#but sometimes it just feels good to get it out

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: omegaverse, omega reader, careless alpha husband, marriage problems, poor communication

♡ GN reader

He’s a little reckless sometimes—not always paying attention to the feelings of those around him, but he means well, you’re sure of that.

He’s just a little high-strung, is all—doesn’t really have the time to think things through.

He’s always been like that—ready for just about anything and everything anyone would throw his way, and just sort of expecting everyone else to be onboard. He’s an Alpha, after all—it’s not in their nature to worry or look back.

All your life, he’s been the leader—all you others could do was chase after him and just hope on your life to keep up. And as an Omega, you were comfortable like that—with having someone to follow. It felt natural to you—safe and good and correct.

But when he started courting you, you admit being a bit skeptical—weren’t sure if it would work the same way, not sure if it even could. Being mates is different, after all. You’re supposed to be in tune with one another, and you weren’t sure if you’d be heard or just end up being bulldozed.

But you figured, since you weren’t too big on making decisions anyway, that you’d just go along with it, and it would be fine. You’d put your trust in him and follow his lead, and maybe that would be enough.

And it was. Everything worked out perfectly—for the most part. You married in the spring and moved into your new house the day after. He’s a good husband and nice man, deserving of the respect he garners, and he’s successful. A true Alpha. Perfect on all fronts.

What more could an Omega ask for?

Well… suppose it wouldn’t hurt if he listened sometimes. Or no, that’s not fair. You’d have to speak up first in order for him to listen. Still, you think… he should be able to tell without you saying anything. 

You don’t even know what you’re complaining about, really… It's not as if he’s done anything overtly bad. You just feel… well, you suppose you just feel a little left out. He’s so dominating in everything he does—you just end up being swept along in the process. He doesn’t ask for your input, nor do you give it. Things just happen the way he wants them to before you’ve even agreed. You don’t even think he recognizes it himself, how he makes decisions you’re supposed to be making together on your behalf.

He bought the house without telling you, for starters. But it was a wedding present and a nice surprise, so you’re not mad about it exactly. But given how big a step it was, it still feels strange to have been on the outside. Then he sprung that vacation on you and even called your boss to schedule your leave—only a month after your honeymoon, no less. Not to mention the wedding itself—how all the arrangements were already done before you’d even sat down with the wedding planner, of whom was his choice. In some ways, or in many ways, you felt as if you were just a part of the decor.

But it’s not as if you aren’t happy—because you are. And it’s not as if you don’t love him—because you do. It’s just well… You know it’s not exactly fair, but you’re beginning to feel a little taken advantage of… as if he doesn’t even care about you or your thoughts and feelings as long as you’re keeping him happy.

But you can’t keep feeling that way without telling him, you decide. You’re sure none of it is his intention. You’ve never taken an interest in decision-making, so why would he think you’d want to? For all his prowess, you can’t exactly expect him to read your mind, either.

So, tonight’s the night you’ll finally say something. You want to be included. If he’s hiring a new maid, you wish to be a part of it. If he’s buying a new TV, you want to help pick out which one. If he’s taking you out to dinner, you want to be informed, preferably beforehand. Even if all he’s doing is getting his hair cut, you want him to tell you about it.

“Hello, welcome home,” you greet once he staggers into the bedroom, looking tired yet no less neatly put together than always.

“Hello, my sweet,” he mirrors, voice gruff with the toils of the day as he marches over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

It’s late. You’ve already gotten dressed for bed, having been just about ready to cut your losses and postpone the talk for tomorrow.

He could have told you he was working after hours. No, he should have.

You were just about to switch off the night lamp and go to sleep—but find yourself feeling redetermined now.

This was just another one of those things you can bring up as an example, after all.

“I-”

“God, I missed you today. Felt like work took an eternity,” he groans, hurriedly removing his suit with sloppy movements, throwing his jacket on the floor, shirt quickly following before he’s back on you. “Give me those pretty lips—I’m starving.”

He takes your mouth with his, one hand steadying him against the bedframe while the other works on unbuckling his belt, hunching over where you lay.

You put your hands on his bare chest to distance him, asking, “Can it wait a bit?”

He drops his pants on the floor and climbs on top of you, face buried in your neck while muttering, “No, not really. Been waiting all day.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something-” you try again, to no use.

“No talking tonight—none, except pillow talk.”

He says it with a smile. You feel it against your neck—his teeth and tongue and the heat of his voice.

You’re sure he means it playfully, and yet you freeze, feeling a little sick.

“But I really need to—”

“Omegas are supposed to obey their Alphas, you know.” 

His touch isn’t rough, but it’s not without force, but more than that it’s those words that make your heart jump and then stutter. 

You hold your breath, but it goes unnoticed by him or maybe ignored—you’re not sure which. It shocks you—scares you even, but then, following the original freight, your heart sinks, and you feel nothing but disheartened and disappointed.

And then, even a little angry.

“Oh…” you mumble, lying still beneath his onslaught. “I guess I thought I was yours ‘cause I wanted to be, but I see now…” Your brows cinch with many feelings between them. “I had it wrong.”

He halts then—struck with a sudden pang of guilt maybe, or perhaps just puzzled by your words. Whatever the case, the former rush he’d been in is gone, and he looks down at you—finally.

“What? What do you mea-”

“No, no, never mind. I was out of line,” you brush him off—harshly, and he blanches, going rigid. “Do what you want—you’re the Alpha, after all—so by all means.”

You turn your head to the side and lie still.

Eyes prickly and throat tight, you push the words out all stiff and hoarse, “I have no right to stop you, and even if I did, it’s not like I could. But who cares, right? Nothing I think matters.”

“Baby, you know that’s not what I mea–” he tries.

“Then what did you mean?” you all but bark, snapping to face him again. But however pointed your glare is, there’s no mistaking the now visible tears brimming in your eyes.

Seeing it, he stiffens even more, undaring to move. Trying to make his voice softer, “Don’t cry.”

But his acts of comfort are far from sufficient.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

Good, you think—it better. He made you uncomfortable when he ignored your wishes, so why shouldn’t you? And ignore him in turn?

“Funny that, isn't it?” you continue. “The only thing I have against you is a pesky few tears. Would you like me to turn around, maybe?” 

You know you’re guilt-tripping him—and you’re not sure why or if it’s the right thing to do, but even so, you couldn’t find it in you to stop either—no, not until you had punished him, for some reason.

“If you hide my face in a pillow, maybe you won’t hear it either–”

“Please stop,” he finally begs, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”

You stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s apologizing for. And though the thought of asking him to clarify strikes you, it doesn’t feel important. Those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.

You sigh then, trying to calm yourself down. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to see me—to listen—I need you to respect me.”

He looks up again, this time with a deeply remorseful expression warping his face. “I do. I’m sorry-”

“Really?” you question. It's a little harsh, you admit, but it's what you need, “Then get off me and go sleep downstairs.”

He’s rigid under your admonishment. Shocked by your claims, yet begrudgingly ashamed by the truth in them. 

You were right. He wasn’t paying attention. And by the looks of it, he hasn’t been paying attention for a while.

 “Okay,” he ends up agreeing.

Sliding off the bed like a shunned dog, he walks back to the door he’d only just come through a moment ago.

Keeping a hand on the doorknob, he looks back—head still bowed.

“Good night.”

You feel a little bad about how it turned out, but you steal yourself. You wanted to be alone right now. In fact, you think it would do you both some good.

“We'll talk tomorrow. Good night.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Xavier

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

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Zayne

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

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Caleb

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

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Sylus

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

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Rafayel

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[pythonmoth]

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder (torture). reader is unreliable, angry and inconsistent. reader is traumatized. military inaccuracies. jealous simon, jealous johnny. bros kissing their mates.

Simon Riley x f!Reader. implied Simon Riley x Soap. implied Simon Riley x f!Reader x Soap.

First | Last | Next

After your talk with Price, and the promise of Gaz bringing you food, you realize there's not much you can do. You can't use your fingers properly, you can't walk, you can't read, you can't even use a phone. It's not like you can concentrate, even if you wanted to. Your mind feels fuzzy and blurry, like you're under water.

Ironic.

Having nothing else to do, your mind goes back to Ghost and Soap. You try to concentrate on the man under the mask, on Johnny's loud laugh when Simon would pin him to the bed so you could tickle him or forcefully shave that disturbing mustache he gets sometimes, or Simon's crude, ridiculous jokes. A smile makes it to your lips when you remember your favorite.

"What do you call a dog with no legs?" you mumble, shaking your head. With a sigh, you look at your hands, the dull pain making your eye twitch. "Doesn't matter. He's not coming either way" you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes. Now that the panic has gone down and now that you know the full story, from Price's mouth at least, you really, really want to forgive them.

Really.

But just thinking of them makes it impossible for you to focus on the good parts; at least not long enough to forget the rest. The soft kisses, the cuddles, the long nights filled with smoke, and drinks, and holding each other in a single bed. All of that, is covered by a thick layer of betrayal and pain. You might understand Price, but the fact that he used your deepest fear against you is something you will never forget nor forgive. Same goes for Ghost and Soap. They don't deserve your forgiveness, and you're aware of that.

Your mind goes back to the day Simon confessed, making your dark thoughts pause for a moment.

All of you were drinking that night and they wanted to play truth or dare. Price had to lick places around the base nobody would dare mention again, Johnny had to wear your bra filled with peanuts for seven rounds —Price thought it would be funny—, and you all had fun making each other kiss. Hands, cheeks, lips, foreheads. If Gaz had to kiss Price's ass, nobody will ever mention it again.

It wasn't so funny, though, when Gaz dared you to kiss Simon. You were dismissive, saying it's funnier when they kiss each other, but then:

"Just say you're a wimp. You're scared you'll like it".

Not even two weeks later, Simon confessed. He wrote a ridiculous poem of your eyes shining like grenades, your hair being as dry as the desert, and your lips tasting like the first sip of water you take right after waking up at night in a mission, rusty but perfect.

It worked, of course.

A soft knock on your door makes you flinch, sudden fear making your heart pound hard. All thoughts and memories leave your mind in a second. You keep silent, staring blankly at the door as it slowly creaks open.

"Hey, it's me. Come in peace. Brought you food".

"Gaz" you cry out, rushing to stand up. It was a bad idea, but you couldn't even focus on that. Gaz' eyes go wide and jumps forward, nearly dropping the food in his haste to catch you when your knees give out, hissing in pain as your feet touch the ground.

"What are you getting up for, you idiot?" Gaz scolds, his arms under your armpits to keep you up, gripping the bag of food between his teeth so he can help you onto the bed. "Dumbass. Come on".

He keeps on grumbling at you for a few moments, setting the food aside after making sure you're comfortable. He tells you something about how he had to fight the lady in the mess hall for it, but you can only stare at him. He looks tired.

"You look like shit" you mumble, interrupting whatever he was talking about. Gaz looks down at you and grips your nose between his fingers, shaking your head slightly.

"Missed you, too. Now, come on, let's eat. I'm starving" he says, not giving you a moment of silence. You know he's trying to take care of you, so you just let him guide you, both of you sitting on the bed. You watch him set the food between the two of you.

He talks about his mission, though you're not sure he actually did all that or if he's bluffing just to make you concentrate on something else. He's halfway done with his food when he realizes you're just listening to him talk and haven't eaten.

"Weren't you hungry?" Gaz questions, his voice a little muffled, his mouth is filled with food. It's terribly disgusting, but it makes you feel warm.

"I guess. I don't know" you sigh, uncomfortable. You stab the food silently, not really in the mood for eating. Just the thought of it being even a little salty makes you want to throw up. And, using a fork feels ridiculously hard, even with all the bandages keeping your fingers safe from pain.

Gaz reaches out to steal a piece of chicken from your plate and takes a bite, munching happily as he starts talking again, mouth full. You don't realize he slowly starts feeding you the bites he steals, filling your mouth and watching you chew.

He's the same as always. Maybe it helps that he doesn't treat you like a victim, or perhaps it is that your tummy is full, because your head lands on his shoulder at some point. Gaz watches you sleep, his yapping coming to a stop as you drool on his uniform. He gently moves the food from the bed, making sure you stay comfortable resting against him.

Deep in sleep, your dreams are haunted by Ghost's mask. It morphs into a smile, laughing at you, haunting you, the teeth opening wide as if to bite your head off. Hundreds of Soap's hands grip you from everywhere, and you scream, and cry, and beg, and Ghost's just laughing at you, Price's voice echoing somewhere in the back of your mind, but you can't make out what he's saying.

You slowly wake up from your nightmare, your head spinning. Gaz' shaking your shoulder slightly, a lazy smile on his lips. "Oi, morning. You slept like a rock for nearly a day, good for you".

Gaz has to trick you so you can eat again, but when he leaves, promising you he'll be back later, your coffee remains untouched. You stare at the cup as the medics come and go, checking your hands and your feet. They tell you it's for the discharge, but you're really uncomfortable as they touch you, as they check on the wounds. You knew they were bad and that it would take at least four to six months for you to walk with the boots again and not feel pain, but when they confirm it, you want to curl in the bed and cry.

When the military psychologist gives you a visit, your sobs just can't stop. Talking about it is even more difficult than experiencing it, you realize. Your mind has locked so many things but you refuse to let them out for now, not wanting to accept anything but the pain they caused you. In any case, the psychologist isn't there to be of help just now. You know it's for the discharge, again, but it's as if they wanted to make sure you're truly crazy traumatized enough for them to send you home.

The exams take three days. Gaz and Price have been visiting you as much as they can, both of them managing to make you smile, or at least distract you. Even Ghost? Simon comes to visit you, with a different mask, and he takes it off as soon as he's inside so you can see his face. He looks as tense as always, but he keeps bringing things he knows you like: a chocolate, sour candy, even some of Johnny's cookies.

"Is he... not visiting?" you question him, your eyes fixed on the sour candy, blinking slowly. In a way, it pisses you off that he doesn't have the balls to come and see you. Again, it's not like you expected—

"Johnny's scared you won't want to see him" Simon answers, his voice gruff and hard, but it's clear he's trying to be gentle. He sounds different without the mask, and that helps your shoulders relax. Not much, though.

"Well, he hasn't come. How is he supposed to know?" you grumble, crushing one of the cookies with the heel of your palm. "I don't want to see you and you're here, anyway".

When you don't hear his response, you look up at him. He looks like he wants to cry, you realize. He's been doing that. Whenever you tell him the truth, he goes silent. Whenever you say you're scared of him, he's silent, whenever you say no, why would I want you to hug me?, he's silent.

You know you're probably being unfair, but how is that your fault, though? You're angry, pissed, and he keeps coming, showing you his face like you're so dumb you can't understand he will still wear the other mask outside, like you're so stupid he can fool you and make you think he never meant to hurt you. Isn't that why he did that, anyway? The only reason you stand him is because Price and Gaz have been telling you he's been mopping around like a fucking pup, and that maybe just letting him sit with you isn't a bad idea. But how's that not a bad idea? It's ridiculous to think—

"Do you want me to leave?" he cuts you off, his tone quiet. Only then, you realize you were speaking out loud.

It makes you falter. You take a moment to genuinely think about it.

"No, I don't" you admit, crumbling another cookie, keeping your eyes down for a moment. The silence is oppressive, exhausting. It keeps you on edge. "Did you believe me when I told you this was over?"

"Yes".

"Good".

On the third day in the clinic, Price tells you you're going home the next morning. It's so relieving to hear that you give him a hug, and then immediately freeze because Simon's in the room, staring at you, no mask. Johnny's right next to him, looking down at his feet and using his index finger to pick on his fingernails. They say nothing, only staring as you let go of Price and turn to Gaz, your shoulders relaxing completely.

Simon and Johnny share a look at your reaction, their jaws clenching hard enough to almost break their teeth, but they both remain silent.

You've grown used to their presence at this point, but as soon as Simon slips the mask back on, you have to look away. Perhaps the fear will always be there, even if you're half convinced he won't hurt you again. After a while, the two decide to leave so you can rest. Price leaves a few minutes later, promising to be there when you leave the next morning. Gaz is the only one who stays with you, as he has the past few days, but instead of him sleeping on the floor you two share the bed.

It's the last day, so why not?

He tells you a bit more about how he got certain scars, about how he plans on visiting you when he can so you can show him your house. You smile, nodding at the idea, just listening to him talk your ears off. It's comforting. You feel like you're in a sleepover with your friend, sharing gossip about other soldiers, and making fun of Price.

Your head is nested against his chest, your arms gently curled between the two of you as he holds you lazily, one of his hands caressing your hair. It's comforting and warm, and slowly, at some point, the idle gossip turns a bit more serious, finally reaching Simon and Johnny.

"You don't have to forgive them. Fuck them. I hope you remember that" he mumbles against your hair. You can hear the anger in his voice, and it makes you feel a little better. "Maybe you'll learn to understand why they had to do it, but that doesn't mean you have to be cool with it".

"And I'm not" you mumble back, shaking your head as you shift, looking up at him. "It's hard to just... look at them and not think of it. It happened like a week ago, anyway, so I can't be blamed. Right?"

"Fuck no. I'd say you give them hell a few months" he says, winking at you and nudging you slightly. It's enough to bring a smile to your face. You shift again, feeling restless, anxious.

"I don't know. I understand, I guess. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in their position, but... I don't want to think about that right now".

"Of course" Gaz hums, his hand gently rubbing on your back. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

It's warm, and it's nice. You melt into him, your eyes blinking lazily as you both lay in silence. Since Gaz has been taking care of you these past few days, you haven't been allowed more than two minutes of silence whenever he's in the room, so you treasure it.

Perhaps is the peace you're feeling, perhaps is the way he's holding you, but you can't help but look up at him. He's lost in his head for a long moment, looking up at the ceiling, before realizing you're staring at him. He raises an eyebrow, playfully poking your back.

"What do you want? Is there something on my face?" he asks, moving so he can look down at you properly, his eyebrows furrowing.

When he shifts, trying to get comfortable again, you surge forward.

It's only a brief, soft press of lips.

Gaz is silent when you pull back, his eyes worried, mostly surprised, but also deeply conflicted. His body is frozen, half lifted from the bed where he was changing his position. You feel shame deep in your stomach. Fear, maybe.

"I'm sorry. I'm really—"

He cuts you off.

It's a soft kiss. There's nothing but calm and affection in it. You're not sure for how long it goes, but it's only when he cradles your face, the kiss slowing down, that you realize you're crying. He hugs you closer, letting you cry into his chest, caressing your hair.

It takes a while for you to calm down, your hot face buried deep in his chest, embarrassed. Ashamed.

"Are you angry?"

"What? No. Why would I be?" Gaz asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"Because I kissed you?"

He hums, his hand never stopping where it's caressing your back. "No. I'm not mad. It was a good kiss." You groan, hitting him on the ribs with your elbow. He laughs, patting your back so you settle against him again. "Nothing bad with kissing your mates".

"Shut up!"

"Fine, fine. Well, look" he starts, shifting to turn the lamp on so he can look at you. "I think you needed that, and maybe I did too. I don't think I'm a replacement, either. Or am I?"

"No!" you shriek, your face heated.

"Then that's fine. Just kissing the mates goodnight".

"Garrick!"

"All I'm saying" Gaz says, grinning down at you and placing a hand on your head, "is that a kiss can just mean that. Did it feel good? It helped?"

You purse your lips, frowning. It did feel nice. It's not like it took away the trauma or anything, but it was nice. Your restlessness isn't there anymore. "Yeah".

"Then that's alright. Don't question it much".

"Should've asked. I'm sorry".

"It's cool. Just don't do it in front of the rest. They wanna kiss their mates, too, but they need alcohol for it".

"What? You'd be embarrassed?"

"No. You would be, though".

"Why? It's not like— ugh!"

Gaz playfully grips your face, not letting you move, and kisses your cheek loudly, making you laugh for the first time since you woke up. He manages to keep your good mood, not letting you dwell on whatever that kiss could've meant. At some point, you hear him snore softly, and decide to settle against him, focusing on his heartbeat.

Your feelings haven't changed for Gaz. You're deeply aware the kiss wasn't romantic. It's like... you're just closer, somehow. With a big sigh, you let your body relax, and fall asleep.

The next morning, it takes you around half an hour to be ready with the medics help. Johnny packed your things, now in the truck, and Simon's wearing the full black mask as he pushes your wheelchair.

Price can't make it, but you're not surprised. Gaz gives you a big hug for him, squishing your face against his chest. Johnny and Simon very carefully help you to the truck, never once touching your bare skin, never once meeting your eyes. You stay very still, but when Simon's hand gently rests on your waist to help you adjust, you look up at him.

"I'm sorry" he says, removing his hand instantly.

"It's alright" you mumble.

You both stay quiet for a moment. Then, Simon nods and slowly takes a step back. "Take care of yourself. I'll... text you?"

"I'll try to text back. Won't promise I will".

That seems to be enough. Simon's eyes warm behind the mask, filled with hope. He gently lifts a hand, his movements predictable and slow. Your shoulders tense a little, but you give him a nod, your eyes on his. He caresses your hair, drinking you in, endulging himself in the permission you give him. In the end, he steps out of the truck.

Johnny's eyes are filled with guilt, and he doesn't touch you, standing right there, just a step away from the door. "Take care, yeah?" he says, his hands gripping the seat in front of you.

"Yeah. Thanks" you mumble, your palms rubbing on your thighs. You feel uncomfortable around him, instead of actually scared. He hasn't tried to talk to you much at all, so it's a little confusing.

Finally, Gaz steps in and your smile becomes genuine.

"I'll see you as soon as I can" he says, his hands gripping your cheeks just to squish them together. "If you don't eat, I'll personally go and shove it down your throat".

"Lovely. Thanks" you grunt. You motion him closer, and press a kiss to his cheek. "That's for you. And tell Price that I'm thankful, all in all".

"No".

"Fuck you, Gaz".

"You wish".

You roll your eyes hard enough for it to hurt, but your smile is warm, content. With another tight hug, you say goodbye, and the engine rings in your ears.

Then, you're off.

so! there's that. no, this isn't gaz x reader, im just heavily projecting and I think he's down to kiss the homies for fun and comfort, like I am.

simon going from simon to simon isn't a typo, she just hates him less. 😋

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird @adventurerabby @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @defronix @clickbait-official (im adding this one very nervously so😭 I'm sorry)

[mewmew-reads]

This is why I annotate the hell out of everything I read. I write the way the book makes me feel, intrusive thoughts, things that irritate me in the moment, basically anything. My life at that very moment is directly reflected into the books I read. I write my definitions on the inner margins and my personal thoughts on the outer margins. I also draw, doodle, tape random shit on all the pages. I'll spend hours reading almost everyday and will still only get through a chapter. 30-50 pages a day is my average.

And don't think I just stick to one book. I have a decent sized library where I hop around based on my mood (and you can bet your ass I record all those feelings as I hop around). Every book I have feels like a direct portal into my soul. Books are meant to be loved and read (in my opinion). Why not embody your entire person into everything you read?

I really do have to post my annotations sometime. It's something I'm really proud of and encourage people to do as well. And yes, I do have a pretty good memory of all the things I've read so far. I have so many memories attached to every beat, it's hard to forget.

When you take the time to put your heart into each story, reading goals don't really matter as much. Instead of showing off how much you've read; you can show off your art, your thoughts, and just you love for the things you read. Even if you drop a book, you still have a whole section in the book of memories of you hating the book and I think that's so awesome. (Also, if your not such a crazy mood reader like me, this can save you so much money.)

All y'all annotation haters don't know what your missing out on. See how sick my annotations are (when I get around to posting them) and try to tell me shit. I DARE YOU!

How about in 2024 we stop it with reading books with the goal in mind to finish the book so you can add it to your list of read books and start reading books slowly and intentionally with the goal to rip it into pieces with your mind and be touched by it and formed by it and changed by it

[fleuriion]

✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

[garaks-padded-bra]

smth abt ziyal is when I'm rewatching those cringy moments with her and garak, they canonically aren't flirting the cardassian way. They are so cordial and polite to each other that it's so plain that at the very least garak has no romantic intentions towards her. He treats her like how he treats o'brien. He has more chemistry with odo

I used to be of the opinion on my first watch that the ziyal garak thing never should have happened (and it definitely could have been handled differently - sometimes it felt like different writers had different intentions with their dynamic and it got weird)

And to preface there was DEFINITELY homophobia involved in the doylist explanation for why garak got ( to what the average viewer saw as) a young female love interest

But one thing people don't tend to realise is that its stated QUITE plainly that garak doesn't return her feelings. He definitely didn't push her away hard enough, but he's a bit of a scumbag who prioritised having any sort of positive relationship with a cardassian over telling her to fuck off. (I also imagine he wanted to spare her feelings)

I think Garak could realise (bad dad squad) that Ziyals views on men (especially older cardassian men) was a very fragile topic to be handled and she was pretty much constantly rejected by her kind - which definitely lended itself to letting her kiss him, but he did outright tell her he didn't like her that way, so I'm not mad.

Ziyal is jumbled all the way up. Thank you Dukat. And Garak clearly thinks it's really funny to not fully dispel the rumour so he can deal immense psychic damage to her father.

They really aren't flirting the cardassian way - like ever - but I don't think that's to say Ziyal doesn't understand cardassian flirting. She is absolutely like her father in the sense that she manipulates kira into hanging out with her dad just because she wants them to get along - despite knowing Kiras genuine aggression doesn't match up with Dukats flirtatious kind. Ziyal is a good person but she is also related to Dukat and by God will she manipulate

One thing I will patently disagree with is the comparison to how garak treats O'brien (in regards to the general sexlessness).

That is wrong. Have you seen empok nor. Garak absolutely has a weird one sided homoerotic jealously thing with O'brien. It's O'brien who wants him shot out an airlock. That's on garak.

[rosiecosy]

come back home୨ৎ

(seventeen x reader) — angst, comfort

fights weren’t common between you and the boys, but when they happened, they always felt big.

tonight was no different.

you weren’t even sure how it started—something small, something dumb. maybe you were feeling overwhelmed, maybe they were frustrated too. but words were said, voices were raised, and suddenly, the walls of the dorm felt too tight, their voices too loud, the weight of their concern too heavy.

so you left.

you barely registered the way the door clicked shut behind you, barely noticed the cold bite of the night air against your skin. all you knew was that you needed space.

—

your feet carried you to the nearest park without much thought.

it was mostly empty at this hour, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. the only sound was the distant hum of passing cars, the occasional rustling of leaves. it was quiet. peaceful. a stark contrast to the suffocating tension in the dorm.

you wandered over to the swings, hands shoved into your pockets as you let out a slow breath.

maybe you had overreacted. maybe you should’ve just stayed and talked things through. but it was hard—being the youngest, the only girl in a dorm full of overprotective boys. they meant well, you knew that, but sometimes it was exhausting. too many opinions, too many voices telling you what to do, too many people hovering, worrying, questioning.

and you knew they only did it because they cared, but sometimes… sometimes you just needed to breathe.

you sat down on the swing, the chains creaking softly as you pushed off the ground. the rhythmic motion was soothing, the cool air helping to clear your mind. you closed your eyes, letting the weight of the night settle around you.

—

meanwhile, back at the dorm, the boys were spiraling.

"she’s not picking up," minghao muttered, lowering his phone.

"maybe she just needs a minute," vernon offered, though he sounded unsure.

"what if she doesn’t come back?" seokmin blurted out, eyes wide.

"don’t be ridiculous," woozi sighed, though his grip on his phone was tight.

"what if something happens to her?" mingyu asked, looking way too close to panicking.

"okay, enough," seungcheol cut in. "jun, jeonghan, joshua—you check the streets. hoshi, woozi, dino—stay here in case she comes back. the rest of us will check nearby cafés or parks."

"we’re not splitting up like a horror movie," jeonghan muttered, but he was already grabbing his coat.

—

you didn’t know how long you had been swinging when you heard footsteps approaching.

you blinked, slowing your movement, turning your head just in time to see seokmin and mingyu jogging toward you, relief washing over their faces the second they spotted you.

"there you are!" seokmin huffed, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"we’ve been looking everywhere," mingyu added, slightly breathless.

you blinked at them, a little guilty but mostly just tired. "i was just getting some air."

your phone buzzed in your pocket—seungcheol’s name flashing across the screen. you hesitated before answering.

"…hi?"

"where are you? are you safe? why didn’t you answer your phone?"

"i’m fine," you sighed. "i just needed to clear my head."

"stay where you are. we’re coming."

you didn’t get a say in it.

—

when you got back to the dorm, thirteen pairs of eyes were on you.

seungcheol looked like he wanted to lecture you. seungkwan looked like he wanted to cry. dino looked like you had personally betrayed him.

"i was literally gone for, like, twenty minutes," you pointed out.

"twenty minutes too long," hoshi muttered.

"don’t do that again," jeonghan sighed, pulling you into a hug.

"we thought you left for good," dino mumbled.

your expression softened. "what? why would i do that?"

they all exchanged awkward glances.

"…because of the fight?" jun said hesitantly.

you blinked. "guys."

"you left without saying anything," joshua pointed out.

"because i knew i’d come back," you said. "i just needed some space, that’s all."

seungcheol exhaled, rubbing his temples. "just—next time, tell someone, okay?"

guilt crept in at the worry in his voice. "okay. i’m sorry."

they all nodded, still looking a little shaken but relieved.

"now, group hug?" seokmin suggested.

before you could protest, you were pulled into a mess of arms, warmth, and way too much body heat.

"okay, okay, i get it!" you laughed. "i’m not going anywhere."

"good," woozi muttered. "because that was awful."

"never again," seungkwan mumbled into your shoulder.

and despite everything—despite the fight, despite the worry—this felt like home.

[plutoslastwords]

I see lando as a single dad too and I was wondering if you’d ever write daughter!reader when she’s a teenager and is going through, well her first menstrual cycle and he’s so completely lost lol

shark week

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando has no idea how a woman's body works, baby norris doesn't listen in health class. the outcome? chaos.

warnings: your first period?

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i know that it may be unrealistic that a 12 year old would have never heard of a period but idc. it works in the story. sorry for being so mia!! school is terrible atm 😩😩 love you all!! promise i am working on the requests xx

~~~

Going to high school in Monaco was not fun at the best of times.

Everyone says that surely it must be great! It’s Monaco! But when you don’t speak the language fluently - though you have got quite good after living there for 12 years of your life - and have just transferred to a new secondary school where you know no one, life isn’t great. 

Everyone in Monaco has one or two parents who are rich and famous in some way, meaning you can’t even pull the famous dad card to get yourself some friends. You’re stuck sitting alone at lunch, and being picked last for every team.

Lando hates it. He hates it so so much. He doesn't think he can stand seeing his baby coming home sad every afternoon, and he hates how sometimes he can’t be there to comfort you when life is feeling especially tough. He’s debated many a time just sending you to a boarding school back in England, where at least you could speak the same language as the kids there, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with being apart from you for that much of the year.

Therefore, both you and your dad just have to cope with the unfortunate situations, hoping and wishing that soon enough you’ll find your own feet and make some friends. 

Back to the fact that school in Monaco isn’t great on the best days, school in Monaco is absolute hell on the worst days.

On this particular day, you were sitting in Maths class, your least favourite, how were you meant to be able to understand maths in French when you didn’t even understand it in English. It was whilst the teacher was going on about something to do with algebra that you decided that you’d had enough, you put your hand up and quickly asked to go to the bathroom, you weren’t bothered about this anymore.

You took your normal long route around school to get to the bathrooms, having no intention of going back to your maths class anytime soon. You finally get to the bathrooms and it is there that you learn that you’re going to die.

You know that it is not normal to have blood in your pants. It can’t be normal. You must be dying. You sit there in shock for a moment, before starting to hyperventilate and presume the worst. 

When looking back, Lando knows that it is probably his fault that you got yourself into this situation. You never really listened in your Health classes, as they were all in French, and so it was probably his responsibility to educate you on what was going to happen at a certain point, but he’s still just a young guy, that was not top of his list of what he wanted to talk to his preteen daughter about!

You sit in the bathroom stall sobbing and shaking, surely this is the end, you were practically waiting for the Grim Reaper himself to come and pluck you away. In your disorientated mind the only thing that you can think to do is call Lando.

“Daddy I’m dying!” You bawl into the phone, the words barely coming out through your intense sobs.

Immediately Lando drops everything he was doing, freezing at your distressed tone, his mind going straight to the worst. “Baby?!? What’s going on, are you okay?!?” He practically shouts down the phone.

“No!!” You sob, “I’m dying!!!! Daddy please pick me up I-” You don’t finish your sentence because enough intense sob comes in the way and you fall back into hysterically crying.

Lando doesn’t even think twice before leaping up from his desk and rushing to grab his car keys. “I’m on my way, my angel, you’re gonna be okay, daddy’s gonna look after you.” He tries to soothe, but the worry in his voice is evident. 

When he arrives you’re still a sobbing mess, but you have to drag your tear stained body out of the cubicle and to the front office in order to be dismissed. When you see Lando you immediately jump into his arms, sobs wracking your body.

“Oh darling…”  He says, brokenly, he hates seeing you like this, “What’s happened, my love?” 

You don’t respond, too distressed, he seems to get the message and manoeuvres you to the car, where he drives home as quick as he can, to get you someplace familiar, hoping that that will soothe you slightly.

It works, partially. By the time that you’re home your sobbing has lessened, but you’re still nowhere near stable, still almost shaking with the fear that you’re feeling. Lando sits you down on the sofa with a glass of water, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I’m dying!! I’m bleeding and I’m dying!” You sniffle.

Suddenly everything clicks for Lando and then his mind goes completely blank. Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. He was not ready for this day, not ready whatsoever. 

“I-uhm-oh.” He stutters, not knowing what to say. “Y-you’re not dying, sweetheart, okay?”

“Yes I am!!! I’m dying!!!”

He has no idea what to do. He was hoping he had a year or two left before today came, but apparently luck was not on his side. He sits there, staring blankly at you, as you continue to cry. 

“Baby, I promise you you’re not dying, why don’t you go change your clothes and I’ll come up to your room in a sec and we’ll chat, okay?”

You shuffle to your room, still sobbing but if you’re dad seems so confident that you’re okay, then surely that means something…?

Lando paces around in a panic downstairs, waiting for his sister to answer the damn phone. There is no way that he can be doing this with no help.

After a horrible phone call, with a lot of him being laughed at by his sister for having a 12 year old daughter and still knowing fuck all about the menstrual cycle, he feels more prepared to actually talk to you.

You’re sitting in your bed, covered in blankets and watching a movie when he knocks at your door.

“Darling, can I come in?” 

You hum in response, tired from all of the sobbing and therefore not bothered to actually speak. He enters, with a shopping bag in his hand.

“How're you feeling, my angel?”

You shrug, curling up smaller in your blanket ball.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay, I promise, it’s all natural, okay?”

“Doesn’t feel natural…”

“It’s your period, angel. It’s your body getting ready for pregnancy”

You pull a face of absolute horror at that, “I’m pregnant?!??!”

His eyes widen and he backtracks immediately “No, no, no, no, you’re not pregnant, absolutely not.” He shudders at the thought, “It’s just so that maybe, at some point in the future, if you do get pregnant, your body is gonna be prepared…”

“So I’m gonna bleed until I get pregnant?”

“No, no, just for a couple days every month…”

“For how long?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure about that… like until your 40? I don’t know…”

“40?!??!?! I don’t want to bleed every month until I’m 40!!!!”

“I know, baby, but it’s just something that all women have to go through, it’s just a natural part of life, you’ll learn to cope with it…”

You pause, taking in his words, before eventually nodding in understanding, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done talking, much to Lando’s dismay, who’d quite like to get this conversation over and done with.

“So why do I need to bleed to be ready for pregnancy?” You question.

Lando knows this one, he practised it on the phone with his sister, “It’s the wall of your uterus shedding-”

“Ew.”

“Because your body got itself ready to be pregnant, and then obviously the egg was never fertilised.”

“So if I did get pregnant then I wouldn’t get my period?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Hm.”

“It’s all very normal, sweetheart, this just means that you’re healthy, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Good..” He smiles, “You all good?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What am I gonna do now..? With, you know, uhm- I don’t wanna ruin all my underwear…”

“Oh! Yes, that..” He reaches into his bag, “So, uh- these will stick on top of your underwear, and like uh- catch the blood, I guess.. And then you throw them away after wearing them for like 5 hours or so… That sound okay?”

You nod, slightly sceptical, but oh well.

Eventually, Lando leaves to go and do his own thing, and you stew in the knowledge of your new life. After getting yourself showered and cleaned up, as well as trying your new items, you shuffle downstairs, just needing a hug.

“Hey, baby…” Your dad smiles, as he sits on the tv, watching some nonsense reality show.

You don’t reply, just nestling yourself next to him, needing his comforting touch. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“My baby… getting so big… daddy loves you, more than anything…”

~~~

a/n: fank you for reading!!11 send in any requests xx

[plutotheplum]

I'm Your Man

caleb x fem!reader

summary: riling up your boyfriend is entirely too easy. when he finds out you have a tutor that happens to be a man... well, it's safe to say caleb hates that sort of thing.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, spanking, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, finger sucking, exhibitionism, jealous!caleb, established relationship, modern au

w/c: 5.8k

a/n: *caleb seeing reader near a guy* crashes out immediately - hope you all enjoy!! <3

also on ao3!

“Baby!”

You squeak when the door swings open, the man in front of you moving in a blur. There’s a pair of lips landing against your cheek in a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up off of the ground, his faze nuzzling into your chest.

“C- Caleb,” you whine, squirming in his hold, trying to get him to set you back down, “put me down, you dork.”

“But I missed you,” Caleb grumbles back, rubbing his face all over your top like a cat, nuzzling into your chest. He finally grants your request once he’s satisfied, hands smoothing down over your sides once he sets you down onto your feet.

You smile when he cups your cheeks, humming happily when he begins to pepper soft kisses all over your face, his thumbs smoothing over your skin gently.

“I missed you too,” you say, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him down for a kiss, sighing softly against his mouth.

Caleb groans, his hands squeezing at your waist, kissing you back eagerly. You huff out a laugh when he gropes at your ass, rocking up onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s it?” he protests when you pull away, pushing your hands away when you try to tug your duffle bag into his apartment.

“I literally just got here,” you muse, watching as he grabs your bag for you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you silently appreciate the flex of your boyfriend’s biceps as he carries your duffle bag into his bedroom for you. 

You shut his front door, securing the lock, before trailing after him. Caleb is reaching for you the moment you step inside his bedroom, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and letting out a contented sigh.

“Missed you so much,” he sighs, voice muffled with the way he’s pressed his face against your neck, his nose digging into you, lips brushing over your skin. 

“Sometimes I wonder how you live without me,” you tease, hands stroking over his hair gently, scratching his scalp every now and then.

“I hardly get by,” Caleb complains aggrievedly, tugging you towards his bed. “I think I have withdrawals every time you leave.”

A laugh slips out of you at that, crawling up to snuggle into his arms, leaning back to rest your head on his shoulder. Caleb kisses your cheek, his chest warm and firm against your back as he hums in satisfaction. 

“I only have a year left before I graduate, then I can move in with you,” you remind him, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as Caleb busies himself with trying to meld his body against yours.

“Feels like an eternity,” he mutters, huffing out a breath. Caleb props his chin on your shoulder, eyes trained on your phone as you watch some random video. “How are your classes anyways?”

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I was struggling in one of them, but I sorted that out.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, pecking your lips gently in return, “how’d you do that?”

“I got a tutor,” you shrug, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to your phone. “He’s pretty good.”

You can feel Caleb stiffening behind you, his fingers stopping their movements against your sides. Your brows furrow, tossing your phone somewhere in front of you before turning back to look at Caleb properly. There’s a tell-tale pout beginning to form on his lips; something you’ve gotten used to ever since you were children.

“What’s wrong?”

“He?” Caleb echoes, his eyes darkening, “your tutor’s a guy?”

“Well… yeah?” you reply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “the dude is like super smart; top of the class and everything. I figured he’d be the best to teach me.” 

“I’m super smart,” Caleb shoots back, and you raise your brows when you see a frown coming across his face, his lips turning downwards. “And I was the top of all my classes. Definitely smarter than your little tutor. Drop him.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, turning around his arms until you settle on his lap, thighs straddling his hips.

“Yeah?” you smile, peering up at him, “you don’t even know the syllabus, Caleb.”

“I can learn it,” he protests stubbornly, “besides, I am smart. I’m a fighter pilot, baby.”

Your smile widens when you see Caleb’s chest puff out a little, his proud nature showing - not that you minded. Your fingers smooth up over the back of his shoulders, a soft sigh escaping Caleb when you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can just say it,” you whisper teasingly, pressing yourself a little closer. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Caleb echoes, his lips pursing as he considers your words. “Maybe,” he shrugs, his eyes opening as he stares down at you, “or maybe…” he whispers, lowering his head to brush a kiss across your lips, “maybe I just want to keep my girl to myself.”

Your cheeks flush when he calls you his girl, heart fluttering in your chest. The words echo in your mind, brushing whatever thoughts were filling your mind away. He always knew how to disarm you, and you can never quite get used to Caleb’s possessiveness, his need to have his claim on you. It’s thrilling and nothing else has ever made you feel so wanted.

“Hm?” Caleb hums against your cheek, “my girl is all mine. Right, baby?”

Hands pawing at his firm chest, you nod, leaning into him as though in a daze. You lean up, making a small noise, trying to kiss him. Caleb clicks his tongue, his hand cupping your jaw, fingers squeezing gently on either side of your cheeks to bring you out of the slow, syrupy haze that was currently fogging your mind. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes- yes,” you say insistently, pouting before you pucker up your lips a little more, desperate for a kiss, “‘m all yours, Caleb.”

“Good girl.”

You preen at the praise, mewling softly when he kisses you. Caleb’s hands squeeze at your hips gently, trying to stop all of your squirming and jostling on top of his lap. A dissatisfied sound leaves you when he stops you from grinding across his lap, your eyes narrowing as you peer up at him.

“I thought you missed me, Caleb.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand that was currently sliding down his chest, his lips pressing against your palm when he manages to unfurl the fist you’d made with your fingers. 

“You’re so grabby,” Caleb mumbles against your palm, “‘m tryna take it slow, baby.”

“I don’t want slow,” you huff out, fisting his shirt and yanking him towards you. “I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a smirk on Caleb’s lips, his nose nudging against yours, fingers pressing into your back.

“Last time you cried when I-”

“Shut up!” you sputter, slapping your hand over his mouth, cheeks hot with embarrassment when you remember what had happened last time. Caleb’s hand wrapped around your throat, fingers relentless against your clit, cock pounding entirely too deep-  “That was- it was overwhelming!”

Caleb opens his mouth to respond, mischief glinting in his eyes, but your phone ruins the moment, ringing out. You groan, turning your back to him as you reach for your phone that you had tossed over to the foot of his bed.

“Who is it?” Caleb asks, his fingers wrapping around your ankles as you kick up your legs lazily.

“My tutor,” you reply, showing him your phone.

A smile spreads across your face when you see Caleb’s playful expression drop, replaced with something akin to annoyance.

“You know,” you continue, your voice dipping into a drawling taunt just to piss him off, “bet he’d fuck me if I asked him.”

“You little-” Caleb hisses, his voice rising as he tries to grab for your phone.

You pull it out of his reach, pressing a finger to your lips, making a hushing motion. Caleb’s expression grows darker the moment you swipe your finger across the screen to answer, his hands tightening their grip on your ankles.

“Hi,” you chirp sweetly, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Uh hey,” the man on the other end of the line replies, “are you free to talk?”

You hum, sneaking a glance towards Caleb who seems close to snapping, his glare venomous when he catches your eyes. Too easy, you think, biting your lip to stifle a laugh at his thinly veiled anger.

“Super free,” you say pointedly, “what did you want to talk abo- ow!”

A sharp yelp escapes you when Caleb’s hand comes down on your ass, the slap stinging. A strangled whine escapes you, your head whipping around to glare back at Caleb, feeling your eye twitch. Your boyfriend meets your eyes with a hard glare of his own, his fingers pushing up the hem of your skirt to examine the rapidly reddening skin of your ass.

“You okay?” your tutor asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

“F- fine,” you manage out, “just- just um- stubbed my toe!”

“Right,” he murmurs, “hate when that happens.”

You nod along as though he can see you, trying to kick Caleb in the face as you roll over onto your back. The wind is knocked out of you when Caleb grabs you by the waist, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front again, his hands squeezing at your ass roughly, hand coming down again in a harsh smack.

“Ouch!”

“You uh- you stubbed your toe again?” your tutor asks tentatively.

“Mhm,” you say, voice slightly breathless with the restraint it was taking you not to cry out. “I’m- ‘m just really clumsy.”

Your fingers tremble as you manage to mute yourself on your phone, letting out a whimper when Caleb spanks you again and again, a hint of regret pooling inside of you at pushing your boyfriend this far.

“Unmute,” Caleb murmurs, gripping your hips to make you arch a bit, ass up in the air for him to spank again, your skin hot and prickly. His voice is a low snap when you don’t do as he says, your throat bobbing as you swallow harshly, Caleb’s tone growing firmer, no longer requesting but demanding. “C’mon baby, unmute the fucking phone.” 

You whine in protest, but do as he says, shakily unmuting yourself. You can hardly hear whatever your tutor was rambling on about, eyes blinking rapidly to try and concentrate. It’s all in vain however, when Caleb rains down another slap to your ass, your teeth sinking into your forearm to muffled a pained gasp.

“Bad fucking girl,” Caleb mutters lowly, “such a bratty, little slut.”

The itch to argue and bite back prickles across your skin, but Caleb’s hands are smoothing over you ass, and you wiggle your hips back to meet the soft pets he rewards your ass with; his fingers prodding and pushing your ass cheeks apart to take a glimpse of your panties.

“Anyways,” your tutor continues, “I was just calling because my schedule’s changed so I might not be able to tutor you during the time we agreed on.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes widening as Caleb tugs at your panties, pulling them away from your skin before he lets go, the elastic snapping back against your skin. “That’s- that’s uh- too bad?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “do you mind if we settle on a different day?”

There’s an answer sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Caleb pulls at your ankle, managing to flip you over onto your back. He tightens his grip, your body sliding against the sheets as he tugs you towards him.

“N- no,” you hiss, forgetting about the man on the other end of the line, too preoccupied by trying to simultaneously yank your leg free whilst trying to kick Caleb’s face, “don’t you dare!”

Caleb only gives you a lazy grin, his hands managing to catch both your ankles and tug you further down the bed. 

“Don’t you dare?” your tutor echoes confusedly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wincing at the misunderstanding.

You laugh, trying to cover up your flustered state, head dropping back against the sheets as Caleb smiles against the soles of your feet, peppering kisses all over the expanse of your feet.

“That’s not what I meant,” you grit out, shaking your head vehemently when Caleb smooths his hands over your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties.

You can feel your brain short-circuiting when your boyfriend settles between your thighs, his hands grasping at your thighs, squeezing at the fat before he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“So you’re okay with me rescheduling?”

“Y- yes!” you say, your voice pitching upwards awkwardly when Caleb rubs his fingers over your clothed cunt, his head dipping down to press kisses to your damp panties.

“Great,” he says, sounding a little chipper, “how does Friday sound? Maybe 10-12 in the morning?”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out hazily, fingers brushing through Caleb’s hair as he pulls your panties down your legs, your half-lidded gaze not missing the way he slips them into the pocket of his sweats - another addition to his growing collection.

Perv.

You sigh, biting your lip as Caleb kisses your puffy folds, his tongue sliding through them after, your grip on your phone loosening as you squeeze your breast, squirming under Caleb’s ministrations.

He stares up at you, pulling back to lick his lips, strings of slick clinging to his lips and chin. You smile hazily and Caleb leans forward, stealing a quick kiss before burying his face back into your aching pussy. 

“Uh- does that sound good?” your tutor asks, his voice sounding a little unsure with all the sighing and soft noises you were let out.

“So good,” you murmur absentmindedly, thighs squeezing around Caleb’s head gently, enough to tease him a little.

Caleb gives you a pointed stare, his teeth sinking into your thigh before he smirks, nodding towards your phone.

You flush, embarrassment making your body go hot. “I- I mean y- yeah! That sounds perfect!”

“Okay, let me just write that down-”

You tug at Caleb’s hair, mouth dropping open when he latches onto your clit, sucking harshly. The sensations make your thighs twitch, toes curling as they press up against Caleb’s broad back, a soft mewl leaving you when you see the flex of his muscles through his shirt.

“Pretty pussy missed me,” Caleb whispers, his voice barely audible. He sighs contentedly when he thumbs apart your folds, the sheets rustling slightly as you watch him grind his hips into the bed, Caleb’s eyes not wavering from the clench of your pussy around nothing. “So wet, hm? Gonna ruin my sheets, baby.”

You whimper when he draws back, thighs twitching when he gathers a considerable amount of spit in his mouth, spitting down onto your clenching pussy. It’s filthy really, but Caleb is well-versed in your body; knows you well enough to know that you’ll go along with whatever he offers you.

Your fingers push at his head gently when he tries to kiss your clit, moving your hand down to spread your pussy for him instead, rubbing his spit into your cunt, mixing it with your slick. Caleb lets out a low groan at the sight, and you smile prettily, pressing your wet fingers against his mouth, smearing it over his lips.

His tongue lolls out soon after, licking his lips and you feed him your fingers, hips rolling up needily when he sucks on your fingers lazily. “Want you to cum for me on call,” Caleb slurs, licking between your fingers, grazing his teeth against the pads of them.

“What?” you hiss, brows raising incredulously. “I am not doing that.”

Caleb ignores you, busying himself with burying his face back into your cunt. You stifle a moan, biting down on your lip hard enough to remind yourself that you shouldn’t have been doing this; be on a call whilst your boyfriend was eating you out.

“I was thinking we could meet up at the library.”

Your tutor’s voice breaks through the haze and you grit your teeth, silently regretting the fact that you’d been the one to start this whole ordeal in the first place.

“The- ah- the library sounds good,” you mumble, eyes squeezing shut when Caleb begins to double his efforts, sucking and slurping, the sounds entirely too lewd and perhaps audible to the man on the phone. “

You press down on Caleb’s head, fingers tangling with his hair, back arching. Caleb’s smile is obvious, you can feel it against your cunt, his head tilting as he prods at your aching hole, beginning to fuck you with his tongue. A shudder racks through you, an impatient whine slipping out of you, desperate to orgasm.

“Be good, baby,” Caleb murmurs, replacing his tongue with his fingers, curling them up inside of you.

You try to stifle a moan and Caleb is feeling nice enough to help you, his free hand sliding up over your stomach, squeezing at your tits appreciatively before stuffing his fingers into your mouth to muffle your noises.

Legs jerking, you try to hold still, but when Caleb latches back onto your clit, your entire body quakes. It’s torture, the way Caleb knows how to play with you, his mouth smashing against your dripping pussy to suck more feverishly to drive you further towards the edge.

“The library it is then,” your tutor notes down. “Or you could always come over.”

Come over. Come. Cum. Cum?

A drunken giggle slips out of you, fingers running through Caleb’s soft hair as he flicks his tongue against your clit, stroking over it gently before his mouth suctions around the swollen bud, making your back arch. Yeah, you think hazily, you were going to cum. 

“Mhm,” you slur, “‘m definitely gonna be cumming.”

“You- you are?” he sounds a little surprised, “you know, I’ve never had someone so eager to learn. It’s actually kinda… refreshing, honestly so thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you mewl, hips rocking up against Caleb’s face, feeling the huff of laughter your boyfriend lets out against your pussy, his hand coming down to spread you apart for him again, his fingers thrusting in and out of you faster.

You bite down on your lip, body seizing up when Caleb crooks his fingers inside of you just right, the sensation of his tongue on your clit enough to have your back arching, toes digging into Caleb’s back as you cum.

Caleb groans, kissing your clit sloppily, his tongue sliding through your puffy folds to drink up every last drop of slick that he could find. He laps over your pussy, nuzzling into your thigh after as you shudder and shake, kissing your hip to help soothe you through the aftermath of your orgasm.

You’re too boneless to stop Caleb from reaching for your phone, eyes fluttering shut, unable to stop the syrupy atmosphere that had befallen you.

“Hung up for you,” he murmurs, putting your phone somewhere, his lips landing on your cheek for a sweet kiss.

“I didn’t get to say bye to him,” you mumble belatedly, arms wrapping around Caleb’s neck lazily.

Caleb clicks his tongue, sending you a half-hearted glare. “You don’t need to say bye to him, baby. Stop thinking about him. I just made you cum on my tongue.”

“But he’s just so helpful,” you sigh lazily, feeling Caleb’s fingers dig into your hips.

“For fuck’s sake,” Caleb mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m helpful and I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

You smile up at him, tugging him down to kiss him. Caleb lets out a low noise against your lips, his hands squeezing at your waist, shuddering when you scratch his scalp.

“You don’t have to be so butthurt, baby,” you coo, sitting up, “I still love you.”

“Not enough apparently,” Caleb grouses, tugging his shirt up over his head.

You go hazy eyed at the sight, hand running up over your boyfriend’s defined abdomen, your fingers catching on his dog tags situated between his unfairly thick pecs. 

“Gonna fuck me now?” you ask him sweetly, tugging his sweats and boxers down to free his cock.

Caleb’s cock bobs free and you sigh dreamily at the sight, the head of it wet with thick globs of pre-cum; damning evidence of his arousal. Your hand wraps around his fat cock, the length hot and throbbing under your touch. 

It’s all too much for Caleb who lets out a shuddering noise, his head dropping forward, resting against your shoulder as you stroke his cock lazily, leaning forward to spit on it. Caleb whines and you take the opportunity to lean forward, mouthing at his pecs, pressing open-mouthed kisses across his heated skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb sighs, hands coming up to cradle your head against his chest, his cock twitching in your hands when you reach down to squeeze at his balls, your teeth scraping across his sternum playfully. 

“Missed your cock,” you whisper, rising up onto your knees to kiss up his neck. “‘s just so big and thick,” you say appreciatively. 

“Do you even think about me?” Caleb protests, his head tipping to the side to bare more of his neck to you, “or do you just think about my fat fuckin’ cock?”

“It’s not a crime to think about it,” you huff out, angling your head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I just really like it.”

“Brat,” he mutters, reaching down to grope your ass. “You sound like you have a crush on my cock.”

“You steal my panties!” you shoot back exasperatedly, glaring up at him before biting down on his shoulder in retaliation.

“Maybe I just really like the cute little designs,” Caleb drawls, yanking your head back using your hair before dipping his head to kiss you messily, his tongue invading your mouth, practically fucking you with it until there’s spit leaking from the sides of your mouths.

You moan, pawing at his broad shoulders, mewling happily when he manhandles you to his will, turning you over onto your front, his hands tugging your ass up into the air, making you arch for him.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls, landing a spank to your ass. “Ask for my cock, sweetheart, c’mon.”

You whimper, face shoving into the sheets, grabbing at them to try and ground yourself. The sounds of Caleb stroking his cock making your pussy throb, hips wiggling back to try and make him push his cock inside.

“W- want it inside,” you demand, yelping when Caleb smacks your ass again.

“Think you can do better than that,” Caleb murmurs, his hand smoothing up over your back, his cock slapping against your aching cunt, before he presses the tip of it in before drawing it back out. “Hm? Wanna hear you all pretty, baby.”

“P- please?” you hiccup, feeling desperate tears prick at your lash line - a sign of your own desperation and need to have him close, no, in you. “C- can I p- please have your cock, Caleb? Please?” 

“You sound so sweet when you ask like that,” Caleb says dreamily, dipping his head to reward your cheek with a kiss. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

A shaky breath escapes you, your cheek squishing against the sheets, eyes slipping shut when he sinks his cock inside of you. You’ve slept with Caleb countless times, but you can never get quite used to the stretch of his cock and the way it manages to turn every rational thought in your mind to mush.

Caleb doesn’t seem to be faring better, letting out a guttural groan as he buries himself into the hilt. You can’t help but think he’s being a little louder than usual, but you’re not complaining.

“So tight,” he rasps hoarsely, fingers spreading apart your ass to watch his cock sink in and out of you, his eyes silently appreciating the way your cunt is stretched out around his cock. “Feels so good, baby.”

You mumble something back incoherently, content to let him have you like this, his hips smacking into your ass loudly with every thrust he delivers.

“Love you, Caleb,” you mewl when you feel him kiss up your back and over your shoulder, his face pressing into the crook of your neck, “love you much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, drawing his hips back before driving them into you harder and faster, “so good to me, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nod, rising up onto your hands, turning your head to kiss him, “‘m your good girl.”

Caleb grunts, his arm wrapping around your waist. “You weren’t being good when you were talking to him.”

You pout, too horny to roll your eyes and tell him that he was being wildly immature and entirely too possessive for his own good. Instead, you squirm forward, Caleb’s cock slipping out of you despite his protests.

“Should I make it up to you?” you ask sweetly, voice lilting as you bat your lashes up at him.

“Make it up to me?” Caleb echoes, his breath hitching when you crawl towards him, hips swaying a little, your hands pushing at his shoulders to get him to lay down.

You hum in response, crawling up over him, settling on his lap. You smile when he groans loudly, your hips rolling as you grind your pussy over his hard, aching cock.

“Ride me,” he mutters dazedly, pre-cum coating his abdomen. “Sink down on my cock and ride me, baby.”

“I’m enjoying this though,” you say teasingly, hands planted firmly on his chest as you roll your hips again, moaning softly when his cock slides through your folds, the tip of it catching on your clit. “W- wait- Caleb!”

You squeak when he grabs for you roughly, picking you up easily, dropping you down onto his cock. A sharp cry escapes you, cunt clenching around him in a desperate attempt to get accustomed to his size.

“‘m gonna fuck the brattiness outta you,” Caleb murmurs, his lips slotting over yours to seal the promise. “And then-” he moans, his head tipping back slightly as he guides you to rock your hips, feeling your cunt around his throbbing cock, “and then, you’re gonna scream my name while you cum.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping as he begins to bounce you on his cock, your ass smacking against his thighs. You don’t need much encouragement, not when Caleb’s mouth is sucking and biting at your neck, most likely leaving numerous hickeys in his wake. 

“Who's making you feel this good?” your boyfriend asks, “huh, baby?”

“Y- you are!” you squeal when he slaps your ass, hugging his head as he buries his face into your chest, his mouth sucking at your nipple before switching over to the other breast, biting a mark into the fat of it.

“That’s right,” Caleb growls, “I am, not anyone else. Just me and my cock, yeah?”

“Yes- yes! Oh fuck- hah- C- Caleb!”

He snarls, pulling you down, breasts squishing up against his chest. You squirm, hardly able to believe you’d manage to piss him off into such a state. Caleb wraps his arms around you, his knees bending as he plants his feet firmly against his bed, beginning to thrust up into you.

“S- so deep,” you hiccup, pressing sloppy kisses to his jaw, “you’re the best.”

Caleb groans, his heart fluttering at your words, a light flush covering his cheeks. Despite everything, your words still manage to fluster him, the softness of your lips on his cheek making his body throb with affection.

He manages to tilt his head, capturing your lips with his, uncaring that your kisses were slightly clumsy and uncoordinated with how fucked out you were. You whimper when he quickens his pace, cock pounding into you, his balls slapping against your ass.

“‘m gonna c- cum,” you whine, pussy clenching down around his cock desperately.

“Yeah?” Caleb rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “gonna cum on my cock, sweetheart?”

You nod rapidly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented coo. Caleb grunts out your name, his fingers reaching down to squeeze at your ass, fucking up into you over and over again until you squeal and scream, his name leaving your mouth in a slurred chant.

“C- Caleb! I- ah! I love you!”

“Cum,” Caleb snaps, burying himself into the hilt, his hand managing to find your clit. You whine when he rubs it, body shuddering on top of his as you cum, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. “There you go, baby.”

You let out a dazed sound when Caleb kisses you, lips pressing together sloppily, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Fuck,” Caleb mutters, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his thighs trembling slightly as his hot, thick cum floods your pussy. “So good to me, sweetheart.”

You flop down onto the bed, chest rising and falling as you pant raggedly, Caleb’s softening cock slipping out of you. His cum smears across your thigh when he moves towards you, his face pressing into your chest as he kisses your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth playfully until you push at his head in protest.

“I should rile you up more,” you muse, fingers tracing over his lips gently, a triumphant smile on your face.

Caleb rolls his eyes, kissing the pads of your fingers. “Maybe you should,” he concedes finally, running a hand through his hair, looking a little weary, his cheeks flushed prettily. 

You cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to pepper kisses over his face, to his cheeks, forehead and brows, laughing when he returns your kisses and sucks the fat of your cheek into his mouth childishly.

“Y’all are freaks.”

The smile on your face fades, the color all but draining from your face when you hear a crackly voice coming from your phone. You glance towards Caleb, and the asshole in question looks entirely too smug and pleased, a lazy grin spread out across his face.

The cozy intimate atmosphere around you seems to fade, annoyance flitting across your face. You have half a mind to slap Caleb across the face, your jaw clenching as your teeth grit together, but the more pressing issue at hand wins out. You only need to sit up to spy the dangerous glint in your boyfriend’s eyes. The bed dips under both of you, sheets rumpling in a flurry as you both scramble towards your phone, trying to grab it first.

“I am so sorry-” you begin, shrieking when Caleb tugs your phone from your hand. You flail, trying to crawl up onto his lap, shoving at his shoulders in an attempt to snatch your phone back, desperate to save the last shreds of your now scarce and very much dwindling dignity.

“You could’ve hung up,” Caleb retorts bluntly into your phone, his thumb pushing into your mouth when you open your mouth to protest. “Now fuck off.”

You watch as Caleb disconnects the call, your eyes narrowing, not tempted to suck on his thumb like you might’ve been in any other situation. Instead, you bite down, satisfaction coursing through you when Caleb yelps, watching as his eyes squeezing shut in pain. You cling on stubbornly, glaring up at him when he tries to pull his thumb free, a wince leaving him as pain flares up through his thumb. You don’t let go until Caleb protests, his hand pushing at your forehead gently.

“So mean, sweetheart,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzling into your chest, mouthing at the sides of your breasts lazily. 

You stare down at your boyfriend, the soft tufts of his brown hair now messy and sticking up into your face. You can feel your eye beginning to twitch, irritation prickling across your skin.

“What the fuck was that?” you snap, swatting the side of his head, “you said you hung up!”

“Must’ve forgotten,” Caleb mumbles, his expression feigning innocence as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Really?” you murmur, leaning forward, head tilting. “You forgot? Guess I’ll just forget to stay here tonight.”

You move to get off of his lap, but Caleb clicks his tongue, his arms tightening around you. You try again, but his hold is firm, preventing you from going anywhere other than staying in his lap.

“Thought you were my good girl,” Caleb sighs, dragging his lips across your jaw, trailing soft kisses over your skin. “I was only showing him who you really belonged to.”

“Belonged to?” you echo, hand cupping the back of his head to bare your neck to him when he kisses your neck. 

“Mhm,” he hums, lifting his head to peck your lips. You can’t help but lean into him, eyes fluttering as he brushes his thumbs over your cheeks gently, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Funny,” you breathe out, showing him your hand, “I don’t see a ring on my hand.”

Caleb pauses, his eyes widening for a moment before a smile spreads across his face, his head dipping to give you another kiss.

“I can do that,” he whispers against your lips. “You want a ring, sweetheart? I’ll give you one.”

“That’s not what I-” you begin exasperatedly, squeaking when Caleb grabs your chin, his mouth slotting over yours to kiss you heatedly, stopping you from speaking.

“So?” Caleb asks eagerly, “what do you want? A diamond? Personally, I think-”

“I am not marrying you,” you interrupt, pressing your hands against his chest to push him back. You bite your lip, averting your gaze, feeling a little shy. “...At least not right now, so- so shut up.”

“I’ll marry you eventually,” Caleb murmurs, a smile spreading across his face, “been wanting to ever since we were kids.”

You groan, flopping away from him, burying your face into a pillow to hide your flustered expression.

“C’mere baby,” he coaxes, smiling against your cheek after he pulls you into his arms, letting you bury your face into his warm chest. “I love you.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mumble, peering up at him. You pout and Caleb grins, dropping a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, jerk.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking gently as your eyes droop shut, lulled to sleep by the heat and comfort of his body, cocooned in Caleb’s affection - until he decides to ruin it with a thoughtful whisper that makes him sound entirely too pleased with what he’s managed to accomplish. 

“Guess you’re gonna have to send me the syllabus for that class after all.”

[blorbo-apologist]

I'm not black, I'm not even American, but live here and I *want* to love the country. I really do. I love and even married an American and moved here to be with him. There's a lot to love here. But ummm there are certain institutions that uhhh....

Anyway, I'm so mad about ca:bnw not because it's a terrible movie. It's not, it's okay. But I'm mad that Anthony Mackie is a fantastic Cap and it just underserves him so badly. They actually wrote him really well, and Anthony Mackie is just absolutely nailing his portrayal. I didn't even love Sam Wilson that much when he was first handed the shield. I didn't hate him, but he was just like a character that sometimes made quips and he was fine, but i wouldn't have missed him if he wasn't around. But as someone who fights for the people? As someone to represent the actual people of America? As a symbol of hope? That someone is out there to do and be good while wearing my country's flag? I think i would be proud to be an American if all my major representatives were this capable, charming, thoughtful, genuine and good. If he was what the country stood for? Yeah, America is great. I genuinely feel like he is an inspirational figure. I get that no one can be that perfect, and you can see the pressure get to him. The ideal obviously would be that he doesn't have to be the sole beacon of hope to shoulder it all. That we'd have a political system of leaders full of people like that and more support for Sam Wilson. But we can't even get everyone to be happy that we get Anthony Mackie to play Captain America. And his movie isn't going to do well. And I'm so mad about it.

And he’s RIGHT. Fuck everyone who is throwing a fit over Mackie speaking the truth. He and Chris Evans know this role better than anyone. Captain America is a figure of American propaganda both in the real world and in the MCU, despite how the characters Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson and actors Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie feel. If you just see the red, white and blue, the propaganda, and not what these characters have stood for, that’s on you. And if you think that America represents honor and dignity for everyone, wake the fuck up. Honestly, just look out the window.

[max-nicoxfandom]

Happy WIP Wednesday ! Here is a first draft/snippet of a random chapter in my long fic I'm working on (don't go looking for it, still unsure if I'm going to post it), bc I think I'm gonna take this part out even if I really like the concept.

Danny is like 6-7yrs old in this

Danny is a weird kid.

That's not to say Dick expected him to be normal when his family took him in. No, even if Danny wasn't still half dead, no one in this family is normal. Not even Duke and Barbara, the self proclaimed normies of the family.

Danny has brought a certain life to the manor, even in death, that has Dick contemplating moving back. Somehow, even Jason has been spending more time than usual there. Arguments have been lessened, the manor has been less creaky and more settled, Alfred even looks a little younger these days.

It's both the fault of Danny's sweet exterior, and the odd green that swirls in the blue of his eyes. Not the same hue as Jason's, but something near to it.

He's a lot like Jason, actually. Dick is sure if Jason had come to them just a little bit younger he'd be the spitting image of Danny.

It's the little things that make them look so similar. Almost everyone in the manor has the blue-green eye, black hair combo. It's everything else in Danny that makes him look exactly like Jason.

Danny likes to wish the moon good morning when he sees it during the day, and insists on opening his curtains when he goes to sleep so the moon can listen to his bedtime story too. He likes to check his stuffed animals for injuries when they fall off furniture. He thanks Alfred for his food, and thanks his food for being yummy. When he leaves the manor, he blows the building a kiss goodbye.

Dick does not tell Bruce that the house pulls itself from the ground, and creaks back.

Sure, Jason wasn't dead (not yet, anyway), but he was so excited to be alive. He had that same disposition to do good to everyone and everything that Danny does. Jason may not be some sort of partial human like Danny, but Jason was Robin, and Robin? Robin is magic.

You don't have to believe in ghosts for them to be real, and you don't have to see Danny for him to exist. On the same wavelength, you don't have to see Robin to know Jason made him magic. It was just the truth. Like how the sky is blue and Bruce is Batman.

Dick is watching his life be changed one step at a time, just like it was with Jason–like how it was supposed to be with Jason–and like it was with his siblings.

He keeps flowers in his car now. He didn't before, he never had a reason for it.

But one time, Danny cried as they passed a graveyard. He was sitting curled up against the window in the back while Dick hummed along to some ballad on the radio. It was peaceful, as things tend to be when Danny's around, and even as the kid cried Dick never stopped feeling tranquil. He knew everything would be okay, Dick would stop at nothing to make his new brother happy again.

“I have no flowers.” He’d said. Dick hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong. “They'll all be so sad I came by, and I had no flowers.”

Danny's eyes were green when he'd spoken. Green, teary, and filled with more mourning a child should ever understand. Dick's heart broke about a thousand times over.

So now Dick keeps flowers in his car. Whenever he drives past a graveyard he throws a flower out the window, just like Danny does. And if the bouquet dies before he gets to give them away, he gives them to Danny, and he buries them in the backyard.

Green eyed and sad. Sometimes Jason joins him, sometimes Damian does. Dick never feels like it's his place.

This fic also has to do with the cult thing I was talking about sometime ago, and the post about big cities. I kinda regret having this take place in Gotham instead of Amity, but it's too late now (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Asks and interactions are always welcome !

[sourco0kie]

Self Awareness AU - Prologue

You huffed as you placed your controller, playing this game each day has gotten boring, Especially when there’s no to little update to the game. When it does updates it’s only bugs fixes or some features getting removed.

With a disappointed sigh, you closed steam and opened google to watch youtube. You searched the general if there’s any interesting video that would catch your attention. One for your favorite youtuber catches your interest and instantly you click on it.

You groan in displeasure as an ad starts playing, with no other choice you decide to wait for the five seconds for the skip ad button. The ad starts playing and.. It instantly catches your attention. The quality of the game and the voice acting intrigued you. Especially this one character with an ice cream cone for a hat having that magical girl transformation.

You went on deep research about the game, seeing what it will bring to the table. You watch a few videos about the story and it’s interesting enough and well written. You were so hyped when you found out the game is available on PC you went and download it, so you won’t force your phone to die more for the game.

You instantly download it, and once installed you open the app for another download. Typical. You happily waited for it and were super hyped about the intro animation. You played on, already loving the characters, oh how you favor Gingerbrave!

You played everyday, not missing a single day! Heck you even began trying to draw in the unique artstyle, even as you never draw in your entire life. Each time you gacha, you prayed on getting either an ancient or a beast. And either would be good for your team. As of current you favor Strawberry Crepe Cookie for their amazing defense and skill.

On a particular day as you log in, everything feels.. Different. The front loading screen felt odd. You brush it off and log in the game, doing your missions and creating stuff you need for the laboratory research. One of the cookies, Affogato Cookie, has a speech bubble. You clicked on it expecting the usual repeating dialogue but this time it’s different. “My, My you look quite lovely.”

Ok. A bit creepy but okay.. Maybe that’s just a new dialogue the game added? But there’s no small update requirement from the game, odd. You paid no mind to it as it’s a regular occurrence. Sometimes the cookies would have a self awareness dialogue.

You continued on playing the game with no more weird occurrences, just the normal game. You speed run through the cryspia story already passing the hollyberry kingdom. You kept on losing in the dark choco chapter so you decide to just gather up your power first before continuing.

The sound of your alarm snapped you out of your game run. Glancing at the time you realized it’s already time for one of your online classes. You closed the game, going to your kingdom one last time just to be met by Gingerbrave saying; “Pure Vanilla Cookie would love to know how radiant you are!”

You paused, staring at the screen with a shiver under your skin. You brush it off and log out the game to open your class in session group. For 30 minutes you listen to the professor explain about today’s lesson. Suddenly the sound of your phone notification caught your attention, you were about to pick up before it started to shake.

You gasped, watching as a blue hand reached out from your phone. “What-”

“TA-DA! The star of the show has arrived!~”

The hand clenched the edge of the table, using it to leverage the infamous of a Diva jester pulled himself out. “Wooow.. quite a lovely place of living you got here, need a little more blue for color though. But you won't be needing to change things since you're coming with me.”

You stare with your mouth gape open. Meeting with a powerful jester was NOT on your list today.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Ooh don’t be afraid dear, I don’t bite, unless..”

“NOPE-” You grabbed the nearest item which was your notebook and threw it at him, he barely dodged it. He frowned before smirking again as he tilted his head with his hands clasped together, placing his cheek against the back of his hand.

“Adorable attempt, dear. But you gotta do more than tha-”

A pen smacked square on his face, He stares at you, unphased “That..” he continued. “Your humble knight has arrived to bring you home!~”

“Home!?” The jester laughed, “don't fret, I don't bite.. too hard!” He grabbed your shirt and yanked you towards your phone.

Everything was.. black, no light as you stared at the abyss before a sudden flash of colors blinded you. The birds chirp to one another as they fly above you. The light from the sun blinded your vision a bit before you adjusted. You glance around, noticing your surroundings.. are odd.

Everything smells so sweet. Too sweet for your liking.

The sounds of leaves rustling snapped you out of your daze, your attention instantly went towards the bushes. Looking around, spotting one that's moving.

Stepping a bit back away from the bushes you stayed quite, not daring to make noise and startled the.. whatever it was in the bush and attacked you. Carefully you picked up a nearby stick as a weapon, if it would do anything.

Something pounces out the bushes scaring you as you leap back and fall on your back. It barks as it approaches you and sniffs the air. You opened your eyes seeing it was just a cake hound.

Wait.. Cake hound!?

[yanderedrabbles]

What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[theoretically-questionable]

Ecstatic about how season 2 is apparently going because. Season 1 absolutely ganked me with the vast potential scope of its analogies.

Like. Just on a first watch, it resonated in like five different ways.

It was an exaggerated portrayal of what it feels like to carve out a separate "you" when you work a tiring, uninspiring job. How every day in the office feels like you never really left because you're just tired and flat outside of work so nothing happens. But also every time you're out of work it feels like you've always been sitting alone on the couch.

And also it felt like what I remember being a child can feel like (especially an autistic one). Everyone who has power over you is inscrutable. Their mood changes and you never really know why. You make them so angry sometimes just by existing or not understanding things that nobody ever really explained to you. Everyone assumes you exist to learn to be productive and should get on with that and nothing else. Sometimes people hurt you and that's just the way the world is. You depend on them and know nothing else, after all.

And of course it's about more than that. It's about what labour takes from us (family, connecting with our own children, self-expression), how it deliberately wants to render us helpless and insists who we are outside of work has to be left at the door. How even if we love and are good at a job, the structural forces at play of profit and labour heirachy are stealing from us.

It's about how capital-holders desperately want to convince labourers that they are lucky to work. That work gives their lives purpose, meaning. We're all just a big family, after all. Its about how the machine will use this affinity to prime you to despise or mock or shun or fear those who are trying to escape the very thing that's making you miserable.

And it's about offloading. It's about how money is power and power's goal is to offload every single bit of life that isn't immediately gratifying. It's about the invisible labour that supports all of society. It's about the griding gears behind a cukture that tries to convince every person, even those with little power, that they should be offloading. That life should be easy and maintenance-free by default. That you are entitled to a life free from upkeep labour and recurring, boring, tedious, inconvenient tasks, and if your life has any kind of maintenance in it, then that's a sign you have to work harder to find a way to offload it onto someone lower down than you so you can have that friction-free life you're owed. That highlight reel of a life.

And so far, every part of S2 seems to play off and expand on this all without narrowing scope. Augh. Eargh. Ough.

I just can't get over that after years of reddit speculation about how MDR's work must be 3-D printing brains into clones and putting souls in goats or whatever it turns out to just be...rich people trying to find a way out of the human experience. subjugating one or two or six people you will never meet to an existence of pure suffering so you don't have to be inconvenienced or feel a negative emotion ever. it could never have been anything else

[bbokicidal]

Who You Are | SKZ [B.C]

a new mini-series where I list some random head canons about the boys based on facts we know about them/can catch onto from media.

genre: fluff / tiny angst pairing: Bangchan x GN!Reader warnings: none

I just noticed there's some like. random facts/things the boys do/how they behave that aren't really talked about in fics on here so I'm doing a mini-series to fix that.

Chan | Lino | Changbin | Hyune | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Something more commonly known - This man is SUPER into hugs! Affection in general, but HUGS. Even if it's just hanging on you, he's always happy to be hugging you whether it's something casual and he's just holding on for fun - or if it's more intimate or even comforting. He just really, really likes having you in his arms whenever he can.

Please bake for him. Lix doesn't have a lot of free time these days so his baking duties go to you instead - especially when Chan is whining quietly to himself that the cookies he bought from the store are too hard for his liking. Make him soft cookies - the chocolate chip ones that are gooey, fall apart and melt on his tongue. He wants those types of cookies, please.~

His 'I need to be behind everyone so I can see where they're at' habit also goes for you as well. Whether you're with the group or on your own, Chan's always walking either right beside you or behind you. He loves holding your hand and being close to you of course but he almost prefers walking behind you sometimes because he can actually see you without having to turn his head or side eye you like he's judging whatever it is you're doing. He just needs to have you in his eyesight if you're out and about - who knows what could happen.

If you need something fixed - he's your guy! The boys have said before that Chan is a great mechanic when it comes to fixing wiring for electronics, if a TV or computer isn't working, even other household appliances. And when he's done fixing it all up, he'll organize the cords so that they're neat and aren't too tangled. He leaves it looking brand new every time, even if your television is almost 8 years old. (He gives it a little clean while he's there.)

Chan is wildly good at pretending that he isn't sick even if he is. Or, worse off, while he's injured. Sometimes he overdoes it while working out or maybe he just slipped up and dropped a weight or his wrist bent when he was boxing with Minho; Either way, he is too good at hiding the pain he's enduring. The only time he's open about it and vocalizes how much he's hurting is if it's something more severe; And even then you have to convince him to go in to get it looked at.

Man has a really hard time taking compliments. While you might think it's funny - the way he shies away from your words and gets pink in the cheeks - Chan finds it a little too much; Overwhelming, actually. He'll eventually ask you to maybe tone it down with the teasing, the over complimenting, etc - because while he does appreciate it all, it's just overstimulating for him. It makes his mind reel and whirl with thoughts of 'I need to continue being this accomplished because if I don't, I'll let them down.' and nobody likes having those thoughts plaguing their mind 24/7.

^ Instead of direct compliments that are detailed, i.e. "Chan, you looked so good today! Your hair looked incredible and the outfit you picked out was perfect!" - Chan would rather a simple, "You look really nice today." A simple, sweet acknowledgement of the effort he puts into things whether it be his work, outfits, dates, whatever - is plenty enough for him to feel praised and appreciated.

But while we're on the topic, he does get a little bit pouty if you don't acknowledge something he thought he put a lot of effort into. For example; There was a time he had picked out a new shirt just to match the one you wore for a little date-day he had planned for you and when you didn't notice, he got quiet and a pout settled on his lips until you asked him what was wrong.

The good news is, with this situation, Chan is extremely good at communication. He can tell you, without making you feel bad, that he feels a little unappreciated when you don't notice things he does either for you or with you - or even in general.

Chan also just loves feeling needed. He loves it when you seek him out for advice, to vent, or just to talk to. He thrives off of feeling like he is doing a service to people even if he's just sitting there and listening to you babble about something you got into recently and really like.

He is also quite the perfectionist. Not to the point of him needing to plan every little detail down to the T; But he does take everything into account especially if it has to do with his work. But -- this also applies to dates! He's going to plan your date as well as he absolutely can and he's going to do it in a way that almost prevents anything from going wrong.

That being said, he's also very respectful and willing to listen to anything you have to say, ever. Which means he's more than happy to hear you out with your own date ideas; You feed him your little date fantasies and in turn, he'll make them become your reality!

Chan's mood also determines the atmosphere most of the time. When he walks in the room and it's clear he's not having a great day, people tend to understand that it isn't a good time to pick on him or touch him. Most just give him space. You, though; You're one of the only people he'll ease up on if you come close or cuddle up to him. You're like a little exception.

Chan is a huge fan of Dreamcatcher! If he has the opportunity, he wants to go and see them - which is something you overhear while visiting the studio one day. You end up buying him a concert ticket as a birthday present, even though he probably could've gone for free being in the industry and all - but he highly appreciates it and is almost in tears with how much joy he feels when he sees the ticket. He can't help but ball up his fists and wave his hands around in excitement, eyeing the ticket so hard like he's afraid it'll disappear if he blinks or looks away.

Chan has a fascination and heavily enjoys - drones. He owns a few, or - use to - maybe just one now. Either way, he really enjoys getting to control them and watching them whip around when other people are in control instead. The first time he introduces you to his drone, which he has named (comment what you think he would name it), he insists you try to fly it on your own. When you're too nervous and afraid you'll break it, because it IS expensive, he waves off your worries and helps you control it with his hands laid over top of your own.

During a Trivia event held by the boys in Changbin & Hyunjin's apartment, Jeopardy style of course, Changbin asked a question in which contestants (you, Seungmin, & Jisung) had to name what program Chan uses for Producing. You ding the bell before Jisung has a chance - and Seungmin is completely clueless - and to Jisung's dismay, get the answer right. "Cubase!" Chan's eyes widen in surprise at your knowledge and though he isn't sure how you know that, he's flattered for some reason. Meanwhile, Jisung is clutching his hair in his hands and crying, "How do you even know that?!"

During one year for Christmas, Chan found himself being gifted with a brand new bottle of the Kilian "Back to Black" perfume. He instinctively turned to thank Jeongin, who grew confused as to why his Hyung was doting on him, before claiming he didn't gift that to him. Chan sits back deadpan and turns to look at you instead, where you're sitting next to Felix with a giggly grin. Chan knew you liked his cologne - he was well aware, as you were always huffing his scent when the two of you hugged - but he wasn't aware you knew the name of it. Unless you went snooping...

[lethalchiralium]

Simon is a liar.

Well, it’s not that he lies often, but he does do it and you have no idea unless it’s with the girls. Getting them to sleep by telling them that they’ll get candy in the morning instead of eggs, telling them the tooth fairy has the day off on Fridays, and even telling his toddler that he goes and saves puppies some days instead of the world. He lies, but not without reason.

But as he follows you around as you shop, he feels the need to lie. Tell you that you look good in an ugly color dress just to get you to laugh. Deny that your grip on his hand hurts. Say that he doesn’t want another leather jacket, even though he does. He wants the one you keep showing him - nice detailing, shiny silver zipper, and thick lining to keep him warm. One that wasn’t ripping at the seams, has cigarette burns, or holes that dotted its worn flank.

“Simon, please, I just want to buy something nice for you.” You say, looking at him with those sweet eyes and genuine care.

He hates himself at that moment when he lies.

“I’m alright with what I got.”

The nod of understanding, knowing that pushing will not get you far, distressed him. He knows he shouldn’t be this way, that he should bend at the knees every time you even begin a sentence. But the leather jacket is something he can’t do that for, and he can’t stomach telling you the reason.

You pull out pretty dresses and tops to show him, he always agrees with the ones that make your eyes pop. Your hand squeezes his every time you walk back and forth in this little boutique and he knows quite well that you’re purposefully passing this perfect leather jacket multiple times. Exposure therapy.

He doesn’t like upsetting you. He knows you want him to have nice things instead of the worn down clothes he has, but he cannot allow himself to have better things when the money should be going towards his children and their needs. He can go without a new leather jacket, even if you had saved over the course of a year for it. He’d rather buy Winnie the dollhouse she really wants, buy Mellie the beanbag she always has him look up online, maybe even something for the baby like a new high chair. He could buy you a nice ring with that leather jacket money, even though you’d say no.

In a way, you two are the same.

You finally stop the games and stand next to the jacket, hand squeezing his impossibly tight before loosening. “Do you not like it?”

“It’s nice.”

“Then try it on.”

He shakes his head. “No, ‘m okay with this. We can use the money on you.”

Your shoulders droop, his heart hurts, and you softly murmur, “Why aren’t you letting me do this for you?”

He feels the need to lie, the itch that takes hold of his throat and shakes it. His head dips down, his eyes level with yours. “Because this jacket means a lot to me. Don’t want to start over with a new one.” Another lie, it doesn’t mean a lot, it means everything.

You stare at him for a while, digging in his eye with such a disappointed glare. Stiff, aggravated, but still docile. “What’s so special about holes and torn seams?”

“I first met you with this on.” He confesses. “First met Winnie with this on. Mellie fits in a wrap in it like a glove, and it was Tommy’s.” His hand comes to rest on your bump where the baby kicks lazily, your forehead rests against his.

In the back corner of a shop, he tells the truth. Says a prayer as he kisses you, thanks God when you finally see the ratty jacket for what it truly is - a symbol of loyalty.

Another kiss pressed against his lips before you move away, your hand brushes his hair away from his forehead before cradling his jaw. “That’s all you had to say. No more lies.”

Simon is a liar, it’s sometimes all he knows. A second skin, a way to protect the keloids made from wounds he suffered forever ago. But when he looks in your eyes, cradles your belly that grows his baby with a ring on his hand that matches your own, and lets you in his marred head, he can’t bring himself to lie to you.

“No more lies.”