now facing the soldier's chest as he hands me the bottle.

"Oh fuck that's good," I sigh, taking a long swig before passing it back over to Bucky. It takes me a moment, but after I blink a few times I finally realize the view before me.

Directly in front of us is the most beautiful mountain range I'd ever seen-- massive trees lining the edges of the mountainS, an eagle soaring overhead, and a huge, crystal blue lake smack dab in the center. So cut off from civilization, this untouched land surrounded my mountains and only Mother Nature as its mistress.

"Wow, this is-" I start, eyes wide as they tried to take in every detail. The lighting, the shades of green, the textures--all of it... "breathtaking."

"I'm glad you like it." Bucky said softly, his voice a soft tickle behind my ear. His arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me in a bit closer to him as I sat in awe.

"Even though I'm not the biggest hiking fan-"

"Huh, couldn't tell." Bucky joked.

"-oh hush. I was saying, even though I'm not the biggest hiker, I'm really glad you asked me to do this." I reached for his hands on my waist and gave them a small squeeze.

"Thanks for coming. I'd only ever been here alone before, and it was for a mission. So I'm glad I get to actually enjoy it, and with some pretty decent company while we're at it." He kissed the side of my head, a smirk pressed against my hair.

"Oh decent huh? Just decent?" I looked over into his blue eyes and saw they were already looking down at me. That shit-eating smirk plastered on his stupidly gorgeous face. "Says the man who practically begged to take me here."

He shrugged, "I don't remember begging."

"Oh? So all that whining and bribing with takeout was just a lapse in memory then?"

"Probably." He said, the nonchalance to his voice making me wanna shove and kiss his sarcastic ass all at once..

So I settle with a boop his nose and a scrunched smile. "Cheeky." I turn back to the view before me, settling back into Bucky. As I reached into my bag and pulled out the small lunch I'd packed prior, I heard a grumble behind me. "Hungry?" I ask.

"Just a bit." He chuckled lightly.

I pulled some of the sandwiches and some fruits out, grabbing one for myself and handing the other to Bucky. "I can't think of a prettier place I've ever eaten," I said, mouth half full as I took a bite of my sandwich.

He reached for some blueberries, arms brushing past mine as he hummed and popped them in his mouth. "I need to take you out more then. Can't let this be the peak of our relationship now can I?"

"I mean, as long as I can actually physically get to these places ok I'm down. My stubbornness can't handle another hike like this, or I'll try to climb Everest of something next time."

"Eh, Everest is overrated anyways." He said, taking another bite of food.

I turned around in shock, "Seriously? You climbed Everest?"

He had a cocky smile on his face as he nodded. "Yup. Was kidding about the overrated thing though. Impressed?"

"Um, yeah I'm impressed! But when, how, what was it like?" I rambled on. I couldn't believe this man I'd come to know and love still had stuff like this just to learn about. A whole lifetime to know. 

He put the bottle down, thinking for a bit. "About ten years ago, when I was still in..." He hesitated. Hydra. Something we both knew, understood in... Different ways. It didn't need to be said. "I remember bits and pieces, but it was cold as hell and windy. For a second there though, at the top of the mountain, I looked out and was me. Bucky. I didn't remember the last time I had been myself like that, and I just didnt know what to do but take a deep breath in, look out at the mountains. I sat there for... Fuck knows how long."

I set down my food and reached for his hand, my thumb tracing over the back as he spoke. "Is that why you like hiking and climbing so much?" 

He nodded, hand turning and holding mine. He looked at the metal hand below him intertwined with mine before he spoke. "It can always pull me out of whatever headspace I'm in, I don't know. When shit doesn't work and the day feels like hell, being out here just... Helps. It reminds me of who I was or could be. I don't know." He shrugged, looking away at the view.

I squeeze his hand, eyes tracing back to his face. "I think I can sort of understand. Not the hiking or climbing but... Being by the sea does the same for me. Helps me remember that I'm alive and here."

He nods, his gaze still in the horizon. "It's like, no matter how fucked up the world gets or I get, nature doesn't judge. She justs gets it and doesn't care. Doesn't care about who I am or what I've done."

"Because she just sees chaos and order and gets that both are important." I add, fingers still tracing along the side of his face slowly. "The rest of it doesn't really matter."

"Exactly."

We sit in silence for a moment before I shift Bucky's face towards me. His eyes lock onto mine in silent question. 

"Thank you for bringing me here. And sharing this with me."

He smiles as he leans down, a small kiss pressed against my lips before he let his forehead drop to mine. "Happy to."

"So where to next?" I ask, pulling back enough to look at him. "Another mountain? The desert? A tundra?"

"Actually, " he said, that cocky smile gracing his features again. "I got the perfect spot already in mind."

[chickycherrycola]

perfect

Happy SoMa Day to all who celebrate! A national holiday, as far as I'm concerned 😋I offer a fluffy, bite-sized little ficlet as my contribution, which features some of my favorite Soma tropes - grumpy Soul, domestic fluff, accidental cuteness, and BREAKFAST - all in less than 1k words!

Read it on AO3, or under the cut in its entirety!

-

“You’ll feel better once you have some food in you.”

Soul knows she’s right–Maka is almost always right, not that he’d willingly admit it–but still, he’s choosing to gripe about it.

He gripes about it all the way from his motorcycle to the glass entry doors of the restaurant, through the tightening of his meister’s grip on his wrist, until they're sliding into plush, squeaky booth seats and the hostess is shoving menus into their hands with a stifled smirk.

He bitches a little less, however, when his eyes fall upon the wide selection of food items displayed on the pages of said menus, as he flips through the smorgasbord of breakfast offerings. Banana nut pancakes and huevos rancheros, Belgian waffles and eggs benedict florentine. This place has every breakfast delicacy under the sun.

Unfortunately, the rest of the population of this po-dunk little Midwestern town must know this, too, as the restaurant is packed, and harbors every social annoyance under the sun as well. 

Screaming toddlers. Middle-aged brunchers clinking their glasses of mimosa too loudly. Elderly couples staring at him obviously, their expressions aghast with horror. A crowd of servers gathered around a nearby table, presenting a young girl with a stack of birthday pancakes as they sing to her. 

His head hurts, they got back to their hotel room after the mission way too late, and he’s running on a less-than-optimal amount of sleep. He wants to shovel a giant plate of scrambled eggs and bacon into his face and then promptly crash into the nearest sleep-able surface.

Soul groans and lets his head fall to the table, his forehead meeting wood with a heavy thunk. Moments later, there’s the all-too-familiar sensation of a pinch to his ear. 

“You’re such a grump,” Maka giggles.

“I’m allowed.”

“Never said you weren’t,” she replies. He waits for her to continue berating him–’sit up straight already’ or ‘stop breathing on the table, it’s disgusting’- but she doesn’t. He rolls his head around, angling his eyes up to look at her, and finds her attention focused elsewhere.

“Isn’t this place just the cutest?” she muses. “I love the décor. It’s so cozy and welcoming.”

She’s gazing out at the room beyond, a twinkle of delight in her eyes as she takes it all in. Soul notices, too, for the first time–opposite them is a flickering fireplace framed by a brick hearth, and whimsical works of modern art hang upon every wall. Strategically placed ivy plants bring some color to the dining room, their jade-green, star-shaped leaves cascading down in long, elegant tendrils. 

And on the wall of the booth they’re presently seated at, a lushly textured panel of artificial greenery. Maka’s flaxen head contrasts nicely against the darker shade, and–it would make for a lovely photo backdrop. 

“Hey.” He sits up, suddenly feeling invigorated, and reaches a hand into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. “Smile for me real quick?”

Maka blinks at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you… are you taking a picture of me?”

“No, I’m checking the weather for our flight home later,” Soul deadpans. In response, Maka sticks her tongue out at him and wrinkles her nose in an exaggerated grimace. Soul shrugs and hits the camera button, forever immortalizing the moment on digital film, and Maka blanches when she realizes he’s snapped a photo. 

“H-Hey! Delete that!”

“No.”

“W-Well, take another one at least–”

“Pose nicely, then.”

Maka pouts, her cheeks visibly flushed and her brows cinched together, but before he can get that expression on film, she composes herself–adjusts her pigtails and straightens her spine, schools her face into a pleasant, soft smile. Soul lines her up in the viewfinder of his camera app, and–

Snap. 

He examines the photo for several minutes, eyes darting between his meister and the image of her on his phone screen, before nodding subtly to himself. 

“Well? How do I look?”

“Perfect.”

His fingers tap, tap, tap away as he uploads the picture to his story, witty caption and all–’She dragged me to a bougie brunch place instead of letting me sleep in’- and doesn’t realize Maka has fallen silent until he’s hit the post button. 

When he puts his phone down and looks at her once again, she's staring at him with a strange expression on her face, her bottom lip between her teeth and her cheeks a shade of scarlet nearly rivaling his eyes. 

“What?” he asks. 

Maka clears her throat, runs a nervous finger idly around one of her pigtails and looks down at her lap. 

“N-Nothing.”

At that moment, his phone pings–a reply to his story post from Black Star. 

“Bro, you’re such a sap.”

[fics-lovebot]

stray kids recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

e.r means established relationship

ot8

giving them head while they are live - reaction

skz as hard subs - it´s a LOT sjsjjs

boyfriend things skz does - so fluffy

worm tales - crack, “would you love me if i was a worm?” KDAKJSD the hyunjin one lmao, felix is #stressed

sleeping on the couch after an argument - angst and then fluff, they messed up, it´s so sad :(

sitting on their lap while they’re gaming - fluff

chan

he forgets he is the dom - blurb, smut, sub!chan, puthy whipped, braind dead by that puthy

counting thrusts - blurb, smut, fluff, they´re in luvv, chan is cute fr, sex after sex, a lil teasing here and there

jealousy is adorable - yandere, idol!chan, best friend´s little sister reader, posessive and manipulative af, gets a taste of his own medicine

pretend - yandere! chan, he a murdererrrrr but he´s so soft for his baby

lee know

jealousy is a bitch - yandere, idol lino, daycare teacher reader, stalking, manipulation, he wants you to quit ur job, he´s mean, he threatens to harm you, lotttsss of yelling, throwing and kicking things aroung, punching walls, bloody hand and everything

boyfriend texts - slice of life, crack if you squint

han

jealousy is beautiful - yandere, idol!han, he is obsessed, kidnapping, cheating, you´re his new fixation, they´re both CRAZY

felix

suffocating - yandere!felix, noona!reader, toxic af, he thinks you´re trying to leave him so he chokes you,,,

game over - you´re on his lap doing the most, distracting him, so he loses the game and yk what that means, degrading dirty talk

jealousy is sin - yandere, idol!felix, fangirl reader, toxic affff

am i cute now? - smut, the way I gasped when i read the fIRST line I-, he´s sick of you looking at him like your cute lil friend

changbin

jealousy is heartbreaking - yandere, idol!binnie, doctor reader, he´s manipulative af, mentions of suicide, he´s unstable

hyunjin

under his spell - yandere!hyunjin, smut, clingy, obsessive, controlling, jealous, he swears at you, cray-cray, degrading talk, doesn´t let you go out by yourself, manipulation, he´s a witch fr

jealousy is sickening - yandere, idol!hyunjin, dog sitter reader, his love life depends on kkami lmao, he only lets you out of you go with him, he´s got a temper, slamming walls, yelling and all that, he´s terrified of losing you

glossy - smut, spoiled reader, he says so stufff ok?, it gets heated

morning text - so fluffy, pouty jinnie, he´s so dramatic lmao, #sulking

pretty - smut, ex bf! hyunjin, OOFF, he´s obsessed and is trying to get you back with good dicc

no nut november (loser #3) - smut, slice of life, domestic, he´s still dramatic sksksks, funny texts

dreamy - yandere, wAIT this is,,,, I was confused for a hot min, loved it

baby fever - fluff, non idol au, hubby! hyunjin, dad! hyunjin, so cute

taste so sweet - smut, he loves eating u out

when hyunjin forgets your birthday, but so do you - fluff, angst, e.r, he´s was so worried omg :( poor baby

seungmin

jealousy is precious - yandere, idol!seungmin, staff member reader, he want to shape you into his perfect girl, doesn´t let you get a job, he doesn´t let you go out, like literally doesn´t let you see the outside world, cray-cray, he needs you to be dependent on him so you won´t leave him, he likes it when you act as crazy as him

jeongin

jealousy is annoying - yandere, idol I.N, innie is crazy obsessed, kidnapping

love n´ devotion - smut, dark romance, yandere innie, yandere reader, toxic relationship, they´re both crazy asfffff

[iris-writesx]

Little Fucker | Gallavich

ian and mickey wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of an intruder in their kitchen, but it not what it seems — idk what this is but hey my first full gallavich fic, whoop whoop. honestly this is just a rambled mess of fluff. i’m still trying to get my characterisation for these boys down, so feedback would be greatly appreciated :)

2k words — mention of past trauma, though this is all fluffy and domestic. mickey and ian are married

fic requests are open for gallavich, please send any and all into my asks. reblogs and feedback would also make me super happy <3

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Mickey had always been a light sleeper. Just the feeling of Ian’s weight leaving the mattress in the morning was enough to stir him from his sleep, blinking groggily up at his husband as he got ready for the day. He supposed it was due to his upbringing, being awoken by Terry yelling or things being thrown at him throughout his childhood. He distinctly remembers one night when he was ten being woken by the shattering of glass, and later realised that the bottle Terry had thrown in his drunk stupor had missed and smashed the window instead. That whole winter he had slept with two jumpers on to stop the winter air blowing into his room from freezing him to death.

So he was a light sleeper. Which is why the crash that came from their kitchen was enough to force Mickey out of his sleep, his eyes wide as he immediately rose up into a sitting position. He sat frozen, listening for anything else, before another crash followed, something smashing against their tiled kitchen floor.

Ian was blissfully asleep beside him, and it took Mickey four shoves against his husband’s arm before he even began to stir.

“What?” He groaned, not even turning to look at him, eyes still closed.

“Get up.”

“Fuck off,” Ian grumbled, rolling over to face away from Mickey, and huffing out of his nose he grabbed onto Ian’s forearm and shook it a bit roughly until he had annoyed him enough to roll back over to face him. “Holy fuck, what do you want?”

Mickey glared down at his husband, offended by the immediate annoyance… as if he wouldn’t act the same if awoken in the middle of the night. “Someone’s in the fuckin’ kitchen, asshole.”

That definitely got Ian’s attention. Mickey observed as his eyebrows immediately scrunched, lips turning downwards as he also sat up, eyes shifting past Mickey to stare at their closed bedroom door, as if he could see through it.

Ever since Mickey had been sleeping in the same bed as Ian — since he finally started accepting just how much he needed Ian, since the nights where he was supposed to be on Ian’s bedroom floor were spent up against him in his bed — he had always put himself between Ian and the door. Maybe it was the assumption that there would always be danger, like he was living at home and there was always a chance of Terry barrelling through the door to hit him. But Mickey knew that he’d always want Ian further into the room than himself. Realistically, he knew that probably nothing was ever going to happen — a little ironic after he had been woken up by the sound of an intruder in their kitchen — but just in case, he would always put himself into the line of danger first.

Ian was still staring at the door. His hand had unconsciously reached out to grip onto Mickey’s leg, a light squeeze against the plush of his thigh. “I can’t hear anything, Mick.”

“You think I’m fuckin’ making it up?”

Ian turned to scowl at him. “That’s not what I said. I’m j’st saying that it doesn’t sound like anybody’s there.”

“I know what I heard, asshole-“

Another smash came from the kitchen, and instead of jumping like Ian did, Mickey couldn’t help the smug smile that formed over his mouth. “Told you, bitch.”

Ian rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, instead he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned down, grabbing a shirt from the floor and quickly throwing it on. Mickey, who cared much less about looking decent in front of a fucking burglar, instead leaned down to grab the gun that he kept tucked under his side of the bed just in case. He rounded the bed and forcefully shoved Ian beside him, reaching out with his free hand to open the doorknob. “Stay behind me.”

Ian didn’t argue, so he pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway, his gun raised out in front of him. Within all of the domestic bliss that he and Ian had been living in for some time now, it had actually been a while since he’d held a gun — the last time was probably when he had put it under his side of the bed. The weight of it felt heavy in his hand, the metal cold against his skin — he never thought that he would be in a place where the feeling of a gun in his hand was weird to him.

With Ian still behind him they got to the kitchen, and whilst there was no intruder to be seen, there was glass and porcelain smashed all over their floor. He glanced up at the counter and noticed that there were still a few plates and a glass that had been left to clean up in the morning, and he was guessing that the ones now in pieces on the floor came from that stack of washing up.

“Aw man,” Mickey grumbled, nudging a larger piece of black porcelain with his toe. “My favourite fuckin’ mug.”

“Mick look-”

“Yeah I know, man, I can see it.”

“No,” Ian huffed, and poked one of his shoulder blades. “On the table.”

Mickey turned his head, and just blinked when he saw the little orange cat sat on their kitchen table, staring back at them with its huge bug eyes. It reminded him of one of the little street cats from back home that Mandy used to insist on feeding when she was just a kid. “What the fuck is that thing doing in here?”

“Must’ve come in through the window,” Ian nudged him again, and Mickey glanced up at the open window above the counter. “Poor guy must’ve knocked all the glasses over on his way in.”

“Poor guy? It broke our shit.”

“Yeah well I told you to close the windows at night.”

Mickey turned to shoot Ian a glare, as if to say it wasn’t his fault that the little fucker got into their home, but Ian slipped past him and sidestepped all of the glass over towards the table, where he reached down to scratch said little fucker on the top of its head.

“I’ll clean up then, yeah?” He huffed, putting the gun in the waistband of his boxers for now as he carefully dodged any glass on the floor to grab the broom they kept stood by the fridge, and started to sweep all of the shards into a pile. When he glanced up at Ian he was still fussing over the cat, and he just rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Aye, some fuckin’ help would be nice.”

“He hasn’t got a collar,” Ian had that dumb puppy dog pout on his lips as he turned back to his husband, and in one motion he scooped the cat up into his arms, cradling the thing against his chest. “And he’s really small. I think he’s a stray, Mick.”

“Oh yeah? Too bad, it broke my mug, piece of shit.”

Ian glared, dipping his head down to kiss the cat on its peanut head. “We should let him stay for the night.”

“Why should we do that?” Mickey rolled his eyes, leaning the broom against the counter once he had all of the shards in a pile, and instead grabbed the dustpan to collect it all to toss into the bin.

“‘Cause it’s cold out.”

“Thing’s got fur, ain’t it?” Ian was still glaring when he looked back up and he just groaned, wiping a hand over his face as he let the now empty dustpan clatter down against their counter. “Christ, you really wanna keep it here for the night?”

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Not just for the night-“

“Ain’t fuckin’ happening, Gallagher.”

Ian sighed, putting the cat down on the table gently before he moved over to him, that fucking stupid pout back on his face as he took Mickey’s shoulders in his hands with a light squeeze. “He’s just a small thing, Mick, he won’t be any trouble.”

“It’s been here for five fuckin’ seconds and smashed half of our cups.”

Ian squeezed his shoulders a little firmer, tilting his head at him. “Please?” His hands left his shoulders and went down to his hips, tugging him close enough for them to be pretty much flush against each other, before his lips quirked upwards playfully. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me, Mister Gallagher?”

He groaned, because his husband was so fucking lame sometimes, but looped his arms over his shoulders regardless. Mickey would never be able to resist giving Ian what he wanted to make him happy and Ian fucking knew that, but it didn’t stop him from giving his husband the worst scowl he could muster as Ian squeezed his hips again.

Fucker.

“One night, man,” Mickey told him, his façade dissipating a little as Ian gave him a little kiss, just a light press of their lips. “I’m fuckin’ serious, tomorrow night that scraggly fuck is going back to the streets, ‘kay?”

Mickey knew that the cat wouldn’t be going anywhere, Ian knew that the cat wouldn’t be going anywhere, which is probably why he had that dumb smile of his on his face as he leaned in to kiss Mickey again, for longer that time, making him all melty and fucking weak like Ian usually got him.

His sixteen year old self would be in fucking disbelief if he saw him now. Mickey often thought back on that time. The denial, the self loathing, his destructive behaviour towards both himself and Ian. It wasn’t all that long ago that Mickey had apologised for one particularly nasty thing he could remember calling Ian.

They had just gotten into bed for the night, the room dark, Ian’s hand on his thigh drawing invisible little shapes on the skin there.

Mickey had been mulling over that memory for a while in his head, a scrunched up disgusted expression on his face as he recalled calling Ian nothing but a warm mouth. It had left a vile taste on his tongue to even say it the first time, but to think back on it made his chest burn with hatred for his younger self. Ian had deserved more than him back then. Mickey was only worthy of him now that he had changed for him.

“M’sorry for all the shit I called you,” Mickey watched as Ian turned to face him, clearly confused. “Back then, man, all the shit I said,” he was slowly getting better at apologies, so he paused for a moment as Ian nodded a little, an understanding smile on his face. “You were always more than that, you know. Always meant something more to me, Gallagher.”

Which is why Mickey wouldn’t be kicking that fucking cat out, as much as the thought of having a cat around the place wasn’t that pleasing.

Ian was still smiling like he didn’t believe him, and squeezed his hips again as he pecked his lips one last time. “‘Kay.”

Mickey cleared his throat as Ian finally stepped backwards, his skin feeling a little hot, because there was a gun tucked into the waistband of his boxers, yes, but part of him was now definitely excited to see his husband.

Like he could fucking help it when Ian pulled that shit.

“Can we go back to bed now?” Mickey groaned, and even though both of them knew they wouldn’t be going back to sleep yet, Ian gave a huge smile as he nodded, hooking an arm around his husband’s shoulders as he started to walk them back to the bedroom. “And the cat’s not comin’ into our room, no fuckin’ way.”

Ian just laughed, patting his shoulder. “Sure, Mick.”

As expected, Mickey got up to let the cat into their room a little past three o’clock in the morning, and when he woke up it was asleep on his chest.

Little fucker.

[lexithwrites]

Pls pls pls write some jarrylus being domestic. Pet parents or coparenting harry with lily

i really love co-parenting lily and james but people will probably tell me im a misogynist again,,,,oh well xoxo

in terms of pet parents, they each have a pet that's 'theirs' yet they all look after them

barty has a snake, her name is fluffy and she's a lil baby western hognose, she is adorable and very loving and curls around barty's hand when he's chilling or just walking around the flat

regulus has a cat, her name is lady or duchess, something regal, and she's a bit of a bitch to new people but she LOVES her dads, she purrs and boops her head on their arm and she always cuddles up on regulus' chest

james has a bunny and i will die on this hill he loves fluffy little boys and his bunny is called bugs, im funny and hip and i remember cartoons in my old age, and he loves jumping really high and sitting on james' tummy when he's in bed, he stays in his cage most of the time but its a big cage and he does have a little harness and leash so james can safely walk him around outside

now in terms of co-parenting i think james was really nervous to talk to lily about his relationship but she was very supportive, just nervous about what harry will say/think about it because he's very young

they dont introduce barty and regulus as james' partners until harry is maybe five or six at the earliest, they're just 'dad's close friends'

lily works very well with james and the other boys never interfere with their parenting choices and never will unless one of them asks

harry loves barty and reg, barty is super tall and puts harry on his shoulders and plays airplane around the flat whilst regulus is really good at reading him stories and using his imagination to help harry play

james loves watching them together too, he tears up a lot

whenever lily comes over to pick harry up for her week he's often asleep in one of their arms and she just smiles softly when they hand him over, saying he was as lovely as always and that they'll miss him for the week

[coyotelip]

thanks to lovely @jeguluses for tagging me!♡

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ♡

okay then!

☆ 1. betaverse (WIP)

my piece for jegulus kinktober! it's partly written, but I'm one of those authors who fall in love with their current wips!

it's beta!regulus/alpha!james, I was a little overwhelmed by traditional omegaverse, so I decided to do it more about betas 👀

posting will be on Oct.3 and Oct.8, stay tuned!

(aaaand I already have an idea for wolfstar spin-off, which would contain more plot and traumas!)

☆ 2. karma is a bitch

look, I'm just a girl, I love smut, reading AND writing, so!

my remus/james/regulus agenda! also my first time writing threesome, and I think it was good. I some kind of fall in love with remus/james dynamic here and want to do more of them after that.

☆ 3. growing up together

fluffy domestic wolfstar parenting harry!

this is my comfort collection of microfics, I'm just having fun here, creating some family-friendly content. it's work in progress, but you can read each chapter separately, there's no such thing as one big plot.

☆ 4. I look in people's windows

aaaand here comes the angst. my canon divergence fic about regulus, who loses his memory in the cave. now it's only one part, but I am planning to write more.

jegulus with trust issues, platonic regulily, maybe pandalily mentioned a little. black brothers angst. yep, it's what I'm planning.

☆ 5. ???

well, now it's hard to choose something more, I don't have that much works...

you can check my ao3! or my microfics, I have plenty of them and love them dearly ♡

want to tag someone, but it seems like everyone already did that tag. so, if you're not and want to, consider I'm tagging you!

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Dale is the sub type who will do something wrong on purpose because he knows that hid Dom Mommy will get mad (that's exactly what he wants) 😏🤭🤫

So, this just took me forever because the writing process was a whole roller coaster, but here it is!

Bitch Boy

Summary: Sometimes one needs a helping heel when decompressing.

Pairing: Dale Jennings x afab!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Content Warnings: Fluffy Domestic Smut 18+!, Honorifics, Psychosexual Introspection, A Sprinkle Of Mommy Kink, Praise/Affirmation, Oral (F Receiving), High Heels :), Sub!Dale

A/N: The way this has eaten away at my brain…

Tagging: @theprettiesthead @midnight-mess @queer-crusader

She seems to have an invisible touch, yeah

She reaches in, and grabs right hold of your heart

She seems to have an invisible touch, yeah

It takes control and slowly tears you apart

- Invisible Touch By Genesis

Dale threw the apartment door shut behind him like it weighed absolutely nothing, the aggravating, harsh sound making you jump out of your skin and jolt on the soft sofa cushions cradling you.

“Excuse me?” With your brows knit together and arched up, your whole face expressing your sudden discomfort, you tossed your music magazine onto the sofa table between couch and the telly.

Storming into the apartment in a fit of rage you’d rarely ever seen him in, Dale chose to ignore you, fingers fumbling with loosening the tie around his neck. You watched the languid piece of cloth fly through the air, eyes following its trajectory with baffled curiosity.

“Dale?” You leaned in, elbows resting on your thighs.

“I messed up!”, He went off like a firecracker and you flinched, “I fucked it. Completely and entirely blew it at the desk. Lindsay is never going to let me live this down.”

Hearing Dale cuss and swear like that in your vicinity caused your heart to pick up a beat and that not out of excitement.

“Dale.” You repeated yourself but without any success whatsoever again for he just kept steamrolling viciously over your attempts to connect with him.

“I rambled on like I was running for my life. Made an utter dipstick out of myself on live TV of all places. You need to take it down a notch, mate, no, not that much, faster, slower again, louder, eh, that’s too much.”, Dale threw his hands in the air in a mockery of his colleagues, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The way he raised his voice, more bellowing than talking the question into the living room very much pushed your limits and he knew, he had to know that you despised screaming more than anything, especially in your very own household at that.

“Dale Jennings, I need you to lower that voice of yours right about now!” The stern demand sliced through the air between the two of you, causing Dale to immediately stop in his tracks, blue eyes darting at you whilst his mouth hung slightly agape.

“You come here.” Sitting upright again, you nodded at a nondescript spot in front of the sofa and the sentence wasn't even done echoing from the walls as Dale practically jumped to hastily step into your space.

“Who do you think you are talking to, boy? Cussing and barking like that?”, You watched him shrink into himself with every word that trickled from your lips, saccharine-sweet and intoxicating him within seconds, “You come barging in, hollering at me like I’m one of your newsboys? Please.”

His jaw visibly clenched, telling you that he’d known since turning his keys in the lock that he’d overstep your boundaries like that, break quite the handful of rules just because he gave in to his whims.

“You better get to pick up that tie of yours, don’t you think, Dale?” A peculiar flush of red crept into his face, immediate guilt for behaving like a bull in a porcelain shop.

“Yeah.” He reciprocated quickly, his tone a little brittle, before he turned on his heels to go fishing for the tie.

You watched intently as Dale cradled the smooth fabric between his fingers for a brief moment before returning to you.

“I also don’t appreciate you talking down to me like that, Dale.” In a subconscious motion, you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth before letting it slide free again.

Taking the hint quickly, Dale dropped to his knees, hands falling onto his lap and looking at you with slightly widened eyes. You hated and loved this very expression on his face in equal parts because it made it so goddamn hard to stay mad at him when he gave the impression of a kicked puppy that somebody had left out in the rain for at least half a week.

“Nah, you’re not getting out of this one, Dale, don’t even try that shit with me today.” He shimmied a little, hands seeking comfort in toying with the tie.

“Stop that.”, You pulled the fabric right off of him swiftly, “Maybe I should just shove that thing in your terribly loud mouth and let you sit here for an hour so you can think about how much I don’t appreciate you stomping in here and not leaving your chaos at the front door.”

“Please…don’t?” His brows arched up slightly as he tilted his head to the side.

“Oh, suddenly we can use nice words again, hm?” You stared him down into the wooden floor, well aware that it never took much to make him shift and shuffle.

“ ‘m sorry, ma'am.” His teeth ground down on the tender and sensitive inside of his cheek, the words not coming easy because he was still pissed at himself for fucking up not only at work.

“Oh, you better be, boy, now what are we going to do about that?” You reached out, fingers brushing through soft coppery tufts of hair.

As fingertips grazed over his scalp, you paused, pondering because just being a bit angry with him didn’t exactly seem right or appropriate right now. It was in the way he held himself, face slumped against the inside of your thigh, cheek pressing against you right above the knee. Dale was in actual, tangible distress over something and you needed him to tell you what exactly.

“Now again.”, You caressed along the shell of his ear, sending a wash of goosebumps along his neck, “What happened at work, Dale?”

His gaze dropped immediately, eyes glazing over with a watery sheen. God, he was in shambles.

“I messed up.” His bottom lip trembled a little and for an instant, you felt like taking a fistful of hair to simply shove his mouth against your skin, however, the demons first needed exorcizing.

“Yeah, got that notion.” You slowly pushed further, thumb grazing over his earlobe.

“Tripped over my words on live TV.” Your hand wandered to gently palm at the back of his head, reassuring that you were with him, listening closely.

“That happens.” It did and that everywhere; on the news, the radio, the damn supermarket announcements.

“It shouldn't. I.. I should not…” You could feel just how hard he tried to force those words out of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as his larynx worked strained vocal cords.

“Don't act like your Geoff, please.” The comment was enough to make Dale look back up at you, expression pained at the mention of his former mentor or much rather tormentor.

“You're not some mumbling senile old fuck. Every time I see that relic hunched over his news desk, I expect him to pass away mid-sentence, every breath the possible death rattle.”, The ghost of a smile tugged at Dale's lips, almost, nearly, “Geoff is ancient, you're not. You're energetic, you're involved, you put yourself out there, and with that, accidents happen.”

Dale's chest fell in a deep exhale, trying to ground himself, fighting to accept the words of compassion.

“I fucked up, too, plenty of times actually. First therapy session I conducted myself? Absolute nightmare. First, my pen ran dry halfway through the diagnosis papers and then I started stumbling and swallowing half my sentences, as a speech therapist, Dale, can you imagine? I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I went home that day and cried but you know what I did after that?”, He softly shook his head, cheek stroking against the sensitive skin beneath the hem of your skirt, “I went to sleep and tried again the next day. New pen, new file, new patient.”

“I'm sorry.” This time the apology sounded less rushed, calmer, and certainly more sincere.

“I want you to talk to me, not holler at me. And I know you're angry at yourself and I know you came barging in here to rile me up enough to act along but I'm not. I'm not going to feed into this. Do you understand?” You swore that you could hear it breaking inside of Dale; the lesson landed, disappointment battling with genuine comprehension.

“Yes, ma'am.”, You waited, watching, observing if he'd start bargaining, “May I still apologize properly?”

An overly eager Good Boy prodded at the tip of your tongue before you sucked it right back, not just yet, you'd let him earn it.

“You may.” You tilted your head to the side, hand withdrawing from the back of his head to let it lazily fall onto your lap, fingers tapping with the need to pull at the fabric of your skirt already.

“Thank you.” Dale uttered breathlessly even before his palms glided up your legs, one languid caress from your ankles right up to your thighs, the light curve of his hands bunching the fabric to pile up beneath your belt.

“I shouldn't have come in here yelling and I'm sorry for that.” Warm, broadly splayed palms pushed into the supple flesh of your thighs, thumbs following the outlines of your slip, the sensation nearly making you groan out.

You nodded, nonverbally agreeing with what he was stating as your half-lidded eyes were trained on his face, the way he looked right back up at you giving you a headrush and rendering you dizzy before his mouth was even on you.

“You know, I prefer that tone much better than that bitch boy yapping with flailing arms.” Your breath hitched in the far back of your throat as you watched him leaning in, soft lips nipping at the inside of your thigh, playfully working your skin in a trail of kisses and barely-even-there brushes with the tip of his tongue.

You felt how every exhale of his came cool against the gradually growing line of saliva glossing along your leg; riling you up not with obnoxious behavior but with agonizingly slow ministrations, arousal pooling and rapidly soaking through the lacey fabric of your underwear eventually.

The instant physical reaction left you humbled for you might be the one sitting above Dale, receiving mouthed apologies with his lips against goosebumped skin and yet he had you wrapped around his fingers by the second he was on you, any sense of dominance crumbling into nothingness as he got you hooked on the chase for more, bottom lip trembling whilst you watch him inch in closer.

A throaty moan slithered over your tongue as gentle fingertips pulled the piece of cloth to the side, followed by an eagerly darting out tongue to lap at your throbbing cunt and you actively needed to resist the urge to graze over his scalp and shove him impossibly close. No, this was his moment and he got to decide to show you just how sorry he was for upsetting you.

Dale worked the muscle through soaked labia promptly, the tip of his tongue spearheading right through with carefully added pressure, making your head fall back against the thick cushions of the sofa.

“Fuck.” The expression simply spilled over your bottom lip and Dale hummed into you in return, licking back up to nudge and stroke at your swollen clit.

This man was good with his tongue and he was well aware of it, pushing and stroking all the little points that rendered your legs weak and got your muscles twitching as your body filled with the almost blinding sensation of floaty bliss. One lightning jolt of white-hot pleasure chasing the next, jumping along nerve endings in unstoppable ferocity that only doubled down on your senses as Dale pushed two fingers inside, curling against your receptive and clenching insides.

He may have thought to have pulled you along far enough for you not to notice his other hand reaching for the button on his exquisitely tailored pants, however, you certainly did, the notion tearing you out of the sea of bliss you were gladly drowning yourself in.

“Don't even think about it.” You pushed his hand with the pointy tip of your high heeled foot, the thin soles pressing against his crotch promptly after.

Dale whined out, not in pain or discomfort but frustration. All the pent-up emotions from the news desk bleeding into the scene and merging into a crushing tide of desperation for just any sort of friction to swallow the embarrassment and render into catharsis.

He pulled back only enough to look up at you with pleading eyes and glistening flushed lips, pupils blown with his own need for stimulation and you genuinely considered.

“Pretty please, mommy?” His sore voice was riddled with desperation and although begging unto you, his fingers didn't stop attending to you, his thumb aiding as replacement for his tongue.

You tethered on the edge like a slackline, craving to give him the world and everything he could ask for but also sticking to your own principles. Dale had fucked up, willingly so and that certainly worsened it, demanding punishment in one way or another.

“No.” He nearly looked as if he was about to start crying, eyes awash with a watery sheen immediately.

“Please…” It took everything within you not to cave in and fuck him stupid right there on the damn carpet.

“Do you think you deserve that, yeah?” The only thing worse than flat out denial was making him do it himself.

“No, ma'am.” He swallowed and his face dropped visibly; you'd get him off 3 times by the time the both of you reached the shower later but that he didn't need to know just yet.

“See? Now quit it.” You watched the humiliation ripple through him, breaths turning shaky and a little flat before acceptance set in and he shoved his face back where it belonged and your body snapped nearly upon tender impact.

His tongue swirling against your thoroughly worked clit and fingers repeatedly curling inside of you set it off, an earth shattering high juxtaposed to his self-affirmed suffering and you felt yourself oozing all over his lips and chin.

You barely allowed it to ebb away, only waiting for Dale to carefully pull out of you, fingers grasping at the partially soaked collar of his shirt to pull him off his knees and right up to you.

“Obedient boy.”, You whispered the praise against his mouth before you devoured him in a hungry kiss, the taste of yourself flooding over your tongue, “And tomorrow you'll sit at that desk and try again.”

[skz-fanfic-recs]

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[3rachasdomesticbanana]

♪ 1, 2, 3 RACHA'S DOMESTIC BANANA ♪

★Just a silly little gerbil with a lot of love for a silly little quokka★

Hi I'm Luna/Lisa!

STAY, if that wasn't obvious lol

Yes, I am an adult... I had a MySpace that should tell you.

Coffee addict just tryna survive this level in a game called "My Life" (who put this bitch on hard mode?!)

Bias is Han with Chan as my bias wrecker, which is why I mainly write about them but I am ot8.

Majority of the things I write are smut but once in a blue moon I'll write something fluffy.

INFJ.

The gerbil thing is a nickname my mom gave me. She says that I yawn and chew like one ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ lol guess it's only natural to have Han for a bias?

I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Editing takes me longer than the actual writing. So if it takes me weeks to a month to post that's usually why. Unless it's something I already had written. Also if you want to, tag me in anything Han or Chan related and I will love you forever ♡

Master List - 18+

Tag List - open ✓

This app has been a jumpstart to the creativity and imagination I thought I lost years ago. It's really a great feeling knowing that I can actually write something that people enjoy, which is what I've always wanted to do. I hope to only get better with each post.

♡- 리서