#really love the way nothing feels out of place

[mocchii-writes]

hii!! i love your work! i would like to request head-canons with a reader who is an ex cop (could be from the same reason as jun ho, as they failed to investigate the mysterious island) but this time, they’re actually able to infiltrate into the games. you can do separate characters for gi hun, in ho, dae ho, thanos, and nam gyu?!

Squid Game Boys if You Were Undercover in the Games

Paring: Seong Gi-hun, Hwang In-ho, Kang Dae-ho, Choi Su-bong (Thanos), Nam-gyu x fem!Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Drugs

A/n: I hope I understood this correctly, Anon, it's a very cool one! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

Hwang In-ho:

This would be very interesting indeed

Since he's also an undercover spy-esc. type, he might not even notice if you act suspicious in that type because he's covering up himself

but he also seems smart enough to figure it out

he would admire your bravery, if so, and originally planned to shut you down once he thought you'd had enough fun

but there was something about the way you looked at him sometimes that made him pause

it took him a while to realise he actually liked you, and the thought didn't exactly comfort him

you guys would play a game of tag in the dark, jumping around the fact that you're on opposing sides of a growing war

and you'd both pretend you knew nothing so you could be friendly guilt-free

he wouldn't hesitate at the chance to save your life, unlike he would for many other "friends"

he's very protective and defensive of you anytime anyplace

if anyone even thought of hurting you, pray for them fr

he's almost ashamed to admit to himself that he cares about you, but the thought hardly crosses his mind when met with false hatred for you instead.

(or what he calls hatred)

Seong Gi-hun (s2):

You knew he could use all the help he could get, and he seemed almost too kind to be in this place

and you knew you could use all the help you could get as well

so you didn't have to think long on it to decide to tell him what you knew

he trusts you, for sure

he's also protective of you, trying his best to ensure your safety even though that's a hard ask

and you protect him too, to the best of your abilities

you both have a common goal, too, and that helps with the bonding

speaking of

you two would bond pretty well imo, sharing your stories and fears with each other at night

he's not very confident in terms of romance, and he'd probably miss most of your hints because he's so used to people never glancing his way

but eventually he would understand

if not your feelings, then his own

and he would probably confess to you by like either exploding a bunch of words out of his mouth that are hardly understandable, or very quietly and clearly, like he's sharing a secret with you

Kang Dae-ho:

If you told him he would be so impressed, let's be honest here

literally star-struck, because an undercover ex-cop is the sickest thing ever??

and not to mention he definitely already admires you

he wants to know everything about your investigation and your backstory

he feels very safe with you, but still holds himself to the standard of defending you if he needs to

you'll probably have to make the first move unless you can boost his ego a little more because like I said, he thinks you're way too cool for him

you would do your best to help him, and he does the same for you

which really makes you two a crazy power couple because when you guys really link up you're unstoppable

I just know yall would devour in the riot omg

he loves loves loves you, and he loves talking to you about all the police stuff you do and his time in the military

Choi Su-bong (Thanos):

It's an understatement to say you were wary of him, and even more wary of telling him your reasons for being here

but it's not like he would notice anything weird, so you'll be alright

you were trying to keep a low profile, but Thanos didn't intend to just let a pretty girl like you get away

He tried his usual charms, and whether or not they worked is... irrelevant... 🤭

anyways

you joined his group because you thought it gave you safety, but that didn't stop Thanos from trying to win you over

after your suspicions died down, he seemed pretty genuine

so you told him your story, and he listened

he told you he'd try to help you, but neither of you know if he could really help that much

but he definitely respected you more after that

and nobody dares to mess with Thanos's girl, but if they did, you know he'd handle it

he thinks of you as a close friend as well, and he trusts you more after you tell him you're undercover

he would want to tell Nam-gyu, but he wouldn't if you didn't want him to

he would think it's hot lmao

he'd be like, "So you're a super secret spy? cool, cool. Where's your earpiece?"

"bro"

"Hm?"

it overall wouldn't really affect how he treats you, but your relationship would sift, probably for the better

Nam-gyu:

Depending on how you met, he would be really gentle with you imo

he's really nice with thanos (though he claims it's for the drugs)

so I think if he liked you he would really like you

we know he's very touchy and probably protective of you

but when you tell him your real story, he's flabbergasted

I mean sure, it makes sense, but what??

his perfect wife? (he's known you 4 days)

he's very proud of it

will probably yap to everyone about it, sadly

you'll really have to hold him back, if you can

he'd say he wants to hear about it but hed probably lose interest lmao

but he'll ask you late at night, and you two will talk for a while about your lives

he'd say he's ashamed of his life currently, and that you have so much more potential

you'd have to comfort him and tell him it's okay

also, please comfort him when he takes drugs from thanos because they make him pretty anxious sometimes

and he just wants to be with you, so hold him ♡

protects you but also knows you can handle yourself, just give him this

Sorry, I'm posting really slow but all the req will be out once I get on that grind ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

do you have any kinks?

pairing: daddy!chan x fem reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, pet names, oral (f.receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

an: the pictures i chose for this banner.. are just pictures ive been obsessing over. they’re my favorite pictures atm. need him so so bad. okie here 🤲🏻 have this. love you.

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

“can i ask you a question?” you had just taken your shower, your hair still slightly damp. chris was reclined on the bed, one arm behind his head, one hand holding his phone, wearing nothing but his boxers. upon hearing your question, he tossed his phone onto the bed beside him.

“of course. you can ask me anything.” he smiled. but you were still nervous. you had been dating chris for a few months now, and things were going great. he had been spending the past few weekends over at your place. and today, this saturday night, was no different. you really did feel like you could talk to him about anything. but still your stomach churned with anxiety.

“do.. you have any.. kinks?” you couldn’t look at him, instead opting to search through your dresser for your favorite pajamas. he was silent for a moment, though it felt like an eternity.

he cleared his throat, embarrassed by your question.

“you don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.” you blurted out, grabbing your pajamas and slamming the dresser drawer closed. you were starting to rethink this conversation, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. but you couldn’t ignore the way you felt. couldn’t ignore your desires. couldn’t ignore the way he treated you.

you spared a nervous glance in his direction. he was smiling at you, his ears were a little red, but mostly he was just enamored by you. he chuckled. “i don’t mind to answer. like i said, you can ask me anything.”

you dropped your towel, leaving you bare before him for a moment, only to slip your pajamas on. his cock twitched, but he ignored it. focused on the conversation. “i guess.. i don’t have any kinks? or maybe i do and i don’t know about them?” he thought about it some more and couldn’t come up with anything. “why do you ask?”

you tossed your used towel into the hamper and nervously climbed into bed next to him. “uh.. no reason.” you said, pulling the blanket up over your body and laying back onto your pillow.

he sat up, looking over at you. “suuree.” he said. he knew you were lying. you wouldn’t just ask that for no reason. he wondered what made you think of such a question. “do you?” he asked.

“do i what?”

“have any kinks.” he clarified. “you.. don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

you were silent. contemplating whether or not you wanted to be honest with him right now. should you just blurt it out and get it over with? like ripping a band-aid? or would he think you were weird, and should you keep it to yourself..

“it’s.. nothing.” you said, cursing yourself for even starting this conversation in the first place.

“i understand if you don’t want to tell me yet.” he reached for your hand, which was holding onto the blanket for dear life. he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “i would never judge you though. i’m very open minded.”

he snuggled under the blanket, his body next to yours. he held his arms out, inviting you to lay in your favorite spot. you turned over, your head against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. you could hear the thumping of his heart in your ears. he gently grazed his fingertips up and down your arm, lazily tracing designs into your skin. a long while had passed. so long that you thought he may be asleep, though you didn’t hear his signature snores.

your arm that was wrapped around his middle, squeezed him tightly, in preparation for what you were about to say. “i want to call you daddy.”

it fell out of your mouth, in a not so graceful way. you squeezed your eyes shut, hugging his body tightly, afraid he may push you away.

but he didn’t.

instead, you heard a low hum radiate through his chest.

“you have a daddy kink?” he asked. you couldn’t tell by his tone if he was excited by your confession, or disgusted.

“i.. guess?” your voice was quiet. though he could hear you just fine in the silent room. “it’s been on my mind recently.”

his fingers continued their trails along your arm. “what’s been causing you to think that?”

you took a moment to think about your answer. “uh.. i think about it when you call me princess.. and when you do stuff for me.. like that time you helped me brush my hair.”

“i see.” he said. it didn’t feel dismissive. it just felt like he understood and was formulating his next thought. “but isn’t a kink.. something sexual?” he asked. “what you’re talking about isn’t sexual.”

“well i think about it when we’re having sex too..” you confessed.

he made a hmph sound. “well that’s disappointing.”

your heart sank. disappointing? he hated it. he thought you were gross.

“i.. im sorry.” you said, your voice mousy. “just forget i said anything.”

he squeezed you tighter. “no, no baby. i don’t mean i’m disappointed that you think about that.” he explained. “i’m disappointed that you can think at all while i’m fucking you. i’m not doing it well enough.”

you huffed out a laugh. “oh you’re doing it well. believe me.”

he giggled, rocking your bodies back and forth. “oh yeah?” he teased.

you looked up at him, giggling too. “yeah.”

he leaned down, pressing his smiling lips to yours. his giggles died down, and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, for his panting breaths to be mingled with your desperate ones. kissing chris was one of your favorite things to do. maybe it was his lips, so plump and kissable. or maybe it was his skill. he clearly knew what he was doing. you didn’t like to think about how many girls he may have kissed before you.

he turns you over so you’re on your back again, and he is hovering above you. his kisses travel down your jaw, down your neck. his beautiful hands slowly found their way under your shirt. his index fingers finding your bare nipples. he pushed the material up, exposing your chest to him. he latched those kissable lips around one of your nipples, sucking and licking on it gently.

your right hand found it way into his hair, not tugging or pushing, just feeling him. trying to ground yourself by touching something with texture. when he was done with your breast, he migrated down further, his lips and tongue exploring your tummy. he looked up at you through his lashes as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. he was looking at you for approval. you silently lifted your hips off the bed, aiding him in removing your shorts, permission granted.

his fingers found your folds before his lips did. his middle finger dipping in gently and playing in your arousal. “look at your little flower, baby..” he cooed. “so messy for me..” his lips followed shortly after, finding their way to your clit, his tongue taking long strokes across it. your eyes closed and your head fell back as you focused on the way he was making you feel. he loved to watch you while you were like this. loved to see you feel good because of what he was doing to you.

he carefully guided two of his long fingers inside your drippy hole. he slid them in as far as you would allow it, and he curved them upward, gently thrusting. the moans and whimpers falling from your lips were music to his ears. the sweetest sound he had ever heard. he would do anything to have you make those noises. he wanted to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wished.

“please..” you whined. your glassy eyes looking down at him, his tongue working quickly against your bud.

“please what, princess?” he said, his breath warm against your skin.

“need you..” you breathed. “please.”

“need me?” he played dumb. he shoved his aching cock against your leg, grinding against you so you could feel how hard he was. “need this, baby?”

you squirmed underneath him, nodding frantically. “please.. please..” you begged.

he slowly removed his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his lips. he sucked them clean, groaning at the taste. you felt you may explode. spontaneously combust. no one had ever made you feel the way that he does. no one had ever turned you on so much.

he pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. he kicked his boxers off the bed, and knelt in front of you, spreading your legs. “ready, princess?”

you nodded, your big puppy dog eyes begging him to please just fuck you already.

he ran his tip up and down your folds, tapping it against your sensitive clit before finally sliding inside of you. you took him in easy. he had prepped you well. “fuck.. baby..” he exhaled. his hands gripped your hips harshly as he began to thrust. his slow and gently demeanor didn’t last long once he was inside you. he couldn’t handle himself anymore. it was no time at all before he was pounding into you, tapping your cervix with each thrust.

“fuck..” you moaned. “feels so good da-“ you cut yourself off, suddenly overthinking things. the D word almost slipped out. you clamped around him, seizing up at your mistake.

“relax for me, princess.” he said, rubbing your skin gently with his fingers. you exhaled a long breath, relaxing your body.

he started fucking you again, quickly working up to his previous pace. “feel good baby?” he asked.

“yes. yes.. so good.” your hands explored his muscled body. your fingertips brushing over his abs and his pecs and his biceps.

“mmm” he moaned. “say it.”

you were nervous again, but he didn’t slow down. wouldn’t let you clamp around him.

“say it.” he ordered.

your eyes were focused on where your bodies were connected, how easily he slipped in and out of you. how much of a mess you were making of the both of you.

“look at me.” he growled. your eyes quickly snapped up to meet his. “you’re okay. i’ve got you. say it.”

you continued to stare into his beautiful brown eyes, but your mouth refused to move. your vocal chords refused to make the sounds. you were scared. but you didn’t know why anymore. you didn’t want to be scared anymore. you just couldn’t make your body listen. there was too much going on.

“princess..” his tone shifted to one of warning now. “say it or i’m going to stop.”

“no! please..” you begged. “please don’t stop.”

“then say it. be a good girl for me and call me by my title.”

“fuck..” your breathing was ragged, your orgasm on the edge of release. “daddy..”

his eyes rolled back, his head leaning to one side before straightening again, his tongue in his cheek. “again.”

“daddy..” it fell from your lips easy now. you loved the taste of it in your mouth. “daddy.. gonna cum.”

“you’re gonna cum on daddy’s cock, baby?”

“yes, please. fuck, daddy, please.” your body was on fire, every nerve tingling.

���i.. fuck. i have a confession to make.” he grunted. “i do.. have a kink.”

your pleasure ridden mind was trying to process his words.

“do you wanna know what it is, sweet girl?” he asked, his thrusts getting sloppy. “wanna know daddy’s kink?”

you nodded, gripping his biceps. “please tell me, daddy. please.. fuck.”

“i’ve got a breeding kink.” he growled. “wanna fill your little pussy up baby. can i do that?”

you were nodding before he even finished his sentence. “gonna let me pump my cum into you? hmm? can’t.. fuck.. can’t waste a drop.”

“yes please daddy.. please cum in me.” his eyes looked wild now, sweat dripping off his face and onto your chest. “please daddy, fill me up.”

his grip on your hips tightened, sure to leave a bruise. “cum with me, baby.” he panted. “cum with daddy.”

and with one last thrust, he stilled inside you. your orgasm crashed over you as his cock twitched inside you, filling you so full, it leaked out around his balls and onto the sheets.

he slumped on top of you, his head on your shoulder, his lips against your neck. he placed soft kisses there. you ran your fingers up his back, then to his hair, trying to brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“was that okay?” he breathed against your skin, out of breath. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay.” you nodded and smiled. “are you?”

he raised his head and looked at you. he looked completely fucked out and you supposed you did too. “i’m so okay. better than okay.” he giggled, kissing you quickly. “we should have had that talk a long time ago.”

he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you. he went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you up. he gently wiped at your sensitive skin, careful to not overstimulate you. the D word came to mind again.

“i’m thinking it again.” you said quietly.

“thinking what, baby?” he asked, still cleaning you, making sure to get every drop of your shared release.

“thinking about calling you daddy.” you confessed. his hand stilled and he looked up at you. “how can i not when you take such good care of me?”

he smiled, finished his cleaning, and then kissed the tip of your nose. “you can call me daddy whenever you want to, princess.” he said. “i love it.”

“really?” you asked, your heart beating fast.

“really really.” he kissed your lips before throwing the washcloth into the hamper and cuddling close to you. he pulled your body against his, kissing the top of your head. “i love taking care of you. it would be an honor for you to call me daddy.”

you smiled. you were so incredibly happy. so proud of yourself for starting the conversation. your heart felt so full. you cuddled close to your daddy, nuzzling your face into his chest. your eyes closed, heavy with sleep that was about to pull you under. and you thought the next conversation would have to be about the L word.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[hana-no-seiiki]

My first writing commission! This will be a multipart series for HOTD. Featuring yanderes, political warfare and overall mayhem. And perhaps?? some time traveling??

Thank you @dawntheday for commissioning this project.

// tw/cw: reader is not a targaryen. canon based violence, incest, sexism, the usual. canon divergences. reader is gender neutral but is described as ethereal. reader gets pimped out (implicit/short descriptions). seggs/light smut. basically a lot of disgusting shit happens.

AND THEN, THERE WAS YOU [PROLOGUE]

Childbirth was one of the most traumatic, painful and bloody experiences known to man. The sheer agony of a child being ripped out of your womb, kicking and screaming. And yet, so many deemed it miraculous event. All joy, love and positivity.

It was horrific to even witness.

But the Gods wouldn’t be satisfied for you to be a bystander. No. You would find out that childbirth was worse when you were the one being born.

Sentience was a curse. One forced upon you since the beginning. You could feel the push of your mother’s walls, constricting you, flattening you, forcing you out into the world. Her screams, your cries, and the panicking voices of the midwives as you finally, finally made it out were all too much. The blood all too much.

You never really forget that experience even as you grew older. Features of your youth melted away to reveal ethereal beauty. One that commanded worship and awe.

That was another thing the Gods made you have to torture you. Droves and droves of sick and twisted people at your doorstep as your birth parents watched in delight, their coffers filled to the brim with gold.

But perhaps it wasn’t always a curse. Your beauty, I mean. Now that you’ve stolen much of their earnings and escaped to another continent.

Westeros.

A journey by sea it took. For you to crawl your way into the newly conquered lands. Bloodied and battered from the journey. Exhausted yet eager to renew yourself in the new lands your feet would walk upon.

Your first ever job was at a Brothel. Taking in clients like the way your parents did to you not so long ago, but of your own accord.

That was where you met Aegon Targaryen. Aegon the Conqueror. Loud, proud, and scrotum heavy. You’ve heard of the classic old tale where the men of his family would visit this place to sow their oats. Bastards upon bastards littered the place. You knew that one of these days, you would be bear his spunk and parade it around like many others. Your ego ached for it even. To conquer the conquerer. To bear a dragon’s seed.

Little did you know, the dragon already knew you.

“I dreamt of you.” He said as he ravished you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t recognize. You certainly hadn’t seen in your family’s nor have your old clients. “Like I dream of the walkers. Of an apocalypse to come.”

You’ve heard of his rough and relentless way in the sack. How your fellow workers complained of the way they were treated, how they couldn’t walk any further than two feet after he was done with them. The man did not view them as anything more than objects after all. Something to toss aside when he was done.

But if anything, he’d been the most attached and sappiest man you’ve ever had the fortune of bedding. Disgustingly so.

“You. You are the calm amongst those nightmares.“ He was gentle, loving. Nothing like Aegon the Conqueror that you’ve heard of. Nothing like the Aegon the Conqueror that you wanted.

As soon as he fell asleep, you went and disappeared.

It is not long before he calls upon you. Again and again, murmuring about dreams and winter. You’ve even met his wives. All so eager to meet you. All so kind and benevolent. All so unlike the expectations you’ve set in your mind and heart. Expectations you were willing to brave through. Somehow, drama and your potential death was better than the constricting vice they held over you. Memories flashed through your head. Of your mother, of your birth. Of blood and viscera.

You try to leave but are sent back to Aegon’s chambers in an instant.

“You may leave. You may run. But nothing will stop you from finding your way back to the Dragon’s nest. Fate wills it so.” He said, but all you heard was a challenge.

“You’ll find that I’m quite stubborn regardless.”

You quickly find out that Aegon knew your movements from his dreams. Each plan of yours to escape had been foiled before it had happened.

And so you stopped, you let him and his wives coddle and fuck you when they wanted.

Years later, an opportunity presents itself. A cliff overlooking the ocean. So vast and wide. Yet to be taken and shackled by the man who took your freedom away.

You do not hesitate. Not for one moment.

“Come.”

You jump. You bet that Aegon did not foresee that coming considering he was too shocked to catch you. Your death would be swift you suppose. At least it wouldn’t be as arduous as repeating the same day over and over again.

Your eyes fluttered open, a meeting between [e/c] and purple. You grimaced as you see her platinum blonde hair and luxurious outdoor clothing. Blood across her face and a knife in her hand.

It can’t be . . .

Tears fall down your cheeks. Your broken cries echo through the woods.

a/n: future chapters will be longer because hotd is hotd.

[bbyquokka]

drunk

– jeongin is drunk - in more ways than one .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | yang jeonging x fem reader

genre | established relationship , smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | jeongin is drunk , explicit language , face sitting , oral (f rec) , breast play , masturbation (m) , face riding , 'girl' is used , unprotected penetration

words | 2.7k ~ ( 2,776 )

notes | another piece i wrote when i went on a break! i dont write for jeongin enough :( i hope u all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

m.list — tag list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

soft grunts and groans from beside you fill the space of the car you're currently driving.

the streets are somewhat quiet. the headlights from cars passing by blinding you but the night is calm and quiet which, for a saturday, is unusual.

what's even more unusual is for you to be driving around in your boyfriend's expensive car, with him being drunk and groaning in the passenger seat. his eyes closed as his temple rests against the cold glass of the window, providing some cooling relief to his sweat coated skin.

jeongin, chan, seungmin and hyunjin decided that tonight's the night that they’d go out and have a ‘lads night.’

you don't mind jeongin going out. you trust that he (and his friends) will care and look out for one another. you trust that, when one has one too many, they will stop it from becoming a disaster.

and that is the case for you.

jeongin can handle his drink–to some extent. chan texted you urging you to pick up your not-so sober boyfriend from the club, claiming that jeongin has had one too many shots and alcohol his body can handle.

“feels good.” you stop at a red light to look at your hazy boyfriend. his usual well-kempt hair is disheveled. a beautiful pink haze sits pretty on his glowy, sweat stained skin.

“what feels good, baby?”

“i love you, you know that right?” he mumbles, ignoring your question. you laugh softly and nod.

“i know. i love you too.”

“really?” he lifts his head up from the cold glass, his eyes wide and glistening, like a love sick puppy.

“really. forever and always, remember.” jeongin nods and leans over, hooking his long pinky finger with yours.

“pinky promise.”

“pinky promise.” you repeat with a smile. jeongin sits back in his seat, a grin adorning his facial features and making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“i’m one lucky man, yn. i’m the luckiest man in this entire world! no.. wait, galaxy!” as the red light switches to green, you start to drive as you listen to your loved one babble on with himself.

after a few minutes of babbling, it falls silent. the only sound is the roar of the car engine and passing vehicles. you think nothing of the silence, until a few small breathy pants ring in your ears.

maybe he is sleeping? is your first thought until you hear a low, guttural grunt. your ears perk up at the sound. you quickly glance to the side. you can only see jeongin slouching in his seat, his head hanging low with his chin tucked into his chest, hair hiding his face.

you focus on the road. the roads may be quiet but that's no excuse to act stupid.

“hurts.” jeongin pants, his voice strained a little. you panic a little.

“what hurts, baby?”

“yn.. it hurts.” he mumbles. he looks up at you to catch your gaze but you keep your eyes on the road. “yn.. help me. please.”

his usual soft voice is now laced with desperation; like he is begging for you.

“tell me what hurts, darling.” is it his stomach? he is drunk after all, so maybe he needs you to pull over.

“help me.” he begs, on the verge of tears. you drive to a nearby car park, shutting off the engine and taking off your belt.

you look at jeongin. the pink haze has now turned red, spreading to his ears. his eyes are hazy and glassy. lips glistening from the saliva.

“baby.. are you ok?” you lean over to him, placing your hand on his thigh gently. he tenses under your touch. 

“hurting.” he repeats. his breathing slowly becoming short and laboured.

“your stomach? if you need to throw up, it's ok to baby.” you squeeze his thigh as reassurance but that causes jeongin to let out a soft grunt and tense more under your hand.

“no.” he huffs, his patience running very thin. “it hurts.” you stare at him, utterly confused. with a huff, jeongin grabs your hand that's on his thigh and places it on his crotch.

“oh. oh!” his cock is straining against the rough material of his black jeans. he bucks his hips in the palm of your hand for some sort of friction but it's not enough to suffice and feed this hunger he has. “why.. how?”

“i..i dont know. i just… looked at you and now i feel so hot and bothered.” his chest rises up and down fast. he squirms in his seat, pulling at the fabric of his shirt as a way of saying ‘get it off me’

“i want to see you.” his eyes scan you, undressing and eating you up. you feel bashful and aware of his prying eyes. he takes his seatbelt off and struggles to unbuckle the belt of his own jeans. “take them off.”

“excuse me?” you stutter. 

“take them off. your pants. off. please. i want to see you, yn.”

“we're in public, jeongin. anyone can see us!” you stumble over your words.

“the windows are tinted.” he states. an argument you lose in an instant. you can't deny, however, that his request has left you feeling a little tingly in the pit of your stomach. “please.”

you nod, giving in to him; as always. you take off your pants, throwing them to the side. jeongin watches you, eyes never leaving you as he licks his lips hungrily.

“c’mer.” rough hands grab your waist and pull you onto his lap. you have no option but to situate your legs on either side of him. his large hands reach behind you to grab the soft flesh of your ass.

“mhm.. missed you.” he murmurs as he massages, squeezes and plays with your ass cheeks. you chew your bottom lip gently, your body twitching every now and then. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. more guttural groans erupt from the back of his throat as he takes in mouthfuls of your scent. “smells good”

“we should go home. you're drunk.” you say in an attempt to stop him. 

“’m fine.” he states. “just want to touch you some more, that's all.” his lips start to pepper kisses along the skin of your neck. they’re soft and gentle at first, but they’re quick to turn into hot, wet open mouth kisses where he leaves behind marks in the form of purple bruises and teeth.

“then can we go home?” you struggle to say due to you slowly losing your composure as jeongin attacks you sweet spots. his large hands playing and fondling with your ass cheeks, occasionally disappearing under the fabric of your t-shirt to stroke your growing hot skin.

“maybe. or maybe i’ll just devour you right here, right now.” he purrs. you shuffle on his lap to get comfy, your core throbbing and stomach tingling. your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as a way to help ground yourself.

“devour me? how?” you play dumb. your body tingles with pleasure. your core is throbbing and you can feel your slick being soaked up by your panties, creating an embarrassing wet spot.

“like this.” his seat falls back, taking you with him. in one swift moment, he manhandles you onto his face so you're straddling him. his large hands on your thighs, gripping them with force.

“baby!” you peer down at your hazy boyfriend, his head between your legs. you feel his breath fanning against your clothed core, the dampness in your panties intensifying with each puff of air.

“what?” he says nonchalantly. 

“you're unbelievable!” you squeak in embarrassment. the lewd position you're in makes you feel bashful; even though it's not your first time like this with him but it is a first in public.

“and you smell good.” he groans. his long finger trails from your thigh, to your inner thigh and to your clothed core. he presses his finger against your core, against the wet patch on the fabric and hums in satisfaction.

“you're wet.” he states, feeling somewhat cocky and proud. “i haven't done anything and you're wet.”

“s-shut up! you don't have to state it. gosh, this is so embarrassing.” you whine.

“not embarrassing. hot. so fucking hot. you have no idea the effect you have on me, yn.” he peers up at you, his foxlike eyes boring into your soul. he turns his head slightly, planting open mouth kisses on your inner thigh, closing in on your core.

he runs his finger in between your folds, adding a bit of pressure when his finger bumps against your now swollen clit. with each bump, your thighs jerk and twitch. jeongin can feel you throb against his finger.

his own cock throbs at the sight, touch and smell of you. it's begging to be free–and it will be in due time.

“wanna taste.” he mumbles as he hooks his finger on one side of your panties and pulls the flimsy fabric to the side. if it wasn't for his patience being paper thin, he would’ve ripped them off you. the very sight and smell of you is driving him insane and it hurts. the cold air mixes and hits your slick folds, making you gasp. “holy fuck.” 

you watch your hazy boyfriend lick his lips as if he is about to devour a meal. he brings your hips forward a little more. you buck at the sudden contact of his warm and wet tongue being pressed against your cunt.

“j-jeongin.” you moan out softly. he grabs the hem of your t-shirt, bringing it up to your lips.

“hold this.” he instructs against your folds. you bite down on your t-shirt, the fabric rises up and exposes your soft stomach and breasts.

his tongue is back on your cunt, lapping your slick and core like a dog lapping up water. he sucks and kisses your clit, rubbing the swollen bud occasionally with the tip of his tongue.

he grips onto your ass, pulling you down on his face more. you worry that you might crush him and try to resist but his strength overpowers you. 

hot open mouth kisses on your cunt. jeongin slurping and panting like a dog in heat. his hips bucking in the air as he eats you, gathering your slick on his tongue. he whimpers and moans at the taste, his rough hands keeping all your weight on his face as you crush his skull.

your legs tense around him several times. his tongue slips between your folds and into your core. jeongin is a mess. a panting, pussy drunk mess as he tongue fucks your core until you’re sobbing. 

once confident that you’re going to keep all your weight on him, he removes his hands from your ass. his large hands slide up the softness of your stomach to under your breasts where he grabs them roughly, one in each hand, to squeeze and toy with them.

your moans are muffled by your t-shirt. a damp patch forming from your saliva as you struggle to keep the fabric between your lips. your hands have found their way to jeongin's hair, pulling and tugging at the strands.

the air in the car is thick. the windows misting over with condensation. you don't want to be loud but you want to be at the same time.

the thrill of knowing that you're in public, having you pussy eaten by your boyfriend who is completely pussy drunk and fucked out because of you makes you tingle.

one of jeongin's hands leaves your breast to reach behind you. you hear him fumbling with his jeans, struggling to unbutton and unzip them. he grunts in frustration before lifting his hips up to pull down his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

he shivers as his hand wraps around the base of his throbbing cock. he squeezes a few times before rubbing his thick, veiny cock. he treats himself by rubbing his pink head with his thumb, smearing the over flowing pre cum around his sensitive head.

he's a mess. you're a mess. his chin and lips are coated in saliva and slick. your body is hot and coated in sweat. the stimulation of everything is too much for you. you feel light and woozy but you don’t want the pleasure to stop. jeongin tries to time the strokes of his hand with the thrusts of his tongue inside you but he fails quickly, becoming uncoordinated and sloppy.

“not gonna last long. ’m sensitive.” he mumbles. you nod, unable to speak as you feel the same. your stomach is tight, a knot forming very quickly. his tongue leaves your hole to lick between your folds, his nose bumping against your clit.

you're just a sobbing mess. tears spilling for the corners of your eyes. your thighs crushing his skull. hands not knowing where to be placed for stability so you settled with one hand on the roof of the car and the other on the window, leaving a handprint behind in the condensation.

your only thought is how much (and how badly) you want to cum.

jeongin is no different. his cock is hot to the touch. tip sensitive and begging to be inside you. his hand isn't enough for him to feel satisfied and he knows it, but he wants to wait until he gets home to have his way with you.

“close.” he groans. as you open your mouth to talk, your t-shirt falls back down.

“m-me too.. oh fuck, me too.” you kick your head back, succumbing to the pleasure. you rock your hips a little on jeongin's face, a smirk on his face as he watches you lose yourself in the pleasure he's providing.

“you're so fucking hot, yn. look at you riding my face like a good girl.” his words are muffled but it's loud enough for you to hear. you can't respond however, just nod and moan at his words..

“feels good. feels so good, baby. wanna cum.”

“want to cum on my face? make a mess outta me?”

“yes. i do. want to make a mess on you.” you beg.

“go ahead. do it. cum for me, yn.” the coil in your stomach tightens and snaps. your thighs shake as your orgasm hits you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs and making you see stars. you cry out his name like a mantra, jeongin lapping at your core to catch your essence that spills from you.

his hand picks up in pace before soon, his own hips buck and cock throbs as he cums onto his own hand and stomach. slow, languid strokes of his cock to help ride out his high as he licks you clean before the high subsides; leaving you both breathless and exhausted.

you lift yourself up and off his face the best your jelly legs can muster. you look down at him, shivering as that look in his eyes from earlier is still there.

“we need to go home. now.” he instructs in urgency.

“are you ok?” 

“no. i’m not. it still hurts, yn.” you look behind you to see his hand still stroking his cock, which has failed to go soft from his orgasm; but now it's angry. sticky sounds emit from his cock as he uses his own mess to stroke himself.

“jeongin…” you start only to be cut off.

“yn. i don't think you understand the urgency of my situation. if you don't drive home right this second, i am going to drag you onto my lap and fuck you until you can't walk in the morning.” 

you swallow at his words. they go straight to your core. 

“that.. doesn't sound like a bad idea..” you mumble, looking at your, now somewhat sober, boyfriend.

“i don't think you un–”

“no, i understand.” you mumble, removing his hand from his cock. you shimmy down to line yourself up, holding the base and rubbing his tip between your soaked folds. “and i don't mind. we've come this far, so why stop now?”

“...fuck.” he holds onto your waist as you slowly lower yourself onto his member. his size stretches you, and because of your earlier orgasm, you're tighter than usual. 

he hisses as he shieths himself in your tight cunt. the warmth and tightness makes him stop breathing for a nanosecond. he watches his length disappear and become encapsulated with delicious warmth.

“just know–hng, fuck!–just know that you can't go back on your words. it's going to be a long night for you, yn.”

[lostinlovingrevery]

Prince Charming

Old Man Logan X F!Reader

Plot: He's really no Prince Charming, but he is to you, and you'll treat him like one too.

A/N: I really just wanted to write old man Logan being taken care of...and also being a little softer because he had someone taking care of him...I just want to give him a hug (and other things...)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only!!), Oral (M recieving), Fluff too!! reader gives Logan a massage (in more ways than one ;) ) pet names like princess and baby used, reader loves Logan a lot, a small section of angst but not really?

Word Count: 2401

Soft jazz played in the background as candlelight flickers against the wall of your…bedroom- if you could call it that. Curtains pulled over large windows, fluffy rugs on the floor, a few pieces of furniture placed carefully around the room, with pictures and decorations and a lamp that gave the room a warm, soft lighting- creating an inviting atmosphere that was nothing but welcoming and cozy. The sound of a shower running in the background added to the relaxing atmosphere that you managed to create inside of a smelting plant. 

So, was living in an abandoned factory what you imagined you would be doing when you grew up? Not exactly; especially considering you’d always wanted a castle… an old smelting plant can be kinda like a castle, right?

But, did you get that ‘prince charming’ you always dreamed of?

Well…maybe not everyone would call him Prince Charming…

But you did. Handsome, brave, intelligent. He was someone you’d always dreamed of sweeping off your feet and he did exactly that. Your Prince Charming has adamantium bones, lived over 200+ years (he probably met your great grandfather!), and is the crankiest motherfucker some days when there’s rain coming and his old metal bones get a little rusty and needed oiling like Tin man from Wizard of Oz (Did he see that when it first came out in 1939?). You adored him, and everything else was noise. 

Maybe Charles questioned your taste in men one time when he was feeling a little moody- but what does he know? He had a situationship with a guy who controls metal, and was, by the way, a bit of a nut.

You were curled up in your shared bed reading a book. When you first moved in- and eventually began sleeping in a shared bed, his bed had torn sheets, flat pillows, and a blanket that barely covered his large figure. He didn’t necessarily see an issue with that- but once you surprised him with memory foam pillows, silk bed sheets, and a huge soft duvet, he quickly changed his tune. He’d come home from a long night at work, collapse into the bed, and his aching bones would melt into the mattress as he’d fall asleep almost immediately, you’d wake up in the night- tucking him in at your side and kiss him on the cheek, and go back to sleep.

That’s what you did, you took care of him all the ways he didn’t take care of himself.

You heard the shower turn off, and in a moment Logan came in, towel wrapped low around his hips, his hair wet on his forehead, and he pushed the wet strands back as he walked to the dresser that sat parallel to the bed. You bit your lip as you admired his figure, watching water dripping down his hairy chest and abs, as your eyes trailed down to the prominent vein that disappeared below the hem of the towel, curse that towel.

“I did your laundry today-” You informed him, snapping out of your lustful state, and he looked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and a warm smile came across his face.  

“Thanks princess.” He says in a low voice, walking over to you and leaning over to give you a peck on the lips- something you happily returned, settling on your knees to meet him halfway. He groaned as he attempted to straighten back out.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled, hand going to his back, “Back s’just killing me from sitting in that damn car all the time.” 

You look at him sympathetically, when an idea strikes your head. You crawl backward and patted the bed. “C'mon, lay down.” You say. He raised a brow, unsure of what you wanted, 

“Feeling frisky baby?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes- but you couldn’t help your smile. Maybe you were, but that wasn’t what you were planning. Yet. 

Shaking your head, you patted the bed again, “Lay on your belly. Off with the towel too” You say. He gave you a questioning look once more, but eventually obliged. You were never one to do something he wouldn’t have enjoyed anyway. He dropped the towel, giving you a nice view of his member, before he climbed onto the bed, and landing on his stomach; He wrapped his arms around a pillow, face planting into it as he waited for you to do whatever shenanigan you were planning for him. You smiled at his resting figure, reaching over to pinch one of his buttocks

“Ay!” He growled. You giggled, holding your hands up to show you wouldn’t do it again, and returned to your task. 

Reaching over, you grabbed your favorite scented lotion, before moving to straddle his back, around his waist. He let out a soft groan, not because of the weight of you- it was slightly comforting to have the pressure of you there, relieving some tense muscles over where you sat. 

Flipping the cap of the lotion off, you squeezed a generous amount onto your hands, clasping them and rubbing the lotion into them, before you placed your hands on Logan's shoulders. You gasped at just how knotted and tense they felt- you’d think the shower would have loosened him up a bit…

He let out a small groan as you pushed and pulled at the muscles in his shoulder, slowly- but surely, you began to loosen the knots as you massaged the lotion into his skin. Using different techniques, like rubbing your thumbs in circles in various spots- that really made him groan, something that sounded almost erotic. You grinned, as your hands moved down to his shoulder blades and upper back.

“Keep moaning like that and even Caliban and Charles will hear you.” You comment, he grunted.

“Let em, I don’t care.” He mutters into his pillow, turning his head so you could understand him. A small giggle escaped you, as you continued your ministrations over his back, palming at tense points and working at his large muscles, thumbs pressing into knots and loosening them, you ran your nails up and down his back- scratching the skin that sent shivers through his whole body. 

You admired the scars on his skin; as you felt every ridge and bump as you ran your hands over his back and up his arms. You knew it wasn’t a good thing, that he doesn’t quite heal like he used to. You still saw them as a part of him, a beautiful part of him that made him a survivor, that kept him alive and kept him coming back to you. You didn’t know how close it would be before those wounds couldn’t heal up, when he may not make it home. You weren’t one to worry about the future though- not when he was here with you now, and you could take care of him the way he deserved. 

You worked him over for an hour, and at one point you were pretty sure he fell asleep, waking up after and claiming he didn’t fall asleep. You sat up on your knees, and gently pat his side, urging him to now roll on his back, which he does so in a slow movement. 

“That was great baby.” He muttered, his eyes half-lidded, and his large hands moved to rest on your thighs that hugged his waist as you sat back to straddle his waist. You smiled, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, pressing your hands to his chest. 

“I’m not done yet.” You say softly, kissing the tip of his nose, and then his lips. Your hands smoothed down his chest and over his stomach, your fingers twining through his coarse chest hair. You ran your nails down the skin- making his stomach flex in reaction and you grinned. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks at the sight of your amusement. You smiled down at him and nodded, before moving your hips- grinding against him. Something serious came across his face, as his hands began to squeeze your thighs, leaving dimples in the skin. You rolled your hips again, and you could feel him getting harder underneath you. “So you were just getting frisky hm?”

“I’m just taking care of you Lo-” You say innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him, you wiggle your hips down, shuffling down his body, where you start pressing kisses over his chest. Your eyes looked up at him as you ran a tongue over his nipple, eliciting a muffled groan as he tightened his jaw, and squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling as he felt anticipation surge through him at every touch you pressed on him. You moved down his stomach, reaching the vein you were staring at earlier, sticking your tongue out, you licked down it- right to his pelvis, and he let out a shaky breath.

You felt slick between your legs at the sound of Logan becoming worked up. He always acts like the boss, the protector, and the provider. The moment you go down on him though, treating him like the prince you saw him as he melts in your arm like putty, appreciating the soft tenderness you give him, and the care you take to make sure everything feels good for him- that he enjoyed you the way you enjoy him. It turned you on hearing what you do to him.

“You’re something else, princess…” He mutters under his breath. You grinned against his skin, as you took in the smell of him, he smelled of cedar and whiskey, the scent of a soap you got him a while back. You bit the skin of his pelvis, making him thrust forward with a groan, as you soothe it over with your tongue. Your hands continued running up and down his belly, as you finally made contact with his erect member. You licked your lips as you sized him up. He was large, the prominent vein from his stomach traveling up to a swollen red tip that leaked a generous amount of precum- beautiful

Logan was an old man, but you never had trouble getting him up. 

Planting yourself between his legs on your belly, you kicked your legs playfully behind you as you took his member in your hand, tapping his tip against your lips, before sticking your tongue out, licking the vein from the bottom of his shaft to the top, as your other hand fondled his balls. He groaned. 

“You like playing with me don’t ya princess?” He rasped, sitting himself up on his elbows so he could get a nice view of you and watch as you took care of him.

You smiled sinfully up at him, and you felt his cock twitch in your hand. His lips parted as he took you in before him, his eyes full of lust. “I’m just helping you not be so tense baby.” You cooed, beginning to stroke his member up and down, he tipped his head back, as you began stroking faster, before taking his tip between your lips, swirling around him and moaning at the taste of him on your tongue. You never truly enjoyed the taste of someone until you met him, and some days it felt like you couldn’t get enough. 

His hand went to your cheek, carefully caressing it- before reaching to pull your hair out of your face- holding it back for you as you worked over him. 

“Look at you darling, so damn pretty…How’d an old man like me get someone like you?” He muttered. You took him deeper into your mouth, slowly working your tongue around him, as spit began to dribble down your chin as you messily sucked him off. He moaned, his hips moving forward, his length going deeper into your mouth, his tip nearly at the back of your throat. You knew he was getting desperate, eager- just barely holding back from shoving you down on him and forcing you to take him completely. You moaned at the thought, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess.” He breathed, his voice losing that deep timber, wavering- signaling to you that he was getting closer. 

Your hands braced against his thighs, as you took him in fully down your throat, gagging a bit before you force yourself to swallow, allowing you to bob up and down on his throbbing cock without as much trouble. His hand that held your hair back set the desired pace as he brought you back up to his tip, and down the base, where your eyes began to water, as his very hairy crotch tickled your nose. He was panting, and you now let him take over, as spit covered you chin and his cock, he began thrusting his hips up into your mouth. You felt his thighs begin to shake, and he was cursing under his breath before finally pulling you down over him- head tipped back, a loud curse escaping him, and you felt hot spurts of his cum going down your throat. The pure sight of him was enough to make your legs shake, your stomach tensing as small spasms of an orgasm ran through your body. He let go of your hair, body shaky as you continued to suck him until he rode through his orgasm, and pulled off of him with a pop. You licked your lips, wiping your chin off of the spit. 

He fell back onto the bed, a groan escaping him as he brought his hand up to his face, running it down.

“Fuck princess, you’re something else.” He mutters, and you clambered over him, giving him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” He says softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. 

“Love you too honey.” You purred, kissing his cheek and then his jaw, before curling into his side, his arms wrapping around you. “You feel better?”

“Much.” He mutters, and you could hear he was falling asleep, making you smile. “I’ll return the favor, don’t worry.”

You hummed. “Not a favor Lo. I like taking care of you.”

You felt the small exhale of his chest, and you knew it was an exhale of relief. One where he is silently asking, “What did I do to deserve you?” and you knew simply that all it was, was that he was your prince- and you were his princess. 

[jaggedamethyst]

easy (part 2) (bucky barnes x gn!reader)

content: secret relationship/established relationship, miscommunication/misunderstanding, angst, self-doubt, mentions of death, cheating (kind of), not proofread

notes: part two this this...good luck lmao (a short one but it’s the right length i fear)

main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

You’d been woken up by the sounds of knocks on your door. They started off normal and quickly became more frantic…aggressive, even. 

The sound of your name made you sit up on the floor. Suddenly, the door pushed open—revealing Bucky there. His hair was disheveled, clearly having run his hands through it. He hadn’t bothered with saying hi, kneeling in front of you and looking you over.

He cupped your face, “Are you okay?” He pressed into you more, nudging you to sit up. “What are you doing down here?”

You reached out to him, making sure you hadn’t tricked yourself, that he was really here. 

He continued, “What happened? Sharon said you disappeared and she couldn’t find you.” 

Somehow Bucky was missing the point. You could only blink at that, knowing that his energy was so misplaced. Why would he care about you right now when this entire relationship had so quickly gone awry? Why would he focus on you being on the floor when he ruined this—him. 

Bucky spoke again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “I called you a shit ton, where’s your phone?” 

“Don’t know.” 

He paused, confused at your first and only words to him being so carelessly spoken. “Steve said he saw you—that you just…ran.“ 

You nodded. You had ran. Swift motions out of the building and to your place weren’t enough to erase the imagery in your brain. The way Bucky had seemed so carefree—so happy. With someone who wasn’t you, most importantly. A woman who looked so remarkably different than you. 

Your skin and body physically repelled him—pushing him away without a thought. Moving to stand, you watched his face twist in hurt. 

“How was recon?” 

“It was fine…am I missing something?” 

You ignored the question, asking your own. “You said Steve told you he saw me?” He nodded. “Did he know who I was?”

“Course he knew who you were—he’s my best friend.” 

You bought your in front of you, wringing them together. “Does she?” The question was meant to quell your anxiety, but instead made the prospect of him cheating infinitely harder to swallow. You looked at him expectantly, an answer seeming to escape him—despite you both knowing what happened that evening. 

“Does who?” 

“Natasha…Romanoff…the one you went on recon with.” You moved your head as you slowly spoke the words—breaking it down for him. “Does she know about me? About us?” 

“You know that we keep this a secret for your safety. We’ve talked about this a thousand times-“ 

“No, you keep it a secret and you've talked about it.” You moved to sit on the couch, “I agreed because I love you and I understand the stress of your job. But what I saw today,” you shook your head and looked up at him across the room. “That wasn’t a secret for my benefit. It was for yours.” 

“That’s just not true.” Bucky moved from his spot, finally, stepping across the room to sit beside you. “You have to understand my perspective on this. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the cause of anything happening to you.”

You twisted your entire face, staring up with an incredulous look. “Did you stop to consider how much worse it would be to have to live with the knowledge of you doing god knows what every time you’re not here?” You paused, feeling his hands attempt to wrap around you. Moving back instantly, you continued, “What happened with her? What haven’t I seen?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky waved his hands in front of him, emphasizing his words. “Nothing happened-“ 

“I saw you. Sharon showed me the feed, Bucky.” 

His face glazed over in realization—not that you had seen him with her, but that you had seen him with her. Bucky’s head started to move on its own, searching for how to make sense of this for you. “That wasn’t what it looked like.” 

A huff escaped you. Without a second thought you got up and moved toward the door, Bucky right on your trail. “If we’re gonna act like this you can just go.” You put a hand on the door handle, raising a brow at him. “You of all people know I won’t sit here and look stupid. Not when I’ve already wasted so much time waiting for you.” 

A moment passed, the reality of what you were saying lingering in the room. The two of you had talked about it before, how you’d waited so long for someone like him to appear. There’d been years of self discovery and “loving yourself first” before Bucky showed you that someone else could. When that happened, you settled for the relationship existing in its very specific confines—under the lock and key of his life’s restrictions. Even then, he’d get a call; people needed him. Bucky would go away for however long, and you’d wait. The amount of time spent yearning for the world to suddenly be quicker for you, for him, was immense. In every instance it seemed that despite the relatively common cosmic occurrences he’d faced, none of Bucky’s opponents could grant your wish—to get the man you loved back to you sooner. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke. You watched his hands ball into a fist, angered with himself. The mechanical whir of his arm filling the empty space. “I don’t feel that way about her.” 

You scoffed at that. He sounded so textbook it was physically making you ill. 

He continued, though, “She’s been my friend for a long time. We spend a lot of time together…and I wanted to tell her about you.” He inhaled, “But I didn’t. I don’t know why.” 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“Of course not…and she kissed me. I regret making her feel like there was even a slight chance of me seeing her that way—because I don’t. I can’t.” His voice wavered, “Can’t because I only love you.”

He reached a hand out to you and it caused you to move away from him—impossibly closer to the door. 

“Bucky…I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Doll, please-“

You waved a hand, interrupting him, “Wait—just…listen.” You let go of the door, fully looking at him now. “I don’t think I can be with you if it’s like this.” He let you continue, “I know you want to protect me, but all of this has hurt me more than it could’ve ever helped. I feel so removed from you—like I don’t know you outside of our apartment walls.” Sweat had accumulated on your palms, making you realize how anxiety-inducing this had been. “I haven’t felt confident in myself around you in…a while-“

“But-“ 

“Bucky, please.” He nodded, stilling himself in commitment to let you speak. “That’s not your fault…but I think I need space to figure out why that is.” 

Bucky whispered your name, a shakiness on his voice. “I just…can’t stomach the idea of you dead…dying...because of me.” 

“I would’ve.” You moved to open the door. “I think I would’ve been fine facing death as long as everyone knew I loved you first.” You stepped back from the threshold and offered him the space to step out. “But they don’t. Nobody knows except us. That hurts.” 

Bucky didn’t speak as he stepped toward the hall. His entire figure seemed to hang lower than normal, and it pained you to see. You felt the heat of tears in your eyes, but you wouldn’t cry. There was a sort of satisfaction in facing this—breaking up with Bucky. It was always going to happen, you reasoned, so bearing your soul…crying…would’ve been too easy.  

tags (tried to get everyone who asked lol)

@julvrs @shanksstrawhat @vicmc624 @preeyas-world @ilovemcuff @winchestert101 @caity1995 @hereforfun-31 @cjand10 @nadinekr @wintercrows @read-just-cant @behindmygreyeyes @ordelixx @pklol @bookworm3570 @largarei @fairlyfatale @kittenkiryu

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ SO THIS IS LOVE…? 🧸ྀི — myungjae realizing he loves you ( wc 365 )

[ extras ! ] pissing LMFAO ??, they are dating. could be read as both (non)idol myungjae! + implied they are neighbors

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! me when love in mundane acts and everyday activities and silly moments an d and and--- (someone lock me up i am not sane)

@kstrucknet 🪽

“hi, can i piss at yours?”

jaehyun was staring at you, wide eyed. he barely opened the door and had time to register it’s you, when you hit him with a rather weird question.

“what?” he breathed out, blinking.

“piss. you know, urine. the thing that comes out of your bladder–“ you started explaining, wriggling a little.

jaehyun scoffed, reaching to fix your half undone scarf. you were clearly in a rush, hair disheveled by the wind and cheeks rosy.

“yeah, i know what piss is, just…” he snorted, stepping aside, giving up with a small sigh “come on in”

“thanks!” you yelped and almost threw your bag at him, shimmying your coat and scarf on your way to the toilet.

your boyfriend smiled to himself, shaking his head. you could’ve easily just go to your place – you were living next door, literally. but you still decided to go to his. and just the absurdity of this situation made him chuckle.

“you know, i wanted to pee really badly when i was on the bus i couldn’t hold it anymore!” you yelled from the toilet as he closed the door and started picking up the clothes you dropped. “by the way, there’s garlic bread in my bag, you can eat it!”

jaehyun dived in and found it. it was cold as stone, probably due to the temperature outside.

“it might be halfway eaten though… i was hungry!” you continued chatting with him naturally.

jaehyun started at the cold garlic bread in his hand, the bite marks shaped like a heart. a lopsided smile painted on his face, a realization blooming in his head.

he loves you.

he could get used to such silly mundane moments. or rather, chaotic ones.

“by the way, there’s a package at the door!”

he looked up and saw you, blinking.

“what?” you asked, tilting your head “i washed my hands, i promise!”

“i… it’s nothing” he huffed and gently knocked the countertop with the cold bread “let me reheat this. you can grab the package, it’s probably the clothes we ordered”

when you left, humming a random song, he was nodding to himself.

so this is what love feels like.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

[itstheghostofmypast]

Sugarplum

Husband Choi San x (F) Reader

Summary: So he loved HIS ROLLS HUH?!

Genre: Fluff

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1 K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

"IDIOTS!-"

Sitting up straight the man squinted at the dimly lit room, trying to blink away the sleep as he pushed off the soft quilts, the pads of his feet tingling at the feeling of the cold floor. A feeling he did not like but had to endure because his little sugarplum wasn't in bed with him. Well, technically you had not gone to bed with him, instead the two of you had argued about something before he retired off to bed- mind you, it was not his fault, it was the world that was against him today…or maybe he should have been more careful? There was no real defense, but he did not expect to find you at home, glaring at him as soon as he had entered the apartment, declaring his arrival on the top of his lungs.

“Oh look Byeolie, a cheater.”

“I-Excuse me?” he squeaked, staring at you standing there in the living room with your hands on your hips, wearing a messy apron, glaring at him.

“Come on Byeol, we don’t need to engage with cheaters.”

That statement had led to march into the kitchen and stared at his wife teary eyes, “W-what do you mean? Love, what’s wrong? I-I’m sure there's been a misunderstanding!” he’d never do something like that to you, especially not when he started courting you the moment your father had hired him, a college student in his first year, and you had to supervise him, even though you two were almost the same age. From the way you would help him with everything, cleaning, mopping, teaching him how to knead dough, how to use a frosting pipe, and how to make a perfect cup of coffee- he really should thank you for that more.

Though for some reason you didn’t budge, he noticed the way your expressions softened, but you said nothing and only turned around to face the scattered baking items on the counter, taking a deep breath as you mumbled, “I’ll bring you dinner.”

After a silent lonely dinner, he had gone to place his plates in the dishwasher, glancing at you for some kind of reaction but you kept avoiding him, too busy doing something else, even Byeol had decided to give him the silent treatment. He honestly couldn’t figure out what he had done? Even when he hugged you from behind, whispering, “Let’s…go to sleep.” You had slipped out of his hold and cleared your throat, “I’m not tired…you go on ahead.”

Oh…right, he had gone to bed alone too- but why weren’t you there with him?

He had thought of talking to you about it, when you were to come to bed, but he had work in the morning and he was tired, and somewhere between the ticking hours, he had fallen asleep, snuggling with your pillow.

Giving one last look at your shared bed, feeling something brew within him, he continued to walk out to the room, wanting to clear it out no matter what it was, your relationship was stronger than this, you two had gone through worse- but he knew that you were also someone who’d quiet down when you were unsure of something. Like the time he had to quit working at the bakery, simply because he was done with college and needed to pursue a job in his designated profession.

“You're….quitting?” You had mumbled, staring at the letter of resignation your father had signed to let him go with pride. You had watched him appreciate San's success, though you only stared at him blankly before going back to work, and much like now, when he had approached you, you had brushed him off, mumbling, “Bye”.

Only back then he had let you go, nodding and leaving, though over the years he had realised his mistake, the world had shaped the young boy into the same man who had barged into the bakery four years later, admiring the way how you, the new owner since your father had retired, was busy as a bee. That is until he had grabbed your hand and dragged you into the office and kissed you without question, which was stupid because as soon as he had pulled back you had giggled, “What if I said I'm married?” His world had come to a halt at that, the thought of being a homewrecker tearing at him for a good 10 minutes until you burst out laughing at his stupidity.

So, that's what he was gonna do now to, kiss it out of you, he was going to sit you down after and explain to you how if he had never met you back in the bakery, his twink era, he would probably never have found love-

“GOD, I HATE MEN!”

He peeked into the kitchen, flinching at the clang of the pot you had slammed on the counter, it was ironic how Byeol who was curled up on your cardigan that was bunched up on the bar stool, next to the one he was now sitting on, chin in palm.

You turned around and gasped, hand pressed against your heart, taking a deep breath, “I-God, you scared me- s-sorry, did I wake you up, Sannie?”

‘Sannie'- guess the anger had subsided.

Shaking his head he gave you a small pout, “Woke up cause you weren't there- are you…do you wanna tell me…what's going on?” He mumbled, staring around at the several cinnamon roll trays that were lying around the kitchen, the pan filled with the white cream sauce, some that had made its way onto Byeol's tail.

“I…nothing… its stupid.” You mumbled, as you began to clean up, trying not to look at him when he made his way to you and grabbed your hands, pulling you closer, “You signed a contract with stupidity when you married me.”

Closing your eyes at his stupid comment, you mumbled like a child, “I saw you having the Cinnamon rolls from Jung's bakery.”

“What.” He frowned, trying to hear you better, “You saw me having Wooyoung’s what?”

“HIS CINNAMON ROLLS!”

You shoved him away and pointed at the mess, “You bastard! U married me!” You pointed at yourself, “And then you have the balls to go and have his stupid rolls!? And” you picked up a roll, “His recipe is so stupid! Men are so stupid! Why is everything measured according to ‘just wing it gurl’- what does that even mean!?” He blinked at you, watching you screech like a hawk at 3 am, “That bastard! I told him I'd trade my strawberry tart recipe with him if he gave me his cinnamon roll recipe that YOU apparently love-”

The slight pressure on your lips cut you off, as you to fisted his shirt in frustration, tugging him closer until he cupped your face to create some room to take a breath- he'd have to piss you off more if that's the kind of kiss he’d get- “I…” he panted, resting his forehead against yours, “Only had them because your bakery was closed today…remember?”

“...”

“I love you, my sweet little sugarplum-”

“Shut up and help me clean, Choi.”

[dahlibae]

hiii i really really love your writing and your blog!! it’s so so pretty <33. i also adore your mommy wanda :). some ideas! (as per your latest post)

I literally cannot stop thinking about coming home drunk to mommy wanda after being out with your friends, and being so so affectionate with her and wanting to kiss her all night. she wants to get you to bed because it’s late and you can be stubborn, and somewhere along the way you tell her you’re wet. just her undressing you and you sweetly showing her how wet you are and how badly you want her, even though you’re too drunk for sex. she tries to soothe you and cuddles you to sleep despite your whines and whimpers as you fight bedtime.

hii nonniee! ehh thank you, you’re so sweet hehehe. i love writing for mommy wanda so much, she’s just so kind and pwetty and lovin! :3

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

yes! to follow from your idea… you’d literally be like bambi, stumbling over your feet as you make your way into the house. wanda would notice your arrival and make her way down the stairs when she finally catches sight of you, and to her, you look sooo adorable! your cheeks flushed and eyes glassy from both alcohol and the cold night, as you struggle with an ice cream container, mumbling under your breath about, “how stupid it is to put lids on ice cream.” actually, she should be reprimanding you for trying to eat ice cream at this night. it was one of mommy rules… you can have only one bowl of ice cream a day before bed, and you already had todays before you went out. but she can’t help but laugh at your antics and when you finally notice her, you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the ice cream, placing it against the countertop along the way to run into her already open arms. wanda’s nose would crinkle at the smell of alcohol lingering on you and yet she’d still bury her face into the top of your hair, inhaling your scent - her own shampoo and conditioner - deeply.

“did you enjoy hanging out with your friends?” she’d ask, and you’d pull away slightly, reaching on your tiptoes with a small pout on your face as you lean in… clearly you were feeling not all that talkative and very clingy. wanda ofc wouldn’t be able to resist, and so, she’d place a chaste kiss to your lips before attacking your cheeks, and your nose, and your chin… and you’d step out of her grasp, your girlish giggles quickly becoming little hiccups, so she’d take the initiative to grab your hands, “cmon baby, let’s get you to bed huh?”

the move from the kitchen to the bedroom would be a bit of a blur for you, considering you managed to walk into the walls a few times… and wanda - failing to hold her laughter back - had to carry you the rest of the way. safely in your room, she’d try to put you down on the bed but you wouldn’t have it, clinging even tighter to the tall woman as you whined your dislike into the crook of her neck. she’d try to steady you, her voice soft but firm, telling you that, “it’s time for bed,” but you’re stubborn, leaning into her warmth, murmuring about how much you love her, how much you need her right now. you’d shiver, heat instead of the earlier cold now spreading through your chest, and somewhere in your rambling, you begin to tug at the waistband of your skirt, tugging the material down your legs as far as you could.

wanda obviously knew you were wet. she could practically feel you, your drenched panties doing nothing to protect you, but she knew now wasn’t the time... her baby needed to rest! and so, she managed to set you down, fingers working quick to undress you, and your touches grew more insistent, lips brushing against her jaw, your voice a sweet but needy whisper, telling her how badly you want her, how you’ve wanted her all night and can’t wait any longer. she’d hush you, hands warm and soothing as she tucks you under the duvet and a mountain of blankets, promising that, “you’ll have all of tomorrow to play with mommy.”

and despite your whines and little protests, she’d manage to get you settled, holding you close as you snuggle into her, fingers occasionally wandering, your lips pressing sleepy kisses to her bare skin. she’d stroke your hair, her voice soft, as she murmurs for you to go to sleep, her patience endless as she calms you with gentle reassurances. eventually, the warmth of her embrace and the soothing rhythm of her voice would lull you into a deep sleep. your stubbornness melting away as you finally surrender to rest in her warm arms.

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

Alright! Rosie got the last one. Now it’s my turn. 

First off, credit where credit's due, I actually agree with you on the origin comic for the most part. Adding that first traumatic return to the backstory really undercuts the catharsis of the moment Veth finally returns to Yeza in Xhorhas and he embraces her unconditionally after all the built up tension of not knowing if he was going to, imo. This is the last place we agree unfortunately.

However, I have to tell you that nobody was actually misunderstanding you before. They got what you were saying, they just disagreed with it. It is such a gross misreading of the text to say that there is something fundamentally similar about how the two of them left their respective children behind. Sure they both did, but beyond that surface-level detail every piece of context that comes after is nearly opposite. Liliana made her own independent  choice to leave a place of safety, love, and security to fulfill her own needs without her child. Veth was kidnapped and tortured and in a moment of extreme duress made the ultimate sacrifice to allow her child to escape without her.

The “Hag thing” (and GOD I can’t believe we’re re-litigating this again) does not actually prove anything about Veth accept that she’s human and experiences temptation. She didn’t take a violent action. She thought about it briefly and experienced extreme guilt immediately afterwards. If anything, that proves how deeply UNLIKE Liliana she is. When presented with a very similar choice to knowingly sacrifice potentially hundreds of lives for the sake of solving her immediate personal problem, Veth makes the opposite choice that Liliana does. She prioritizes the safety of the world. She does so a SECOND time with Halas in the happy fun ball in fact. Don’t you think Liliana would have made both of those deals in a heartbeat?  

The argument that Veth should have done more to be immediately at her husband and son’s side feels to me to be deeply rooted in this very misogynistic idea that to be the best mother possible a woman must be entirely present with her whole self for a child no matter what. What do you think would have happened, comics aside, if Veth had come home as a goblin to a town that hated the way she looked? Would You have just hid her in the basement for the rest of her life? And Luc was with the goblins too, you know. Would you want her to try and parent him using the face of the creatures who tortured and starved him? It would have done nothing but retraumatize both of them. There was never really any choice there. She made every effort she could to parent from a distance, anyway; remember the first act she makes once she has some real money in Zedash is to send it home to Luc. She also works her hardest, as you even said, to do everything in her power to get herself back as soon as possible. Would you rather her sitting meekly at home hiding in the basement, living a life of fear and secrecy, in a body she hates, hoping that some day her husband or someone else will wander by and save her?

I don’t even know what to say about the parenting stuff. Is she a dreadful parent because sometimes she goes and does other things? Because she’s not quiet and gentle and sweet with Luc? Because she’s occasionally honest about how difficult and exhausting parenting a traumatized teenager can be, especially if you have an indulgent streak out of guilt after missing years of his childhood to tragedy and circumstance? Because if you think those things make you a dreadful parent than I’m telling you now that more than half the moms in this world are going to deeply disappoint you. 

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[meazalykov]

cherished birthday

ewa pajor x reader

the best birthday of your life, and you are happy that she is here with you for it

in honor of my twentieth birthday being yesterday <3

growing up, birthdays weren’t much of a thing in your house. 

there were never any balloons tied to the dining chairs, no cake adorned with bright candles, no presents stacked in colorful wrapping paper. maybe there’d be a hurried "happy birthday" tossed your way in passing, but even that was rare. 

most years, it was just another day, and you’d long since learned not to expect anything different. 

so, you grew up pretending it didn’t matter.  

when you met ewa, she’d asked you about your birthday once, early in your relationship.  

"what do you usually like to do for it?" she’d asked casually, her hands busy tying her shoelaces before practice.  

you stood over her, remembering when ewa still played in your old city of wolfsburg..

you’d shrugged at her question. 

"nothing special."  

"nothing at all?" her eyebrows furrowed slightly. for a moment, you thought she might press further.  

"yeah, it’s not a big deal," you’d said, brushing it off with a nonchalance you had perfected over the years. ewa left it at that, maybe sensing the wall you’d put up around the topic.  

the truth was, it did matter. it mattered in ways you hated admitting, even to yourself. every year, like clockwork, a small, hollow ache would settle in your chest as the date crept closer. you’d see pictures of other people’s birthdays online…friends being showered with love, cakes topped with sparklers, laughter, and parties that seemed endless everytime you sat in the corner at one of them. 

every year, you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you. you’d remind yourself you weren’t the kind of person who needed that kind of attention.  

ewa didn’t know any of this. not about the way your heart twisted a little when someone casually mentioned their birthday plans, or the fleeting envy you felt when her teammates threw each other surprise parties in the locker room. 

you were good at hiding it, at playing it cool.  

that’s how you ended up here, sitting on the bleachers after one of barcelona’s training sessions, sipping water and idly scrolling through your phone while ewa and her teammates cooled down back in the locker rooms. 

it wasn’t until keira plopped down next to you that you realized you weren’t alone.  

"hey," keira said, wiping sweat off her forehead with the edge of her jersey.  

"hey," you replied, glancing up briefly with a small smile.  

she stretched her legs out in front of her, letting out a content sigh. 

"so, ewa says your birthday’s coming up."  

your stomach clenched. 

"oh, uh, yeah. it’s nothing big."  

"she said that too," keira said, giving you a curious look. 

"but she seemed a little confused about why you didn’t want to do anything for it."  

you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 

"it’s just another day."  

"you sure about that?" keira asked, her tone gentle but probing.  

"yeah," you said quickly, too quickly. you could feel her watching you, and it made you fidget with the cap of your water bottle.  

"y/n," keira started after a moment, leaning back on her elbows, 

"i don’t know what’s going on, but everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. even you."  

the english woman’s words made your throat tighten. 

you stared at the pitch, watching an assistant coach place a few balls back into a large bag.  

"i’ve just… never really celebrated it," you admitted quietly, surprising even yourself with the confession.  

keira turned her head to look at you, her expression softening. 

"never?"  

"not really," you muttered, twisting the bottle cap in your hands. 

"my parents… they weren’t the kind of people who made a big deal out of stuff like that. so, i just got used to it."  

keira didn’t say anything right away, letting the weight of your words settle between you. finally, she said, "does ewa know?"  

you shook your head. 

"i’ve never told her. it’s not like it matters anyway."  

keira let out a small huff of disbelief. 

"of course, it matters. you’re with her now, yeah? she’d want to know."  

"maybe," you said softly, your voice barely audible.  

keira nudged your shoulder lightly. 

"just think about it, okay? you deserve to be celebrated. even if it’s something small. let her do that for you."  

five days before your birthday, you were at work, buried in the usual chaos. the sound of the phone ringing, the hum of conversations around you, and the clicking of keyboards filled the air. 

you moved through your day, keeping busy to distract yourself from the fact that your 29th birthday was right around the corner. birthdays had never been much to you, just a day that came and went like any other. 

you convinced yourself it didn’t matter.  

this year, something will be different. unbeknownst to you, ewa was planning something.  

it started after practice.. after you left from talking to keira. you told ewa that you will see her at home and went back to work.. keira approached ewa in the locker room. leaning casually against her locker, keira tilted her head and crossed her arms.  

"ewa, can i talk to you for a second?"  

ewa, in the middle of untying her laces, looked up. 

"sure, what’s up?"  

keira’s tone softened. 

"it’s about y/n’s birthday. have you thought about doing something for her?"  

ewa frowned, straightening up. 

"i’ve asked her about it before. she always says it’s not a big deal."  

"yeah, i know she says that," keira said, 

"but do you really believe her?"  

ewa hesitated. 

"i don’t not. at the same time, i don’t want to push her or her boundaries if she’s not comfortable."  

keira sighed, sitting down next to ewa. 

"look, i had a conversation with her earlier, and she admitted she’s never really celebrated her birthday. like, ever. i think she downplays it because she’s used to it being ignored. the way she said it though… i also think, deep down, she wants to feel special. she deserves to feel special."  

ewa’s brows knit together, concern flickering in her eyes. 

"are you sure?"  

"trust me," keira said firmly. 

"a small celebration with people who care about her? it’ll mean the world to her, even if she pretends it doesn’t."  

ewa nodded slowly, her mind already spinning with ideas. 

"okay. i’ll do it. i’ll make it special for her."  

that evening, while you were still busy at work, ewa began planning. the first thing she did was call your mutual friends back in wolfsburg.  

"you want us to come to barcelona?" alex popp asked, her voice light through the phone.  

"yes," ewa said. 

"it’s y/n’s birthday soon, and i want to surprise her."  

"of course, i’m in!" alex said enthusiastically.  

"me too," lynn chimed in when ewa called her. 

"you know i’d never miss it."  

with the guest list set, ewa turned her attention to the details. she ordered an ice cream cake…your absolute favorite…and spent hours picking out decorations that were simple yet elegant for an upcoming 29 year old. 

she also started shopping for presents, determined to spoil you despite knowing your friends would bring gifts as well.  

throughout the week, ewa coordinated everything while keeping it a secret from you. she hid her phone conversations and made sure you didn’t catch on to her plans. 

you, on the other hand, were completely oblivious. you’d convinced yourself that your birthday would be just another ordinary day. but keira’s words lingered in the back of your mind: 

everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. 

so, you decided to do something small for yourself this year. just a little treat.  

finally, your birthday arrived. 

you woke up to the soft warmth of ewa’s arms around you, her voice a gentle murmur in your ear.  

"wszystkiego najlepszego, kochanie," she whispered, pressing light kisses to your temple, your cheek, and finally your lips.  

your heart fluttered at the sound of her voice, and you smiled sleepily. 

"thank you."  

ewa watched as you stretched and sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the woman’s eyes trailed down your naked back..

when you started to get out of bed, she frowned.  

"where are you going?" she asked, propping herself up on one elbow.  

"i have a few appointments," you said casually, pulling on a pair of slippers.  

ewa blinked, confused. 

"appointments? on your birthday?"  

"yeah," you said, avoiding her gaze. 

"not for work… just a pedicure, manicure, and a massage for myself. nothing big."  

ewa’s confusion melted into a warm smile.

"you’re treating yourself?"  

you nodded, feeling a little shy.

"i guess i’m just trying to be nicer to myself this year."  

ewa reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. 

"i’m proud of you, love."  

you smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

"thanks. i’ll be back around five, okay?"  

"perfect," ewa said, her heart racing as she realized how perfectly your schedule lined up with her plans. almost afraid that your plans would have jeopardized the surprise party. 

as soon as you left, ewa started putting things together. by the time five o’clock rolled around, the house was completely transformed. balloons in your favorite colors floated around the dining room, and a banner reading "happy birthday" hung across the wall. 

the beautiful ice cream cake sat in the fridge, ready for its big reveal.  

your friends from wolfsburg had arrived earlier in the day, along with some of ewa’s barcelona teammates. keira, kika, esmee, caroline, ingrid, lynn, and alex were all there, mingling and laughing as they waited for your return.  

some of your non-footballer friends were here as well, waiting to see their special friend. 

when you finally walked through the door, you noticed the lights were off, but a few stray balloons caught your attention. 

you frowned, stepping further inside.  

"ewa?" you called out, your voice hesitant.  

suddenly, the lights flickered on, and a chorus of voices shouted, "surprise!"  

you froze, your eyes widening as you took in the scene. the dining room was filled with people…your friends from wolfsburg, ewa’s barcelona teammates, and even caroline and ingrid, who you've known forever since they played with ewa at both of her clubs.  

"happy birthday!" alex said, pulling you into a tight hug.  

"you didn’t think we’d let you have a boring birthday, did you?" lynn teased, the dutch grinning ear to ear.  

"what… how…?" you stammered, overwhelmed by the sight of so many familiar faces.  

ewa appeared by your side, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"i wanted to do something special for you. you deserve it."  

tears pricked your eyes as you looked around the room, the warmth and love radiating from everyone filling your chest.  

the evening was nothing short of magical. you laughed until your sides hurt, danced with ewa and your friends, and even got competitive during an intense round of uno. when it was time for the cake, you closed your eyes and made a wish, the warmth in your chest spreading as everyone sang "happy birthday" to you.  

by the end of the night, after everyone had left around 2 a.m., you sat on the couch with ewa, tears streaming down your face.  

"thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.  

ewa cupped your face in her hands, her eyes soft and full of love. 

"you deserve to be celebrated, kochanie. i hope this year brings you nothing but happiness."  

she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. 

"happy 29th, my love."  

you smiled through your tears, your heart fuller than it had ever been. 

masterlist

[maladaptivewriting]

since the tiktok ban, i've been seeing a lot of stuff where people blame americans for jegulus and i can't stop thinking about it. i don't know why people feel this way, but i am prepared to make an argument. so please allow me to make my case.

[also this is completely based on generalizations. i know americans that hate jegulus and love jily, and i know british people who hate jily and love jegulus]

so i've never been a jily girl. even years before i found jegulus, i never cared about that ship. i straight up didn't even know that people wrote fics about them specifically. (i actually still don't know if people do write fics about only them because i would never seek out something like that).

originally, i'd thought it was just because i only cared about the golden trio characters and occasionally sirius and remus, but the more i got into the marauders era, the more i realized that james and lily together were the standouts, i just really didn't care for them.

it got to the point where i only read fics that referenced jily if they were extremely background to the story (which they almost always were bc there is just not that much to say about them) or preferably if both of them were already dead and it was just remus, sirius, and harry who remained.

shortly after i really started getting into the fandom and writing for jegulus, i spoke to someone who hated jegulus and loved jily, and i told them that i'd always felt like james and lily were on the road to divorce before they died. this person was SCANDALIZED. they could not understand why'd said that.

now granted, this person was in their early twenties and in my experience, if you haven't lived long enough to see a lot of your friends go through divorces, then the idea that james and lily might divorce may seem crazy.

however, and this is where the american thing really comes in, i realized after this conversation why i felt that there was no way that james and lily were going to make it and that was specifically because of growing up a conservative christian bible belt ass place.

do you know how many couples i knew in high school who started dating their senior year even though they seemingly had nothing in common, had sex one time and didn't use protection because sex education is extremely limited down there, got pregnant, and had to have shotgun wedding?

so. fucking. many.

do you know how many of them are still married?

only one.

so when i see jily, two characters who have nothing in common beyond being gryffindors, get together, have a kid, and get married (not necessarily in that order) all within like two years, i know that the odds are not in their favor. those two aren't staying together. don't play with me.

now i don't know how people feel about young marriages in other parts of the world, especially in the uk, but i've spoken to a lot of americans, especially ones from the south, and so many of them have had the exact same experiences with their peers. i just can't help but wonder if that lends itself to less people being interested in jily.

i have other arguments to this, like that jily is not as entertaining as almost every other ship that james or lily could be involved in and americans being partial to entertainment above all else, or the american (and christian) obsession with the concept of redemption and self sacrifice making regulus a more compelling character than one that lived and died good (lily and james), but this was the one i wanted to focus on today.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be do dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did means you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[wellofdean]

got these tags today from prev: #i think it's beautiful bc it didn't set out to be queer#life uh finds a way#it's not the best television ever#like not legit among the greats#but it had some incredible moments

And like... I have made a LOT of posts, at great length saying why I think Dean was always imagined as a queer character, and where the queerness was baked into the DNA of the show from episode one, and which I will not reprise here, but as much as I disagree that the queer glory of Supernatural is something it tripped and fell into by accident somehow, and without everyone involved knowing that queerness was part of what they were making, I do agree with something here: it's beautiful because it was a fucking journey.

Supernatural was not like today's prestige television with a tight 8-10 episodes and a fully planned narrative from day one, it was old-timey TV that arose out of things like Twin Peaks and The X-Files, falling somewhere between a weekly procedural and a serial. It had broad plot arcs sketched out, but the day-to-day grind of writing and making it was driven by characters that took on depth and meaning as it went along; network television long seasons with lots of filler that did nothing to further the serial plot, but let us get to know the characters, who became more and more lovable and real the more time we spent with them, in an organic way.

Maybe my Gen-X is showing here, but there's something beautiful about something that feels open-ended, isn't there? I mean, Supernatural STILL feels open-ended. Like, any moment now patient zero Jensen is going to suit up and tell us more of Dean's story, and we won't know where it's going and it will be fucking GREAT just to spend any time whatsoever with Dean? Television nowadays feels so PLANNED and yeah, there's some great stuff out there, but Supernatural had something special and fucking great that doesn't really exist anymore.

Like, what does it mean "one of the best" or "legit among the greats"? Supernatural was 15 years of storytelling, and for all the fucking kvetching on this, the Supernatural website, about its vagaries, it was pretty consistently well written. Jensen Ackles is a legit great actor who is seriously underrated for his sheer fucking craft, and as much as it is undeniable that Supernatural has some genuinely silly episodes, taken as a whole, when all of it is in your mind, the themes and threads in it are unironically epic in scope, and it has legitimately interesting things to say about those themes. AND it has incredible moments. AND the most devastaingly romantic love story I can think of.

Like, fellas, it's one of the best TO ME. It's legit among MY greats, and I would argue it deserves a place up there.

I got this one hobby horse, and god knows I'm gonna saddle up and ride it: Supernatural was a legitimately good show and it was queer as hell in its very bones.

[justallihere]

Okay, I did some laundry, I've had lunch, I've breathed fresh air and taken some deep breaths (did not touch any grass because it's covered in snow), and we're back. My wrap up thoughts of Onyx Storm are below! Be warned it's chock full of spoilers, and these are all my honest opinions. I haven't even given this a rating yet because I don't really know what I want to rate it! Nothing's really in order so sorry about that. But I look forward to hearing everyone else's thoughts!

I loved that the importance of the bond between dragon and human was emphasized so heavily in this book. That Asher called Aimsir Lilith's first love, Violet telling Tairn he's the gift of her life, that even Halden knew that the true barrier to her would be the dragon bond - and especially that when Xaden channeled again, in a way that he knew would irreversibly damn him, he did it for Sgaeyl. To keep her safe, because she chose him before and above everyone else.

I adored the Riorgail of it all. They were open and honest with each other, saying I love you practically every other breath, declaring their loyalty and devotion to each other in front of anyone who would listen. I loved that we got them as a team, facing stuff together and trusting that what they couldn't the other could handle it.

On the other hand, it may just be me but they didn't quite feel like themselves. Maybe because it was the first time we've truly seen them be public about their feelings, but they didn't feel like the same Xaden and Violet from the previous two books. Xaden felt so intense that everything he said gave me anxiety, devoted to the point of obsession. I would actually call Violet morally gray here, but it came out of nowhere; there wasn't a great transition into that change in her character, none of the hesitation or guilt I'd expect.

In short, they kind of felt like my Xaden and Violet and not canon? I loved them, but I'm not sure it matches what we know of them from FW and IF and the change in character didn't feel entirely smooth.

But Xaden IS her sword!!!!

The worldbuilding was ridiculous. Violet was dropping facts left right and center like the details of the aristocracy and politics at play were common knowledge - and maybe they are in world, but if they're that obvious then I feel like those details should've been worked into earlier books. I felt like I was floundering trying to keep up with all the new names and titles and roles.

In the same vein, the lore about magic made no sense. So only the Continent has magic but why? Was it drained from other places? Does it only occur naturally in certain areas? Dragons don't have magic that exists within them - they also draw from the source which? Hello hypocrites much? That was another thing that was said so casually, but that should've been one of those things we learned in Fourth Wing, at Threshing or right after.

There was too much happening with the plot to the point that I lost it completely. The trips to the isles were overwhelming. I know the venin and the irids were tied together, but those two things competed so much that I kept forgetting about whichever one we weren't talking about. Literally just. . . forgot about the venin there for a bit in the middle. We were looking for a cure but we were looking for Andarna's kind but we were trying to stop the venin and we were also gathering allies and making trade deals and none of those points were fleshed out completely.

The ending was vague and confusing in a way that made me frustrated instead of interested or anticipatory. I read the last two chapters three times and I still don't know what the fuck was going on there. So the Sage is. . . Fen? Is Garrick the one who also turned? Bodhi? Brennan? Ridoc? Fuck if I know. I understand the point of the marriage, to give Violet control over Tyrrendor legally, but I'm also pissed at the way it happened.

I know we don't want anyone to actually die, but I literally didn't even flinch when Mira's throat got cut open because I figured she'd be fine. There were no important deaths. Trager and Quinn didn't hit that hard. Not putting any of the main characters in significant danger makes the stakes feel lower than they should.

The fan service made me roll my eyes. I get it to a certain extent, but there were several times when I legitimately kind of felt like RY had been in fandom spaces or someone on her team was just feeding her popular theories to include.

The marked ones having second signets was. . . not my favorite choice, because logistically it doesn't make much sense. We should statistically see at least one of them go mad from the power instead of developing a second signet. And I actually think if that had been included it would have been more interesting! I'd like to see the reality of the risks that were taken to make the rebellion happen, but instead they just got really really lucky a bunch of times?

The use of the word Riorgail in print sent me to the fucking moon. No.

Violet's second signet. . . I don't want to talk about it.

Actually no I do. Since when are signets based on situational need and not who a person is at their core? Was that not what we were told previously? Am I tripping? I don't mind the power itself but I am confused.

Professor Riorson had me on the ground laughing. What the hell was that. There are enough barriers to their relationship, and that one felt too forced (but great fodder for smutty fic).

The characters and their relationships are the standout of the book and the series. I already said I loved Xaden and Violet here, but I also loved their friendships and how real especially the relationship with Brennan and Mira and Violet felt. The humor and the quips and the squad's constant support of each other was wonderful.

I'm holding onto those Sloane and Dain crumbs like a teddy bear you all have no idea. I love them.

Aaric being the one with precognition I didn't see coming, but I surprisingly liked it! I loved him stepping more into his role as prince and seeing how cunning and smart he really is.

Halden was unnecessary but I live for possessive and jealous Xaden.

Overall I think the pacing was crammed and the worldbuilding left me with more questions than answers, but did I still like it? Yes! I don't think it's my favorite in the series but it still was an enjoyable read. I'll want to read it again at some point I think, but not immediately!

[samuraionyourmom]

Now that the first chapter of the Stormbringer manga has released, I'd like to take a moment to analyze a previous headcanon with the new context the new manga has given us and perhaps put it into a different perspective than just Dazai being a stinky bastard man.

So, you all know about the headcanon of Dazai sneaking into Chuuya's apartment and using/wasting all of his fancy hair products. You know it, you love it. But let's take a closer look at it, specifically regarding the context this page gives us:

In this panel alone, it becomes very clear to us that Chuuya truly has no sense of self. If you thought Dazai's shipping container was bad, this ain't exactly any better. This isn't a home. It's barely a living space. It's a place of residence at best. It has a bed, a small desk, and a vault with a shower and rows and rows of pristine black suits. There's absolutely nothing in this place that would tell you that a 16 year-old boy lives here.

Because Chuuya has no idea what a 16 year-old boy does. He doesn't know who he's supposed to be or what he's supposed to like or how to decorate his space with his own personality. Because he doesn't know what that personality is.

This is the overarching theme of Stormbringer in which Chuuya is trying to figure out who he exactly is, whether that's a human or a clone or whatever. If you haven't read it already, I highly recommend it if you like Chuuya even a little bit, especially now that the manga is releasing.

Now, back to the headcanon. Say Chuuya does have some fancy hair products in that little vault shower of his. I mean, it is perfectly reasonable to assume he would be expected to look presentable while he manages the jewel trading business, the part of the Port Mafia he had been put in charge of. He wouldn't want to embarrass the Port Mafia, after all. I wouldn't put it past him to have such products in his possession because he feels he's expected to look good for the sake of the mafia's reputation.

But that's the thing. It's all about expectations. Chuuya, as a person, doesn't really care about his appearance because he hasn't had a chance to be himself yet. He was found by the Sheep at around 8 years old when he didn't even know what bread was. Ever since then, he was expected to be their leader and guard dog. But when he joined the Port Mafia, he had a new set of expectations, ones he's still adjusting to.

Chuuya, up to this point, hasn't a chance to be himself. He doesn't know what kind of fashion he likes or how he likes to style his hair. People keep pushing their expectations onto him, and he feels like the only option he has is to try his best to comply with them in order to not be alone. Check out his character song, "Darkness My Sorrow," for this reason.

So, Chuuya may have some fancy hair products that he keeps not because he personally enjoys hair care, but in an attempt to try to meet the expectations set up for him by being in the Port Mafia.

And then Dazai sneaks into this sad excuse of a living situation (not that he can talk) and wastes them. And Chuuya is pissed. He assumes that it's just Dazai trying to set him up for failure or trying to get him to embarrass himself in some way.

But here's the thing. The hair products' existence in his space is solely because of the expectations put upon him. They're not a part of Chuuya as a person. But his anger towards Dazai is. The emotions Chuuya feels are something that is a part of him innately. Something he can look towards as evidence of his personhood, as silly as it is.

This infuriating little habit that Dazai has is a way to prove Chuuya's humanity. To show that he doesn't need to be so concerned with the expectations of others and that he can focus on himself, whoever that may be. He can focus on being the Chuuya that Dazai hates so much instead of yielding to the will of others.

This is similar to the way Dazai manipulates the situation to get the Sheep turn on Chuuya. It's his way of showing that these people never considered Chuuya their family, and they eventually would have turned on him if push came to shove. It's weird and manipulative and convoluted, but that's Dazai for you. He is incapable of showing care in a normal way, apparently.

So, I view this headcanon in a new light. Dazai is always certain of Chuuya's humanity and personhood, even when Chuuya himself is not. He shows that in incredibly frustrating and confusing ways, like stealing and wasting the soap that is a representation of the expectations that are crushing Chuuya and his sense of self under its weight. Chuuya's anger, his threats of violence against Dazai for his petty heist, those are all Chuuya. They are his own thoughts and feelings, and no one can take that from him.

In conclusion, Chuuya needs to learn that he can be who he wants and be given the time to figure out who he is, and Dazai needs to learn how to flirt like a normal person instead of doing... whatever he's attempting to do right now.