#he looked visibly taken aback i feel so bad

[domesticatedangel]

someone asked jensen if dean was a teen sex worker at the gold panel and oh my god??? how on earth are there people who think that’s appropriate wtf

[fluffylino]

worried!minho

minho wants to take away all your pain~

-contains mature themes

when were the cramps going to go. it was your second day of having your period. you had leaked through your pad and stained your clothes. now, you sat on the bed, swaddled up in a bedsheet while a random anime was playing on tv.

you were far too distracted to even pay attention to the dialogues. another sharp pain to your lower stomach. you huffed, wrapping your arms around your stomach. you curled up into a ball, adjusting your pad which had moved out of place.

minho's footsteps could be heard. he was busily moving about. from the kitchen, to the living room and then to check on you.

"how are you feeling, baby?" you jumped at the sudden appearance. he was standing beside you, looking at your bundled up figure with soft eyes. you let out a whine, lightly kicking your legs. you could hear his quiet laugh.

"mm' hurts" you mumbled, reaching your hand out. he took it, sitting close to you. he brushed your hair out of your face and leaned over you to take the remote. switching off the tv.

"still?" he seemed worried.

the thing was, it was rare for you to get cramps. you hardly ever got cramps that made you stay in one spot. on any other period you'd only feel a slight discomfort in your stomach. but today was different. you weren't used to it. and minho wasn't used to seeing you in such pain.

you looked at him through the bedsheets, only your eyes and mouth visible. his smile grew and he couldn't help but pat your head like you were one of his cats. which to him you were.

"i gave you a heating pad..we did some muscle relieving exercises and drank lots of water..what else could possibly work?" minho furrowed his eyebrows, his lips jutting out as he blinked. and blinked. and blinked-

"you know there is something that definitely works for sure. i was reading that orgasms help"

your eyes widened and then you slowly sighed.

well, that was true. but sex on your period would just end up looking like a crime scene. it made you feel confused. because yes, all the raging hormones were constantly at battle with your mind.

"but its icky and you'd probably find it...not so nice"

minho looked at you. "what makes you say i wouldn't like it?"

you were taken aback. did he really not mind?

"i don't think i want to do the...whole thing" you mumbled, shyly.

"so then should i try eating yo-" you screamed, pushing the bedsheet over him. shivering at how cold the room actually was.

"no no no" you chanted. that was not something you'd ever want to put him through, for the sake of your pleasure. you were aware of him. he didn't care about blood at all. in fact he was so chill about it. like the time you accidently stained his pants when you fell asleep on him.

he even washed out the sheets.

he ruffled around, throwing it on the ground. he scooted closer.

"should i finger you then, hm? that shouldn't be so bad, would it?" you nodded slowly.

"but what if i make a mess..again"

"i'll put a towel underneath"

"what if you get blood all over your fingers..."

"baby if i did mind it, i wouldn't have been so eager to suggest it"

he smiled. minho was ever so patient. always answering you with a reassuring statement whenever you fell down a spiral of unecessary thoughts.

"can you use gloves...?" you asked so softly, you had to repeat it for him to hear.

"whatever you want, baby. i recently just bought a whole new pack of gloves for when im marinating meat"

you smiled nervously.

"guess ill be using them to touch some other kind of meat" you pushed him off the bed. he gave you a sarcastic smile. your stomach doing flips at his expression.

.

you stood up, freezing when you felt a blood clot come out. there was no way you could do this. you finally decided on washing your lower body. so you did, carefully stepping out of the bathroom.

"take your pants off.." minho had come back, this time pulling the gloves up and over his wrists.

oh, so they were like the surgical gloves. the ones that fitted well...a little two well. his hands looked nice. they looked very nice in fact-

"what? you don't want the gloves? i don't mind" your eyes met his and doubt filled him. if only he knew what you were actually thinking about.

"i want it"

he had laid the towel down and you sat on it. you pulled your oversized shirt down, trying the cover up.

minho walked towards you, opting to sit behind you. his back resting against the headboard and your back to his chest. you felt a little exposed. he was fully clothed while all you wore was a t shirt.

you could feel his breath on your ear. minho's left hand rubbed on your stomach while his right hand slid between your legs.

he let out a surprised laugh. you knew you were wet. he could feel it. after seeing his hands in those latex gloves, you couldn't fight it.

"be a good kitty and open up for me"

you mewled at the nickname. lifting your knees up while he kept your legs open for him. he pushed a finger inside before slowly adding a second digit.

at this point you weren't sure if it was blood or slick or maybe both that leaked out onto his fingers.

"sorry" you apologized, you didn't even know why you were saying sorry. the pain in your stomach was the last the thing you were worried about.

"talk t-to me" you whispered, leaning into him. he lazily grazed his thumb over your clit while his digits pumped inside of you. with just enough pressure to not be too much for you.

"its okay, baby...you're doing so great, let me see how well you take my fingers" you moaned, as he pressed his palm against your heat. the latex feeling unusually nice. on your skin. and especially inside you.

"n-nice hands"

"yeah? you think my hands are nice? what do you like about my hands hm?"

he asked. he wasn't teasing you. he wasn't even joking about it. in fact he seemed to be curious. he wanted to feed into you.

"v-veiny..pretty and big...feels amazing inside of me" you answered back, bucking your hips when he added a third digit.

"you sure you aren't talking about my dick, kitten?"

"that even" you blabbered. letting him hook his chin on your shoulder. his breath hitched when you traced the veins on his forearms. they were so prominent. you wanted to lick them.

"that good, hm? who knew you'd be so attracted to my arms"

another warm sensation between your legs. his gloved fingers gliding in much smoother. you wanted to cringe at the sqelch it made every time he pushed in.

"you know, you have such a pretty little pussy, kitten?"

you blushed, trying to hide away from his comments. he nuzzled against your neck.

"i can't resist when it comes to you. i want to give you everything that i can"

willingly you parted your mouth, taking his other fingers in. he pressed down on your tongue. you sucked on them.

"you'll take anything i give you, won't you because you're my obedient princess"

[tired-biscuit]

hmmm thinking about bratty, shit disturbing omega reader telling alpha kiba 'ooo you wanna breed me so bad' during a petty argument when they're not even together and it resulting in him putting you in a non-con mating press.....

18+ MDNI, fem!omega!reader // cw: noncon, omegaverse, breeding, reader is in heat and kiba is MEAN about it.

wait, this is actually perfect; there’s just something about omegaverse and kiba that makes such a good combo every single time!

i’m thinking about him being your neighbour. he’s nice on the eyes but he’s also grouchy, not much of a talker, and always seems super tense whenever you bump into each other in the hallway or at the entrance leading into your apartment complex.

and when i say tense, i mean tense. your mailbox resides next to his, so if you by any chance come down to get mail at the same time as him, he’s clutching his bills with a white-knuckled grip and is storming right back upstairs and slamming his door shut with an unnecessarily loud thud before you’ve even finished sticking your key into the tiny lock.

while living so close to each other, you’ve tried being polite towards him on several occasions. have greeted him with a smile and a quick “morning!” or “hi!” even though all he did in response was grumble something under his breath and brush you right off. you even went as far as to ask him how his run went when he came back into the building drenched in sweat and with his cheeks flushed a pretty red one time, but to no avail. the face he pulled made him look like he was seconds away from telling you to fuck off.

all signs point to general dislike no matter what you do, so winning him over just for the sake of having a good relationship seems to be outright impossible. which is also a huge bummer because he lives right next door, and it’d be nice to have him on your side since it significantly lessens the chance of him nagging you when the music is a smidge too loud or whenever you have friends staying the night.

by the time several weeks had passed — hell, you’ve endured almost two months of this crap — and he was no closer to warming up to you, you’d given up. not only that, you also made sure to give him a taste of his own medicine: you got rid of the sweet girl attitude and instead started treating him the same way he treated you.

rudely.

so it’s no wonder that he appears to be absolutely fucking pissed when he shows up at your doorstep one day when you’re in the middle of suffering through one of your worst heats yet, banging on your door with an impatient fist and sporting the pushiest demeanor you’ve ever seen.

when you finally force yourself to get off the couch and open the door, the first thing you realise is that he’s so big that he fills the entire entrance. all muscle and raw, brutal power. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose.

the glare in his dark brown eyes is harsh as he immediately makes eye contact with you, and his lips press into a firm line. there’s a constant flutter of a muscle in his right cheek that he can’t seem to get rid of.

he doesn’t look happy.

and there’s an odd sinking feeling appearing in the pit of your stomach because of it.

“what do you want?” you ask, trying your best to breathe as little as possible through your nose. he smells like pure alpha, heavy and intense because of that wretched musk — a scent you definitely shouldn’t be in close vicinity of at this particular time.

“i want you to get the fuck out of this building already,” he snarls with zero hesitation, gripping the side of the doorframe so that he can shove himself even further into your space. “you’re stinking up the entire place with your omega bullshit and it’s making it hard to think.”

“ex-…” you blink slowly, taken aback by the jumble of insults he’s just thrown at you. “excuse me?”

“you heard me the first time,” he snips, baring his front teeth for a split second as he visibly cringes at you. his canines are sharp; it’s your first time noticing this since he sure as hell never smiled in your presence. “i’ve got work in the morning and i can’t relax when your scent is taking over the entire goddamn floor. either find someone to take care of your heat for ya and give that vibrator that you’ve been riding since last night a rest already, or move the fuck out.”

you stare at him, dumfounded and wide eyed just like the first time. he stares right back, with his jaw tightly clenched and his shoulders stiff.

and there’s just something about the way he looks at you now, about the way he looks now — so rugged and blatantly male and rough around the edges, that causes your panties to turn even slicker than they already are.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me… christ, are all of you omegas so freaking pathetic?” he mutters quietly as he watches you squeeze your thighs together.

you’re dressed in nothing but a pair of tiny panties and an oversized t-shirt since you planned to do nothing else but sit at home today and try to make yourself feel better. the thin piece of fabric is doing absolutely nothing when it comes to keeping the scent of your urges at bay.

kiba’s throat feels like it’s on fire. it makes it hard to speak when he says, “whatever, just- are you gonna do somethin’ about it or not?”

“no, i’m not.” in your disoriented, the-heat-has-outright-cooked-my-brain-and-turned-it-into-useless-mush state, you can’t help but say the first thing that pops into your mind, “i’ve got just as much of a right to be here as everyone else does, you know. and it’s not my fault that you can’t focus because your shitty alpha brain is telling you to breed me… so if that’s all, i’ll be kindly asking you to get off my doorstep. i have a toy i want to get back to.”

you go to slam the door shut right in front of his nose, only to be caught off guard when BAM! — he uses his hand to shove it right back open again.

oh, he’s definitely not used to omegas disrespecting him or acting bratty around him. because of it, he’s all up in your face in a matter of seconds, blood boiling underneath tan skin.

with every step he takes forward, you try to take one back, but it doesn’t take long for him to corner you. before you know it, he’s got you with your back against the wall. his cock is thick and heavy in his sweatpants, pressing against your thigh and exposing the fact that your heat is affecting him too, and you spring into action because of it, desperately fighting to create more distance between your body and his.

however, the problem is that he’s ended up standing so close to you that the proximity is practically non-existent. trying to shove him away is futile since he’s so much bigger than you that he looms over your smaller frame and keeps you caged between the wall and himself with no issue.

you don’t stand a chance against him.

“look at me.”

forced to act submissive by nature, you give in easily to his demand despite the fact that it takes all the effort in the world for you to even attempt to refuse it. so you lift your gaze like the good little omega that you are, and you come to learn that there are tiny summer freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose either.

mentioned bridge slightly scrunches with displeasure now as his hand moves to wrap around your throat. he leans in, his voice hoarse, “is anyone else in here with ya?”

“y-yes,” you stammer, upper lip wobbling because of the fastly upcoming tears that are threatening to fall any second now. you’re well aware that alphas can get aggressive whenever they slip into rut, so you and your big mouth have put yourselves in quite the predicament. and if anything, this particular situation is definitely good enough of a reason to cry about.

“don’t you dare fucking lie to me. that shit pisses me off.” he gives your neck a firm squeeze, enough to make you kick your feet against the floor in sheer, utter panic. a scared little voice in your head tells you that he could lift you right off the ground if he wanted to. or worse.

“no, n-no there isn’t anyone else here!” you squeak out. “it’s just me and my cat! m’sorry!”

his eyebrows draw together.

“what?” you ask warily, trying to calm him down by distracting him even though you’re well aware that he can smell how wet your pussy has become by now and that it’s making him lose more and more of his sense of morality. there’s just something about his touch… it’s so warm that it makes you want to arch your back, as unbelievable as that sounds. “is something the matter?”

“no,” he mutters, still looking unimpressed. god, do his features ever soften? “it’s just that i hate cats, is all… dogs are better.”

you make a mental note to remember this piece of information for whatever reason. what the fuck.

“anyway,” he continues before you can say anything. “let’s take care of your heat now. i have a game to watch later, so i wanna be done by six… unless you feel like warming my dick at my place, that is.”

“w-what?” you freeze, cold sweat rushing over you. one tear falls, sliding down your much too feverish cheek and you sniffle. “no, wait-”

“yeah, yeah, you don’t want it, blah blah blah,” he brushes you off so carelessly that it makes your pulse begin to hammer inside your ears. “and yet you’re still soaking wet between your legs and feeling like you’ll die if i don’t shove my cock inside ya this very instant. spare me with the poor, helpless omega crap, sweetheart... you ain’t foolin’ nobody.”

he’s looking directly into your eyes again, completely shameless and with zero remorse, and you’re so turned on by it that your clit is throbbing. it’s making you slightly nauseous.

“i…” you swallow thickly, trying not to think about the amount of saliva that’s gathering in your mouth. “i don’t-”

without a single warning, he presses himself against you in a way that instantly makes you buck your hips towards him in search for more friction. when he begins to draw back, you act before thinking; grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and frantically tugging him closer.

“see, i told ya,” he purrs, cruel satisfaction evident on his face as he watches you struggle. “you need me.”

he’s right. god-fucking-damn it, he’s right. the urgency to have an alpha like him inside you has gotten so bad by now that you can barely stand. if it weren’t for his hand that he’s still got wrapped around your throat, you’re pretty sure you’d already be laying on the floor by now.

and that is exactly where you end up.

on the floor, naked, manhandled into a mating press and forcefully stuffed full with his cock. moaning like a slut, sweating like crazy and crying at him to stop, to fucking stop stop STOP, even though you’re the one who’s reaching out, desperately trying to cling onto him and keep him inside.

the sounds your pussy is making whenever he sinks in to the hilt is fucking embarrassing. you’re so wet, practically delirious with want, twitching and whining when he hits that sweetspot deep inside you. you don’t even know his first name, so you’re just babbling nonsense, clawing at his strong arms in meek attempt to punish him.

“open your legs wider f’me.”

the desire to spread your legs further for him even if he’s literally the meanest piece of shit of a man is making you feel disgusting, but you just can’t stop yourself from obeying. your body wants him, it yearns for him, and it’s making your hormones go batshit crazy.

“that’s it, sweetheart.” he pants above you as he praises you, back arching and bicep flexing when he places one hand on your belly. “trying to be such a good girl for your alpha, huh? gonna do just about anythin’ to get me to knock ya up.”

your sobbing intensifies when he presses into the bulge his cock makes underneath your skin.

it’s the first time you see him smile.

[mattsnight]

Summary: in which Chris can’t hide his feelings for Y/N any longer.

Warnings: cursing !!

WC: 5k+++

Chris hated how he felt for you. The extreme feelings were overwhelming and it was hard keeping them together. He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live knowing you were his best friend and that nothing would ever happen with the two of you.

You were always the clingy kind of type. You couldn’t be alone for more than 24 hours and always had to be with someone who you loved. Most of the times it was Chris, which he didn’t mind at first, but when his feelings for you started, it all became a lot.

You came over to the triplets’ house today, since Chris hasn’t been answering your calls. You were really worried about him. When you walked into the house you were met with an angry Chris. He didn’t want you here at all. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt him to do this shit to you, but he needed these feelings gone. And there it was, he was bottling up all his feelings and is now taking it out on you.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you?” You say to Chris as he just ignored you when you tried giving him a simple hug. He never did this, he would always hug you even when he was annoyed. He lets out a huff, rubbing his eyes as he glances in your direction.

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. It's you, you're just always around being clingy, I can't even breathe without you being all over me. Seriously, do you have to be so clingy? Give me a break every once in a while," Chris bites back with a roll of his eyes. A small gasp leaves your mouth at his sudden anger. “What the hell happened to you, chris? At first you’re all nice and sweet to me and now you’re acting like a huge dick.”

Chris grits his teeth, turning to look you in the eyes a lot sharper than usual. "So now it's wrong that I've decided to give myself a break from your clinginess? Is that a crime now?" He quips, raising a brow at you unimpressed. "God, you're always so needy, you can't even go half a day without wanting my attention. Have you ever considered that maybe I'd want alone time?”

“I was giving you one hug, chris. I wasn’t sat on your lap touching your chest while waiting for you to fuck me!” You yell back, anger now running through your body. Chris is visibly taken aback by your words, the harsh bite of them makes his chest ache, but he can't focus on that right now. He lets out an annoyed huff, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. "You always hug me!" He points out, throwing his arms out. "Like, it's never just one hug, you're always all over me, no matter if we're alone or in public. It's like you can't stand the thought of not being attached to me or something!"

“Im not always hugging you! I was so excited to see you, is one hug that bad?” You say, running your hands through your hair. "And there it is again, the excuses!" Chris exclaims in annoyance. "You're always all over me, you've gotta touch me. You know I'm not the biggest fan of physical touch, so why are you always so clingy with me, huh, can you answer that?" He asks, raising a brow at you with an expectant expression on his face.

“Because we’re friends? Cus i enjoy being with you? Because maybe im trying to get our friendship back!” Yeah, that one hurt. It had been a while since you and Chris had hung out. At first you thought it was because he got a girlfriend, but he didn’t, Nick told you that.

"And you need to cling to me to do that? You need to be attached to me at all times to do that, is that it?" Chris asks, clearly still frustrated and a little on edge. "It's annoying. I'm allowed to want my own goddamn space every once in a while, why's that so hard for you to understand? I just want a little space to breathe, alone, without having you sticking yourself to me like glue."

Fuck, why did it have to go like this? You hated this and you knew he did too. There was hurt smashed on both of your faces, but the both of you didn’t stop. “Then tell me to shut up, leave and never come back!” You say, a voice crack slipping through. Chris's eyes widen slightly, his mouth going slightly agape at your words, his heart beating loud in his chest. He did not see that coming. "What?" He asks, a hint of surprise sneaking into his voice. “Tell me to leave, end our friendship and do whatever the fuck you want without me.” You repeat with a voice crack.

Chris's jaw clenches, his chest feels tight and his stomach sinks at your words. Every fibre of his being wanted to scream at you to shut up, to stay with him forever. He did not want you gone, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to tell you. "I don't want-" he tries to protest, swallowing hard and averting his gaze. "I don't want that."

“Then what do you want, Chris?!”

"You!" His eyes widen the moment the word escapes his mouth, he didn't mean to say that, he meant to say anything other than that. He clamps his mouth shut, staring at you with a mix of shock and frustration. “What?” You say quietly, not believing that you heard him right.

"I- nothing, I... nothing, forget I said that," he runs his fingers through his hair, cursing himself inwardly. This did not get better. "I just... I think, maybe, we should just have some time apart for a while. Take some space, I'll be fine without you glued to my side, you'll be fine without me around all the time." His voice stays the same, not even a slight change.

“You said me.. chris.. what does that mean?”

"I said nothing, alright?" Chris snaps, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue, but it was too late. He couldn't lie his way out of this now. He lets out a huff, scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you with a frustrated expression on his face. "Damnit... you weren't supposed to hear that."

You take a small step back at his snap. It wasn’t because you were scared, you wanted to give him space. His expression softens just the slightest as he sees you take a step back, his heart panging in his chest as he registers the hurt in your eyes. He shakes his head in defeat. "No, I... Damnit, I can't... Look, I can't do this right now." He runs a hand through his hair again, turning his back to you and walking a few moments. Clearly he was frustrated and upset about the whole situation. “Chris—“ you try, but he doesn’t want to talk.

"Just don’t." He bites, his voice low as he keeps his back turned to you. He clearly wasn't in the mood to keep the conversation going. He was upset, and in pain, and he knew he was hurting you as well. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew he was, and that was so much worse in his mind. “Please just talk to me, Chris. I want to understand what is going on.”

"What is there to talk about, huh?" Chris turns to look at you again, eyes sharp and his muscles coiled tight with tension. "What are we supposed to talk about? I said something I wasn't supposed to, I can't take it back, so what do you want me to say? I don't want to talk about it, not like this, not right now."

He is still staring at you, his expression pained and frustrated. It was like he was trying to hold back so many things, trying desperately to keep them all at bay and yet they were so obvious on his face. "And what was that little stunt anyway, huh? Trying to get a reaction out of me, is that it? Well great, you got one. You did what you set out to do, I screwed up. I said something I shouldn't have said. Happy?"

Your eyes start filling up with pain. It wasn’t your intention to do this. You didn’t mean any of it, you just wanted a reason why you’re losing your best friend. Chris's heart clenches within his chest at the sight of your hurt expression. The sharp pang of guilt and regret hits him hard, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. "You wanted a reaction, and you got it. I'm human. Do you think you can just prod and poke at me all the time and I won't snap back?" He bites, narrowing his eyes at you despite the panging in his heart. “Im sorry, okay?…” you say.

"You're sorry, is that it? You're sorry?” Chris snaps, taking a step closer as he towers over you. His face is a mixture of anger and pain, despite the growing guilt at the expression on your face. “You're sorry? Great, that just fixes everything, doesn't it? You didn't mean to make me snap, didn't mean to prod and poke at me until I exploded, but that's fine because you're sorry now, right?" All his anger is aimed at you when you just tried to fix something broken. You don’t dare to speak, scared you’ll ruin it even more.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," he continues, his voice still sharp and bitter. "You can apologise all you want but it's not gonna change the fact that you got exactly what you wanted out of me. You pushed me to the limit, and you got a reaction. So don't bother apologising, it's too late for that." He says, letting out a frustrated huff while scrubbing his face with his hand as anger and guilt clash together in his mind. He wants to yell at you, wants to scream at you and let it all out, but at the same time the sight of your hurt expression is killing him. "Goddamnit.." he mutters under his breath, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“I should go home.. this isn’t gonna work.” You finally say, breaking the silence. "Yeah... maybe you should," Chris responds, but the moment the words escape his mouth he wishes he could take them back. His heart is panging against his chest, his stomach clenches with guilt at the idea of you leaving. He didn't want you to go anywhere, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted you to not look so hurt and upset, but he'd gone and made it all worse in his anger.

You grab your bag quickly after his respond, ready to leave. Chris can’t take this anymore, he needs to make this right. He needs to talk to you. His heart drops to his stomach as you reach for your bag, the reality of the situation hitting him hard as he watches you get ready to leave. "Just... just wait," he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can even think about it. "Please don't go. I... shit.”

He falters, his breath catching as he tries to find the right words. "I... look, just... just sit down, alright?" He asks, his voice suddenly much softer and more vulnerable than before. He wanted you to stay. He couldn't stand the thought of you leaving right now, he needed you to stay. He swallows hard, forcing out the next words as his heart pounds in his chest. "Please just... just sit down. We need to talk, not like this. Just... just sit down and listen to me. Please."

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” You ask, sitting down on the couch to listen to him. "I don't know!" Chris exclaims, frustration and annoyance rising in his voice again. Why does it have to be so difficult? He should've just kept his mouth shut in the first place, he'd made a huge mess and he knew it. "I don't know why it has to be so... so difficult." He repeats, softer this time. "I don't... I just don't know." He scrubs his face with his hand, gritting his teeth and taking a deep, calming breath.

“What happened between us?” You ask, wanting answers. Chris's heart pang's in his chest again at your question. A million answers could've come to his mind, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he clenches his jaw, sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I don't know," he repeats again, his frustration growing. "I... I don't know, things just... changed."

He runs his fingers through his hair, raking his brain for the right words to say, the right way to explain things without saying too much. "I can't explain it. Things just... look, it's just so complicated." He glances at you, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He looks away again quickly, sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Things just aren't how they used to be. Something changed... and it's all wrong now."

“Does it have anything to do with you saying that you want.. me?”

Chris visibly tenses, his breathing catching in his chest as the memory of his earlier words comes back to him. He swallows hard and nods, his heart thudding against his ribcage. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice strained. "It has... everything to do with that." He says before looking up at you again, his expression pained and his eyes full of anguish. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he explains, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to hear that. I didn't want you to know."

“But you said it, what does it mean?”

Chris takes a deep breath, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it's all he can hear. He knew he was in too deep now, there was no backing out. "It means exactly what you think it means," he mutters, his voice low and heavy. "I... I want you. I want you." He couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but now they were out there in the open and he couldn't take them back. His eyes search your face, looking for a reaction, a response, any sign of how you felt at his words, but he couldn't find it. "I... I want you," he repeats, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I've wanted you for a long time, and it's been killing me. I... I've messed it up, I know I've messed it up and I can't take it back, but it's the truth. I want you. I need you."

“Jesus christ, Chris.. we could’ve talked about this sooner without that arguing.” You groan as waves of mixed feelings wash over you. Chris lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs his hands through his hair again. "You think I wanted to argue with you? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I didn't want to deal with this, I didn't want to admit this." He sighs deeply, his heart panging in his chest as he meets your gaze. "I'm an idiot," he mutters, his voice quiet. "I just ruined everything, didn't I?"

“No chris— god.. i am in love with you too.”

Chris's heart stops in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as your words wash over him, a rush of emotions surging through him at your confession. His eyes widen, his heart thudding so hard against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. He just stares at you for a moment, like his brain isn't quite comprehending what he's just heard. "You... what?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, chris..” you say. Those three words hit Chris like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending his heart into overdrive. He didn't think he'd ever hear those words from anyone, especially not from you. His expression softens, a mix of surprise and wonder and disbelief on his face as he takes a cautious step towards you, like he's afraid he might shatter whatever fragile dream he's suddenly found himself in. "You... you mean that?" He asks, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yes! I have for a long time, but i didn’t know how to feel when you just.. stopped talking to me.”

A wave of emotions washes over Chris at your words. Relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another step closer to you. "You... you love me?" He repeats, his voice a little shaky as he tries to process everything. "You love me?" He takes one more step towards you, his expression full of hope and awe. You look up at him, noticing he was already staring at you. His blue eyes are searching your face for any sign of dishonesty or deception. Instead, all he sees is love, and a whole lot of it. His heart is beating so hard in his chest it physically hurt, but he didn't care. All he could see was you, and the fact that you just confessed to loving him. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly putting a hand on your waist, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he moves too quickly.

And there it was, the kiss you’ve both longed for. It feels like a switch is flipped inside the two of you. Like you’re finally free. Your hands move to his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move to your ass, letting them rest there. Everything is how it’s supposed to be.

When the kiss finally breaks, Chris's expression is a mixture of wonder and shock, like he can't believe that just actually happened. His heart is pounding in his chest, his brain struggling to process what's just happened. He couldn't believe that you actually wanted him, that you loved him. He lets out a breathless laugh, his face still so close to yours that he can feel your breath on his face. “Shit that was so good.” He says, trying to get some air. Oh and it was good.

It was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

The end<3

Oh my god why is this sooo long :,) i hope yall liked it!

[weneepie]

HEYYY !! I have a request 😼what about reader who want to go out late a night to ser her friend having a hatd time without warning jason and suddenly jason come back of patrol more earlier and scold her , but reader is upset about jason reaction , but jason just want to protect her …

worried w/ red hood rules | m.list

note. hiii! thank you sm for your request omg i love jason sm of course i'd do that ; worried jason is adorable, my boy is doing his best <3 feel free to request anything else!

You were supposed to be here. He left you alone in your apartment before he left for his night patrol. So why weren’t you here anymore? Where were you? Jason thought he was about to go crazy. He was searching everywhere, calling your phone, but you weren’t answering at all.

Yes, he came back earlier than usual, but it wasn't a reason to disappear, was it? What if something bad had happened while he was gone? Jason was making the worst scenarios in his head. Until he heard the sound of the door opening. He turned around and you arrived in the living room, a bit surprised. 

You didn’t have the time to say anything that Jason was standing in front of you, a visible frown across his eyebrows. “Where the hell were you?!” His voice was too loud, too angry ; you didn’t like that at all. You slowly raised an eyebrow at his tone, feeling the slight irritation growing inside of you. 

“My friend needed me, so I left to see her.” You explained but it didn’t calm Jason at all. “You know Gotham’s not safe at night. What if you got attacked, or worse?” He was clearly angry, but it simply made you angry too. You weren’t a child, you didn’t need him to act like he was your own father. 

“Quit yelling at me, would ya?” Your tone was harsh, and it caught him off guard. He wasn’t so used to any reaction like this from you, so he was taken aback. He was about to answer when you pointed at his chest, looking into his eyes. “I don’t need you to protect myself, Jason. I’m a grown adult!” And in those words, you left the living room to get locked up in the bathroom. You really needed a shower. 

Jason stayed alone in here, standing up and a bit lost about what just happened. Did he get too far? He knew you were strong enough to defend yourself ; he loved you for that. But he couldn’t help it ; he was always worried when he knew you were alone in the streets at night. He meant what he said: Gotham wasn’t safe at all, and he knew what he was talking about. 

He saw so many people get hurt without any reason, and he was just so scared to lose you. Anger was his only way to express those feelings, but making you mad was the last thing he ever wanted. So he sat on the couch and waited for you to get out of the bathroom. It took you long minutes, and he was almost falling asleep. Or at least, he would have if he wasn’t thinking so much about what he wanted to tell you. 

When you joined the living room again, your gaze met his figure and you rolled your eyes. You sat next to him in silence, hating this stupid sad look on his face. You hated to see it, but he needed to understand what was wrong. Jason took your hand softly in his. “Look at me, please… I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to react like this.” You turned around, meeting his eyes ; and he knew he wasn’t lying. There was too much sincerity in it for that ; you knew him by heart. 

You stayed silent, waiting for him to keep going for a moment. He breathed out softly, leaving a gentle kiss against your knuckles. “I was just… worried. I’m always so scared when you’re alone out there. I know you’re strong ; but those guys can be crazy.” And how could you blame him? You knew Jason got through hell because of one of them. You finally completely turned to face him, grabbing both his hands between yours. 

“I’m not angry because you’re worried. I am because you yelled at me like I was completely dumb and not careful.” He slowly nodded at your words, understanding that he didn’t react the way he should have. Your hand gently moved to his cheek so you could stroke it with your thumb so slightly. Jason leaned onto your touch, eyes now closed at the feeling. 

You felt like home for him, and he’d rather die than having to lose this feeling once more. He left a soft kiss against the palm of your hand, making you smile lightly. “I’d be careful with my reactions,” he told you, looking back at your eyes. You leaned forward a little, leaving a small peck against his lips. “And I won’t leave without telling you where I am.” 

A silent agreement, so things could work. Jason was making so many efforts for you, all the time ; the less you could do was to do some efforts too. Moreover, Jason was clearly worth it. The boy needed a comfort and safe place to calm his home ; and you were ready to be this for him.

thank you!!

[donutz]

OOOO SEBASTION SOLACE X CYBORG READER WHO’S A RECKLESS, LAIDBACK ADRENALINE-JUNKIE??? :DDDDDDDDD

PRETTY PLEASEEEEE

(also do u write for block tales by chance :>)

HEHEHEHWHAHGAGAGAHRRTHG

Sebastian Solace x cyborg! reader

The Sun and the Moon

— I do in fact not write for Block Tales, but I've played it before! I also apologize for taking long to get this out, I was with my best friend for a few days ^_^

Warnings: If you want to know how Reader looks then their head is like this and their body is like this; It doesn't have to be your exact body shape, but that's just how it looks; No, the body doesn't give you your gender, you're always gender neutral in my fanfics(Unless specified in a request); Reader is 11'8, I used a wheel for that

‘Wow this place is bigger than I thought’.

You looked around, the sound of your super cool boots clanking against the ground with a deeper sound. Your (To humans) heavy right arm swinging while your left hand is gripping your hip.

Your head turning to the left and right, with a grin on your face.

“Cool!” You shouted, making a surprised face with cartoon-like pursed lips.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud”.

The speakers cut on, a man’s voice booming throughout the site. With a slight jump, you look up at the ceiling.

‘Hm, that’s uhh. Dark’.

“Continue to move on towards the marked path”.

“What marked path?” You looked down at the floor, seeing a line of green pipes. “I don’t think that’s the path but okay”.

You wonder how that man even saw you, you’re not even a prisoner here. Well— You currently aren’t a prisoner.

Not anymore.

You’re quite the tall figure, so you had to crouch to get through the door. You found whatever was in the rooms fascinating!

At times you would run too fast and accidentally run into a wall. Being clumsy and ignoring every scream of pain. Sometimes bumping your head under a desk.

“I mean— confident chuckle, Yeah I could probably bust a pipe or two but it’s not even that bad! Just a wrench is all I need”!

“... Where could I even get a wrench”?

Door after door it was starting to get boring, minus that green shark that swam in front of the windows. 

You were pretty bored, until you stepped upon a room that was a mix of bright and dark.

‘Wow it’s even more boring in here’.

You let out an annoyed, bored, and loud sigh, exaggerating your boredom.

In the middle of your.. Sound— A vent grille shot to the other side of the room, falling into the endless hole that was on your right.

The sudden movement stops you from your groaning, your abnormal senses going through the roof.

Suddenly you can fully feel the ground beneath your feet, you can hear the distant sounds of the man from the speaker.

And suddenly you’re intrigued by what’s in the vent.

“Hey, come here”.

A wide smile spreads through your face, maybe you can find another being like you down here! Human or not, you still want to see what’s over there.

After squeezing through the tight vents, you look around the room, not seeing much.

Dang it.

You knew it would’ve been better if you had night vision!

I mean come onnn, a cat has night vision! You should too!

A light flickers on, seemingly not one from the tall ceiling. Because of the new light, your iris(Including pupils) zoom in and out.

You look up at the source of light, seeing a man, yet not a human. Maybe an experiment like you!  ██████ is where you came from. Not Urbanshade or whatever it is.

He seems to cut himself off because of your looks.

You don’t look weird right?

It could be because he’s never seen a cyborg before, that’s normal to be surprised! To be surprised at your adjusting eyes and visible pipes. 

After a few seconds of silence, you spoke up.

“Why’d you stop speaking?” You climbed out of the vent, (unnecessarily) stretching your limbs.

“I thought you were introducing yourself”?

He looked up at you, taken aback even more, from your very tall height. He immediately looked back down, tucking his side bangs behind his fins.

“W- Well I was, before I saw.. You”.

“What?! Did I shock you?! Take you by surprise?! Why thank you Sebastian”!

Oh, so you were paying attention.

You put your hands on your hips, with a smile on your face, turning your head in directions to look even more around the shop. Now that you can see.

“This is really cooolll!! You set this up?” You asked, turning back to him.

He looks downwards, his side bang falling back into his vision. Which made him quietly groan with a tch sound.

“Yes, I did. Anyways if you want to buy anything, don’t give me real cash. Currency in this shop is the data found within the drawers or lockers.” He explained, attempting to pin his side bang back only for it to fall again.

You let out an understanding noise, pulling out something from your bag.

Sebastian heard the rustling sound, and looked back at you. His (invisible)eyebrow raised out of interest.

“I have this hair clip, chuckle, I don't know why I have this since I don’t have any hair. But I want to give it to you, your side bangs seem to keep bothering you”!

You held out the white hair clip in your hand, waiting for him to take it.

“... What”?

“Uh. What do you mean ‘what’? I’m giving this to you! Y’know, for your continuously falling bangss”??

“That’s not what I meant, I mean why are you giving this to me? I just met you”.

“Oh um, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s a gift!! Take it”!

He doesn’t end up taking it from your hand, staying quiet.

“Alrighty! I’ll just place it on the desk.” Comically, an exclamation mark appears by your head, seeing the document on the table.

You point at it, looking at Sebastian.

“This yours”?

“Yes– It’s 1000 data though, so I’m not sure if you’ll be able to buy it”.

“Uhh, I’ll check in my bag”.

You dug into your bag, finding two shiny blocks.

“Here,” You hand him the two blocks, “My system tells me this is equal to 1000 data”.

His mouth hangs partly open, a few blinks, and he takes the data from your hands. He checks out the blocks, looking at them from different angles.

You take the documents and almost open it, oh yeah, consent. That’s a thing that everybody needs to be concerned about.

“Are you okay with me reading this in front of you”?

He looks at you, confused.

“What”?

“That’s your second what of the day. Do you give me your consent to read this in front of youuu”!!

“.. Yes that’s fine”.

It’s like you glowed from your smile, looking back at the file.

After a few minutes, you close the thin folders.

“I find it cool that you’re an experiment too”.

.. THAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU SAY??

He would’ve thought you’d talk about him killing somebody, or- or the fact that he was once a human.

Wait did you say too?

“I mean– I wasn’t a human but I am an experiment. I wasn’t made by Urbanshade though I was made by  ██████. I’m glad we have something in common”.

Your mood switches in a second.

“THAT’S REALLY COOL!! YOU GOT ANYMORE INFORMATION YA WANNA TELL ME?! I WANNA HEAR”!!!

“I MEAN, I WOULD KILL THOSE SCIENTISTS TOO IF I WERE YOU.  HAH! YOU’RE SO COOL!! CAN WE BE FRIENDS”?!?!

Oh goodness.

I tried to fit in the adrenaline junkie at the end, I completely forgot about it.

[hsunrry]

teacher // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,3k

tropes: teacher!harry x teacher!reader

warnings: smut18+, fingering, handjob, degradation, praise, protected sex, size kink

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you went into the direction of the classroom, like everyday. only few more lessons of watching him, before you become ‘official’ teacher. you walked in without knocking, spotting him already sitting at the desk. he looked at you.

“wow, y/n, you’re not late. congratulations.” he mumbled, taking his eyes off you to some paperwork. you rolled your eyes, taking a sit in front of his desk, like you always do. you took some papers from your bag, preparing for lesson. after the bell rings, students started walking into the classroom. he automatically smiled warmly at them, saying ‘good morning’ when everyone sat on their places. you hated that. especially, when he was so sweet and loving for the students. so warm and open. but for you? harsh and cold. it’s not like you were thinking about it, but, well… you were. for some reason it was painful for you, maybe because he was so damn attractive and you were so smitten. he started his lesson, you were watching him and listening what he was saying. you’d lie if you say you wasn’t looking at how visibly big he was. even if he wasn’t hard, the bulge in his pants was just huge. you bite you lower lip slightly, thinking about him taking you on his-

“y/n.” his voice snapped you back from your thoughts. you looked at him. “you’ll be a teacher soon, but remember i’m the one deciding if you’re ready for that. why are you not listening?” he said, somehow not that cold like usually. it was probably because there were students around.

“i- i’m sorry, it’s just…” it’s just that i was thinking about your dick.- you thought to yourself. “i’m sorry.” he shook his head, going back to teaching. you had a bad day for some reason already, if him being so harsh wasn’t enough. you focused this time on his teaching, not letting your dirty thoughts about him slip to your head again. finally, the bell signaled the end of the classes.

“y/n, stay.” he said, before you could leave. you turned around, walking closer to him. he was standing next to his desk, waiting for everyone else to get out of the classroom. when they did, he leaned on the desk. “where were you today?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, looking nervously at him.

“not focused at all, why?” his eyes cold. you swallowed quietly.

“i’m sorry, i’m just…” you started quietly.

“you’re just what?” he snapped. “you’re just so fucking useless, that’s what you are!” he yelled, looking directly at you. you flinched, taken aback by his sudden reaction. you bite inside of your cheek, feeling your eyes burning from incoming tears. you quickly left the classroom, leaving him alone. he immediately felt bad. his face softened and his fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. he took few deep breaths, before leaving to talk to you. in meantime tears started rolling down your face silently. you walked into your future classroom, closing doors behind you. you sat on your chair, leaning your arms on the desk and hiding your face in your hands. it wasn’t big deal and you knew that. for some reason tears were falling down your face. you heard doors opening, so you quickly whipped your face with your hands. you looked into that direction, seeing him standing next to now closed doors. his face visibly guilty. he approached you, crouching down to be almost at the same level as you. “i didn’t mean to yell at you and said that. i was mad at myself and i let it out on you. i shouldn’t and i’m sorry.” he said quietly. his voice was soft. you looked at him, whipping tears from your face.

“why are you like that towards me? why are you always so cold and harsh? you don’t like me that much?” you whispered, looking into his eyes. he licked his lips slightly, thinking about something. after few long seconds he spoke again.

“i do like you. more than i should actually. that’s why i’m like that.” he confessed and you looked at him confused. “i thought that if i’m gonna be like that towards you, it will pass eventually. it was stupid. i’m sorry.” he reached up with his hand to cup your cheek. his touch was so gentle you could melt.

“i was thinking about you fucking me today, that’s why i was unfocused on classes.” you said like it was nothing, but his eyes widened. his breath visibly quickened. suddenly, he stood up, lifting you in one swift motion and placing you on your desk. his lips quickly found yours in needy kiss. you froze for a second, but quickly registered what was happening, kissing him back. his one hand on your cheek and the other grabbing your waist possessively. your hands quickly went to the button of his jeans, making him groan into the kiss. his hand from your cheek went under your skirt, putting your panties aside and pushing two fingers inside immediately. you moaned into his lips when he started moving in and out.

“so fucking wet, my god.” he gasped against your mouth. your hands managed to push down his jeans along with his boxers. he started kissing your neck while still fingering you. he reached with his free hand to the back pocket of his jeans, that was half way down on his thighs and grabbed condom, tossing it on the desk next to you. your hand wrapped around his huge dick, stroking him slowly. you felt him twitching in your hand at your touch. “fuck.” he gasped into your neck. his hips pushing into your hand for more friction. he pulled out his fingers, quickly licking them from your juices. both of his hands went to unbutton your shirt, exposing your chest in bra. his breath hitched when he saw the clasp on the front. “this is just perfect.” he mumbled, quickly unclasping it. your naked breast on display for him. “you’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” he licked his lips, immediately going to kiss and suck on your breast. you gasped, feeling him sucking on your nipple. he grabbed condom, opening it quickly and rolling it down his length. his hand gripped your hips, pulling you more on the edge of the desk. he lined himself with your slick entrance, looking into your eyes. “i never wanted someone that much in my entire life.” he kissed your lips softly, pushing inside. you moaned into his lips, feeling him filling you completely. his thick length stretching your walls perfectly.

“jesus christ.” you gasped. his lips against yours. you could feel his hot breath when he gripped your hips, moving slowly.

“you feel so good, you have no idea.” he pulled your lower lip with his teeth. you moaned when he started moving faster. your hands went on his shoulders to support yourself somehow when his thrusts became even faster. you tilted your head back from pleasure. “you’re so pretty like that, fucking god.”

“just like that.” you gasped, feeling your orgasm approaching. he was panting against your lips. “i’m so close.”

“let go, sweetheart. you’re so good for me.” he pecked your lips, moving even faster. you closed your eyes, clenching at his dick already. he moaned, gripping your hips tighter.

“fuck, yes!” you gasped when you finished. your body shaking slightly from intense pleasure. he fucked you through your orgasm, feeling himself emptying into the condom right after. he groaned into your lips. his cock throbbing inside you. he kissed your lips, stopping his movements completely.

“i’m a goner for you, baby.” he smiled into the kiss.

[joannechocolat]

On Power, and on Powering Through, and Why They’re Really Not the Same

I don’t pay much attention to personal attacks in reviews. It comes as the flipside of success; an attempt by the critic to puncture what they see as too much success. But I still remember one review, just after the film of Chocolat, when two of my novels happened to be in the Top 5 at the same time, in which a (male) newspaper critic referred to me dismissively as a premenopausal woman writer. I was a little taken aback. Clearly, it was meant to disparage, but I was only 35, ten years away from the perimenopause. What exactly did he mean? It wasn’t a comment about the book (which I doubt he had even read). The obvious misogyny aside, it seemed to express resentment, not of my books, but of me, myself, my right to take up space in his world. That word – premenopausal – was at the same time a comment on my age, my looks, my value, and a strong suggestion that someone like me shouldn’t be this successful, shouldn’t be writing bestsellers, shouldn’t be so – visible.

I don’t recall the name of the man, or the paper for which he was writing. He was far from being the only journalist who felt I didn’t deserve success. I shrugged off the unpleasant comment, but he’d meant it to hurt, and it did. I still wonder why he – and his editor - thought that was appropriate. I also wonder why, 20 years on, women are still dealing with this kind of thing. It’s still not enough for a woman to be successful in her chosen field. Whatever her achievements, you can be pretty sure that at some point, some man in his 50s or 60s – maybe an Oxbridge graduate, author of an unpublished novel or two - will offer his opinion on her desirability, either in the national Press, or most likely nowadays, by means of social media. The subtext is clear: women who don’t conform to societal values of what a woman should be are asking for this kind of treatment; especially those who dare to achieve more than their detractors.

10 years after that nasty review, I finally began the journey into perimenopause. No-one told me it was happening. No-one in the media was talking about it at the time. Even my doctor never thought to mention that my symptoms – the insomnia, headaches, mood swings, anxiety, depression, sleep paralysis, hair loss, brown patches on my skin – might have a single origin. I began to feel I was losing my mind: as if I were starting to disappear. I started to doubt my own senses. I blamed it all on the stress from my job. My mother had powered through menopause – or so she led me to believe – and made no secret of her contempt for modern women who complained, or treated the symptoms as anything more than a minor inconvenience.

And so I did the same. I powered through; and when at last I began to experience the classic symptoms of menopause - irregular bleeding, hot flushes, exhaustion, night sweats so bad that I would awake in sheets that were wringing wet – it did not occur to me to seek help. After over a year of this, I finally went to my doctor, who took a few tests, cheerfully announced I was menopausal, and when I inquired after HRT, advised me to power through – that phrase again - and let Mother Nature take her course. The internet was slightly more helpful. I took up running, lost weight, cut down on alcohol, downed supplements and sleeping pills and vitamin D, and felt a little better. Then, breast cancer came to call, and by the time my treatment was done, the symptoms had more or less disappeared, or at least had been superseded by the symptoms of chemo. I congratulated myself at having powered through cancer as well as surviving menopause.

But two years later, I feel old. I look that way, too. I’ve aged ten years. Some of that’s the cancer, of course. I was quite open about my treatment when I was powering through it – partly in order to pre-empt any questions about my hair loss or any of the all-too visible effects of three courses of chemo. Not that it stopped the comments, though. Even at my lowest ebb, a sector of social media made it clear that my only concern should be to look young and feminine to anonymous men on Twitter.

Right now, I don’t feel either. My hair has gone grey and very thin. My skin, too, seems thinner; both physically and mentally. At a recent publishing event, several acquaintances failed to recognize me; others just looked through me as if I had become invisible. Invisibility would be a relief; I find myself dressing for camouflage. I tend to wear baggy black outfits. I got my OBE last week. Photographs in the Press show me talking to Prince William. I’m wearing a boxy black trouser suit, flat shoes and a red fedora. I think I look nice. Not glamorous, but comfortable; quirky; unpretentious.

On a thread of largely supportive messages, one Twitter user pops up to say: Jesus, who’d accept an honour looking like that middle-aged disaster? @Joannechocolat thought she’d make an impact? She needs a stylist. If you look in the dictionary for the definition of “dowdy”, it features this photo.

It’s not the same man who belittled me over 20 years ago. But the sentiment hasn’t changed. Regardless of your achievements, as a woman, you’ll always be judged on your age and fuckability. I ought to be used to this by now. But somehow, that comment got to me. Going through menopause isn’t just a series of physical symptoms. It’s how other people make you feel; old, unattractive, and strangely ashamed.

I think of the Glass Delusion, a mental disorder common between the 14th and 17th centuries, characterized by the belief that the sufferer was made of glass. King Charles VI of France famously suffered from this delusion, and so did Princess Alexandra Amélie, daughter of Ludwig 1st of Bavaria. The condition affected mostly high-profile individuals; writers, royals, intellectuals. The physician to Philip II of Spain writes of an unnamed royal who believed he was a glass vase, which made him terribly fragile, and able to disappear at will. It seems to have been a reaction to feelings of social anxiety, fear of change and the unknown, a feeling both of vulnerability and invisibility.

I can relate. Since the menopause, I’ve felt increasingly broken. I don’t believe I’m a glass vase, and yet I know what it feels like to want to be wrapped in a protective duvet all day. I’ve started buying cushions. I feel both transparent, and under the lens, as if the light might consume me. On social media, I’ve learnt to block the people who make mean comments. To make myself invisible. To hide myself in plain sight. I power through, but sometimes I think: why do women power through? And who told them that powering through meant suffering in silence?

Fortunately, some things have changed since I went through the menopause. Over the past few years, we’ve seen more people talking about their experiences. Menopause is likely to affect half the population. We should be talking about it. If men experienced half these symptoms, you bet they’d be discussing it. Because power isn’t silence. You’d think that, as writer, I would have worked that out sooner. Words are power. Sharing is strength. Communication breaks down barriers. And sometimes, power means speaking up for those less able to speak for themselves.

I look at myself in the mirror. I see my mother’s mouth; my father’s eyes. I see the woman I used to be; the woman I will one day become. I see the woman my husband loves, a woman he still finds attractive. A woman with a grown-up child who makes her proud every single day. A menopausal woman. A cancer survivor. A woman who writes books that make other people sit up and think. A woman who doesn’t need the approval of some man she’s never met to be happy. She can be happy now. I can. And finally, I understand.  Powering through isn’t about learning to be invisible. It isn’t about acceptance, or shame, or letting Nature take its course, or lying about feeling broken. It’s looking beyond your reflection. It’s seeing yourself, not through the lens of other people’s expectations, but as yourself. The sum of everything you’ve been; of everyone who loves you. Of claiming your right to be more than glass, or your reflection in it. The right to be valued. The right to shine, regardless of age or reproductive status. Men seldom question their own right to these things. But women have to fight for them. That’s why it’s so exhausting.

This morning, instead of putting on my usual baggy black sweatshirt, I chose a bright yellow pullover. I looked at myself in the mirror. It’s not a great colour on me now, but it feels like dressing in sunshine. My husband came into the bathroom. You look –

My husband rarely gives compliments. I can’t remember the last time he commented on how I was dressed. I wondered what he was going to say. Dowdy, perhaps? Inappropriate? Like a menopausal woman in dire need of a stylist?

At last, he said: When you smile like that, you look like a friendly assassin.

A friendly assassin. I’ll take that.  

Shining like the sun. That’s me.

[soobszzn]

storage room smooch

synopsis: you want to show your super sporty and athletic boyfriend yeonjun just how supportive you can be.

pairing: jock!yeonjun x reader

genre: mostly fluff, established relationship

content/warnings: lots of kissing, lots of making out, reader doesn’t want to get in trouble, mildly suggestive at the end

wc: 1.3k 

a/n: dedicated to R🌹

-

“choi yeonjun, fighting!” you exclaimed at the nervous boy fiddling with his shoe laces. he had a few minutes before one of his weekly tournament games, yet was glued to your side. he stood up straight and let out a sigh.

softly smiling at your boyfriend, you began adjusting his basketball jersey while he took a few deep breaths. as talented and athletic as he was, he still got so nervous before every game. you made it a point to support him at each match, cheering him on by the sidelines. 

you took some time to admire him in his jersey, which perfectly showed off his sculpted muscles. part of the reason you loved watching his games so much was because his flawless figure was on display for everyone to see. yeonjun huffed and snapped you out of your trance.

“you’re gonna do great, you’re the best one on the team.” you said encouragingly, affectionately pinching his cheek. he chuckled and smiled back bashfully, mouthing a “thank you.”

“i got this!” yeonjun chanted to himself, lightly jogging in place and taking a few quick breaths. prepared to return to his team, he kissed you quickly on the cheek and jogged towards the now gathering group across the gymnasium. you situated yourself in your usual spot on the bleachers, with a perfect view of yeonjun whenever he was on the bench.

-

you knew it was normal for some matches to go poorly, but it was bad this time around. it seemed that team synergy was off and nobody was performing their best - not even yeonjun, who was visibly upset.

you watched your boyfriend worriedly, his coach and fellow teammates looking defeated. apart of you felt a bit useless, as the only thing you could do from the sidelines was cheer loudly alongside other spectators.

down by almost half the points of the opposing team, and seeing your boyfriend so troubled, you decided to take matters into your own hands. you noticed his team start to migrate into the boys’ change room for their short halftime break. 

springing to your feet, you quickly walked along the gym perimeter and made a beeline for yeonjun, who was taking his time getting off the bench. as you approached, he looked up and attempted to shoot you a reassuring smile, although you knew he was bothered and slightly embarrassed at his current performance. then, ever so swiftly, you leaned in and pecked him on his forehead in an attempt to lift his spirits. yeonjun’s eyes widened in surprise.

you didn’t plan on keeping him long from his team, and you weren’t even sure if you were allowed on this side of the gymnasium. a short and sweet act of encouragement was all you intended. but it seemed yeonjun had other plans.

before you could even pass him by and get back to your seat, yeonjun grabbed your arm in urgency and pulled you towards him. he lead you to the slightly opened gym storage room not too far away, sneaking the both of you inside.

the storage room was dimly lit and you could only make out a few features of your boyfriends’ face. suddenly, you felt his hands cup your cheeks. he inched his face closer to yours, allowing your lips to meet.

despite being taken aback, you happily and willingly kissed him back. his plush lips were soft and sweet, and you could feel him smile against your lips. then, his hands fell to your waist, as you allowed your hands to roam his already dishevelled hair. this intimacy with yeonjun was pure bliss and you enjoyed every second, but reality settled in and you pulled away quickly.

“oh my god! what if someone sees! is your team looking for you? what about your coach!?” you blurted almost too loudly.

“everyone’s busy doing their own thing, i don’t think they’d notice me missing.” yeonjun laughed as he attempted to pull you close again, obviously still distracted by your lips. you shot him a look.

“im serious, jjun. go back to your team. they need you.” your boyfriend groaned in a way that confirmed your suspicions. “i don’t want you to get in trouble.” you continued.

“you were the one who distracted me!” he argued jokingly as he ran a hand through his hair. he prepared to leave your safe haven in the storage room, and he instructed you to follow a few seconds after. he gave you one last peck and winked as he slipped out and went back to his team.

-

you didn’t want to claim the team’s comeback as your own doing, but the coincidence was almost comical. you watched in awe as the team continually racked up points in the last two quarters of the game. yeonjun’s energy and vibrancy had returned, moving swiftly and confidently on the court. although they didn’t win this time, they caught up quite impressively with only six points separating them from a win.

unfortunately for the two of you, yeonjun’s short absence during halftime didn’t go unnoticed. even though both his team and coach acknowledged the reappearance of his athletic prowess, they didn’t appreciate the tardiness. after the game, yeonjun was tasked with cleaning up the gymnasium before the caretaking staff arrived. this meant that he had to stay an extra while and the two of you couldn’t go directly back to yeonjun’s place.

“i’ll help you out.” you announced, as you stepped towards the boy picking clutter off the gym floor.

“no no no, i can do this. maybe you should head home first.” yeonjun protested, swiping a bead of sweat off his forehead.

“i was the one who distracted you anyways.” you teased, flashing him a cheeky grin. admitting defeat, yeonjun smiled gratefully.

“lemme just go change out of this uniform. be out in a sec!” he responded, hurriedly rushing back into the change room.

as you waited, you began filing the ball racks back into the gym storage. yeonjun didn’t take very long, returning back in his school uniform, hair still dishevelled. his white button up was messily tucked into his grey slacks and his tie wasn’t properly done up. even though he looked incredibly hot in his basketball uniform, you couldn’t help but enjoy this messy look of his.

and man, did you want to kiss him again.

he let out an exhausted sigh as he made his way towards you. “thank you for helping,” he said quietly. you shot him a meaningful look.

he glanced at you confused. “what?”

you grinned almost deviously, taking his hand and leading him back into the storage room. you yanked at his tie, pulling him closer to you and then pressed your lips together, more eagerly than he did before. yeonjun gasped into the kiss, but settled into it almost immediately. 

your eagerness had him pressed up against a storage shelf littered with gym class equipment. you rested your hands around his neck, gently playing with locks of his hair. he held you at your waist, hands occasionally wandering.

each time your lips threatened to separate, they’d be drawn right back together. the soft sounds of lips smacking filled the dull room, and your breaths became increasingly louder.

in the midst of lip-locking, you pulled away to compliment him. “you did so good today,” you breathed out. he kissed you once more.

“i could only do it because of you,” he pulled away this time, before cupping your face again and pulling you deeper into the kiss.

your hands now roamed his messy locks just as you did before, blissfully allowing yourself to indulge in your handsome boyfriends’ plush lips even more.

yeonjun pulled away again, and you almost whined at his absence. but, before you knew it, he started pecking at your cheek and moving downward. he began slowly leaving longer kisses on your neck, and you found yourself needing to stifle any noises.

“not here, yeonjun!” you exclaimed.

“then hurry and help me finish cleaning up.”

[reaperexe]

Coffee?

Summary : When a bad drink causes misunderstandings and sacrifices of taste buds.

warnings : tooth rotting fluff

He knew he was running late and to soften the blow of your anger he decided to grab a coffee. the new coffee shop across the street looked pricey but it was his best option if he didn't wanna be any more late to meet you.

As he walked into the unfamiliar place and stood in front of the bored barista he decided to just order the new launch coffee. the barista busied herself with the order as he pulled out his phone and texted you a quick sorry message and you quickly replying with a 'its ok get here safe' to which he visibly blushed.

The barista rang up his order with a bill that costed as much as his groceries for two days. he grabbed the two brown drinks and rushed to library.

He entered the library and looked around to see you quietly studying in the corner with your books splayed out. He felt guilty approaching you but as soon as your eyes fell on him, a familiar warmth spread through him at your smile.

"Here i got this for you" He says sliding a cup your way as he sat down next to you. "Coffee?" You question taking the warm cup in your hands.

He takes a sip from the mug the hot liquid, scalding, burning his tongue temporarily till the overly sweet taste settles on his tongue and he grimaces at the taste.

You too take a sip of the drink, the sweet taste making it hard for you to not visibly cringe as you turn to him to ask him the contents of the drink trying to sound as polite and nice as possible.

He holds back as you ask, assuming you liked the drink and tries his best to remember its contents, he curses himself for not being thrown off by the four pumps of vanilla while ordering.

He explains to you how it was a limited edition drink, the way he explains it makes you feel bad for disliking the drink thinking he had liked it and wanted you to try it.

"Like it?" He asks at the end and that sells it for you as you muster enough courage to take another sip and nod your head.

"Yep its good".

Seeing you like it was enough for him as he takes a sip too, struggling to not frown at the taste and focus on the task at hand.

After hours of hopeless flirting and small sips of the coffee that just didn't seem to end, your mutual friend decided to show up.

"What's up" He announces taking a seat across you two "Is that coffee?" He asks pointing to the drinks on the table which was followed by the shove of both drinks in his direction with a chorus of "Here you can have it".

"Ok never knew i had such nice friends" He says picking up a cup and gulping before pulling the cup away to a face of disgust "Ugh, what is this sugar in a cup? this sucks" He announces harshly.

You both look at each other expecting the other to be offended by the insult to the supposedly liked drink but neither actually care to defend the drink but rather defend their partners choices.

"You cant convince me this is good" Your friend drones on as you decide to finally stand up for him "Hey if he likes it then its fine" You say confidently.

He looks taken aback 'he likes it?' he thinks, do you think he likes it? but he thought you liked it "Wait i thought you liked it?" He voices his concern.

"I think its fine" You say trying to not hurt his feelings.

"Too sweet is what it is, its not fine" Your friend cuts you off, looking bored.

"Well yeah it is" You admit sheepishly and his brows furrow, "Wait a minute you don't like it either?" He asks.

"Either?.." You say

"Wait so you don't like it?" You ask

"Oh thank god i fucking hated that drink" he groans out loud earning a few shushes from others around the library as he mutters out a sorry.

"Yeah i never liked it either" You admit embarrassed.

"i thought you did-" You both say quickly before giggling at each other.

"I was gonna buy it again for you tomorrow" He admits "Oh god no" You groan.

"Uh thank you to you too" Your friend scoffs crossing his arms as you two laugh.

"Thank god that cleared up".

[lovdlydaz]

❝ YOU ARE FLAWLESS. ❞

artist!choso x black!afab!reader

your boyfriend has a tendency to go over the top when it comes to you, so when you express your insecurities, he makes sure to let you know how perfect you are in his eyes.

warnings: chubby reader, supportive boyfriend choso, modern au (no curses/sorcerers), angst to fluff to smut, cunniligus, p in v, unprotected sex (trying for a baby), "draw me like one of your french girls" type shit, shit tons of praise, creampie, pet names, soft dom choso, very subby reader, just a lot of soft sex and affirmation enjoy

it all started when you asked your boyfriend to go get some healthier foods from the grocery store that you had seen on social media. he was vaguely confused since he knew that both you and him didn't really eat healthy, which was fine for him but not for you. while he had a very fast metabolism and also worked out 5 times a week, you barely lifted a finger and would stay home to cook and clean since your work was at home and on a computer.

so, when you started to gain a few pounds over a couple of weeks you realized you needed to do something about it, so you did. whenever choso would go to the gym you would follow him, doing your own little couple workouts and feeling great right after. then you would stop at a restaurant to grab some food before heading home and watching your boyfriend paint while you did work across the room.

after a few more weeks of working out and eating a bit more healthier, you didn't see results at all. yes you felt lighter and you internally were healthier, your body didn't show any ounce of getting smaller. you still had fat around your hips, small rolls that were only visible when you arched, flabby arms and thicker thighs than normal. and while your thighs and arms had more definition now, the fat didn't go away no matter what you did.

so it started to get to a point where you went into bad eating habits, like eating once out of the day and even that meal was only a few hundred calories. by then, that's when your body started to get smaller, since you let it digest the fat instead of the food you were ingesting. choso didn't like how much thought you were putting into your body, since regardless of how you looked he would still love you anyways.

one day, the man you loved more than anything in the world sat you down for a whole-hearted meaning regarding your physical and mental health. he reached out for your hand and looked you dead in the eyes, his own pink ones staring deep into your chocolate brown ones.

"why did you sit me down? is there something you wanna talk about?" you asked, acting oblivious to the fact that you knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. and it was you. "baby, i know something's wrong. you haven't been acting yourself lately, being cautious about what you eat and going to work out with me when you had work to do. is there something you wanna tell me?" he inquired, making you drop your head and small tears form in the corner of your eyes.

"...do you think i'm fat?" your soft voice mumbled, causing his eyes to widen and his face looked taken aback. "...what?" he muttered alongside you. your face picked itself up and there were tears threatening to leave your eyes as you stared at him. "babe, i've gained over 10 pounds in the last month, i've gone up a shirt size and two pants sizes, i've gained fat around my stomach and hips, and i can't even get into bed without feeling like shit because my stomach pokes out more than it ever has. and i'm not even pregnant..." your voice trailed off since tears were falling down your face, causing your beloved partner to wipe them off of your face for you.

choso pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, your crying always upset him and this just absolutely broke his heart. he had never noticed you feeling this way, all those hints from you wanting to get healthier foods to you barely leaving your built-in office because you were afraid to eat. he felt like the worse boyfriend in the world for not noticing sooner, but none of this was his fault. "b-baby..." he couldn't even form words, your sobs had grown even louder from the silence he gave. all he could do was cradle you in his arms, letting you cry out all the frustration he knew you needed to.

his arms were comforting, soft and hard with a mix of muscle and fat, you felt like he was your personal teddy bear. he was always able to give you the hugs you needed and treat you like a princess when he knew you needed it. so, when you felt him wrap his arms around you to let you cry into them, it was so soothing for you. you cried for maybe about a minute until it subsided to soft sniffles and coughs. he rubbed the small of your back the whole time, letting you get nice and comfortable before you wanted to speak.

it took a few minutes but you finally started up at him, mouth quivering just a little as your glossy eyes looked into his softer pink eyes. choso looked back down at you, just staring into those lovely brown eyes he adored since the first time you two had met. his mouth opened, then it closed, then it opened again, and words started to flow out.

"princess, listen to me. you are perfect in every way, shape or form. no matter how much weight you gain or how much you lose, i will love you regardless of your body. i didn't fall in love with you off of pure looks alone, i fell in love with you because we were made for each other," he spoke, grabbing your delicate face with his rough and gentle hands. "we are like peanut butter and jelly," he continued, "syrup on pancakes, ham and cheese sandwiches, we just... click. you are mine and i am yours, nothing will ever change that. you understand love?" he asked you, looking back to see your tears had started back up, but they were happy tears.

you hugged your lover and nodded your head, which he didn't like. so, he softly pulled you away, a hand on your hip while another against your cheek. "words honey, they don't have to be perfect." he sweetly demanded, making you gulp and open your mouth. "i-i... i understand babe. thank you... so much." you smiled, making him kiss the top of your head once more, which elicited a giggle out of you. but, the praise wasn't over just yet.

now that he had calmed you down, he connected your lips, which you immediately melted into. not caring about what the world thought or what the voices were telling you, you had choso, and that's what mattered right now. it was sweet and sensual, conveying all the inter-meaningful and complex emotions the both of you shared within each other, for each other. it was a kiss that signified your love for one another, and it was just that.

until it wasn't.

after the sentimental moments dribbled away, there came the sexual. you started to softly whine as your boyfriend pressed deeper into your lips, pushing your body against the couch the two of you were on right against the armrest. it was comfortable and actually helped your back a little, but his weight was pressing down on you and you weren't that strong. you could handle it however, since he knew how much to hold up so that he wouldn't crush you. his lips were so rough yet had a smoothness to them that was oddly satisfying. you couldn't put your finger on it, it just felt right.

choso pulled away after a couple of seconds, needing to breathe but he didn't connect your lips back. instead, he dropped lower to your jaw, kissing it tenderly making your body tense with arousal. you could feel your heat start to throb from the way your boyfriend touched you, just like he loved you. and he did. "beautiful baby, wonderful girl," he panted, kissing going past your collarbone now and to the clothed part of your chest. he raised your shirt over your head to pull it off, going to your covered tits and massaging them.

"such a perfect body, would be such a great mama," he murmured, fondling the breast tissue in his large hands. you let out soft noises at this, feeling every emotion rise within you due to the pure fact that his words were reaching everywhere but your brain. you believed he loved you but you didn't believe your body was perfect, but he did, and with pride.

his hands traveled lower to your tummy, knowing that you were sucking in so he gave it a soft tap, which caused you to free your stomach. watching all the fat that your belly had gathered made his cock immediately stand up, it was so hot how much you had gained. and, quite frankly, it weighed your body out perfectly, now you were busty in every place and choso would have to fight every man off because he knew how dangerous you were now.

he softly played with the flesh, going a little too close to your womanhood, but he knew exactly what he was doing. that's why he didn't stop, he just kept going. he wanted you to realize how beautiful you were, how god sent your existence was to him and how fucking in love he was. so, he kept going with no intention of stopping. "such a pretty belly, great for holding my kids," he groaned, starting to slowly hump against the couch because of how much he was turned on by you and your body. he was too entranced by you, every action he did showed just that.

he kissed and marked your pudge, causing soft gasps and whimpers to escape you. you were drenching in your panties right now, which choso could see a perfect outline of your pussy lips from where he was. the only reason you weren't wearing shorts was because your shorts felt too suffocating on your thighs, so you wore one of choso's shirts to cover your ass and thighs. which obviously didn't work, since the shirt was now discarded on the floor.

it took him a while to stop, but once he did, he went back to your breasts and unhooked your bra from behind. he let the article of clothing hit the floor before he grabbed one heavy teat, kneading the flesh with his jagged fingertips while you couldn't keep down your noises. you were melting from his touch, everything about him was making you turn into jelly just from his presence alone. no other man could make you feel how choso made you feel, emotionally and physically. he made you feel things that not even god could comprehend, these feelings were so complex and for one person and one person only.

his mouth latched onto your unoccupied tit, sucking and licking the sensitive nub as his other hand pinched and rubbed the other. your nipples were very sensitive so of course this made you even more wet, causing your back to arch into his touch and your throbbing clit to rub against your panties, making you moan out into the air. he could only get harder from here, which caused a wet spot to appear in his underwear. he didn't care though, at least you were both wet together.

"such big tits, good for my babies," he moaned this time, groaning and wincing as he got as much of nothing as he could out of your tit. he would be sucking all the milk out of them when you got pregnant, he couldn't wait for that. he was so obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant right now, your body was perfect for his children and he wanted you to know that. you would be a wonderful mother and you were both ready for kids, being together since high school and never separating. he wanted you, he wanted to have a family with you, and now was the perfect time.

once choso finished with your chest he moved down to the place you wanted him to, but he completely avoided it to go to your thicker thighs. he kissed and licked all over them, moaning as he did so. "such long and plump thighs, perfect for sittin' on me," he huffed, kissing and marking your legs as he went down. once he finished he moved back up to your heat, kissing the outside of it and licking your clit through your underwear. "such a pretty little pussy, and just for me," he gruffed, using his teeth to tear apart the barrier between his mouth and your cunt, discarding it onto the floor.

after that, he went to town. he grabbed your thighs and held them as he dove nose first into your cunt, licking and sucking around your labia and moving from your clit to your hole. you let out a surprised moan at the fact that he went so fast and ate you like a starved man, which was turning you on even more. he could taste your fluids rushing on his tongue and all he could do was whine and hump the couch, your taste putting him in a trance that he never wanted to get away from. he wanted to taste you on his tongue forever, and he made that obvious in everything he did.

he made it his duty to make sure that you understood that you could feel every bit of his love through how aggressive and hard he was eating you out. he knew that he was going hard but that's what made it fun, that's what made you realize how good of a man your boyfriend was. now you wish he was your husband, but that will change very soon. his messy work on your pussy had you reeling and keening, he knew exactly how to please you and it made you feel so good knowing that he cared this much.

"mm, choso, baby, 'm close," you cooed, grabbing his head and pushing it more into your vagina. he obviously didn't oblige, getting as much of you as he could on his tongue. you came undone a few seconds after that, crying out his name as you covered his face with your fluids. he was surprised how he didn't cream his pants right then and there, but he didn't, which meant he was going to fill you up with all his kin.

he slurped and licked everything he could, some falling around his chin and down his neck. he could feel how you clenched your thighs around him too as you came, which got him even more excited. you were too much for this man, he couldn't contain himself when he was around you. so, after a few minutes of drinking up your juices he freed himself from your grasp, panting like a dog as he stared at you through lustful eyes. his gaze was like a hungry wolf to a poor sheep, you being the sheep in this scenario. he wanted to devour every bit of you, never let you go until all the meat was consumed off your bones.

though, he needed some help as well.

choso grabbed you by under your armpits and picked you up like it was nothing, ultimately making you gasp and blush at the sheer shock of your boyfriend carrying you around like a ragdoll despite your added weight. that made you curl up in his arms as he carried you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the bed and going to slide off his soaked boxers. his cock sprang out of its prison and hit above his belly button, making you gulp. no matter how much you had taken his cock, the size still shocked you every time. now it was getting serious.

he crawled onto the bed and in between your legs, hooking them up on his shoulders and lining his tip with your quaking hole. you realized how much weight he was actually putting on his shoulders so you tried to move your legs, but he stopped you by holding your calves tightly. "babe, your legs weigh so much less than what i squat. you're not gonna hurt me," he smiled, you about to respond until he shoved his full length deep inside you, your noises sounding like music to his ears.

the thrusts were slow, deep, appreciative of your tight walls and gushing pussy. he would lean down and kiss your lips, softly massaging your skin as his cockhead kept kissing the tip of your cervix. "such a tight fuckin' pussy, my pussy, holdin' my kids," he groaned into the kiss, you responding with a strained noise as he thrusted particularly deep inside you. you loved the dirty talk, it was so good and it had you clenching around him once again. he sucked in his lips at this, wincing and holding back a groan of pleasure.

after a minute of this however, he started to drive inside you a bit faster. you of course didn't complain, you were starting to get close to your 2nd orgasm. choso wasn't close however, despite how much pre-cum was leaking inside you. he wanted to make you cum so many times, splash your insides white with his seed and make you a mother of his children. so, a rough finger pad went to your clit, rubbing it to the speed of his thrusts, which slowly increased with time.

the noise that escaped you was pitiful, making choso's mind churn with thoughts of wanting to just impregnate you so deep that you would be pregnant with triplets, quadruplets even. he looked down at your face, god you were beautiful. lashes fluttering, thick long braids splayed all over the pillow, chocolate brown skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the pure sex you two were having. he loved how hot you looked like this, your loud moans echoing throughout the room fueling him to go faster.

choso kept your legs up as his heavy balls slammed against your ass, the claps getting louder and louder with each thrust. they were soft yet so aggressive, like something had possessed him to just give it to you dirty. but, you didn't have a single ounce of a complaint, he always did you so right because he knew just how to please you, no other man could.

you were getting closer by the second, his rough thrusts and his fast rubs on your clit were sending you higher and higher. he knew this so he kept going, giving it to you exactly how you wanted it. he praises never stopped though, he kept making you feel good, physically and mentally.

"god, such a good pussy, and just f'me." "such a pretty girl with pretty moans, would make a good mother of my kids." "good girl baby... just keep going back on me like that."

his lips never stopped moving, which was very rare during sex. he wasn't very talkative but he was very vocal, voicing to you every noise you made him express due to you and your wonderful body. it turned you on even more, how much he was talking to you and how good he could talk to you. it had you clenching around him harder, throwing your head back and creaming his cock for the second time that night. he bit his lip and rocked his hips through your orgasm, making your noises grow and grow until they died down.

you didn't even notice choso stall inside you until his cum started to pour into you, thick creamy globs pumping inside you for almost a minute. he groaned and leaned down, panting into your neck as he finished in you. "godddd baby, pussy milkin' me dry, fuck," he moaned, you holding his back and marking it with your nails as he finished.

-----------

after your session was finished (it took all night) you were held in his arms, none of you asleep as your company was enough to keep you awake. however, your boyfriend got a little sneaky idea, so he sat up with you in his arms and looked down at you. "babe, come with me to my art room," he said, not letting you decide as he picked you up, walking over to the art room that was all the way near the garage and into the room next to the garage door.

he sat you down on a chair he had in the room, it was covered in dried paint but it was also covered by a clean towel. he went over to his potter lathe and cleaned it off with a piece of leftover wood he had from a previous project of his. you were confused as to why he was currently setting up his wheel but you didn't question it, you learned that the first year you two were together. also, heads up, but you were both naked and he didn't have anything to wipe his hands off with. but, he had a sink in the room as well, since it was an old bathroom before he revamped it but kept the sink.

he grabbed some clay from on his shelf that he had let sit for almost a week, using his strength to slice it up and smash together. he continued this until he had the perfect amount/consistency, looking back at you with a sweaty face. "baby, can you spread your legs just a little? for this next piece i want it to be inspired by you and how good you look with my kin spilling out of you," he remarked oh so nonchalantly, making you blush extremely but you obliged nonetheless. he smiled and started up his lathe, wetting the clay just a little first before starting to sculpt.

it took a good few hours to get every meticulous crease, every indent and every curve on your gorgeous body and you didn't have to do much but just sit there. the chair had a back so you were fairly comfortable, so you fell asleep in a little under thirty minutes. that was more than enough for him to be able to manipulate your body and turn you every which way he oh so desired.

the piece was done in under three hours to get your exact body shape, the clay in your exact shade of skin tone and he had to carefully take it off the wheel before getting a blow dryer and drying it manually. after it dried he got his little knife and cut all the pieces to get every detail of your body as an exact replica. while you were asleep, he softly grabbed your body to see what he was missing, getting every piece down until it was completed.

when he had finished, it was over five hours worth of work he had done just for you. he would keep this replica of you in his office as a reminder of you, a reminder of how beautiful you were to him and how your body was even better. he let the clay dry as he washed his hands off, drying them with a towel he had left in here before picking you up, carrying you to your shared bed.

he laid you down and laid down right next to you, cradling you in his arms before falling asleep, safe and sound.

"choso, why the fuck is there a replica of me in your art room with your cum comin' out of me?"

"it was a surprise, you weren't supposed to know..."

"surprise for who?"

"...me."

"CHOSO!"

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

[strawberrystepmom]

cw omegaverse, cw yandere, cw predator prey dynamics. f!omega reader, alpha!geto. wc 1.2k

pt. 1

Just as predicted, you return to the grocery store two days later and he can smell you before you even enter the sliding doors.

Geto watches from the produce section as you reach for a basket, each movement sluggish. The basket dangles from your elbow just as it did so few days ago, the hunch in your shoulders indicates how bad you’re feeling, but he is almost taken aback when he looks at your face.

Your eyes are sunken and glossy, you glisten with sweat from your hairline to your upper lip, and your breath leaves your pretty little mouth in puffs he can almost visualize.

The suppressants aren’t working the way you need them to because you missed doses. He’s shocked that you weren’t aware of that before missing any or if you were, how senseless you must have been to forget.

The same awareness you felt two days ago makes a shiver claw its way down your spine and you shake with the force of it. You’re constantly vacillating between too hot and freezing cold, your stomach has been tied in knots for days and your cunt contracts almost painfully while you shuffle in the direction of a stack of apples atop a crate.

“Hey,” you hear clear as day again and immediately you clench so hard that you whine aloud. Suguru rushes to your side and places a hand on your shoulder. You want to shrug him off, violently enough that everyone will turn and stare, but the weight of his hand has the immediate effect of making you slump further forward. Relief, visible.

His concerned face enters your vision and you sigh, gut twisting into knots yet again. It’s overwhelming to be in the presence of an alpha and you sniff, eyes fluttering closed as the warm sandalwood scent he’s emitting fills your senses.

You could get lost in him, in this. Maybe your therapist was right to tell you to quit putting off the inevitable and to put your suppressants away. Maybe you could settle down, ready to wear a mark on the juncture between your shoulder and neck.

You whine again at the thought.

“Are you alright?”

Without further thought, you shake your head and your lower lip juts out.

“Come on, can I take you home?” He offers and you nod, your eyes beginning to water while he coos at you reassuringly and pulls you into his side. “Let me get you home before another alpha finds you in this condition.”

He’s so kind, you think while leaning into his side with your own rapidly weakening body.

An alpha on your local route just waiting to take your hand and lead you home - it almost sounds like the fairytales you used to read.

This is really happening though and you weakly mumble the name of your apartment complex and he hums, typing the name into his phone to map the directions. Four blocks west, he leads the way, smiling at anyone who looks at the two of you.

“What’s your apartment number?”

“You can leave me at the door, I know how to get home.” You mumble, feeling lightheaded as his scent begins to come in stronger the closer the two of you come to your home.

Everything smells like you and he swallows thickly.

“No, no. That’s not safe and I won’t allow it.”

His concern for your well-being is disarming you and you mutter the three numbers that hold your space and hopefully the relief to quell this inward burning once you take a suppressant.

“319,” he repeats to himself as he leads you into the elevator and up to the third floor. You pat your pockets for your keys and drag them out, Geto quickly sticking his finger in your key ring and claiming them for himself.

“You’re so shaky I’m afraid you won’t be able to do it on your own.”

It’s scary how easily this is affecting your judgment but it’s better at the side of someone kindly getting you home than being hounded by some entitled alpha asshole on the street while you’re by yourself.

The two of you stop in front of your doorway and he unlocks and opens the door in a swift motion, nearly groaning as he is hit full force with your scent.

The apartment is cozy and small. The walls are bare save for a few photos of yourself and two women who look similar to you. Sisters, he’s assuming. He notices your framed degree, some homemade art, a few other odds and ends but he doesn’t notice a single photo indicating you’re spoken for.

This makes him groan before he can bother to suppress it and he muffles it the best he can by buying his face in his shoulder as he helps you onto the couch.

“How long has it been since your last heat?”

The elephant in the room is no longer unavoidable and you haven’t been forthcoming enough in conversation for him to discern anything. Sighing, you pull off your shoes and bring your knees to your chest and he wastes no time plopping down next to you. The couch dips with his weight and jostles you back against his side, his arm draping around as he lowers his neck enough to rub his shoulder over your torso.

His scent will keep other alphas away from you, he’ll explain if you ask. He isn’t surprised when you don’t though, shaking your head and tipping it back against the wall behind where you sit.

“My early twenties was the last time. Six years.”

He hums reassuringly, pulling you further into his side and leaching his scent onto your skin and not just the clothing on top of it. Your heart pounds in your chest yet somehow you feel settled just like this.

He looks down at you with a half smile and you return it despite the way another shiver wracks your body.

“I need to take my medicine,” you start and he chuckles, shaking his head. His dark hair flows down your arm and covers your body and you want to wrap yourself up in it, each strand scented heavily of him.

“Medicine isn’t gonna fix this,” he tuts. “You need to let this one happen naturally.”

Considering all the things you want to say in comparison to how you feel, this pit of need that burns like tar, you acquiesce.

“You’re right.”

His smile deepens and he presses the palm of his hand against your cheek before pinching the round of it between his thumb and index finger.

“I could help you,” he offers and you feel so hazy between his proximity and his dominance and his scent that you simply smile back.

“How?”

Chuckling, he cups your chin and tips your face in his direction. He looks over your lips, slicked with the abundance of saliva you keep swallowing, and your cheeks. Your chin, the tip of your nose, your long soft lashes.

“What do you need right now?”

He knows the answer but he wants to hear it from you. He has met dozens of omegas just like you - stubborn, denying their own needs and insisting they’re above what being an omega does to one’s body - but you’re the only one he has ever taken a special interest in. His other omega came too easily, he likes a bit of a challenge.

“I…” you stop for a moment, considering your words. You let what’s on your mind flow without anything additional.

“I need an alpha.”

Using the grip on your chin, he wags your face gently and grins.

“How fortunate one seems to have fallen in your lap then.”

[0omillo0]

Dude hear me out: han and 9th member reader doing the teen vogue compliment battle and reader is trying to bring the ✨rizz✨ while han keeps doing the goofy voice with

HAN X READER

VOGUE COMPLIMENT BATTLE

a/n: I really liked this idea I hope this is what you wanted <3

ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Setting: Stray Kids and Y/N are invited by Vogue for their “Compliment Battle” series. The challenge is to take turns reading fan comments in the most dramatic way possible. The catch? You can’t laugh. Whoever stays serious the longest wins the round.

The crew is gathered on set, with everyone seated in pairs. Y/N is up first, facing off against Felix, while Han watches from the sidelines.

Vogue Producer: “Alright, for the first round, we have Felix and Y/N. Let’s see who can keep it together!”

Felix (giving a warm smile): “I’m ready to win this!”

Y/N (laughing): “Don’t get too confident, Lix.”

They both sit across from each other, and the producer hands them some tweets to read.

Felix (reading dramatically): “Y/N, your smile is brighter than the sun, and your laugh is the cure to all my bad days. Marry me, please.”

Y/N giggles but tries to maintain composure.

Felix: He leans in, grinning, and takes Y/N’s hands dramatically. “Did you hear that? They need you. You’ve cured them. You’ve healed their soul.”

Y/N (struggling not to smile): “Felix, stop. You’re making it worse.”

Han watches from the sidelines, eyebrows furrowing as Felix holds Y/N’s hands. He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair with a small pout.

Han (muttering): “Why’s he gotta hold her hands like that…”

Lee Know (noticing Han’s expression): “Are you jealous already? It’s the first round.”

Han (quickly): “No. Just… competitive, you know?”

Vogue Producer: “Alright, Y/N’s turn.”

Y/N (grinning as she reads): “Felix, your freckles are a constellation that guides me through my darkest nights. How can one person be this ethereal?”

Felix smiles wide, clearly flattered, but he’s trying hard not to crack.

Felix (fanning himself): “Stop, I’m blushing.”

Y/N dramatically reaches out to lightly cup Felix’s cheek.

Y/N (whispering, trying to flirt): “Don’t blush too much, angel. We need your beauty to stay intact.”

Felix starts laughing, breaking the game, and the producer calls the round. Y/N wins, but all eyes are on Han, who is visibly not amused by Felix and Y/N’s playful flirting.

Han (quietly to himself): “Seriously, with the cheek touch? I could’ve done better…”

Vogue Producer: “Next up, Y/N versus Han. This should be fun!”

Han straightens up, determined to be goofy and break Y/N’s composure. They take their seats, facing each other.

Y/N (smiling): “Ready to lose, Han?”

Han (grinning mischievously): “I don’t think so. I’ve got a secret weapon—my charm.”

Y/N (smirking): “Is that what you’re calling it these days?”

Han (reading in an exaggerated, goofy voice): “Y/N, your beauty transcends time and space. Every time you walk into a room, it feels like all of my troubles melt away… like butter on hot toast.”

He makes a dramatic “melting” gesture with his hands.

Y/N (already stifling a laugh): “Not the toast metaphor, Han.”

Han (deepening his voice comically): “But it’s true! You’re the butter to my toast, the ketchup to my fries.”

The whole room laughs, and Y/N has to bite her lip not to crack.

Y/N’s turn. She leans forward, eyes locking with Han’s, and lowers her voice into a flirtatious tone.

Y/N (softly): “Han… every time you laugh, it’s like music to my ears. Your smile? It lights up my world. And honestly? I think about it all the time.”

The room goes quiet, expecting Han to start goofing off, but he’s suddenly caught off guard. He blinks, clearly taken aback. Thinking maybe it’s not a fan who wrote it.

Y/N (leaning in even more): “You make everything better just by being there. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Han doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks genuinely surprised, his playful smile faltering. The atmosphere shifts slightly, and Y/N, realizing she might’ve sounded too serious, quickly pulls back with a teasing grin.

Y/N (laughing): “Come on, don’t tell me you’re giving up already.”

Han (flustered, trying to recover): “I—uh, no! No, I’m just… I didn’t expect that. You’re really trying to win, huh?”

The producer calls time, ending the round. Y/N wins again, but Han is left quietly staring at her, clearly still thinking about her words.

After the challenge, backstage.

Han is pacing around, clearly conflicted. He approaches Y/N as she’s grabbing water, the others busy with interviews.

Han (hesitant): “Hey, uh, Y/N.”

Y/N (turning around, smiling): “Yeah? What’s up?”

Han (awkwardly scratching the back of his neck): “So… about what you said. During the challenge. Were you, uh, were you just messing with me, or…?”

Y/N pauses, sensing his nervousness, and a soft smile tugs at her lips.

Y/N (teasing): “Which part? The part where I said you light up my world, or that I think about you all the time?”

Han (flustered): “Both. I mean… you don’t actually think about me all the time, do you?”

Y/N takes a step closer, their eyes meeting. She lowers her voice, her playful tone softening.

Y/N: “Maybe I do.”

Han’s eyes widen slightly, his heart skipping a beat.

Han: “Wait, really? You mean that?”

Y/N (grinning): “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Han stares at her for a moment, realizing she’s serious. He chuckles softly, his usual goofiness replaced with a warm smile.

Han (quietly): “Well, maybe I think about you a lot too. Just… didn’t know how to say it.”

Y/N’s teasing expression softens as she steps even closer.

Y/N: “Guess we’re both bad at saying things, huh?”

Han lets out a small laugh, feeling the tension ease between them. But there’s something different now—an unspoken understanding.

Han: “I guess so. But you know what? I’m glad you said it.”

They share a quiet moment, the game long forgotten. In the background, they can hear the others laughing and talking, but for now, it’s just the two of them.

Y/N (smirking again, breaking the moment): “Does this mean I officially won the challenge, by the way?”

Han (laughing): “Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll get you back next time. Maybe with more toast metaphors.”

Y/N: “Bring it on, butter-boy.”

[irulaan]

OPEN WOUND | CARMEN BERZATTO

— He understand the sacrifices he has to do in order to see you smile, to not disappoint you — as he has done so many times even when you don’t say. He understands those sacrifices sometimes came labeled as family gatherings.

✧ PAIRING. carmy berzatto x fem!reader

✧ WORD COUNT. 3.6k

✧ WARNINGS. anxiety and u know all of carmy’s troubles. a loving family. mommy issues/parents issues/family issues, all the issues? i just watched like 3 episodes? so ooc carmy maybe? i don’t know… kinda corny too oops. no use of y/n. english isn’t my first language, expect mistakes.

Carmy was afraid of abruptly colliding with an imaginary wall, so he stays away. He knows pain, so if he can avoid it — hell, he would.

“I don’t really know about this,” He appears in your field of view, wearing his usual clothes and a familiar concerned expression — this shouldn’t be nearly as stressful as his days inside The Beef.

You instinctively approach him, mirroring his expression. “What’s wrong? Something happened?”

He’s taken aback by your question, but he quickly understands what you mean. “Oh, no, everything it’s fine, I promise… It’s not about nor has something to do with the beef.”

And he’s naturally lying; all his current worries have their foundations in the beef or what was left of it. He’s damaged far beyond that, but you’ve learned how to read him, when to inquire, and when to remain silent.

It clicks for you when you see he’s struggling to find the words; he’s trying to devise an excuse without hurting you. You feel foolish for a moment; of course, family reunions would affect him like this.

You reach for his hand, and then his arm when he avoids your gaze, “I can tell them we’re not going if you don’t feel sure about it,” You offer, and you can almost hear how the conversation unfolds inside his head, how his engines try to maintain a semblance of calm. “I was nervous too when I got to meet your chefs…”

“It’s different,” He deadpans, and you smile, resting your hand on his shoulder, trying not to appear too concerned by playing with a single curl of his rather messy hair.

He looks at you when you let slip out a nervous laugh. “How so? You call your meetings’ family’; that says a lot.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he withdraws from your touch. “But it is not quite real… and it’s still non-functional.”

“What are you afraid of, Carmy?” You stand there, feeling your stomach drops by seeing him like this over something that feels so different for you. “My family’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

He shook his head, his face already getting that characteristic light red tint.

“Making a bad impression? They’ll realize you’re wasting your time” His beautiful eyes refused to stare at you in such moments. He’s afraid someday, somehow, you’ll unleash your anger on him because he’s just a depressed, over-thinker, anxious guy. “I know how family meetings work… It will be a mess—I won’t be able to go through it…”

“What—what do you mean? Wasting my time?” Your incredibly soft voice so understanding, as if you’re deeply connected to his mind. It’s the only explanation he can think of.

He’s convinced he’s a waste of time, even now, yet you’re not getting upset; you’re not attempting to hurl accusations at him. Granted, you’ve never done that, and Carmen doesn’t truly believe you’re capable of it… but that’s how his wounded mind works.

Carmen doesn’t provide an answer, so you try to press on to reassure him. “Carmy, you’re not wasting my time—“

He looks at you amid your sentence and suddenly comprehends there are some sacrifices he’s willing to make for you. “Fuck—okay, let’s go.”

“Carmy, I’m not—“You’re visibly confused; he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your hand.

“Please, I’m going to lose this impulse… just— I’m trying my best,”

A vast, relieved smile covers your face, and Carmen feels he’s gazing directly at the sun — and he loves it.

You cradle his face in your hands, gently making him meet your gaze.

“If you want to leave at any time, please tell me?” There’s a shy nod, and you realize it’s a futile question to ask. But you accept it.

“I love you, Carmy,” You promise, planting a gentle peck on his cheek before heading outside.

Your older sister obviously is the one who had to open the door, her and her extrovert energy, her weird-looking eyes, and her funny hairstyles. “There she is! My baby sister,” She usually crushes your bones under her sheer strength, and after it comes a shower of kisses. “Oh, god, I have missed you so much.”

And it’s good to see her this energetic and lovingly — you don’t want to cross her path when she’s pissed… and that’s her, the majority of the time.

She doesn’t understand personal space, so she doesn’t respect it. Your older sister doesn’t hesitate to give Carmy the same kind of hug. “And there you are! I’m Margot!” She exclaims, introducing herself and giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. Carmen only manages to whisper his name… “Mom, did you know that our baby sister’s boyfriend is the best chef in the world?” She shouts, ensuring everyone in the house hears her.

You gulp, and almost get whiplash from how fast your eyes look for his. He doesn’t seem comfortable at all; he’s stiff and fidgety, moving his fingers as if searching for something to hold. You offer your hand, and he wastes no time intertwining his fingers with yours.

As you step into the house, your sister closes the door and disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear your mom lightly scolding her. “Mags! You’re making him uncomfortable,” Then you’re greeted by her warm features and a soft smile that’s so similar to yours. She doesn’t even glance at you—her attention is fixed on your anxious boyfriend. “I’m sorry, child, she’s a bit like that,” she apologizes.

Carmy is enveloped in an endearing hug, the kind your mother or grandmother can only master. He suddenly wants to weep. How’s it that he didn’t deserve that warmth from his own mother?

It doesn’t last long, though. She soon wraps her arms around you, embracing you as tightly as your sister, and whispers how much she loves you. It’s characteristic of her—she’s unafraid to show her emotions.

And that’s all Carmen ever longed for.

“Where’s dad?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That old man forgot something… you know how he is,” she replies.”

And then, for Carmen’s well-being, another whirlwind approaches. He needs a breath of fresh air before whoever is descending the stairs arrives, ready to offer more hugs and love.

It’s your brother-in-law. Carmy’s lucky this man isn’t affectionate at all. “You’re earlier, bug,” he remarks, giving you a dry pat on the head, tousling your hair slightly. “Love, how did your baby sister do this?”

“Maybe it’s her boyfriend!” You heard Mag’s loud chuckle from the kitchen.

“Thank you, Carmen, for turning her into a punctual person, for god’s sake!” They shake hands. You observe your brother-in-law nearly stifling his inclination to crack a joke or be downright abrasive. He pledged to Margot that he’d be friendly… “It must be because you’re a chef; you can’t afford to be late, right?”

Carmy suddenly becomes hyperaware of his surroundings—the quiet conversation on TV, your mother and sister laughing in the kitchen, the distant voices of kids upstairs, his sweaty palms… and the broad smile on the man before him… expecting him to say something? God, he feels like a complete freak… “Yeah, th—that’s right”.

Did you fucking stutter?

You quickly notice his unease and almost drag him away from the man. “Mom, do you need help?”

“Baby? Your nieces are upstairs! Get them, please?”

After a sigh, you look at Carmen, who is already staring at you. He can clearly see how excited you are — how can you not be? When everyone loves you so much, and they show you? Even him right now, when he’s overwhelmed, he only can think about how much he loves you. “You want to stay here?”

He can’t; he’s going to have a panic attack. He’s overwhelmed by racing thoughts, the cacophony of sounds disrupting his thinking, and his heart rate threatening to skyrocket. He’s one sentence, one laugh, one scream away from losing connection with you. If he can’t step outside to breathe fresh air, he’ll cause a scene in your parent’s house. “I need to go out; it’s too much—“

“—I’m sorry, let’s go outside,” You almost drag him outside under the concerned stare of your sister.

When the cold air floods his senses, he can finally breathe properly. His fingers work on autopilot, seeking and reaching for a cigarette. He sits down on the old bench, you remained on your feet by his side.

It’s a whole scene you’re familiar with. Only lacking Tina and Richie’s loud screaming.

In moments like this, you know better than to exacerbate his unease with words and questions… he has learned to calm himself by his own means, and you respect that.

Once the cigarette is thrown away, you eventually become a part of his surroundings again. Carmy snakes his arms around your waist, pushing his head against your belly.

Your sweet smell comforts him. He inhales deeply when you card your fingers through his hair.

“You want to go home?” You ask, planting a kiss just above his hairline.

He begrudgingly distance himself from you. “Not really, it’s just—everybody loves each other?”

You pause momentarily, your gaze shifting from the bustling room to Carmen beside you. “I’m sorry about my sister and her husband, they have been like that since ever, and I understand if you feel bad; they mean no harm, tho” You completely miss the point.

Carmen looks at you — behind his eyes, a mixture of fear and frustration. “It’s not that, I couldn’t care less about it! It’s like I have—I have this fear—I’m not good at social interactions, I try my best—but did you see, heard? I fucking stutter! I—“

You try to comfort him through physical touch — laying your hand on his arm to ground him in the present. “You’re nervous; it’s expected, Carmy…”

He pressed his lips into a line. But you continue, “I’m or was as socially awkward as you are. Believe me when I say they’re used to odd phrases, stuttering, awkward silences, and silly laughs to avoid a question.”

“But they love you… it’s different,” He emphasizes. Carmen’s gaze remains somewhere else, his fingers fidgeting slightly.

“They love you too, and before you say anything, it’s simply because you make me happy, god! Carmy! They always tease me when I speak about you because I’m so in love with you because there’s always a smile on my face. And do you know how long they’ve waited for a huge smile from me? Years. And you know why, so yes, of course, they love you,”

He lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t really know what to say — I’m sorry, just my head messed up with me…”

A tender smile lights your face. “I know, Carmy, and I’m glad you can recognize when your mind is just playing games… you’ve come far,” you reassure him with a gentle smile. “And I won’t be pissed or angry about your insecurities or worries, but I understand if you’re waiting for me to almost kill you for it… It sucks, sure, but I understand. I’ve felt like that”.

Carmen’s gaze finally meets yours; he’s being so vulnerable right now that you only want to cuddle him, hoping all his insecurities vanish under the morning sun.

“Should we go inside? I don’t really want to worry your mother or sister,”

“If you want. If you need more time, we can stay here a bit longer,”

His voice is quieter when he finally speaks, a hint of relief lacing his words. “I’m better.” The tension in his body seems to ease slightly as he takes a deep breath, his expression slowly relaxing — he’s trying his best.

The soft sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes, the low individual conversations, the baby’s blabbing, and the dim lights on the dinning room shapes a homely ambience.

“You need to see her in action! She’s always been the best cook of the family, you know, Carmy?” Your sister interjects as her eyes light up with nostalgia.

That catches Carmy’s attention. He’s staring at you with genuine curiosity. So, stereotypically, your mom gets up in search of something. “Oh, you have to see her photos!” She chuckles, scavenging for the photo album. “She was so stubborn, wanting to make her own food for her or anyone’s birthdays, always looking for new recipes, she has done the craziest stuff!”

While your mother shows Carmy all your embarrassing childhood pictures, your brother-in-law can’t contain himself, he has to make a joke, and his playful grin gives him away. “I’m glad you’re a chef; she’s not at good as her parents want her to be.”

And your mother frowns, feigning annoyance, as Margot gives him a subtle punch.

“Because you suck at it, child,” Your father quips at him. “She’s good, right? Carmy”

Carmy considers for a moment, his gaze shifting from one sibling to another — he can mess up things if he doesn’t pick the right words. “Objectively, she’s quite decent. Some of her pastries are better than mine.”

You had plastered a lovesick grin on your flushed face. “I was born gifted, you see,”

He relishes in your soft giggles.

Your sister chuckles at the little scene your both doing, sharing a knowing look with your mother. “She was in diapers, building mud cakes outside, in the front yard…” Her stare lingers on you for a bit. “Do you remember, mom?”

Your mother nods, a fond smile on her lips. “Of course I do! Both of you treated your sister like she was a toy,” She teases her children. “Look at this, Carmen, she had been everything by the age of four.”

She finds her favorite picture of you, a huge smile paired with a set of eyes mimicking two big stars. “You were so cute.”

Your cheeks flush at his candid compliment, grateful for the levity that’s now enveloped the conversation. The shared stories and gentle teasing ease the tension, allowing Carmy to glimpse the playful dynamics of your family. He’s relaxing, finally starting to feel comfortable being around so many people that expected a lot from him.

Staring at each other, you both smile. And you don’t miss the dreamy sigh from your sister. You decided to give him a faint peck on his lips — earning a few ‘yuck’s and ‘wow’s from the kids.

“Okay, lovebirds!” Your brother said, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance — but Carmen can’t read him at all.

Not wanting him to sour the moment, your sister fights him back, “Why’s your girlfriend not here, uh?” You feel Carmy tense beside you as his hand flies to your thigh. To ground himself, to brace his rushing thoughts.

He’s expecting confrontation.

Your brother only frowns, “Funny,”

And Carmen’s so stiff, he could break if you push him. By means to help him, you whisper into his ear. “She didn’t come because Mag told her she was a milquetoast” He looked at you sideways with a confused expression. “Was recently, tho, she’ll be fine.”

Your brother shrugged and seemed to be worked up about something your sister said, but you couldn’t catch it. “Stop treating my girlfriends like they’re your friends! That’s what happens.”

Margot would rather die than not have the last word; she was provoked. “Stop bringing girls that can’t take a joke!” You could hear a few choked sounds as they tried to repress a laugh. “They’re just bland as you…”

But that was enough for your dear mother, “Margot! Stop mocking your brother, you’re acting like teenagers again!”

“I think it is the midlife crisis…” Said your brother-in-law.

Your sister laughs theatrically, bending his neck to throw her head back. Just to come back and stare directly at your brother with a big smile. “Something we have in common!”

“Carmen, dear, you want more?” Your mother whispered to him, trying to keep the conversation for the both of them only.

She understands he is fairly timid and awkward.

He smiles at her, into her wrinkled eyes that carry a joyful gaze, at her delicate and low voice tone. “Oh, no, I’m fine, thank you—thank you… I—uh, it was fine” He feels like he’s making that weird face, and your mother’s smile grows. And before continuing, he runs a hand over his face and his already messy curls, “Sorry—it was great, I don’t have this type of homemade meal often.”

She nods, glad he doesn’t lie or coat her in praises. It’s nothing out of the world but has other qualities; it tastes like childhood, like home, like your best day under the sun. It tastes mundane and, at the same time, magical. And he can’t wait to be a recurring guest…

“I’m delighted you liked it. She should prepare meals like this more often for you… because I’m sure, she’s always eating like a princess.”

Carmy nods, feeling his cheeks flush under your mother’s discerning gaze, particularly as they discuss you. “She is. I care about her”.

Your mother places a reassuring hand on his, her encouraging smile not going unnoticed, “It shows, Carmy,” He feels on the verge of tears again. Hearing that he’s doing well is a rarity; he only ever hears it from you. While it’s enough, he wishes his family did the same. “You’re a great guy.”

A knot tightens in his throat, and all he can manage to mumble without breaking is a quiet: “Thanks—“, He won’t fight your mother’s words.

“You should come over for the holidays… we spend a week on the coast. My parents had a great house there, and it’s lovely,” breaks in your father, “Everyone would love to see both of you there…”

Everyone is nodding, excitement filling the air. You probably had the best memories in that beach house. But Carmy’s eyes are glued on the table, his fingers absently tracing patterns on the back of your hand.

As the invitations hang in the air, an uneasy tension settles between you both — shouldn’t you respond to that should you?

The weight of the offer, the promise of belonging, and the haunting fear of judgment gnaw at his thoughts. And he’s spiraling again.

Your mother, in hopes of comforting him, takes his hand. “Oh, yeah, child, we’re a bit messy but nothing too bad… you’ll like it,” She’s nonchalant about it; she doesn’t want to pressure him. But the oldest of her daughters had to interrupt her. “—Baby sister loves it! You’re going to love it there too.”

Carmy smiled and gave them a quick nod. Your father makes an “ok” with his hand, and your lovely boyfriend stops being under the spotlight.

In the car back home, under the low-volume radio, he sighs, his voice tinged with resignation. “I wish I could just… step into your world without feeling like I’m going to mess it all up”. His words carry the weight of his insecurities, the years of feeling out of place and never fitting in.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, your silent support a comforting gesture amidst his internal turmoil. “Carmy, they want you there because of who you are, not who you think you should be.”

His eyes leave the way for a second to meet yours. You catch a mixture of yearning and gloom reflected in them. “I know, but… what if I can’t be what they want me to be?”

The ache in your chest matches the one in his voice. You can hear how he’s fighting within himself, the desire to be loved and accepted warring against his self-doubt. He was raised to feel like that. “Carmy, you don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to be perfect. They’ll accept you for who you are, flaws and all. I mean — they invited you over. They don’t do that often. My mother loved you!” It sounds a bit more gleeful than you expected. All because you’re excited he’s welcomed into the family.

He lets out a bitter chuckle, his shoulders slumping. “You say that, but it’s not that simple for me.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, erasing your smile. And he regrets them the instant you recoil in your seat, even though it’s an unconscious action.

A second passes, and for him, it’s like minutes are splitting you, carrying you away from him. He doesn’t know what to say; he’s resigned, waiting for the consequences.

Again, it was a nasty point of view from his mind. You reposition yourself on the seat before speaking. “Carmy, we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen each other changing and for good. And I’ve always been there for you, if you still need space, time… it’s fine. We’ll find a way out, yes?”

He parks the car, and then his eyes search for yours. He longs to be better, to know better. For him, the restaurant, his family—for Sugar, for you.

“I don’t think I deserve you.”

A sad smile touches your lips. “Just because you’re going through a hard time doesn’t mean you’re less worthy. I loved you in New York, and I love you like this. Your past and present emotions and thoughts don’t get a say in what you deserve or not, especially when we’re talking about nice things.”

“But I’m—“

“—Carmy! You won’t make me change my opinion” Your tone is softer than severe — you’ll never be severe.

And he’ll never be unloved.

“Did you realize you didn’t bring the pepto?”

a/n: Shitty ending, I KNOW I’m sorry… If I keep writing, I am going to end nowhere, so it has to end like this JDKKW. Hope you enjoyed <3. Reblogs/comments/likes are very appreciated <3

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[ghostiesen]

yandere!enemy x male!reader

incoming voice message ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 : omg this is like my first post im KINDA scared but its fiiiine,,,, i hope this isnt half as bad as my brain thinks, enjoy! content includes: swearing, stalkerish behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessiveness, implied neglectful parents, hardcore tension between character and reader LIKE ITS TENSE DUDE IM SO SERIOUS, angst, tell me if i missed something!

"Just… Fuck off. No, it's not fucking Alice from history class," he says, clicking his tongue in annoyance, and you don't fail to notice how he rolls his eyes. "Stop trying to guess my crush, you're not even close!" he exclaims, turning his head to glare at you, eyes narrowing just slightly. 

Suddenly, an idea crosses your mind and you can't help the smug smirk that spreads across your face.

Stepping closer, you notice the way Sebastian's eyebrows furrow in confusion and his glare falters. 

"Am I close enough now?" you ask, leaning down to his level, faces only inches apart. Your grin only widens as you notice his gaze briefly lower towards your lips, taking note of his visibly shaky breath, chuckling as he growls in frustration.

The shorter male pushes at your chest, catching you off guard and making you stumble. He grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you down to his level, and you can feel his warm breath hitting your face. 

"I hate you," he says, tone low as he glares at you through his eyelashes, his dark brown eyes holding something far deeper than hatred. At his words, you tilt your head to the side, a blank look on your face. You can't help but to search his gaze, narrowing your eyes as if it would make things clearer, yet you can't decipher Sebastian's mystery.

Then, you lean in once more, your faces barely an inch apart, and you couldn't stop yourself from smirking down at the boy.

"You hate me?" you ask, your sultry voice just above a whisper, taking notice of how Sebastian's eyes seem to follow your lips as you speak, along with the way his lips part for just a split second.

He blinks, completely taken aback. His face flushes red, but the surprise on his face is quickly masked by another glare.

Groaning in frustration, Sebastian lets go of your shirt and turns away, cheeks so hot he swears to himself that you can feel the warmth.

"You know what, [Name]? You're making me regret ever accepting this study date with you," He says, his back facing you as he tries to calm his racing heart down.

"Oh, you think this is a date?" you ask, raising an eyebrow and fixing your shirt as you grin at him. 

Sebastian quickly turns to face you, only to give you another glare, seemingly fed up with your antics. You chuckle, allowing a small grin to creep across your face.

"I'll stop, I'll stop," you say, grabbing the abandoned math book from the table and sitting down in the nearest chair.

Sebastian keeps glancing between you and his books for a few moments, the silence between you two making him grow more and more antsy before he finally clears his throat and speaks up, playing with the fabric of his black tie.

"Do you do this with everyone?" he asks, the look on his face blank. If you didn't know better, you would have been confused as to what he was talking about. 

"No, just you, Seb," you reply, giving him a small glance before you shift your focus back on the book, writing the formula down.

At your words, his breath hitches in his throat and his mouth hangs slightly ajar, looking at you with an intent gaze.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes had been raking over your features, narrowing slightly. His fists clenched, his grip around the mechanical pencil he was holding tightening for a split second, until he released a small huff and turned his head, his gaze leaving your form shortly after.

༺♰༻ Yandere Enemy who always watched for your reaction when he insulted you. And despite everything, he was still the one getting flustered. All because you never took his words to heart, flirting and teasing him instead.

༺♰༻ Yandere Enemy who got jealous every time anyone else was being an asshole to you. He was the only one allowed to treat you like that, the only one who should've been allowed to call you names.

༺♰༻ Yandere Enemy who, during lunch time, constantly had his eyes on you. He didn't care if you felt his gaze or not. He liked knowing what you were doing, who you were with, how you were feeling.

༺♰༻ Yandere Enemy who actually always liked having his eyes on you. Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for him, he couldn't keep watch over you during the classes that the two of you didn't share. Sebastian didn't have someone he could just order around in every class just to keep an eye on you, and this really irked the boy.

Of course, Sebastian wasn't like this from the start. The boy didn't even like you, you got on his nerves like nobody else could. And that's when his insults started, when you were just a little too loud, a little too obnoxious for his liking.

With annoyance, the boy couldn't stop himself from insulting you, getting just a little bit too close to you when he was threatening to shut you up. You thought he was flirting in an aggressive way. Sebastian meant shutting you up with his fist, not with his lips.

And so, you kept teasing the poor male, and it only resulted with your impending doom. Sebastian had never gotten this type of attention before, and as frustrating as you were to him, he only seemed to be more and more drawn towards you.

The shorter male grew up craving affection, never having had enough, and he could not help himself from the need that coursed through his veins, making him feel as if there was a piece of barbed wire constantly tightening around his heart whenever he simply wanted to be close to someone. The sharp pang of pain always made his jaw tense, unable to do anything else other than just watch from afar, craving the attention of the person he held so dearly.

It wasn't just people though, he had noticed. Noticed the way that even despite his parents getting him a puppy, he couldn't shake off the anger building up inside him when the puppy constantly craved his father's attention instead. He did everything, put in his best effort, and it had never been enough, not even to a puppy.

Not when he made his first friend.

Not even with the first boy that made his heart thump so loudly against his ribcage that he swore the other could hear it.

The feeling of importance never came back to him, it was never mutual to him.

So, naturally, when he saw you going out of your way to get his attention, to make him flustered and to get him so annoyed he would just pull you closer with a snarl, his heart didn't hold the same familiar feeling.

Instead, his heart swelled, a heady rush of feelings overtaking him as his heart skipped a beat every time your gazes locked, rendering him speechless as if his mind was foggy, unable to think about anything.

It was the way you effortlessly rendered him speechless, unable to do anything but curse and shove you away, and you never realized the true effect you had on him, or how far this effect reached. For you, it was just a harmless joke, just teasing the guy who seemed like he couldn't stand you or anything that came out of your mouth.

It was all simply for shits and giggles.

Until Sebastian saw you being a little too close to a friend.

Surprisingly, despite the tension between the two of you, you often had study sessions together. Today was no different, if you didn't count how quiet and visibly tense Sebastian was, but you did not pry. You didn't have that luxury.

Even when you teased him, he merely glanced at you, his jaw tense, then his focus went back to his notes as if you never opened up your mouth. The way the boy just gave you an empty glare without insulting you or making any comments on your behavior was making you feel extremely uneasy, it was nothing like the Sebastian you knew.

In his mind, it was like all hell breaking loose. The way his mind raced with thoughts of you and the male, the two of you a little closer than what would be considered platonic. It made him seethe with anger, as if his heart was wrapped tightly with the familiar barbed wire all over again, growing tighter and tighter by the minute.

Despite every attempt you made, he couldn't stop himself from being so cold. It was from how heavy his heart felt, slowly crushed by the tightly wrapped wire. Every glance you gave him, every word that rolled off your tongue, they all made the indignation coursing through his veins run deeper, like fuel to the fire. It was supposed to help, to calm him down, and instead it made it all worse, making him feel like it was all a lie.

Like you were toying with him when you said you only did this with him and no one else.

On your end, you were getting fed up with the feeling of uneasiness, turning to look at Sebastian once more.

"Seb," you start, biting your lower lip nervously. Your gaze remains fixed on the other boy, anxiously playing with the pen in your hand as you waited for a reply.

"[Name]," he replies, his tone cold. It wasn't his usual irritated tone, nor were his words paired with his usual annoyed expression. It was like he was merely a shell of the boy you were talking to just yesterday.

"You're acting weird. Is everything okay? If… you don't mind me asking, that is," you ask anxiously, and your nerves don't go unnoticed, his gaze briefly flickering to your hand as you played with the pen. Suddenly self-aware, you put it down on the table, trying to sit still. As you lean back in your chair, you glance back at Sebastian, whose gaze was already on you, now meeting your own. The look on his face was blank, yet it emanated a coldness that made a shiver run down your spine.

For a few moments there was a tense silence between the two of you until Sebastian finally spoke up.

"Can't you see?" he starts, tilting his head to the side, jaw visibly tense, and yet the cold gaze was still present as if it was something normal for the shorter male. "You're acting like you did nothing." his eyes narrow, eyes fixed on you as if you were his prey. "You insert yourself into my life, tell me these things, do these things, and then… Then you just… Act like nothing ever happened. You said you don't do these things with anyone else, [Name]. I thought, for once, the feeling was mutual." he continues, harsh glare burning right through you.

"And then you went ahead, got close to some… some nobody. Like I was never there. Like you never did those things." his voice raises now, jaw clenching with the irritation of having to recall the close proximity you had with your friend. "I hate it. I hate how I need you to breathe, [Name]. I hate this tight grip you have me in. Did you even know? Did you know that only with you I feel alive?" he asks, raising his eyebrow in question.

You don't know when he got so close, but he was standing in front of you now. Your brain could barely even register his words, your mouth agape as you watched him speak.

"I… I hope I occupy your mind like you occupy mine, [Name]. And, honestly, if you think about it… No one deserves you. You're mine." he looks down at you, a hint of finality in his tone as he says those words.

You blink, staring up at him, and you swear you can see a satisfied glint in his eyes at how long it takes you to finally speak up.

"Sebastian…" you start, and his eyebrows raise expectantly, making you swallow thickly as you struggled to find your words. "That's just a friend. With you it's… It's different."

"With me it's different?" he repeats, his eyes narrowing. The male's heart thumps loudly against his ribcage at your promising words, so loudly he's afraid you might hear it.

"Yes, it's… You don't like me, Seb. Not like that." you turn to look at the ground, trying to ignore the intense gaze fixed on you as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

You just kept saying all of the wrong things. Your words made his gaze darken, eyes narrowing further. The look on his face was as if you weren't the object of his affection, slowly bordering on obsession. It was as if you were a stranger, someone he merely viewed as prey.

"Not like that?" he repeats, scoffing. He licks his lips, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Sebastian leans down to your level, gazing right back into your eyes as he speaks. "Baby, I'd burn this world for you. Do I have to say it loud and clear? Do I have to specifically say that I like you, [Name]?" he tilts his head, his jaw tense with frustration. "Would you finally get it if I did that?"

You blink, your mouth agape at his words. You felt yourself trying to back away, to put distance between the two of you. His intense gaze was sending shivers down your spine, and you could feel the hair on your body stand up, fear coursing through your veins.

This was not the Sebastian you knew, but did you ever really know him?

incoming voice message ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 : this was like 2.3k words but omg.... i procrastinated for so long and even wrote a little too mcuh to the point it felt like i burned, not cooked. i hope its still enjoyable for a first post ! i would also like to add that requests are open <3

[bonny-kookoo]

I like u couple is so cute!!! Has mc met any of jk's exes? Like maybe even saw them around randomly? How did that go? Really curious how jk became the way he was at the start of their relationship

A/N: Warnings for potentially triggering content. Mentions of suicidal thoughts (VERY brief mention), PTSD.

"Oh, Jungkook?" A voice asks, and he wants to just get swallowed by the ground below. He really doesn't want to deal with her right now or ever- but mostly because he's not sure if he's capable of really dealing with it yet.

If he will ever be able to.

"Oh it is you! My god-" his ex smiles, visibly stunned by his appearance in the store. "-You.. wow. You changed a lot. How are you?" She asks, and and Jungkook can't help but let his tongue run over his piercings. They're new- she's never seen any of the by now two of them. Neither has she ever seen his new tattoos, now all colored and bold, and neither has he ever been this good in shape.

"I'm good." He nods, a bit tense, and she nods, her eyes familiar but also terrifying to him. He's scared of her. Not because she could physically hurt him right now or ever-

But because she hurt him emotionally, and he knows that's something she's probably still capable of, if he lets her.

"Listen.. I know we kind of ended on a bad note, and I'd.. I felt bad ever since." She apologizes, biting her lip, before she pulls out her phone. "Can we maybe talk? I want to at least.. I don't know, explain myself to you. Explain why you.. kind of made me feel like I had to break up, you know?" She says, and he feels his throat clog up as if he's having a panic attack.

He can't bring himself to tell her no. He's never been able to.

"And hey, it probably was good to take a break- I mean look at you!" She giggles almost excitedly. "You look like you finally grew up to be a man!" She laughs, and he's hurting again.

It's always been like that, even back then. Whenever she was happy, he wasn't. It was as if only his misery brought her joy.

"Still quiet though.." she teases, leaning in to catch his gaze as he's looking down. Maybe it's the fact she's older than him. Maybe she's always been intimidating to him. Or maybe he just felt like prey in her claws, her personality leaving him no breathing room. She's confident after all-

Wait. You're confident too. Why are you never making him feel like that?

You're just as bold, just as loud, just as confident. And yet, he never feels so suffocated like he does right now with her. You never make him feel pressured, or caged in, or as if he's cornered.

He feels free with you. He feels at ease. Soft. Alive.

When everything she's ever made him feel was the wish to be dead.

He takes a step back, breathes in, finally finds her gaze. "I don't want to." He says, and it's visible in her entire posture and face that she's taken aback. "And yeah- the breakup.. was good for me. It.. gave me time to heal." He nods to himself, as if he has to hype himself up to keep going.

Her brows lower. Her eyes become serious. He feels his confidence crumble.

"Kookie! I finally found one that fits-" you chirp, stopping for a second, sensing the tension. "Oh." You say.

"Oh." She says at the same time, clearly surprised.

It's now that Jungkook realizes the difference between you and her. You're colorful, vibrant, sparkling like a gemstone, happy and most of all-

Honest. In every word you say, everything you do.

"Awesome. Let's go pay for it and then get something to eat." He tells you, suddenly feeling energized again, as if your presence suddenly put armor on him. You're here. She can't hurt him if you're here.

"I see." She says, chuckles to herself as she looks you up and down. "Interesting choice." She bites. You laugh.

"Could say the same. You sure that top fits?" You giggle, before you take Jungkook's hand, making him grin, dimples showing.

And right there, between cheap jewelry and discount clothing is where he leaves her, his past, and his fears.

Walking out the store.

Together with you.