#classy dangles

[peacelovedragonflies]

Etsy / eBay

[nicoscheer]

[blingschlingers-blog]

Feminine in Filigree

Indulge and delight in this stunning jewelry, being an ideal accessory for any wardrobe; transitioning effortlessly from casual to business to formal with elegance! 

Fashion Style for, Gen-Y Gen-Z Gen-X

Base Metal and Materials - Solid Sterling Silver 

Condition - Pre-owned, Minimal Wear Could Pass as New

Size - 1.25in x 7/8in

Weight - 10.4g approx

Designer - RD

Make the Most of the Amazing Discount Prices on All of our Sterling Silver & Gold Earrings before their gone!  at Blingschlingers.com

[angelindesigner]

Bellybellybellybelly.

I need me a cute one like this. Whoelse loves belly rings?

[sturnioz]

‘THE BEST MAN’ — CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

pairing. christopher sturniolo x fem!reader genre. fluff, smut

word count. 7.1k

❝this is a wedding! i'm trying to be classy today!❞

content warnings. plot with smut, explicit content, sex with a stranger(?), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, bathroom sex, riding, dirty talk,

authors note. not sure if i wrote chris well :/ but first chris fic on the blog yay, i hope you enjoy

You remember the first day you met Jennie: her soft hair curled in waves down her back, the rosy red tint on the apples of her cheeks from the cold weather, and how her smile and eyes gleamed when she introduced her twelve-year-old self to you at the playground. She was dressed in a sage green sweatshirt and jeans, and even though it was a simple outfit choice, you couldn’t deny how gorgeous she looked in it.

You remember the first day you witnessed Jennie suffer through her first heartbreak; her hair thrown up messily with strands framing her face, her eyes were puffy and wet, and her chapped lips were curled into a frown. She had a sage green blanket wrapped around her form as she sat in her room, surrounded by endless amounts of tissues that were scattered from the door to her bed.

It’s crazy, you thought. Even at that moment, she still looked gorgeous.

You remember the first day Jennie had met ‘the one’: her hair tied back into a sleek ponytail, her eyes adorned with glittery makeup, and her lips full and glossy. She wore sage green jewellery that dangled from her ears and around her neck. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink as she locked eyes with a man at the grocery store, and a shy grin formed on her lips as she kept her gaze on his, completely mesmerised by his appearance. Despite her nervousness, she still looked gorgeous.

Today will be another unforgettable day—her wedding day.

You’re captivated by her beauty: her hair is curled in waves down her back, just like the day you first met her, with strands framing her face. Her makeup is light and gentle, her eyes shining with excitement as she patiently waits for the makeup artist to apply the finishing touches. Her body is covered in the most beautiful sage green wedding dress you have ever seen.

“Are you going to cry?” Jennie’s voice teases you as she meets your eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and her bottom lip forms into a playful pout. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying.”

The makeup artist tuts, pointing her brush at you warningly. “No crying.”

You laugh and gently pat under your eyes, hoping not to feel any moisture. “I’m not going to cry. You look gorgeous, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Jennie smiles softly in response to the compliment, expressing her appreciation. She also gives a quiet thanks to the makeup artist who had just finished touching up her face. Jennie leans forward to take a good look at herself in the mirror, pleased with the results. “My mother wasn’t too happy about me going for a coloured theme instead of the traditional white wedding, though.”

“It’s your wedding. You do whatever you want,” You reassure her, briefly glancing down at your silk, cream bridesmaid dress and smoothing your hands over the material. “Sage green has always been your colour, anyways. I would’ve been surprised if it wasn’t included in your wedding.”

Jennie beams in response, “Right! But on top of that, my dad wasn’t happy either. He wanted a traditional wedding in a church… He’s not exactly thrilled to be invited to his only child greenhouse wedding.”

“This wedding is for you and Justin, not your parents,” You say with a straight face, clearly not impressed with her parents' thoughts towards the special day. “If anyone needs to be happy and satisfied, it’s you two.”

“Well, I would be even happier if you brought a date—”

You interject, deadpanning, “Are you seriously bringing this up again?”

“It’s my wedding!” Jennie whines, turning around in her chair to face you with a pout. “How could you not bring a date? What happened to the guy you were speaking to on Tinder? I thought things were going well with him!”

You immediately scoff at the mention of him, shaking your head. “He was completely obsessed with talking about himself that I could barely get a word in, and he was constantly glued to his phone, looking at his ex-girlfriend’s social media posts. Hard pass.”

Jennie purses her lips in deep thought, absentmindedly playing with the end of her curls as she contemplates. You observe her, knowing that look all too well—the look of an idea brewing in her head or a plan already forming. 

You prepare yourself to immediately disagree with whatever she’s about to suggest. However, before anything spills out, the door to the room slides open, revealing Jennie’s mother, who gasps at the sight of her daughter.

Taking it as your cue to give them some privacy, you announce quietly that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air. You briefly greet Jennie’s mother, offering a gentle rub on her arm as you pass by, and allow the door to slide shut behind you. 

You take this as your cue to leave, wanting the two to be alone and experience a moment together. You mumble to Jennie that you’re going to step outside for some fresh air before giving a quick greeting to her mother, rubbing her arm gently as you slip past, allowing the door to slide shut behind you.

The exhale you breathe out is deep, and your heels click against the marble flooring of the building as you make your way outside and into the sun, the warm rays shining down, and you shield your eyes with your hand to block the bright beams. You gaze over at the greenhouse conservatory where guests are mingling outside or taking their seats inside. 

A smile forms on your face as you spot familiar faces, waving to a few old classmates Jennie had invited, and you begin to walk towards them, intending to give them a warm welcome. But as you take a step forward, your right foot twists beneath you, your heel becoming lodged in a crack in the concrete below. 

You smile when you see a few people you recognise, waving at a few old classmates that Jennie had invited and you go to walk towards them to give them all a proper welcome, until your right foot twists beneath you, your heel getting caught in the crack of the concrete below you.

A panicked ‘Holy shit!’ escapes from the side, and a hand reaches out, grabbing hold of your bicep to steady you and prevent any further damage. You wince at the slight twinge of pain in your ankle, but you’re relieved to find that nothing seems to be broken when you look down. You mutter curses under your breath for wearing heels that you’re not used to walking in. 

You turn your head to thank your rescuer, expecting to see them chuckling at your clumsiness, but you’re taken aback when you see a boy with messy, brunette hair staring at you with wide, startled light blue eyes and his mouth agape.

His attractive appearance catches your attention, and since he’s an unfamiliar face, you’re intrigued to know who he is and what connection he might have to the wedding. But before you can utter a word, he breaks the silence between you both.

“You literally almost died.”

Your brow raises in amusement, “That’s a little dramatic.”

“No, I’m dead serious. It was a Final Destination moment waiting to happen. Ankle snapped in half, face smashed to the ground, all mangled, blood everything… I swear, I had the visions, dude.”

You blink, taken aback by his vivid imagination. “You have an interesting way with words.”

The corner of his lips curls into a mischievous grin. “And you have an interesting way of walking.”

“Touché,” You respond, pursing your lips as you glance down at your heels with a soft hum. “I blame them. They’re difficult to walk in.”

He chuckles, his eyes lingering on your heels for a moment, “I mean, I’d be nice and offer to swap but, uh, I don’t think your shoes go with my outfit.”

You playfully raise an eyebrow at him, taking the opportunity to thoroughly check him out. His white dress shirt is neatly tucked into his black trousers, accentuating his slim waist. His black blazer is left unbuttoned, and the matching coloured tie lays clean and ironed against his chest.

You can’t help but grin, “I don’t know… I think you’d look pretty good in a pair of heels.”

He bursts into genuine laughter, a faint blush colouring his cheeks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He then extends his hand towards you, introducing himself as Chris. You smile and take his hand in yours, introducing yourself in return, and the sound of him softly repeating your name sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Chris goes on to explain that he’s one of Justin’s brothers and also one of the best men chosen, mentioning that he’s the youngest triplet. You share with him how you know Jennie and that you’re her only bridesmaid, filling him in on the little details. 

He listens intently as you explain your long-standing friendship with Jennie, smiling warmly at you and even adding his own comments about when he first met her, and how well she and Justin are matched, to which you instantly agree. 

The conversation between you both flows so smoothly that you’re almost shocked, unable to fully understand how you can feel so comfortable and compatible with someone you’ve just met—you more or less wish you had met someone like Chris on Tinder instead.

“I think the ceremony is about to start,” Chris announces, glancing at his phone to check the time and the messages flooding his screen. He pockets his phone and wets his lips, a grin spreading across his face. He extends his arm towards you, offering it to you. “Can I walk you inside? You know, just in case you trip over your heels again or something.”

Feeling a bit shy but unable to contain your own grin, you nod in agreement. You slide your arm through his, your hand resting against his bicep. “Just in case, of course.”

The ceremony unfolded before your eyes, and it became the most beautiful moment you’ve ever witnessed. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you watch Jennie make her way down the white carpeted aisle, arm in arm with her father, and a radiant smile gracing her lips. She looks absolutely stunning.

The second wave of emotion hits you as you witness the love and happiness between Jennie and Justin. Their whispered vows, the tender embrace, and the loving kiss they share leave you and many others in tears. The guests join in with boisterous claps and heartfelt cheers, celebrating their union.

And then the third, and thankfully final, wave of tears washes over you as the triplets take the stage for their best men’s speech. Chris, in his touching words, comments on the beauty of Jennie and the ceremony. Matt chimes in, expressing that in all the years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy, thanking Jennie for the permanent smile on his face. Nick follows suit, expressing his eternal gratitude to her for bringing happiness to his brother’s life.

Third, and thankfully final, wave of waterworks happened when the triplets began their best-men speech, how Chris commented on how beautiful Jennie and the ceremony was, and how Matt was the one to claim that in the many years of being Justin’s brother, he has never seen him this happy and that the permanent smile on his face was all thanks to Jennie, to which Nick followed through and admitted how eternally grateful he would be for her giving his brother his happiness. 

You weren’t going to cry again, although the food served at dinner tasted delicious, and you resist the urge to kneel down and praise the chefs for their outstanding work. Instead, you keep your emotions at bay and thank them as they come to clear the plates from your table.

Tess, a shared friend of yours and Jennie’s, strikes up a conversation with you during dinner, reminiscing on past memories and current. Then her eyes get fixed on the happy couple mingling with Justin’s family, and she comments;

“You know, I always knew Jennie would be the first one from our class to get married. I just didn’t expect it to be with someone slightly older,” Tess smacks her red, painted lips together and takes a sip of her wine, nursing the glass in her hand. “She’s always had this aura about her, you know? Meeting the perfect guy young, falling in love, getting married in her twenties, living in a fancy home with a white picket fence, husband, kids—maybe even a dog or two. God, I wish I had my life planned out like that.” 

You raise an eyebrow and offer a gentle reminder, “Well, nothing is stopping you. How are things going with you and Ryan?”

Tess gives you a look, “Do you see a ring on my hand?”

“Not yet,” A chuckle leaves your lips, pushing Tess’s hand out of your face as she waves it in front of you. 

She laughs, retracting her hand back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “What about you? Have you been seeing anyone recently?”

“No,” You can’t help but sound a bit bitter as you respond, not in the mood to recount the string of disappointing Tinder dates and unsatisfying hookups that have left you feeling frustrated. “I’m going to live a miserable single life. Maybe I’ll get a dog to make me feel less lonely.”

“The last time we spoke, you were seeing Jennie’s cousin, right? Was his name Liam?” His name makes you grimace and Tess snorts, covering her mouth to conceal the rest of her amusement. “Was it that bad?”

“To be fair, he did warn me that us fucking in his apartment would be risky because of his roommate being there.”

Tess’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? Does his roommate never leave the apartment?”

You let out a frustrated wail, frowning at the memory. “No! They share a fucking room. Their beds are literally pressed together, toe to toe!” Tess is unable to control her laughter now, almost spitting her wine across the table as she splutters, but you take no notice as you shiver at the memory. “They turned their perfectly capable extra bedroom into a makeshift gym… it was scary.”

“Please, your dates can’t be all that bad,” Tess says, and you almost break into the story of your much recent date that you had explained to Jennie prior, but your attention is drawn to a soft call of your name. You turn in your seat to see Chris standing behind you, wearing a boyish yet kind grin on his lips.

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to realise that he’s asking if the chairs beside you are free, and you nod dumbly, offering him a smile as you expect him to grab the vacant chair and take it wherever he needs to go. But to your surprise, Chris slides the chair out from beneath the table and sits beside you.

He begins to explain, “Justin and Jennie are talking with her family. Nick is taking pictures, and Matt’s with our parents. It was getting a little boring over there, so I hope you don’t mind me bothering you instead.”

“Not at all,” You smile warmly at him, “The speech was amazing, by the way.”

Tess chimes in without missing a beat, her tone teasing. “She cried,” She nods towards you, and you playfully nudge her with your shoulder. “But she’s right, though. You and your brothers did a great job with the speeches.” 

Chris grins in response, running his fingers through his hair to push the curls away from his face. You can’t help but admire the sight, a desire to reach out and run your own fingers through his locks briefly crossing your mind. But you keep your hands occupied with holding your wine glass, maintaining a respectful distance. 

Tess’s boyfriend, Ryan, soon joins the table, and he immediately strikes up a conversation with Chris. The two of them engage in a series of discussions and topics that leave Chris laughing loudly, unable to keep himself upright, his shoulder brushing against yours every so often, and you can’t help but feel flustered as his warmth radiates towards you.

You are so embarrassingly touch starved. 

As the conversation continues, Ryan suddenly excuses himself, mentioning that he’ll treat the entire table to drinks. Chris offers to accompany him, and he dips his head low in your direction to quietly ask about your drink preference, but Ryan’s hand clamps down on Chris’s shoulder, assuring him that he knows everyone’s favourite drinks. With a firm tug, Ryan pulls Chris towards the bar, leaving you momentarily disappointed and longing for more interactions with him.

Tess observes the duo walking towards the bar, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face. She then shifts her gaze to you and comments, “He’s cute. Like, really cute.”

You nod, a light laugh escaping your lips. “I know,” You admit, your voice filled with amusement. “I actually met him earlier. He saved me from tripping over these heels like an idiot.”

“Wow… so, you literally fell for him.”

“Funny,” You snort, finding her words amusing. Finishing the last sip of your wine, you place the empty glass on the table and wipe the corner of your lips with a napkin. Your attention shifts towards the bar, where Chris and Ryan are engrossed in conversation, both laughing. “Fuck,” You mutter softly. “He really is cute.” 

“Ask for his number,” Tess suggests, “Or bring him home with you later. Keep your bed warm.”

You playfully gasp in response, “This is a wedding! I’m trying to be classy today.”

“Oh, I’m far from classy,” Tess scoffs, sending a sultry look towards Ryan, who meets her eyes from across the room and winks at her. “I almost jumped Ryan outside when I saw him dressed in the suit.”

You burst into laughter at Tess’s comment, but before you can fully respond, Chris and Ryan return back to the table, carrying a tray of drinks. They distribute the beverages, and you patiently wait your turn, smiling at Chris as he takes his seat beside you, holding two glasses of red wine in his hand.

He hands one over to you, “You cool with red wine?”

You hum, taking the glass between your fingers with a smile. “I’m cool.”

Chris returns your smile, his grin widening as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Cool.”

The drinks start to flow through your system, and soon you find yourself becoming increasingly tipsy and talkative. Engaging in lively conversations with the table, the topics range from various subjects to the details of the wedding itself. Jennie and Justin finally join in, accompanied by Nick and Matt.

Chris, too, seems to be in a similar state of tipsiness, becoming more talkative and touchy.

You don’t mind when you feel Chris unintentionally lean against you, his body pressing lightly to yours as he listens intently to Jennie she speaks. He hangs onto her every word, his laughter filling the air whenever Justin interjects with a joke or flirty comment, or when Matt and Nick chime in with their own commentary.

During this interaction, you can’t help but notice how animated Chris becomes when he speaks. His hands are in constant motion, emphasising his points, clapping them together, or even slamming them down on surfaces when something particularly funny is said.

You’re taken aback when Chris dramatically sighs in response to one of his brothers’ teasing and drops his hands, unintentionally resting them on your thigh. The warmth of his palm against your skin and the gentle tapping of his fingers send a rush of sensations through you. It’s a moment that catches your full attention, leaving you unsure of how to react.

Chris seems oblivious to what he’s done, perhaps too caught up in the conversation or the effects of the drinks. You contemplate whether to subtly let him know or allow the touch to continue, as you find yourself enjoying the comforting and slightly arousing sensation. It feels nice, and a part of you doesn’t want it to end.

You bite back any type of response or comment, and you hide your grin behind the rim of your wine glass, taking a sip while ignoring Tess’s lingering gaze and her teasing nudge against your side. Jennie also catches on quickly, wiggling her eyebrows in your direction before leaning into Justin’s ear to whisper something.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Justin gazes at you, likely picking up on the situation as well.

The attention shifts away from the two of you and back to the ongoing conversation, allowing you to exhale deeply, relieved that the focus has been diverted. 

However, Chris notices your sigh and leans in close, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers in concern. “You good? Did you have too much to drink or something?”

You turn to face him with a smile, assuring him, “I’m okay.” His worry immediately fades as he returns your smile. 

Just as he’s about to say something else, a small movement causes his hand to shift on your lap. Chris’s head drops down, his eyes widening comically as he realises where his hand has been this entire time.

“Oh shit,” He slowly withdraws his hand, “Oh. Wow. Damn. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” You interrupt, wanting to ease any embarrassment or discomfort he may be feeling. You gather your courage and place your hand on top of his, causing his hand to settle back onto your thigh. You notice his throat bob as he swallows, his eyebrow twitching as his gaze shifts between your hands and your eyes. Wanting to reassure him, you repeat, “It’s okay.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Chris asks, and despite wanting to make sure you were fully okay with the situation, he turns his hand beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching with the urge to intertwine.

But you take the initiative and lace your fingers together, holding his hand firmly in your grasp. Chris bites down on his cheek and glances away, unable to hide the goofy smile that spreads across his lips, and his grip tightens on your hand, his thumb gently grazing across your knuckles. he turns his hand around beneath yours, palm to palm, his fingers twitching against your own as he was desperate to lace them together, but it was you who took that initiative.

“Oh. I love this song!” Jennie exclaims loudly at the sound of a familiar song playing in the venue, drawing everyone's attention to the dance floor. She pulls Justin up with her and looks over at you. “You coming?”

You find yourself torn between wanting to dance and not wanting to let go of Chris’s hand just yet, and a sense of selfishness washes over you.“You go dance together. I’m going to finish up my drink.”

Jennie smirks and sends a sly wink your way before she and Justin make their way to the dance floor. Meanwhile, Ryan stands up with Tess on his arm and asks Chris if he’s coming too. Chris hesitates for a moment before declining, his hand subtly squeezing yours beneath the table, a small gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Ryan shrugs and accepts Chris’s decision, along with Matt and Nick, as they all head towards the dance floor. Nick, in particular, cranes his head back towards you and Chris, giving his brother a cheesy thumbs up to which you almost snort at.

As you watch the guests on the dance floor, a feeling of warmth fills your heart. The happiness radiates from the people around you, especially Jennie and Justin, who are wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing whispered words and sweet kisses.

Lost in your observation, you fail to notice Chris trying to get your attention amidst the music. It’s only when he leans in close, his voice hushed, that you become aware of his attempt to talk to you. Struggling to hear him, you lean in ever closer, feeling a shiver run down your neck as his warm breath brushes against your skin. He asks if he can have your number.

For a quick moment, you’re stunned by his request, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. However, you quickly regain your composure and nod your head in agreement, a smile forming on your lips. Chris wastes no time, swiftly retrieving his phone from his pocket with his free hand as the other remains intertwined with yours.

He hands you his phone, already unlocked and ready for you to put in your number. You can’t help but smile even wider as you type in your name and number, playfully adding a heart emoji to your contact information. Chris grins upon seeing it, and you notice in surprise that he doesn’t even attempt to remove the heart or replace it with a different emoji. He simply shuts off his phone and pockets it, leaving the heart intact.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you bask in each other’s company, listening to the music, watching others dance and mingle around you. You’re typically the first one on the dance floor, letting the rhythm and the music move you. But right now, you’re content sitting beside the cute boy with your hands locked together. 

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you decide to break the silence as you ask, “So, how come you didn’t want to dance?” You glance at him, taking a sip of your wine..

“I’m fine right here,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Why didn’t you want to dance?”

You muster up the courage to be bold with your answer, “Because I didn’t want to let go of your hand.”

“Wow,” Chris’s laughter fills the air, and he unconsciously swipes his tongue across his bottom lip as he tries to conceal his obvious grin. “You’re bold,” He says. “You kind of make me feel nervous sometimes.”

Raising an eyebrow, you press,, “A good nervous or a bad nervous?”

Chris exhales deeply, a genuine smile finally breaking through as he meets your gaze, “A really good nervous,”

Feeling more confident in yourself, you lean in closer to Chris, pressing your side against his. He laughs and allows you to do as you please, his fingers squeezing around your own in response. The close proximity between you both makes him feel a little hot beneath the collar.

Lost in the moment and distracted by you, Chris forgets that he’s still holding his glass in his other hand. As your face draws closer, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip, he accidentally loosens his grip on the stem of the glass when your nose brushes against his. 

The drink spills over his lap, causing him to let out a surprised noise and jerk back in shock. He quickly releases your hand to grab the now half-empty glass, staring at the mess he’s created, a slight pink hue colouring his cheeks.

Chris is clearly embarrassed, sitting in stunned silence, not uttering a single word as he assesses the damage. Meanwhile, you gasp loudly, your hand flying to cover your mouth in shock.

Apologies spill out of you in rapid speed as you realise the consequences of your actions, blaming yourself for diverting Chris’s attention and causing the spill. You hastily grab a napkin from the table, tapping his lap in an attempt to dry his pants, all while continuing to whisper your sorrys. Despite the fact that his pants are black and won’t show a stain, you still feel responsible and guilty. 

Chris’s eyes widen as he watches you, body frozen and his mouth dry as he feels your touch pressing against him. He’s unable to move or speak, caught off guard when he feels you press against his cock. It’s only when you start to wipe that he finally reacts, snatching your wrist in his grasp and emitting a choked groan.

“I’m good,” He strains, his voice tight as he tries to regain his composure. You immediately pull back once you realise how you were touching him. Embarrassed, you remain silent, unable to meet his eyes as you look away, avoiding any further interaction despite the thought of making him hard just from some mere touching leaves an ache between your legs, and you press your thighs together as you clear your throat.

Desperate to change the topic or find an escape route from the embarrassment, you suggest getting Chris another drink, glancing at his half-empty glass and then at the bar. However, Chris interrupts you before you can finish your offer, coughing and shaking his head. 

“No, it’s good, you’re fine,” He insists, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, pulling at his blazer to hide the bulge forming in his pants. “I’m, like, sorry… by the way.”

Quickly, you reassure him that he doesn’t need to apologise, taking the blame upon yourself for distracting him and causing the drink to spill.

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Chris cuts you off once again, making it clear that he’s referring to something else entirely. You swallow thickly, realising what he’s alluding to, and you shake your head, wanting to assure him that it’s okay. However, he continues, stumbling over his words. “I’m talking about me—okay, shit, look. It just happens, you know, and when you were touching me—”

You interrupt him this time, “It’s flattering, really,” you admit with a small chuckle to escape. “It’s fine, I promise. I’m sorry for touching you, though. I was only trying to help… and I understand that it's a totally normal reaction, so don’t worry. It’s cute.”

Chris stares at your face in silence for a moment before responding in a lighthearted tone. “Did you just call me getting hard cute?”

You grimace at your choice of words, “Pretend you didn’t hear that. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Before you can start rambling and making excuses for your mistake, your voice trails off as you feel Chris’s hand slide back into yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, and you bite back a gasp as he gently guides your intertwined hands back to his lap, causally resting the back of your hand against the bulge in his pants. It makes your head spin.

You need him—no, you want him. 

The thoughts that run through your mind and the needy ache between your legs has you desperate to be touched, to be fucked, all by him.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” You announce, noticing the rejected look on Chris’s face as he loosens his hold on your hand. However, you quickly tighten your grip, not wanting to let go. “Do you want to come with me?”

Chris looks confused. “What? To the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Do you, like, need help peeing or something?” Chris asks, unsure of your intentions.

“No, I don’t need to pee,” You can’t help but laugh, causing Chris to give you a puzzled look. Your attention is fully on him now, your eyes dark and tone sultry. “I just really want to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh…” Chris blinks, his eyebrows knitting together as he’s even more confused. But then, it all seems to dawn on him what you’re hinting towards, and his eyebrows raise slightly. “Oh.”

“So,” Your voice is laced with anticipation. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me?”

Chris nods eagerly, his grip on your hand tightening. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You pull Chris up from his seat as soon as he gives you the confirmation you’ve been waiting for and you navigate through the crowded dance floor, heading towards the bathroom area. 

Chris is hot on your heels, his hand still tightly clasped in yours, and almost tripping over his own shoes due to the speed you’re walking in, and him trying to keep up with you, ensuring not to stray too far from each other.

Unbeknownst to you, Justin and Jennie watch with amused smirks on their faces, exchanging celebratory fist bumps before sharing a sweet kiss of their own.

Finally reaching the bathroom area, Chris chuckles deeply as you yank him inside a vacant stall, closing and locking the door behind you. He takes in his surroundings first—the clean white marbled floor and walls painted with green vines.

“Wow,” Chris murmurs, seemingly impressed. “This bathroom is actually pretty neat—what are you doing?”

Your fingers are pulling at the buttons on his pants as you simply state, “I’m going to suck you off.”

“Yeah?” Chris hums, licking at his lips as he watches you drop to your knees, and his eyebrows pull together in concern when he notices your bridesmaid dress is wrinkling and losing its pristine condition. “What about your dress?”

“You’re worried about my dress? That’s cute,” You smile up at him. You free his cock from his trousers and boxers, and you wrap your fingers around the base which causes him to hiss through his teeth at the contact. “I don’t really care about my dress right now. All I care about is making you feel good.”

“Alright,” Chris slumps down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks down at you with hazy vision. “Go on. Do what you want.”

The moment he gives you the permission, you take him into your mouth, and a string of curse words leaves his lips, running his fingers through his hair as he stares down at you.

His cock feels hot and heavy on your tongue, and you take him down your throat, sucking him in and squeezing your fingers around the base that you struggle to fit all the way into your mouth. He’s big, bigger than you expected, and it drives you wild—the ache in between your legs becoming almost unbearable, but you want to play with him a little longer, to taste him more. 

With Chris watching you through lidded eyes, it fuels you to put on a show for him, and that’s exactly what you do. You pull back, close your lips around his tip, sucking and using your tongue around his sensitive head. He’s panting above you, a throaty moan leaving him when you take him deeper into your mouth, jerking him off with each twist of your fist. 

“You can touch me,” You remind him, a string of spit connecting from your lips to the tip of his cock when you move back to catch your breath. “Touch me, Chris.”

“Man, you’re insane,” Chris laughs deeply, and his hand comes down to rest on the back of your head. His fingers thread your through hair, gripping at the roots as he pushes you further down on his cock, and you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat so suddenly. But you breathe steadily through your nose, hollowing your cheeks around him, drool seeping past your lips. “Fucking filthy girl.”

You hum around his cock at his words, and you shuffle closer to kneel better between his open legs. The slight sting on your scalp from his tight grip on your hair urges you to do better, to give him everything you've got. The burn in the back of your throat is pleasurable and you moan, causing his hips to jerk forward at the vibration, and you take him in deeper. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Chris grunts, pushing your head down. “Fuck. Just like that—god.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop, and you use your hand to jerk him off as your glossy lips form into a sweet smile. “You’re noisy, you know.”

“What do you expect?” Chris hums with a lighthearted laugh, and his hand comes down from the top of your head to caress your cheek, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “I got a pretty girl on her knees in front of me sucking my cock, the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Your heart swells in your chest as you repeat, “Pretty girl?”

“Yeah,” Chris nods, grinning down at you. “The prettiest, ma.”

The choked groan that leaves him when you let go of his cock almost makes you take him into your hands again, but you’re too needy for him now—desperate to be filled by him.

Usually, you would scold yourself for allowing such a bare minimum compliment to get you so hot and bothered, but you didn’t care, not when it sounded so fucking good coming from him.

Chris watches with wild eyes as you yank your underwear down your legs, discarding them to the side and bunching the hem of your dress up to your waist as you ease yourself down on his lap. One of his hands comes to rest at your hip, and the other grips your jaw, finally bringing you in for a first kiss.

The kiss is sweet at first—soft and delicate, and Chris even takes a moment to lean back to gaze at your face with a small grin on his face. The grip he has on your jaw tightens a little, causing your lips to pucker up and he hums, nose brushing against yours before he claims your lips again.

This time, it’s more frantic. You’re biting at his bottom lip, his tongue dips into your mouth, teeth clashing, and his hands move to fist the material of your dress, bunching it higher over your hips as your own hand dips between your body to line his cock at your entrance, and you sink down onto him.

Chris grunts into your mouth while you moan, the feeling of him filling you so deep making your toes curl. Your arms wind around his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you leisurely bounce on his lap, and Chris’s grip is tight on your hips as he thrusts up into you.

He’s kissing you breathless, and you’re too drunk on his lips and cock to pull away for air. You lace your fingers through his curls as you fuck youtself down on him, putting all of your energy in riding him and it’s Chris that breaks the kiss to curse loudly with a moan, panting as he stares at you with wide eyes and red, swollen lips.

“You feel good,” Chris grunts. You clamp around him, whining softly at his compliment. “Fuck, ma… you’re so fucking tight f’me.”

“You’re being noisy again.” You repeat from before in a teasing tone, even though you’re not particularly quiet yourself. You’re unable to keep your noises at a minimum as you moan loudly when he matches the rhythm of your hips.

Chris laughs, “Shut up.”

Admittedly, you like the way he sounds edging closer and closer to release, and you would like to relish in the sound a little more, but when you hear the bathroom door suddenly open, your eyes widen as your hand flies down from his hair to slap over his mouth to silence him. Chris stares up at you in alarm as someone walks into the stall beside yours.

You’re still lifting and dropping yourself back down on him, and he’s still fucking up into you to keep the pace despite not wanting to get caught. But you’re thankful that whoever is beside you has flushed the toilet the second you let out a wail when his cock hits a spot within you, and Chris is quick to silence you too, pressing his hand over your own mouth and staring into your eyes. 

You’re both panting heavily behind each other’s hands, and you can make out the sound of water running from the sink tap before it shuts off, then the bathroom door opens and creaks shut behind them, leaving you both alone once again.

Still, neither of you move your hand, still keeping each other silent despite the muffled noises you’re both making.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, and you wonder if Chris feels the same. You get the answer when his eyes roll to the back of his head as he groans, his hand falling from your mouth to hold your waist and pull you down onto him.

As your hand moves from his mouth to touch his face, Chris finally speaks, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too,” You agree, exhaling deeply. “Cum. Cum inside me.”

The corner of Chris’s lips twitch upwards, “Yeah? You want that?” 

You nod eagerly, “Yes. Please. Fill me up.”

“Fuck, alright.” Chris grunts, lurching forwards to slot his lips over yours, and his tongue dips into your mouth, gliding with yours as he cums deep within. He keeps moving you against him to reach your own high, and you wail as your orgasm hits you, convulsing around his cock as you hump his lap.

You’re heavily heavily, desperate to catch your breath as you break away from his lips, and he leaves messy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. His hands loosen on your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest and yours slide around his shoulders, fingers threading through his hair as your body trembles.

It’s silent between you both as you embrace each other, and Chris is still kissing your neck with his hands rubbing your back comfortingly, and you melt into his arms. You feel relaxed and content, even though you should be both cleaning yourself up and leaving before anyone else could walk in.

“Just so you know, I don’t do this,” Chris mumbles in the crevice of your neck. Your eyebrows knit together, and you arch back to look at his face, and he smiles at your confused expression. “I mean, like, meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. I don’t do that.”

“I don’t either,” You admit, chewing your bottom lip. “I usually go on at least one date before I do that.”

“Noted,” Chris grins sluggishly. “I’ll take you next time.”

His nonchalant tone makes your heart flutter, and you wonder if he knows what he has just said to you, and if he’s serious on potentially seeing you again. You want to question it, or at least have him repeat it, but you keep your lips pressed together when you notice Chris’s attention is brought to the décor of the stall like it was the first time he came in.

“This bathroom is really nice, though. I wonder if Matt and Nick know about this.”

© sturnioz

[monimccoythings]

Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)

This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.

This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.

Tw: mentions of death

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.

The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.

You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.

He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.

Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.

Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.

When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.

Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)

Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.

Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.

It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.

You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Huge, broody and terribly lonely older farmer König who pervs on the cute, new, young farmhand girl he hired :((

He kinda expected a cocky young man or a middle aged cranky woman but did expect this sweet little thing to chirp up at him and smile like she's the sun :(( would definitely jerk off to the fantasy of making her his housewife, the farmowner's lady and breeding her good with his babies like the perfect stud he is♡

OhGOD

CW: 18+ ONLY Lonely, pervy farmer!König masturbating at the sight of his young farmhand miss strolling on the farm on her day off :) {implied sexism}

Imagine him expecting a cocky young man he needs to yell at for being on his phone instead of feeding the pigs or whatever, or expecting some muscled, cranky, older lady who knows how to do their job but who would nag at him about stupid things such as not keeping the house clean enough.

Instead, he’s met with a cute, classy young woman at the gate, a meek little thing who stares at him, eyes wide just from the sight of how big he is, lips parting just from taking in his shoulders and the furious furrow of his brow. Her lashes flutter as she extends her hand to greet him, explaining that she may look like a city girl but she can assure that she is a hard-working woman who grew up on a small farm and has recently begun to miss the country way of life.

She has soft hands, soft lips, soft everything, and he knows he’s fucked. She’s everything he has ever hoped for, everything he ever wanted but could never have.

He tries to appear more gentle and less menacing because he doesn’t want to scare her away. Any other spineless, soft young thing he would've thrown out before even letting them stay for the trial period of two weeks – but this little beauty? She can stay, if just for a while.

She’s probably not used to hard work, no matter what she claims; her hands look far too smooth and dainty for the hauling and carrying and raking and cleaning that's required here. He almost feels bad when sending her to do her chores, but she manages the place surprisingly well, and when it’s her day off she wanders around the farm in a cute summer dress, chewing on the hay that dangles from her mouth, leaning on the wooden fence and enjoying the view. There's a wide brim straw hat on her head, and she has to hold it with one hand because it’s so big and floppy that it threatens to cover her eyes. The dress hugs her form just right and has a large, puffy hem that reveals a lovely pair of bare legs, legs that would feel heavenly when wrapped around his hard middle, legs he would make soft and quivering and weak with multiple, tear-inducing orgasms.

She’s a sight for sore eyes, and his dick is hard in a second; there’s really nothing he can do about it.

Usually, he jerks himself off quickly in the morning before rising from the bed, sullen and already grumpy because the only thing that ever sees his love is the cold, cum-stained sheets. The only warm thing ever wrapped around his cock is his own hand, beating the needy flesh in anger and despair because he missed the odd chance of ever seducing a woman to live on this lonely, remote farm with him.

Now he at least has something nice to look at while taking the heavy cock out of his work pants. He’s looking through the window like some perverted stalker; looking at the cutest, most condescending and naive woman on earth, walking on his property like the pretty little decoration she is.

She has all the traits of a perfect housewife: she could cook and bake for him while he does the hard work, she could do the laundry and look nice inside his big old house, finally bringing some much-needed joy and softness into his life. He would make her happy every night: it might take a while to bully his cock into her, but she would eventually like the ugly act; he would make sure of that.

He could eat her stupid little cookings, no doubt healthy and wholesome and lovingly homemade – and he could eat her out come evening. She must taste like the sweetest dessert down there. He would pay for her services in full, he would make it worth her while to be the perfect little wife, he would take care of her and buy her a thousand dresses like the one she wears, if she only warmed his bed at night...

He knows he’s a pervert and a freak, not only a freak of nature with his outrageous height and broad shoulders, but a freak of mind as well. He knows she would wince in disgust if she were to turn around and look at what’s happening behind the window: she would raise that delicate hand on her lips and gasp in shock if she were to see him fapping his drooling cock while watching her in that lush dress, so sweet and innocent and pure.

He can't see it now, but he knows there are beads of sweat gathering between those fragile little collarbones of hers. It's the hottest summer since the year he was born, and he knows the sweat is currently travelling down between those perfect breasts, held plush and perky by that dress he wants to rip to shreds. He would lick that sweat from between her tits and make her moan and tug his head from doing so if she would only let him. His balls pull taut, they almost jump at the thought, and the precum makes the end of the wank a slicky, noisy business.

He’s a bastard and a dog for not even bothering to reach for a piece of paper or a towel, deciding he can just shoot his cum on the window and make her clean it afterwards.

He wonders if the cute little miss will faint when she realizes what he has done... He wonders if the innocent young lady even knows it's loads of cum she's wiping away.

[somewhereincairparavel]

What would the seven wear? - Fashion Style analysis ( HOO Girls Ver.)

as a kid I used to want to be a fashion designer so making this post healed my inner child <3 enjoy ~

HAZEL LEVESQUE - okay okay omgg this girl would have the best fashion sense out of all of them (imo) because she is influenced by SO many fashion aesthetics, like her style would be vintage and modern at the same time! I feel like she would love long flowy dresses because it was the most common clothing women would wear in the 40's, she would love floral patterns sm because they are so cheery and it lightens her mood, this would bring out her "adorable" style more. also. JACKETS. this girl is OBESSED with jackets and cardigans, particularly in the colors brown and black. Overall her style is a mix of cheery, cute but she has that pluto edge to her style aswell with the jackets.

PIPER MCLEAN- honestly as much as she would hate to admit it, i feel like Piper would LOVE pink, pale pink takes up the majority of her palette. Her style is very youthful and it's a mix of rebel indie kid and soft coquette core. LOVES LOVES LOVES denim shorts, they are like a must in her wardrobe. Also, She loves jewelry, whether it be tassel earrings, beady bracelets and necklaces, rings etc. like she defo cares more about accessorizing than the actual clothing. she wears baggy white shirts a lot for some reason, but it suits her so well. Crop tops are a must, specifically pink or purple ones with a cute image on it, remember she wore a hello kitty crop top? yeah like that. I feel like her style is the most fresh and childlike without it being over the top, it is so cute. i love her style sm.

ANNABETH CHASE- Annabeth's style is super elegant tbh, she LOVES wearing grey, orange and white imo, also, i feel like she LOVES light blue/dark blue jeans. Ofc Annabeth loves caps, its like super dear to her, she doesn't have a specific "style" she just loves changing it a lot. Annabeth LOVES long dresses especially if they are white/warm brown. Her style is just super chill and modern. Percy is down bad when she wears baggy shirts tho cuz she slays so hard in them Annabeth loves knitted lace jackets because it gives off very homely vibes. Overall her style is super authentic and fresh tbh.

REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO- i have a feeling that reyna would love dressing up. it brings her comfort, she was the hairdresser in circe's island after all, Reyna is just straight up royal core. she likes wearing corsets, and silk gowns, Her color palette is gold, black, white, violet, and dark maroon tbh. Reyna LOVES large gold earrings that just dangle y'know? it makes her feel and look regal. She also loves circlets that you wear on the head. uggh she has got that roman classiness y'know. Super fancy and enjoys wearing long robes and skirts, i love my fancy shmancy queen <3

[christopher067]

OPULENT / NECKLACE + EARRINGS

hellooooo so today I have succcch a fun set that includes a stunning colorful diamond pendant Cuban link chain necklace annnd matching dangling earrings! I am in love with how these turned out !! These feel very regal and classy to me I just love em. Alsooo I did try a new technique with the way I baked the metal textures for these, I don't think anyone will notice but me lol buuut I am so proud of this new style! I hope you love this set!! ✨

Necklace

8 Metal Tones + 7 Diamond Colors

New Mesh by Me

Custom Thumbnail

HQ Mod Compatible

Does NOT have morphs

Earrings

8 Metal Tones + 7 Diamond Colors

New Mesh by Me

Custom Thumbnail

HQ Mod Compatible

DOWNLOAD NECKLACE (TSR)

DOWNLOAD EARRINGS (TSR)

♡

If you use my content be sure to tag me, #christopher067 or @christopher067

If you want to edit my creations check my T.O.U. ♡

[blackdollette]

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒌𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒂 & 𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒐…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: female!reader x r!euronymous + kappa

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 580

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: spitroasting, blowjob, unprotected p in v, creampie, facial

you drowned in the smell of sweat followed by the slight tang of blood. fast and painful thrusts discoloured the soft flesh of your ass just a tinge, an equally fast thrusting causing your throat to bulge and throb. you gazed up at kappa, your big and teary eyes begging for just a second of relief while secretly hoping he would never stop. he groaned deeply, his lip tightly tucked underneath his teeth as he slapped your chin with his balls.

the headboard of the bed banged against the wall with each synchronized thrust. ���c’mon man, she puffing up like a blowfish. you don’t wanna kill her, do you?” euronymous taunted as his calloused thumb tortured your puffy clit. it was ironic that he said that when he was the one who was rearranging your guts, making sure your pussy would remember every vein, curve and crevice of his cock for days, even weeks to come. kappa snickered. “i’m not worried about her. our princess can take it…”

euronymous was a classy man, still wearing his leather jacket with his jeans to his knees whilst he fucked you. while kappa was stripped naked to the bone, his loaded cannon playing peek-a-boo with your esophagus and nearly meeting euronymous’ cock on the other side. he had a fistful of your dark hair in his grip, watching thick bubbles of spit and precum cascade down your neck.

your tight pussy clenched around euro’s girth, pleading for him to keep his rabid pace. “you want this cock real bad don't you, angel?” he tossed his head back as your gummy walls swallowed him whole. “‘ts all yours, baby… all fuckin’ yours.”

though kappa wasn’t speaking much, his actions spoke louder than any word he could manage to say. with every thrust, slap and push from him was followed by a gag, whimper or spit from you. his hips ground into your mouth as he brutally fucked your face, your throat bruising quickly from the friction but being soothed by the precum that lubricated his path.

euronymous toyed with your pussy from behind, trailing his thumb up and down your wet slit as it swelled from overstimulation. your back arched as you pushed your hips into his, wanting to feel him in every part of you. 

the men groaned out slurred profanities in unison as your body contracted from the pleasure. you flicked your tongue along kappa’s tip, your pussy pulsating around euronymous. kappa forced your jaw open a little more, wanting to make a lasting impact on his final blow.

euronymous pushed your legs even further apart, cum spilling down the inside of your thighs as your limbs began to tremble. your eyes slammed shut, all your senses becoming disabled as your were hit by a wave of pleasure so unbearable that you became winded. euronymous’ nails dug into your flesh as he landed one last thrust, your hole swelling from being filled up like a sweet, creamy dessert.

as kappa was about to reach his climax, he whipped his cock out of your mouth, shooting his strings onto your face and aiming specifically for your dangling tits. you collapsed onto the mattress, mind buzzing as you felt your insides pouring out of you.

the feeling was so divine, so surreal that you found yourself wondering if the moment really happened. but your assumptions were confirmed when you felt one soft pair of lips kiss your cheek softly, but nothing from the other.

[dotster001]

Hi lovely! May I ask for the twisted wonderland dorm leaders reaction to piercings. (Nipples, septum, lip, industrial, bridge etc))

A/N: I wasn't sure if you meant on reader or them....so I did all of the above! Hopefully I hit what you were looking for 😂

3k masterlist

CW: religious fear in Riddle's part, but it's an if you know you know kind of thing 😂 😭

 In general, Riddle will always start out as anti piercing. His mother raised him that piercings are from the devil (or the devil equivalent in twst) and should be ever pierce his body with a needle, he would be thrown in the fiery flames for all eternity. So…he's anti piercing

That said, if he had to pick one he wanted, he'd go for a navel piercing. That way, the gods (and his mother) would never know he had it. He'd probably go for a simple ruby.

He doesn't react too much to piercings on other people. He just never thinks about it, even though he's always thinking about it for himself. So your piercings wouldn't phase him.

He's simplistic. A favorite piercing he'd have for you, is a simple nose stud. Maybe a ruby to match his hypothetical navel stud.

I'm totally blanking on what he looks like, but if he doesn't have piercings now, he will as soon as he's out of the public eye. Once Cheka is of age, he knows no one will care about the "delinquent second born" and he's free to do what he wants without judgment.

He'd go for a single stud on one side, a nose ring, a navel ring, and probably one lip piercing so that it glitters when he smirks.

He doesn't care if you have piercings. Obviously, it's sexy as hell if you do, but whatever, it's your life.

His favorite on you is, surprisingly, a basic earring. He likes to gently pull them with his teeth when he's feeling particularly flirty or needy.

He won't have piercings ever. It would affect his businessman facade. That said….if he ever got a piercing, he would want a single dangle earring so he can match the twins. Maybe a conch shell?

Another one who doesn't mind it on you. And his favorite one you? Tongue piercing. Not that he'll ever admit it…because it's his favorite due to him liking the feel against his tongue when your tongue is down his throat…the taste of iron filling his senses along with your signature smell….ahem. He uh he means he likes a typical earring on you. yup yup.

Pierced everywhere. He likes shiny things. There was no stopping him.

He would like you pierced top to bottom, so that he can shower you in even more gold and jewels. He loves to see you shimmer, and hear you jangle. Piercings just add to it. 

But if he had to choose a favorite spot, it's regular lobe and cartilage piercings on your ears. Then he can still see the shimmer 😁 he loves to decorate along your ears with chains and jewels, thinks it's so pretty

He has regular ear piercings. I'm sorry, a man who looks that hot in red heels is ready to wear a set of pearl drop earrings at a moments notice. He's modeled a hundred sexy looks in those hypothetical earrings, and you can't tell me otherwise. Maybe he takes them out for school so that when his fellow students decide to get in a fight, he doesn't have to hand them to Rook Everytime.

He wants you in pearl earrings to….just saying. He thinks you'll be so pretty, so professional, with a set of pearls; pearl choker, pearl bracelet, pearl earrings (does this feed into his desire to dress you like a doll? Maybe)

Out of everyone, he's the one who would get nipple piercings. Probably after watching some anime where the tough guy had gold nipple hoops. Subtle but enough of a character design that Idia snuck past Ortho to go get some himself.

He's gonna think any piercings you have are sexy. Nipple piercings? Bad ass. Navel? Show him that tummy. Lip piercing? Kiss him. I mean what?

Man wears black classy earrings. Doesn't really branch out, but that's fine. He looks hot.

He loves if you have piercings. It adds to his delusions about you, like "look at my rebellious little human". Mal Mal, it's just a nose ring? It's a common piercing in many cultures? Not a big deal? He's never gonna hear you over his delusions, babe

His fave on you? Navel and nipple. Because our Victorian man thinks seeing either is such a scandalous treat, and sends a thrill down his spine. Such intimate places, and he gets to see them! How thrilling! Humans are so brave these days!

[kissitbttr]

i just had this shower thought but i just know that muñeca will be everyone’s fav wag when frat!mig makes it into the nfl😩 like i imagine her being an ABSOLUTE icon (it girl energyyy) having edits of her LIKE UGHHH ! what would be migs thoughts about this??

miguel bagged the baddest bitch of all time, everyone knows this!!!

she’s definitely the it girl without even trying!! if anything, she tries to step away from the spotlight as much as possible! one of the things that made her famous aside being nfl!miguel’s girl is that her fits goes HAAARDDD. she could dress up or dress down. classy or casual. glamorous or laid back. anything!

i would like to think that one of her moments that went viral was when she attended his first game. when the other WAGs were dressing up for the occasion, she was there in his old college jersey and her jeans. hoops dangling in her ears with one leg up in the chair, just sipping on her cocktail in a plastic cup. she didn’t realize the camera was on her because she was far too fixated on the game.

it was a simple moment but that didn’t stop the whole world to be in love with miguel o’hara’s girlfriend! not only is she drop dead gorgeous but funny too!

“your boyfriend, miguel o’hara did amazing out there! he scored a touchdown! how do you feel about that?”

“man tbh, I didn’t really see it. just came here for the food and drinks. but good for him though”

the whole interview was funny af. some audience loves her sense of humor while others don’t. but she doesn’t gives a shit. she knows its all jokesy jokes. she’s proud of miguel’s achievements. she knew all of the hard work he’s put in to be here. and she did cheer really loud when he TDed,

her popularity only seem to be increasing when another baddest bitch in the game, Rihanna reached out to her personally and they become friends! muñeca was fangirling obviously, but she’s not going to let badgalriri knows otherwise she’d be embarrassed. especially not the really hot dream she had with Riri back in college,

miguel notices the amount of attention his girl is getting and he feels this sort of pride in him knowing that she really stole everyone’s hearts by absolutely doing nothing major. just like she did to his back in junior year. he knows his girlfriend is a heartstopper. everyone’s crush. obviously. he doesn’t forget the time where he had to compete with other guys lining up to be her man on campus.

muñeca is not just a pretty face but her heart is pure. I think that’s one of the reasons why people are loving her. you’ll hear from other people talking from miguel’s team, the fans, reporters, close friends, employees etc that she’s nothing but a sweetheart. not one bad thing to say about her🥺🥺

and the tiktok edits?? MAAANN, her edits are beating his by mileeesss!! he gets jealous here and there though. not because his edits are decreasing but mainly because everyone is falling for his girl and giving her so much attention that he just wants her all to himself,

he’s proud of her. not because of the trophy wife thing people are making it out to be but she’s just as successful as him! she has her own ballet studio, have her own classes to teach, friends with rihanna, bella hadid, getting offers from vogue, calvin klein, and shared partnerships with a few of famous designers. the late karl lagerfeld, alexander mcqueen, swarovski, donatella versace to name a few,

to everyone, she is indeed an icon. timeless being. but miguel had already seen that one coming before all of this happened🤍

[ddarker-dreams]

the yan hxh character's favorite types of styles on you.

(warning for some not SFW implications/reader described as fem)

chrollo loves you in classy, elegant, yet formfitting outfits that highlight the silhouette of your body. slim blazers, short pencil skirts, sheer tights, pumps. will be smiling happily to himself if you struggle with heels since you're forced to cling to him, or trip. purposefully gets outfits that are difficult for you to put on by yourself (like having a zipper in the back) so you must begrudgingly call upon him for assistance.

pretends he 'forgot' to include some pants or shorts as potential options but it was 100% intentional. don't believe his lies. he loves anything that reveals your collarbones but not if you're going out. only he gets to see them, no one else. he mostly goes for neutral colors with a heavy emphasis on black, ivory, beige, navy, and sometimes burgundy if he's feeling a bit wild.

as far as accessories go, he favors dangling earrings and choker-length necklaces. you don't get to wear watches anymore because when he last gifted you one, you kept checking it every time he started talking, and it kinda hurt his feelings. he is a fan of you putting your hair up because he loves admiring the muscles of your neck and it grants him easier access for kissing.

(phinks, feitan, machi and paku under the cut)

phinks originally gives you some t-shirts and sweatpants because hell if he knows how to dress a woman. he doesn't want you thinking he's some pervert that kidnapped you purely for sexual gratification — no, there's a deeper connection he's trying to foster with you here. that being said... if he could have it his way, his biggest fantasy is having you wear those tennis outfits. preferably with white or pink colors. he just thinks you'd look really cute. the short, pleated skirt brushing against your thighs, tight polo shirt, a pair of high top tennis shoes; he'd be in heaven. phinks will want to scoop you up and twirl you around or some other romantic-sounding shit.

doesn't really have any preferences when it comes to accessories. his biggest thing is in the colder seasons, seeing you wrapped up in a scarf is super endearing. it makes his heart almost beat out of his chest. jewelry isn't a big deal to him. he'll gift you a fair amount because he figures Woman = Want Shiny Thing (as if you're a crow), but it doesn't do much for him visually. aside from stud earrings with simple designs, like a flower or moon. he thinks that's pretty cute.

feitan doesn't think about fashion much. he literally wears the same thing every day and only washes his bloodstained jacket if you ask nicely (aka plead). he gets you some long shirts and calls it a day. when you ask if you can have shorts or anything similar to that, he silently stares at you. unlike chrollo, it really didn't occur to him. if he's in a good mood he'll pick up what you asked for. probably gets an uncomfortable material or the wrong size but it isn't out of spite, he genuinely has no idea what he's doing.

he discovers by accident that the sight of you in a sheer nightgown is especially appealing. other than that, the only preference he's aware of is seeing you in light colors. it gives you this innocent glow that he finds aesthetically pleasing. the way it further highlights how different you are — pure (by his standards, at least), virtuous — really does something for him. he has a weird obsession with your wrists so he's gotten you a few silver link bracelets. that's the most you get to accessorize should you ever choose to wear them.

machi lets you wear whatever you want and listens to your clothes requests, because she's too embarrassed to admit what she'd find you cute in. no one could get the information out of her, even if it came down to torture. so... what she wants more than anything (drumroll please)... is to see you wearing one of those short overall outfits over a plain shirt. she'd be staring at you as if you were the mona lisa. she has no idea why the concept entices her as much as it does. all she knows is that you'd look fucking adorable and she'd commit multiple crimes for you.

she likes you in denim, any color really. jean shorts, ripped jeans, skinny jeans, flared jeans, wide jeans, high waist, low waist; she's all about it. oversized tops are a big favorite as well. extra points if the sleeves are too long and cover most of your hand. you think she's glaring at you but in reality she's trying so hard to keep her fraying mind in check.

pakunoda has you looking runway ready whenever she takes you out. the woman did research. a lot of what you wear is tailored specifically to your complexion, body type, facial structure, etc. she enjoys high fashion and has procured pieces made by the biggest names. most of what's in your closet is either wool, pure cotton, or silk. it looks and feels luxurious. she favors seeing you in jumpsuits or maxi-length dresses. coordinating outfits is a favorite of hers, she has color theory down and you both look stunning together. around the house (or wherever she's keeping you), you're free to dress as you please. you both have matching house slippers and robes.

accessories will depend on the season, but you can expect to be wearing sleek sunglasses and the occasional hat. for jewelry, she goes for her birthstone, diamonds, and gold. nothing too ostentatious though. she keeps it classy. while she'd love to see you in stilettos, if you can't walk in them well, she'll go for flat pumps instead.

[starsbies]

Hungry For Your Love (Coriolanus x !Plinth Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, drugging, drinking, Coriolanus is his own warning, jealousy, breeding kink, manipulation, forced pregnancy, virginity loss, forced marriage (lmk if i missed some)

divider by @cafekitsune

porn w some plot or when coriolanus decides he wants you.

18+ only MDNI

wc - 4.4k

Coriolanus wouldn’t deny all the things he had in his mind. About all the things he would do to you. Especially in this very moment of time. 

You were sitting right next to him at the dinner table. Ever since he got rid of Sejanus–and became the new son of the Plinths–he had to eat dinner with the Plinths every two or so weeks. Although he found their district status to be quite deplorable, their wealth wasn’t. And to be frank you weren’t either.

To Coriolanus, you were the epitome of class and obedience. Well, almost, the way your leg was bouncing wasn't classy at all. Under different circumstances he would just put his hand on your thigh to stop you. Then he’d slowly make his hand upwards and-

“Coriolanus, what do you think?” 

The old man broke Coryo out of his train of thought. Suddenly his mind was going a million miles per minute. What were they talking about? Something about a project for.. No, that's not right. A new building? For the University maybe?

Then you spoke up, “Well Pa, personally I think a new cafeteria for the Academy is long overdue. It would’ve been nice to not have such a beat up cafeteria when I was a student.” 

He looked at you in the corner of his eye. You had a strand of your hair tucked behind your hair and your leg was no longer bouncing. Had you purposely saved him? 

Then he remembered that he still needed to answer Strabo. Coriolanus cleared his throat, “I think I’d have to agree with Y/N. The cafeteria dates back before the war so I believe it’s definitely overdue for a new building.”

Strabo nodded in acknowledgement before continuing to bite into his steak. Coriolanus decided to do the same and then took another peek at you. You looked so gorgeous to him, well you do everyday—but today was a treat.

You wore a red dress that went to your knees. It covered just enough to be considered modest. Your hair was down but he could see your dangling pearl earrings. He noted how you’d make a perfect bride for him. Beautiful, graceful, and heiress to the family business and fortune. In exchange he would give you status.

Together you two would be the elite of the elite. 

“So Coryo,” the blond internally winced. He hated when Mrs. Plinth called him that. “How's it going being Dr. Gaul’s understudy?”

“Well, there’s a lot of work, you know.” He took a deep breath, “We’ve been working on remaking the Jabberjays, since they can’t reproduce on their own we have to make a whole new species of them. We want to use them in the next Hunger Games so-”

A sudden chair screeching interrupted him. He turned and saw you standing. You excused yourself from the table, claiming you needed to finish writing an essay. Coriolanus wasn’t dumb, he knew why you really left. Though you’re very different from your brother there were also some ways the two of you were similar. Your distaste towards the Hunger Games was something that he’d have to help you get over if you’re to be the first lady of Panem.

Coriolanus waited a few moments before also excusing himself and he found himself making his way to your room. As he started nearing your room he started asking himself, what was he doing? What would he say when you asked him why he was here? 

He couldn’t just proclaim you as his wife and tell you to get over it. Not yet, anyway.

He eventually came to the conclusion that it was probably best to just leave. Grandma'am and Tigris were waiting anyway. 

That night Coriolanus had dreamt of you. That in itself wasn’t really a rare occurrence by any means, but the things you told him—the things you did to him—in his dreams was what made him wake up rock hard and sweaty. You really are such a tease. 

After a few seconds of laying in bed, Coriolanus decided that since a certain problem won’t go away any time soon it was time to get his day started. Once he stood up he nearly started to make his own bed. A bad habit of his. Before the Plinth’s started providing everything he needed, Coriolanus always had to make his own bed. He always had to clean up for himself. Now he has Avoxes to do that for him. Old habits do die hard.

When Coriolanus stepped into the bathroom he wasn’t surprised to see that the bath wasn’t drawn for him like usual. He was up way earlier than usual. He sighed and turned on the water. He started undressing and then checked the water temperature. Once he decided the water was warm enough he slowly started to insert himself into the tub. 

Once he was fully submerged, he closed his eyes and eased his body. He recounted the images from his dream and subconsciously his hands started moving to his shaft. 

“Sir, please.. Please let me see it.” you were in that slutty red dress that you wore last night. And you were on your knees for him. The thought of that was biting and delicious. He’d tell you no, just so you’d beg more. 

In his dream, Coriolanus stood from his chair. Now towering over you, he unzipped his pants allowing his cock to spring free. You immediately took it into your mouth.

Would you be that desperate for him in real life?

 Coriolanus needs you as much as any man needs air. He gritted his teeth, unable to hold on much longer. Slowly, the blond starts pumping his shaft. It was so animalistic and enticing, the image he had of you. He couldn’t help but choke back his wails of pleasure. He was afraid of being caught by Tigris, or even worse–the grandma’am–but he couldn’t help himself. 

In his fantasy you’re swallowing him whole, deepthroating every inch of him. Your cheeks hollowed out and your tongue was swirling around him like a good girl. He grabs you by both sides of your head and starts fucking your face like an animal. 

Soon enough Coriolanus can feel himself  reaching his climax. His legs are weak as he tries to imagine himself pouring his seed into you, and not some bathtub. You’d most certainly look divine carrying his child.

After a few moments after his climax he realized how tainted that whole ordeal was. Yet, he thinks that he would do it again, and again. Until he had you.

Coriolanus sighs as he drains the tub and draws up another bath. This time around the bath was short.

The next time Coriolanus saw you–in person–was at a party hosted by Clemensia. He was surprised to see you. You weren’t usually the type to go out, especially to parties like these. Unless there was a good reason for you to come. Or had you finally made an effort to debut into Capitol society? Hopefully the latter.

He continued to observe you from afar. You were sitting with one leg crossed over the other. Seemingly deep in thought. Or you were, until a tall and pretty lean gentleman approached you. Your face lit up and Coriolanus wished you’d look at him like that. 

Who is he? How did he know you, how did you know him?

Coriolanus quickly sought out Clemensia, it was her party so she must know. It didn’t take long to find the black haired girl. She was speaking with Festus and the two were clearly laughing about something that didn’t really seem too important. He approached the two and whispered “Clemmie,” a nickname he only used if he needed something, “Can I steal you for a minute?” 

The girl stilled for a second before telling Festus to give them a second. She looked up at Coriolanus, “What is it, Coryo?” 

He wasted no time in asking who the male that was with you was. 

Clemensia sighed, “Her plus one, I invited her ‘cause she’s rich and the heir to her father’s business. It’s good to have her on my good side.  Wasn’t really expecting her to come so I told her to bring a plus one if she wanted.” 

Plus one? You not only came to a party, but brought a plus one? Were the two of you together? The thought of that makes someone churn in his stomach. “So who is he?”

“Don’t really know. Pretty sure they bonded over their hatred of the games, he was probably homeschooled.” 

Coriolanus felt sick and Clemensia noticed. She took a step back. “Hey, you look like you might vomit all over the place.. You know where the guest bathroom is right?” He nodded. “Good. There’s a medicine cabinet in there too, if you want. Please don’t ruin my party, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nodded his head before making his way to the bathroom. He stood over the toilet for a couple of moments, and nothing happened. He figured that it would be best to take some medicine before heading out, just in case. He opened a few different cabinets before finding the right one. 

He knew there’d be lots of different bottles, but he still wasn’t expecting such a variety. Coriolanus knew that Clemensia struggled a lot, mentally, after the snake incident so he knew there’d be lots of prescriptions in here. Curiosity got the best of him and he started going through each one. There were a few anxiety prescriptions, like benzodiazepines,  which he expected. However, he took notice of all the insomnia medications. There were so many sleeping pills. The one that caught his attention the most was flunitrazepam. It’s a powerful sedative, and he’s wondering if Clemensia really takes such a strong drug to sleep?

There was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to take some. Not for himself of course. To give to you. Coriolanus wishes that he still had a little angel on his shoulder, telling him it was a bad idea. A voice to persuade him not to. But there wasn’t. Has there ever been?

Before Coriolanus knew it he was unscrewing the cap and took out one of the small pills. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it beside the sink. He set the pill on top before smashing it into tiny pieces. He rolled the handkerchief—with the sedative still inside—into a ball and shoved it into his coat pocket. 

Before Coriolanus left the bathroom he made sure to take medicine for his stomach ache. Just in case. 

He made his way to the bar, where an Avox was bartending. He put up two of his fingers to the bartender. As it started making the drinks, Coriolanus sought you out again. Unsurprisingly, you were still in the same spot. The only difference now was that the male was sitting beside you, and Coriolanus could feel himself becoming more and more aggravated. He turned back around, not wanting to see you laughing at the other man’s joke any longer. 

A few seconds later the Avox set two drinks in front of him and Coriolanus took no time in taking out his handkerchief and spilling the contents into one of the glasses. The Avox watched the whole thing happen and could only raise its eyebrows in response. Coriolanus smirked knowing it couldn’t say anything. Coriolanus took a glass into each hand, noting that the one with the sedative in it was in his right hand. 

The closer Coriolanus got, the more nervous he became. Part of him felt bad, really. You're just an innocent girl, one who is easily swayed. That had to be it. Sejanus must’ve started your hatred towards the hunger games, and that man continues to spark that hatred. Someone needs to save you, to wake you up. He won’t let you do something stupid like Sejanus did. Coriolanus is saving you, and this is the only way he can do it. 

“Y/N Plinth, what a pleasant surprise!” he exclaimed, as if he wasn’t already of her attendance. You looked up at him, and he swore his heart rate went up. 

“Oh, Coriolanus. Good to see you too.” 

You clearly were uncomfortable with his interruption. Was he the first person to approach you? Coriolanus was thinking about how to ease the tension when your plus one spoke up instead. “Hello, I’m Chiron. Nice to meet you.”

Coriolanus took a few minutes to soak in the male’s appearance. He had dark hair, and blue eyes. His jawline was square and Coriolanus took note of how his suit was lower end. Was he even Capitol? Then he turned back to you. You wore a simple black dress and heels. A timeless outfit. He noted that you did an updo with your hair, to show off your earrings. Stunning.

“Nice to meet you too, Chiron. Sadly, I only have two drinks, you don’t mind do you?” 

The brown haired man shrugged and you finally spoke up again, “Oh, it’s okay. I don’t drink.” How cute, Coriolanus thought. “Oh c’mon, it’ll help you ease up a little. I can tell you’re a little tense.” 

His tone was light, but he could tell he might’ve sounded more demanding. You sighed and gave him a tiny smile. He made sure he gave you the one in his right hand. You held it and eager to get you to drink it, he raised his glass. “To Sejanus.” A toast that you knew you couldn’t refuse.

You raise your glass afterwards and whispered, “To my brother.” Without waiting for Coriolanus to lower his glass, you took a giant swing of the drink.

After a couple minutes of small talking, he could tell that the drug was slowly taking effect. You were swaying and kept trying to steady yourself. Until you couldn’t and Chiron had to catch you from falling. 

“Woah hey, are you okay?” the brunette asked and of course you gave no response. “What’s wrong with her? Did you do something?” the man gave Coriolanus an accusatory glare.

“No! Of course not.” Coriolanus paused for a moment, thinking of what he could say to sell his lie. “Wait.. I can’t believe I forgot she’s a lightweight. I should’ve realized when she said she doesn’t drink.” 

“You did this on purpose didn’t you!” Chiron started shouting at Coriolanus. “Did you spike her drink or something? You did, didn't you!” 

All the background chatter from the other attendees quieted down. Observing the scene before them. “Why would I do that? I would never even consider doing that to her, I-”

Then Clemensia stepped in. “What’s going on here, Coryo? I asked you not to ruin my party.” Her eyes landed on you and then up to Coriolanus, clearly expecting a good explanation.

He sighed. “This man is making very harmful accusations. He’s saying I drugged her. Y/N’s just a lightweight.” 

“Is that true?”  

He already knew she’d believe him and the brunette knew it too. 

“Look, whatever. I’m taking her home.” he said, and started to pick you up before Coriolanus spoke up again. 

“No.. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you think so Clemmie?”

“Well I don’t know I-” 

“Clemmie, do you want her to be taken by some guy that nobody knows?” his voice was eager, he can’t let all of this trouble go to waste. “Who knows what he’ll do to her?” He whispered, only loud enough for her to hear. 

Clemmie sighed. “I guess not, maybe she should just sleep in one of the guest bedrooms?”

 After that people began to whisper and that felt more eerie than the silence. 

“I’ll stay with her.” Chiron was clearly trying desperately to save you. Sadly for him, he doesn’t have nearly the same amount of power as Coriolanus.

Before Coriolanus could persuade Clemensia to say no, she did it on her own. Telling him that he needs to leave her party, since the reason he was even allowed to come—you—was no longer, technically, here. 

And that was that. Two Avoxes wasted no time in escorting the man out. Coriolanus could only smirk to himself. He made a mental note to thank Clemensia in the future. 

“I guess I’ll take her to the guest bedroom then?” He finally allowed himself a deep breath in and out. Everything he’s ever worked for has led to this moment. 

“Coriolanus.” Clemensia’s voice was serious and blond found himself coming back to reality. “Don’t hurt her.” 

He looked down and found that she was already looking at him. Her face was hard and eyes were cold and serious. Like a snake. Coriolanus gulped, “I would never dream of it.” 

And she believed him. 

Coriolanus took no time in picking you up bridal style. On his way to the bedroom, he passed the bar and made eye contact with the same Avox that watched him spike your drink. He couldn’t help but feel his pride grow as the Avox quickly looked away. Surely aware of what was going to take place. 

In the past the blond felt bad about the seemingly inhumane ways the Capitol removed tongues from people who spoke out or rebelled. He always thought about the pain, and how cruel it was to take away their communication, then force them into servitude.  That was him a long time ago however. Now he understands the importance of such policies. Power and control, two words that Coriolanus resonated with. 

 Once he made it to the bedroom he laid you gently onto the mattress. He didn’t immediately take off his clothes, or yours. He just sat there and studied you. You were so irresistible. How hadn’t he noticed earlier? Was it because Sejanus bothered him so much that he never noticed you? Whatever the reason was, Sejanus was now gone and you were going to be his–soon.

The thought that more nights like this—nights with you— were in his future made him grow hard. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He began by taking off your heels. He wondered how you could wear such ridiculous things, surely they were uncomfortable and he was proven right when he noticed the blisters on your feet. He mentally added that to his list of things he’d have to fix. 

Coriolanus took time in taking off your dress. He carefully sat you upright just enough to unzip the back zipper. He even more carefully removed the dress from your body and then laid you back down.  He took a moment to admire your almost bare form. You were wearing a matching black set. Nothing too much. You weren’t planning on this happening anyway.

He pushed your panties to the side and inserted one finger into you slowly. Absolutely divine, he thought. The way you felt around his finger was enough to get him drunk.  He began to kiss up your legs while also thrusting his digit. Part of him wishes you were awake, just so he can see your reactions. You’d be moaning for more, begging for more,  he knows it.

The blond inserted a second digit and began scissoring motions. Suddenly he hears a small whimper, so small he wasn’t even sure what it was until he heard it a second time. Were you waking up? Part of him hopes so, that way you’ll know and realize who you belong to. The other part of him wants you to keep sleeping. That way he won’t have to fight you, he already worked so hard to get here anyway.

Coriolanus momentarily stops his ministrations and removes his fingers from your wetness. He examines them, drenched in your juices. He licks his fingers clean  and can feel himself getting impossibly harder. You make him so hungry, he’s starved. He can’t hold himself any longer, he tells himself. Next time, he assures himself, he’ll take his time enjoying you. 

He quickly releases his length. It’s angry and red, begging for you. He huffs before finally removing your underwear. He contemplated stealing them before realizing he won’t need to after this. He quickly threw them somewhere and then he spread your legs. 

He touched his cock a few times, then proceeded to coat his length in his precum. He could feel his heart pounding and his breath quickening. He aligned himself with your entrance and slowly pushed in. You were tight, and he cursed to himself because he knew he should’ve taken more time preparing you. 

Once he was fully seethed inside of you, he took a moment and admired the blood on his cock. Pleased to know you hadn’t slept with that lousy Chiron guy, he slowly removed himself before shoving himself back inside of you. You were still whimpering like before, but now you wore a pained expression on your face. You could feel him. 

“I know it hurts right now, love. Bear with me.” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure if you could hear him or even comprehend what he was saying. 

Coriolanus could feel all the arousal pooling between the two of you. You weren’t as tight as you had been in the beginning. Now he could easily invade your gummy walls. If anything he wasn’t invading them because they sucked him back in. His lip twitched and he began to quicken his pace. After a particular thrust your body clenched around him and he let out a groan. “You like that, huh? You dirty slut.” 

He began to aim harder at the same place that had you clenching around his length. When you let out a mewl he decided to go even faster. You were such a mess. A beautiful mess, one that he created and one that he will clean up. 

The blond slid his hands behind your back and unclipped your bra. He quickly disposed of it and stared at your chest. Now you were fully exposed to him. He drank in the sight, no more secrets. He was going to memorize every freckle, every birthmark, every inch of your body by the end of tonight. 

Every thrust made your chest bounce and he couldn’t help but take the left one in his mouth while squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before sucking on it lightly. In his other hand he was rubbing your nipple. 

“C- Cor-”

He perked up, hearing your voice. You must be waking up. He removed his mouth from your mound, leaving a trail of his saliva, and looked at your face. You looked scared and for a second he felt bad. Then he reminded himself that you did this to yourself. In the long run, you’ll be thankful.

“Whats-” you furrowed your brows, clearly not fully awake. “What are you-”

He was quick to shush you. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, to which you tried your best to push him away. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t let your refusal be let off so lightly but you were just so weak. Instead he just took your wrists and pinned them above your head. 

“Be a good girl or I won’t let you cum. Understand?” He looked into your eyes and he could tell you were about to cry. Your eyes were glossed over and your face was red, from the sex or the need to cry–he wasn’t sure. 

After a mere second of eye contact you turned your head to the side. He growled, tired of your disobedience. He removed one of his hands from your wrists and moved it to your jaw. He forced you to look at him. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” your tears started falling and he quickened his pace, “I’m gonna take care of you.. I promise.” he wiped your cheek with his thumb. Out of lust–or fear–you nodded. He could tell you were gonna climax soon, so he removed his hand from your wrists and moved it to your clit doing circular motions. You started whimpering, holding back her moans, “Go on, moan my name.. Don’t be shy.” 

“C- Coriolanus,” he hummed, questioning. “Please.. Too much.” you begged.

He grinned in satisfaction and quickened his pace. You started to squeeze him more and he knew it was coming. You started to squirm, an unfamiliar feeling surely boiling in your lower abdomen. 

After a few moments longer you came undone. Coriolanus made sure to study the pure ecstasy on your face. The way your mouth opened, revealing the most gratifying moan. The way your eyes squinted, your senses became too much. It was all so lewd and he gave you no comfort in stopping his ministrations, opting to fuck you through it. He was searching for his own climax now while you were a moaning mess underneath him.

He leaned down to your ear, “I’m gonna feel you up so nice, put a baby in your womb. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You didn’t answer him, unable to not be a blubbering mess. He took the way your cunt sucked him in as an answer enough. 

There it was, the coiling feeling. He became erratic, chasing that all too familiar feeling of his high. Suddenly he was the moaning mess and not you. He examined your face, and noted that you were crying more than before and that sent him over edge. He spilled every drop of his seed into you. 

Then he stayed there and the world felt silent besides the two of you breathing. Everything felt surreal. 

His member was soft now, and he slowly removed himself from inside you. He pushed out the cum that was leaking out. Don’t want any of that getting lost, he thought.

He laid himself onto the bed next to you. He tried looking at you, only for you to turn the other direction. He sighed, understanding that you might need time to think about everything that’s happened. 

“You’ve ruined me, Coriolanus Snow.” you said, so tiny he wasn’t sure you even said it until you turned your head back to face him. 

“You’ve taken everything from me.” your face was tear stained and red. Your nose was runny and he just noticed that you were sniffling.

“Everything?”

You took a shaky breath. “My life, my fortune,  my future,” you closed your eyes, “my brother.”

To that his heart sank, and his eyes widened. It wasn’t often that Coriolanus felt bad, to be honest he still didn’t, but the look on your face told him he should. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, and reached out to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.

“Me too.”

[oneforthemunny]

crossings |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: everything is new and exciting with you and eddie, but joyce can't help but worry about you.

contains: mentions of suggestions to drugs and violence. an au of eddie in the mafia so crime and dark-ish themes. nothing graphic in this, mainly just fluff and a little angst. I'll put a warning on here anyways of 18+ or read at your own discretion.

It started with a necklace. A simple diamond necklace on a dainty gold chain. Reserved and classy, but still far too expensive than you could afford on a receptionist’s budget. Joyce furrowed her brows when you first started wearing it, nestled between your collar bones delicately, glimmering in the sunlight when you moved. It was too pristine to be second hand, but still, she figured it might’ve been a gift, shaking it off.

Then came the bracelets. Three gold stacked bracelets that were very chic; very expensive. She only knew that because she saw them in the magazines, dangling off some tiny model’s wrist with the price inscribed in tiny writing off to the side. She’d snorted loudly, flipping the page with a huff. Who on earth would pay that price for a bracelet? One that could get you a decent car? Yet, you strolled in on Thursday with them adorned on your wrist- again, understated and simple, nonchalant. Like you weren’t carrying some people’s salary on your wrist.

Handbags, earrings, rings, shoes all followed. Every piece more expensive than the next. Joyce had started to wonder if you were embezzling from the bank, stealing out of the drawers. Until she saw him.

Eddie Munson strolled into the bank, which wasn’t unusual, but this time he wasn’t here for Charles. Oh no, he was here for you.

“Hi, Joyce.” Eddie greeted with a smile. He was always so polite, it made her stomach twist knowing that behind that alluring smile was a dangerous man. “How’re you today?”

“I can’t complain.” Joyce smiled back politely. “How are you?”

“Good.” Eddie said cooly, his eyes flicked behind her, lighting up. “Better now. I got a hot date for lunch.”

Joyce blushed at the information. “Oh? Who-“

She saw you giggle, purse- a new designer bag fresh off the runway- slung over your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around Eddie in greeting, squealing when he pressed kisses into your cheek. The way his dimples deepened, creasing deep into his cheeks, eyes lighting up when he saw you; it felt very sweet. Joyce almost forgot who he was for a moment. More importantly what he was capable of.

"I'll be back in an hour, Joyce. I put the sign up." You beamed at her, your happiness nearly infectious when you smiled over at her. Joyce hesitated for a moment, watching Eddie sweetly place his hand on your waist.

"Have a good lunch!" You called over your shoulder, pressed into Eddie's side, pushing the glass door open for you to step through.

Eddie turned, lifting a hand in a wave towards Joyce, a kind gesture that shocked her. She could barely raise her own hand back, watching them scamper out the door- two young kids in love. She remembered being like that before, the insatiable feeling to be with each other at all times. The whirlwind of love and adoration that followed, sweeping you up on a cloud of ecstasy, fogging your judgement.

Joyce could barely touch her sandwich, staring at the plastic bag in front of her. She ignored the other chatter around her, coworkers busily clambering about their days and droning subjects she couldn't bring herself to engage with.

She knew you had no way of knowing, you couldn't have. You weren't from Hawkins, you were Nancy's college roommate, brought here because of a job- this job. She wondered if you had told Nancy about Eddie. She had half a mind to ring Jonathan and ask, insist he tell his fiancé what her friend is up to; who her friend is hanging around.

Everyone knew the Munson's. Eddie's father, Wayne, Eddie, his mother. The distaste, snarl that usually followed with the name was all Eddie grew up with. His hoodlum of a father, who was a delinquent around Hawkins, got his mother killed. Wayne who was forced to take the boy in, and the boy. The boy they outcasted all his life, mocked and ridiculed, now, held all the cards. He had the power now. When people said "Munson" now, they didn't snarl or scoff. No, it followed with wide eyes, in a low tone, turning to make sure no one was listening. That was whenever anyone dared to say anything about Eddie at all, most content on pretending they were unaware of the dangers that happened in Hawkins.

Eddie was always a good kid, and even now, he took care of his city. He had established terror in the hearts of all his citizens, enough to keep them quiet and docile, let him keep doing what he needed to do; but he was always the first one to help when they were in trouble. No one came for his city, for his home, for his things.

Joyce knew Eddie was responsible for the boy's home being rebuilt. He'd had a 'meeting' with Charles and a few other big names around town after a few kids at the children's home had become sick from the lack of heating that winter. The children's home had requested renovations, but the city pushed it back- until it became a top priority practically overnight. Joyce knew it was more than a coincidence that it happened to become priority after Eddie's meeting.

Still, she worried that you didn't know the danger. Joyce was a wreck all day, contemplating if she should say something to you. She knew it was a risk, that if you reported back to Eddie it could lead to a world of hurt for her... for her family.

Joyce watched you all day. When you'd returned from your lunch with Eddie, he'd walked you back to your desk, all dimpled grins and tossing you a wink that left you flushing before he left. He promised to pick you up later, walking away with a small wave. "Have a good day, ladies." He'd purred lowly.

Hours later, Joyce still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you. She'd tried, she had, but every time she'd call your name, you giving her a wide eyed, sweet look, her words caught in her throat. Choking and constricting around the request, before she'd just shake it off, laughing and blaming the weather for her scattered thoughts.

Joyce's eyes flickered from the clock on the wall, back towards you. You'd begun packing up, neatly filing papers away, and smoothing your agenda for the next day out. She bit her lip, rolling it in contemplation, pencil bouncing on her desk.

Five o'clock- closing time. You were already standing, peering out the window to see Eddie's Bugatti below. Joyce followed your gaze, shoving her own things in her purse.

"Wait!" Joyce called, much more urgent than she meant it to be. She called your name just as frantic, stopping you in the doorway.

"Um, could I talk to you for a second?" Joyce stammered, hands trembling when she shoved her things into her bag.

Your brows furrowed gently. "Yeah, of course. Are you alright?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. "Did I miss something in the paper work? I thought I stamped all the envelopes, but if I missed one I'll-"

"No, sweetie, it's not that." Joyce gave you a small smile, but her heart hammered so fiercely in her chest she could hear it in her ears.

Joyce pushed the door open, gently leading you outside. She caught the eyes of her coworkers, wide eyes and heads shaking in warning. They knew. Everyone knew. But what they didn't know was why Joyce would approach you with the subject. Put herself at that own kind of risk.

Joyce felt her stomach squeeze, turning to meet your confused gaze. "Joyce, is everything alright? Is it about the wedding? I told you Nancy can be a little stubborn about details, but if you're worried about something, I'll talk to her."

Joyce shook her head, eyes trailing behind you. The large ferns outside blocked her view, but she could still see him. Black button down, rolled sleeves, leaned up against the car finishing his cigarette.

"Sweetie, I-I..." Joyce let out a straggled breath. "What are you doing?" She asked lowly, eyes meeting yours cautiously.

Your brows furrowed. "What?" You asked. "Joyce, are you feeling ok? Do I need to call Jonathan or Will-"

"No," Joyce sighed heavily, placing her hands on your shoulders. It felt so maternal, shocking you a little. "What are you doing with Eddie?" She asked finally.

There was a silence between you, filling the space in a buzzing, defining tone. You blinked at her carefully. "Eddie?" You asked.

Joyce nodded fiercely. "Eddie... Sweetie, I know you're not from here, but-but Eddie... Eddie is not- he's-" She stuttered, shaking her head at herself, frustrated at her fumbling words. "There's things in Hawkins that are dangerous, ok? We all know it, but we don't know it, understand?"

Your face fell slightly, lips pursing slightly. You looked over your shoulder towards Eddie through the glass doors. Joyce's breath hitched. "And-And Eddie he's into those things." She said slowly, eyes watching you carefully. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

You gave her a soft smile, hands arching up to lay over hers, squeezing them gently. "Joyce, I understand." You nodded. "But Eddie is a very sweet guy."

Joyce blinked at you, in disbelief. She said your name in exasperation, but you held your hand up. "Joyce, I appreciate your wanting to worry for me, to look out for me, but," You sighed gently, looking over at Eddie. "I'm a big girl. I've got it handled."

"He could hurt you." Joyce muttered low, fingers squeezing you lightly in panic.

"He won't." You said firmly, head nodding back at her.

"Honey, I don't think you know what you're-"

"I don't think you know." You snapped, a little more defensive than you meant it to. The fear on her face at your tone, flinching back at the words made your heart drop. You sighed heavily, rubbing your temple.

You took a step forward towards her, cautious and holding your hand up in truce. "I know that you know some of Eddie's life, but you don't know Eddie." You gave her a sincere look. "Not like I know Eddie, and I can promise you, if I felt like I was in the slightest bit of danger, I wouldn't be with him. You don't know him like I know him."

Joyce didn't reply, mouth uncomfortably dry, heart beating far too fast in her chest. She felt like her knees might get out.

You gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, offering her a small smile. "Thanks for looking out for me, Joyce, but I promise I'm ok." You turned, seeing Eddie checking his watch, eyes now watching the two of you inside.

You turned, waving at Joyce over your shoulder, pushing the door open. "Have a good one, Joyce! See you tomorrow!" You called cheerfully.

Joyce watched in slight horror, confused and awed when you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck, his own gripping your waist, pulling you into a sweet, passionate kiss. He kissed you like he hadn't seen you in years.

He held the door open for you, letting you slide in before jogging around to the other side. He could see Joyce still staring, watching in amazement from behind the glass. His chest tightened, the carnal, protective need washing through his veins.

"What took you so long, baby?" Eddie asked, peeling off from the curb. "What were you talking to Joyce about?"

"The wedding. Nancy will not finalize details on anything, and Joyce is worried sick." You rolled your eyes playfully. "She wants me to talk to Nance, and I told her I'd try, but you know how Nancy can be? She's so stubborn and the more you push her, the more she'll dig her heels in."

Eddie relaxed, eyes flickering over to you gently. "She wasn't bothering you?" He asked carefully.

You furrowed your brows at him. "No." You giggled. "Just wanting me to play miracle worker for the wedding."

"Good." Eddie muttered, reaching his hand over the console to hold yours. "You remember what I said? You let me know if anyone starts bothering you." He brought your hand to his mouth, pillowy soft lips brushing your knuckles. It was so romantic, it had you giggling, positively giddy and drunk in love.

You leaned over, nose nuzzling into his clean shaved cheek, still smelling the nicotine on his lips when you kissed him sweetly. He slowed at the stop light, hands wrapping around your jaw to pull you closer, kissing you properly. When you pulled apart, your eyes were dazzling up at him, taking in his lopsided smile.

You knew there were two sides to Eddie. You knew there was. reason people feared him. You knew Joyce was right to warn you, to look out for you. You would do the same in her shoes. You wouldn't be able to understand either from an outsider's perspective.

They didn't know the Eddie you did. The Eddie that smothered you in so much affection, not just expensive material things, but sweet words that left your skin blushed with praise. He was passionate, about his business, yes, but about you too. An old school, intense type of love that you only saw on the screens. He was gentle with you, showing you a side of himself no one else saw.

You didn't want anyone else to. Selfishly, you liked that it was all yours. For you, and you only. Eddie was yours. Your scary man that everybody else feared, but not you. No for you, he was yours. Sweet and caring and protective; all yours.

You'd let them have their judgments. Their silent fears and worries about your sanity, about your safety. It was better that way, for both of you. You'd let them have their thoughts about Eddie, and you wouldn't try to change them, because that meant potential issues that neither of you wanted.

You'd let them think you were just with him for the lavish gifts. You'd let them think that you were insane. You'd let them think that Eddie was a threat to you. That he would hurt you or you'd get caught in the crossfire like his mother. You knew they couldn't help it, it was so easy to judge you and him silently, removed as far away from the relationship as they could. Yet the still casted their judgements in hushed tones and fleeting looks, too scared to speak on them, but too indulgent not to at least determine the outcome of your relationship. Mourn a fate that hadn't even happened. Predict a repeat of history without the facts.

"History repeating itself," They'd mutter to their friends in the quiet of their own privacy, head down but eyes cutting when the two of you would pass.

It was so easy to assume that, to brush it off that you'd both suffer the fate of his parents before him. Easy to judge when no one knew the facts or the truth. Opinions are easy to make with one sided, skewed facts. They were too scared to really try and know, to even try and see. But you supposed that was ok. They didn't need to know anyways.

Besides, none of them knew Eddie. Just like none of them knew you. Not the way you knew each other.

[nickel156]

Feyre being a hypocritical Bitch,

Has nothing to do with her pregnancy, outfit or her other 180s 😆 🤡

And everything to do with her treatment of Nesta.

For someone who had a panic attack, and left her fiancé for him locking her up.

It sure was easy to do the same thing to Nesta.

On top of it, you shoved her with a male she wanted nothing to do with. (Who btw asked her 3 separate times in his bc if she was a virgin 🤢)

You told her it was a discussion, then threatened to tie her up and drag her there.

Why? Because you don't like her behavior?

You wouldn't do that to a random citizen of Velaris you shouldn't be allowed to do that to Nesta.

A citizen.

"Oh but they paid for it all"

Yeah, they should! And Feyre shouldn't dangle not paying her rent in Nesta's face.

It's your fault she's dealing with this trauma in the first place, it's the least you could do!

If Elain had decided to move out, she would have her way paved with gold.

But you don't like how Nesta is behaving. (Which frankly isn't much different than the rest of the IC 🥸)

So you take away the one thing she did for herself. Because you didn't like it.

There's tough love, and then there's making your sister a prisoner. Doing community service for a crime you feared she might one day commit.

For being "pro choice" you didn't give Nesta one.

And then you claim to forgive her, but laugh about her hike. Which made her suicidal.

Real classy.