#and my bed's against the wall so I can pile things in the corner

[crassussativum]

@turianspeedjunkie

Siska had bought down all the blankets and pillows he could find. He wanted Cato to be able to build a proper nest, it had seemed important to the boy. So he put them all on the bed and went into the shower. Only stopping long enough to pull Cato into his arms on the way there, and give him a long kiss. He couldn't get those tones out of his head and Siska did a deep dive among his memories as he stood in the shower, cleaning off today's mishap.

He found it in a box he'd stashed away, labeled private, secret, dreams. The first time he told Dius he loved him.

Siska came out of the shower a few minutes later, got into the soft clothes Cato had put out for him. Face deep in thought, he padded on soft feet out to see what the boy had built.

......

Siska had more blankets and pillows than Cato would have thought and at some point, he promised himself, he'd go see what other neat things were in the attic. But not now. Now, he was busy arranging said pillows and blankets.

He fluffed the pillows to make them softer and made sure that only the softest blankets were near the center of the nest where they would lay. Cato purred to himself as he worked, making everything perfect and comfortable and just right. He'd never made a nest to share before, not in the same context. He'd made them with friends and family, little places to curl up and nap or just snuggle and talk.

This nest was different though. It was to show Siska that he loved him.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!

Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??

I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.

—Love Echoes In Silence

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs. 

You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen. 

So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air. 

Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside. 

Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame. 

He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot. 

Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home. 

You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.

“Mornin’,��� Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest. 

“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?” 

He hums, squeezing you gently. 

“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling. 

“Phillip, I just got up.”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”

“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way. 

“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”

All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.

[penny00dreadful]

Can't start another WIP she said, bitch she fuckin LIED. Personal Assistant Steve to Rockstar Eddie snippet. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Smoke curled lazily above them in the slightly chilly night air. Neither of them had bothered to put any clothes back on but they were still warm enough from previous activities so it didn’t really matter.

The guy, Jake? John? James? J- Julian! That was it. Julian was standing next to him just out of arms reach now that the horny haze between the two of them had worn off.

Eddie supposed that was to be expected.

The poor guy probably had no idea if he was about to be booted unceremoniously out of a rockstars luxury hotel room after crashing together under a fog of uppers and thumping music at the after party before they both had quickly fumbled their way into Eddie's bed for the night.

He had no idea if fuckin' security or some shit was going to burst through the door and drag him out half or fully naked now that Eddie was done with him.

And it probably hadn't helped that they had been walked in on, they'd barely been in the room a minute before Steve came looking for him, talking a mile a minute about tour schedules and pre-approved interview questions before he'd realised he was looking at Eddie practically humping the guy against a wall.

They'd stopped when Steve walked in obviously but it had been pretty clear what they were doing and Steve, ever the professional had just rolled his eyes and told Eddie he'd be back in the morning.

Julian clearly had no idea if he was safe here now that the deed was done but Eddie wasn't an asshole. He could be a bit callous all right but he wasn't opposed to his hook-ups hanging around for a little bit if they seemed like cool enough people. And the guy seemed nice enough so he didn’t mind letting him stick around.

Julian sighed a little heavily and ran a hand through his muddy blonde hair. “I feel kinda bad now.”

Eddie turned his eyes over to him. “About what? The sex?” He pulled in a drag from his cigarette.

“No!” Julian answered quickly. “No, the sex was great, really. I mean about your... Your assistant? Probably not the easiest thing for him to see.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head. “Steve’s seen much worse, believe me. The stories that man could tell.” He laughed. “It's not the first time he's walked in and it probably won’t be the last but he’s practically immune to it at this stage. He’s dragged me by the hair out of celebrity drug dens, parties… he’s pulled me out of more orgy piles than I can count so you know… no skin off his back. ”

“That’s not really what I meant.”

“What then?”

Julian grimaced and glanced down with a look somewhere between guilty and sad. “You really don’t see it?”

Eddie ashed out his cigarette, shrugging and headed back inside. He wanted to get back into bed, his feet were cold and his body was aching from the show he’d just performed. Honestly he could do with as much sleep as humanly possible but he hadn't any idea what the guy was talking about. He'd meant what he'd said, Steve had seen him in just about every position it was possible for a person to be in pre-sex, mid-sex and post-sex. This was nothing new to him.

Julian followed him back inside and hovered awkwardly at the end of the bed, trying to pick his words and unsure if he should be picking his clothes back up from the floor or getting back into bed.

Eddie pulled the corner of the covers back. “I’m not going to kick you out, you can stay if you want or you can go. Up to you.”

Julian bit his lip but crawled in regardless, lying down to face Eddie. The darkness of the room and the way the two of them were lying facing towards each other felt like some kind of confessional.

“He’s clearly in love with you, dude.”

Eddie couldn’t help the full on belly laugh that came out of his mouth. “Steve?!” He asked incredulously. “No way, man. He’s my P.A. and one of my closest friends. Plus the guy is straight as an arrow. Your gaydar must be off or something.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well… I mean… look at him!”

Steve was… he was the straightest looking man around. All business suits, perfectly styled hair, slightly out of date glasses and ex-jock charisma and physique.

Julian didn’t answer, just cocked an eyebrow at him.

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, okay, I’m stereotyping but like… he fucks women.”

“You fuck women.”

“Rarely.”

“But you still do.”

“Okay… but… he… listen I know Steve, alright? The guy isn’t in love with me.”

Julian shrugged. “I dunno, man. I’m not trying to be an ass, I swear but it was very obvious… to me I guess.” He sighed again then muttered “Maybe I’m just very familiar with that look.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah." He tucked his hands under his head. "See it every time I look in the mirror.”

“Oh. Well shit. Who’re you breaking your heart over?”

“My best friend. Danny.”

Eddie hummed, rolling onto his stomach and shoving his arms under his pillow, rubbing his cheek against the fabric. “Tell me about him.”

Julian broke into a wide but bashful smile, so bright it was practically lighting up the dark room though it was sharply undercut with just a hint of melancholy.

“He’s the most loving, giving person I’ve ever met. He’d only just turned eighteen when both his parents died and out of nowhere he’s got three younger siblings that are now in his care and the guy barely knew how to look out for himself, you know? He once tried to microwave an egg to cook it. But he really stepped up. He grew up. Like, can you imagine being eighteen and having to go to parent-teacher meetings when you’d only just left school yourself and trying to teach his kid brother how to shave or talk his sisters through puberty… he’s just so… you know?”

Eddie wasn’t really sure he did know. This Danny person made him think of Steve, serial adopter of anyone even remotely younger than him. Sometimes older than him, if Eddie was to count himself. The kind of person who seemed to make it their life's mission to take care of others. He could see the appeal of Best-Friend-Danny, honestly. Steve probably had better hair though. He always had better hair.

“And Danny’s straight?”

“No.” Julian frowned. “He’s not. And I don’t know if that makes things worse. Because he could choose me. But he never has. Over and over and over again, he hasn’t chosen me. He probably never will. And I need him in my life. So I’ve learned to deal with just friends. It’ll... It'll be good enough.”

“Fuck, that’s heavy. I’m sorry man, sounds like it sucks.”

“It does suck. Sucks dick and balls, actually.”

Eddie allowed himself a little giggle at that but the whole situation had wound itself around his brain. Not for the first time he was forced to remember that there are other people out there, other people like him and other people nothing like him who use music, use sex, use drugs and drink and anything else they can get their hands on just to alter their minds for a few hours. Just to forget and get away from it all. Unfortunately this poor guy seemed stuck in the kind of tragedy poets have been writing about for hundreds of years.

They didn’t share any more words, both dropping off to sleep fairly quickly, lost in their own thoughts.

The next morning they shuffled around each other, lazy and easy now that any post-sex awkwardness had left, grumbling and sore from the show, the various substances they’d ingested, the after party and the sex from the night before.

They took turns in the hotel room's quite frankly obscenely fancy shower.

Julian slowly pulled his clothes back on, wincing whenever he had to bend his back while Eddie made it easy on himself, just throwing on his usual ancient and ratty lounging clothes.

The things Julian had said to him the night before were all but forgotten. Because it wasn't even something that was worth considering in Eddie's mind.

Steve? In love with him?

It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his life. Steve was like some kind of clean cut poster boy for straightness.

Even if he wasn't straight they'd just be downright incompatible in every other sense of the word. He was punctual, a morning person, he exercised for fun, he watched sports, he was a bitch and he was always so put together.

Eddie... Eddie was none of those things.

Maybe he could be a bit of a bitch.

Sometimes.

Plus, even if it was true and that was a big if, Eddie wasn't in love with him back, so like...

Nothing would ever come of it anyway.

Just before Julian left, Eddie beckoned him back over.

The kiss wasn’t romantic, or heated. If anything it was downright platonic, like closing the book on their short story together.

“For luck.” Eddie smiled and patted him lightly on the chest, watching as Julian turned and left the room, his own small smile on his face.

It was nearly a half an hour later and Eddie was really getting into whatever episode of Real Housewives he’d stumbled upon, he wasn't sure, when Steve walked through the door, carrying a large and violently pink strawberry frappuccino with him.

Eddie made greedy, grabby hands at it from his lounged position on the bed. “You’re a saint.” He said, snatching it up.

“I’m aware.” Steve replied with a dry tone, hands on his hips.

Eddie gulped back two bitingly cold mouthfuls. “No, seriously, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me I swear to god." He gulped down another mouthful, ignoring the sharp throb in his teeth. "You gonna watch?” He gestured to the tv. “I think we’re a few episodes behind.”

Steve scoffed. “While I’d love nothing more than to sit on your dirty sex sheets, I have an actual job to do. Y’know, I have to organise your whole damn life-”

“Excuse you, I have an actual job too!”

“Drugs are not an actual job, Eds.”

“Tell that to a pharmacist.”

“Whatever. Drink your disgusting sugar and cream concoction and try not to get into too much trouble today. We're back on the tour bus at 6am sharp!” Steve started slowly backing towards the door, pointing at him. “And do not watch ahead from the last episode we saw together. We’re catching up on it over the weekend.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

Steve’s hands were back on his hips again and Eddie smiled around his straw.

“You’re the bane of my fucking existence, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

Something flashed across Steve’s face, there and gone before it ever settled. A tightening of his mouth, a clench in his jaw, a pinch in his brows, there and gone. Maybe if Julian had never said anything, Eddie wouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if the thought hadn’t been primed he wouldn’t have seen it.

How many times had he not seen it before?

Steve rolled his eyes, as bitchy as ever. “I’ll be back with the car in an hour. Try to look somewhat human by then, please?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him.

Well…

It was probably nothing…

Right?

Part 2 out now! Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

[rinhaler]

holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Ache // Yandere! Ticci Toby x

Fem! Reader {SMUT}

[Hello, this will be the first fic that I post. What I'm going to give you guys beforehand is some trigger warnings before we get on to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback whenever you're done if you feel in the mood.]

TW // Violence, r@pe, and a whole lotta mention of murder as always.

𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ - First P.O.V

Every day, it started like this. Planted in my bed, tangled in my grey sheets, waiting for that one sliver of motivation to get out of my blankets. My room was a mess. Pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, piling up around my dresser, and hanging off of places I tossed them.

I stared over the rest of what I could see while trying to get rid of the bitter taste of soda left on my tongue from last night. The posters I've collected of my favorite bands clung onto the wall for dear life, fading away from how long they had been there. An empty Sprite can stood on my nightstand, left there after my body decided to have its third caffeine crash this week.

It was getting so warm where I was lying that I was starting to overheat, making me shuffle around to stay cold. That wasn't too hard because of how freezing my room was.

When I looked at my window, I noticed it was cracked open. If I didn't shut it soon, it would get worse. But minutes were melting into each other and I didn't want to get up. Why did I love to procrastinate so much? It shouldn't be this hard to move on with my day.

Silence filled every corner of my apartment, leaving me to peacefully rot. Was it selfish of me to be like this? That's what it felt like they were trying to say when I talked to relatives. But that's the reason why I prefer to be shut-in. I never had to hear that about myself. The world outside would remain indifferent. And hopefully, by the time I had to move, I was swallowed into the Earth below.

A sudden vibration of my phone startled me. I mumbled a barrage of curses and reached for it slowly, furrowing my brows and groaning. I could only pray that it wasn't him trying to contact me.

The last time he visited, I no longer felt safe outside. I would check behind me constantly, feeling as if his light brown eyes were glued to my back, and at any moment, he could come back and chop off my limbs until I was a headless torso. Remembering that he existed caused that horrible anxiety to spread goosebumps across my skin. I was shaking as I tried to unlock my phone.

Hundreds of notifications popped up that I had been ignoring, some of them messages from my mom, and the rest were emails. I almost accidentally clicked on one before I found the most recent. "Return library books today," it read. Fuck, I forgot today was the due date for those. Despite not wanting to, I had to get up. I did promise that if I had a reason to, I would.

I peeled myself from the comfort of my bed. My sheets clung to me like glue, trying to pull me back as if it were a bad idea. Fighting against it, I shivered at the sudden change in temperature and pulled down the bottoms of my shorts so they weren't wedged in between my ass.

After not walking for what felt like forever, I took my first steps, a soreness on my left thigh making me place a hand on my dresser for support. I looked down at a bruise from that encounter, biting my lip to distract myself from thinking about it. I need to take my pills or I'll get suicidal. So many things to do. So overwhelmed.

Encouraging myself in my head, I found the strength to go for the door. I opened it and turned down my hallway, going for the bathroom with quick and light steps.

Many pictures of family and portraits were loosely decorated on the wall, a pit in my stomach opened when I stared at them. I lingered on my dad and had to tear myself away from the picture before I felt the need to cry.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flicked on the harsh yellow light and stood before the mirror, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I reached for the medicine cabinet, the hinges squeaking as I rummaged through it. I grabbed my medication and popped the bottle open, tossing out a tiny pill into my palm. I swallowed the bitter capsule and cringed as it slowly went down.

Turning my attention to the sink, I turned on the cold water and brought my mouth to the tap to take a sip. Then I splashed it on my face after I was done, relieved that the pill was no longer there. On the counter, I focused on the facewash I hadn't used in god knows how long. I missed the feeling of my face being clean. At least, I can't forget about it now.

I poured the runny liquid into my hands and rubbed them together, slapping it on my face and rubbing it in circles to get deep in my pores. It foamed up a bit and burned. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I'm supposed to be using this, but it works.

As I was splashing the water on my face again to clean it off, I opened my eyes to a man staring at me in the mirror, causing me to freeze. I could see the glisten of his goggles from here, that blue hood covering his messy hair, but it didn't contain enough around the edges. It was him. The man who attacked me and my dad a couple of days ago.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I reached for something. Grab anything to protect myself, that's all I needed to do. But before I could, the room blurred as I twisted, my hand grasping a razor for a split second.

I was torn away from it. I felt a hard impact on my back as I was slammed against the wall, the air forcing out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. I struggled to breathe, my hands grabbing onto his wrists while they dug into my neck.

He had me pinned against it and struggling to get any sort of noise out. Slowly, I was dragged up upward and lifted off of the ground. I choked, my vision was fading as his glare burned into mine. He's going to kill me. Just like he did to Dad. He's going to get away with it. I pulled my head back against the wall before lunging it forward to collide it with the serial killer's, his hands faltering their hold and dropping me from the force of it.

I collapsed to the floor and sputtered out several coughs, hunched up in a ball and desperately trying to regain the oxygen he took from me. My neck felt numb, the indents of his fingers bruising and stung like a bitch.

He crouched down to me. I closed my eyes and thought he would finish it right there. But when I suddenly felt his lips press against mine, they shot back open. Breathing heavily through my nose, I stared at his shut eyelids. I glanced down at his lashes, feeling his breath as he sighed. He relaxed into me for a split second before pulling away, lowering his voice to a rough whisper to introduce himself, "It's nice to meet you finally, {F/N}. The name's Tobias."

Struggling to get myself sitting up, I made it by resting on the wall and using my hands to keep me there. My chest rapidly went up and down as I watched his every move. He backed away a bit, but not enough to give me leverage. I repeated, "Tobias?" And his eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning my reaction.

"I can also go by Toby. Whatever you prefer. But I gave you my full name because I really like you, [F/N]," he added. I knitted my brows and shook my head, unable to understand what he was saying. He liked me? He just kissed me? What the fuck?

I pushed myself away from him and got back up, running for it and successfully escaping the bathroom. The front door was right in front of me, I barely got to reach for it before I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. No, I almost had it!

Strands of my hair were ripped out as I was yanked backward and thrown onto the couch, falling onto it and yelping in pain. Tears fell from my eyes and I clutched my head, grabbing the part that hurt the most. A headache was coming on and I couldn't help but rock myself to soothe it. I sobbed, "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone..." I twisted myself to let out the rest in the cushions, hearing him approach behind me.

After crying for a bit and nothing was happening to me, I hesitantly lifted myself to take a peek. Toby was sitting next to me, almost as if he was waiting patiently for me to finish. When he saw that I was staring at him, he patted his lap and said, "Here. Rest your pretty head and we can get to talking about this, sweetheart."

I was too scared of him to tell him no. It was the first time I felt pure terror from somebody. Like I would never be able to fight back with him. And I was right. I couldn't. The sad truth was that if my dad had fallen to this man, I'm sure I would live the same fate if I didn't listen. Dragging myself, I cringed while laying my head onto his leg, feeling his hand rest on my head and causing me to flinch. "Sh, sh, I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I told you, I really adore you, [F/N]," he reassured me. A part of me wanted to bite his leg to pieces, but if I went along with this until he fell asleep or left, then I could escape and possibly go to the police.

Deciding to go with it, I pretended to enjoy the warmth and snuggled into him. I wouldn't call it pretending actually, he was pretty warm. Toby hummed and it stayed like this for some time. He kept petting me, brushing my hair out of the way, soothing me from the chase earlier.

Eventually, he got bored of it and nudged me to sit back up. I tilted my head and asked, "What?" His hand went to rest on my lower back, applying pressure around it, pushing me forward until I was easing into sitting on him. A smile crossed his face at the compliance. He seemed intrigued by it.

"I didn't think you would give up this quick. I thought I was going to have to give you a couple more marks for memories," he sounded pleased as both of his arms wrapped around my waist. They were much bigger than mine, with a couple of veins etched up around them like vines, and faded scars littering everywhere on his skin. He had been doing this for years by the looks of it. There was no way in hell I was going to escape, huh?

Placing another kiss on my cheek, soft and gentle, his eyelashes brushed against me before he pulled away to speak again, "Do you know what I've been picturing every night to the thought of you, [F/N]?" His hands dropped lower to skim over my ass, lightly gripping, and dragging me toward him. My breath hitched. I didn't say a word.

Toby answered for me, "I've been picturing taking these off..." His fingers gripped around the waistband of my shorts and teased me about taking them off by pushing them down lightly. Continuing that, he said, "Have you to myself for a couple of hours..."

There were so many reasons why I should say no to him and why I shouldn't allow him to touch me like this. For one, he killed my father. He broke into my house and he was physically violent to me. I felt disgusting that he had gotten to this level too. But, I didn't stop him. I didn't say no and I didn't deny it. I looked into this killer's eyes and I leaned onto his chest, giving into what he wanted

When we kissed for the second time, I noticed how chapped his lips were, and opened my mouth a little to swipe my tongue across his bottom one. Toby tensed up. And without warning, I felt his tongue use the opportunity to have an exchange with mine. I gasped through my nose, the escalation getting worse and worse. A blush began to spread across my face.

He lifted me off of his lap to flip me onto the couch, putting both of his palms by either side of my head. I was back to being pinned underneath him. I don't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me, I was sick for this. I was sick... because I enjoyed this.

His sweater and shirt fell to the floor as we fought each other with kisses. His teeth bit into my lower lip and pulled it back while I moved to unbuckle his belt. I was giving in to this. I was really fucking the guy that took away everybody I loved in my life.

Barely in any clothes, we both took a moment to stare at each other, oddly feeling like he was admiring me from how he looked up and down my body. Toby took his time, pressing small pecks across my chest up to my neck, snaking his arms around to my back. He unclipped my bra and slipped it off of me. I wanted to cover myself, but I no longer wanted to move. I didn't have any motivation. There was nothing left to fight for.

The gloves and bandages around his fingers felt weird against my skin especially when he played with my chest. He squeezed one, bit the other, and once he heard a moan slip out of me, he stopped to let me process. He complimented me, his voice a bit raspy like he was fighting the urge to do something to me already, "You look even better so close like this, with how foggy those windows would get. It would make me want to break them and threaten you then and there."

I bit the inside of my cheek and he got closer, hooking onto my panties and pulling them down as a smirk spread on his face. My lack of response didn't concern him. He kept going despite that, throwing the thin fabric somewhere in the room before he looked up at me. His hair was in his face and the eyebags around his eyes told me he was more than dangerous. How many times has he done this?

Toby muttered seriously, breaking me out of the moment, "Who do you belong to?" I blankly gazed at him, watching as he stood up and slowly inched his boxers down. I can't speak. I can't tell him that. More scars appeared, his v-line making my eyes linger, and I got distracted. His dick was let out before I could respond.

My eyes widened and I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but he kept them apart as soon as they moved, holding both of my knees up to my shoulders. I was breathing super fast, my heart raced, and I was feeling the ache in between both of my legs. It was nothing compared to when he positioned himself and pushed the tip inside.

Digging my nails into his arms, I cried out in pain and threw my head back, looking up at his satisfied face. Toby groaned, a laugh following behind it, "You don't have to answer. I'll do it for you." He rammed most of what he could, grabbing both of my thighs so tightly that it was guaranteed to be bruised. I screamed out. He was too rough and too much for me to take like this. It hurt. It fucking ached. I was being drilled into the cushions.

Trying to handle it was impossible. He made it impossible for me. His hips connected as he went deeper, loud slaps coming from it, bouncing off and echoing. I didn't want to think about the neighbors hearing me lose my dignity like this. I didn't want to think about the fact my dad could be witnessing this. But it was starting to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and after that, I didn't care anymore.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him closer and savoring his dick carving into the parts I didn't know were there. Moaning, swearing, and muttering filled the room. We were getting lost in the bliss and saying whatever was on the mind. Or I was. His name left me a couple of times and so did encouragement, "More.. More, please, Toby!"

Flipping around again when he got a little tired, I gyrated my hips and sat on his lap so I could bounce, sliding up and down until I could feel my walls beginning to squeeze. I was close and this position wasn't helping. I held my breath and Toby took notice, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Let it out for me, baby. Don't be shy," he cooed, sweat dripping down his forehead like he was holding back his own. I bit the inside of my cheek and a desperate moan came out, "Fuuuuuck, cummm with! Please!"

He didn't listen to me and lifted me off of the couch with him, holding me up in the air while guiding me down onto his shaft. I went limp and drool fell down the side of my chin as I buried myself into the crook of his neck, biting it a little to vent out the overwhelming pleasure. Toby didn't let up until a couple of more minutes of fucking me passed and I was fucked out enough that my legs were shaking.

When he was about to cum himself, he set me back down, rushing up to my face to give me a facial. My mouth was open from panting and I caught a bit on my tongue, swallowing it when we were back to locking eyes. The rest landed on my nose, cheeks, and lips. He let out a loud groan as he unwinded, pulling away to see the display once he was done.

I lay there. Used. I lay there for him to stare at. Until he walked away for cleaning supplies. To think about what I was doing. To come back down and face the new reality I was in. I was his now and he was mine. And there was nothing I could do about it.

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, food mention, guns, somewhat vague description of a robbery, blood

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -> BEFORE (partially written, wc: 1.0k)

"Welcome to my childhood house," you say, opening the creaky door, Minho following you through. "It's not that impressive."

With an awkward laugh, you sling your bag over a chair in the dining room to the left, kicking your shoes off in the process. There isn't much to say about where you grew up, the modest little house speaking for itself. Family photos littered the fireplace mantle in the living room, but aside from that, there wasn't much personality in shared areas. No one was home much now since you and your sister had moved out and your mother works long hours.

"Can I see your room?"

You swing around to see Minho leaning against the doorway with his head titled toward you. The action sends a small shiver down your back.

"No!" You blurt, and his eyes widen. "A girl's room is very personal."

He stares at you for a few moments before breaking into laughter. "Did you just quote 10 Things I Hate About You to me?"

"...I might have," you giggle, surprised he got your reference.

"You're wondering how I knew that, aren't you?" The way your eyebrows raise says it all. "How many times did you watch that movie again...?"

"It's amazing," you roll your eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. "You never stuck around to watch the whole thing, so I didn't think you'd know, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Minho seems genuinely confused, standing straight. "I did- ah, right, you fell asleep that time. You snore, by the way."

This makes you blush. "Everyone does."

"I'm messing with you," he sighs.

Rolling your eyes again, you walk past him and move down the hallway toward your childhood bedroom. When you open the door, you're greeted by the soft mint walls and fuzzy white rug surrounding your bed. You sit on the bed, plush blankets shifting. Minho slowly enters, walking around slowly, and suddenly you feel exposed. All of your silly phases and old hobbies out for him to see, past art awards displayed on your desk in the corner and a pile of dirty laundry in another. He stops on the other side of your bed, fingers finding the frame of your family photo, still lying face down on your nightstand, and your heart hurts.

"Don't," you whisper, not ready to see it again. Immediately, Minho pulls his hand away and looks over to where you're now sitting against the headboard, legs tucked into your body.

"What is it?" Minho nods to the frame. When you don't answer, he climbs onto your bed and pokes your side, making you jolt. "Earth to Y/n. What's the photo?"

"Just a family one," you shrug, and he's still trying to catch your eyes. "Before."

"Before what?" He questions, and you finally lock eyes with him.

"...before I got him killed?"

His eyebrows furrow at this, clearly confused. You don't object this time when he reaches over and flips the frame up. Everyone is smiling and happy, two little girls standing with their parents at some kind of theme park. You couldn't have been more than twelve when it was taken, one of the last family vacations you took.

"What happened?" Minho asks, voice low, turning his whole body to face you with the photo still in his lap.

"It was my birthday," you start slow, willing yourself not to cry. "I had just turned fifteen and I didn't get this one album I really wanted. My dad could tell I was upset and said it wasn't in stock when he went to order it, but that he could go now and check if the store had it. We could make a day out of it, and we did.

"The mall wasn't super busy that day, so we got food first. In the actual store, he asked me to go browse as he found the album and paid since he wanted the illusion of surprise still." You sniff, taking the photo in your hands. "So I left to wait outside instead. This guy bumped into me on the way out and I made some stupid comment about watching where he was going," your voice wavers. "When I turned around, I saw he had a gun. Next thing I knew, I was watching him threaten the cashier and my dad."

You pause, taking a deep breath. Minho hasn't said anything, patiently waiting for you to either finish the story or announce you were done, you didn't want to say more. But you did. This is the first time you've opened up to someone about this, not including Hyunjin or NingNing.

"I panicked and ran to my dad, but that must have freaked the guy out because he tried to attack me, but my dad jumped out in front of me and got hit instead." You look up at Minho with damp eyes, voice barely above a whisper. "I still remember the feeling of his blood seeping into my clothes. I still remember screaming, begging him to move. He bled out a lot by the time the ambulance got there."

"Thank you for telling me," Minho says when you're quiet again.

"If I hadn't..." you shake your head. "If I hadn't wanted that stupid album, he'd still be here."

"Don't do that," Minho grabs your face gently by your chin, forcing you to look at him again. "Don't blame yourself for something you couldn't have possibly predicted would happen. Y/n, that's not your fault. This is what you've been blaming yourself for?"

You nod. "If I wasn't being so stupid-"

"You were fifteen, Y/n."

And you can't hold it in anymore, sobbing and hiccupping into his shirt for the second time that evening. You stay like this for a while, and you don't know when you shifted into a lying down position, wrapping an arm across his stomach with a leg wrapped around one of his. His hand is in your hair, the other tracing lines up and down your exposed arm. Falling asleep is easy and unexpected, and when you wake up, he's been replaced with a large, purple cow plushie that was previously sitting in the corner of your room. There's a text from him on your phone waiting for you when you're about to ask where he is.

notes -> sooo....... y/n is starting to open up more to minho ! 😁 also, i will be closing the taglist at ch 25!

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @stayatinykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @catchingskzzzs @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[mintkookiess]

If Only.

Worst mistake to write angst while listening to a sad playlist oh my god I kid you not, I started ugly sobbing during the climax that I needed a quick break before continuing. Don't mind me, just gonna sulk in a corner for a while.

Love,

Mint

Summary: Hanahaki disease. That’s all I’m placing here.

Tags: Miles Morales x reader, Hanahaki disease, angst (no happy ending again), death, don't forget your tissues, not proofread, maybe I'll do it later

Warnings: Major character death, mentions of blood

Your eyes pried open on another normal, already dragging, Tuesday morning. The alarm clock on your bedside table wasn’t even loud enough to wake you, seeing as how you slept through it. You carefully laid to your side, as the all-too-familiar cough climbed up your throat. This went on for a minute until you see a small pile of petals on the floor. 

“Shit…” You muttered to yourself, groggily grabbing the glass of water that you’d already prepared the previous night like always. This was the normal morning routine for you.

Wake up. Cough those stupidly red petals. Get through the day. Cough even more petals. Go home. Sleep. Repeat.

On this particular morning, however, it was quite different because you could hear the voice of your best friend outside your dorm.

“Hey, you awake yet?” Miles asked, knocking softly to make sure he doesn’t wake you if you were still asleep. You always thought that was kind of him. 

You forced yourself up and out of your bed, shoving back the blankets then dragged your feet to open the door. 

“I’m awake. Why are you here? Thought you’d be waiting at the school entrance like usual.” You said huskily, still with that morning voice. Your best friend shook his head, “I kinda woke up a little early today so I thought I’d come to pick you up from your place instead.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. 

He was just too good for you.

“Fine. Let me get changed at least.” You chuckled, before closing the door in his face. You laid your back against it, sliding down to the floor as you felt that familiar ache in your chest.

In just a few seconds, you started hacking once more right then and there.  

Ah, was it because I wasn’t expecting him here this morning?

“H-Hey, you good?” You hear Miles ask from the other side, making you scramble up. “I’m fine Miles just um… choked on my saliva.” You lied. Your hands quickly grab the tiny broom and pan you kept and started sweeping up all the red petals that decorated your floor. 

You then threw every single last one in your already overflowing bin. I’d have to clear that out before he sees it.

You quickly changed into some more decent clothes before grabbing your bag and heading out to see Miles laying against the opposite wall of the door, he gave you a small smile and stood up. “Ready?” 

You nodded in response, making sure to lock your door before you both head down. 

“Oh right, Gwen is actually coming with us to class today if that’s okay,” Miles said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his hair. 

You made it like your life’s mission to ignore Gwen at all costs. It was entirely selfish, but it wasn’t like it really did you any favors with your… disease. Miles had confronted you about this a couple of times, but you just came up with lie after lie. You didn’t want to, because you can’t exactly tell him the true reason. 

Of course, your best friend knew you were lying, but he just didn’t want to pry because it might make you uncomfortable. And you were thankful for that. Until now. 

“Miles—”

“I know I know I just… It was a last-minute thing.” Miles said, trying to reason with you, “It’ll be just this once I swear. I know you’re not exactly a fan of her but, can’t you still try? I mean maybe if you got to know her better—“

“Fine.” You sighed, finally agreeing. 

Doctor Sanchez’s words suddenly echoed in your head like a siren that was loudly warning you. 

“Stop feeding yourself even more hurt. Ignore, lie, and do anything you can to stop. It’ll slow it down, but not much.”

Oh, how you knew. This was practically engraved into your mind, heart, body, and soul. You said this to yourself so many times like an oath. Avoid the hurt. 

But you can’t keep being a bad friend to Miles any more than you already have. 

The both of you continued to walk to the lobby of your school in complete silence. Miles could only bite his lip in nervousness, though he just wanted to ask why you happened to dislike Gwen so much, he just didn’t want to make you mad. His grip on his backpack’s straps only tightens at the thought. 

What is really going on with you? He thought to himself. 

Your eyes stared straight forward as you both reached your destination. It wasn’t long until it spotted the familiar blonde girl from a distance.

Gwen gave a light wave to the two of you as she walked toward where you both were standing. 

“Hey Gwen, what’s up?” Miles greeted, his face lighting up in an instant like some Christmas tree in New York. 

You forced yourself to look away but still got a glimpse of it. 

Why did I agree to this?

Your chest tightened, and you instinctively covered your mouth with a hand. No please, not here. Not right now.

“Um hey…” Gwen cautiously greeted you. She tried to give you a friendly smile to which you only nodded.

Miles could already sense the growing tension and suddenly clapped his hands together. “So, physics class? We gotta bounce or we’d all be marked late.” 

“Yeah, we should go.” You mumbled, walking past them while still covering your mouth as if it would stop the cough that was threatening to let out. 

Gwen and Miles looked at each other worriedly but silently followed behind you. 

You could hear them talk in hushed voices behind you, but your entire focus was on trying to not cough in the school hallways. 

The Hanahaki disease isn’t exactly a secret. Everyone knows what it is. And you’d rather burn in hell than have people find out. Especially him and her.

Your other hand clutched your chest as you tried to walk faster because you wanted to keep a safe distance between you and the other two as much as possible before you practically start vomiting those red petals on the school floors. 

“Is… she okay?” Gwen whispered to Miles with clear concern. She knew you didn’t exactly like her, she wasn’t an idiot. Gwen believes that it’s because she suddenly entered your two-man friend group without warning when in reality, it was so much more than that. 

“Sorry about her…” Miles sighed, his head hung low and a frown decorated his lips. You were his absolute best friend, and to see you being like this with Gwen makes him ache. If only, he could know what was wrong, but he also wanted to respect your space. It has him torn between two cautious choices that could end up in the worst way possible. He just didn’t know how deep the consequences would be. 

Other than the different morning you had, it was just like any other day. You were able to stop yourself from coughing for the most part, but if you couldn’t take it you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom, letting out a few petals in the toilet and flushing them away. 

During lunchtime, it was usually just you and Miles at the cafeteria, but Gwen decided to tag along once again. So you had the utmost pleasure to see the two joke about and discuss things that you never understood because you weren’t a Spider person like them.

You watched as Miles laughed and smiled at everything she said, and all you could do was mindlessly stab your food in hopes of drowning out and forgetting what you're currently witnessing. However, you immediately started coughing. Your hands instantly flew to your mouth to keep the petals in your mouth. 

You gave Miles a panicked look before running out the cafeteria and into the bathroom, immediately vomiting all the petals that had accumulated inside your mouth, and for the rest of lunch, you were stuck there, filling up the toilet with the petals that were such an eye sore to you as hot tears flowed down from your eyes.

Miles had tried to bring it up during the succeeding classes, only for you to turn him down every single time. He finally gave up, but was still worried because he sensed something different about you today. 

Your doctor did prescribe you some suppressants for the disease, but you refused it time and time again. Taking those suppressants would make you slowly lose grip on your feelings for Miles. 

As much as it hurt you, you didn’t want that. 

To hell with those fucking petals, who cares if it’s taking your life little by little every day?  Your love for him was too great, too good of a feeling. It was worth it. 

It’ll be worth it. 

When you asked your doctor how much more time you have left, they didn’t give a direct answer but you knew. You already knew that it wasn’t long. Few months give or take. Maybe even shorter than that.

Once classes were done, you gave Miles your usual goodbye hug before heading out of campus to the hospital for your daily check-up for the Hanahaki disease. 

Your doctor did the usual tests, examining a petal of yours, conducting blood tests, scans, etc. 

After an hour, she called you back into her office for the results. You were halfway into taking your seat as she already shoots the question that you’d been dreading to be asked. 

“Have you been taking your suppressants?” 

In truth, you didn’t tell her that the pills were just laying on the floor somewhere in your dorm. You weren’t going to be lectured by your doctor. 

“Yes.” You lied, eyes looking everywhere in her office but her. Your eyes focused on this particular vase, where a single flower laid there. It was the same shade of red as yours, making you chuckle.

Before your doctor could start telling you about how important commitment was to the treatment, you start wheezing. 

But this time, it felt different. 

Your lungs felt like they ran out of air, your throat was like it had been clogged and you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes widened as you took sharp inhales, but for some reason, you couldn’t exhale at all. You fell off your chair and into the floor, gripping your throat, nails digging to scratch your skin from the excruciating pain. 

Doctor Sanchez was quick to get down to you, rubbing your back as her face filled with worry. “It’s at its final stage, you have to tell him—“

“No!” You yelled, surprised that you were even able to utter a single word. Shortly after that however, you were back to heaving. Your hand was now in a fist, punching your chest in an attempt to get out whatever it was that was in your lungs. 

Your mind started to fog up, and your vision was slowly going black until you saw it. 

The fully formed flowers on the ground. 

There were no petals, this time they were fully bloomed roses. 

They were so pretty that it was almost laughable. Something beautiful was stemming from your despair and suffering. At least there was one thing good happening from your godforsaken disease. 

Miles, on the other hand, barged into your dorm to bring the textbooks he borrowed from you, or at least that’s what his excuse was gonna be to you. It was your number one rule that he shouldn’t just come into your room when you were gone, but he could sense something off with you today. Much more than usual. And he was determined to find out.

He had an extra key for emergencies, so he entered without any problems. He took in your room, setting down the textbooks on your desk as he took a seat by the edge of your bed. 

She’s not here. He thought to himself, sighing. 

As his brown eyes roamed the different bits and bobs around your dorm, he suddenly spotted something behind your desk. Miles squinted his eyes, wondering what it was. “Is that… a petal?” He wondered out loud. He crept up to it, crawling under your desk to grab the petal. “What the…” His fingers examined it carefully until he spotted something from the corner of his eye. There were more. 

A lot more.

His eyes slowly widened at the bin of red petals. It was so full that the petals had dissipated around it on the floor. Miles’ eyebrows scrunched up together, wondering where all these could be from until… it dawned on him. 

“Hanahaki? But… but how I…” He stuttered. He pulled the bin towards him with shaking hands, inspecting the petals that had a rich shade of red. Almost similar to that of his Spiderman suit. 

She… She had this all along and hid it from me I…

He spots another item, it was a pill bottle. Except its contents were scattered, and the bottle itself was cracked as if it was thrown against the wall and fell behind your desk. 

Miles picked it up, dreading to see what it was. He slowly turned it around to see the words “Hanahaki suppressants - Y/n L/n 30 pills 150 mg” written in big bold letters that stared back at him.

He drops it out of shock, chest heaving and breaths coming in quickly. 

He was confused, so confused about everything. Why would you hide such a thing from him…? 

Doctor Sanchez called for emergency assistance, she grabbed the intercom in a panic. “Code blue! I repeat code blue! Medical assistance to room 1304 now! Code blue!” 

In a matter of seconds, doctors and nurses have already carried your body to a hospital bed, as roses continuously shook out of your mouth.

Your entire body was flaring up and all you could do was scratch your neck so hard that it almost draws blood. Your nose and ears have started to bleed out, and it was as if your skull was being cut open and stabbed repeatedly.

You couldn’t even form words as the nurses continued to push you into room 1304 for emergency treatment. The people at the hospital looked over in pity and nervousness as they watched the girl with the Hanahaki disease being pushed across the hallway as roses start to flood after her bed like a trail. 

Even if it felt like the pain was eating your entire body alive, all you could think of was him. 

Please, I need to see him. Even for just one more second, please.

But Miles doesn’t even know anything about this, and it just increases your already large amount of regret. 

I should’ve told him. Even though I know he doesn’t like me back, I should’ve told him. 

He’s my best friend. And I can't even say goodbye.

But maybe this was for the best. I wouldn't want him to see me in such a pathetic state.

Miles was quick to suit up, flinging himself out of your window in a matter of miliseconds. He didn’t know where to find you, and all he could do was rack his brain on the places that you could be in. As he continuously swung around the city, tears formed in his eyes behind his mask.

He was angry. So angry at himself for not noticing. Furious at the fact that he already knew something has been off with you for the past months, but he didn’t try hard enough to know what it was. He was mad because he just let you suffer alone. 

Some friend I am. He thought on repeat. 

He tried to use his senses to see if he could pinpoint your location, running and swinging between endless crowds and roads, because something felt terribly wrong. 

Miles didn’t know what exactly it was, but he knew. 

He had to hurry.

“Time of death… 5:47 pm.” Your doctor read from the monitor in a monotone voice. She wrote down the information with trembling hands. Her eyes crept up to see you on the hospital bed, frozen and still.

The static sound of the heart monitor was so deafening and seemed louder than it normally was. There was a heavy silence in the hospital’s emergency area as everyone present stood still. 

Another poor youthful soul had been taken by such a cruel disease.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and there stood Miles who was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. 

His brown eyes spotted you and it was as if time had stopped running, as if the world around him disappeared just like that. 

Miles slowly took in the sight before him, your doctor who stood by the edge of your bed with a deep frown, you who was laying still, eyes closed. He also tried to process the flowers that filled up the entire floor of the room. These were roses, but he knew their petals. 

“I believe you are him?” Doctor Sanchez asked with a poor attempt at a professional tone. Miles’ mouth was still agape in shock, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing as he slowly looked at her. “Wh-What?” The doctor sighed, hugging her clipboard to her chest. “You’re her unrequited love, yes? You’re Miles Morales?”

The poor boy couldn’t muster a single word right now, so all he could do was slightly nod at her. “Time of death was 5:47, the cause is… Hanahaki.” She reported with an aching heart as she sees Miles’ expression. 

“I… I never knew until I saw the…” Miles couldn’t even bring himself to say it, that maybe if he didn’t then all of this wouldn’t be true. He took slow steps towards you, each one being heavier than the last as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

It felt as if his heart stopped beating, and his body no longer functioned as he stared down at you. His quivering fingers tried to grab your hand, only to find that it was cold… Too cold…

Right at that second, tears had already started to stream down his cheeks silently. Miles bit his lip hard as he started to harden his grip on your hand. He placed it between both his hands and he rubbed violently.

Maybe if he did so, he’d be able to bring back some warmth into your body. Maybe he’d feel that familiar tingling sensation that he always felt when both your hands would touch. He was silently praying that it was a prank, that he’d feel your fingers wrap around his, and that you’d tell him you were fine. 

But it never came. 

Your chest wasn’t rising up and down, there seemed to be no more color in your face, no more life. Your lips have turned a faint blue as dried blood surrounded your nose and ears. 

He refused to think of what this meant. He wasn’t going to believe it. He… He just can’t. 

“But I… I love her too.” Miles hiccuped between tears. He felt his legs give out, making him fall to his knees but the flowers had cushioned him from hitting the floor. Even in this state, you manage to keep him from feeling pain.

Doctor Sanchez’s breath hitched in her throat and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “She thought you liked someone else. She didn’t want you to worry so she hid it I… I’ve tried to tell her that she should confess, to tell you how she felt but she… she was dead set on thinking that… she was never enough for you.” After one last breath, she walked towards the door. “I’ll… give you some privacy.”

Once the door closed behind him, Miles weakly stood up and that’s when it started. He let out the most painful cry so loud that everyone outside the room could hear. 

His hands gripped his hair, pulling at it vigorously as he continued to bawl his heart out in agony. 

The truth was, he loves you more than anyone in this entire world. He loves you with every fucking fiber of his being, with every cell in his body. All of it was yours, every heartbeat of his was dedicated to you. You were a major part of why he wanted to keep being Spiderman, so he could protect you. 

So he could shield you away from any harm or danger. 

And yet, he still couldn’t save you. 

He started to feel suffocated as he punched the floor with his fists, almost cracking it in the process. 

He was so goddamn furious at himself. 

He felt like the biggest fucking coward in the entire universe. 

If only, if only he had mustered even the slightest of courage to tell you of how he felt, then this wouldn't have happened. You'd still be alive. 

Miles was now wailing in anger and pain that he couldn’t even begin to describe. 

The realization has finally started to kick in. 

He had lost you. 

You suffered alone because you thought your love for him was unrequited and would never have been returned. 

You didn’t believe in the possibility. But oh how wrong you were.

You didn't see the passion, love, and admiration in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You failed to notice the little things he did for you, like remembering your favorite things, or bringing you to your favorite places.

How he would pluck flowers from the school garden and gave it to you, or maybe even the times where he'd let you copy his answers on a test.

You just thought he was such a good friend.

If only… If only the both of you have tried a bit harder. Maybe then, it didn’t have to end this way.

Fin.

More of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

[blue-slxt]

Kinkmas 3

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: I think this one may be one of my favorites this time around. Stockings feel like a very Jake thing.

Kinkmas Masterlist

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Oral (F Receiving), Creampie, Age Gap (Reader is 25, Jake is 38)

Stupid. How could you have let it get this bad? You know you’ve been busy and preoccupied with the various projects you’ve been working on around the lab lately, but you didn’t realize how badly distracted you’ve been until you had to get dressed this morning. Rummaging through your dresser for underwear only to find that you had no more clean pairs. All of them tossed lazily into your growing laundry pile in the corner. 

You needed something and somehow, the only thing you managed to find was a pair of black stockings tucked away deep in your sock drawer. You figured having something to cover you was better than nothing, but you’re starting to have some second thoughts. Somehow, wearing them without anything else feels…erotic. Despite being completely covered by your skirt, you still feel as if everyone knows. But that’s just your own paranoia. At least, you hope it is. 

To make matters even worse, Jake is here today. Something about providing samples for the lab. When you walk through the doors and see him, it’s like there’s suddenly fire behind your cheeks. You can’t help but remember the last time he came by the lab and you ended up wearing your knees as earmuffs.

The second his eyes are on you, you can feel the tension radiating off of him. His tail flicks excitedly behind him and his ears swivel back and forth as he eyes you up and down. You immediately know that he’s plotting a way to get you alone as soon as possible. 

He quickly excuses himself from the conversation he was in to make his way over to you at your desk. There are still a lot of eyes around so he has to play this as casual as he possibly can. 

“Hey kid, Kiri said to ask you for some book that you were gonna let her borrow.” He peers down at you with expectant eyes and it’s nearly impossible to clench your thighs any tighter together. Not that it matters. You can tell from the way his nose twitches that he can still smell the arousal soaking through the thin mesh fabric of your stockings. 

“Right, it’s on my bookshelf”, you clear your throat hoping to clear the lump that seems to have formed there. Standing from your spot, you quickly adjust your skirt back down and lead him out of the lab and down the corridor. You pass people here and there and try not to look them in the eye meanwhile Jake is all smiles with everyone. 

When you finally make it to your room, you watch from the corner of your eye how Jake has to bend down to fit through the door frame. The sheer size of him makes a nervous excitement settle in your stomach knowing what was coming. 

The second the door slides closed behind him, Jake is immediately on you and bending you over on your bed. 

“Ah! J-Jake!” but before you can get another word out, he’s flipped your skirt up, dropped to his knees behind you, and buried his face into your cunt through the barely-there fabric. An embarrassing whimper leaves your lips when he licks long stripes up the length of your pussy.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” he says using his hands on your ass to grip and spread your cheeks while he admires the view. 

“I need these out of my way now.”

“W-wait, what are you–” you’re cut off by the sound of fabric ripping and the sensation of air against your slick covered cunt. 

“Jake!” “I’ll get you new ones later” he quips back smacking a hand across your ass. He takes a moment to admire the way that the soft flesh of your ass and thighs spills out between the tears in the stockings. You can feel the thick tip of his dick drag itself through your slick before he slowly starts to push into you. A nearly silent scream jumps from your mouth at the sheer stretch. Jake groans behind you feeling the way your gummy walls hug around him tight with just the right amount of give. A strong hand rests on your lower back keeping you held in place for him to drag his hips back and let you feel every inch of him as he carves out the perfect spot for himself inside you.

“Mmf! Jake…ah!”

His ears twitch at the sound of his name on your lips in ecstasy. He can’t hold himself back from starting to rut into you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the silence in your room and every thrust pushes a new sound from your mouth. 

“Don’t be too loud, baby girl. Imagine what they’d say if they knew you were here all spread open for me, hm?” The smirk on his face is evident knowing fully well that it was near impossible for you to keep quiet right now. 

He leans more of his weight onto you, anchoring you to the mattress. You struggle to find your footing as the stockings keep making you slip across the smooth surface of your floor. 

From this new angle, he hits the spot that makes your back arch and your hips push back onto him further.

“Ah! J-Jake, I’m gonna cum!” 

A growl rumbles in his chest over you. His strokes get stronger trying to coax your release out of you. After just a few more perfectly placed thrusts, your orgasm rips through you causing your body to convulse and eventually collapse. Jake revels in the sight of your eyes rolling and the thin string of drool falling from your lips as he continues fucking you through your release. 

He mumbles curses under his breath finally spilling his load deep inside you. Jake does his best to not out his full weight on you as he catches his breath and slides out of you. Your legs give out and his seed slowly flows back out of you and onto the floor. 

He gently taps your thigh, “You alright there, kid?” 

You weakly give him a thumbs up signaling that you were indeed more than alright. He chuckles lowly while helping you get back onto the bed. “You should wear these more often, y’know.”

Taglist: @minnory @sussybaka10 @celess0 @funkyflamingo01 @itchaboi-itchyboy @loaksulluyswife @myloveforyouisforever @neteyams-wh0re @the-mourning-moon @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @zafrinaxyz @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna @xylianasblog @hotdsworld @teyamsatan @sulieykte @neteyamsoare @neteyamswillow @cryinginthemoonpool @plooto @eywaite @quaritchsluts @jakexneytiri @luvv4j4ybe11 @eywascall

[elliesgoodgirl]

Tying you to me

(Ellie Williams/Reader)

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——————————————————————————

On a cold November morning you wake up tired and shivering, but the most enticing sight draws you back into bed ; your girlfriend soundly asleep.

Grateful to spend a few moments hidden away from the rest of the world with each other, you and Ellie bask in each others presence.

(I would lay down my life for this woman and she doesn’t get enough soft things written for her)

——————————————————————————

The room was gray, early morning light just barely peeking through the curtains covering the frosted windows. You looked around, taking in the lowly lit room of your girlfriend.

The pile of dirty clothes shoved in the corner, the worn leather couch that seemed to have both of your body imprints perfectly worn into it. Countless posters sloppily hung on the walls, of bands and movies you’d never even seen or heard of, but Ellie swears they’re good. How she could even possibly know is beyond your comprehension.

It’s surprising you’re up this early, several hours before the town of Jackson would even be waking up. After a grueling patrol shift such as your last, it was typical for you to sleep into the late hours of the day. A chill shot through your body, goosebumps pebbling on the exposed skin of your legs.

Your sleep shorts riding up every so slightly, exposing the scars and bruises that had formed over the past few years from many patrol shifts.

A few beams of light come in from above the bed, catching your attention away from the small details of the garage turned apartment. Shining directly onto the face of Ellie, who slept peacefully next to you. One arm outstretched ever so slightly, reaching towards where your upper half one laid down. You could just barely see the ink lines of her tattoo licking up her forearm.

Her eyes closed, eyelashes resting peacefully on her freckled cheeks. Brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape. You could see a small patch of drool on her pillow, usually a sign that she was in deep slumber. The sunbeam catching in her auburn hair, highlighting the many shades of red and brown.

She had fallen asleep with her hair tied half up, normally you scolded her for it as it wasn’t good for her hair, but now you found it endearing. Clearly too exhausted from patrol to change, she slept in nothing but her boxers and the T-shirt from the day prior. A small laugh escapes your mouth as you continue to admire her.

She really was something. All freckles and blushed cheeks. You reach down to brush a strand of hair that was tickling its way into her mouth out of the way, exposing the scar that cut through her eyebrow. You let your hand linger for a moment, knuckles resting against her warm cheek. Ellie gives a content sigh. With how calm she looks now, you’d never be able to guess that she spent half the night kicking you in the side and taking all the blankets.

Another blast of cold air sends a shiver through you. You tear your eyes away from Ellie in an attempt to find where the breeze is coming from. The window near the door catches your eye as the curtains attached blow in the wind.

As carefully as you can, you get up from the bed, not wanting to wake Ellie up. The floor is cold on your bare feet as you tiptoe your way over, being careful to not trip over your backpacks and shoes that are lazily strewn across the room

Finally, you make it to the window and are able to shut it, quietly of course. You breathe a sigh of relief as you feel the draft cut off. The creak of the bed catches your attention,

“Why’d you shut the window?” Ellie’s tired voice interrupts the silence. It’s raspy, coated in sleep.

You turn, greeted to the sight of Ellie sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was evident that she had been sleeping on the same side for a while, her short hair sticking up wildly while the opposite sat semi neatly. Her lips turned slightly downward in a pout.

“I was cold.. it woke me up” you shrug slightly, running your hands over your arms.

Ellie chuckles slightly, green eyes meeting yours.

“Well then come back to bed, I’ll keep you warm” she smiles, laying back down and opening her arms up for you.

“Oh my hero!” You smile back at her, almost skipping back towards her bed.

You lay down, resting comfortably pressed into Ellie’s chest, her arms wrapped around you. She presses a kiss to your forehead as you settle in.

“Sleep good?” She asks while smoothing your hair away from your face. You shrug,

“It was a typical post patrol sleep, feel like I could use at least ten more hours”

Ellie snorts, “man do I feel that one”

“You looked pretty comfy though”, you say as you lightly trace the lines of her tattooed forearm that’s wrapped around you.

“Oh I was, before I was abandoned in my own bed!”, she’s easily the most dramatic girl you’ve ever met.

“-Even saw the drool you left on your pillow”

You hear Ellie scoff, loudly.

“I do not drool!” She throws her arms up defensively.

“Yes you do!”

“No I don’t!”

You both know you’re right, Ellie is just stubborn and thinks it’s funny to rile you up about the little things.

“For your information, I sleep like an angel”

Ellie can’t keep a straight face as she says this, she knows it a blatant lie. She giggles slightly, awaiting your response.

You can only roll your eyes. She does not sleep like an angel. She sleeps like a tornado with legs and makes you impossibly hot at night. But you’d have it no other way.

The way she mumbles in her sleep, never being able to decipher the nonsense that tumbles out her lips. The way she pulls you closer, even when in deep sleep. She was comfort in its truest form.

You look at her briefly, not having a response for her. Her features become more clear as the rising sun pushes its way past the window above the bed. She searches your face, clearly taking in your features.

“What’s on your mind?” You wonder out loud.

Ellie gives you a crooked smile as one of her hands finds your face. She gently brushes her fingers across your cheek, trailing over a healing cut from a previous patrol shift.

“Nothing..” she mumbles, eyes flicking down to your lips briefly.

“Tell me!” You lean back a little, putting some distance between the two of you.

“Really it’s nothing!”

“Ellie!!”

“….can’t we just go back to bed?”

She dodges the question, a slight blush creeping its way onto her cheeks and ears. You give her an annoyed look.

“Alright alright..” she starts, giving a sigh,

“I was just thinking about…” she trails off again, eyes looking back at your lips.

She purses hers together for a moment, the scar on her lip being highlighted as she does so. She’s thinking about something again, you can see the gears in her head turning.

“Fine, fine, don’t tell m-“

Ellie cuts you off. Pressing her lips to yours. It’s by no means the first time she’s kissed you, but it’s sweet. Tender and loving, like a first kiss between children. Her lips are chapped and slightly salty. Most likely from sweating during the night. And despite both of those things, you sigh into her. Your fingers find her nape and play with the slightly tangled pieces of hair that lay there.

Ellie helps you shift so you’re straddling on top of her as the kiss deepens. Both of you rocking in unison. Your hands committing each others bodies to memory. Ellie’s hands finds your hips and she squeezes. Eventually while moving away from her to get some air, your hands find her face.

You trace over the freckles on her face as you memorize her features for the millionth time. You play with her bottom lip for a moment before you speak.

“I guess we can go back to bed now”, a smile crosses your lips. Ellie returns the smile.

“I’d like that a lot”

She helps you lay back down, your head resting on top of her chest and her strong arms wrapped around you. You both lie there for a moment, Ellie using one of her hands to play with your hair and you rubbing small circles on her stomach with your thumb.

The sun fully rises on you two as you both drift back asleep, ready to not wake until late in the afternoon, and the town of Jackson is lively with the hustle and bustle of its residents.

[inazuman]

i gave you that necklace because i love you!!!

Content and warnings: hawks x f!reader smut, reader is fembodied, goes by she/her, and is referred to as a woman. yandere hawks, possible dark content. he mind controls you and gets off on it. dom!hawks, sub!reader, teasing. toys, possible semi-public sex (you fuck in his glass office but no one is around), oral (f receiving), creampie, some plot but not really. pet names: hawks calls you dove. Words: 3475 A/N: this was initially part of my kinktober 2022 but it was late!!

Hawks cannot believe how well his plan went.

After nights of flying to the roof across your apartment, days of dropping his feather in your bag so he could track you, a friend from hero support gave him something special. He gave you, his trusting little secretary, a necklace as a gift, and asked that you never take it off. Though a little confused, you thanked him and complied with no complaint.

He was shocked, filled with the glee that comes from events being followed through perfectly. Because at the back was a clasp the shape of a circle, which connects itself to the bottom of your skull, to the brain stem.

After three days, Keigo sent just one piece of information to your brain. Like good mind control equipment, the thought isn’t loud in your head, but like a suggestion, a subtle change to you and your environment. First, was the sudden growing warmth of your body, which quickly subsided after a few minutes.

After another two days, it was the sensitivity of your breasts. You could feel the material of your bra brushing against your nipples more acutely than usual. A little forward of him, but to your naivety, you shook it off.

After another day, already addicted to your reactions and knowing it’s him that causes it, he causes you to feel slick in the middle of the day. Keigo watches through his glass wall at the way your eyes widen, your thighs pressing together. You grip the table for a moment and take deep breaths, then quickly resume back to your work.

Since then, he activates the device for a few minutes every few hours of your day. It gets more frequent, more intense. You excuse yourself to the bathroom more often to clean yourself up, sometimes touch yourself. You can barely wait to go home, to finally be in the comfort of your bed so that you can take the vibrator out of your drawer. You wake up in the middle of the night, heart beating fast and thighs shut tight.

It’s Keigo who sits in his own home, touching himself and forcing you to feel that arousal, almost as punishment for making him think about you. He imagines your tight skirt, undoing the buttons of your shirt… He fists his cock at 2AM in the morning and thinks, “she should feel it too”.

Finally, he can’t take it. He sits at his desk again in the morning, playing with the device and thinking to himself, “How far can this thing go?”. He plants the suggestion for you to work late tonight, despite how aroused you are. That you suddenly feel you must take care of the work that’s piled up from you leaving early the last few weeks.

He watches you, from his floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Watches as every staff member leaves and bids you goodbye. Watches as your thighs clench and you bite your lip, trying to focus on the screen. You even go to unbutton the top button of your shirt, to relieve yourself from the heat your body is making.

As the lights get darker in the office, leaving just his and yours, he inputs one last suggestion: Ask Hawks for help.

It enters your mind, and he knows immediately what you’re ‘thinking’. For help from him on the situation. The situation that has you having less and less good orgasms. That can’t just be satisfied by your vibrator.

He pretends that he doesn’t see it in the corner of his eye, the way your legs are wobbling as you stand, the way you brace yourself for every possible response he could have, your deep breaths before you open the door.

“H-,” you clear your throat, “Hawks-san-”

“Please, I’ve said before, call me Keigo.” His smile is bright, easy-going. It makes it easier for you to say what you want to say, but doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

“I- um. I know that you’ve told me… to come to you. If I, ah, if I need anything at all? Even if it’s strange?”

He lets you finish your sentence, relishes in the way you struggle to speak, your face flushed with arousal, your embarrassment.

“Of course. I’m here for you, with whatever you need.”  

“Well, um…,” you shift your weight either side of your feet. “I’m having… problems.”

“Oh, what sort of problems?” He can hardly contain his smile, resting his chin against his hand.

“It’s… I’m having trouble, ah, feeling good?”

“Feeling good? What do you mean?” His feigned innocence is artful, and for a moment, he considers whether he should’ve been an actor instead.

“Ah, please… Please feel free to say no! I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you, or you have to help me.”

He laughs. “I know my boundaries, dove. I won’t just abide by you.” His wink makes you shy.

“I-I’ve been very, a-aroused lately… I don’t know what came over me! It just happened, and I can’t make it go away… And I don’t know what to do.”

Your eyes on the ground make you fail to notice his dark smirk, his all-knowing gaze, and his mind running wild with what he wants to do to you.

“Of course I’ll help you, little dove.” Your head swishes up, eyes bright.

“Really? Thank you, Keigo-san!”

“Just Keigo is fine, darling.” He rolls his chair back, gesturing to you. “Come stand here.”

“H-Here? In the office?”

 His head tilts. “Wouldn’t you like your help right now?”

“But… anyone could come in and see.”

“No one’s gonna come to the office at this time,” he chuckles, “who wants to work on a Friday at 10PM?”

You hesitate for a moment, but under the thick fog of your arousal, and the slick you can feel still dripping from your core, you step forward. Letting him eye you up and down, you fiddle your fingers in the silence.

“You’re real pretty. You know that, doll?” He leans back, and your eyes for a moment go to his thick thighs spread across the chair, big hands against his armrest.

Keigo brings his chair right up to you, your body is trapped between his legs, no running from him. He brings his hands to the outside of your legs, just under your skirt.

“You sure you want this?” He asks, and his cologne is intoxicating, his minty breath, you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours. You don’t know why it’s him, but your body aches for him, wants him, needs him.

“Yes, please Keigo, I want this. I want you.”

He smiles wide, lets his hands run up and down your legs. “Good girl.”

He slides your skirt down your body slowly. Your panties are only in view for a moment, before your shirt falls to hide it, but Keigo sees clearly the way it sticks to you, the dampened material making his mouth water. You step out of the skirt that’s pooled to the floor, kicking it to the side.

Your now-bare thighs are for his perusal, warm skin under his calloused hands. He moves his hands up and down, thumbs brushing against your inner thigh so teasingly that almost has you begging.

“Mm, little dove… how long have you been having this problem for? Hmm?” He presses his thumb on the junction of your inner thigh. “You’re soaked.”

He knows. Knows that he’s embarrassing you, that the way your hands play with your buttons and you can’t bare to look at him is because he got you here, wet and waiting for him.

“I-,” you don’t have the words to explain what came over you when you don’t even know. Is it something to do with your period cycle? Just your body demanding things?

You stop thinking as he raises his hands to the top of your shirt, unbuttoning just enough so that only one button holds your sanity, and prevents you from possibly being seen half-naked by someone.

When your head turns back to check, he immediately brings it back forward forcibly. “Shh, dove. No one’s gonna see, yeah? I’ll make sure of it.” His hands bunch your shirt up higher, and he whistles low. “You wear this pretty lingerie for me?”

You gulp, his hands on your skin feel like heaven, his breath over your clothed cunt feels like you’re so close to relief and so far at the same time. “Keigo…” you breath, your hands still gripping the edge of the table tight. He decides to be nice, doesn’t make you say it, and instead presses a kiss against your clothed cunt. He dHe decides

You inhale sharply, you want to touch him, you want to touch him so bad, but he hasn’t said you can, and you don’t know why you know you shouldn’t? Hawks is smiling at the fact that you’re such a good girl for not, that you follow orders so easily. He likes you like this, all obedient, no matter how it happened. He rewards you for it, pulls your panties down and they land on the floor with a plop. He lifts you slightly so you’re sitting on the edge of the table, forces you to spread your legs with his hands.

“What a pretty pussy,” he chuckles low, watching your slick dripping from your pussy to the table and onto the floor. “You’re making a mess.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, flustered.

He smirks, but doesn’t comment further, diving into your pussy, a loud, broken mouth eliciting from your mouth. And this is what he’s been waiting for, to have you pliant underneath him, begging for his touch and tongue.

You can’t even hold yourself up anymore, back falling slowly onto the expanse of the table, thighs shaking despite it having been only maybe a minute that he’s been between your legs. The pleasure of your wrung-out arousal borders on pain, your core throbbing against his tongue. And he can feel it, feel the way your clit pulses under nis tongue. You’re so wet that the slick he can’t swallow down drips down his chin, down to the floor.

“Keigo! Feels so good, so good,” and he knows, that any stimulation that isn’t from your own hands or toys must feel like heaven right now. That his strong tongue lapping your folds intensively is the product of his own greed for you. His plan worked perfectly. He revels it when your back arches at a swirl he does against your clit, the pants and gasps of your breath fogging up the glass walls.

You get to the edge much quicker than you expect, your thighs tensing, the band inside of you tightening. Your body is hot, hands begging for reprieve against Hawks’ table. All you can think is you should’ve asked him sooner, that you knew he was so willing to help you, so good at it, you would’ve been able to have this daysago. This growing arousal inside of you, your mind going blank as his stubble brushes against your inner thighs, his hair falling against you. Your senses are acute and you wanna cum so bad.

“I-Can I? Can I come? Please, please Keigo, I wanna come, I-,”

“Mm, of course, dove, I’m here to help.” his mouth moves over your cunt, tongue only stopping for the moments he’s speaking. The pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves increases, he coaxes the orgasm out of you, like he knows exactly what you need.

And you cum, you come hard, the intensity wracks your brain and there’s nothing but his tongue against your cunt and the pressure inside of you releasing. Your whole body tenses, a series of sobs and whines coming out of your mouth at the satisfaction.

He watches you, carefully, wants to watch more, but he knows he needs to use this opportunity. When your eyes are still closed from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he quickly inputs another suggestion. That you’re desperate for his cock, that you want nothing but to be filled by him.

After another minute, your thighs relax and your eyes widen. You grab him in a way he doesn’t expect, pulling his pants towards you and feverishly unbuttoning them.

“Whoa, dove,” he presses his hands to your thighs, “we got time, just relax.”

“I-I need it, I need you so bad. Wan’ your cock in me now,” your babbles are plenty and he chuckles, letting you bring your hand inside his pants and watching as you freeze, hand wrapped around his clothed cock.

He’s big, you know it as you squeeze him, you nervously bring your hand against his pubic hair and into his underwear. It’s so big that even after all the prep and how wet you are, in the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about taking it. But you take it out anyways, bending down and bringing your mouth over it.

He moans, deep and dark, and to you, it’s the hottest sound in the world. His hands go to your hair, pressing your mouth down and pulling your haair back up, your tongue lathering over him has him thrusting into your mouth.

You only do so for a few minutes before he’s bringing you up to lie down on the table, spreading your legs around his wide figure.

“Thought you wanted my cock inside of you, dove?” His gold eyes take in your whole body under him, the rise and fall of your chest, your hair a mess behind your head.

“Yeah, K-Keigo, I want… want your cock,” your smile is delirious, and he takes the opportunity to make his visual better, unclasping your bra and pulling it down your chest.

“Keigo, please. ‘Want you now, please just fuck me.” The timid, soft secretary is gone. You no longer care about if people walk in, if anyone sees you. The only thing in your brain is his cock, to have him, to be fucked by him and filled by him.

He made you like this, the thought making him harder as he presses the head of his cock against your cunt, watching the way it opens up for him as he teases you. Your usually-anxious work-filled mind is blank because of the device around your neck, the one that keeps him in control without you knowing about it. And he’s grateful, especially as he slides into you and you moan wantonly under him, that the woman he’s been wanting for months is now wetter than he has ever seen in his life. The woman who he’s seen get flired with by other staff, that he’s watched tighten her thighs underneath her desk, is now begging him for his cock.

“Keigo, mm, so full,” you’re grabbing onto him, on his hands, his arms.

“Your pussy is so good, dove.” It’s thrilling, to hear your boss so vocal. “‘S so tight around me. Suckin’ me in.” His deep voice makes you slick up his cock even more, tightening up around him as he brings a thumb over your nipple.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had. Oh, that’s it. Sing for me as I fuck this cunt.” His cock enters you slowly, his hands over your breasts distracting you from the careful line of pleasure and pain that you balance on. It takes minutes for him to fully sheathe himself inside, the head of him pressing against your cervix makes you see stars. He moans deep, chestreverberating as his balls slap against your ass, fingers gripping your thighs tight.

“’m gonna fuck you like you’ve been begging for, dove. Gonna make sure you can’t live without this cock.” He mumbles it against your neck before he starts to slam into you, your screams echoing against the walls with the slap of skin and sweat.

“What a good fuckin’ cocksleeve, so fucking warm. I should make this cunt milk me every fuckin’ day. Would ya like that, dove?” His cock feels like it’s carving into your pussy, like he’s the last cock that you’ll ever take, like it’s made for him. You can barely respond with a “yes” and “please”, moaning wantonly, head hanging off the other side of the table before he pulls you back towards him. You’re helpless underneath him, your hands flail, grabbing on to both him and the table. Your slick spurts from the impact against your thighs.

“Oh! Keigo, Keigo, it’s so big, so good,” your mind and words jumble together, not sure what you’re thinking and what you’re saying or both. He responds to it, fingers spreading around either side of his cock to gather the wetness, before tapping on your clit. Your body reels towards him, the pleasure both too intense and not enough. The words coming out of your mouth just become a series of “ah-ah” and “please” and “Keigo!”. And listening to your voice just gets him harder, makes his hips smack against your thighs harder. The sick feeling of knowing he created this outcome for himself, that he’s fully in control makes sweat drip down his back.

You don’t know, but he’s waiting for it. Because he knows one of the first commands he’s ever implemented in your little, pliant mind. That your orgasms around his cock are the best you’ll ever have. That nothing will ever compare to it.

He cements his need in your life. Your pussy squeezes around him hard, puts him right on the edge too, but he holds on. Because he wants to feel you.

“Come around me, dove. I know you can do it.” His thumb runs circles around your clit, your slick making it easy and slippery. You feel the way your thighs tighten, your heartbeat rapid in your chest.

You squeeze him for all he’s worth, he moans in tandem with you, gripping you so hard to stop himself from cumming but you don’t seem to notice, head thrown back and in ecstasy, your mouth open in a silent scream. The orgasm wracks through you, from your core to the rest of your body, everything tensing. It’s never been like this before, not with your vibrator or anyone else. It’s like every nerve in your body explodes in pleasure.

It lasts minutes, you don’t move, you don’t even know if you breathe properly. He chuckles above you, slowly continuing to fuck you in and out, his fingers never leaving your clit. Your pussy is a vice around him, making him hiss as he rides out your pleasure, your body jolting under him.

When you come down, the first thing you notice is your hands gripping his arms so tight. Your body finally relaxes, taking deep breaths in. Only your heart rate in your ears slows down very little, which is when you realize he’s still going, fingertips tapping your clit. You try to scream, but it comes out small, a little noise that doesn’t compare to the slap of skin and the dirty noise of your cum moving with his cock. You try to tell him, you try so hard but it just comes out in babbles of nonsense, your arms trying to get his attention with the little energy you have.

The only response you get is him moving his hand from your clit to your thigh, pushing both legs back to either side of your ears. And you don’t know when you’ve been this flexible, but in the malleability of your body and mind, it’s somehow possible.

You didn’t know he was holding back, don’t realize how much he was focusing on your pleasure until he starts fucking you harder and faster than before. Your moans are uncontrollable, your mouth open for any sound. Your mind only knows the feeling of overstimulation, of his cock continuing to press into your raw cunt and cervix. You have no control under him, he presses your legs down until he slides once-twice- into you and then he comes, a beautiful moan coming out of him as he paints your walls white.

He slowly pushes in and out of you until he’s fully spent, aware of the sweat surrounding both of you. He almost collapses on the chair behind him, relaxing and basking in his afterglow.

“That was…” your tongue is dry in your mouth, “amazing.”

“Yeah, dove?” His response is surrounded by deep breaths, his hands going to your pussy and pressing them together and apart until he watches his pearly white cum drip slowly out of you.

“Ohh, fuck,” he almost gets hard again at the sight, but decides he doesn’t want to drain you too much. After all, he’s always got control of you now.

And even if he doesn’t? Well, he’ll find another way.

-

thank you for reading! masterlist

[spiderispunk]

Warmth

Pairing: M’Baku x Wakandan!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k 

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Black!Reader. Smut (18+). Unprotected Sex. Fingering. Dirty Talk. Fluff. 

Summary: Soft morning sex with M’Baku to keep warm. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. 

A/N: Nothing but respect for my king. Hope you all enjoy this smutty fantasy. It’s my first time writing for M’Baku, so I’m a little nervous. I also edited this in like 10 minutes, so all mistakes are my own. 

M’Baku is warm in the mornings. Especially compared to the cold air of the bedroom that surrounds you. 

Being from the River Tribe yourself, you’re still getting used to the permafrost that covers every inch of the Jabari lands. Harsh and unforgiving, it sinks into your skin, and settles deep into your bones. The cold nights and even colder mornings are jarring. And though you probably won’t mention it out loud, though you’re sure your perceptive husband already knows, the endless peaks of snowy mountains sometimes make you miss the warm, flat soil of your old valley home. 

Still, you wouldn’t trade your love for M’Baku for all the endless summers in the world. Even when your toes and fingers feel stiff and frozen, and you never think you’ll be warm again. 

Pale sunlight filters through the skylight above your bed, splintering on the glass and refracting on the walls in little swatches of rainbow. Though it gently strokes your skin, it’s weak and hardly warms you. It does, however, illuminate the hulking form of your husband. Not that the king needs the feeble rays to announce his presence, his snoring does that for him. 

You stretch, stirring your heavy limbs. A bad idea. Freezing air infiltrates the warm nest of furs piled on top of you. You shiver, and your body stiffens in protest. You curse under your breath, the chattering of teeth accompanying the colorful language. 

Bast only knows how the Jabari first survived this all those years ago, with only their hard heads and proud hearts to keep them warm. 

“You would keep the heat in if you stopped moving,” M’Baku mumbles sleepily. You can hear the amusement in his voice, warm and rich like chocolate. “Go back to sleep.” 

You huff under your breath. “I can’t.” You flex your toes, feeling the twist of soft fur. “It’s too cold.” 

M’Baku rolls onto his stomach and wordlessly lifts his arm. You slide into his embrace thankfully. He settles above you, a furnace in his own right. With his weight on top of you and his dewy breath in your ear, you almost allow yourself to sink deep into the syrupy waves of unconsciousness. That is, until your husband decides to open his mouth. 

“How is that?” He asks, body rumbling with the deep vibration of his voice. 

“Better,” you mumble, sleeping tugging heavy on your eyelids. 

“You know, this would be much easier if you were naked,” M’Baku whispers in your ear, voice raspy from the last fading traces of sleep.  

You can’t help the shudder that goes down your spine. “I doubt that.” You try to keep your tone even, but you suspect your husband heard the slight hitch in your voice from the grin pressed against your cheek. 

“No, no. Skin to skin is very effective,” he insists, one large hand sliding under the bottom of your nightgown. 

The corners of your lips tug upwards. “And how would you know that, Lord M’Baku? Who have you kept warm with this, hm, skin to skin method?” 

M’Baku clears his throat. “I’ve heard about it. The, uh soldiers…they talk.” He kisses the skin behind your ear. “Shall we give it a try? Hm, ikumkani wam?” He slips one of the straps from your shoulder and presses a kiss there as well. The scrape of his beard against your skin has your mind slipping to other things, though you’re sure M’Baku’s mind has wandered there as well. 

“And if I’m still cold afterwards?” You ask, the words saccharine and coy, dripping off of your tongue like honey.

He lifts his head so you can see the glimmer in the depths of his dark eyes. “Then I suppose we would have to try a different tactic.” 

You sit up to let him pull the nightgown over your head and fall back against the soft bed. M’Baku’s eyes roam over the soft curves of your body, lit by the gentle sunlight. Your skin looks like honeyed whiskey. Like onyx glinting at noon. Polished mahogany and clay. He drinks you in, and you do the same. 

Your gaze sliding over the rounded peaks of his shoulders. Down the expanse of his chest to his belly, and then dipping further still. To the hard flesh of his cock, stiff against your inner thigh. 

M’Baku likes to sleep naked. The way Hanuman intended, he says, and you’re not complaining. It gives you easy access. Easy access for your eyes to gawk at him. To appreciate the way his shoulders roll when he stretches. Easy access for your fingers to skim over his soft skin. To feel the heat of his body pressed tightly against yours.  

Easy access to do other things, like slide your hand down his stomach and wrap around his cock. 

“What are you doing, my love?” He murmurs, eyelids sliding shut. 

“Keeping you warm.” 

“Mm, I thought that was supposed to be my job.” 

You look up at him, a smile growing on your face. “Then come keep me warm, my king.” 

M’Baku lowers himself over you with a short snort of laughter. “Yes, ikumkani wam.” 

His lips meet yours, slow and sweet at first. Bringing a warmth that unfurls in your belly like the comfort of the first sip of tea. The rich, sharp taste of wine after a long day. His warrior’s hands are gentle on your body, calloused fingertips skimming over your jaw. Tilting your head to the side so he can kiss you deeper, press his tongue into the seam of your mouth. 

And then the kiss grows faster, heated. The press of his lips more insistent. The warmth of his tongue fills you, eagerly tasting each and every moan that bubbles up from your throat. The press of his fingers hard against your skin. Stripping you down, squeezing and pulling you closer. A hand over your breast, palm scraping your nipple. The other gripping your thigh, using it for leverage to rut against your stomach. 

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and let M’Baku press you deeper into the bed. 

His lips leave yours and carve a path over your body. Down your throat. Across your shoulder. Over the peaks of your breasts, with a detour to suck on your puckered nipples. His tongue laves over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and wetness pooling between your thighs. 

M’Baku fits his hand between your legs, and plays with your folds. “Glory to Hanuman,” he breathes against your chest. “An offering all for me?” His fingers swirl around your clit, then dip to press against your entrance. 

You arch your back, legs spreading of their own accord. An invitation. One he accepts willingly. 

He slides a finger into your cunt, breaking you open for him. You mewl, a heady warmth sliding through you at the slow press of his fingers. His name falls off of your lips. A quiet puff of air in the vast expanse of the room. 

M’Baku curls his finger, fucking you open in broad strokes. His thumb circles your clit at a leisurely pace. He’s in no hurry. Content to watch you twitch and shudder under his touch. To behold the display of hedonism splayed out across furs and cotton. He would much rather pass the day with you, tangled in the sheets. Taking his time to unravel you bit by bit, over and over again. 

Let the council wait. They couldn’t do anything without him.

He is king, after all. And as king, his job was to take care of his queen. 

“Are you feeling warm yet, my love?” Your husband asks, sliding a second finger inside of you.  

The burn of the stretch is intoxicating. In no time, you feel as though you are floating on clouds. Ascending to the heavens. 

You want more. You need more. You need him. His weight on top of you. His cock inside of you. Pushing and pushing, taking and taking. Giving until you’re spent. 

“I’m still a little cold,” you say, and though you try to play it coy, the desire is embarrassingly clear in your voice. 

M’Baku chuckles. “Well, we cannot have that, can we?” He asks. “How should I warm you?”

“Make love to me, M’Baku” you whisper, wrapping your hand around his cock again. You guide him towards the wanting warmth of your cunt. 

“Mm. Yes, my queen.” M’Baku spreads your legs wider and situates himself between your thighs.

His lips brush over yours as he thrusts forward, letting the head of his cock slide against your clit. He groans at the warmth of you coating his aching cock; the soft skin of your thighs caging him in, urging him closer. His hips roll forward again, and again, and again, until he’s completely covered in you. 

You sigh against his parted mouth, lifting your hips up to meet his next thrust. “Please,” you beg. You long to feel him move inside you. To be joined, one body, one soul. 

M’Baku shushes you, his hand sliding down  your stomach. He holds you in place as he fills you with one slow stroke. 

Your jaw drops, and you choke at the sensation. So full. Of love. Of him. The air in your lungs exits in a pitiful whine as M’Baku pushes into you completely. You scratch at his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him closer. 

M’Baku moans, low and gravelly, as the warmth of your cunt envelopes him. The hand not holding you still fists into the pillow beside your head. An anchor keeping him present. Keeping him contained. He curses quietly, eyes screwing shut. 

“Bast,” you pant. “You feel so good inside me, kumkani wam.” 

M’Baku’s hips snap forward at the sound of his official title falling from your lips. “Be careful, my love, or this will be over much sooner than we’d want.”

“I don’t care.” You grab his hip, trying to urge him forward. “I want you. All of you.” 

He kisses your chin, but doesn’t budge. “And I want you.” 

“Then take me.” You grind your own hips upwards, desperate for some kind of friction. “I’m yours.”

“Relax, my love.” M’Baku draws his hips backwards. “I will take care of you.”

And take care of you he does. His thrusts, though languid at first, are hard and deep. They would have pushed you up the bed if your lover hadn’t been holding you in place. M’Baku curls his body over you, pinning you down so that all you can do is take all that he gives. And he gives so much. 

He is all around you. Warm like the summer rains of your homeland. His lips caressing your skin. Sweeping down your neck and across your shoulders. His skin pressed against yours. Heat burrowing its way into your skin. Magma settling low in your stomach, spreading into your veins, bursting on the tip of your tongue. His body rolls against yours like ocean waves. Threatening to capsize you. To drown you. 

M’Baku is grinding now, just the way you like it. He hooks his arm under your leg. Spreading you apart so his hips can brush your clit with every thrust. Now the fire burns over your skin. Leaving uncontrollable decimation in its wake.  

You cry out, nails scratching against his arms, and M’Baku smiles. 

“There you are.” He kisses you messily. “Is this what you wanted, my queen?” 

You nod. “Don’t stop.” 

“Oh, I won’t stop, my love.” His hips speed up a little. “Not when you’re so close. I want to watch you fall apart on my cock. I want all of Jabari Land, all of Wakanda, to know how their king pleasures his queen. Will you tell them, my love? Hm? Will you shout my name for all to hear?” 

“Yes. Oh yes. Just–ah– just don’t stop. I’m going to come.” You arch into his touch, your orgasm so maddeningly close. 

“Show me,” he murmurs, lifting your leg higher to change the angle, and it’s all over.

Light bursts behind your eyelids. Static fills your senses. You come with a broken wail, sharp cries of fuckfuckfuck and M’Baku and kumkani wam filling the air. M’Baku fucks you through your orgasm steadily, not stopping, even when the peak of your first crests into a smaller, but still earth-shattering, second. 

His voice fills your ear. Gentle praises of how beautiful you are when you come, of how good your cunt feels squeezing around him. Filthy promises of his own impending orgasm– to fill you up until you were dripping, to keep it there inside of you, to watch it slide onto the sheets, and to fuck it back inside of you. 

“I want it,” you say desperately. “I want all of it. Please, M’Baku. I want to feel you inside of me.” 

M’Baku groans, fingers digging into your thigh. He kisses you deeply, burying his own strangled cry in your mouth. His hips stutter, hard thrusts growing sloppy. He can only grunt out a warning before he’s spilling his warmth inside of you. 

It feels never ending. Your body seizes, legs wrapping around his waist to hold him there. M’Baku rocks against you, riding out the wave of his orgasm. His lips brush your cheek, muttering nonsensical phrases against your skin. He sags on top of you, holding you close as your heartbeats return to normal. 

“Do you think they heard us?” M’Baku grins sheepishly. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You tease, limbs relaxing as the world begins to fade around you. 

“Mmm,” he answers. “How are you, my love? Do you think you could sleep now?” 

You nod weakly. Exhaustion already tugs heavily at your eyelids. Between the sex and the comforting weight of his body, you could be out in mere seconds. 

“Good,” he whispers. “Sleep. And when you wake I promise I will be ready to make love to you again.” 

“What about your council meeting?” You ask. “Your duties as king?” 

“My duty as king is to keep you happy and warm.” He yawns, and rests his chin against the top of your head. “The council will just have to wait until we are done.” He says, sleep already lacing into the edges of his voice.  

M’Baku makes good on his word when you awake some few hours later. Several times, in fact.  

He is king after all. And a good king always keeps his promises.

Comments/Reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

Tags: @flightlessangelwings​ @luxuryberzatto​

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt + kitten licks fic

I know it's canon that Eddie has a black cat named Ozzy but I like to think he has a female black cat called Sabbath (so basically... Black Sabbath) and you and Sabbath are what Eddie likes to call "his 2 favorite girls"

Any blurb/headcanon /opinions on this one?

So, since I already did a blurb in this universe for my 2k that would contradict this, I decided to make this not in that verse. I definitely would've done both if I hadn't already written the first one before I received this and ended up writing myself into a corner lol. OR you could think of this way in the future in the Kitten Licks verse if you'd like! But thank you for the request, I absolutely love writing about Eddie and cats

Words: 1k

Coming home to Eddie was always your favorite part of the day. It didn’t matter where you were coming from: work, the store, spending time with friends. Just knowing you’d open the door and those crazy curls and beautiful smile would be waiting for you was enough to give you butterflies every time. 

Even tonight when girl’s night ended unexpectedly early because Robin was feeling sick, you found yourself grinning the closer you got to home. Grabbing the first parking space you see in front of your apartment building, you get out of the car and walk over to your door. It’s unlocked since Eddie is home, but you don’t see him when you step inside. Frowning, you peer into the kitchen but he isn’t there either. You’re about to call his name when you hear his voice coming from your bedroom down the hall.

“I can’t get over how pretty you are.”

Raising an eyebrow, you begin to walk down the hallway.

“Aw, you like that? That feel good?”

You cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the wall right next to your bedroom door.

“God, your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Okay,” you say as you push yourself off the wall. “You better be talking to Sabbath.”

You step into the entryway of your bedroom, and see the little black kitten curled up on your boyfriend’s bare chest. Her little black nose is sniffing the air right above his face as if she’s trying to smell out what he’s saying to her. Eddie shoots you a grin while his finger scratches Sabbath’s chin. 

“Hey babe,” Eddie says. “What’re you doing home so early?”

Ozzy is lying on a pile of dirty laundry in the corner, watching the two on the bed with a glare. The older black cat does not look happy that the kitten is getting all of the attention, even though he always gets more than his fair share. Ozzy jumps down from the clothes and makes his way over to you. He rubs up against your legs and meows at you for affection. You lean down and pick up your little boy, cradling him to your chest. Purring in contentment, he nuzzles his head against your neck.

“You’re so lucky you were talking to the cat,” you say to Eddie. “I would’ve kicked your ass if you were talking to another girl like that. In our bed. While I was out.”

Eddie pouts, still petting the kitten. Sabbath lets her eyes slip closed as she enjoys the sensation. You don’t blame her; you do the same thing when Eddie’s hands are on you. 

“I would never,” Eddie says. “There are only two girls in my life and you’re both in this room.” 

“Should I be jealous that I’m not the one laying on your naked chest?” you ask as Ozzy rubs his face against your cheek.

“We can fix that,” Eddie says with a smirk. 

Still holding your needy older cat in your arms, you walk over and climb onto the bed. Ozzy doesn’t seem to be thrilled to be close to his baby sister, while Sabbath looks over at him with wide green eyes, always interested in what the bigger cat is doing. 

“Robin got sick,” you tell Eddie, answering the original question he asked you. “So, we called it a night.”

“I’m sorry she’s sick but I’m happy to have you home with me.” Eddie opens his arm for you, and you cuddle up to his side. Ozzy decides you’ve forsaken him for Eddie, so he hops off your lap and curls up at the foot of the bed. 

You press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and Sabbath stands up, stretching her tiny body out on his chest.

“How’s my sweet girl?” you ask, reaching over and running your hand along the length of her soft onyx fur. She begins to knead on Eddie’s chest, and he winces as her sharp baby claws prick at his skin.

“Hey, hey, watch it,” he says. You tap lightly on her front paws, and she stops, leaning down to lick the pad of your finger. A sigh of contentment comes from Eddie as Sabbath settles, closer to his shoulder this time. Her soft purrs make the two of you smile at one another. “Got all my favorites right here on the bed with me.”

As if knowing what Eddie said and deciding he doesn’t want to be a part of it, Ozzy gets up and jumps off the bed, sauntering out of your bedroom. 

“Fine, be an asshole,” Eddie says to him. “I’ll just stay here with my two favorite girls.”

“As long as I’m number one,” you say. Sabbath lets out a soft mewl that has both of you laughing.

“Sorry, my little black Sabbath,” Eddie says. “Your mama is my number one.” 

She releases a tiny sigh and lowers her head to her paws, letting her big green eyes close. 

“Looks like we have two jealous cats,” you say.

“Pretty sure they get it from you,” Eddie says with a playful smile. “Coming in here and thinking I’m talking to another woman.”

“And you were,” you say, eyes sliding to Sabbath. Eddie reaches over and takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles. “Can you blame me, though? I’ve got the best boyfriend in the world. I gotta stay on my toes so no one steals him from me.”

“I assure you, that’s impossible,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your hair. 

“Even a girl as cute as Sabbath?”

“No one is cuter than you, baby.”

[blueicequeen19]

Patience is Virtue Pt. 2

Warnings: stalker Rafe, finger action in a car

Part Three

It’s been two days since she told me she had a child and fled. I stood on her doorstep for another ten minutes before I followed her to see for myself.

I watched from a far as she went to Scooter’s widows house and picked up an infant. Not just a kid. An infant. In a fucking carrier and everything.

For a moment I’m defeated. This changed things. But as I watch her load up her child and drive back to her apartment, I realize there’s nothing stopping me. I’m in. She could have ten kids and severe debt and buck teeth. I didn’t care.

If anything I had more to gain now.

A family.

Which brought up the sudden thought of the child’s father. Where was he and how do I keep him out of the picture? I’m suddenly thrown into a fantasy of her swollen and pregnant with my child. I’ve heard pregnant pussy is the best pussy and now my dick is painfully hard. Blue balls were a pain in the ass, even worse when you’re driving.

I can’t stay away now. So like a creep, I wait until it’s well after midnight and the lights are all off before I climb up the sketchy fire escape. There’s nothing more than a sheer curtain over her bedroom window and I can see right in. There’s a crib up against one wall next to her dresser and a mattress and box spring against the other wall.

The urge to steal them both away and give them everything is strong. She deserved better. Suddenly there’s a wail like nothing I’ve ever heard before and she bolts upright in bed then throws the blanket off as she goes to the crib. Her ass is covered in nothing but a tiny pair of panties and an oversized shirt hangs off her shoulders. I palm my cock through my jeans, willing the fucker to go down for a second.

I watch as she tugs the shirt down and shoves her nipple into the banshees mouth. I’m mesmerized by the act. And jealous. Now I want those nipples in my mouth and to know what she tastes like.

I pull my cock out, the pain too much to bare. She tugs her shirt off like she’s hot, leaving herself in nothing but her panties and I nut in less than five strokes. Like a horny fucking teenager who just got to second base. But fuck did it feel good. So good I almost groaned out loud, giving myself away.

I can’t look away even after wiping off my hand, although most of my cum went between the metal grates, and tucking myself away. My dick was still hard and I was still enchanted by her. It was beyond beautiful seeing her as a mother.

I had to have her. I didn’t care how or why or when but I would. I needed to find out if she was on any birth control. Where the kids father was. Then get her pregnant with my spawn as soon as possible. And keep her that way. I wanted a fucking football team of her babies.

She’d be mine. One way or another.

The next day I get cornered by Kelce over my sudden disappearance all the time. He’s worse than a high school kid over drama. I wish the fucker had a hobby or a life outside of intruding on mine and bumming coke off me. The only reason I keep him around is because of his family ties and he’s handy in a fight. Other than that, I’m not sure where his loyalties lie.

"Dude, you've been distant for weeks. Where the fuck have you been? You never respond in the group chat. You’re never home." Kelce presses, following me down the stairs and into the kitchen. Maybe I could trip him and get away with it.

"Some of us work, Kelce." I snap. Breakfast is laid out on the counter but I don't eat anything. I needed to save my stomach for the diner when I see her but Kelce dives right in like the mooch he is. His plate is piled high as he sits down and I know this is my only chance to leave without being followed. Food and pussy is all he cares about.

"You don't work. It's a chick isn't it? You getting some pussy, Rafe?" Just hearing Kelce talk about her sets my teeth on edge. I'd rather knock his teeth down his throat.

"No, it’s your mom. Now fuck off." Kelce glares at me with his mouth full of food but I ignore him as I turn around and walk out. I was going to have to start driving a different car. One less noticeable because Kelce will no doubt try to find out whatever I'm up to. Ward and Rose are in the Bahamas again so I take her car. No one gives a shit about a plain sedan.

Thirty minutes later, I show up at the diner. The door chimes as I walk in and her head jerks up from across the room to look at me. I smile and she blushes. I take that as a good sign so I sit in my usual spot and wait for her while I glance over the menu that I already have memorized.

I smell her perfume before I see her although my body is so drawn to hers that I can feel her approach. She steps behind the counter and turns in a ticket before grabbing a mug and filling it up, adding my cream and sugar for me before sitting it in front of me with a nervous smile.

"Hi."

"Hi, doll." I sip my awful coffee as her cheeks pink up. Now that she's directly in front of me, I can see the exhaustion written on her face. Her lids are heavy but she maintains a smile. Another customer walks in and I mentally roll my eyes as she scurries off to help them.

When she comes back around to me, I’m fighting the urge to bend her over the fucking counter and bury my cock in her until she cries.

“What’s wrong, Rafe?” She asks, eyes wide and frantic. I must look like an animal right now.

“You need to take a break. Right now.” My voice is barely more than a growl but honestly I don’t care if I’m scaring her. She cocks her head for a moment before locking eyes with another waitress and giving her a nod.

“I’ll meet you out back?” She says, backing away slowly and disappearing through the staff door. I pull the car around back and park so I’m facing away from the building. She gets in, looking incredibly frightened but I don’t have it in me to care as I grasp the back of her neck and smash our lips together.

If she’s startled, she doesnt act like it because her hands immediately tangle in my hair and she’s up on her knees in the seat to get to me. My tongue dominates her mouth just as much as hers does mine. Teeth clank together. Lips are bitten. I’m all but consuming her through her mouth when she finally pulls her lips away, gasping.

Her eyes are watering and those perfect lips quiver like she’s about to cry.

“You came.” She whimpers, tears spilling and stealing the air from my lungs. I’d kill for her.

“Why wouldn’t I? You think a baby would keep me away?” Her eyes narrow for a second at my slip up. She never said it was a baby. Just that she had a kid.

“I saw the base in your car. I just assumed.” I add, seeing her visibly relax so I tuck some stray hairs behind her ear and cup her face.

“Rafe, this is so new. So sudden. I can’t seem to fight it though. I feel so drawn to you. Like you see me when no one else does.” I kiss her again, ready to fuck her for the first time in this car.

“I only have ten more minutes.” She whispers against my lips. I take that as my green light to plunge my hand between her parted thighs and up her skirt. Her panties are soaked. I barely brush over her clit and she’s moaning loudly, bucking her hips.

“When was the last time you were touched?” I growl, tugging her panties to the side and cupping her pussy in my palm.

“When I got pregnant.” She pants, grinding herself against my hand. I growl low and long. I needed to claim her. Mark her. Own her. Impregnate her. But we didn’t have time right now.

“I’m going to fuck you eventually. Long and slow then fast and hard. I’ll make sure you scream and cry my name every single time you cum and you’ll soak my cock and my sheets. No one else gets to touch you or look at you the way I do. You’re mine.” I plunge two fingers inside her and she cums instantly, fisting my shirt in her tiny hands while her face pinches up in ecstasy. It’s my new favorite thing.

“That’s it. My dirty girl. Letting me finger your tight little pussy on break.” She’s not finished her first climax before she’s thrown into another, her cries growing more high pitched until my ears ring.

I love it.

She gushes all over my fingers. Her cheeks are flushed, his lips wet and parted, her eyes squeezed shut in bliss. All from me.

When her eyes finally open, all dazed and droopy, I finally withdraw my fingers and don’t break eye contact as I suck them clean in my mouth. She shudders.

“Can w-we meet again after my shift? I feel like we should talk.” She murmurs, sitting back in her seat as she fights to catch her breath.

“Absolutely. But just so you know, I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted me too. There was no way I could let her go now that I’d tasted her.

[patheticgirlsteve]

Steve loves Eddie's hands. They're beautiful and they're kind of impossible not to stare at, Steve thinks. He's not really sure how everyone else manages to pull their eyes away from them when they're playing guitar at The Hideout, or gesticulating with gusto during one of their Hellfire sessions, or when they're absently spinning the rings that adorn his fingers.

So, yeah, Steve loves Eddie's hands, thinks about them constantly. About what they would feel like holding Steve's hand as they sit together on the couch during movie night, or how they would feel cupping his face as he leaned in for a kiss, or how they would feel sinking into Steve's hair, tugging just a little.

So when Steve sees his opportunity to find out just how those hands feel cradled in his own, he takes it.

They've been at the trailer all day, smoking and just hanging out together with no expectations. These are some of Steve's favorite days lately, just spending time with Eddie, listening to him ramble about whatever nerd tangent he's gone off on any given day.

He specially likes days like today, specifically. Days when Eddie's writing music. He won't let Steve see what lyrics he's frantically scrawling into his notebook, but Steve gets to hear the music and that's enough for him. He's kind of honored to be allowed to witness what is clearly a very personal process for Eddie.

Eddie's been playing and writing and playing and writing and playing some more all day, and Steve sees his chance as soon as Eddie puts his baby back on her mount on the wall and flops back onto his bed with a wide grin.

Steve grins back and doesn't say anything as he reaches out and grabs one of Eddie's hands. He carefully starts removing the bulky silver rings from Eddie's fingers.

"What are you doing?" Eddie is watching Steve with an intensity that is hard to ignore, but Steve just continues in his task. He's on a mission and he will not be derailed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Steve says, slipping off the last of Eddie's rings. They're sitting close, Eddie leaned back against his pillow and Steve cross-legged next to him with his body turned toward Eddie's like a sunflower finding the sun.

"It looks like you're taking off my rings. Why are you doing that? Are you trying to steal them? You could just ask, you know, I'd give you one if you wanted," Eddie doesn't sound upset, just confused and maybe a tiny bit flustered underneath his joking tone. Steve would check to see if Eddie's face has that delightful little flush that it sometimes gets when Steve touches him a little more tenderly than usual or flirts with him a little more overtly.

Steve would like to look, but he thinks he might lose his nerve if he does, so he keeps his eyes focused on Eddie's hands. On Eddie's long fingers, his chipped nails, his calloused fingertips. He places the removed rings into a small pile on Eddie's bedside table, in the little jewelry dish that Steve had gotten for him last month.

"No thanks, they're not really my style. I'm taking them off so that I can do this," And he pulls Eddie's arm out a little further from his body so that he can start massaging Eddie's palm with both of his thumbs.

"Oh," Eddie gasps and Steve feels a rush of satisfaction at how out of breath Eddie sounds. Steve chances a look up and is quietly delighted to see that Eddie is indeed blushing.

"Yeah," Steve offers a small smile as he turns his attention back to Eddie's hand in his. "I figured your hands must be cramping a bit after playing and scribbling things down in your little notebook all day."

Steve sees Eddie nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, um," Eddie says and Steve's heart is racing in his chest. "Thanks, that, uh, it feels good."

"Good," Steve looks up at Eddie with another small smile and releases his hand. "Other hand?" He holds his own palm up for Eddie to place his hand in, which he does bashfully.

"Okay," Eddie is staring openly at Steve almost like he can't believe that Steve would want to massage his hands, which Steve thinks is ridiculous because it's not like he's been subtle about his attraction to Eddie for the past several months.

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand quickly before he works his thumbs into his other palm and it's a little bit sweaty now, but Steve doesn't mind. They sit in companionable silence while Steve finishes the massage.

When he's done, he doesn't release Eddie's hand back to him, just sits with it in his own for a moment. He could do something now, it's a risk, but Steve's almost positive now that Eddie feels the same way about Steve that Steve feels about Eddie. And even if Steve's wrong about that he knows that Eddie won't give him shit for being queer.

So, why not? The benefits of being right outweigh the fear of being wrong and Steve makes up his mind.

"Steve?" Eddie asks slowly, but makes no move to remove his hand from Steve's grip.

"Eddie," Steve answers and brings Eddie's knuckles up to trace across his lips. Steve hears Eddie gasp as he places a gentle but undeniable kiss on the center of Eddie's knuckles, letting his lips linger for a moment before pulling back to look at Eddie's face.

For such a small kiss Eddie looks absolutely wrecked, his face is flushed, his eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is hanging open. Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's lips unconsciously and Eddie closes them with a swallow that makes his adam's apple bob tantalizingly.

"Eddie," Steve repeats and he inches forward so that his knees are pressed up against Eddie's thighs, his face hovering over Eddie's. "Tell me if I'm wrong, okay?"

And then he kisses Eddie.

He doesn't panic when Eddie doesn't kiss back immediately, Steve's kissed enough people to know that it takes a moment sometimes for your brain to catch up with your body.

He doesn't panic, but he does feel a huge rush of relief when Eddie does kiss back, sweet and deep and Steve feels like he could drown in it.

And when one of Eddie's hands comes up to cradle Steve's face while the other works its way into Steve's hair, it feels even better than Steve had imagined.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {29}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, smut, labour

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I woke to soft kisses on my shoulder and Pierre’s hand catching the foot that kicked wildly. Dawn had already broken and he should have been getting ready for race day but I was thankful to have him all to myself for a few minutes before I had to share him with the world.

“I was having a good dream,” I murmured as I snuggled back against his chest and the warmth his bare skin offered.

“Yeah? What made it good?” he asked between the kisses that inched their way up my neck.

He gently sucked the sweet spot below my ear and my breath left my lungs with a soft moan. “You.”

“What was I doing?” he whispered in my ear, his fingertips travelling slowly down my waist and over my hip leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I rolled over to face him and he pulled my leg over his hip, the thin material between us needing only a small adjustment to make my dream spill into the real world. Unfortunately one of us had to be responsible and it fell on me as I brushed his wild hair back from his face. “Things you're not allowed to do on race day.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat at the reminder and he pulled me closer, grinding his hard length over my soaked panties. “If I have to be horny all day, so can you.”

All thoughts of being responsible were erased when he rolled his hips again to tease me. It wasn’t really my fault with how erratic these hormones made me, one moment I could be crying because I couldn’t find a matching sock in the washing pile and the next I was climbing on Pierre’s lap with a burning need to be filled. 

“You vowed to satisfy me every day for the rest of our lives,” I said as I hooked my leg around him to stop him from rolling away to get out of bed.

“Cherish, love and obey,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure the priest would’ve let me say satisfy.”

“Then obey your wife, and make love to me,” I muttered against his lips before I captured them and felt his hand reach between us, pulling my panties aside.

“You are a terrible influence,” he smirked, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds and feeling just how wet I was for him.

“The worst,” I sighed softly as he prepared my body for him, but I was more than ready to take him. “Please, Pierre, I need you. You can take your time with me tomorrow.”

The sun was out, the Suzuka circuit was in its optimal condition and Pierre was having an amazing race. It couldn’t have been more exciting with big challenges going on with every lap as I sat on the wall beside Otmar, my headset connected to the team comms. 

“Go baby, go,” I whispered to the muted microphone as he hit the DRS zone fractions behind Fernando. Pierre swung out of the slipstream and with the drag reduction open he was flying past the Aston Martin. I leapt from the chair with a scream as he pulled into fourth position and turned into the speed trap corner perfectly while Otmar punched the air with a grin. 

“Great work, Pierre, keep that up, you’ve got your wife jumping out her seat,” Otmar praised before he turned to me but I was busy staring at my dress, or more importantly, the small puddle of water dripping at my feet. “Oh, shit.”

“What? What is it?” Pierre asked in a hurry.

“Don’t!” I hissed at my godfather when he opened his mouth. “There’s only 4 laps left. Please, don’t tell him.”

“Nothing, just spilled my drink in the excitement,” Otmar answered and I could see he wasn’t happy with the lie before he muted his microphone. “We need to get you off the wall now and to the hospital.”

“It’s too early…what do I do?” My voice broke as his arm hooked into mine and he looked down the pits to see if any teams were preparing a stop.

“Don’t think about that right now, you’ll be in good hands.” After he was satisfied it was clear, he walked me across the asphalt and caught the eyes of the paramedics who usually checked the crew if someone got injured.

“Get her in an ambulance now,” Otmar ordered them as he grabbed my bag from the pile of belongings on Pierre’s shelf. “I’ll call Damien so he can bring Addie and Pierre.”

A huge cheer filled the garage and I spun around to see the screens replaying another overtake. Pierre was in third place with two laps to go, just ahead of Charles, but he was still too far from the Red Bull cars to catch unless there was a flag. There was no way I could stop him now, not when he was going to find himself on a podium.

The tight sensations I had felt on and off since arriving at the paddock were no longer just uncomfortable but becoming painful. These were not harmless braxton hicks contractions anymore and more water was running down my legs with each one. That was when the panic set in.

“Talk me through what’s happening, Bri.” Amber said as she opened her medical kit and pulled out the blood pressure cuffs. Ever since my pregnancy was announced they had been kept up to date with my progress for this very situation and I had thought it was silly at the time, now I would have to thank Otmar for indulging Pierre’s request.

“My waters have broken and I’m guessing that the back ache I’ve had all day isn’t actually a back ache.” I hunched over as another wave of pain clenched the entire span of my stomach and a low groan escaped my gritted teeth. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“BP is a little high but that’s expected when in pain. Sounds like baby is definitely coming a little early so I’m going to call one of the standby ambulances to come and get us alright.”

My hands trembled as I held my stomach protectively and watched her make the call through her walkie talkie. “I’m only 34 weeks.”

“Japan has some of the best medical care in the world, they are equipped to handle this,” she assured me as she received a reply that the ambulance was coming down the pitlane.

Pierre’s POV

“Tires struggled on this lap,” I commented to my engineer as I checked my mirrors to see Charles’ red car falling further behind. “Hello?”

I had pushed the medium tires more than I should have but I had the pace to get ahead of Charles so I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity while it was in my grasp. Instead I would just have to be more conscious on the corners with the grip getting worse.

I rounded the last corner before hitting the home straight and spared a glance to the pit wall in case the comms had gone down and the team put a sign out. What I saw instead made my heart skip a beat.

“Why is there an ambulance? Hello? Can you hear me?” Each second of silence that passed left my palms sweaty and my attention torn between where I was and where I wanted to be.

The comms crackled to life in my ear and my engineer finally answered. “Just manage the tires the best you can for the final lap.”

“The ambulance,” I repeated as my eyes darted around the track searching for any flags being waved but the stewards held nothing. “Why is it in the pit lane?”

“Focus on the race, babe.” The relief my wife’s voice brought was fleeting as it didn’t hold the same warmth and the tone was clipped like when she was distracted, or in pain.

“Box, box, I’m coming in,” I rushed as I hit the button on my console to confirm I was returning to the pits at the end of the lap.

“You can’t finish in the pit!” Bri argued before she groaned in pain and my mind was set as I pushed the limits of the tires to get back to her even sooner.

“Try stop me,” I muttered.

Determination set in as clusters of marbles were thrown from my tires on every corner, blue flags waving as I passed Logan's car and then Oscar’s next. There was no elation when Karel let me know I set a new sector record or that I was closing in on Danny. There was nothing but the need to get to my family.

I could see the chequered flag waving, the finish line up ahead and the crowd on their feet. I hated to disappoint the fans, but my family would always come first. It was them who would still be standing by my side when I no longer raced, not the fans, of that I had no illusion.

I pulled into the pits, ignoring the speed limit, and found the teams had created a path that usually would have been swamped by the media. A path that led all the way to the ambulance waiting outside my garage.

The wheels locked with how hard I came to a stop and I barely registered cutting the power before I was tearing the console from the steering column and jumping to the asphalt.

I was no stranger to adrenaline but the fear that cut through me was unlike anything I had ever experienced when I saw Bri on the stretcher, her brows pinched in pain and her hands cradling her stomach. The thought of something bad happening to either of them caused a chill to creep into my body.

They had to be alright, or I would never be able to alright again.

“Give me your helmet and go,” Otmar ordered as stood at the door to the ambulance. 

“Adelaide?”

“Damien’s with her and they’ll find you at the hospital.” Otmar frowned and pressed the headset closer to his ear before looking down the pit to the entrance where Charles was pulling in. “What? All of them?”

I didn’t wait to find out what was happening as I climbed the steps into the ambulance and grabbed my wife’s hand. “Le bébé?” My throat seemed to close at the question and I tried to keep my mind busy as I waited for an answer but then I saw the skirt of those floral sundresses she loved so much. The bright material was dark with the liquid soaking it.

“I don’t know.” Tears welled in her eyes at the whispered admission and I took the seat beside her, pressing my lips to her forehead so she didn’t see the ones that filled mine too.

“It’s okay, shh, it’s alright, amore,” I murmured weakly as I looked at the team medic and prayed I wasn’t lying.

“BP is still rising but the baby's heartbeat is steady so they are stable for transport,” Amber said as she watched the readings on the monitor. “Shiroko Women’s are preparing a theatre for our arrival. They’re in good hands, Pierre.”

Her words gave me a glimmer of hope that I clung to. I needed that to be true for my own sanity.

Amber got up to close the back of the van after relaying the information to a translator who passed it onto the hospital and the air left my lungs as I saw the line of cars down the pit lane, the Williams and McLaren I had overtaken on the last lap just pulling in at the very back. 

“FIA can’t DNF 18 drivers,” Bri said as she saw the same thing and squeezed my hand tightly. “They’ll be forced to use the pit entry as the final positions. They’re making sure you get your podium.”

“I don’t need it,” I said as I leaned back in the seat to see the driver putting the van in gear. “I need you and our baby safe.”

A loud bang sounded on the back door just as we started to roll forward and I shouted to the driver to stop at the familiar voice calling out. 

“Let him in,” Bri begged Amber, though the space was already limited.

Amber opened the door quickly and Yuki stood panting from the full out sprint he had made along the pit lane to reach us. “I thought you might need a translator,” he said as he scratched his head and looked me dead in the eye. “Your japanese is fucking shit.”

The small chuff of laughter from Bri lightened the burden in my chest and I glanced at our entwined fingers resting on her stomach before looking back at my friend. “I could use all the help I can get.”

Click here for chapter thirty.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[mecchantheotaku]

Last night I came up with ideas for the voices' bedrooms in my AU. Decided to post here as general headcanons for if they had physical forms lmao.

Hero: Has a simple room with everything he needs, but he's not very good at cleaning it. It's frequently messy and some of the furniture is dusty. Notably, he's the only one that outright refused to put a mirror in his room.

Broken: If Hero is bad at cleaning, Broken straight up doesn't clean at all. As a result, his room is a nightmare to look at. Takeout boxes and drink cans scattered everywhere, stains all over his furniture and floor, trash bags in a pile next to the door... yeah, it's that bad. He rarely ever turns the light on either.

Cheated: Because he really doesn't want to get stabbed again, he took the time to smooth out all the corners of his furniture. Despite this, he still somehow manages to get hurt on a regular basis, going by the blood stains everywhere.

Cold: His room has the exact opposite of personality. He has minimal furniture and almost no belongings. Everything is either white, grey or beige. It's spotlessly clean. It's kind of eerie to look at.

Contrarian: None of his furniture matches, and they're all arranged in peculiar ways (for instance: the foot of his bed is against the wall, not the head). He has a corkboard proudly displaying photos of his pranks. His clothes are all put in piles outside the closet, with the closet itself housing his computer.

Hunted: His room has no furniture but plenty of belongings scattered on the floor. His closet has the doors removed. His "bed", if you can call it that, is a pile of blankets and pillows in the center of his room. he refuses to change anything about his room, claiming it feels right to him and he knows where everything is.

Opportunist: His room looks clean and stylish, but he's actually too lazy to clean it properly so the trash is actually stored in his closet and under his bed. He notably didn't pick out any of the things in his room for his own interests, he just picked whatever was popular to earn the approval of others.

Paranoid: His room has a lot of carefully organized furniture and belongings that nobody is allowed to touch but him. You'd expect someone like him to live in a mess, but his room is actually very clean. He's gotta do something in there to calm his nerves.

Skeptic: His room has simple furniture, with the exception of a massive bookshelf and not one, but TWO desks. One of his desks is used for general use while the other is his "puzzle-solving" desk, cluttered with paper and broken pencils.

Smitten: To say his room is "aesthetic" would be an understatement. he has it all. Canopy bed with curtains, fairy lights all across the walls, desk for art (yes i hc he likes art), huge mirror next to his closet, scented candles in all corners of his room, you get the idea.

Stubborn: Most of his furniture is broken. His bed is a mattress on the floor because he was getting tired of having to fix or replace his actual bed all the time. His closet contains several weapons and weights and he has a punching bag in the corner of his room where there's supposed to be a desk. There's tons of bloodstains on the floor but he doesn't care.