#SO ANYONE OUT THERE LOW-KEY AFRAID OF ME

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! I had a request I’d like to give you. I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never slept beside anybody before bc intimacy isn’t something she’s used to therefore she’s not used to being that close to anybody. everytime she shifts she’s afraid to wake up the boys, or she just doesn’t know what to do.

I know you have “first night with marauders” so if this is too similar I totally get it. 🖤

Hello sweetheart, thank you for your request!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 990 words

You’re terrible at this. 

Each of the boys is sound asleep. Sirius has his leg hooked over yours and one of his arms tossed over James’ chest, Remus’ hand has to be halfway numb underneath your pillow, and James is snoring softly on the far side of the bed from you. They’re all so obviously comfortable, practiced in resting like this, whereas you started to get stiff a half hour ago and you’ve been unable to make yourself relax since. 

Every movement takes a year, you’re trying so hard not to wake them. You feel like the girl in a movie who’s trying to sneak out of the bed of a one-night stand, all taut muscles and bated breath, except you only want to roll over. Slow, microscopic movements have to be the key. 

Your back crackles softly when you shift your weight onto your other hip, and a sigh escapes you before you can stop it. 

A low, croaky hum comes from just in front of your face. Your brain is a tempest of expletives. 

“Hey.” You can nearly feel the gravel of Remus’ voice buzzing against your lips. “You’re up.” 

Muddled with sleep, you can’t tell if his tone is reprimanding or simply observational. “Sorry,” you whisper regardless. 

“Wha’ for?” Movement under the pillow beneath your head, and then a long-fingered hand is nestling beneath your cheek. His scars and calluses slide familiarly over your skin. “Can’t sleep?”

Nope, and now it’s two of you. Guilt grows vines around your ribcage. Remus sounds more awake by the second. 

“I’ll be okay.” You press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, hoping to mollify him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Your boyfriend makes a half-aware disgruntled sound. “No, not without you.” 

As exhausted as you are, you have to bite down on a smile. When he’s uninhibited like this, Remus really is quite the flirt, all his dorky, sweet thoughts coming out before he can remember to stop them. He’s nearly as bad as James. 

You think he must see a hint of your smile in the dark, because Remus’ own lips tilt upwards. He leans closer to kiss the cool skin of your cheek, the only cold part of you thanks to a heavy duvet and the body heat of three lovely boyfriends. A kiss for a kiss. 

He leaves his lips there as he murmurs, “What’s wrong, dove?” 

Well, funny he should ask. What’s wrong now is the slight tickle of his stubble against your cheek, the hoarse quality to his voice in your ear. His breath warming your cold skin, and the hand he slides across the space between you to rest on your hip, layered in between the sheets and your pajama bottoms. 

But you know that’s not what he’s asking. 

“I can’t get very comfortable,” you confess, speaking so softly he wouldn’t be able to make it out if his ear weren’t two inches from your lips, “and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” 

Remus hums, as though this is a prognosis he’d already reached and was merely waiting for you to confirm. You can hear Sirius’ voice as clearly as if he were awake: know it all. 

“They can sleep through anything,” he says. “One time the fire alarm went off, and James didn’t even stir. Don’t worry about them.” You must be emanating guilt, because he strokes his thumb over your hip pacifyingly. “And I don’t mind being woken up. I’m in and out of sleep all night anyway, it’s not hard for me to get back. You’re not used to sleeping with so many people, yeah?” 

Your face warms at his phrasing, though of course you know what he means. “Or with anyone,” you murmur. 

“Mm. I think I know what you need.” 

You don’t realize Remus’ plan until he’s already sat up. He reaches over you, rubbing James’ shoulder gently while you protest vehemently through whispers. 

James wakes with a yawn, taking Remus’ hand automatically and bringing it close to his face. “Wha’s’it?”

“Take her,” Remus requests drowsily. With his other hand, he nudges you forward. 

James starts to blink his eyes open, and you see no way out. You start climbing over Sirius as delicately as you can. “Sorry,” you whisper, to him, to them, to the room in general. 

Remus helps you out by tugging Sirius into your place. The other boy whines but settles quickly, rolling over to sling his leg over Remus’ instead. 

James welcomes you as heartily as his sleep-addled state will allow, adjusting the covers over you and smudging a few toothpaste-scented kisses onto your face. 

“Y’can’t sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Sorry.” 

He makes a soft dismissive sound. “C’mere, angel.” 

You refrain from telling him that you’re already here as his arms find their way around you, soft and firm in all the right places and deliciously warm. He starts to make slow, sweeping circles onto your back with his hand. 

“Jamie,” you murmur, grateful but embarrassed, “don’t stay up for me. Go to sleep.” 

“M’basically there,” he replies. “You first, yeah?” 

You can hear Remus’ breathing evening out behind you, syncing with Sirius’, and you’re suddenly sure that this is part of a routine he and the boys shared before you ever met them. That’s how he knew to hand you off to James, and how James knew exactly what to do. Something about that comforts you. And far be it for you to mess with tradition. 

You shuffle closer to James under the covers. He obliges you happily, adjusting his grip so he’s holding you more securely, with your leg resting against his and your forehead an inch from his nose. The shushing of his heavy palm on the material of your pajama top is the only sound in the world. 

You hear his breathing starting to deepen again, but James is right; you beat him there. 

[screampied]

JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 

and you did. 

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 

so, what did you do? 

you silenced him…with a kiss. 

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out? 

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp. 

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 

“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 

“p-please.” you whimpered. 

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit. 

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 15

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14

Steve wishes it was raining. Instead, it’s a crisply cold day, but the sun’s shining brightly, illuminating Steve’s dour mood as he walks, unsure of where he’s even going.

The quarry’s miles away, holding his car and house keys hostage. So, he walks, and walks, and walks, aimless.

Chrissy’s probably still at Eddie’s, reading him the riot act, Jeff at her side, so she’s out. He doesn’t have anyone else—Tommy and Carol long since moving on to greener pastures, and no one on the basketball team would go out of their way to spit on him if he was on fire.

There’s always Nancy, but they’re ghosts in each other’s stories now, ships passing in the night.

He should walk to the quarry to pick up his car, and go home to his quiet, lonely house.

He calls Robin at the first pay phone he passes, digging around in his pocket for loose coins as he dials a number he hopes is hers. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Shit, Steve?” her tired voice turns frantic. “Are you oka—”

“Robin,” he cuts in, voice cracking just enough to shut her up. “Can I come over?”

The other line’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of her muffled breathing assuring Steve she hadn’t hung up. “Robin?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry!” she cries, then rattles off her address. “When will you be here?”

It’s a small town, so it only takes Steve a second to reorient himself, figure out the quickest path from where he is to Robin. “About fifteen minutes?” he guesses, not used to accounting for walking time.

Robin sighs, “oh, good,” that frantic edge finally bleeding out of her voice. “Hurry up, dingus, okay?”

He runs out of time before he can reply, phone kicking the dial tone back at him until he hangs it back up, the barrel of the phone rattling as he puts it back on the dirty receiver.

The sun’s low in the sky when he finally stands in front of an unassuming house with a dingy white door. He’s numb, tired to his bones as he knocks quietly on the front door.

Robin flies out, arms wrapping around Steve in a tight hug before he even realizes she’s there. Steve shudders and buries his face in her hair, hands shaking as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her further into his chest.

She pats his back awkwardly but doesn’t let go as she asks, “you okay, dingus?”

“No,” Steve murmurs, afraid of how his voice will come out if he talks any louder. “Can I come in?”

Robin lets go immediately, but Steve holds on a second longer, not wanting to lose her warmth. “You can hug me again in my room, Steve,” she says, arms awkwardly held down at her sides.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with one final squeeze to her middle.

When he finally lets go, fingers flexing in the cold air, Robin leads him into her house. She pulls him through the living room and up a set of stairs too quickly for Steve to get much of an impression past lived in and homey.

“I’ll be in my room!” Robin calls just before she shuts the door behind them, muffling what must be her mom’s response.

Robin’s bed’s messy, and there’s clothes all over her floor. The walls are covered in posters of bands he’s never heard of, pictures cut out of magazines, and little post-it note reminders.

While he gawks at his surroundings, Robin pulls him to her bed and pushes on his shoulders until he sits down on it. She then proceeds to wrestle her quilt away from her other blankets and drape it over his shoulders. Only then does Steve realize he’s shivering as the cold of the outside world slowly seeps out of his bones.

In here, as Robin sits down across from him, he feels safe, finally—safe and warm.

“Okay, spill,” she demands, taking any sting out of the order by reaching out and taking his hand.

Steve takes a breath, ready to heed her orders, before letting it all out. Where does he start? What does he say? Does he start with Jason? With the note to Chrissy? There’s just too much and it’s all tangled together.

But then she squeezes his hand and he says, “I told Eddie.”

He looks down at their linked hands, unwilling to meet her eyes as she prompts, “You told him…” in a hesitant voice.

“That I was the one writing the letters,” he replies. “That I like him, that it was never Chrissy.”

“Oh,” Robin says, scooting closer so their knees bump. He wishes, absurdly, that they were in that same boy’s bathroom stall for this conversation. “Oh, shit. Is he going to tell everyone? Oh my god, are you okay? What did he say?”

“Robin,” Steve cuts her off, knowing from experience that she’ll just keep on spiraling if he lets her. “He’s not going to talk to me anymore.”

And that, for the first time since everything started spiraling out of control, is what makes tears pool in his eyes. Eddie might tell everyone, and he might be run out of town, but that feels unimportant right now.

How can that matter when he’ll never go to another band practice or Dorks & Dragons session? How can that matter when Eddie will never smirk at something Steve says when he thinks Steve’s no longer looking? When he’ll never write another letter, or receive one back?

“I am so sorry, Steve,” she says, and she sounds it, even as she drops his hands to clutch at his face hard enough that his cheeks squish together. “But, are you stupid?”

“Hey!”

She loosens her hold long enough to wipe the few tears off his cheeks before clutching on tighter, nails digging into his cheeks. “I need you to listen to the words I’m saying,” she says, each word enunciated and slow like she thinks Steve’s stupid. “I know it hurts, but Eddie’s just some boy.”

She says the word “boy” like that in and of itself is some cardinal sin, mouth puckered up like it tastes bad on her tongue. Steve laughs, just a little, and she beams at him.

“He’s just a gross, icky boy, but you, Steve Harrington,” she says his name like it’s a revelation. “It has shocked me to my core, but I really, really like you, and I don’t want to have to kill Munson if he tells everyone in town about this, okay? Blood makes me squeamish.”

Steve laughs again, all tears and snot and gross-sounding phlegm. Robin grimaces, but doesn’t let go of him.

“Eddie won’t tell anyone,” Steve replies, pretty sure he’s telling the truth. “He’s too nice.”

She pulls his face closer, eyes boring into his as she says, “he made you cry,” like there is no worse crime. Steve loves her so much.

“I lied to him, Rob.”

Robin sighs, slumping into him until they both tumble down onto her unmade bed, quilts and sheets and comforters lumpy beneath them. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate him, alright?” she asks, shoving a stuffed elephant into his arms. Steve squeezes it to his chest and stares up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars taped up on her ceiling. “I don’t give a fuck about Munson—I’m here for you.”

And no matter how much he wants to defend Eddie, it’s a comfort to hear. With Chrissy and Jeff, he’s not sure where their loyalties will shake out. Eddie’s their friend, even if they’re Steve’s too. When their newly-forming group fractures at the seams, he’s not sure where they’ll land.

But, he’s got Robin, and maybe that’ll be enough.

“Can I spend the night?” he whispers. “I sort of left my car at the quarry along with my house keys.”

Robin spins around, her hair tickling Steve’s nose as she makes herself comfortable nestled into Steve’s side. “You’re a disaster,” she sighs, “but, yeah. Let me go ask my mom.”

*** 

In the morning, while Steve’s still starfished out on her bedroom floor, Chrissy calls. Robin’s mom is the one that picks up, but when she yells up the stairs, Robin comes running.

Chrissy’s tinny voice sounds frantic as she asks, “have you seen Steve?” quickly enough that Robin barely catches it. “He was at Eddie’s yesterday, but his car’s not at his house, and he’s not picking up his phone, and I’m so wor—“

“He left his car at the quarry,” Robin cuts in, relieved when it shuts Chrissy up. A small part of her burns that it took Chrissy so long to call her when she’d asked her to, like without Robin in front of her, she’d fled the other girl’s mind entirely. “He’s with me.”

“Oh, good,” Chrissy sighs, sounding so relieved that Robin has a hard time holding onto her grudge. “Did he…tell you?”

Robin glances at her mom, standing in front of the stove and stirring eggs around in a pan, well within hearing range. So, all she says is, “he told me.”

“Is he okay?”

Robin runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down her bedhead. “Would you be?” Chrissy doesn’t reply—she doesn’t need to, not when they both know there’s only one answer to that question. “Look, I’ve got him, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighs, sounding relieved. Before she can make her excuses to get off the phone, Chrissy asks. “Hey Robin?”

Robin hums in reply, out of words.

“Thank you.”

With that, the girl that Robin likes hangs up on her, probably to call her own boyfriend and update him on the situation. Robin’s gut clenches, but she tries to take her own advice—Chrissy’s just a girl, but Steve? He’s her friend.

“I’m trying not to be nosy,” her mom prompts, and Robin jumps, having entirely forgotten she was there, “but is your friend okay?”

Robin tries to think of a non-outing way to explain the situation before giving it up as a bad job and just saying, “he’s going through a break-up.” Emotion-wise, it feels close enough to the truth anyway.

Her mom spins, spatula in hand as she raises an eyebrow at Robin and asks, “moves on fast, doesn’t he?”

“Ew, Mom!” Robin cries, stalking out of the kitchen to the sound of her mom’s laughter.

Steve’s up when she goes back into her room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he looks around her room like this is the first time he’s seeing it. “You want breakfast?” she asks.

They eat eggs, hash browns and toast, her mom keeping the invasive questions to a minimum, and then they commandeer the TV in the living room to watch shitty romcoms and complain about their disastrous love lives.

It’s fun—Robin can’t remember the last time she’s had a friend over, much less one she can be honest with, so when Steve makes no move to leave as afternoon turns into evening, she doesn’t mention it either, just shoves a baggy clean shirt and a pair of her dad’s sweatpants at him and demands he change.

It’s in the dark of her room that night that Steve asks, “can I sit with you at lunch on Monday?”

Robin smiles, picturing King Steve Harrington strolling up to the band geek’s table like he belongs there. “Course, dingus,” she replies, and is rewarded by Steve reaching up to take her hand.

“Love you, Rob,” he murmurs.

She stares down into the darkness, gobsmacked as his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. Tomorrow morning, her mom will drive Steve to pick up his car, and he’ll go home.

But right now, tonight, Steve Harrington loves her, and he fell asleep holding her hand.

PART 16

[solxamber]

how about Octavinelle students with a half shark!reader headcanons who is just intimidating but nice towards them , looks like they have insane bloodlust but they're really nice , they don't talk to anyone but them cuz they're scared of accidentally hurt them (cuz when they accidentally feel someone else's blood they're mouth breaks into massive fangs)

If thus is too hard , ignore it , goodluck on your studies

Octavinelle with a Shark! Reader (HCs)

hi, i loved the ask its so cute <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul first meets you with his usual shark-like grin—until he sees the sheer predator energy radiating off you. He freezes mid-sentence, giving you the most awkward, watery smile. The only thing running through his mind is "I might have miscalculated."

But then you flash him the smallest, softest smile. The disconnect between your terrifying aura and kindness breaks him completely. He's staring, struggling between his business instincts and his desire not to get eaten.

“You’re quite… unique,” he says, trying not to sound nervous. “Thanks. You, too.” Azul.exe has crashed.

He soon realizes you’re not out to maul him, which makes him infinitely curious. He tries to study you, politely of course—like he’s about to offer a very lucrative loan agreement.

When he notices you only speak to him and the Tweels, he secretly feels way too smug about it. If anyone else tries to talk to you, you just give them this blank, shark-eyed stare until they flee in terror.

Azul loves it. He may be business-minded, but your intimidating presence is great for his stress levels. No more annoyances!

However, the day you accidentally get blood on your hands while eating, you smile—full shark fangs, gleaming and sharp—and he almost faints. He looks at your monstrous grin and says, voice cracking, “I-It’s… uh… a lovely smile, truly...”

You’re so worried about scaring him off, but Azul low-key thinks it’s kind of awesome. You become his VIP intimidation service—though he swears he only uses your friendship “for mutual benefit.” (Sure, Azul.)

Jade Leech

The first time Jade meets you, he knows something is off. Your posture is way too relaxed for someone exuding that much bloodlust. It intrigues him immediately. You smell like danger, but you talk like a librarian.

Jade is completely unbothered by your scary vibes. In fact, he leans in closer whenever you give off that silent, intimidating energy, like he’s trying to encourage it.

“You’re quite the curious one, aren’t you?” he says, tilting his head with a sly smile. You just blink, utterly confused by his calmness.

When he realizes you only talk to him, Floyd, and Azul, his interest skyrockets. It’s not every day someone ignores the rest of NRC while picking him as their favorite conversation partner. He takes it as a compliment, in his strange Jade way.

One day, you accidentally get a whiff of someone’s blood. You’re trying so hard to hold back, but your mouth stretches into a horrifying grin—rows of massive, sharp fangs on full display. Jade just stares in pure, gleeful fascination.

“Incredible,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you were capable of such expressions. Show me again sometime.”

You panic. “Jade, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Hmm. I disagree.”

He is not even remotely afraid of you. In fact, he makes it worse by offering you little challenges—like opening oysters with your teeth or biting things just to see your fangs pop out. He probably offers his hand as a joke to see what you’ll do.

“Would you like to try it?” he says, stretching out a finger. You choke on air. “Jade, I’m not biting you.”

He just smiles, not withdrawing his hand. “How tragic.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd immediately latches onto you the moment you meet.

“Whoa! You’re like a shark! A big scary one!” he says with a grin, not remotely intimidated. In fact, he gets right in your personal space, poking at your cheek like he’s sizing you up for a fight.

When you don’t react aggressively, just awkwardly shuffle back, he finds it hilarious. You’re big, you look like you could eat people whole, but you’re nervous around others? It makes you even more interesting to him.

Floyd becomes obsessed with you. He’s glued to your side, acting like you’re his personal shark pet. He drapes himself all over you, throws an arm around your shoulders, and teases you relentlessly.

“C’mon, show me the teeth! I know you’ve got those big chompers in there.”

One day, you accidentally taste blood after someone near you scrapes their hand. Your fangs break out in full force, and you’re grinning like a nightmare creature. Floyd stares for a beat—and then bursts into laughter.

“There it is! Ahahaha! I knew you had those! Do it again!” he yells

“I-I can’t just do it, Floyd—”

“Why not? C’mon, chomp! Chomp!!”

He’s utterly unhinged about it. Floyd starts trying to coax out your fangs like a maniac, probably waving his hand around, daring you to bite him just to see if he can provoke you.

“Bite me, bite me, bite me!” “Floyd, no!” “Floyd, yes!!”

Despite his chaos, he’s weirdly protective of you. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he switches moods instantly—grinning one second, deathly serious the next.

“Hey. Don’t bother my sharkie, or I’ll bite you.”

In the end, Floyd loves every part of you, terrifying fangs and all. If anything, he thinks you’re the coolest friend ever, and he never misses an opportunity to drag you into trouble—because, hey, what’s better than two scary creatures teaming up to terrorize people?

Masterlist

[etoileee]

please please please tell me what percy is like😛

PERCY JACKSON IN MY DR Ψ

I’m so sorry this took so long! I don’t know why but I genuinely find it so hard to describe literally anything from my dr, like when I’m asked for example what Percy is like, I can’t come up with words that describe him... I just get these abstract thoughts and emotions that I associate with him.

It might be the fact that I'm dyslexic lmao but going on;

I don't consider Percy Jackson intimidating, but he definitely can be 1000%

He isn't shy at all, for example when I first met him we made eye contact, and he DID NOT look away. like I won't lie sometimes when I make eye contact with people I try and see if I can make them look away first just for the fun of it, but no he put my ass in my place that day.

I made a post talking about how people too often forget that he's a New Yorker and borderline juvenile and a lot of you thought it was funny but I am SERIOUS SEND HELP

He's a bit blunt, very honest. if he doesn't like some shit you're doing he'll tell you. I mentioned in my last post that he isn't afraid of confrontation and truly I mean it, I'm the type that tries to avoid it but once the opportunity presents itself he jumps to it, and he WILL fight ur ass, especially if it's someone he cares about that's on the line.

besides that part of him, I also noticed he is very protective. again, especially about people he cares about. he is the type that will defend you if he's with people who are talking badly about you and then tell you what they said about you then never talk to them again.

In my dr him and I just recently met so I haven't really experienced protective Percy, he did end up defending me two times, once during Capture the Flag and once when we were training, and both times I was honestly shocked. like I know his fatal flaw is his loyalty, but I didn't think he would say anything in my defence.

When I told him "You didn't have to do that" he got annoyed. dead ass told me "Why wouldn't I?" alright then... lemme shut up

HE IS SOOO SASSY

He's leading the sassy man apocalypse I've watched him roll his eyes when Dionysus talks or literally when anyone says anything he doesn't like... like okay princess calm down.

It's honestly really funny though I giggle a lil when I notice him getting annoyed.

something else I noticed is that low-key he's good with kids and it's really cute to watch. He's awkward as hell yes but he's good at helping them not doubt themselves.

I watched him help a group of what I think were nine-year-olds with sparring, he was a bit of an awkward teacher yes but after a few encouraging words their little doubtful faces went away, and once they got it right he would be like "See? I told you, you could do it."

Those memes that are like "Percy from his pov" and it's him just thinking he's an average teenage boy and then the "From everyone else's pov" and he's like a god are so accurate he's a little bit mesmerizing ngl.

overall I like Percy, but we're both trying to figure each other out and its so obvious. I wouldn't say we're friends yet, but we might be getting there. slowly but surely 😭

as of right now our relationship is that of two people forced into a group project for school that are slowly getting to know each other

[arcanesea]

confession

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x reader GENRE: idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, angst if you squint WC: 864 WARNING: mentions of alcohol, cursing

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" your roommate peeking from your door, all dressed up and ready for a party. You glance at them before murmuring a low no.

Seungcheol would be there and you're afraid there will be a bloodbath.

You heard them shuffling around the room, ready to leave when they suddenly appeared at your door again.

"Just leave!" you ordered with a laugh. Escorting them to the front door, bidding goodbye. You close the door afterward, sighing. Lately, your relationship with Seungcheol has gone downhill really fast. You're not even dating, not even close. No one even knows both of you used to talk on a daily basis until a week ago.

One thing you know is that he would be there at the party and girls would be dying to talk to him like usual. Except this time he might indulge them. To say that you're jealous would be weird because why would you?

You decided to sleep early, trying to shut the image of Seungcheol and the urge to text him.

It was already past midnight when you were awakened by the sound outside your dorm. You tied your hair, walking towards the front door. Half annoyed, half sleepy.

"Did you forget your key?" you mumble, pulling the door open.

"Thank God!" your roommate shouts. "Cheol said you might already be asleep."

"I was..." you said dryly. Your eyes trained on the guy who held up your half-drunk roommate. No longer sleepy, you're suddenly boiling with rage.

"I'll get going then, I was just escorting them home," Seungcheol said, looking at you. You nod your head, grabbing your roommate by the arm. His hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. It has been weeks since you saw him. Even last week arguments were done through texts with no resolution. You wouldn't care much about who's with him, but it hurts twice more when it's your roommates. Not that you can say anything about that and that's just frustrating.

Your roommate held your arms, tugging on his shirt. You tried to detach them from Seungcheol to no extent because they kept asking him to come in for a moment. You had no choice but to let him in, closing the door behind him afterward. Your roommate, as annoying as they are, immediately walks to the couch and closes their eyes. Mumbling something about a headache.

You curse under your breath before turning to face him.

"I think you can leave now," you told him. "Thank you for driving them back."

"Great, so we're gonna act like nothing happened?" Seungcheol asks.

"Aren't you the one who stopped replying to my text?" you quip back, venom lacing your words. You're watching as his expression changes, jaw clenched.

"I asked you to meet but I guess your reputation matters most to you and you'd rather break this up than be seen going out with me, right?" his words hurt, but you find yourself turning to see your roommate's sleeping state. Wondering if they were listening to a word he said. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"Listen, I don't care if you want to go out with anyone, just not them" you point at your roommate. "You're just going to break their heart."

Like he did yours. But that was mostly your fault for involving even a little bit of feelings in this relationship. You were fine being best friends for the last 5 years. Coming from the same neighborhood, going abroad to the same school. Then acting as if you didn't know each other for the sake of keeping each other as a comfort person.

"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Seungcheol smirks. You really want to smack him at this point, finding it painfully hard not to.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss back. He took one step closer to you, both hands on his back. Your heart leaps, when did he become so mature? Did you really not care if he went out with just anyone?

"I don't want to go out with just anyone. I thought I was making it obvious about what I wanted," he said, chuckling lightly when your eyes widened. "You."

"That's a shit confession," you replied.

"At least I have the courage to do so?!" Seungcheol complained. "Unlike someone I know who just ghosted despite maybe having mutual feelings."

"I did not," you lied.

"What makes you think I'm talking about you?" he goes back to annoy you. "I'll prepare a better confession with long paragraphs if you at least admit it."

"I really hate you, you know that, right?" you replied, trying not to smile. "I stand by my word before, that's a shit confession, but I don't think I can word it better."

"Fucking finally!" You jump at the sudden roar of your roommate. They sat up straight on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seungcheol's ears turned red by the unexpected setup. Both of you become an easy target tonight, blinded by the need to come back to each other to actually notice anything out of the ordinary. "Jeonghan and Joshua owe me 20 bucks each."

a/n. the pride of a leo is unbearable

[bwabys-scenarios]

Imagine being Feitan’s cute chubby!wife. You’re a literal walking ray of sunshine. Foster kittens, volunteer at shelters, wear the cutest bright colored dresses.

The entire troupe is genuinely SHOCKED when he introduces you to them. How can a twisted guy like himself have such a cute wife?? Shalnark is super jealous.

Bros like “hey babygirl he can’t handle all that, but I can 😏”

If looks were enough to kill Shalnark would be six feet under!!!

“Mine.”

Feitan just wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You just giggle and kiss his cheek. They fucking GASP.

“HOLY SHIT it’s not a joke oh my god!!”

Phinks is losing it. Chrollo is just giving his blessing and happy Feitan found someone. Uvogin is also shamelessly flirting with you and chrollo has to break him and feitan up before they kill each other.

You just laugh and cover Feitan’s face in kisses, which he accepts with an embarrassed tut.

“Sorry boys, but Fei is the only one taking me home tonight.”

Feitan is very shameless about his love for you. Grabs your ass in public, whispers dirty things in your ear. Doesn’t usually care who’s around, you are his and he isn’t afraid to show t. The only people that don’t see his PDA are the Phantom Troupe because he doesn’t want them thinking he’s gone soft(he has, you have him WHIPPED).

He’s a bit boney, so really enjoys cuddling up with his chubby wife. Your hands are soft, and his are calloused from a hard life. You kiss every scar he has and tell him how handsome he is every chance you get. He wonders what he did to deserve this love you give him.

Phinks is the only one he trusts enough to watch over you when he has a solo mission. You fix up all his injuries when he gets home with the sweetest of smiles.

You aren’t officially married, but it’s official in your minds. He doesn’t want to spend his life with anyone else.

Loves to just lay face first in your boobs while you hum to him, stroking his head. Though be careful he is mischievous and might bite your tiddy… you have been warned.

So gentle with his fragile wife, carries you like you’re made of glass. First time he tried to pick you up, you squeak out in protest. He easily picks you up, scoffing.

“Easy. Think I’m weak?”

“N-no, just thought I was too heavy!”

He lifts an eyebrow and holds you with one arm, his hand low key fondling your butt.

“Not heavy. Little wife.”

He’s so in love with you he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Would do anything for you.

A/N: send feitan requests PLS

[beybaldes]

*･゜ﾟ･* high key just procrastinating my essay but…*･゜ﾟ･*

sejanus plinth as your oblivious bestfriend

- this man is minding his own business too hard, like, doesn’t even take the fact you might like him as more then a friend as an option because he figured if it was, something would’ve happened by now (he’s deathly afraid of rejection)

- literally so happy to spend his entire life doting on you even if it’s just as your best friend

- you will literally walk around the academy holding his hand and press kisses to his cheek or forehead everytime you have to part ways and this man still thinks you’re ‘just friends’

- literally so beyond shocked when Coryo asks if the two of you are together and hits him with ten thousand questions about why he thought that

‘what do you mean, Coryo? Why would you think we’re together?’ Sejanus’s whole face had paled and his sandwich was getting crushed in his hand. What had Coryo seen that he hadn’t? Surely if anyone was going to notice something about you, it would be him, not Coriolanus.

‘they kissed you goodbye, Sejanus.’ Coryo scoffed, eyes rolling at his friends frantic behaviour. ‘And they definitely don’t do that for anyone else.’ Sejanus wanted to ask if Coryo was sure, but he couldn’t get the words out without becoming a stuttering mess. He’d never thought about it that way befriend.

- spends months waiting for you to reach for his hand before he takes initiative and does it for himself the first time, and you totally freak but are super good at hiding it. Sejanus just takes this as he was right you were only being friendly.

- Coryo starts getting more and more sick of it, and finally decided to intervene by concocting a plan that would make even the shyest and sweetest of people (Sejanus) confess

“but I don’t get why.” you stressed, not really understanding coryo’s ‘plan’ that was supposedly going to push you and Sejanus together. it made enough sense but you weren’t sure it would actually help anything, not when you weren’t going to get anywhere when Sejanus only liked you as a friend. “if you want me to kiss you goodbye as well Coryo, you could’ve just asked.”

“it’s not about that, what I’m trying to say-“ Coriolanus didn’t have time to finish his works as he noticed Sejanus coming around the corner and into the corridor the two of you were stood in. “Kiss me, kiss me now, quick.”

more then anything, you wanted to be with Sejanus, and if Coriolanus truly thought this would make that happen, then you were willing to give it a try. Leaning up onto the tips of your toes, you pressed a long kiss to his cheek, making sure Sejanus had seen it before you pulled away. The second your lips left his cheek, he ducked his head and forced a blush to his face, hoping it would make Sejanus jealous enough that he would act on his feelings. However, Sejanus never said a thing, instead giving a pointed glare to Coriolanus and grabbing your hand tightly, pulling you away from the scene of the crime. As you turned to look back at Coryo in confusion, he simply gave you two thumbs up and a wicked grin.

- after Sejanus sees you press a kiss to Coriolanus’s cheek when you’d never done that for anyone else but him, some kind of switch inside of him had flipped

- low-key made him realise he’d never felt like this before and that he definitely saw you as more then just his friend (but had no clue how to go about telling you that)

- so he continued holding your hands and accepting your cheek kisses but now he felt more confident returning them.

“okay, I’ll see you later.” Sejanus had pressed a fleeting kiss to your cheek then turned and left the lunch table without another word, mainly in an effort to hide his flushed face but also incase your reaction was not what he’d predicted.

Coriolanus let out a loud laugh as he looked at the scene before him, your hand ghosting over where he’d just planted a kiss on you and a star struck look in your eyes. “Sejanus just kissed you.”

“Sejanus just kissed me.” You repeated in a far off, airy voice, a bright smile curling on your lips. “Sejanus just kissed me!”

- things only continued to escalate from there

- and since you were now certain he returned your feelings, you knew the only way you’d be able to make him understand was to be completely straight forward with it (because anything otherwise would just go over his head)

- it’s a gloomy, winter, Monday morning when it happens

you march through the doors of the academy, standing tall and proud with the confidence that what you’re about to do is going to give you the one thing you’d only ever dreamed about. it helps that your pretty sure things are going to work out in your favour too.

you walk straight past everyone from you classes, ignoring calls of you name from classmates in search of homework answers and a particularly belligerent Felix Ravenstill, who you’re pretty sure is trying to ask you to be his date for the winter formal. no one mattered right now except Sejanus. But then again, when had they ever? So, you aimed straight for him, not noticing the way Coriolanus seemed to try and ask you something as you approached the two, only taking in Sejanus who turned around to face you with a bright smile and a loving, “Good morning!”

“Good morning.” You replied closing all distance between you as you cradled his face between your hands and brought his lips to yours in a kiss. Sejanus takes a long moment before he begins to reciprocate the kiss, but when he does he drops his note books to the floor in favour of gripping onto your waist and kissing you back harder.

When you finally pull away from him, Sejanus looks totally frazzled - hair mused and lips red, face flushed and a smile so wide that his cheeks hold deeper dimples than usual. “What was that for?” Half the academy is currently staring at the two of you but this time Sejanus doesn’t have the mind to care. “I don’t get-“

“I like you, so, so much.” You tongue darted out across your lips for a fraction of a second but it was enough for Sejanus to find his gaze upon your lips once more. He could lean forward and kiss you once again but he wanted to listen to what you had to say - he figured he’d quite like it. “I want to be yours, if you’ll have me.”

Sejanus doesn’t know the word for it right then and there but it’s love that he feels for you, and that he will feel for you until his very dying breath. “Without a single doubt I am yours.” He answers, leaning in to try and kiss you again, though you pulled away as he moved in trying to meet his eyes. “I already have been for a long time.”

you let him kiss you when he leans in again.

- if Coriolanus had been annoyed by you and Sejanus dancing around eachother, he found himself even more annoyed now that you two were actually together

- somehow more handholding and kisses then before??? and you won’t leave each other alone???

- previously, if you had a class Sejanus didn’t, you’d leave him with a kiss goodbye in the canteen, but now that you were together, Sejanus would spring out of his seat the second he noticed you were grabbing your things, barely saying goodbye to Coryo as he took your hand and offered to walk you to your class

- Coryo was definitely jealous he was third wheeling so much harder then before (though jealous of who, he couldn’t decide) but was glad he didn’t have to deal with the two of you being in denial at least

An: hope you enjoyed!! If even a single person wants me to write Sejanus as your oblivious boyfriend I will <33

[oneforthemunny]

blood soaked tears |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie gets hurt, and continues to hurt himself. you're not staying around to watch.

bad description holy shit, but if you remember from the old blog (rip) this is the angst you wanted lol. also my first fic (not repost) since starting this blog!!! a long angsty one so buckle up!!!

contains: 18+ minors dni, mafia!eddie au, blood, guns, eddie is shot and hospitalized, language, fighting, mentions of eddie's dad (derogatory), angst, angst, ANGST

You knew.

You knew from the first shrill of the black landline on your desk. You knew from the quivering sigh on the other line. You knew from the rasp in Hopper's voice, the urgent tone that he desperately tried to mask as calm when he told you, "It's Eddie. He-He's... You need to get down here. He's in the hospital."

The twisting gut punched sensation that sent a shock through your nervous systems, senses tightened with fear and shaking with every fear-filled step of your strappy heels clacking fiercely against the pavement. You could barely grasp your key to turn the ignition, all quivering hands that fumbled, a white knuckled grip on the wheel of the Porsche, the car zipping and gliding through the streets of Hawkins with ease.

Eddie had bought it for you for the speed. Told you how pretty you looked in your little sports car, how much he loved watching you drive and go fast. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, bile rising thick in your throat at the thought. You didn't want to see the state Eddie was in. You weren't sure you could bear it.

The drive to the hospital was filled with racing thoughts, consuming anxieties that whirred and raced through your mind. What happened? Are the other boys ok? Oh God, who's going to take care of the dogs? They're still at the house and need to be let out. Did anyone tell Wayne? Should I tell Wayne? I need to call him, maybe the hospital will let me use their phone.

What if he's dead?

That sickening, ringing question that only got louder and louder, deafening you with the cruelty of the words. The harsh reality that you very well could be facing your worst fears. You didn't want to think about life without Eddie. You couldn't.

You couldn't imagine not waking up next to him every day. Not feeling his sweet kisses in the morning. Never hearing him hum lowly in his chest, swaying with you in the kitchen. Being without that beautiful laugh that bubbled out of his chest, shook through his body and always left him with a dimpled smile that radiated over to you filling you with warmth. Never hearing him tell you he loved you, or holding him, or watching him throw toys in the backyard with the dogs.

You couldn't do it. You wouldn't.

The fluorescent lighting of the hospital did nothing to help the eery feeling that settled deep in the pit of your tummy.

Hopper's gruff voice stopped you, calling your name before you could get on the elevator, tunnel visioned and determined though you didn't know where you were going.

"Hop," You hated the way your voice shook, frail and wobbly; afraid. "What's going on? Where is he? I-Is he ok?"

Hopper sighed slow, heavy, a horrifying sign to you. "They've got the west wing on the second floor cleared for him." He said lowly, eyes scanning around. "We can talk up there."

"W-What happened?" You asked. The lights were getting brighter by the second, you were sure of it.

"He got hurt." Hopper said slowly, vaguely, nodding towards another officer while his eyes still scanned around. He was looking for a threat.

You passed two other men in the waiting room, inconspicuous waiting patients- but you'd seen them before. They worked for Eddie. They were here for backup, you knew enough to know that. The realization made you sick.

Hopper pushed back the restricted area, past the bustling nurses and doctors all scurrying with medical equipment, to the back elevator. The emergency elevator for staff only.

The elevator creaked, stopping with a low thud in front of you, craning open with an ominous groan. You could barely move, barely will your brain to tell your legs to get on, much too consumed with the terrorizing what-ifs.

Hopper looked ahead, spine straightening as the numbers climbed. The other officer moved his hand to his holster, gripping his gun as nonchalantly as he could, but you didn't miss it.

"Is he dead?" You asked, your own voice surprising yourself.

The other officer turned to Hopper, eyes cutting carefully to monitor his reaction. Hopper didn't turn, kept his head pointed forward, eyes trained on the doors. "No."

You could feel your shoulders fall in some sort of relief, muscles quaking at the release in pressure. The chime of the elevator accompanied the low groan of the doors parting for the three of you to step off.

The hallway ahead looked like something out of your worst nightmares. Dim and dark, flickering with lights and all together abandoned. There were men by the elevator, men by the doors, posted down the secluded halls. They all looked at you solemnly when you passed, eyes falling down in sorrow.

Gareth's mess of curls passed by the small, narrowed window of the closed door, once then twice, pacing furiously.

"Gareth?" His eyes flickered towards yours when you entered, wide and red-rimmed.

Jeff lifted his head, hands folded and placed between spread legs, head hung low with defeat. Max looked angry, furious, those steel eyes cutting and calculated; she was planning her revenge already. She was always so good at considering every step, carefully considering the best outcomes with optimal damages. It's why she was one of Eddie's closest 'goons'. He always laughed when he called her that.

Your chest ached at the thought, knowing you wouldn't hear his laugh today.

"What happened?" You asked, eyes darting from him to Jeff to Max. "I-Is he alright?"

"He got shot." Max snapped bitterly. You knew she didn't mean to be so biting, that she was angry and hurt; maybe even scared. "They got him in surgery right now."

You paled at the thought, lifeless and hopeless feeling leaving your frame and slithering down your body chillingly. The ringing in your ears returned, a dull screech that made your head spin.

Jeff called your name lightly, brown eyes drooped with pain. These were Eddie's closest friends. His most trusted friends that watched their friend get shot. He wasn't a boss to them, wasn't the mean scary mafia man who put a chilling fear into anyone with a look. To them, that was their friend; and they watched him get shot.

"He got shot in the chest." Jeff said slowly, a shaky exhale that he tried to hide, ducking his head back down.

You swallowed thickly, looking from Hopper back to Gareth, eyes begging for someone to say it wasn't true. To tell you he'd be ok. For Gareth to cackle and tell you, "Munson's had way worse, don't even sweat it," like he did when Eddie had to have stitches from a stabbing.

They didn't this time.

Instead, they all held the same solemn look in their eyes, scared and unknowing.

"They said they won't know if it hit his heart or-or a spinal chord until they open him up." Gareth swallowed, hands clenching to hide the shake in them. "He, uh, he lost a lot of blood."

You exhaled slowly, a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, ribs feeling like they might cave in entirely, crushing your lungs- your heart.

"D-Do you think he'll be," You willed your voice out of your throat, shuddering breaths that threatened to escape with the tears you held back. "Is he going to be ok?"

No one answered you.

Downcast eyes that refused to meet yours, a thick, uncomfortable tension that lingered in the air, deafeningly loud over the buzz of the air conditioning in the small area.

***

The doctor came shortly after Wayne had arrived. Eddie's uncle sunk into the waiting room chair, knee bouncing furiously, those familiar brown eyes hard and trained on the wall.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say, what to do. That was the worst part, the waiting. Gareth paced, Jeff barely looked up, Max plotted, and Hopper tried to multitask- calling Rick and checking reports, huddled by the phone.

The anxious man still in powder blue scrubs stood before you, voice wavering while he told you Eddie's condition, throwing around the word critical and coma, two phrases that rung in your ears, piercing and loud.

Eddie laid lifelessly before you, a million beeping machines monitoring his condition, a wide tube shoved down his throat, ribcage expanding and falling sharply. Thick lashes that rested neatly on his cheeks. You were always so jealous of how long his lashes were, so beautiful framing those puddle eyes you adored. The dried blood around his mouth and nose, caked on crimson that made your stomach twist.

You'd never seen him so still. So flaccid and rigid, covered in a hospital gown, too colorful for anything Eddie would normally wear. He was never this idle, not even in his deepest sleep. His body twitched, lugged arms that weighed heavy on your body. He'd snore, drool, settle in his sleep; show some signs of life and movement. You used to whine and shove him off you, snap at him the next morning for hogging the blankets.

You wish you could take that back now. You'd let him have all the blankets, you'd let him drool in your hair, drop a heavy arm on you, snore in your ear all night; you'd do anything to have him be ok. Anything to be home in bed with him.

Wayne's shuddering breath startled you lightly, pulling you out of your fixated trance. "Boy," He grumbled, jaw clenched tightly. "What have you gone and done now?"

The doctor told you to be patient, that it would take time. It would be a slow recovery.

The silence crept back into the room, now filled with a background symphony of beeps and crinkling machines to lull out the sound of your dread and pain.

You and Wayne sat side by side, chairs huddled up by Eddie's bed watching him, the rise and fall of his chest, slow and calculated. Both of you scared to look away. Afraid if you did, it might stop.

***

"Missy, didn't I tell you to go home and get some sleep?" Wayne's gruff voice poured through the room, warm and grizzly, a nice contrast to the sharpness of the machines you'd grown used to.

You huffed playfully, folding up the blanket and tucking it in the chair next to your makeshift cot. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at home anyways." You muttered, rubbing at your eyes.

It had been a little over a week since you'd arrived, scared and skittish with that sinking feeling of impending doom. It still hadn't left, consumed your insides and left you queazy, but Eddie had started to improve. The doctors came in with positive reports daily, praises of his condition on the incline. The day before, you and Wayne watched Eddie start to twitch, eyelashes fluttering and moving a tiny bit in his induced sleep.

It made you grin. A little sliver of hope that was returning back to you. Wayne had laughed with you, pulling you close into his side in a comforting hug. "Y'know I always worry 'bout that boy not gettin' enough sleep. Guess on the bright side he'll be pretty well rested now."

You could make jokes now.

Now that Eddie was getting better. Now that they were taking the tube out and pulling him off the heavy sedatives. Now that his beautiful brown eyes were groggily staring into yours, letting you give him water on a sponge to wet his tongue.

"Hi, sweetheart," Eddie's slurred finally, voice cracking and rasping from the tube. The doctor told you he'd be sore from it for a while, a little foggy while the drugs wore off too, but even in his haze his eyes held that same warming light of adoration when they looked at you.

Lips trembling and chest tightening, you flung yourself carefully into his shoulder, heaving sobs that wracked through your whole body, muffled into the scratchy material of the gown. Eddie held you still, even in his loopy state, he comforted you lightly, calloused hands rubbing up and down your spine slowly.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, Eddie," You sniffled, watery and choking on your own sobs. "Thought I lost you forever."

"Can't get rid of me that easily, baby." Eddie droned, a lopsided dimpled grin and heavy lidded eyes that made you swoon. "I'm tougher than that."

And he was. He really was. You knew that he was, his friends did, Wayne did, Hopper did, the guys who did this to him certainly did; but you also knew the doctor's orders.

Dr. Montgomery had let Eddie go under one condition: rest.

Bed rest, sleep, antibiotics, and nothing extreme at least until the stitches healed.

You'd been absolutely buzzing with excitement when you brought him home, carefully commanding the dogs when you walked in, willing them down but letting them greet Eddie with excited wags. You'd set him up in the guest bedroom on the first floor, the stairs too strenuous for him now.

"Baby, I'm fine." Eddie moaned lightly, arm wrapped around you for support. "I wanna sleep in my own bed, please."

"The doctor said-"

"I'll be fine." Eddie sighed lightly. "Please? Just help me up the stairs. I'll go really slow and careful, ok? Just please, sweetheart, I wanna sleep in my own bed with you." Those brown eyes rounded, melting into you so sweetly, you couldn't possibly say no.

So you helped him up the stairs, Gareth and Jeff aiding you to make it as painless as possible. Eddie sunk into the silk sheets, freshly washed and scented with that detergent you loved so much. You hadn't let the housemaid clean the sheets until he was better, too scared to lose the scent of him that lingered on his pillows.

You slept better than you had in days, Eddie's hand grazing your hip, your waist, your cheek. Tearful whispers and shushed kisses shared under red bedsheets, promises of better days ahead, and you believed there would be.

Until the next day.

Heavy lids, still bleary with sleep, watched Eddie through blurry vision as he grunted softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "W-What are you doing, honey?" You muttered, rubbing the palm of your hand over your eyes. "Tell me what you need. I'll get it. Y'don't need to be moving a lot. You'll tear your stitches."

Eddie smiled softly back at you, dressed in his black button down, black tailored Armani slacks, chains and rings; his work attire.

"Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'll be back in a little bit." Eddie whispered, a normally soothing tone that left you rigid instead.

Spine straightening, eyes blinking you looked at him carefully. "Eddie," Your eyes scanned over his frame. "You-What do you think you're doing?"

Eddie paused, slowly looking over his shoulder at you. "Baby," He started, that same tone he used when he was trying to soothe you; when he was about to tell you something you wouldn't like. "I gotta go to work."

Your heart stilled in your chest, a fluttering stop that left you breathless. "Are you-Are you being serious?" You blinked. "Eddie, you just got fucking shot-"

"It's nothing strenuous, baby, I promise." Eddie's quick reply came with a heavy sigh. "Jeff and Gare will be with me, and Rick made sure I was doubled up with his guys-"

"-You just got out of a coma!" You screeched, sitting on your knees, fully awake and furious. "A coma! You're supposed to be resting!"

"I will be." Eddie replied, calm and smooth, like you were arguing about something minuscule. "It's just meetings. Just planning-"

"-Eddie, you almost died." You choked on the word, that constricting around tears and fury.

There was a chilling silence, thick and ominous that settled between the two of you. Eddie's jaw flexed, eyes piercing into yours with a familiar look of fear. It always came across like a challenge, but you knew better; knew him better.

"I'll take it easy, I promise." Eddie's response was nonchalant, brushing off any of your fear and discarding it meanly away. "I'll be back soon."

Your heart raced uncomfortably, that familiar rising panic that you felt days before running through the hospital. "If you leave, I won't be here when you get back." Your heart thumped in your ears, chills shaking down your body. Eddie's hand lingered on the knob, stilling but not turning towards you.

"I swear to God, Eddie, if you walk out that door, I won't be here anymore. I'm not letting you kill yourself. You can't go back now, it's too soon. You-You'll get hurt." Your voice cracked, lip wobbling. "You're hurting me."

Eddie whispered your name, defeated and tired, eyes pleading with you like you were in the wrong. "I'll be back soon." He whispered, those thick lashed framing his eyes.

You swallowed back a sob when he shut the door, the click of the lock far too loud and heavy in the silent room. Tears rimmed your eyes, blinding your vision and spilling down your cheeks. Your heart ached, even as you waited, determined he'd come back. Sure he'd come through the door and apologize, smother you in kisses and apologies, rest like you'd begged him to do- like he'd promised he would do.

But he didn't.

The room stayed silent and still, the dogs watching you carefully from their beds, your eyes unmoving from the frozen doorway.

Unlike Eddie, you were true on your word.

He'd only been gone an hour and a half, rushing through the meetings at the warehouse, securing plans and leads before barking orders and coming back home. His chest ached, stitches healing and stretching uncomfortably, and he was tired, head still foggy from the medication.

All Eddie wanted was to go back home, pop a pain pill, and curl back into bed with you. The guilt of leaving you was eating him alive, but he had to go. Sure, Jeff or Gareth or Max could have covered the plans, he knew they were more than capable, but Eddie needed to do it; had to, for himself. The fear of getting swapped out and replaced for another was festering and stirring in the pit of his stomach.

Eddie called your name, a little surprised that the dogs didn't greet him. Instead, they were seated outside the bedroom door, whinging and whimpering pathetically to get in.

"Baby?" Eddie's brow furrowed, lips pressing together. "Don't tell me you're still mad at me, kitten. I told you I'd be back soon, I just had to finish a few-"

He didn't find you in the sea of red sheets like he imagined. He didn't find you in the bathroom, or the closet, or the living room, or anywhere. He didn't find your car gone, clothes missing, nothing out of the ordinary, but yet, he didn't find you.

Instead, he found a letter, neatly tucked in an envelope by your bedside table, scribbled words in your handwriting on a tear soaked card that tore his heart out, filled him with dread and fear and anger- not at you, at himself.

"Gareth!" Eddie thundered, sending the dogs into a frantic frenzy, barking and growling viciously.

Gareth pounded up the stairs, eyes wide in fear and alert. Eddie's tear-filled eyes met his, jaw clenched in anger. "Find her." He muttered. "Find her right fucking now. That's everyone's top priority."

"Ed, what-what hap-"

"-I told you to find her!" Eddie roared, the vein in his neck thrumming and protruding out fiercely. "Right now! Fuck!" He hobbled towards the stairs, gripping the steel banister for support.

"Ed, wait, seriously, you can't be acting like this, alright? I'll find her, but if you tear your stitches she's gonna be so mad." Gareth said calmly. He was used to this kind of attitude, exploding and chaotic, but he hadn't seen this side of Eddie in years. Hadn't seen him this scared in years, not even days ago when he was bleeding out in his arms.

"You better fuckin' find her, Emerson, you fuckin' hear me?" Eddie growled, chest heaving and ringed finger jabbing towards Gareth.

"I will, Ed, I will." Gareth held his hands up, backing away from Eddie carefully. "I'll find her just-just relax, ok? I'll find her."

***

Two days.

It had been two days of Gareth, Jeff, Max, and everyone else on Eddie's payroll searching tirelessly to find you. It wasn't until a traced call by Hopper that Eddie had his answer.

The gravel of the Forest Hills Trailer Park flew out under the tires of the Bugatti, speeding towards the familiar back lot. Eddie gripped the wheel tight, barely throwing the gear into park before he was stepping out, bounding towards the steps.

Wayne was already at the doorway, holding the screen door open with a hard glare. "Thought that doctor told you to rest?"

"Where is she?" Eddie ignored him, eyes mirroring his uncle's in a rivaling gaze. "Huh? Where's she at, Wayne?"

You stood, hidden from your place in the kitchen, peeking around the corner carefully. You could barely see Eddie's curls, wild and frizzy, clearly mussed from his hands tugging and pulling at the locks- something he always did when he was stressed.

"Thought that doctor told you to rest." Wayne repeated, stepping out on the front step. "Thought your girl told you that too."

Eddie swallowed hard, desperate to keep his emotions contained. He'd worked so hard for so many years to train himself to maintain his composure, keep his cool. "Wayne, please, ok? Please let me see her-"

"-Ya know, I hoped she was lyin' to me, boy." Wayne continues, heavy work boots clacking against the creaking step, shifting his weight with a low groan. "Thought for sure you'd be followin' your doctor's orders. Thought you'd actually want to be gettin' better after all that, might be different from your Daddy."

Eddie stilled at the mention of his father, a cold chill running down his spine at the comparison. Wayne never spoke of his brother, especially never to relate his son to him.

"You know, that girl in there called me in hysterics twice." Wayne held up two fingers, eyes slotting towards his nephew. "Once to tell me I needed to come see you, that you'd been hurt. No one else thought to do that, only her." Eddie swallowed, guilt bubbling higher and higher into his chest.

"Then she calls me to tell me you're already back out. Won't listen to the doctor, won't listen to her, too stubborn to let yourself heal after you promised her you would." Wayne could see Eddie's eyes blinking, watery and red-rimmed yet wide and watching his every move.

"I can put up with you doin' a lot of shit. Pretend not to know what them skulls on your arm mean, not talk about the obvious; fine. But I didn't raise you to be a liar." Wayne bit, jaw grinding in fury. "'Specially not to the ones you love. The ones who dropped everything to be with you. That girl in there loves you. Didn't leave your side once in that damn hospital." His finger pointed back towards the trailer where you stood, gripping the counter, hidden from their view.

"I-I know." Eddie stuttered out, a deep breath releasing from his nostrils slowly. "I love her too-"

"-Do you?" Wayne snapped.

There was a chilling silence that hung between the two men, thick and heavy, you could feel it all the way inside the trailer. Your heart twisted at the question, squeezing even harder at the potential answer.

"Don't you dare," Eddie's voice was low and gravely in his chest, catching in his throat. "You know I love her, don't you dare-"

"Don't you." Wayne sneered. "I ain't the one who's hurt her, that's you, Ed." You could see Eddie flinch through your tear soaked vision, recoiling at the harshness of his uncle's words.

"I-I didn't mean to-" Eddie stuttered, labored breathing and trembling words falling from his lips. You'd never seen him so frazzled, so emotional this way. So scared.

"Don't give me that shit." Wayne snapped, shaking his head. "You walked out that day, and you knew she didn't want you to go. You know who that sounds a lot like?"

Eddie didn't answer, neither did Wayne, the answer clear on both their faces. Eddie's father was reckless, too, so careless it ended up with his mother dead. Eddie swore he'd never be that stupid, the selfish, yet here he was. Acting exactly like Clint.

Eddie could feel his chest constrict, heaving heavily at the thought. The familiar aching burn of tears squeezing his airway, filling his lungs and throat and nose in the most uncomfortable way. Tears filling his eyes that he tried to will back, knowing once they started they wouldn't stop.

"Please," Eddie rasped, voice too unsteady for his own liking. "Please let me see her."

You could feel your own breath hitched, catching in your throat with a strangled gasp. You moved closer, trying to see Eddie through your own watery vision.

Eddie's eyes caught onto the figure moving slowly towards the doorway, lips pressing together at the sight of you; red rimmed eyes and cheeks that shined wetly even in the cloudy, sunless skies. He did this to you, fuck, he was just like his dad.

"Fuck, 'm so sorry, baby, 'm sorry." Eddie's voice wavered, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes, desperate to keep his leaking tears hidden.

Wayne turned back to look at you, lips pressed together lightly. You wiped your own eyes with the back of your hand, looking at him gently. "Can you... just give us a moment?" You asked softly. Eddie had turned, shoulder stuttering, hands running down his face.

Wayne nodded, eyes cutting back towards his nephew. "I'll be inside if ya need me." He patted your shoulder lightly, comforting, the same squeal of the hinges on the tracks before the door fell with a heavy latch.

You padded carefully towards Eddie, watching him intently with his back still turned. "Ed," You cooed lightly, stopping behind him. "Eddie?"

"I'm so fucking sorry." Eddie breathed, still not turning towards you. "I-I was scared that Rick would have me replaced or-or that the guys might see me as weak, and I-I shouldn't have..." A strangled cry tore through the air, his shoulders dropping low and shaking, chocolate curls cascading to block his covered face.

"Eddie, calm down, honey." You said softly, hands running over the silk material of his shirt. He was still dressed from before when he left for work, a little crumpled.

"I-I'm sorry." His eyes flashed to yours, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, streaming down to his chin. "I'm so sorry."

You reached for him instinctively, holding him close to you, mindful of his stitches though he didn't seem to care. Eddie clung to you, head dropping into your neck, shuddering breaths and shaky sobs mixing with soft apologies and watery promises.

You found yourself huddled in Eddie's old bedroom, pressed into the poster covered wall so the two of you could fit comfortably on the twin bed. His mess of curls, wild and tickling your cheek and chin, his cheek rested on your chest while you ran your nails soothingly through his hair, scratching at his scalp. The two of you stayed there for the week, Wayne and you swapping off on cooking, cleaning Eddie's wounds, making sure he could heal properly.

Eddie promised you, tucked under the quilt in his old bedroom, that he'd do better, he'd take care of himself for you; he wouldn't be like his dad. You whispered back your own vows to not leave him again, silent apologies passed to each other in between loving kisses and longing stares.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus is a warning in and of itself. Smut, p in v, tittie sucking, small tittie worship, cum play, groping, cussing, first time, Obsessed!Coryo, Small Breasted!Reader, Pervy!Coryo, Virgin!Coriolanus, Virgin!Reader

When you hit puberty and started wearing a training bra like your peers, you quickly realized that you weren't going to be blessed with big boobs. That you, in fact, were going to be a card carrying member of the itty-bitty tittie committee. But that didn't bother you. In fact, you were kinda expecting it.

Your mother’s small chested, so you always figured that you'd take after her in that area. Having a small chest is something that you and your mother bonded over. She took you shopping for bras at the store she went to; gave you advice about the most flattering bras for small cup sizes, etc.

It was nice to have a mom for once. To bond over shopping. It makes you feel like a normal teenage girl, especially since your mother usually ignores you in favor of trying to gold dig rich men to get out of having to live paycheck to paycheck.

Your older brother, Rein, was relieved that you're small chested. It meant that you wouldn't have creeps ogling you. That boys would have to like you for you.

And he was right about that, a boy did like you for you.

Coriolanus Snow.

He's always had a raging obsessive crush on you. Coriolanus thinks that you're absolutely beautiful. He also thinks that you're the brightest girl he's ever met. A mind equal to his.

And, ever since the two of you hit puberty, he's found himself staring at your small chest and imagining how his large hands will look covering your small breasts as he fondles them. He thinks that his hands can completely cup and cover them, like a bra of sorts.

But, Coriolanus Snow is afraid of rejection. Although he's been obsessed with you for years, he's afraid that you won't like him in the same way. He's used to being the best, to being on top, and being rejected by you would be the biggest and worst failure in and of his entire life.

So, he just settles for being your friend and for being your class partner for Academy projects.

You and Coryo, Coriolanus has been letting you call him that for a little while now, are sitting together at lunch just eating your Academy provided sandwiches while waiting for Sejanus to grab his food from the long lunch line in the mess hall. The chatter all throughout the room was focused on the upcoming prom.

It's early May and prom's at the end of the month, so of course all the girls are dress shopping and gossiping about their gowns. Oh, and the boys are asking girls to the dance and finding out the color dress they're wearing so they can match with coordinating suits.

And Coryo's no different. He decided to take that leap of faith when it came to you and ask you to prom before anyone else could snatch you up.

“Y/N, would you go to prom with me?” Your friend with the halo of light golden curls asked you with a nervous smile plastered on his chiseled face.

Setting down your sandwich you ask, “Like as a friend or as your girlfriend?”

Your heart's racing as you wait for his answer. You think that Coryo's very handsome and you've been low key flirting with him for a few weeks. Or at least you think you've been flirting with him, you're not really sure since you've never actually flirted with anyone before.

“I'd like you to go as my girlfriend, but-” Coryo began to answer, only for you to cut him off by happily blurting out, “I'd love to go with you as your girlfriend!”

“Good.” He smiled. Between eating his sandwich, he admitted, “Honestly, I was afraid you'd say no or even worse, want to stay just friends.”

“You're the hottest boy in the Academy and you're easy to get along with, so why wouldn't I want to be your girl?” You ask him while grabbing your water glass off your tray.

“I dunno.” Coryo shrugs. Setting his sandwich on his plate and reaching for his own water glass, he explains, “Most people think that I'm a pompous know it all with a permanent stick stuck up my ass, but I'm glad that you think In hot.”

“What did I miss, lovebirds?” Sejanus teasingly asked you and Coriolanus as he finally appeared at your lunch table with his tray. The broas boy with dark hair, who's like a big teddy bear, knew that his best friends have crushes on each other. And by the way you and Coryo are smiling like loons at each other he figures that you two finally figured shit out.

Sipping on his water, your new boyfriend said, “Y/N’s my girl now and we're going to prom.”

“That's good. I was wondering when you two would get together.” Sejanus smiled in response to Coriolanus’ answer.

“Sej…” You gasp, playfully smacking him on the arm.

If only your mutual friend and told the to of you earlier about your mutual crushes.

Coriolanus, unknown to everyone in the Academy, was struggling financially. The Snows were barely scraping by. They didn't have a pot to piss in, but Coryo knew how to fake it. He knew how to put on the airs.

And when you started dating a few weeks before prom, well, he discovered that your lifestyle was as shitty as is. That you didn't have that much money either. And since neither one of you had that much money, Tigress made your prom outfits.

The blonde seamstress made Coryo a nice dress shirt with red stripes on it to match the red dress she made you. Your boyfriend paired his shirt with a pair of black slacks and a black waist coast that he already owned. He even shined his too small shoes for the formal event.

Coriolanus Snow had to look his absolute best for you. Snow lands on top and as cliche as it is, he plans on landing on top of you tonight. He might've stolen some money from his cousin to rent a room in the hotel that's grand ballroom's holding the prom in.

Anyways…

Your dress was absolutely gorgeous. So much so that it rivaled anything out of any of the boutiques and fashion houses. It was a strappy scarlet floor length dress that had a low cut v neck that showed off your lack of cleavage.

Grandma'am Snow gave you her long string pearls and some black opera gloves to pair with the dress. The Snow matriarch claimed the you looked so beautiful. As if you walked right out of a film from the old days, the golden days before the war; before the Dark Days had hit your families hard and tragically.

But the only thing about your dress having such a deep and low v neckline was that you couldn't wear a bra. But since you're small chested it's not like it matters. But, you not wearing a bra has Coryo's mouth watering and his pants tightening at the thought just being able to just slide the bodice over and play with your tits. Yea…he's a pervy, over horny, 18 year old virgin with one too many fantasies. But it is what it is.

But anyways…

You and Coryo were the best dressed at the prom. You got so many compliments on your coordinating outfits. And everyone was pea green with envy over your matching rose corsage and boutonniere. Of course, they were handmade by Coriolanus using the roses from his Grandma'am’s rooftop garden. But that was a secret between the two of you.

A romantic secret, or at least you think so.

And because Coriolanus is such a charming snake with a silver tongue, he somehow got the Senior class to vote the two of you Prom King and Queen. And after being called up on stage and crowned by a very high and disgruntled Dean Casca Highbottom your boyfriend told you that prom king and queen was just the beginning of your lives as a power couple. That one day you'd be President and First Lady Snow.

And after prom you find yourself in a lavish hotel room (guess the Snows are missing the mortgage payment this month; electric bill too…hopefully the water doesn't get turned off…) with Coryo, naked and in bed.

To say he's transfixed on your small titties is an understatement. For an unmeasured amount of time, that feels like an eternity, Coryo's littering your small chest in sloppy, needy, open mouth kisses. He's been alternating between sucking your nipples and pinching them. But since both his mouth and his hands are huge, he's more or less sucking your entire tit in his mouth and pinching it between his fingers since your tits are so small.

Coryo absolutely loves your small boobs. He loves how they fit in his large hands. How he can squeeze and massage them easily. He also loves how his tongue looks sweeping up and down then, licking every inch of your tiny titties.

You don't know when, but while Coriolanus has been worshiping your small chest with his mouth, he snaked his hand between your bodies, down between your legs only to explore your wet folds with his long fingers.

“Coryo…” You half tremble half sigh as you feel him tease your wet hole by barely sliding his fingertip in and out of it.

“Hmmm?” Coryo hummed against your chest. You could feel the vibration of his low timbre against your heart, causing you to just let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you gonna finger me or tease me?” You ask, trying not to whine out in frustration, as you feel his fingertip lightly trace over your soaking wet, tight hole while rubbing your clit with feathery touches.

Lifting his head up and locking his baby blues with your eyes, he lustfully smirks, “Oh, I'm gonna finger you til you're a mess, crying and squirming for me, baby.”, while slipping his pointer finger into your tight, virgin pussy.

A pussy that wouldn't be virginal after tonight. And neither would Coriolanus’ big cock. Oh yea, he's fucking you tonight. You're no longer going to be virgins cause he's overly horny; he's so ready to fuck you and get all of his horny needs out on you.

Coryo's watched so much porn on PanX that he's ready to tear up your pussy and test some of the moves in the video he's watched on you.

Coryo pumps his finger lazily on and out of your cunt while nipping and kissing your small boobs. When you buck up your hips and whine that he's teasing you, Coryo bites one of your small tits only to soothe the sting with his tongue while shoving a second finger into your cunt. He uses his thumb to press circles into your clit while pistoning his fingers in and out of your pussy, pressing against that spongy spot deep inside of you, while biting and kissing your little boobies.

“Coryo, it feels so good.” You moan out, your back arching slightly against the bed as you feel the pleasure building up inside of you.

“I bet it does, baby. Your cunt's so wet, she's taking my fingers in so deep.” Coryo smirks, his normally icy eyes now dark and blown wide with lust. “I'm gonna make you cum so hard on my fingers, you're not even gonna remember what fucking day it is.” He promises you before placing butterfly kisses all over your itty-bitty titties while pounding his fingers so fast in and out of your cunt that the force of its literally pushing you up the bed.

Your head's thrashing around and your hair, that was curled special for tonight's dance, is now a matted mess all over your pillow as you babble out pleas of, “Coryo…please.”, and , “Please, make me cum…”, while the sound of your pussy loudly squelching bounces off the walls as your boyfriend fingers you so fast, hard, and deep that you're about to see stars.

Your hands claw at his shoulders, freshly painted red nails leaving scratches just as red against his pale skin, in a feeble attempt to anchor yourself. Your nerves are shot and you feel pleasure coursing throughout your body, stemming from your core, from the effects of Coryo's wet tongue swirling around your small boobs paired with his long, lithe fingers perfectly hitting your g-spot and filling up your cunt deliciously.

You cum hard around his fingers, his name falling from your lips like a sacred prayer. Coryo doesn't stop his ministrations on your tits or your cunt. No, he continues to fuck your cunt hard and deep; altering between pressing hard circles against your swollen clit and rubbing it harshly back and forth. His mouth continues to devour your tiny titties as if they're the finest dessert he's ever had in his entire life.

And before you could even comprehend what was happening, you're a squirming mess on the bed crying out Coryo's name once again while squirting and soaking both your boyfriend's hand and the bed with your juices.

“Your cunt loves this pounding, don't it baby? Yea?” Coryo asks, grunting against your small boobs as he snaps his hips hard into yours, fucking you into the mattress.

“Yea, Coryo.” You quickly nod. “Feels so good.” You add in a whiny mewl.

“What feels good? Does my big cock feel good tearing up this pussy? Huh?” Coryo taunted as he pounded into you relentlessly.

“Yes. Yes, your big cock feels so good.” You agree with a moan, feeling a knot start to tighten in your lower belly.

“Fuck…” Your boyfriend grunts against your small breasts. “Your cunts so tight and wet ‘round my cock; feels so, so good, baby.” He says, his voice husky with passion and lust, as his large hands grab and squeeze your tiny titties with such fervor, so much so that every touch seemed desperate and full of desire. All the while he continues to pound your pussy with every ounce of energy that he can muster.

One of your hands tangles into Coryo's halo of light blonde curls while your other hand digs into his shoulder, nails leaving crescent moon shaped marks in his pale skin. Your breath hitches as you beg your boyfriend to make you come, again, as his cock slides in and out of your tight, wet, cunt in such a quick pace that it makes loud obscene squelching sounds.

“I'm so close, Coryo. Please, I wanna cum…” You whimper, desperately hiking your legs up higher over Coryo's hips in an attempt to feel some friction; to be able to cum.

“I'll make you cum, baby. I'll make you cum.” Coryo declared before lifting his head off your chest and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips chased yours in desperate open mouth kisses as his hands covered your boobs while he fucked you hard and fast.

“Coryo…I'm gonna cum…” You breathlessly whine on his lips, feeling your orgasm fastly approaching.

“Cum right now, Y/N. Cum right now, baby.” Coryo demanded, his lips hovering over yours in a ghost of a kiss as his hands sharply kneaded your small boobs.

Suddenly you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you and you're cumming hard over your boyfriend's big cock. Your boyfriend slows his pace down slightly so you can ride out your high. He feels in heaven with your juices flowing down his cock.

“I'm gonna cum soon.” Coriolanus informs you as he feels his balls begin to tighten up, a sign that he's getting ready to empty them.

“You're the only boy I've ever been with, Coryo, and I'm not on birth control. You can't cum inside of me.” You frantically tell him, a bit frightened at the prospect of accidentally getting knocked up while 18 and unwed.

“Can I cum on your titties then?” He asks you, his icy eyes twinkling.

Could be cum on your titties? Well, yea. It was better than him knocking you up, right?

“Yes, Coryo. You can cum on my titties.” Was all Coriolanus needed to hear before quickly pulling out of you and scrambling to straddle your chest.

Not knowing what to do with your hands, you rest them on his thighs as he quickly pumps his cock over your tiny titties. Coryo’s biting his lip as he points his angry, red tip straight at your small boobs.

Oh gods…just the thought of covering your small chest with his hot seed is enough to send the platinum blonde careening over the cliff of pleasure. His muscles in his thighs are tensing under your touch and his balls are tightening up while his cock throbs and twitches. Then, before he can even think, he's grunting your name and his icy eyes are rolling into the back of his head as he cums: spurts of hot pearly white ropes landing on your soft skin; decorating every inch of your chest.

“Fuck…” Coriolanus sighs under his breath. “You're so beautiful, baby, with my cum painting your titties.” He states, in awe of his thick pearly seed slowly rolling down your chest.

He's mesmerized by the sight. So much so that he shimmies his body down to slot between your legs so that he can sit up between you and rub his cum into your chest like a lotion in order to mark you. To mark his territory; make you his.

You weren't expecting him to run his cum into you, or to hold his hands out above your mouth while simply ordering you to, “Lick them clean, babygirl.”

Your boyfriend’s baritone is thick, raspy, and full of dominance which causes you to instantly listen to him and do what he says. You lick his hands clean, your tongue working and swirling around one before moving onto the other. The taste of his seed’s salty on your tongue; but it's not too bad.

Once Coryo's hands are clean, he decides to repay the favor by licking your small chest clean. Your platinum blonde boyfriend runs his tongue all over your tiny titties, cleaning any and all trace of his spend off of you.

Yes, it's probably not considered normal for a young man to do this and might be considered a kink, but Coriolanus doesn't care. Your small boobs get him going and he just has to lick them clean until they're slick and shiny with his saliva.

And once your itty-bitty titties are clean and glistening from his makeshift spit shine, Coryo lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms.

“Did you like our first time, Y/N?” Coryo asks, his voice like honey, as his fingers lightly trace patterns on your hip.

“Yea.” You smile. “It was better than the stories I heard my friends tell me.” You reveal while playing with the mop of light blonde sweaty curls on top of his head.

“Well, it seems like your friends don't have boyfriends that love them.” Coryo sneers. Smiling wide, so wide that too many of his pearly whites are showing, your boyfriend tells you, “But I love you so much, baby, that I'd do anything for you.”

And he meant that too. He'd do anything for you and the love obsession he has for you. In fact his obsession for you is so strong that he wants to marry you once the two of you graduate from the Academy.

But, in order to do that he needs money. He needs money to fix up his penthouse properly and to make sure that his Grandma’am, Tigris, and you are able to live in the lap of luxury. He wants to give his family the life that they deserve. Coriolanus wants to provide the life worthy of a Snow to Grandma’am, Tigris, and you. Especially you.

So, Coryo's determined to win the Plinth Prize to provide a good life for his family. And when the rules for winning the prize changes, well, Coryo's willing to do anything it takes to be the victor. Even cheating, because then he'll be rich enough to marry you and take care of his family.

And that's his end goal, to restore his ancestral penthouse to his former glory and to shower the women in his life with riches. And you'll be the most important woman in his life because you'll be Mrs. Snow.

But…that pesky Casca High-as-a-kite-bottom promised to destroy the future on anyone that's caught cheating to win the Plinth Prize. A promise that Coryo needs to heed…

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[therealcocoshady]

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alley…

Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proof’s passing…🕊️ He’s super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him 😔🥺

DIFFICULT 🕊️

Eminem x Assistant Reader

Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.

Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort

Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests 👀. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. ❤️

Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here ! 

He’s coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, don’t worry, he’s going to show up. 

It’s your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. That’s what personal assistants are for. 

He’s never late, you said. I’m sure there’s a good reason. Something must have come up… 

It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make. 

Look, if the album’s not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said. 

No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, he’s always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version that’s more than ready for you. We wouldn’t have you come from LA otherwise… 

I’ll try an call him, you said. 

You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldn’t show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldn’t screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the week’s other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last week’s event were still appearing, and the following week’s too. It looked like someone had cleared this week’s schedule and you knew it wasn’t you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole week’s schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters. 

Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ? 

Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ? 

All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ? 

Um… I don’t know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ? 

Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. What’s wrong ? 

He’s just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, Nate… 

No, we’re all good, she said reassuringly. Look, I’m in Chicago, but I can try and call him… 

Don’t worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.

Thank you ! See you ! 

Hailie didn’t seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasn’t necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasn’t any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didn’t really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasn’t really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didn’t expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I don’t do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didn’t mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room. 

Did you talk to him ? Paul asked. 

No news, you said. That’s odd. I’ll go to his place and if he’s not there, I’ll try the hospitals. I’m sorry. 

I hope he’s ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ? 

Of course. 

You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshall’s house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didn’t have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasn’t geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in. 

The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office… It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadn’t checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). That’s where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned. 

Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ? 

No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up. 

You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games. 

What are you doing here ? He asked. 

I came to check you weren’t dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious. 

Wait… What day is it ? He asked in confusion. 

Monday, you said. April 12th. 

Fuck. 

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasn’t to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word. 

Are you alright ? You asked. 

Does it look like I’m alright ? He groaned. 

Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say. 

Why are you ask, then ?

If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasn’t him. You sighed and looked at the CDs he’d been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. That’s when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friend’s passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew. 

Do you… Um… Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively. 

I need a shower, he said. 

Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long he’d been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought. 

Need help ? You asked. 

Y-Yeah, he said. 

Shower ? 

Yeah. 

Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. You’d seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you weren’t supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. You’d spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy. 

Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom. 

Feeling better ? You asked. 

Yeah.

When was the last time you showered ? You asked. 

I don’t know, he shrugged. 

Last time you ate ? 

Fri…Sat… I don’t know, he replied. 

He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost. 

Are you hungry ? You asked. 

A bit, he replied. 

Sit, you said. I’ll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ? 

Whatever, he said. 

He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Mom’s Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling. 

Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ? 

You need to eat a real meal, you simply said. 

He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didn’t have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul. 

So ? He asked. How is he ? 

He’s… sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldn’t want you telling people how you had found him. 

Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ? 

The flu, you said. It’s pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. He’s really sorry about the meeting. 

Alright. I’ll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, we’ll have to set up another meeting. 

I’ll let him know. 

You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence. 

The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice. 

Couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest. 

No need, he said. I can… I can work. 

Bullshit, you sighed. 

He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly. 

Went was this taken ? You asked. 

March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. It’s the last picture of him I have… 

His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin. 

It’s ok to cry, you know ? You said softly. 

You weren’t too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours. 

Fu-fuck, I-I’m sorry, he said after a while. 

You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. It’s ok. He was your best friend. It’s ok to be sad. 

I-I fucked up…

It’s just a work meeting, you reminded him. We’ll set up another meeting with Dre, I’ll move a couple of appointments, it’s fine. 

No, not… I-I…

He was trying to speak but he wasn’t making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch… You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective. 

Thank you, Y/N, he said. 

Were you like this all weekend ? You asked. 

Yeah… 

Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ? 

I… Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this. 

I see, you said. So… what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ? 

I guess, he shrugged. I… I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed. 

I guess a lot of people miss him, you said. 

No, it was… I saw them and they were wearing… My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldn’t even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didn’t know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me. 

His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didn’t really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « It’s just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proof’s death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proof’s family, who didn’t only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him. 

His wife… She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we don’t speak too much and… I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but… I don’t know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? I’m supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. I’m supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place. 

Do you keep in touch ? You asked. 

I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, she’s too proud but… Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ? 

I know, you said. You shouldn’t feel guilty… 

No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it… I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him. 

For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand. 

Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof… He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be making burgers. 

I’m sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly. 

I hope, he said. He was everything to me… Like… We didn’t love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that he’s gone… I’m just me. And it’s hard. 

You’re still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you. 

I… I don’t know, he said. 

He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you weren’t too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time. 

You should go to bed, you said softly. 

I guess, he shrugged. 

You need rest, you insisted. I’ll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything. 

Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I… I don’t feel like being… alone. 

Sure, you said with a hint of surprise. 

Ok. 

He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow. 

You don’t want to come ? 

Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your… room ? 

You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. I’m not sleeping on the damn couch. 

You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, you’d been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently. 

Come, he said. 

Ok, you said as you sat next to him. 

Remove your socks, he instructed. 

I’m not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold. 

You’re not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out. 

I just put them on this morning, you said. They’re not dirty. 

It’s a pet peeve, he said. Just… Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers. 

You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didn’t seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you. 

You’re not laying down ? He finally asked. 

Um… Sitting is fine, you said. 

Can you lie down, please ? He asked. 

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning. 

What’s up ? You asked. Do you need anything ? 

I think it’s the Redbull, he said. I haven’t drank much else in days. It’s keeping me awake. 

Oh, you said. Let’s talk, then. 

About what ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. What’s up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ? 

Yeah… I don’t know, he said sheepishly. I… I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldn’t go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and… I’m not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof it’s… too hard. 

Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proof’s passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasn’t a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to. 

Ok, you said. 

Ok ? He asked. 

What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? I’m not going to. If you want to quit and retire, that’s ok, you’re allowed. 

Really ? 

I mean… Yeah, you said simply. It’s your decision. If you think you don’t have anything else to bring to the table, that’s fine. You’ve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, that’s fine. 

Wait… No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ? 

It’s Paul’s job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, I’m just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my job’s fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentist’s appointments. Next one is in two months by the way. 

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didn’t look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didn’t have anything left to prove to anyone. 

So you don’t care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look. 

As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you don’t put out that last album. It’s your best work so far. But as a person… What I care about is you, Marshall. I’m in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say that’s too hard, then that’s too hard and I trust you on that. If you think you’ll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that. 

Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively. 

I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out. 

He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable. 

Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn. 

You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly. 

He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured you’d stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.

(…)

Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes. 

What time is it ? He groaned. 

About 7PM, you said. 

You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed. 

I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ? 

I’m not getting dressed, and I’m not going out, he said with an eye roll. 

And I’m not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You won’t regret it. 

You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughters’ birthday. 

What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.

You know what we’re doing here, you said. It’s after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace. 

You… You arranged for this ?

I did, you said. They’ll be open until 8:30PM. I’m sorry, I didn’t find a florist open, though. 

He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when they’re visiting someone’s grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses you’d shared until now, this one wasn’t greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional. 

A-Are you alright ? You asked. 

Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me. 

You’re welcome, you said with a smile. 

Ready to go ? He asked. 

Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit. 

The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you weren’t too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous. 

Did you know Proof’s family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place. 

Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didn’t. 

The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged. 

I’m sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacy… 

It’s fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too. 

How did it go ? 

Pretty well, he said. I’m seeing them later this week. Over dinner. 

That’s great, you replied with a smile. I’m happy for you. 

Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable… And… Thank you for today, especially. 

You’re welcome, you said with a small smile. 

He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away… But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair. 

Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly. 

Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek. 

Do you need me ? 

Y/N… I always need you. 

And just like that… You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshall’s soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours. 

[kaiser1ns]

21ST CENTURY GIRL ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ENDO YAMATO X FEM!READER .ᐟ if anyone keeps insulting you, tell 'em you're my lady, go tell them. whatever other people say, whatever this world tells you, you're the best to me just the way you are.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

Tension, concentration, only breathing and footsteps could be heard. Focused, you are focused. “Baby, on your left.” your boyfriend Endo Yamato said as he was spectating you because you were the last one alive on the team, and in fact, that was not good news. You have played the game countless times, but at moments like these, you were hella worried, looking around carefully, ready to shoot and most likely miss.

“Where are they?” you spoke into the mic as you moved across the map and heard your teammates pinning warnings, telling you to be careful. Your heart pounded as you scanned the site, eyes darting to every shadow, every possible cover where someone might be hiding. Endo’s voice cut through the silence, low and teasing. “Clutch or gay,” he snickered, trying to tease you as always.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, gripping the mouse tighter. Exhaling, you rolled your shoulders back, willing your nerves to settle. Just three opponents left. You’d handled worse odds before. The first opponent stepped out from behind a crate—bam, headshot. The victory tone chimed in your headset. You swung around, barely registering the second enemy’s movement in your peripheral vision. Another headshot. The third tried to duck behind cover, but you outmaneuvered him, and the final shot landed true and you heard Defenders win.

The big green Victory screen flashed across the monitor. You exhaled deeply, letting yourself finally feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "That was so stressful..." you said, taking a long breath before reaching for your water. Endo chuckled as you both closed the game and rejoined each other on Discord, turning your cameras on.

"But you did so good," he said, grinning. "You deserve a reward for that." It took you a second to notice—he wasn’t in his pajamas anymore but fully dressed, which threw you off.

"Why are you dressed? Are you going somewhere?" You wouldn’t be surprised if he was, either alone or with Takiishi. He always did whatever he wanted, and you couldn’t help but feel a little concerned. He turned off his camera briefly, saying he had to run some errands with a few delinquents. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry about it, doll,” he added. The call ended, and you both said “I love you” before signing off.

Delinquents, of course. Your relationship with Endo was still low-key and private; as much as you wanted to make it public, the fear of gossip and criticism held you back. But he always reassured you. Don’t ever be afraid of what people say. You’re okay. You’re perfect, worth every bit of love. You’re beautiful, and you’re mine. Those words would echo in your mind whenever doubts crept in, making you feel more confident in yourself.

Just as you were thinking of him, your phone buzzed—it was him, calling sooner than expected. He must have finished his errands quicker than usual, which meant more time together. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Would you mind opening the door for me, pretty girl?” he said, slightly breathless, and you wondered if he’d run all the way to your apartment. "Yamato…why are you here?" You hurried to the door, peeking through the peephole only to see him standing there with a big grin. As you opened the door, you were met with a massive plushie and a bouquet, blocking his face.

"Happy birthday to the prettiest, baddest, smartest, cutest, most amazing girlfriend in the whole wide world!" he announced, his voice bright.

My birthday? You put a hand over your mouth, a little shocked—you’d completely forgotten about your birthday with all the gaming, thoughts of him, and everyday life. “Baby, you really…you didn’t have to…” you stammered, feeling tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever done something like this for you. You took the plushie from his hands, hugging it close as his smile grew. 

“Don’t worry about anything else,” he said, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

Inside, you placed the bouquet in the largest vase you could find, setting the plushie carefully on your bed. Meanwhile, Endo made himself comfortable on the couch, checking something on his phone before glancing up at you with a playful smirk. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“For what?” you asked, confused. He rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh, standing and taking your hand, guiding you towards your bedroom. “For your birthday, of course. I’m taking you out—and yes, in the middle of the night.”

Now in front of your wardrobe, you hesitated, glancing back at him as he relaxed on your bed, watching you and how you tried to decide what to put on in such late hours. “Wear the black dress you bought a few months ago. You never wore it, even though you promised yourself you would.” Slipping into the dress, he draped his jacket over your shoulders and you stepped outside together. Walking hand in hand with people recognized him, casting glances, but you didn’t care.

Everybody wanna love you, you thought, everybody gonna love you. You deserve to be loved. And here you were—loved, completely, by him.

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.

[catiuskaa]

the poem about home.

sum: redamancy: (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

wc: 1.1k

[☆★ 🌌 ★☆]

there’s a silence that falls down the room, even if it’s not as fast as your tears. it’s impendent gloom had threatened to carve a hole in your chest for days, the weight of it looming over you like a curse you couldn’t get rid off, a lump in your throat that dried off your mouth and tightened your chest.

and ultimately, it had fallen.

you were welcomed by his shoes in front of the door, a view that while it made you cheerful inside, excited to see him again, made the aforementioned feeling seep in deeper, simmering with worry.

he was not supposed to be there.

why would he be there, when you both had agreeded that this, that it couldn’t work and that the best choice was leaving something that hadn’t started?

it’s a memory that you cannot run away from, because ever since then there it was, casting its grey over you because you had accepted said fate and that if that was what he wanted you were okay with his choice thinking you couldn’t miss him if you hadn’t already kissed him.

what a lie.

you throw your umbrella to the floor and you kick your shoes off, and it feels like the fastest you’ve done so in ages, not bothering for a second about the wood that could get stained or scratched or how you’ll probably regret merely throwing your jacket off.

you scan the whole appartment, and ultimately, to your confusion, he’s nowhere to be seen.

those are his shoes. you know it. you’ve seen them in front of your door for months as you walked in, welcoming you with a familiar feeling almost as warm as his embrace.

you can’t help but bring your hands to your face. worry. desperation. confusion. there’s no order in your mind as your feelings rain on you, forgetting about whether how good had they been locked up and bottled in the back of your head.

that’s how you break, tearing up once more. but before you give yourself time to sob, there’s a soft knock on your door.

you approach it softly, scared that maybe there’s a chance you’d wake up. you don’t want to, because the last time you’d seen him had also been a dream and maybe having a nightmare is also worth it if it could mean you’d see him again.

so you open the door. unprepared, afraid, a shivering mess.

your eyes widen when he hugs you as soon as the door is away.

“hannie.” you whisper, your arms not able to follow orders just yet, your body freezing against his warm embrace.

He just hugs you tightly, like a sailor tying his boat to a piece of land, so it can’t float away and leave him astray, to keep him safe and sound, a rocking home that he can return to. a lighthouse. a safe space.

“instead of apologizing, i’ll say i love you.”

his voice is low. broken. a murmur that travels through the air, sounding terrified at the thought that its waves could be interpreted, heard and understood. a whisper to let out what seems to be the same feeling, haunting him just as much as it had been to you.

because no one could have prepared you for what missing something you’ve never had felt like. no matter the fights, the ups, the downs and the inifinite amount of in-betweens. no matter what anyone else said except the both of you, because, because, and because, because you love him, because he loves you, and there could be nothing wrong with that, because how could it, when it’s love?

and maybe you’ve been mad, terribly worried, kept in the dark for so long, away from his thoughts, his dreaded dark piece of mind hidden and rotting inside him inside a chest with no lock for you to find the key.

“thank you for worrying about me. i love you.”

the tears that had been holding on to a red thread could only last for so long, the tears falling down your cheeks and the red thread finding its place on your fingers. it is only then when you hug him back, an embrace tighter than the ones in airports and hospitals, in funerals and memorials, and even birthdays and weddings. a hug full of words you couldn’t say because they hadn’t been created yet, despite how you knew it in your heart. even if love creats poets there may not be words enough to develop sonets about or beloveds.

so you cry and hug him tighter, because there’s nothing else you can do.

“thank you. i love you.”

you don’t have it in you to say anything. you wouldn’t know what to say. and his voice is weak. powerless. you don’t know what happened and maybe you never will, but the source would never mind if its outcome was this, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind, and there’s no clue to what you’ve done or could do.

so you shake your head no and hug him tighter.

“i love you so much.”

his arms threaten to fall to your sides due to how he disarms himself, falling unexposed, falling, falling and falling and letting himself fall because in the end it doesn’t even matter if it’s your arms he can land on.

so he hugs you tighter, the sheer force almost making the both of you end up on the floor. his voice isn’t shattering, nor is it quivering. it’s low, as if it’s set on night mode, a gentle, monotone, deep hum filled with air.

“i love you inmensely.”

and he does. his tone doesn’t matter, nor does the setting, the time or the circumstances because the only truth is that same conclusion.

“i love you endlessly.”

he needs to continue. he’s started, and he can’t stop now.

“i love you completely. I love you so much. I really love you. I love you the most. I love you the most in the whole world. I’m completely and madly in love with you.”

there are no dramatic pauses in between his statements because he doesn’t need them. your love fills him, the tightness of your embrace not crumbling, your eyes failing to look at him through your tears, so your sobbing dims to at least be able to hear him.

in one way or another, love turns us poets. maybe it’s the goodbye that scares us, so that’s why we leave it to airports, hospitals, memorials and funerals. maybe it’s because we’re scared that love is leaving us. maybe it’s because it could never return, leaving us away from what once tasted so sweet, and punishes us for letting it go once them presumptuosly attempt it one more time.

so you hug him tighter, because you love him too, even if in that moment you find no ways to put it into words.

because just for a moment icarus touched the sun, and here you are, basking on his warmth, your sun, your moon and your stars. hugging him tighter and tighter just in case you do end up waking up.

it takes love to be a poet, and so you love, love and love, like a ship with its anchor, carrying your love for him everywhere you go, giving the ship the world to love. you love him the same way a hearth loves fire, with enough passion to make it a home. like a candle in the light who falls in love with darkness, its monsters that creep surrounding it, drowning him. your little star. and you recognize those monsters, and you hug them too.

because you found a home in him, and you want him to find a home in you too.

[☆★ 🌌 ★☆]

~kats, who saw this reel in instagram and started absolutely dissolving her pillow in tears

[highfantasy-soul]

Wait wait wait - XD

Mismag episode 7 spoilers

---

[Prefacing this with I'm not angry nor judging anyone at the table - having no idea what their true thoughts on these things are, just pointing out how silly and perhaps purposefully 'missing the point' some of the characters are being played as]

Please tell me the adventuring party was Brennan still doing a bit about not understanding that Tabby was 100% directly mimicking Evan (even though it started out Evan realizing he was looking in a mirror, then idk if everyone just got lost in the sauce and that realization just got buried in the improv yes-anding far away from the starting point)

Brennan just screamed that Evan's vibes are RANCID!

Evan who just gave a whole speech about how he was emotionally crushed (and low-key judgy) about how Jammer said 'family on 6' but his single mom of 3 didn't adopt a troubled 17 year old whom she'd never met. Then feeling icky that a rock they've been traveling with and using for info wants to be a part of the friendship.

How the whole point of him wanting to be a dog was that people didn't get rid of you - they kept you and you didn't need to be explicitly useful for them to still want you. Then Tabby literally said the exact same thing - being afraid they'd leave him behind when they found the wall he was supposed to go in despite how useful he'd been with as much energy as he had with the magic and Evan POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PROMISE IT!! Despite Evan asking the same of his group of friends.

Claiming that Tabby was 'love bombing' them to get them to do what Tabby wanted, but not recognizing Evan does the same - then blames people for abandoning him even though none of them have.

AND THE PARALLELS WITH HOW EVAN TAPES OUT A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING AND TABBY HAS A LITERAL OUTLINE IN A WALL HE'S SUPPOSED TO DIRECTLY FIT INTO AND YET EVAN CLAIMS TO WANT TO BE ABLE TO BREAK OUT OF THAT 'NECESSITY' TO HAVE A PLACE WHERE YOU FIT AND JUST BE ABLE TO EXIST WITHOUT NEEDING TO FIT A SPECIFIC SHAPE/PURPOSE IN THE WORLD

How Evan only sees one way his 'needs' can be met - and that's with the group all living together with their themed rooms and adventuring forever (exactly what Tabby said) and getting really disregulated when the group wants to be in each other's lives in a different way - leading Evan to almost fully cut everyone off because they didn't fit in the small box of 'this is the way they'll show they love me', completely missing all the ways that they, too, get to be their own person and just because Evan isn't stitched to them at the hip doesn't mean they aren't a family.

Tabby is pretty clearly just becoming 'sentient' and he's mimicking what he's seeing around him - namely, Evan's desperate need to belong and be a part of something permanently

I have no idea how much of all that was a bit meant to highlight how Evan just can't clock that comparison (even though at the beginning of Tabby waking up fully he seemed to - and then promptly decided that instead of facing that in himself and extending some compassion and empathy to Tabby, he veered to a hard 'we need to destroy this thing that reminds me of how I behave') or how much was Brennan and Lou just getting lost in the sauce of how to interpret Tabby's every move into something bad, but I'm glad the fems and thems of the table called it out and acknowledged that's what was happening.

I really hope the next episode circles back on Evan's initial realization that Tabby was like looking in the mirror and that's how Evan is to be around and there will be some growth there instead of Evan and Jammer just teaming up to destroy Tabby. K dropped the line about making love sustainable which earned a knowing look from Aabria, so I hope that, since Evan was allowed to have his tirade against K (for good reason) episode 3, K will get to call Evan on his shit too.

I think it was a really smart design to have the motives be so explicit this season and at this point I'm very very interested in seeing how the different characters realize their motive, but also reach the point of understanding what they thought they wanted wasn't actually exactly what they need - Jammer realizing that 'teamwork' might need to be achieved differently from how he's been going about it, he might need to pivot. Evan realizing that 'belonging' doesn't mean everyone is with you all the time and constantly reassuring you they don't hate you, they can live their own lives without that meaning they've ditched you.

Idk, very rambly, but the last episode sparked so many ideas in me about how the characters can face themselves and grow due to the wonderful world, mechanics, and plot Aabria has set up.

[cherigu]

— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Lessons!

Genre: smut, best friends / roommates to lovers Pairing: sub!jeongguk x softdom!reader Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: low-key fuckgirl!reader, inexperienced!jk, mutual pining, choking, corruption kink, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

“So you want me to tell you how to..” you trailed off while still trying to process the question that was asked not even a minute ago. “How to finger someone, yes” Jeongguk mumbled, suddenly ashamed at the scandalous question. He began to fumble with the long sleeves of his white shirt, nervously speaking up again to ease the tension. “I mean.. Y-you don’t have to of course! Not if it makes you uncomfortable, y’know? Just found it easy to ask you.”

The thing is, you had no issue teaching him. He was your best friend and roommate so naturally he’d heard it all. You were pretty open about everything, including your sex life. You weren’t one to have shame in your game, especially with how many stories there were to tell. Ranging from one-night stands that had you drier than the Sahara desert, to hookups that left you seeing stars. Jeongguk was okay with this, never feeling uncomfortable with the taboo subject. You still decided to maintain boundaries, making sure to never bring anyone home.

Out of respect for Jeongguk and his precious sleep, you strictly fucked at the other person’s place, with no exceptions. Strangely enough, you stuck by this rule even when Jeongguk wasn’t home. The whole idea of another man entering your and Jeongguk’s space just felt odd to you. Part of you knew why, but that bit of information would be stored far in the back of your mind. Maybe if you were in denial for long enough you’d finally get rid of the feelings you had for Jeongguk.

It sounds hypocritical to go on rambling about how many men you’ve fucked and then admit that you have a crush on your best friend, but who could blame you? He was so mesmerizing, the way his hair had grown out to frame his face beautifully, big brown eyes that glittered even in the darkest settings, matching the glint of the piercing on his lip. Speaking of which, his pretty pink lips were hard to not stare at while he talked, almost as if they were begging you to kiss them. You could go on but you’d never stop. If you would ever fuck anyone in your apartment, it’d have to be him 100%.

You knew this wasn’t an option though, you couldn’t risk over 10 years of friendship just because your pussy got wet with something as simple as him readjusting his glasses. Perhaps the casual one-night stands were your way of suppressing what you felt for him. But how successful could this coping mechanism really be if you found yourself imagining it was Jeongguk inside of you instead of a random man?

“I don’t mind, but can’t you just watch porn or something?” You cocked a brow, watching his cheeks suddenly grow pink. 

“I dont.. I’ve never watched it..” He dropped his head as if it were something he should’ve been ashamed of.

There was another reason his bold request had caught you off guard. Jeongguk was a virgin, making hookups fall out of the question. This suddenly made your chest bubble in jealousy as you wondered what he could possibly need fingering lessons for, or much rather for who. He didn’t have a girlfriend, but that was only as far as you knew. You were sure he’d tell you if he was seeing someone, right?  

“Why do you need to learn?” Your eyes redirect elsewhere, afraid of your shallow gaze letting him know you were slightly mad at the thought of him pleasuring someone else. His, however, were glued onto your face as he threw his hands up.

“Why so many questions n/n? ‘m just embarrassed.. feel like I should know this stuff at my age” He pouted. 

Feeling relief from the fact that there wasn’t someone else involved, you spoke to Jeongguk as his best friend again.

“Gukkie, you know there’s no pressure in becoming sexually active y’know? This stuff comes naturally, some quicker than others, but there’s no definite age at which you should learn this stuff.” You raised your hand to pat his head. "Learn it 'cause you want to and not because you feel like you should know it"

If Jeongguk were being honest, he had only exposed half of his truth to you. Sure, he can admit that he's a bit inexperienced for his age, but he had a reason. That reason being you. Ever since the day he met you, he swore he’d never met anyone else more perfect than you. You were so gentle with him, from the times you bandaged his knee after scraping it on the pavement as a kid, to the time you held him while he fake-cried about his ex-girlfriend cheating on him.

It’s not like he loved Jieun very much anyway, he’d only dated her as a poor attempt to get over you. Seeing as it had clearly not worked, the only option he had was to convince himself, and everyone else, that he had been truly in love with Jieun. So as soon as he heard that she’d hooked up with her dorm mate, he put on his best act and cried endlessly. Apart from doing it to seal the deal about Jieun, he had also secretly enjoyed being in your arms that whole time you comforted him. He strained his body to release every tear he could for the sake of staying as long as he could in your embrace.

Ever since then, he couldn’t muster up the courage to date again. You had ruined his life in the best and worst way possible. Yeah, he was a 23-year-old virgin who never had a legit girlfriend to gain experience with, but he was also Jeon Jeongguk who got coddled by his best friend every chance she got because she loved him very much. He knew you loved him, but maybe not in the way that he loved you.

He was no match for the men that ripped the moans out of your mouth at night while you desperately clutched the sheets, begging for release. He had to learn how to surpass them one way or another, and for that, he’d need to start from the root. He couldn’t learn from porn, no, those girls weren’t you. If he asked you directly how to pleasure someone, you’d subconsciously speak about how you prefer to be pleasured and to learn that was his goal. 

Sitting face to face with you, hand on his cheek, he couldn’t help but feel warm inside. His gaze dropped to your cherry-glossed lips, harshly gulping while resisting the urge to kiss you.

This didn’t go unnoticed by you, beginning to smirk at how obvious the boy in front of you was being at this very moment.

“Or how about..” your fingers caressed his cheek, slowly beginning to drop to his neck. “Instead of teaching you, I show you, hm?” you whispered, carefully testing the waters while slightly confused as to where the confidence came from, swearing you wouldn’t ruin the friendship only a few minutes ago.

The doubt in your mind was quick to subside when Jeongguk began to nod his head. The grip your hand had on the sides of his neck slightly tightened, whines already beginning to slip past his lips. His sounds alone made your imagination go wild, loving how sensitive and reactive he was to your touch. You couldn’t wait to see how fast he would get riled up, leaving you to enjoy every last bit of his neediness. The thought of being able to turn your sweet, innocent boy into a fucked out mess had arousal leaking into your underwear. 

“Sit here, m’kay? No touching, just watch, can you do that for me?” your body moved away from his, positioning yourself against the headboard with your legs in his direction. He hummed a quiet, “yes” and you smiled, “Good, good boy” Your legs began to part, exposing the wet patch in your white panties that his oversized tee previously concealed. Your delicate fingers traveled to your thighs, inching closer to your heat with slow movements. “Gotta feel her up first”

Four teasing fingers became two as your hand finally left your thigh and reached your clothed cunt. Your middle and ring fingers rubbed small circles in the middle, making sure to spread the arousal and collect new slick. Once the material became soaked and sticky enough, you began to slide the panties down your legs, fully exposing yourself to the wide-eyed boy in front of you.

“Like what you see?” 

Jeongguk didn’t even need to answer the question, his erect cock did all the talking for him. The grey sweatpants he wore only emphasized the size of his bulge, noticeably growing painfully hard. His tip began to throb at the sight of your two digits parting your lips, showing how wet you were.

“Rub slowly, like this” you demonstrated, sliding your fingers up and down your glistening cunt, “Never fast, unless she’s close. This isn’t a competition on how fast she can cum, take your time and focus on pleasing her.” your voice wavered towards the end as your lower body began to grow more sensitive by the second. Your eyes looked up at Jeongguk who frantically nodded, making sure to take mental notes despite the aching length inside of his pants. 

“Here’s the cli- mmm, t-the clit.” a moan escaped your mouth after your hand had traveled up to stimulate the perky nub. Heat began to build up in your stomach, letting you know that this lesson would soon turn into you focusing on your climax. 

“Can cum like this, or by touching down here, ah fuck” you whined, feeling the familiar stretch of your fingers entering your hole. Slowly pumping in, you tried to stay collected. Jeongguk needed your help, and you would provide it by all means necessary. That didn’t mean it wasn’t becoming increasingly hard for the both of you to not break, though. “D-don’t just ngh go in and out hmm, curl your f-fingers too, yea?”

Jeongguk was doing everything in his power to not lunge at you. His brain was going numb at the sight of your head thrown back, bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you struggled to swallow back your needy moans, doing everything you could to continue talking Jeongguk through the process. He was desperate for any sort of contact at this point, a hand immediately flying to cup his cock. Giving it a short squeeze, he began to softly palm it. Sitting at the foot of the bed, he felt so close to you yet so far. The squelching sound of your fingers pounding in and out of your pussy had him leaking enough pre-cum to make a patch of his grey sweatpants grow dark.

So caught up in your own pleasure, you had forgotten about the boy in front of you. His whimper was enough to make your eyes shoot open. Before you stood a desperate Jeongguk, tears welling up in his eyes due to the pain of the erection that wouldn’t stop growing impossibly harder. He was rutting against his hand, feeling so hot that his bangs were now stuck to the thin sheet of sweat forming on his forehead. You hummed at the sight, causing his rosy pink face to rise up. “Take off your pants, baby” you barely breathed out, more fucked out from your fingers than usual. 

Jeongguk wasted no time in stripping his lower half, excited cock hitting his lower abdomen with a slight smacking sound as he sat there waiting for your next instruction. Your head flew back again as your fingers uncontrollably quickened their pace at the sight of Jeongguk’s big, pretty cock. You regained enough composure to slow down your movements, not wanting to cum just yet. A free hand reached out to your side, grabbing at the sticky lace panties before throwing them at Jeongguk. “Touch yourself with them,” you ordered.

Jeongguk swore he could come from your words alone. His mind stuttered, already feeling so pussy-drunk despite not having touched it yet. He snapped back with the pain that shot through his eager cock, needing release. He grabbed your panties and quickly wrapped them around his cock. Moans flew out of his mouth as he slid the wet material up and down his cock. Pleasure fogged his mind causing everything around him to become a blur. 

You were quick to catch up with Jeongguk’s pace, drawing your curled fingers in and out of your gushing pussy as they grazed your g-spot. This was all overwhelming, a good overwhelming. On one hand, you had your shy boy with his cock out, desperately tugging at it and shamelessly jerking himself off in front of you. On the other hand, the coil in your stomach felt so close to bursting with the delicious pleasure your fingers offered you, leaving you wondering how Jeongguk’s would feel after the lesson. 

The boy was delirious, babbling an incoherent mix of curses as well as your name due to the scent of your sweet essence mixing with his own. His balls tightened, a sign that he was close until a whiny voice spoke out. “Cum with me baby, so c-close” You stared at his hooded eyes through your own. 

“Don’t know if I can” he cried.

“Wanna be good for me? Don’t cum til I say so, yea?”

He nodded frantically, his movements were becoming sloppy but he was determined to show you how obedient he could be. The only sounds that echoed through the room were those of skin slapping against each other with a mix of needy whines. That soon changed when your voice filled the room, giving him permission to cum as you reached your own orgasm. The both of you felt as if you had transcended into a different universe, seeing nothing but stars and feeling euphoria flow through your veins. The high was never-ending, white stripes shooting into the soiled panties while cum dripped down your entire hand.  Your spent bodies laid on the bed momentarily, shortly before wasting no time cleaning up in order to tangle your bodies together.

 Masturbation had never felt so heavenly.

A/N: omg this was literally written with no plan whatsoever i had to do some serious improv😭 kinda rushed the end because i typed this up with plans of sleeping at 12am but it is now close to 2am and my mind is a lil foggy >.< anyways hope u liked !! don't forget to leave feedback or requests<3

[a-supernatural-writer]

Rusted Orange Leaves

Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader

It's been awhile! I am so sorry for being gone so long. Ever since graduating life has been sort of a roller coaster. Working full time along with trying to figure out student loans has been tough.

I wanted to start writing again and get back into The Lost Boys with a bit of a self indulgent fic. For context I recently lost my Nana (grandmother) a couple weeks ago and its been tough to say the very least. She was not only my grandmother but she was another mother to me and in this fic there is a lot of things that are actual things that my Nana and I would do together. Not only that but this is also a fic for anyone who might've lost there own grandmother or even a grandparent in general who you had a very close connection with.

Happy fall to all of you and I am very excited to write for one of my favorite seasons of the year. Get ready for some spooky, Halloween fun and in general fall themed fluff.

Word Count: 1,840

The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon filled David’s noise as he walked into a place that he called a second home. Music that he remembered coming out during the time of the 1910’s and 20’s played at a reasonable volume. Being loud enough for anyone to enjoy but just low enough that people could talk comfortably to each other without raising their voice. 

He smiled softly as he walked deeper into the house and caught sight of you doing your thing around the kitchen. 

You were making your grandmother’s infamous great pumpkin cookies that she made every year around the fall holidays. You smiled a little though that smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you mixed in the chocolate morsels that went in the cookies. 

But now these cookies were to be made by you and other members of your family since your grandmother unfortunately passed away not even a month ago in September, just before the leaves started to turn. 

A part of you was sentimental; making her baked goods and other recipes she taught you ever since you were little. You and your mother were really the only two who she taught her recipes to, leaving it to the both of you to teach the rest of the family. 

You had her cookies on your list along with her pumpkin and apple pie and the traditional fall soups she made from scratch. You also had some of your own recipes you’ve been wanting to make. 

With it being the beginning of October, the leaves turning their beautiful vibrant colors, you turned on the music that your grandparents played and had been going at it in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning. 

You were so engrossed in your activity that you didn’t notice your boyfriend David walk into your home. You had given him a key a while ago, turning your home into his home as well… along with your other three boyfriends; Dwayne, Marko and Paul. 

David had gotten there before any of the boys could. He knew that you were dealing with your grief in your own way. You had been having your days where certain sounds, images and even scents sent you into a crying mess. Hell, even before your grandmother passed away, you got so upset because a candle you bought smelt like her. 

You wanted to bask in her scent forever. Her smell gave you comfort and it scared you that you could never live in it again so you haven’t even lit it since her passing. Afraid to lose it and never smell it again. 

David knew that your grandparents weren’t just that, they were another set of parents; a mother and father to you. David knew how much your grandmother loved you. He and the boys got to spend some time with her and she talked about you so much and always wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. You were her first grandchild and she loved you like you were her own. 

Your grandmother even had them tear up, making them promise her that they would love you and make sure that you would always be happy and live your life. And they promised that. 

You eyed the amount of batter in your mixing bowl, finally noticing David when he walked into the kitchen, “Hey.” You said quietly, not fully trusting your feelings in that moment. You wanted to cry, but at the same time, you were feeling the most comfortable since her passing. 

David smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “Hey. I can see you’ve been busy.” 

You nodded, leaning into him, “I made some apple turnovers for the first time. I think they came out really good. I have another batch in the oven and pumpkin soup is simmering on the stove… think it’s too much?” 

David shook his head, “Nope. I think it’s perfect. Do you need any help?” David didn’t think it was too much. If anything with how much the four of them loved your food, it could never be enough. And who was he to stop you from cooking and baking, this was your way of coping, he didn’t want to stop you from healing. 

You felt warm and fuzzy when he offered to help. Cooking with David was always wonderful. It surprised you just how much he enjoyed doing the activity with you. It warmed your heart even more at the idea that you were gonna teach him your grandmother’s recipes. 

“Yeah, I can teach you her pumpkin pie and I wanted to make her chicken pot pie to go with the soup.” You could help but get excited as you explained what you wanted to make. 

David just smiled, taking off his coat and gloves, grabbing a basic brown waist apron that was hanging on a hook in your kitchen, matching your own. You got one for him after he complained a little by getting flour and food particles on his pants one night. 

He tied it around his waist and grabbed the kitchenware he needed and the ingredients that he needed. He followed your instructions as you did your own thing, chopping whatever vegetables and poultry needed for the chicken pot pie. 

Of course, during the longest part of cooking, prep work, did the others file into your home. 

Paul came in smiling at the scene before him. He never in his life thought he would see David doing such a domestic thing in his life, but then again, he didn’t think that for himself either. “Do we have to kiss the cooks?” Paul teased before giving you a kiss on the lips, tasting pumpkin and chocolate on your tongue as he gave you a stomach fluttering deep kiss that held nothing but love with no lust behind it. Just pure love. 

David rolled his eyes when Paul gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek to tease the bleach blonde. “Smells great in here.” 

Paul honestly loved it when the home smelled like this. Your home for him was a place of comfort. A place for him to unwind and just relax. That’s what made you very similar to your grandmother. Both of you made your homes feel like a home. 

He always thought your grandmother was the definition of a grandmother. A woman with a heart of gold and a pure soul. Always making sure everyone was taken care of. The day she passed was a sad one. 

He was frozen in fear the moment the news settled in for you. He had never seen someone feel so much pain that wasn’t physical. He’d seen you sob your heart out before. But seeing your face turn into anguish and cry out so loudly and so heart broken, truly shook him to his core. 

Since then he’s been treating you much more softly. It wasn’t per your request, but something in him changed and he wanted to show you just how much he cherished you. It’s not like he didn’t already, he just had a much more lustful and hornier way of going about it. 

Marko was next to walk in, carrying a small brown bag in his hand and smiled once he saw you spreading out the cookie batter on the pan, “Are those the pumpkin cookies you were talking about?” 

Marko softly grabbed your chin and placed a short kiss on each of your cheeks before placing one on your lips. 

You giggled as Marko gently nipped at your lip, “Yes. I’m gonna bake them once the rest of the apple turnovers are done… what did you get?” 

Marko smiled as he carefully pulled out two tea cups with saucers attached to them. One design to be like fall colored leaves and the other in the shape of a pumpkin with leaves. You cooed at the teacups, wanting to hold them but didn’t want to dirty them with the batter on your hands. 

“Oh, Marko. They’re so cute.” You cooed softly. Marko felt his chest swell with pride as he got you a gift that made your eyes sparkle. And he knew that tone in your voice. You only talk that way when you truly love something. 

“I’ll go put them with the rest of your collection.” He took the teacups and placed them in a wooden cupboard with glass that you used as a display case for your teacups that you pulled out in rotation to use. You had an addition to mugs and teacups and you had an ever growing collection that weren’t just sitting on a shelf but were used for different times throughout the year. 

Marko grinned to himself. He had been trying his best to make you smile recently. Little gifts and outings have been his way to do just that. Even though you’ve told him multiple times that he didn’t need to buy you any gifts, he wanted to. He loved seeing your eyes shine with happiness and he wanted to treat you. You’ve been going through your emotions and even your thoughts for the most part alone. 

You didn’t want to talk to your family much about how you were feeling, afraid of judgment on some weird level. You were afraid that your family wasn’t going to understand how you felt and the way you were going through your grieving process. 

After placing the teacups in the case, he took one of the apple turnovers you already made and took a bite of it, groaning at how good they were. “These are banging.” He comments. Paul joined in and grabbed one of his own, enjoying the freshly baked dessert. 

Dwayne was the last to walk in. Seeing you doing something that you love and glowing, his heart, if it could, would’ve fluttered. Without a word, Dwayne came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”

You shook your head, done with placing the batter on the pans, “No. I’ve been taking breaks here and there throughout the day.” 

Dwayne hummed, squeezing your waist a little, “Good.” 

He didn’t want you overworking yourself too much, even if it was doing something you loved. Sometimes, Dwayne would just make sure that you took time to rest and relax. He knew how hard the past couple weeks have been for you. If the nights of you crying in his arms didn’t tip him off, then you being extra clinging to them lately did. 

You moved to go wash your hands, Dwayne still having a grip on you and moving with you, not wanting to let go yet.

You chuckled, and after you dried off your hands, you reached up and tangled your fingers through his hair. Feeling the utmost content in this moment. 

Out of all the days that have gone by in the past couple weeks, for once you felt at ease.