#mothers day worldwide
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freelyblogging · 9 months ago
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Your mom should be as pure and gentle as her existence and importance. Find out the best ways Mother’s Day is celebrated around the world.
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Happy mother's day, Angel! Let's hope that in your first year as a mom, none of the 86 kids (Catnap) decides to make an altar as a gift, hunt someone for sport just for you (Long Legs), cry their eyes out because they are desperate to call you mom but think they don't have any right to do it (Picky Piggy), or make a PowerPoint presentation with a tier rank of how hard it was to convince each kid to leave PlayCo. (Delight)! Also during your 3rd year as a mom your partner will build you an axe as a gift. Have fun!
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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 8 months ago
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Messy Misan Harriman
The Eugenie York (of course) Soho House fraud friend hired to take engagement photos of York sister, Beatrice & her fiance Edo.
"Leave those babies alone" misan's favorite twitter clapback about the INVISIBLES.
"...we are missing our children, I am missing my babies." -here we see megain markled yet again misappropriating their culture to curry favor & win influence
Nigeria is the "FATHERLAND"
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In 2014, MEgain used Misan to join One Young World. Misan introduced her to Boris Becker who introduced her to Gina Nelthorpe Cowne.
In July 2016, MEgain says she met Misan for dinner after her drinks w/Piers Morgan. Supposedly this was the day prior to her 1st official date with Prince Harry
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Update: Misan Harriman is "manifesting" the Portrait Gallery (like his mistress) as his photoshopped photo of The Meghans was only accepted for "evaluation."
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misspeppermint2003 · 2 years ago
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Coraline Jones and her mother Mel from Coraline (United States of America)
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Tiana and her mother Eudora from The Princess and the Frog (United States of America)
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Timmy Turner and his mother Mrs. Turner from The Fairly OddParents (United States of America)
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Danny Butterman and his late mother Irene from Three Flavours Cornetto's Hot Fuzz (United Kingdom)
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Wednesday Addams and her mother Morticia from The Addams Family/Netflix's Wednesday (United States of America)
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anotherferalrat · 2 months ago
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BRO THE MF SPIRIT GATHERING EVENT GOT ME FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE
How tf r yall getting 150, 250+???
(Similar note I am so sorry to the very kind Chiori-Xilonen-Neuvillette group I just played with. Yall carried so hard, I love u and I'm sorry🫶🫶)
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kimludcom · 9 months ago
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Naomi Campbell Celebrates First Mother's Day As Mom Of Two
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dizzy-n · 10 months ago
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NOW🌟UP to 30% Off in #society6shop 💕
https://society6.com/dizzy6
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mediaheights · 1 year ago
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International Mother Language Day is celebrated annually on 21 February worldwide to aware of the diversity of the language and its variety. Our Mother language Punjabi, the official language of the state, is the tenth most widely spoken language in the world. It is also the fourth most spoken language in Asia. It is the only living language among the Indo-European languages which is a fully tonal language. Punjabi is written in the Gurmukhi Script.
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 6 months ago
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I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was
(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)
Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.
My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.
So I did.
Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.
If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.
Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?
That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.
The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.
***
After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.
A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.
See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.
Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.
*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.
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rxmye · 8 months ago
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" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.
gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .
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He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.
From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.
However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.
As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .
Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.
Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.
Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.
Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.
'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.
He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"
Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .
By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)
University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.
Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."
He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.
"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"
He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.
Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.
None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .
Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.
And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.
Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?
A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.
But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.
The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.
Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.
Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."
Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.
You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .
Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.
After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.
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want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?
@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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melodyanqel · 22 days ago
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Heart Stealer | w.hj
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summary: a little angel visits her father at his workplace.
pairing: husband!father!ha-joon x wife!mother!reader
genre/tags: fluff, established relationship, married couple, the cast of squid game being a family
wc: 1.2k words
a/n: it's been so so so long since i last wrote a one shot and i missed these. so i did one of my beloved hajoon hehe. i'm also planning to do more of my fav k-actors and dramas/shows so stay tuned! enjoy reading my luvs
pt. 2 - fairness
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Squid Game is a worldwide phenomenon, and one of the most appealing features is the set designs. You are a passionate set designer. You illustrate your imagination and make it come to life for Squid Game and other popular Korean movies and dramas. 
Aside from your entertainment career, you are a mother and wife to one beautiful baby girl and the magnificent actor, Wi Ha-joon. Your love story with him is like something out of a K-drama.
The couple met during the first season of Squid Game and somehow Ha-joon found interest in a lovely woman who taught him how to draw the masks of the Pink Guards. Then, he asked her if she was available after filming. Like that, a spark ignited between the actor and the set designer. 
Ha-joon saw that you were the one for him, the starlight who showed him the brightest and happiest pathway in life. So, he proposed a hand in marriage. You straightaway agreed to be his wife and unexpectedly become the mother of his children. 
Wi Hwa-young is the cutest and sweetest baby angel. 
She immediately received so much love from Ha-joon’s fans and celebrity friends. She has her mother’s pretty eyes and lips while she has her father’s cute ears and elegant face shape and nose. She might become the next beauty queen in Asia and other places.
Hwa-young is also super talkative or babbles nonsense because she loves people’s attention and they just laugh and smile at her. Of course, like most daughters, she is a daddy’s girl. Hwa-young would get excited whenever you say, “Appa” or Ha-joon’s name. 
A week before continuing to film Squid Game 2, you told her about taking her to work and Ha-joon will be there. Hwa-young happily bounced in her height chair and squealed. You couldn’t resist squishing her mochi-like cheeks and hugging her tiny body because she was too adorable. It warms your heart that she loves Ha-joon so much. He once doubted himself about not being the perfect father and it’s common for most upcoming dads to get nervous, but for him it’s different. 
Ha-joon is an actor with so much fame and will likely be out and less at home. Like the best wife that you are, you assured him that he wouldn’t be the worst father in the world because he truly cares about you and Hwa-young. Ha-joon cried when you comforted him. It also made you love him more whenever he expressed his vulnerability. 
Now in the present time, the family will continue to grow happy and healthy. 
“Wow! You look like a princess!” 
Hwa-young is sitting on the bed as you dress her up. It’s spring so you have her dressed in a pink floral dress with short sleeves, frilly socks, and strapped shoes. You even added a bow clip with a glittery heart in the middle on her ebony hair. “Are you excited to see appa?” You asked and earned a joyful giggle. You etched a smile. “He is excited too. How about Jung-jae samchon, Byung-hun samchon, and everyone else?” You say the names of the famous actors and Hwa-young continues to giggle out loud. 
Once finishing her outfit, you take your child, purse, and baby bag, ready to leave the apartment. It’s very spacious with a gorgeous view of the city and perfect for a family of three. You enter your car to buckle up Hwa-young in her seat. She is seven months old and is close to the stage where she can walk. She has been crawling and it amazes her parents how fast she moves. Maybe one day she’ll become athletic like Ha-joon. 
You shut the driver’s door and start up the vehicle. “Ready baby?” You reached your hand behind your seat to touch Hwa-young’s small hand. She shakes yours as a response. You chuckle, “Okay. Let’s go!” You begin exiting the parking lot and making your way to the studio. It’ll be another long filming day, but Hwa-young will brighten the mood as you work. 
The thirty-minute drive was smooth, considering it was the weekend and usually gets hectic. You arrived at the place and parked the car. “We’re here, baby.” You tell your daughter, who babbles so cutely. You then gathered yourself to help Hwa-young out of her seat and take your belongings. A mother is always carrying a lot of stuff so it’s typical. 
You have your ID badge around your neck for access management and a sense of identity. All of your colleagues wear them because working in the film industry is like working in an ordinary job but with celebrities. People must know your name to communicate and cooperate with you. And it’s to show you are working for the production team. 
As soon as you walk in, the staff members greet you and Hwa-young, more like going frantic when they see her. She does the same by flailing her arms with a big smile. 
After saying hello to the staff members, you go to your office. While going through the hallways in a big studio, you see the cast members are together in a room, rehearsing their lines. 
Ha-nuel is the first person to see you and Hwa-young. “Y/N! Princess! Hello!” A large smile plays on his handsome face. In unison, the men and women are ecstatic to see you both. 
Jung-jae reaches out his arms. “Come to samchon!” He beams at the sight of the baby. You handed Hwa-young to the star of the show. She instantly got comfortable in his arms. “You’re much bigger now,” Jung-jae said, kissing her forehead. Byung-hun is next to him and he gently pokes Hwa-young's soft chubby cheek. “You look so pretty today. Are you a real angel?” He asked and his index finger got held by Hwa-young’s little hands. 
You and the actors and actresses laughed merrily at the precious interaction. One by one, they all take turns holding Hwa-young because she is their mood booster and is clearly enjoying it. Your baby should be called, ”Little Miss Popular.” 
Si-wan was the last person to hold her and she squished his cheeks, hard. “Hwa-young-ah! Samchon loves you too!” He cried out through the pain yet allowed her to do whatever she wanted. Yu-ri takes out her phone to snap a picture. “Aww so cute!” She gushed at the moment and everyone did the same thing—taking videos and pictures of Si-wan getting attacked by Hwa-young.
Ae-sim says, “For such a tiny being she is strong.” The oldest of the cast is amazed by Hwa-young’s growth. You nodded, “Ha-joon’s child through and through.” You and the people can see the resemblance. 
Then, the man of the hour walks into the room. He is wearing all black, fluffy dark hair down, and the slight stubble on his upper lip is showing. Ha-joon’s appearance looks mysterious and cold but he quickly smiles when he spots the love of his life and princess. 
“Wow, this room is cheery.” Ha-joon comments on the upbeat atmosphere. You tell him, “Well your daughter has the effect.” You watch Hwa-young pulling on Si-wan’s hair. 
Ha-joon snickered and helped his friend out. “You little mischief. Are you stealing people’s hearts?” He gingerly takes his daughter into his arms and nuzzles his nose against her nose. She squeals at the ticklish touch.
Seo-hwan speaks out of the blue, “Just like her father.” His comment has the cast and you laughing, jovially. Ha-joon blushed and Hwa-young looked clueless. Dong-uk cleared his throat from laughing too much. “She will become a heart stealer when she grows older.” He stated, which has the father chuckling nervously. 
“I hope not,” Ha-joon replied in a playful yet stern voice. You sighed and rolled your eyes because you expected him to be overprotective. 
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shomatoriashi · 4 months ago
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10/02/24; 01:06pm
sung jinwoo x fem.reader
anonymous asked: Hi, I have brain rot hours. So, what about Sung Jinwoo who believes that his significant other is his lucky charm? For example, he kisses them every time before he leaves them for a raid, and always comes back with new soldiers, abilities, or something of the sort. Or, in general, comes out with zero injuries. I know he breezes through raids easily, but it's such a cute idea! >w<
ever since sung jinwoo chose to live his life as a hunter, wishing to provide for his family in the wake of his father’s disappearance-
he always knew you were his good luck charm.
even during the times where he was still labeled as the weakest in the world, he felt that your sole presence was enough to ward off the looming threat of death.
you were someone he had known during his high school years, a mere civilian who had normal parents and wished for nothing more than to live a simple life, even with the existence of gates. you stuck by his side, never once minding his average looks or the way he dressed meekly, wearing plain hoodies and ripped jeans.
jinwoo recalls the day he spoke to you about his goals of becoming a hunter; that even though his powers were a bit weaker and below average in comparison to everyone else, he still had to do something to care for his little sister and sickly mother. and yet despite the concerned eyes that look back at him along with your anxieties, you supported him unconditionally.
that was the moment jinwoo knew he had fallen for you, clinging to you while promising you how he would work hard to build a future together with you. your own kind smile was enough to cause a surge of confidence to go through him, giving him the strength to continue on as a hunter.
now, it became a bit of a tradition for him to embrace you tightly while sharing a kiss with you before attending any raids. your words of encouragement would always echo in his mind, giving him the courage he needed to face the dangers of each raid.
from nights spent tending to his every wound to comforting him each time the nightmares became too much to bear-
you were always there for him, even when he was at his worst.
and you sure as hell deserved him now that he was at his best.
following the events of the double dungeon, jinwoo was able to escape death, obtaining a second chance by becoming the sole player for the system. and through a series of well calculated events, he was able to shed his once meek and weak self, becoming stronger than ever.
now known as south korea’s 10th s-rank hunter, jinwoo quickly became a sought after hunter worldwide, with hundreds upon thousands of people wishing to have him join their guilds or attend certain raids with them.
yet even with this drastic change, one thing remained the same-
and that was you.
you were still his good luck charm.
before entering a gate or doing a mission for the association, jinwoo would still embrace you tightly while giving you a searing kiss, stating how it was for good luck, allowing all of his anxieties and fears to melt away as he basks in your loving embrace. after his kiss, you would always reassure him, telling him that you would wait for his homecoming.
despite how silly it felt to be jinwoo’s proclaimed good luck charm, your boyfriend still swears that you give him good fortune. from mining thousands of crystals that could sell for millions, to obtaining a rare key to a mysterious dungeon, and even having a significant increase in shadow soldiers-
every single one of his greatest achievements were linked to you.
and you prayed that you could forever remain as his good luck charm, especially now during his time of need. not long after jinwoo’s mother woke up from her slumber, a powerful gate appeared in the midst of japan, and jinwoo was torn at the thought of leaving you and his family behind to deal with the raid.
you knew that jinwoo said that the gates had nothing to do with him, that he would remain in seoul.
however, you knew him better than that. jinwoo left your place after lunch, wishing to check on his sister and mother while promising to come back home to you after dinner. you simply gave him your usual kiss and tight embrace, allowing him to go back home as you prepared some things for him.
later that night, jinwoo returns home to see various tupperware containers filled with premade meals that should last a few weeks. his grey eyes widen at the sight of it all, mouth parted in a slight gape as he steps into your kitchen.
“these meals are for you and jinho, when you head to japan.” you tell him without looking back at him, already scooping a new batch of rice into fresh containers with some seasoned side dishes placed within it. “i know you well, jinwoo, and there’s no way in hell you would leave innocent people in need.”
jinwoo remains silent for a few more beats before shaking his head, already coming closer to you. with his arms wrapped around your front, jinwoo pulls your back closer to his chest, placing you flushed against him while pressing a kiss against your temple.
“how could i ever live without you?” he asks you with a teasing tone, eyes filled with love for you. you smile and meet his gaze, matching his expression when you frame at his face with your two hands.
“hm, i don’t know…. but you need someone like me to keep you grounded.”
“damn right i do.” he admits to you with a grunt, leaning in to kiss you deeply. with a sigh, you open up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and taste you. he acts like today would be his last day on earth, kissing you like his life depended on it all while delving his fingers into your hair.
when you became dizzy, and the need for air became too much, jinwoo pulls away from the kiss first, smiling down at you before pressing a kiss against your forehead.
“a kiss for good luck.”
you giggle and finish with your usual sentence for him, “and i’ll be here, waiting for your safe return.”
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all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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doitforbangchan · 1 year ago
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All Bark and No Bite
Chapter 1
It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')
Series masterlist
Alternate Universe SKZ!
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
Previous - Next
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Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family.  What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?
Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)
MDNI 18+
Wc: 2400 ish
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 
You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough. 
That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones. 
Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.
All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary. 
You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.
All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.
You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck. 
 “Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.
Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love. 
It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.
“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.” 
Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.
From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them. 
The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.
Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you. 
__________________________________________________________
The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head. 
Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed! 
Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach. 
There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one. 
Fuck
You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror. 
There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead. 
The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight. 
     With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt. 
“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled. 
Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.  
You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you. 
Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes. 
__________________________________________________________
The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.  
The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.
Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path. 
Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly. 
You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!” 
He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation.  Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.” 
__________________________________________________________
What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.
Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating. 
You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.
 ‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.  
You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before. 
“Omega..” 
(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)
©doitforbangchan 
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misspeppermint2003 · 2 years ago
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Manolo Sanchez and his mother Carmen from The Book of Life (United States of America/Mexico)
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Elsa, Anna and their mother Queen Iduna from Disney's Frozen (United States of America/Scandinavia)
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Sophie Sheridan and her mother Donna from Mammia Mia (United States of America)
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Moomintroll and his mother Moominmamma from Moominvalley (Finland/Sweden/United Kingdom/Canada)
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Ali and his mother Aliya from Ejen Ali (Malaysia)
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kooggukk · 5 days ago
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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 NOBODY ELSE // JJK
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genre: fwb, fuck buddies😼
note: guys i just want jungkook.. this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long haha sorry for spelling mistakes or anything i got too lazy to proofread it lol! enjoy tho💕
word count: 4.3k
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being invited by jungkook’s mother for a dinner was normal for you and your family. you and jungkook grew up being neighbors, attend to the same high school and college later on — which he dropped out of.
it wasn’t because he’s dumb, he’s nowhere near that. he got bored, tired. his mother didn’t like the news when he told her, but she didn’t have a choice, other than to support his dream. jungkook always wished to be a singer.
some of his closest friends joked about it and laughed at the idea of jungkook being a worldwide celebrity. we could say that affected him a lot, he felt zero support from both sides: family & friends. he would often spend his days in his house, sitting on a particular part of his couch.
maybe you know him too well, you know that when he’s writing a song he would get a glass of beer, place it carefully on his coffee table, get his black notebook with his pen that he would click continuously when he’s deep in thoughts.
you know he would knee on the soft mattress beneath him, sitting on his feet like a cutie, focus on the lyrics with his big doe eyes.
you also know he would obviously play with his lip piercing, licking it, turning his tongue around it and what not. oh what that tongue can do.
the amount of times he had eaten you out on his couch, — on that spot of the couch — you wouldn’t even be able to count on your ten fingers. your friendship with him was different.
different, because you support him and understand him in a way nobody else had yet. but different because he fucks you, like crazy. he had fucked you in every way possible. fast, rough, deep, gentle, slow, anal. the last one was just once, though.
it all started at your birthday party, when you turned 25. you got wasted, he got tipsy, he knew about his whereabouts unlike you. he knew what was going on when he fucked you first, but what was he supposed to do when a woman like you, was literally begging to fuck you.
he felt guilty, he felt like he took advantage of the alcohol in your system. but when you woke up in the morning, with jungkook next to you, cuddled up, you didn’t freak out. you knew what happened, and you didn’t regret it. nor did he.
you know it shouldn’t be right, that it shouldn’t feel that good to get fucked by your best friend but god, you can’t help it. he admitted it, he finds you attractive. you find him it too.
but you both talked it out, no feelings. he told you he’d never want anything else from you other than your friendship and pussy.
and now, you’re sitting at the dining table with jungkook in front of you, his mother next to him and his father at the end. your mother on the other end as your father is next to you.
it’s normal, the atmosphere was comfortable and funny. the adults discussing work related stuff, your and his mother had already gossiped about someone else too.
it was a perfect night, except that jungkook hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire dinner, except when he got asked a question. you scolded him, non verbally with your eyes.
he’s a jerk. he just fucked you the night before, not on his couch this time though. it was in his kitchen, where he got too turned on by seeing you cut a cucumber. yes, a dang cucumber.
“so ___, i heard you finished college.” his mother spoke to you, your gaze turned to her and you smiled. “oh yes, last week actually.”
“what major were you in?” his father joined in. “psychology.” your mother interrupted and reached over to rub your back, feeling extremely proud of her daughter. you smiled, “i’m thinking about going back, i’ve been researching a lot on nursing lately.”
your eyes stopped on jungkook once again. he’s leaned back in the chair, one arm resting on the back of his mother’s chair, the other resting on his thigh. his chin is slightly lifted, looking at you as he plays with his lip piercing. fuck.
the parents continued the conversation, telling different stories about nurses as that came up. jungkook leans back to the table, resting his chin with his hands, elbows on the table.
he stares at you, not uttering a single word. you give him a small frown, not too noticeable. his eyes drop to your neck, then your chest or atleast what only was visible, then back to your eyes. you chuckled and shook your head in disbelief, he’s seriously thinking of sex right now.
you’ve tried to keep your ‘let’s fuck’ relationship with jungkook private, not going around and telling every second person that ‘hey i fuck my best friend!’. the only person who might know that you and him slept together is one of your friends from college, she saw you and jungkook that one night. the first night.
she hasn’t asked about it though, thankfully. it’s not like it was her business, so she dropped it. you knew he wouldn’t try anything with you in public, especially not in front of your parents. so that’s why it caught you off guard when you felt his leg touch yours, slightly nudging it.
you cleared your throat as you jumped a little from the surprise, a smirk on his lips as he stared at your flustered form. you cussed him out in your head, ‘fuck you’ you mouthed and he just raised a brow at that.
you rolled your eyes as you realized he wouldn’t mind that, his eyes still devouring the sight of you, almost fucking you with his eyes at this point. you don’t even wanna know what he’s thinking about at the moment.
“jungkookie, have you found yourself a girlfriend?” your mother asked, catching his attention. he fixed his posture and shook his head, “no, i’m not looking for a relationship at the moment.”
“he’s such a liar!” his mother pointed at him, “i know he’s seeing someone.” she said and took a sip of her wine. “am i?” he raised his eyebrow, his voice laced with confusion. “deny it all you want, but i found a lipstick in your pocket when you came home.”
his expression changed, his eyes somewhat turned nervous, scared even. you stared at him with a small smirk, taking a sip of your soda. he glanced at you, “must’ve been ___’s.” he chuckled and shook his head.
“and why would her lipstick be in your pocket?” his mother asked, obviously she didn’t believe him. “we came here together, i believe she put it there so she could use it if her makeup gets smudged.” he shrugged.
he was right, that was in fact the reason you put it there. “oh yeah, it’s mine.” you said, a small smile appearing on your lips. his mother nodded and with that the conversation was over. thank god.
as everyone finished eating, your and his mother disappeared into the kitchen, your fathers went outside to have a beer while ‘man talking’ or however they called it. leaving you and jungkook alone.
“you wanna die?” you scolded him, your voice was quiet not to get caught. “i swear junkook, i’ll choke you.” he grinned and rested his head on his hands, smiling at you like a child. “what?” you asked.
“choke me? is that your new kink?” he teased, his foot finding yours again under the table. you clicked your tongue and crossed your arms, “do you ever stop thinking about sex?”
“nope. impossible when you’re around me, babe.” there he goes again, he always somehow finds a way to get you hot. he just knows what to say every time. “you’re unbelievable.” you can’t help but to smile with a shake of your head.
“what? you’re acting like you didn’t just strip me off with your eyes.” he teased and you gasped, “i did not-“ you stuttered, you got caught. “you’re the one to speak.” you argued back.
“i’m not denying it, i did wish to rip that pretty blouse off you.”
“i dare you, it was expensive. the only thing ripping will be your balls when i beat you up.” he scoffed at your words. “c’mon, you wouldn’t do that.”
“you think so?” you raised an eyebrow and he hummed in response. “how would i fuck you without balls?” again, he just knows what to say to drive you crazy.
“touché.” you mumbled and raised your glass to take a sip again.
✩•.𖣠°˙★
the evening came to an end as you both bid goodbye to your parents, you thanked his mother for the delicious meal. he offered to take you home and you agreed, assuming you’d end up at his place anyways. but your parents didn’t have to know about that.
and it happened just like that, the moment you stepped in his home you were pushed to the wall with force. you gasped, jungkook didn’t leave a single second for you to react as he attacked your lips, kissing you.
he held your face in place by your cheeks, your small reticule dropped from your hand as you hugged him close, kissing him back with just as much force and desperation as he did.
his right hand went to grab your ass, then holding your thigh as you lifted it up. he immediately pushed himself closer to you, grinding his growing erection against you.
not wanting to fuck you right at the front door, he dragged you to his living room, pushing you on the couch. he grinned at you and he dropped to his knees, the loud thud must have been hurtful, but he didn’t waste a single second.
he eagerly gripped the hem of your jeans, undoing it and pulling it off you, lifting your hips to help him. “hm, good.” he praised you for that small action of yours, his voice enough to create an ocean in your panties.
he touched your knees and thighs, caressing your skin while he leaned in to plant kisses on your inner thigh. he pulled you a little down, holding your legs tightly and he spread them. “don’t close.” he demanded, his voice hoarse and it sent you shivers down your spine.
you gasped once again when you felt him kiss you on your panties, he pulled away to take off his black turtleneck sweater but went right back in, pulling off your panties in a second.
the cold air hit your core immediately, but soon replaced by the heat coming from his body. he licked a stripe down your pussy, getting a hum out of you at the familiar feeling of his mouth working on you.
your mouth fell agape when he sucked on your clit, your hands finding their way to his black hair, getting a great hold of them. he groaned at your action, he knows you like to get a hold of his hair, so he hasn’t cut it in some months now.
he pulled away, you almost whined about him stopping but then he spread your folds with his fingers, spreading your wetness on his digits. he glanced up at you when he brought them to his lips, licking them.
he hummed, “love it.” he said, his voice a low growl. one of his hand rests on your thigh, gripping it softly. the other goes to your core again, inserting his finger in you. his head goes back down, disappearing between your legs once again as he starts sucking again, his finger pumping into you.
your back arched, unintentionally. “oh, fuck,” your breath hitched, he smirked against you. he added another of his long digits, curling them inside you, he pulled away as he stared into your eyes, then his gaze dropped to his hand working on you.
he groaned at the sight, he’s slept with girls before you, it was obvious he was experienced, but he could swear on his life your pussy was the prettiest he has ever seen in his whole life.
“so pretty,” his voice was teasing and you gasped his name, pulling his head up. “shut up,” your voice was a low murmur and he raised an eyebrow at your sass.
“what? can’t i call what’s mine pretty?” he chuckled and shook his head, secretly adding a third finger. “i don’t want your fingers,” you whined, your hips moving on their own. “i need to get you stretched, babe.” he grinned and he continued, his three fingers now going in a slower pace.
“no,” you stopped his hand, “i’m okay, just-“ you licked your lips, his gaze dropping to them. “shit, just fuck me already.” your voice was more like a whisper, full of need. “you’re tight, i don’t want to hurt you.” he argued back, but his fingers were already out of you as he wiped them in his jeans.
you sat up straight on the couch, closing your legs. “c’mon, you fucked me enough already. i can take you,” he couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh and he nodded, “love that you speak your mind.”
with that said, he got up from the floor and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “i’ll be back,” that one small action of his is why you trust him, how you know that he is the right guy to be fuck buddies with.
he can be rough during sex, there’s no doubt in that, but you had experienced gentle sex too with him. roughness isn’t always necessary to get rid of the sexual frustration, and maybe, maybeeeee, you like it more when he’s gentle with you.
you like it more when his body is pressed against yours, slowly moving with the rhythm of his deep thrusts, you love it when he goes to hold your hand, either above your head or next to you, it doesn’t matter. you love it when he stares in your eyes with every thrust. unlike during rough sex, when his eyes are either closed or focused on your tits.
soon he comes back, a pack of condom with him, some tissues and a towel. “what’s the towel for?” you ask, he never brought one before. he smiled at that and when he got to you, he plopped down on the couch. “just in case.” he shrugged but you felt suspicious, he was up to something.
he put everything aside and leaned in, crashing his lips on yours once again. “how do you want it?” he asked when he pulled away, but he still managed to give a soft peck on your nose.
you frowned because he usually wasn’t like this, wasn’t so affectionate. sure, in other ways he was, especially after sex. he always takes care of you, but he never just pecks you in random places and asks how you want it.
“however you want me.” you shrugged. “you’re up to something, you’re suspicious.” you narrowed your eyes at him and he grinned. “suspicious?” he asked as he started to unbutton your blouse. you hummed and leaned back, letting him do it.
“i’m not suspicious.” he said and kissed the skin just above your breasts, he pulled the clothing off your shoulders when he finished with all the buttons, leaving you in your bra.
“you’re very detailed tonight, aren’t you?” you sighed and reached behind, undoing your bra with a smooth move. “detailed?” he frowned and reached to his belt, unbuckling it.
you hummed and reached to unzip his jeans, with a lift of his hips you pulled it down, his dick begging to be freed from his white underwear. you could feel yourself throb by just the thought of having sex with him again, when in fact you just did it yesterday too.
“it don’t bite.” jungkook chuckled when he saw you were just staring, god, almost drooling at this point. you rolled your eyes, holding the hem of the underwear. you pulled it off, his dick sprang free.
you could let anyone call you stupid, you don’t care but for sure you know that jungkook’s dick is pretty. of course it would be, that whole man is a god. he sighed in pleasure when you wrapped your fingers around him, his head thrown back.
you started off slowly, stroking him with smooth, unrushed moves as you watched his face. his eyes closed, mouth open and eyebrows knitted together. soon you picked up your pace, earning low groans and sometimes even moans from him.
you started to kiss his neck, nibbling on his soft skin. he cursed, it was his favorite when you kissed his body. his breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with every breath he took.
“shit, ___.” he uttered a low groan, “don’t stop, oh- please..” you hummed at his begging, jerking him off as fast as you could. he was close, you know well enough to see when he has an orgasm.
you see the way his thighs occasionally stiff, his grip on the pillow that reached his hand first is tight. and then you see his eyes staring down at you, sometimes rolling back and closing, then opening them again. you see how his mouth is agape, his low groans turning into soft moans and cries, his brows crashed together on his forehead.
he was just straight up mesmerizing. sometimes you felt like the luckiest woman on earth that you could capture him in this state. which he was in because of you, nobody else.
“please plea-“ his voice cracked, ending it with a louder moan as he reached his orgasm, spilling his white juice on your hand. you didn’t stop there, you slowed down your pace, but you just couldn’t stop.
he hissed when he started to feel sensitive, bringing his head straight back up from the backrest to look at you. “___, don’t,” he whined. you cupped his chin, pressing a soft, feather-light kiss on his rosy lips.
he lazily responded to it, barely moving his lips. he brought his hand on yours, stopping you from jerking him. you pulled away, “just give me a second, babe,” his voice came out hoarse, your heart skipped a beat and your pussy throbbed by the nickname.
he licked his lips, clearing his voice. “you still with me?” you smiled, your hand reaching to his hair, gently pulling a few strands of them. he scoffed and fixed his posture, his hand grabbing your thigh.
“you gotta do more than just a handjob to lose me.”
“more? i can do more.” you mumbled, your face already in his neck, kissing his skin once again.
“i know you can,” his hand went from your thigh to your hip, helping you straddle his lap. you both moved naturally, riding him is definitely in your top 3 positions.
you quickly handed him a condom from the box which he put on in a second and just like every time, your arms went around his neck, grabbing onto his shoulder while he hugged your body close to his with one of his arms, the other hand holding his cock, he carefully entered, stretching you good like he always does.
he sighed in content, enjoying your warm walls clenching around him. you hummed, letting yourself down completely on him, only to go back up, then to smash back down.
his hands grabbed your ass while you did that, helping you keep the steady rhythm. his head was now thrown back once again, you watched his adam’s apple bob when he swallowed, his mouth fell open.
you kissed his neck again, wherever you could reach. for some reason, it was your favorite spot to kiss, under his jaw, behind and under his ear, just right above his collarbone, you loved it.
oh how much he loved it too, your kisses were always wet but never to the point to leave his skin covered in saliva. you were always so gentle with him, maybe that’s what he loved the most.
he had been with a few girls before who would stupidly and harshly just bite down on his skin, leaving ugly marks all over his neck and shoulders, but with you, never. it could be to just avoid any attention by giving him hickies, or it could be because you found it too intimate, too romantic.
whatever the reason was, he knew he sometimes wished, maybe even prayed that this time you would mark him, even if it’s the smallest spot on his skin. of course, he would never tell you to do that, though. marking really does feel too intimate, and he was afraid he would cross a line with you.
he realized what he was missing out on, so he held his head up, looking at you move. your breasts moved just enough to catch his eyes. his fingers dug in your asscheeks as your own hands explored his body, from caressing his chest, then slightly brushing your fingers over his nipples, down to his ribs, and to his abs.
he felt you slowing down, “s’okay, take a break,” he whispered and you did so, stopping your movements. your chest was rising rapidly, sweat forming on both of your foreheads.
he softly pecked your cheek, lifting you up by your ass just enough so he can start pushing upwards into you. he didn’t rush anything, going slowly at a comfortable pace. “you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching for yours.
you sighed, giving him a nod but he shook his head. “words,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your skin just above your breasts.
“i’m okay,”
he groaned when you clenched around him, he felt himself slowly slipping down on the couch with each thrust he made, so he held you tightly, switching positions.
he made you lay down on your back, your legs wrapped around his waist without slipping out of you. he picked up a slow pace at first, his hands roaming around your body, mostly your sides.
you held his hand, “stop,” you whined, your sides are hella ticklish. “hm? what? can’t handle a little caressing?” he teased, moving his hand so slightly over your skin you got goosebumps.
you tried to push his hand away but you failed, his touches made you giggle and he smiled, glad he could still have moments like this with you in the middle of literally fucking.
all of that stopped when he suddenly smashed himself deep into you, a little harder than he did before. you couldn’t help but to moan, he straightened his posture and he spread your legs, holding your knees.
just like when you were riding him, your breasts bounced again, drawing the attention on them. he picked up the speed of his thrusts, sweat dropping from his forehead, down to his chest where it slowly dripped down his body.
“so a nurse, huh?” he suddenly said, referring to the conversation you had at the dinner. “would love to fuck this pussy in a nursing costume.” a low moan left his mouth when you clenched around him, “ya like that?” he laughed. “you want it too, yeah?”
“shut up- oh my!” your mouth fell agape in pleasure when you felt a finger pressing down on your clit, moving in every way possible. up and down, side to side, making circles. he wasn’t too rough, he knew it was one of your most sensitive parts of your body.
the top of his thighs slapped against the back of yours with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping on each other got mixed with the noise of your wet folds taking his dick, the couch slightly creaking along with heavy breathing and occasional quiet moans, whines.
you felt yourself getting closer and closer, the familiar feeling already in your stomach. you felt like you were going to explode, your eyes shut tightly as you bite down on your lip, your body ready to let go.
after a few more of his thrusts you let go, but oh! turns out it wasn’t just your usual orgasm, no, you squirted under him. he pulled out, watching your body shake and then slowly relax. “fuck,” you breathed heavily, you could have sworn you saw stars.
“did i s-“
“yes. you squirted.” he said, like that was something casual. you thought it was over, that he was done but then he did the unexpected, he pushed back in. “just a little- longer,” his words came out in gasps, pounding into you to reach his own climax too.
you whined, you felt extremely sensitive and it was slowly turning to be the opposite of pleasure, “i know, just a little more,” his voice was soft, he knew it was too much but he needed that orgasm.
then, his thrusts suddenly stopped, staying still inside you as he filled the condom, a low groan leaving his lips. he licked them, feeling like his mouth just turned drier than a desert. he pulled out and leaned down to peck your lips, “you did good,” he whispered.
you hummed, your fingers already touching your core, the wetness surprising you. “dang..” you both chuckled, you sat up and looked down, feeling uncomfortable. there was a wet spot on the towel under you, “you bitch, that’s why you needed the towel.” you shook your head in disbelief, “scared i’ll stain your sofa?”
he smiled and tilted his head, resting his ass on his heels. “actually, yes. you know it was expensive.”
“then, maybe you shouldn’t fuck me on it?”
he chuckled, “maybe, but i don’t care. you’re worth it all.”
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lazycats-stuff · 5 months ago
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Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily
Sure thing. Damn, Bruce is really mister Worldwide.
Summary: (Y/N) is Mexican. Everyone is curious.
Warnings: nothing bad, talking about Mexican culture, which is really cool with the day of the dead honestly,
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Bruce has been thinking about getting a vasectomy, since he has found out about (Y/N), his son who was born and is being raised in Mexico. Bruce slept with a model and hence, (Y/N) was born. His mother loved him, but she wanted (Y/N) to go to the USA, to get a safer life and better education.
Bruce, being ever so suspicious, decided to do a DNA test, just in case. You just never know and Bruce didn't want to be used for his money and a green card for the boy that wasn't his. And once a DNA test showed that Bruce was the father, he took it upon himself to get (Y/N) into the USA and to get him his citizenship.
And immigration is not fun to deal with, everyone knows that. After pulling some connections, (Y/N) managed to get to the USA on a visa for now at least. Bruce has started the process right away with an immigration lawyer, the best on he could find in Gotham city. And since last name Wayne opens up a lot of doors everywhere, Bruce has decided to use that to his advantage.
The boys were not shocked by the news of another biological son. Damian wasn't afraid or threatened and unlike the first time he came to the manor, he's established himself as a biological son. And (Y/N) is a year younger than Damian anyway, so Damian welcomed (Y/N), but of course, it would take time for everyone to adjust to the new addition to the family.
Once (Y/N) settled down in the manor, Bruce sat him down to talk about everything moving forward. Bruce told (Y/N) that he will never prohibit any aspect of his culture and that if there are holidays that are important to him, that they would celebrate it. Bruce didn't want (Y/N) to lose his culture. He wanted (Y/N) to be proud of his culture and seeing the beaming smile on (Y/N)'s face made it all worth it.
So, the two decided to make a list of holidays that are important to him and that they were going to celebrate. (Y/N) made sure to put Día de los Muertos, alongside  Cinco de Mayo and El Grito de Independencia. Which (Y/N) clarified for his brothers. Cinco de Mayo commemorates the bravery of Mexican soldiers who made the French army retreat. El Grito de Independencia is the actual independence day, where they got their independence from Spain.
For some reason, Americans think that Cinco de Mayo is their independence day, which (Y/N) doesn't understand why Americans would think so. Like why? Do they not like to research? (Y/N) couldn't understand it, but decided to let it go since maybe Cinco the Mayo is far more easier to remember for them... No, that doesn't make any sense in that.
Maybe he'll never know.
(Y/N) was doing just fine in school. Bruce noticed how hard working he was. And it wasn't like Bruce had to force him to, he was just doing it on his own. Bruce wondered why, since he was a good student before coming to the USA. (Y/N) just explained how his mother taught that hard work is something that will make him succeed in life. She told him her story of hard work and how she became successful.
And Bruce understood why. (Y/N)'s mom didn't have connections and a last name that could open doors and simply pave the way. Bruce understood that and agreed that his mom did good. You can't expect that last name open up doors for you. Because anything can crumble when you least expect it.
So Bruce encouraged (Y/N) to take breaks, since it's not good to study for a long time. (Y/N) nodded and understood that. He promised Bruce that he would try his best to take breaks and Bruce smiled, knowing that he can't force change over night.
Jason on the other hand, needed help. He couldn't understand Spanish for the life of him. And he asked (Y/N) for help. And (Y/N) was surprisingly a good teacher. Teaching him how to pronounce certain sounds and taught him more than the teacher did. Jason was thankful and (Y/N) had no problem giving him tips he needed to remember certain things.
Dick was more interested in his culture. What were certain traditions of Mexican culture? What were values there? What is something you shouldn't do there? What should you do there? Dick was always more interested in learning about other cultures.
That turned into a nice during dinner. (Y/N) explained his roots and culture to them, beating a few stereotypes along the way and everyone listen intently. (Y/N) also said that he would like to celebrate the Día de los Muertos, reminding them that it start from the eve of October 31st until November 2nd. Bruce nodded having no problem.
What did shock Bruce was that (Y/N) revealed that he made an altar of Martha and Thomas Wayne. Bruce didn't know about it, but wasn't mad. (Y/N) explained what it meant to have an altar. It would mean having pictures of the deceased, alongside some candles and a cross. (Y/N) also added their favorite flowers.
Bruce was touched by that. To have his parents honored and remembered like that was... Touching. And a bit better than the way they do it here in America...
" Can you show the altar to me? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) nodded.
" I will papa. " (Y/N) sipped his water and Bruce nodded. After dinner, (Y/N) would show Bruce the altar of Martha and Bruce Wayne. It was a simply altar, with pictures, probably provided by Alfred, favorite flowers, just like (Y/N) said. There was also a cross.
" And it's normally that simple? " Bruce asked, curiously.
" Well on the Day of the Dead, we make ofrendas, in English language that means offerings. We leave water in the pitcher so that the spirits can quench their thirst, paper banners that are traditional and they represent wind and then we have earth which is normally bread. Then you have candles that are often arranged to look like a cross, so that the spirits can find their way, " (Y/N) explained and Bruce nodded.
" Also, some altars have level. Most elaborate ones have have seven levels, but most have 3 levels. And we also have flowers in Mexico that grow a lot and have a strong smell that is said that spirits are attracted to it to visit their mortal loved ones, " (Y/N) added and Bruce was going to get those flowers for (Y/N), no matter what connections he had to pull.
Bruce nodded as he listened more. He really liked this holiday. It was nice and you can feel closer to your lost ones, rather than in America where you bury your loved ones and then simply visit their grave. Bruce never thought about the spirit of his dead loved ones would come.
But he liked the Mexican mindset on that matter.
" That's a nice way of thinking. That their spirits try to come and visit... " Bruce trailed off, smiling at the altar.
" Whatever you need for the altar, you'll get it. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you. "
(Y/N) nodded, knowing that Bruce would do that.
" Well, you can help with cleaning up the grave, since we take care of the graves to put some offerings there. Oh, you and the rest of the family need to learn a lot. " (Y/N) crossed his arms as he chuckled, Bruce chuckling alongside him.
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