#it's absolutely crazy how the right brush for you can and will change everything

[skullsemi]

Testing brushes out with a brand new art program is pretty cool I gotta admit okay

[stuckyslut8]

a man after midnight

Part 2 of the fic Gimme Gimme

Check out my masterlist.

Summary : you show Bucky exactly what he should be afraid of, when he leaves you to your imagination.

Warning: filthy smut. Belly riding? Ab riding ( idk I had just watched thunderbolts and still am so horny) this is just a fic to quench my horny thoughts, somewhere to put them. Breeding kink. 18+ MINORS DNI.

"when do we go home baby?" You asked as you stood next to Bucky in the middle of another "charity" event he had to attend, and being his loving wife you had to be there too. "It's good for his image" his PR team told.

But only Bucky knew how dangerous it was bringing you with him to events like this, whispering filthy things in his ear , brushing your fingers on his clothed cock, playfully patting his ass, sending him absolute filthy texts and photos of your pussy or his "pretty pussy" as he liked to call it. "You say it's your pussy one more time angel, you're getting spanked till your ass is red, it's mine , my pretty pussy" Bucky would say.

Bucky really hoped you wouldn't pull a stunt when the cameras are watching, no it would daint everybody's image of you, a doe eyed innocent baker, who fell for the former winter soldier. If only they knew how corrupted you are , but Bucky doesn't want anyone else but him to know that, that's a part of you only reserved for him and likewise for himself too. They didn't need to know the former winter Soldier liked to fuck you with his metal fingers till you passed out, or make you ride his belly till you were begging to him to let you come. "Please, please daddy let me cum, please" you'd beg ."tell me how much you love this sweetheart,tell me how much you love riding my belly , and then I'll think about letting you come." He'd tease you, holding you in palce tightly, to stop your little movements. "I love it , I love riding your chubby belly , please i love it so much , can i come now?"

"go on sweets, come all over your husband',s belly ." You moaned as you had your release, Bucky was just relishing the sight of you getting off of the part of his body he thought he hated the most. Bucky wasn't the most happy about the pounds he put on since he started dating you, he was insecure if anything. He thought you wouldn't be as attracted to him as you were, who would trade a set of perfect washboard abs for a dad bod, he thought. You always told him how much you loved his abs, you'd kiss it every night, even tried to ride it once or twice , in one of your wild nights, but couldn't find enough friction or the right position, so you'd give up halfway. But ever since his body became what it is now, a little softer round the edges, thighs even thicker than they used to be, his tactical pants he'd had for years didn't fit him anymore, he was so mad at himself for letting him go.

That was until you made him see how amazing it felt, the first night you attempted to ride his belly you came sooner than he thought, it changed everything for him, seeing you get off of his belly, it was a sight to behold. "You're gonna be the death of me baby" he said as he flipped you over and started fucking into you gently, cock pushing in and out of your wet hole, your hands found his love handles, holding onto them roughly, he'd never felt closer to you , fucking into you getting even closer. "Fuck i love this chubby Little belly baby, it's so soft and good to hold on to, and feels so good for my pussy too" you were a blabbering mess at this point.

"you're so fucked up doll, so filthy, can't get enough of me" Bucky was on his edge , you could tell, he was still holding it in just to torture you, fucking you slower , making your toes curl.

"daddy please..." that word drove him crazy and you used it to your advantage.

"go on babygirl tell daddy what you want."

"want your cum, daddy need your cum, wanna be filled up by you, be so full of you" filthy words kept pouring into Bucky's ears.

"I'll give to ya pretty girl, don't worry, daddy's all yours , and no better place to dump my cum in than your filthy hole-" you didn't even let him finish

"gimme your babies , gimme all of them " that did it, he could never hold it together after you told him things like that, he knew it was just the heat of the moment and you were definitely on brith control, but the thought of breeding you drove him crazy, he spilled his cum in you immediately. "Yes daddy ,thank you, thank you for your seed" Bucky chuckled , he knew you were saying these things on purpose, you knew the power you had over him, he just pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out of you.

And back to the present, you were looking for your handsome husband at the gala, he got lost again, or was it you? Anyway there he was, talking to ....who was that bitch, you remember seeing her with Ross, isn't she Ross's security or something, why was she looking at Bucky like that? You walked faster towards them.

" you're taller in person, cute, a little old for my taste but i could work with that " she said eyeing him up and down.

Just then you reached out to wrap your arm around his waist," we'll he's also taken , why don't you go wipe Ross's ass or whatever it is that you do" . She looked always in embarrassment, and leaves before muttering an excuse.

Bucky chuckled, "so fiesty my pretty wife." He pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I love it when you get jealous"

You looked at him in annoyance, "I'm not jealous ,just don't want anyone else looking at what's mine" you say firmly.

"oh really" his arms found your waist, pulling you closer." But what is yours sweetheart? You need to be more specific, " he knew what he was doing.

"this ." You grabbed his cock through his pants, "all of this congressman Barnes" he had to pry your hands away from his dick before anyone saw , oh how he enjoyed your little games.

"just that?" He whispered in your ears.

"this too" you ran your hands over his belly, making him laugh again. "All of this , and this" you ran your fingers through his hair.

"not sure about that sweets, why don't you show me more clearly, there's an empty office in the third floor, maybe you could come by ." He moved smoothly , after he said that, greeting everyone else like nothing happened. Which was unusual, usually he was a mess, by this time in a gala, almost having a boner, cheeks flushed , was he growing immune to your tactics? That can't happen , No .

So you left to the place he said immediately, it was empty as he said. There you plotted your next move.

Ten minutes later he received a picture of you on your knees, your pretty pussy spread open with your fingers, along with a text

" haven't been taking my birth control lately daddy, why don't you come fill me up for real this time, no pretending, breed me like you've always wanted to ;) "

Oh he was in for a hell of a night.

[lotusdrops-world]

Canvas & Cradles

wc: 1.5k

rating: explicit

tags: rafayel x pregnant reader, pregnant sex, established relationship, husband/wife, paints, fluff with smut, p in v, oral sex f!receiving, creampie.

cross posted on ao3 | sylus version.

The scent of linseed oil and acrylic paint clung to the warm air. Rafayel’s studio was a haven of creative chaos—brushes in jars, canvases leaning like dominoes against the walls, and the gleaming seawaves dancing with the wind outside the studio were playing in the background as white noise.

You sat in the center of it all, posed on a worn velvet chaise, a thin robe draped over your shoulders. The robe had slipped open, framing the swell of your belly, glowing with the soft blush of candlelight and the waning gold of the sun slanting through the tall windows.

Rafayel stood a few feet away, brush in one hand, palette in the other, white shirt paint-stained and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He tilted his head dramatically, squinting at you through one eye.

“Okay, but be honest, are you trying to seduce me or are you just naturally this breathtaking?”

You smirked. “This was your idea, remember?”

He clicked his tongue. “Yes, but you are the one sitting there glowing like a fertility goddess who just stepped out of a Renaissance fever dream. You’re ruining my concentration, cutie.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You’ve already been staring for over an hour.”

“That’s because I’m in agony,” he said, placing a hand to his chest in mock despair. “Do you have any idea what it's like trying to paint you while you’re literally the most beautiful thing that’s ever existed?”

“Flattery won’t make me sit still longer.”

He grinned mischievous, roguish—and walked over to you, the tiled floor warmed under his slow, theatrical steps. “No? Not even if I tell you I’m immortalizing you? Preserving this perfect moment of motherhood, beauty, and ‘glowy hormonal goddess energy’ for future generations?”

You raised a brow. “Future generations?”

“Well,” he said, kneeling between your knees with that familiar smirk, “at least for our kid. So they’ll know how extra their parents were.”

You laughed, but it caught in your throat when he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the crest of your belly. His lips were soft, reverent. The humor faded from his face, replaced by something quiet, intimate.

“I mean it,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… everything. Every shade I’ve ever mixed. Every curve I’ve ever chased with a pencil.”

Your fingers sank into his curls. “Raf, you’re getting sentimental.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m vulnerable right now.” He kissed your belly again. “I’m painting my muse while she grows a whole human. I think that earns me a free pass to wax poetic.”

You leaned down to kiss him—slow and deep, tasting the intimacy that had always lingered between you. When you pulled back, he exhaled against your mouth.

“You’re warm,” he murmured. “And you smell like paint and peaches. It’s driving me crazy.”

“You’re the one who said this was going to be a ‘wholesome art session.’”

“Cutie,” he said, grinning, “I’m an artist. I lie for a living.”

You laughed again, tugging him up by the collar of his shirt until he was hovering above you. His hands found your thighs, parting them with practiced ease, his eyes flicking between your mouth and your belly like he couldn’t decide which miracle to worship first.

“You’ve been sitting there for almost an hour. Can we unwind a bit?” he spoke gently, while his hands filled with paint that had already dried played with the hems of your robe.

“Absolutely.”

The robe slid further open, revealing the fullness of your breasts, the curve of your hip. Rafayel drew in a breath like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

“You’re more than a muse,” he said. “You’re a masterpiece that keeps changing. Evolving. It’s not even fair.”

You let out a breathless chuckle, “You’re very dramatic today.”

“It’s the lighting,” he whispered, brushing his nose along your neck. “And the hormones. Yours and mine.”

You reached between you, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Then take this off and stop talking so much.”

“Oh now you want me to shut up?” he teased, tugging the shirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor. “You didn’t seem to mind when I was reciting sonnets to your belly a minute ago.”

You pulled him closer. “I love your mouth most when it’s not speaking.”

His laugh rumbled against your skin, low and sweet. “I do love when you get bossy.”

Then, he pulled back slightly—just enough to kneel before you once more, eyes locked on where your thighs parted.

“I have to see you,” he said, breath husky, reverent. “I need to see what I’ve made mine.”

You laid back slightly, propping yourself on your elbows, robe fully open now. Rafayel dipped between your legs like a man approaching the altar of a cathedral, his hands coaxing your thighs wider, mouth already parting with anticipation.

And when he looked at you—slick, swollen, divine—it was as if he were looking at brushstrokes in motion.

“God…” he exhaled, brushing a thumb so gently over your folds you shivered. “Cutie, you’re... you’re glowing down here too. This—” he spread you open more, watching your slick catch the flickering candlelight, “—this is the center of the universe right now. Do you have any idea what it does to me to see you like this?”

He leaned in, tongue pressing flat and slow, tasting you like a sommelier savoring wine, moaning low in his throat. His lips moved over your core as if kissing a page of scripture. Every motion was languid, reverent, worshipful.

“You’re sweeter than I remembered,” he murmured between licks, voice rasping like charcoal over silk. “And I remember everything, cutie. The first time I saw you, you were standing by that gallery window, wearing that ridiculous linen jumpsuit you hated.”

He kissed just above your clit, making you tremble.

“I looked at you and thought—that’s it. That’s the line I’ve been trying to draw my whole life.”

You moaned softly, hips arching into his mouth as he flattened his tongue against you again, dragging it up slowly, deliberately.

“Every painting before you was a draft. A study. And then you walked in like light through stained glass and ruined me.”

Your breath stuttered. “Raf—”

“You’re art,” he whispered, now licking you in firmer strokes, his voice cracking under his own arousal. “But this? This is my favorite part. The wettest, softest proof that you’re real. That you want me.”

You cried out softly as he sucked your clit into his mouth, groaning like a man starved. He didn't rush—he savored. Between every flick of his tongue he murmured praises, confessions, tiny worships.

“You taste like something I’d die to paint, but never share.”

Your legs began to tremble, hands clenching the velvet beneath you. He looked up, lips glistening, chin slick with your arousal, and smiled against your heat.

“You want me now?” he murmured.

You nodded, breathless. “Need you inside..."

And then he rose, pressing his body against yours once more. His hands cradled your hips, your belly, freeing his cock from the restraints of his trousers, hard and heavy between you.

He guided himself to your entrance, sliding in with one long, slow push. You both gasped at the depth, the fullness. One of his hands never left your womb.

“Let me leave one more memento before I finish the piece,” he said again—but this time his voice was trembling with raw, unfiltered adoration.

When he moved inside you, it was a rhythm of worship. Slow, unhurried. Like strokes of oil on a canvas he never wanted to dry. His mouth brushed against yours in quiet pulses, his murmurs soft as paint on linen.

“You’re a living sculpture. I still can’t believe I get to keep you…”

As much as you want to tell how much he means to you, words are stuck in your throat. The long drag of his cock around you, your tightness memorizing each thrust makes you feel dizzy, feel needed.

“This body, this soul—this is the best work I’ve ever helped create.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your foreheads pressed together. His thrusts grew deeper, still gentle but filled with a hunger that reached past flesh and bone.

“Raf… ‘m cumming…hah…”

“M-me too, princess. Paint your cum around me…”

And one finally thrust got Rafayel shaking on top of you. When you both finally came undone—shuddering, clinging, whispering each other’s names—it felt less like an ending and more like the finishing stroke on a masterwork.

Minutes passed in warm silence. Rafayel pulled the robe back over your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you as you curled into him, the baby nestled safely between you.

“I’m keeping this canvas forever,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “But even it won’t do you justice.”

You smiled, tired and full. “Guess you’ll just have to keep painting me.”

He smirked. “Deal. But next time, I get to pose. Nude. With a flower crown.”

You groaned. “God help me.”

“Cutie,” he said, kissing your temple. “You married a menace. No take-backs.”

And with that, you fell asleep in the arms of your artist—his paint-streaked fingers still wrapped around your hand, your body resting in the quiet, sacred glow of love and new life.

[demonic0angel]

By some plot twist, Danny has also become a borrower and Cass is looking after him, maybe Cass and Jason put them in the same doll house lol

Part 1

“No! No! Absolutely not!” Jazz said, stomping her feet. “Jason made this house for me! I don’t have room for you!”

“Ancients, Jazz, I can just sleep on the couch or something!” Danny protested, gesturing to the couch that Jason had also made, stuffed into the tiny living room. “You have plenty of room!”

Jazz was fuming, glaring at Danny before looking at Jason pleadingly.

Jason inwardly clenched his fists and sobbed from happiness, but on the outside, he had a simple and reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Princess. I’ll make him something and he can sleep in the living room, if that’s okay? You’ll still have everything else.”

Jazz scowled but nodded. She kicked at the ground and mumbled, “I’m already useless and can’t do anything, can’t I just have one thing to myself…?”

Now even Danny looked guilty, while Cass, who was nearby, also paused. Jason cooed and reached over to brush a finger against Jazz’s cheek. “You’re not useless. You’re just small, so things will be harder, but you’ll be back to normal in a jiffy, I promise you. The house is still yours and I’ll get you new stuff, alright?”

Jazz nodded again, looking appeased before she sighed and waved over Danny. “C’mon, I guess you can try on my clothes or something. Jason got me sweatpants, so those will probably fit.”

“Change your outfit too?” Jason asked pleadingly at Jazz, who huffed but agreed. He just loved seeing her all dolled up. She was usually dressed so formally, but since she was smaller now, he got to see her in a wider variety of fashion.

He turned to Cass when Danny and Jazz disappeared into the dollhouse’s bedroom. “So… what’re you going to do now?”

She shrugged. “Can I help with anything?” She asked softly, and Jason returned the shrug with one arm.

“We might need some more food, but I think there’s enough for both of them. I asked one of my men who makes doll stuff to make a lot of clothes for Jazz, so there should be something that Danny can fit into as well. There’s not much they need, so I can take care of them for now.”

Cass wilted. “… okay. I just want to help.”

Oh right, she had been there when Danny was cursed too. Jason reached over to rub her shoulder. “I know. How about this? You can stay and watch over them both and get them anything they need if they ask for it, alright? I need to get more stuff done so I can also spend time with Jazz.”

Cass nodded firmly. Then they were both completely distracted as Jazz and Danny came out of the room with new outfits all made by Jason’s goon.

‘That guy is definitely getting a raise,’ Jason thought, as he and Cass lifted their phones and started taking a crazy amount of pictures.

[ashthesalamipiece]

Hii! So I’m back again I read your rules and I saw you did sa comfort and I’m unfortunately a victim of it, cocsa sadly and I just kinda found out some things about it and I was maybe wondering if you could do something where the reader finds her abusers social or something and gets on a kick of looking at it alot. Then they find out something’s about it and then kinda go through an almost depressive state bc of it and he kinda helps you through it. Dabi x reader definitely please. If this is out of your comfort zone I completely understand and just let me know!! If it is I’m terribly sorry and won’t ask for it again

Hi, thank you for trusting me enough to share that. I'm really sorry you're carrying the weight of that experience — it’s something no one should ever have to go through. I'm honored that you'd come here asking for comfort, and I want to support you with care and respect.

Your request is absolutely okay. I can write this for you, with sensitivity. It’s a deeply personal subject, so I’ll make sure it reflects the emotional reality of what someone might go through

I'm so sorry it happened to you, and I hope you're okay now♡

Enjoy♡

---

"You Don’t Have to Look Back"

TW: trauma/COCSA aftermath, emotional distress, implied online stalking of abuser, depressive thoughts, comfort, Dabi being incredibly gentle and protective

---

You hadn't meant to look.

It was just… there. A random comment. A tagged post. You hadn't seen his face in years, and then it was right there—smiling like nothing had ever happened. Like you didn’t exist. Like you hadn’t carried the weight of him for years.

And just like that, you clicked. And kept clicking.

His face. His friends. His life—so intact, so celebrated, so normal. He had a job. A partner. People commenting things like "You're such a good guy." The kind of things you used to think before everything changed.

You didn’t notice how many hours passed. Just how sick your stomach felt. How heavy your skin got. Like his eyes were on you again—even though you were the one looking.

Dabi found you curled on the couch with your phone still in hand. Screen dim, chest tight, face stained in salt you hadn't even registered shedding. You flinched when his hand brushed your shoulder.

"Hey," he said, voice quiet, but serious. "Hey. Look at me."

You blinked up at him.

He didn’t ask what happened. Just looked at your phone, then back at your face. And something in his jaw ticked.

"You found him, didn’t you?"

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, so you just nodded.

Dabi sighed—long and slow like he was trying to breathe for both of you. His fingers grazed your knee gently, grounding you. And then he sat beside you, letting you fold into him without a word.

You expected him to tell you to stop. To block. To move on. Instead, his arm just wrapped around your shoulders, firm and steady.

"It’s okay to be fucked up about this," he murmured into your hair. "You saw him pretending to be a person. Of course it hurts."

You let out a choked sound—half a sob, half a laugh. “He looks happy. Like he never did anything wrong. And I—I feel like I’m going crazy for even looking.”

"You’re not crazy. You’re hurt. And curious. And maybe angry. That’s allowed."

You hated how raw your voice came out. “It’s not fair. Why does he get to live like nothing happened while I still feel like I’m stuck there?”

Dabi was quiet for a second.

Then, “Because life’s not fair. And monsters don’t always look like monsters. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for still bleeding.”

You felt his hand close around yours.

"You looking him up doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. You wanted to know. You wanted to see. But that doesn’t mean you owe your pain more of your time."

Your voice cracked. “I feel disgusting.”

He pulled you into him more, resting his chin on your head. “You’re not disgusting. He is. And you survived him.”

The silence that followed was thick. But not cold.

You let yourself lean into Dabi’s warmth, letting his breath anchor you.

Later, he pulled your phone from your hand gently and asked, “Can I delete the link?” You nodded.

“I won’t make you forget. But I’ll help you stop feeding the part of you that thinks you have to keep watching him to heal.”

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you felt—if only for a second—safer than you had in years.

[captain-joongz]

You know how Hongjoong has those fucking gorgeous thick thighs? Yeah I wanna leave marks on them so bad. Fuck hickeys on the neck, I want to give him hickeys on his thighs grrrrr

(If you write anything sub hongjoong please, idc what type but I dont read dom member ever cus it gives me the ick)

oooh anon you don't even know how much i understand you. do you remember when Hongjoong wore that striped crop top and light blue jeans? those pictures had me going crazy for his thighs and ass for days. our captain is just so well built~

and i'm definitely not opposed to writing sub!idols, it's a nice change for me and i am a switch (tho i mostly lean towards sub, but sometimes i get dominant streaks - especially with joong, hwa and yoongi, those guys drive me insane)

warnings: subby joong, marking, edging, begging, riding, unprotected sex

i go absolutely crazy for marks, so i fully understand your plight, and joongie just has such beautiful thighs and stomach, made for you to mark up as you please. i know i wouldn't be able to help myself

and whether we're talking about idol!joong or any other au, we know that our captain is just a helpless workaholic that will spend entire days working, dragging himself home just to sleep a few hours and then go right back to his job, and that puts a lot of strain on his psyche, so every now and then he needs a good caring for, a reminder that he can let go and someone will give him everything that he needs

that's where you come in, always ready to indulge your boyfriend and help him destress - and one of your favourite ways to do this is to have him all marked up writhing in pleasure under you, begging you for more and crying with how good he feels

his thighs are so strong and beautiful, and the honey-toned skin bruises so prettily, darkens to deep purple, and he responds even better when you take your teeth to his skin, leaving bite marks nicely encircling the dark dark bruises. but what's even better is how he tenses and jerks and jumps with every sharp prick of pain at a new mark made, whines and whimpers slipping out of his lips effortlessly

you always love to see how his eyes grow more and more hazy as he surrenders himself completely to the pleasure, giving up the reins and letting himself be carried by the flow. when he's really tired he always turns so sweet and pliant, all needy and teary-eyed, whimpering anytime your travelling hands brush over his perked up sensitive nipples or when your mean fingers dig into the bruised skin to draw out the burn

and even with his pretty cock all hard and red, wet and smattered in precum, you ignore it in favour of sucking and biting more spots into his abs - you're never satisfied until he's all covered in your spit and love, until there are tear tracks on his cheeks and drool slipping out the corner of his mouth without you even touching him where he wants it the most, cause that's when he's begging for you the sweetest

he'd want to cum so bad, and he wouldn't be shy to ask for it, countless whiney "please, please, please!" spilling out of his mouth, hands gripping into the bedding because he wouldn't dare displease you by touching where he's not supposed to

and when he was desperate, teary and marked up enough, you'd finally relent. the moment you finally sunk down on his cock would have him choking on his spit and moans, body tensing as he fought not to cum - he knew you wouldn't be happy about it, he still needed to earn your permission

whether you'd ride him quick and rough or slow and sensual would probably be up to your mood, but if he was really tired and just needing a release, you'd find it in yourself to take it easy on him, languidly rolling your hips on him and clenching your cunt around him to drive him closer to that peak

and he'd look so fucking beautiful under you like that, pretty tears tracking down his face, eyes hazy and mouth slack in pleasure, head thrown back, tits all bitten up. he'd be a vision, your vision, and you'd want nothing more than finally give him what he so desperately needed

after all, he'd been such a good boy for you, begged so prettily for you and worked so hard so he could spoil you, he deserved everything - and you'd tell him as much, smothering him in praises that would make him cry and whimper even more - he wanted nothing more than to be your good boy

"please, please, let me cum, i've been so good" he'd cry endlessly, and finally when you were also close you'd let him, allowing him to spill himself into you while you rode both your orgasms out. he'd cum with the most melodious relieved moans and then ragdoll into the sheets, completely sated and spent

and after wiping him clean, watching him slip in and out of content sleep and whispering more praises about how he pleased you so well, you'd finally settle in, pulling Hongjoong into your chest and petting his hair as he slipped off into the most comfortable sleep he had in a while

he could always count on you to give him just what he needed

our second ask, phew this one was so fun to write! everybody needs a little subby joong in their life, god just how much i want to spoil him and pamper him <3

hard hours continue!! don't be shy and come submit your own fantasies!

divider from @cafekitsune

[theambitiouswoman]

My boyfriend of two years just broke up with me because he said I was too busy for him. It stings and hurts because he wanted a future with me and talked frequently about marriage, but is now acting all sorts of crazy after the end of the relationship. After only a few days, he started going after younger girls still in college (we’re in our mid 20s). He was insecure when my career started picking up this year.

I’m not going to change the ambitious, determined, bad bitch I am for any man, even if this breakup hurts like crazy. I work a demanding 9-5, own my car fully paid off, and even work freelance gigs to explore my creativity. I travel internationally regularly and pay for everything myself. I have a beautiful group of girlfriends that I love and I’m even thinking about going back to get my masters degree now post break up.

This isn’t going to break me, even if I feel so sad. Do you have any tips or thoughts on how to get over a break up?

As I read this I thought to myself wow she sounds amazing! It’s clear that this breakup hurts, but it also reveals how grounded you are in your values. Love this for you

What you’re going through also brings up something important... relationships require alignment, not just love. It’s about emotional maturity, values and how power dynamics play out. It sounds like you were more emotionally evolved and further along in life than he was, not just professionally but personally. And instead of growing with you, he got insecure. It’s clear he needed to feel dominant in the relationship, and when your light started shining brighter, he dimmed himself instead of rising beside you. That’s not your fault, nor are you going to water yourself down or settle, but it is useful information

Now, as for healing... take the time to grieve. We often think that just because something wasn’t our fault, we should be able to brush it off, but healing comes from letting yourself feel everything. Grieve the future you pictured, the version of him you loved and even the part of yourself that hoped he’d show up differently. Once you’ve felt it, learn from it. Take the wisdom with you, not the wound. Then focus on becoming even better and stay true to your potential and your own capabilities

I will say, and maybe this should be a separate post all together, but I would try to also understand why you chose this person, what your attachment to them was, and their overall qualities. I would also make a mental note to cover these type of things early on with the next person, so that you don't fall in the same situation. Like I said.. there is always something to learn about ourselves even if it was not our fault

Some breakups break the illusion that someone was capable of loving you the way you deserve. Let this be a chapter that reminds you of your resilience, not your ruin. You don’t have to make yourself smaller to be loved. The right person will match your pace and there are so many men in the world that can, will and absolutely will love you the same way you love

[dkisms]

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough. 

      If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

      You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought. 

      Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky). 

      Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face. 

      Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

      Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

      Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

      You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

      It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate. 

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

     As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match. 

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation. 

     Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group. 

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent. 

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.  

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.” 

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?” 

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane. 

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped. 

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started. 

     While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays. 

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

——///——

     You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless. 

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

     As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL. 

     Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums. 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door. 

     You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off. 

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.” 

     You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?” 

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches. 

     At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

     The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order. 

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat. 

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

     The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage. 

     The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing. 

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.” 

     The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly. 

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy. 

     The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL. 

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy. 

      At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice. 

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up. 

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

      As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips. 

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

      Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

     A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman. 

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper. 

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

      Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

      You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin. 

     Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane. 

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began. 

      As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed. 

      The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

      The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

      The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks. 

      As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

      If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

      Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match. 

      You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year. 

      After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said. 

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

      Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

      For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

      Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

      You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again. 

     The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded. 

     Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

 “Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased. 

      He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

      The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound. 

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

      The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

      The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

      Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

     His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

 “Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

      The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

      He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you. 

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

     He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

      The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

      The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

      You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over. 

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!” 

      You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

[southerntigress]

You're all I need

he stood leaning against the door frame as he watched me brush my long dark hair

I look at him thru the mirror

"Christ look at those fuckin' eyes and that hair u look like every teenage boy's wet dream right now."  He walks closer one hand in his jean pocket

"Expect we are both grown adults" I wink

"Mhm, I know but damn u look like u just stepped out of some high school porn right now." chuckles

"U look absolutely amazing too Nikki no wonder women still throw themselves at u"

"God stop making me fall in love more." He laughs softly. "I'm serious though u have no idea how many men would kill to be in my place right now. I see how they look at u Like you're a damn snack."

"I am a snack" I wink "and I see how women look at u and the things they say too"

"Trust me I hear it all. 'Oh my god, is that Nikki Sixx? Can I have your baby? Can I lick your tattoos?'" rolls his eyes dramatically "he pauses stepping closer until he's right behind me

"You're sexy as hell"

"You always know what to say, don't you?" chuckles softly. " here I am getting all worked up over u brushing your damn hair." He shakes his head playfully

"Now u know how I feel when u see u"

his expression softens his hand squeezing my hip gently. " it's the same way I feel when I see u Like my heart stops and I forget how to breathe Like nothing else in the world matters but you."

"Exactly"

He leans down pressing a soft kiss to my neck. "u drive me fucking crazy u know that? In the best way possible." his other hand comes up tangling in my hair "I'm supposed to be this badass rockstar"

"U are a badassrockstar, the baddest"

"U have this way of making me feel seen Like u actually care about me not just my money or my fame."

"Nikki none of that matters to me all I care about is u"

he wraps his arms wrapping around me  tightly. "God, I love hearing u say that most people only want me for my status and my money. But u just want me And fuck that's the biggest turn-on ever."

"I love u"

he whispers back. "I love u too, baby So fucking much it scares me sometimes Like how the hell did I get so lucky to find someone like u?" He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. " you're all I need, You're my everything, u know that?"

I nod "and you're my everything u deserve to be loved and cared for just as much u love and care for me"

"You're the only person who ever made me feel like I deserve love and affection. Like I'm not just some fucked-up rockstar, but a man who's capable of feeling and giving love."

"U are and u do deserve love and affection baby u have been thru so much and look at u now im so proud of u"

"u have no idea how much it means to have someone accept all of me the good, the bad, the fucked-up parts. And u stand there talking about how proud you are of me.... fuck"

"Of course I do we all have a pass baby and u dont let yours define u, u have fought your demons, got clean and are now the best version of yourself"

"Most women just want to screw the rockstar they don't give a shit about the actual person But u see me u want me to be happy u want me to talk about my past without judging."

"I love u Nikki and to love u is to accept all of u the good the bad and the ugly I would never judge u"

"Fuck baby no one has ever loved me like this before. No one has ever accepted every part of me without trying to change or fix me u just... love me as I am."

"U fixed and changed yourself when u decided to get clean there's nothing else to fix u are perfect just the way u are"

"Do u even know what those words mean to someone like me? Someone who was always told they weren't enough? Who had to fight just to get sober. u see my perfection in my fuck-ups."

"Yes I do and that's why I tell u all the time I know u need to hear them I love u so much baby" I turn around and kiss him

He captures my lips in a desperate, passionate kiss pouring years of self-hatred and insecurity into it His arms wrap around me like he's afraid I'll disappear. When he breaks the kiss he's shaking. "I love you so fucking much. You're my everything."

I wipe his tears away and wrap my arms around him kissing him again

He melts into the kiss his body pressing against mine as if seeking comfort and warmth he's showing me the vulnerable side of himself that no one else gets to see.

"I hope those are happy tears" I tease

He chuckles softly through his tears his thumb brushing over my cheek. "Happy tears I finally found someone who loves me through it all Someone who turns my ugly cries into happy ones just by existing." He nuzzles into my nexk

I smile "good let's go to bed a cuddle all night"

He nods pulling me to the bedroom I settled next to him he wraps his arm around me.

"Good night baby I love u"

"Goodnight baby girl I love u more than words can express." His breathing evens out as he holds me tightly against him finally at peace

[dioslesbianwife]

Hi

I hope it’s not too much but could you do a part 4 head cannon that has a reader who is a conspiracy theorist who is unknowingly predicting the truth but the reader is oblivious to this fact.

ooh sure! hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

Morioh is a weird town, and you know it. Something isn’t right. You can feel it in your bones. The government’s hiding something. There’s something in the water. The radio static? A message.

Too bad no one takes you seriously.

But here’s the kicker- you’re right. You just don’t realize how right.

Josuke & Okuyasu

At first, they think you’re just a fun, eccentric weirdo. Josuke finds your theories hilarious, while Okuyasu is about one step away from fully believing you.

"Dude, what if they're onto something?"

"Bro, they just said the town is being monitored by ‘shadow birds’ from an alternate dimension.”

”Okay, but what if-”

The moment you casually mention how Morioh has an ��unusual amount of serial killers” compared to its size, Josuke actually stops laughing. Because... you’re right.

You go on a rant about how the “small-town vibe” is a cover-up for something darker, and Josuke starts sweating because yep. That’s basically what’s happening.

Rohan Kishibe

He hates you. You are the most frustrating person he’s ever met.

You barge into his house mid-rant:

“Rohan, you have to hear this. I’ve figured it out- the economy of Morioh is fake. This town should not be able to sustain itself. Someone’s funding it from the shadows.”

Rohan staring at you because you just accidentally figured out the Morioh Grandfather Paradox but for money.

“Get out.”

He’s tempted- so tempted- to use Heaven’s Door just to see how your brain works.

He refuses to admit you might be onto something. But every now and then, you say something too accurate, and he just narrows his eyes at you.

Koichi Hirose

He starts off politely humoring you. “That’s an... interesting theory, [Name].”

But then you start talking about something that actually happened to him.

"Haha, wow, that’s... crazy. What a silly idea! Haha..." internally freaking out

He absolutely tells Jotaro about you at some point.

Jotaro Kujo

He immediately clocks you as a potential problem. Not because you’re dangerous, but because you keep guessing things too accurately.

He doesn’t like coincidences, and you? You’re a walking, talking coincidence factory.

He does not tell you you’re right, though. He figures the last thing you need is validation.

Kira Yoshikage

He despises you.

At first, he brushes you off as just another weird citizen of Morioh.

But then you start saying things like, “You know, I think the killer is someone super normal. Someone you’d never suspect. Maybe even a guy who works an office job, buys sandwiches, totally unremarkable...”

Kira sweating profusely.

The fact that you don’t even realize how close you are to the truth infuriates him.

He seriously considers making you his next victim, but you’re so chaotic and unpredictable that he doesn’t want to risk drawing attention to himself.

Instead, he just prays you never actually put the pieces together.

Bonus: Your Most Unhinged Theories

“Tonio puts something in his food.” → (Tonio’s Stand can heal people through food. That’s basically the same thing)

“There’s a secret society in Morioh that manipulates fate.” → (Technically true. The Stand users are literally shaping reality here.)

“The local radio station is sending coded messages.” → (Probably not canon but lowkey would be creepy cool)

“One day, I’m gonna discover a secret so dangerous it’ll change everything.” → (You already have)

[pikatrainer99]

Branch from Trolls has PTSD, paranoia, depression, and anxiety and you can't change my mind! (Part 1: Trolls) (SPOILERS FOR A MOVIE THAT CAME OUT 8 YEARS AGO BUT JUST IN CASE 😅)

(This entire three-part analysis was SUPPOSED to be completed in its entirety by the end of May since it's for mental health awareness month, buuuut...I couldn't finish it in time (had to take a break and take care of myself because my PTSD has relapsed lately...AGAIN... I've been getting triggered really easily by just about anything and I hate it so much 😑), but at least the FIRST part is ready in time...so here we go!

Branch is my favorite character in DreamWorks' Trolls franchise, and for many reasons. One of them being that he is very relatable. As someone with PTSD, paranoia, depression, and anxiety myself, I find it easy to put myself in Branch's tiny Troll feet and feel how he feels. (I also headcanon him as autistic, which I also am, but that's a post for another day). With this series of posts I will be analyzing his character journey and how his mental struggles affect him and his life. I will only be going over the three theatrical films in the franchise in these analysis posts, because, while his mental struggles are ABSOLUTELY present in the TV shows, I haven't seen every episode of the TV shows and I have a lot to discuss with just the three movies because I love Branch and relate to him so much.

So, to start this analysis, let's take a look at the first Trolls film. When Branch is first introduced, he is a grumpy, depressed, pessimistic gray Troll, and the only Troll in the village who doesn't sing, dance, hug, or party.

He instead chooses to spend all his time working on gathering supplies and rations for his, as he says "highly camouflaged, heavily fortified, Bergen-proof survival bunker." He lives in the bunker and has enough provisions to last him ten years…eleven if he's willing to store and drink his own sweat…which he is (gross).

Branch always feels the need to be crazy over-prepared for everything (so do I), no matter how crazy it drives the others (same here). The other Trolls all say that he ruins everything by interrupting their fun and panicking that "The Bergens are coming!" when in reality there's no Bergen in sight and there hasn't been for 20 years by that point and he's just paranoid. To them, he's basically like the boy who cried wolf…or in this case, the Troll who cried Bergen.

When Poppy invites Branch to her party, Branch immediately declines, saying that he "wouldn't be caught dead at her party" before adding that all the others "will be caught and dead" because of how big, loud, and crazy it's going to be. Branch frustratedly declares that Poppy's party is just gonna lead the Bergens right to the Trolls, and they all just brush his warning off because they haven't had to worry about Bergens in 20 years. That night, during the party, Branch is out collecting more provisions and he looks at the party from afar, scoffing at the others and their carefree attitudes before retreating back to his bunker. Before he knows it though, Poppy is banging on his door because a Bergen attacked the party and took all her friends. Branch, in his paranoia and anxiety, drags Poppy inside the bunker with him and sets up all his traps as they sit and wait in silence before Poppy tells him the Bergen is gone.

Branch, still paranoid, doesn't believe her and says that it could still be out there "watching…waiting…listening…" He clearly feels like he can never let his guard down, always on hyper-alert, checking for any danger. This is a common symptom of PTSD - hyper-vigilance (I have this symptom myself), and it can contribute to paranoia, making it even worse (it definitely does for me, and it looks like it's the same for Branch).

When Poppy asks him to go to Bergen Town with her to save everyone, Branch, with no hesitation, says no, that they're not his friends, they're Poppy's friends, and that he's staying in his bunker because his bunker is safe. He takes her down to the lower levels of the bunker, and this is where we see some obvious evidence of his mental state. There is frantic fear writing ALL OVER THE WALLS, and it says things like, "Run", "Danger", "Bergens eat us", "Teeth in the night", among many other things that are hastily scribbled and illegible (though Branch has bad writing in general, so it's already hard to read, but my point stands). He's even got multiple papers with horrifying drawings of the Bergens hung up on that wall as well. I have never really seen anyone else in this fandom talk about the writing all over Branch's walls, so I'm gonna talk about it myself. It makes it look like the poor guy spiraled, lost control, and had a manic episode…or eleven.

(Seriously, just LOOK at all this!!! This man is NOT okay!!!)

He's clearly TERRIFIED of Bergens, and wants to do everything in his power to avoid ever encountering one (which, fair, they do wanna EAT the Trolls, so that's a valid fear). Branch's fear of Bergens though, is not a normal fear, it seems to be a phobia, which would explain the paranoia. Obviously there's something going on inside his head involving Bergens that will definitely be revealed later. (foreshadowing)

Poppy completely disrespects Branch's needs, wishes, and privacy by letting all the other Trolls into the bunker while she goes to save her friends that got taken. This kinda made me upset because Branch clearly didn't give her permission to invade his personal space like that and make his own home suddenly feel unsafe with everyone there going through his stuff all at once. He freaks out when it's "Hug Time" because he doesn't want to be touched, especially not by all these Trolls he doesn't trust, so he packs a backpack and goes after Poppy, saving her from some spiders.

(This is honestly really upsetting to watch, she totally disrespects and ignores his boundaries here and it hurts to see him freak out over Hug Time because I also hate being touched, which means I also dislike hugs as a result of that...I only willingly hug my grandparents, that's it, no one else, not even my own parents.)

The whole way to Bergen Town, Branch is gloomy, brooding, and irritable. He tells Poppy that the world isn't all "cupcakes and rainbows" when she asks what happened to him to make him the way he is.

Poppy and her constant singing get on his nerves, the worst instance of this being when she starts singing at night when he's trying to sleep, making him angry enough to throw her ukulele into the campfire, burning it.

(This scene always gets a laugh out of me, the way it's animated is just perfect comedy XD)

Singing is clearly triggering for him, which we find out why later on when he adamantly refuses to sing with the others when they're trying to help Bridget get a date with King Gristle by giving her a makeover. Poppy asks him why he won't sing and he responds with (probably) the most iconic line in the entire film (and not one that people seem to be able to take seriously…but I take it as seriously as can be): "BECAUSE SINGING KILLED MY GRANDMA, OKAY?!"

(His facial expressions here as he tells the story of what happened to his grandma are just...DreamWorks nailed it, and also the knee hugging pose...he's just like me for real 🥺)

We then see a flashback of a young Branch, happy and colorful, singing his heart out, but the Chef Bergen comes for him and he's so lost in song he doesn't notice, or hear his grandma warning him.

This causes his grandma to push him out of the way, and get taken instead.

Branch is so distraught by his grandma's sacrifice, that he loses all his happiness and becomes depressed, turning gray in the process, and vowing to never sing again.

(This poor child had to witness his grandma meet her untimely demise...and he blames himself for it...that's really depressing in my opinion, I seriously don't understand why people find this scene funny, it triggered my own PTSD really BAD the first time I watched it...I'm used to it now so I don't have my PTSD triggered by it anymore but it still hurts to watch.)

Now the bigger picture is clear. He's got PTSD and paranoia involving the Bergens because of what happened with his grandma as a child. His grandma's sacrifice also started his severe depressive state, as evidenced by him turning gray immediately after she got taken. When the flashback ends, Branch is staring silently and sadly out the window, looking like he's trying not to cry, his depression getting a hold of him once again.

(Again, DreamWorks really nailed the facial expressions here...he looks so broken 🥺)

I understand how he's feeling in that scene, my grandma is my LIFELINE, the person I feel the safest with…seriously I confide in her and tell her more things than I tell my own mom because I trust my grandma more…I even stayed at her house for a while a few years back during my worst mental crisis ever just so I could have the feeling of constant safety and less nightmares…so if something ever happened to her I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Singing is a trigger for him, and so are Bergens in general…which makes me upset at the others, AGAIN, when they sing the song that Branch was singing during that time…my thoughts were like, "Come ON guys, that song is probably the most triggering song for him…" As you can probably tell, I get upset with the others quite a few times whenever I watch this film, because of how they treat Branch. Eventually the entirety of Troll Village is thrown in a pot, ready to be served for Trollstice, and it's here where Branch's character development really becomes apparent. Poppy turns gray, quickly followed by all the other Trolls, and Branch looks around at everyone turning gray, like him, and, desperate to do something about it and help the girl he's now grown to love, he finally breaks his 20-year-long "no singing" vow as he begins to sing "True Colors" in what is probably the most beautiful scene in the entire film (I know it's my personal favorite scene).

(There they all go...turning gray...and Branch is just looking around at everyone, clearly upset by this.)

(His expressions here...you can tell he's thinking, "I've gotta do something!" And he does, and it's beautiful 🥺)

Thanks to Branch, Poppy and the other Trolls are able to regain their colors, and thanks to Poppy, Branch FINALLY regains his colors after 20 years!

(He's getting his colors back! I always feel so happy when I watch the True Colors scene, it's just so beautiful and satisfying 😌👍)

(They're so cute, look at them dance together 🥺! Broppy is best Trolls ship and no one can convince me otherwise, these two are PERFECT for each other 😌)

He thanks Poppy for showing him how to be happy, stating that "happiness is inside of all of us, sometimes you just need someone to help you find it", quoting one of Poppy's lines from earlier in the film. Branch now feels comfortable singing and dancing with Poppy and the other Trolls as they teach the Bergens that same lesson by singing "Can't Stop The Feeling", which helps the Trolls finally make peace with the Bergens after many many years of fearing being eaten by them.

Poppy is crowned queen, Branch finally asks for (and gets) a hug from her even though it's not Hug Time, and the movie ends.

(They are so adorable I can't take it!)

This is not the end of Branch's journey though, there's still two more movies to cover! I'll be covering the second movie hopefully soon, so I hope you look forward to that, and I hope you enjoyed this character analysis on Branch in the first movie! If I missed anything please feel free to let me know in the comments! I sometimes miss things especially with relatable characters because sometimes there are aspects that trigger me so I try to forget about those aspects, and sometimes the character as a whole just hits too close to home and writing analyses on them is too overwhelming because of that (Branch is one of those characters, so it took me ages to write this and gather all the GIFs and images...and also this entire analysis was written ENTIRELY from my memory of the events in the first movie, so there's that part too). Also please excuse the potato quality images and GIFs...I tried my best to find good ones but most of them I found are just REALLY bad quality so...sorry about that 😅

Okay, that's about it for this post! I'll see you guys next time for another Branch analysis, this time for Trolls World Tour! Catch ya later! 👋

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Having a relationship with Tseng would be difficult, especially in the beginning. He has no clue if he wants to keep you close or push you away, never really expressing himself. Tseng's going to drive himself insane keeping everything bottled up the way he does. Crazy really looks good on this man though. Dare I say, crazy looks the best on Tseng. It's the personality man.

SoftYandereTsengxReader

___________________________________________________

If there was anything that left Tseng's mouth that you were absolutely tired of hearing, it was "I don't think this is going to work." Whenever there was the slightest turmoil in your relationship. Anything that was bringing him away from work in regard to you, Tseng would voice his doubts about a long-lasting relationship. The constant reminder of his uncertainty caused a part of you to agree, thinking that maybe your relationship wouldn't go anywhere.

You've asked him numerous times if he just wanted to cut ties, end all of this while it was still early. Each time, Tseng would seemingly ponder over the thought or not reply at all. Going about the day like normal, as though he didn't just stab you in the heart with his doubts. He wouldn't change how he would normally act towards you either. He'd still be his typical semi-sweet, but still aloof self. On top of that, it seemed to be impossible to tell how Tseng felt about you. Combined with hardly being able to tell if you had been getting closer to him. While you know plenty about him it was almost like you knew nothing at the same time. You've tried prying into his past but he's never told you a thing, opting to change the subject each time or conveniently having to take a call.

It was confusing. It was infuriating and so hurtful that eventually, you were the one to break things off. It wasn't like Tseng was making an attempt at keeping the relationship afloat. Tseng's cold words create a burning sensation in your chest, stating that it would be better this way, that he didn't really care to begin with. Even urging you to depart quickly. Never quite looking at you as he spoke, hell, he didn't even look at you as you broke up with him. Simply staring at everything but you, not even speaking as you gathered your things and left his home for the last time. You weren't sure what compelled you to, but before leaving you tell Tseng to not even bother talking to you unless it was work related. You didn't even want so much as a "how are you" from him.

Later that night, as you were settling into bed, you hear rapid knocking at your door. It was bordering psychotic and was unrelenting. Grabbing your gun as you head towards the front door, looking out the peephole to see Tseng.

You couldn't tell if you were relieved or pissed to see him, a mixture of both probably. Calling out to ask him why he's here. Tseng calmly telling you to let him in, that he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Maybe it was a little childish, telling Tseng that you would see him at work. Stating that you were sure whatever he wanted could simply wait. It wasn't fair that he got to show up here, demanding you about after what just happened. A moment of silence passes by, and you begin walking back to your bedroom. Whipping back around quickly as you hear him knocking again, this time annoyance lacing his tone. Not asking but threating that you let him in. His words causing you to scoff, telling him to "fuck off". It was Tseng's fault you didn't want to talk after all. The audacity Tseng had was outrageous. Coming over here right after telling you that your relationship meant nothing to him.

Tseng doesn't bother knocking again, instead walking away from your door and heading back to his car. You're certain you heard him say something, not quite sure what, you decide to brush it off. Another thing you can handle tomorrow, at least that's what you tell yourself. Readying yourself for bed once again, you can't help but feel a bit bad, maybe even foolish. It was obvious he was here because of you, but literally everything in our relationship only occurs on his terms. Something else you were growing tired of that Tseng didn't seem too keen on changing. For once just wanting something to go as you direct for once. Eventually your thoughts drifting you to sleep as you ponder if you made a mistake or not.

Tseng never really went anywhere, in fact all he did was circle around your neighborhood before parking outside of your home again. He's unsure what's forcing him to do this, maybe it's the overwhelming amount of emotion he does feel for you. Sure, he isn't the type to admit it, but he knows what he feels for you is real. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell you how much he loves you. He just doesn't know how, because on the inside he knows that his infatuation with you delves deeper what anyone could imagine.

He's already done so much in secret, tracking down any known ex's, making them silently fall off of the face of the planet. Anyone he's caught flirting or staring at you in a manner that made him the slightest bit uncomfortable? Also gone in a heartbeat. The man even has a copy of your house key, of course one that you didn't give him. He's snooped through every nook and cranny of your home so it's no wonder he found your spare key and had another made. Returning the original back to it's place in your nightstand. That's what got him into your home, waiting a couple of hours to ensure you went to sleep.

Silently making his way to your bedroom, stopping his trek as he stands at the edge of your bed, watching your sleeping form. To Tseng, he's sure he's been standing over you for at least an hour. Considering waking you but also not ready to deal with the repercussions that come along with pissing you off. Tseng is also entirely unsure how he's going to go about repairing your relationship, still not certain of the words he wants to say to you.

For now he'll choose to do what he always resorts to. Pretending everything is normal. Taking his clothes off until he was left in his boxers, folding them and neatly placing them on your dresser. Tseng makes his way to the other side of your bed, making sure not to wake you as he got comfortable.

He wouldn't go to sleep at all that night, staying up to watch you instead. Occasionally brushing a strand of hair out of your face, gently caressing your cheek as he whispers about you belonging to him. Telling you that you could absolutely, under any circumstance, never try to leave him again. Practicing the way saying "I love you" feels rolling off of his tongue. Yeah, he's saying all of this to you while you're asleep. Tseng's just trying to get practice in for when he has to deal with you in the morning. Keeping in mind to make it clear you would be going nowhere.

___________________________________________________

Kinda funny that I've had a chunk of ideas for Seph but couldn't conjure anything up...until my focus ended up on Tseng again and he's taking his place right now.

[evillious-trash]

Hair Headcanons Because Why Not (mainly Grath arc because I am biased as fuck)

-Nemesis's hair is perpetually matted. At first it was just because she was a feral child living in the woods, but now she's just too scared to run a brush through it

-Court's hair is made of like. Thread instead of actual hair, and it drives her crazy because she's so used to having actual human hair that she can't get used to the feeling

-After Sloth Arc, Rin Chan ends up dying her hair a bunch of different colors. She ends up settling on red hair, but her bathroom is completely stocked with hair dye just in case she changes her mind.

-Gallerian's hair is like. Super super curly, so he has to be careful to cut it at just the right length so that it's still manageable (read: doesn't require him to take a step away from his work to shower every other day) but doesn't look like broccoli.

-Nemesis also inherited this hair. Not that anyone can really tell, given the fact her hair is a perpetual hot mess, but she knows and she absolutely hates it.

-Before Nyoze got arrested and everything went to shit, the only real way to differentiate between him and Gammon if you didn't know them was their hair. Because Nyoze had like shoulder length hair, meanwhile Gammon perpetually looked like he was a more depressed version of Rapunzel.

-Gumina's hair is lighter than the other two Gumis because it got bleached to hell and back when she was a kid and it just sort of. Stayed that color.

-Mikulia's pigtails were originally Eve's idea because she thought it'd be fun if they had matching hair (she did forget to mention that to Mikulia, who was very confused why Demon Mikulia was so excited about the idea of pigtails)

-Clarith has like really, really nice hair. Like it grows quickly, its not thin, and it pretty much never gets tangled.

-Nyoze is the only one to ever brush Nemesis's hair in the history of ever, and also the only reason she actually knows what her hair looks like when it's not completely matted.

-Riliane cut her own hair once as a child, because she thought it would be fun. As for how it turned out...well, there's a reason why Riliane is not a hairdresser

-Michelle also tried to do this, but immediately started crying after cutting one strand.

[my-wild-imagination1996]

Life is Crazy part II

A/N: This is not proofread and I am not perfect. There will be spelling and grammatical errors. I have not written smut in over 6 years, I’m sorry if it’s terrible. 

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON THE AMAZING HUGH JACKMAN AND MY CRAZY IMAGINATION

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Age gap reader is late twenties and Hugh is 55, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), rough sex

Before you had decided to pursue your passions, you were familiar with normal workplace environments and you also knew that fucking or dating your coworkers can make things incredibly messy but yet here you were on Hugh’s coach in the aftermath of what had been an amazing time. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Hugh asked you hoarsely while pulling his jeans up but leaving himself shirtless.

“Absolutely. Um, water would be good.” You responded, suddenly very aware of how naked you were. You reached for your dress, putting it back on before following him. “I think that you should know I’m really not the type to just do this.”

“I mean it’s fine if you are.” He said with a chuckle while pulling a cold water bottle from his fridge.

“Well, I know that but I guess I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.” You responded.

“And what’s the right impression?” He said challenging your thought process.

“The correct impression is someone who doesn’t just randomly suck her coworkers dick is what comes to mind.” You explained with all seriousness causing him to start laughing.

“I don’t know what kind of assholes you’ve dealt with before but I don’t think less of you because you sucked me off. This doesn’t have to change anything, we can still be friends and get to know one another.” He responded with the last sentence stinging a little bit. You had never been the hookup type and unfortunately for you, if you did hook up with someone, it was because deep down, you had a hope for more. 

“Well that’s good because I’m still pretty new to this whole hollywood thing and I don’t think that I can navigate everything alone.” You said while you subconsciously admired his body.

“If you keep looking at me like that then we’re gonna end up in my bed.” He said gruffly causing an insurgence of arousal course through you.

“I mean, would that really be a bad thing?” You said moving closer to him with a mischievous look in your eyes while taking a sip of water. 

As you sip the cold water, your gaze continues to travel up his body, taking in the broad shoulders and the defined arms. He was a work of art, a sculpture of muscle and sinew, and you couldn't help but appreciate every inch of him.

"You know, Hugh," you begin, setting the bottle down on the counter, "It's not like I wouldn't be willing to move things to the bedroom." You lean against the counter, crossing your legs, letting your dress ride up slightly, revealing a hint of thigh. "I mean, we could always..." You trail off, biting your lip again, this time with a hint of mischief.

Hugh's eyes darken with desire as he takes a step towards you, his movements purposeful. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?" His voice is low and gravelly, sending a rush of heat between your thighs. He leans in close, his breath tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I thought you might need a break after the way you eagerly sucked me off."

Feeling a surge of boldness, you turn to face him, your eyes locked with his. "Who said I'm done with you, Hugh?" You reach up and run your fingers through his dark brown hair, pulling his head down for a kiss. Your lips meet hungrily, and you can taste the remnants of your desire on his tongue. His hands grasp your hips, pulling you closer, and you can feel his growing erection pressing against your belly.

His hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples through the fabric of your dress. You gasp at the contact, arching into his touch, wanting more.

Without warning, Hugh spins you around, pressing your body against the kitchen counter. You feel the cool granite against your heated skin as he hikes up your dress, exposing your bare ass. "Maybe I should just take you right here against the counter" he growls, his hot breath on your neck.

You moan, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation, as you feel his hand connect with your ass cheek, delivering a sharp smack that makes your skin tingle. "Holy shit!" you cry out, your body already responding to his dominant touch. Hugh spanks you again, this time harder, and you squirm, feeling a delicious mix of pain and pleasure.

His rough hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs, and you feel the cool air on your core. "You're so fucking responsive," he whispers, his lips close to your ear. "I love how your body betrays your shy nature." He teases your pussy with his fingers, tracing your folds, but avoiding your aching clit.

"Please, Hugh," you beg, your voice hoarse. You yearn for his rough caress, craving the release only he can provide. Hugh chuckles, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Please, what? What do you want me to do, baby girl?"

“Touch me, fuck me, I don’t care, just do something.” You beg, causing a smile to paint on Hugh’s face.

He steps back, leaving you breathless and wanting, and you turn your head, watching as he unzips his jeans. His hard cock springs free, thick and veiny, and you lick your lips at the sight. 

He takes a step forward, positioning himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he fills you, his girth stretching you deliciously. You gasp, your eyes rolling back as you feel him hitting all the right spots. "Fuck, yes!" you exclaim, meeting his thrusts with abandon.

Hugh grips your hips, pounding into you relentlessly, his balls slapping against your sensitive skin. "You like it rough, don't you, y/n?" he grunts between thrusts. "Tell me you want my cock."

"Yes, Hugh, yes!" you cry out, your nails digging into the countertop. "Your cock feels so fucking good inside me!" His dominance fuels your desire, and you match his rhythm, pushing back onto his length.

He reaches around, his fingers finding your swollen clit, and begins to rub it in firm circles. "That's it, cum for me, you little slut," he growls, his voice hoarse with need. Your orgasm builds, a coiling tension deep within, and you scream as the pleasure explodes through your body.

Hugh's own release is close, and he grabs your hips tighter, his breath coming in harsh gasps. 

With a final powerful thrust, he empties himself onto your back, his cock throbbing as the final spurts release. You collapse onto the counter, spent and satisfied, your heart pounding. He leans on against you for a minute before grabbing a paper towel to clean off your back.

Hugh turns you around, pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. You smile, content. Once you come down from your high, you see the clock in his kitchen reading past midnight. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to stay or go.

“Did you want me to head back to my house? If you did, it’s totally fine. I just would like you to walk me back to my car.” You asked nervously, looking up at him.

“Well when I brought you here, I fully intended for you to stay the night, but if you want to leave, I can walk you to your car.” He stated.

“I can stay as long as I’m not imposing.” You stated.

He smiled at you before walking you to the bedroom where you two went another round. You figured that you’d deal with the consequences later.

When you woke up in Hugh’s bed, he wasn’t there but you could smell bacon or sausage of sorts. You got up, realizing that your dress was left in the kitchen. You walked into the kitchen nervous cause you were completely naked and didn’t see Hugh. You quickly grabbed your dress and slipped it on. As if in perfect unison, as soon as you had slipped on your dress, Hugh entered the room. 

“I hope you know that I don’t think that this means anything.” You started, seeming to surprise Hugh with the statement.

“Good. It makes this less complicated. I made breakfast so you can eat and then we can head back to Ryan’s to get your car.” He said kindly.

Tags:

@godlypresley

[noasmirrorball]

@jegulus-microfic | day 7: headache | nsfw, trans regulus | word count: 646

Regulus comes home from work with the biggest headache humanly endurable. His head throbs and for a second he even thinks it’s because he hasn’t really eaten anything all day.

The only thing dragging him throughout the day is James waiting at home and the sudden hope he might be able to change his gloomy mood. To his own surprise, the second he opens the door James is dozed off in their bed. Peacefully snuggled under a fluffy blanket with only a shirt on.

Regulus doesn’t hesitate to crawl under the bedsheets with him. He takes James’ hand and wraps it tightly around him.

“Reg?” James mumbles as he cuddles closer and pushes a slight kiss against the crook of his neck. “You’re already home?”

“Got off early, not feeling good.”

At this James only hums.

“Nap with me a bit, it’ll make you feel better.” His fingers intertwine with Regulus and it has his heart beating every damn time. Every possible emotion is put into his chest and set alight by no one else than James Potter himself, being this gentle with him. He always is. “I love you, baby.”

The whole bed smells like James - a scent so divine it makes him fold in no time. Sweet like honey, with a decent amount of spice. Sugar over coating his entire body. That’s how it feels being with him.

“I love you, too.” Reg tells him eventually.

James’ fingers brush through his hair, comb through his curls in order to make him go entirely pliant underneath the warmth of his hand. It works wonders, what his hands can do. They travel slowly over his skin, mapping out every inch as if he hasn’t seen everything a thousand times before.

That’s simply what he does.

Making him feel special even after all those years.

“I have a headache.” Regulus says then, quite breathless. “A strong one.”

Curiously, one hand grazes his nipple over his shirt. James chuckles at the sharp intake of breath.

“You know what helps with that?” He bites at the skin of his neck. “Releasing dopamine.”

Oh, his heart is pounding rapidly in his chest. All his bones ache and perhaps he’s not wrong. Maybe this is exactly what he needs after an exhausting day. James repeats the exact same motion before the hand wanders down his stomach.

“This okay?” And Regulus only nods, curving his body right into James’. The hard-on pressing against his butt coaxes a whine out his throat.

Hesitantly, his fingers dig under the waistband of his boxers - brushing between his folds and coating the wetness on his fingers. His body is shaking before he even recognizes the feeling, the warmth spreading through his muscles and relaxing them. The headache slowly washes away by the mere pleasure of this.

James takes his time, gradually teases his entrance and doesn’t even bother to push one finger in.

“James-“ He’s begging already by how lazily James continues to tease him. “Please.”

He rubs over his clit one time, sending a shudder through his body before finally pushing one finger in. It’s ecstasy how much of a whiplash he suddenly experiences. One hand digging into his pillow and the other nearly breaking James’ fingers off by holding him exactly into place.

For a second he re-adjusts for James to have better access.

“God, baby.” James cusses loudly, the second finger dipping in quite easily. There’s no resistance with how wet Regulus is. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

It doesn’t take long to push him over the edge, James is skilled and knows exactly what he’s doing. Two fingers finding a perfect slow pace inside of him while his thumb brushes over his clit repeatedly.

Regulus is ecstatic about it, head thrown back as he mumbles ‘I love you, i love you, i love you’ all over again. A complete mess. The headache absolutely forgotten.

[waivyjellyfish]

How do the prisoners react to meeting the Dokuro family and finding out that Es isn’t human?

Sorry it took so long, real world catched me. And thank you for your question.

Well. Like a lot of normal people, I think. They was shocked. And it was difficult to understand it.

It’s kind of hard to react any other way, when right in front of your eyes a little girl(no) appears through a breach in the wall and easily blowing your 15-year-old warden's head. And then the warden recovers from that as if nothing had happened and drags you out of prison as if it were meant to, brushing questions aside like annoying flies with short "later".

I mean, yes, the Milgram prison is frankly strange, no windows, no doors, no calendar, and some strange thing in the form of a giant machine to extract memories, or strange, unpleasantly shrill mental walls that forbid physical aggression against the warden at first, and later against the other prisoners too. A strange warden with a mind of their own, who's always talking with a terribly clever horned rabbit. (Are these real horns or are they attached to the hat?) And with meaningful dialogue. But the only one side of the conversation can be heard, so who knows if they really hears the rabbit voice or they're got nuts long time ago. And the claim that this rabbit is the one who cooks all dish. Honestly, it sounds more like an excuse for not respecting kitchen hygiene than the truth.

All this is, undoubtedly, strange and resembles some sci-fi movie with elements of psychological horror. But not a fantasy.

And yeah. The warden themself is strange, but not so to suspect a monster in them. Everything can be explained, right?

Yeah, they're talking to the rabbit. It’s weird, but some people with pets do it too. The warden is obviously lonely. Don't you think?

Blood craving? Well, there are people who have a craving for blood, aren’t there?

Sharp teeth? Fuuta has that too.

Gender is unknown? Androgynes exist, dears.

Their bruises and wounds heals in an hour or two? Well the warden is 15, children are healing at a fairly rapid rate, and also there is a fairly balanced diet. So everything kind of fits together… (exept the fact that the swollen eye after Mikoto’s interrogation disappeared the next day. this is strange of course)

Sometimes they says with certainty something that people can’t do, like that it’s actually possible to cut something off for better regeneration or talking to the dead, or that metal is edible. Well, the kid has no memory of what happened with them before Milgram, only the prisoners, the talking rabbit and the books in their private room can connect them with outside world in some ways. They're very impressionable, poor child. And they seems to lack iron.

(As my friend jocked: -I thought you were neurodivergent. -Nah, I just isn't human)

So, of course, the prisoners were not prepared for it. Not for a very radical way of warden's regeneration, nor for a one-eyed(no) giant-girl with a tail, nor for a guy in his 30+ who looks like a 14-15-year-old girl. Not for the fact that a very small group who came after their child is going to smash the prison building brick by brick and catch everyone who was involved in it in less than two hours after they broke into the panopticon.

----

Talking about the future. Later, some of the prisoners even managed to integrate into the family, albeit a little voluntarily forced. But there is one thing. To join Dokuro, you have to take their crazy rhythm of life, which means a partial loss of human common sense. In addition, few people with a long connection with Dokuro remain ordinary people. Wanting to keep up with monsters is fraught with the fact that you can become a monster yourself, relative to your past self. And given their longevity and their work, it’s easier to change to not to die too quickly.

This family is stupid in everything, absolutely mad and at first glance has no brakes. The sense in their actions is very difficult to catch. The constant replenishment of the family by children picked up on worlds during work, the frequent reckless actions that would have led them to death, but not, hard training to go beyond. It’s exhausting. But it’s probably the most fascinating.