#very passionate about the plastics right now

[doinsomethingdaily]

I feel like many people care about this but there is a lot of mis-information or one sided- information going around.

(Sources; I study environmental sciences. I have followed an course on marine litter and am currently doing my end research paper on microplastic pollution in surface water. I have used some papers for this, if you want them I can put them in the comments I think)

What I really want to put out there is that the problem is divers and that personal action and industry reform both are needed.

1. Plastic pollution is obviously a large problem. Think of the Atlantic garbage patch. But also in our own environment. More recently microplastics have been of growing concern. (there is even nanoplastics, but I am not going there)

2. When talking about plastic pollution there are many terms that are used to indicate different things.

- plastic pollution: all plastics currently in the environment that do not belong there

- marine plastic: plastic in seas and oceans

- microplastics: often classified as plastic particles under 5 mm, they are found in water, air, earth, Antarctic ice, human food and our bodies

- primary microplastics: plastic particles that enter the environment as particles under 5mm

- secondary microplastics: particles that come from larger plastics that are degraded.

With this wide variety of plastics to talk about sometimes the waters get muddies. I hear a lot of 'x is the main source of microplastics'. The simple truth is: we do not know what the main source is of most of these. But we do know what the biggest contributers are.

Plastic pollution: mostly land based sources of single use plastics. Recycling is still almost never viable or implemented. Research indicates that up to 80% of produced plastics each year ends up in the environment. That seems like a lot. ( This number probably counts landfills, which are also in the environment. stuf that goes to landfill does not magically disappear. )

Marine plastic: most marine plastic seems also to be from landbased sources. However, most of the plastic sinks. Yet, The great Pacific garbage patch is made up of almost 50% fishing gear (appearantly more buoyant?) Both of these are major problems.

Microplastics:

Primary: these come from tires, paint, washing clothes, cosmetics and other personal care products, but also the production pallets that are used to make bigger plastic products are a major source.

Secondary; these come from all the bigger plastic pollution (so land based litter for example) braking down in the environment. Currently the majority of marine microplastics seem to be secondary.

3. It is hard to measure the precise main source or sources of plastics because it is hard to monitor them. They move through the environment. The total amount of plastic amount to tons. Some sink to the sea bottoms or are currently somewhere in the atmosphere. Monitoring protocols for microplastics are still being established. So there is no absolute answer about most things right now.

4. What do we know: obviously humans are the source of plastics. Plastic need hundreds of years to break down. Most current research seems to indicate that microplastics will have negative health effects. You probably have plastic close to you right now.

Yes, we need to reform the industry large scale. Plastics should be used for the things where they are invaluable such as for medical applications and such. But we need to cut back on other uses of plastics. And we need good recycling. This one is going to be harder because of the many kinds of plastics and the limits on how many times it can be reused.

However, as an individual, you can help. I am certainly not saying everyone needs to go "zero waste." But even if you are switching out little things, you do have an impact. Further more, reducing plastics and microplastics might be healthier for you.

[milkthemilkman]

FRANCIS MOSSES X FEMALE READER (PT 1)

SUBMISSIVE FRANCIS

The click of the door, accompanied by the sound of keychains hitting against eachother takes your attention from the television. It's none other than your boyfriend, Francis, coming back home with the food you requested in his hand. "I'm home." He announces, as if you didn't already know. Taking off his shoes, he pulls the key out of the hey hole, and he steps inside the building. Kneeling down, he picks up his shoes, opens the cabinet right next to door and places the shoes inside, then closes both of the doors. His usual tired and stoic face turns up into a little grin as soon as he sees you approach him. He was quick to wrap his arms around you and lean down to give you a little peck. "Mm. Knowing you will be home when I come back makes my day a lot easier." He mumbles as he presses his forehead against yours, not being able to help himself from going in for a second kiss. He just couldn't get enough of you. The kiss lasted a few seconds. Then a few more. And a few more. The only reason he pulled back was because he was reminded of the bag of food in his hand. "Mm, darling. The food." His grin grew wider as he lifted up the bag of Chinese food. Even though he didn't want to, he removed his hands from your waist, and walked towards the living room, where he placed the bag of food on the table. "Be right back.." he mumbled, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked towards the bedroom. He opened the door and walked inside, but as soon as he closed the door, it was opened right back, your perverted glance on his body. He had expected you to be busy taking the containers out of the plastic bag. "Is there something you need?" He questioned as he turned around, but only when he tossed aside his button up, he realized your intentions. "Oh.." his face reddened as he watched you close the door behind yourself and walk closer to him. "Couldn't wait until after dinner?" He chuckled, his cheeks flushing. But obviously, once you kissed him, there was no way he was about to pull back. Closing his eyes, he leaned down a little to deepen the kiss, feeling your hands on his neck. He let you back him up onto the bed, and once there was no more room for his feet, he sat on the bed. You were quick to sit on his lap, and he very invitingly wrapped his arms around your waist as soon as you did. "Mm.." he groaned into your mouth as he felt your hips move on his lap. As tired as he might be, he could never, ever refuse you. As your lips parted from his, you trailed soft kisses along his jawline, sending shivers down his spine. "I can't resist you," he whispered hoarsely, his hands roaming over your curves as you playfully tugged at his belt, slowly undoing it with your hangs as you kiss his neck. "Francis," you breathed out, "I need you now." His breath hitched, and he responded by claiming your lips once more, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the sensitive skin of your back. The scent of your perfume filled his nostrils, and the heat of your body against his sent his desire soaring. With a low growl, he broke away, his eyes darkening with desire. "I've been wanting you since this morning," he admitted, his voice rough with passion.

As you once again trailed kisses down from his neck, to his chest, then down to Francis's abs, his heart raced in anticipation. A low growl escaped Francis, his fingers tangling in your hair as you slowly got off of his lap onto the ground on your knees, face to face with the waistband of his pants. He watched you take off the belt quickly, then unbutton his pants. He lifted his hips off the bed a little to make it easier for you to take the pants off, and it came down along with his boxers as soon as you pulled down, his length up and rock hard for you. It was embarrasing to him a little. All if took was a few minutes of kissing and a few touches on your skin for him to get so solid.. but you made him feel so weak. With a hungry look in his eyes, he watched you lower yourself further as You ran your tongue along the delicate skin just above his groin, savoring the way his muscles contracted beneath your touch. His sharp intake of breath spurred you on, and you eagerly dove in, taking him into your mouth. The salty taste of his skin was something he was hoping would inconvenience you, but you didn't seem to mind at all as you bobbed your head. (PT 2)

[atinystraynstay]

Late Night Cravings - Lee Jihoon

Synopsis: It's a Friday night, and your hard-working boyfriend has locked himself in this recording studio once again. Jihoon felt guilty for the nights separated from you, whereas you would do anything to watch his fantasies become a reality.

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x fem. reader

Genre: Angst - Jihoon feeling guilty, fluff, established relationship, soft smut - MINORS DNI

Contains: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), dom!Jihoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!!), squirting, creampie

Word Count: 3.5k

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Jihoon let out a frustrated groan. His fingers drove through his hair, frustrated beyond belief at the song-writing process. It wasn't like him to get stuck like this, but here he was - unable to form even words.

He glanced towards the clock and grimaced at the sight of it being close to 2am. He was hoping to have been out of here around 9pm, so he could have made it to your apartment by 10pm. Jihoon was under pressure from the company to get a new demo to them by Sunday. Yet, here he was on a Friday night, barely making progress. He should be with you instead.

When you guys together, you knew that the relationship would require a lot of work. You weren't dating any guy, after all. Music was Woozi's passion in life. You wanted to encourage him to pursue every project that screamed for his attention and the ones he got the most excited about. Even if it meant that he had to cancel plans or you went days without seeing each other, you would do it for you.

That's the part that made Woozi feel the most guilty. You made all these sacrifices for him, sacrificing your own needs to allow him to pursue his goals made him feel lousy. Aren't relationships supposed to be about equality? How can you give that to him when his career doesn't allow him to make such sacrifices? There was very little wiggle room for him when there were constant deadlines and meetings.

Maybe the reason why Jihoon put so much pressure on himself was because this was his first, genuine relationship. He's had flings with people here and there, but they weren't meaningful to him. You, on the other hand, meant everything and so much more. He wanted to make things right with you.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Who could that be?

"Come in," Jihoon called out. He made sure to hit save on his computer on what progress he has made. Even if it was minimal, he would be devastated if it all vanished suddenly. It might be someone from the company who wanted to talk logistics, which can be a length conversations anyways.

The door slowly pushed open. He leaned over his chair to see who it was.

"Surprise?" You called out.

His eyes grew wide at the sight of you. You had your hair pulled back into a high ponytail and were wearing sweats. Yet to him, you looked like you were ready to walk the runway. He picked up on the scent of take-out coming into the room. He glanced down to see your hands holding a white plastic bag. Though he glanced at the clock to see it was 2:07am. You should be asleep.

"Is now a bad time?" You frowned.

He quickly shook his head before spinning his chair around, so he could easily push himself up. He was just absolutely speechless that you knew that he needed a distraction. Realistically, he needed you.

"It's never a bad time, darling." His heart swelled just seeing you in front of him. How did he get so lucky?

You relaxed as you watched Jihoon cross the room to get to you. Jihoon never was the type of person to let height stand in the way of things, but he always found it adorable how you still had to look up at him.

Once he stood in front of you, he cupped your face. You couldn't help but giggle as he tried looking down at you with a stern look. Yet, to you, he was the least intimidating person. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched together as he gazed down at you. His thumbs running over the soft skin of your cheek made you weak in the knees.

'I just thought you'd be asleep right now, sweet girl. You know I don't like it when you're up too late or you're waiting for me." "I know, but I just couldn't get comfortable without you in bed. And then I figured you haven't eaten so I thought maybe food might help you while coming to see you would help me."

Jihoon's heart broke at your statement. He wanted desperately to be the man you deserve, the one that is punctual and not forgetful. There were too many times he could count when he felt like he had let you down. Tonight is an example of that.

"I truly don't deserve you," he sighed." His forehead found yours. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, as he was just taking a moment to feel you so close to him after what felt like centuries apart. "How can I ever make it up to you, angel? How can I repay you for being so damn understanding?"

Your hands moved up to gently rest on his. Your fingertips were caressing against his strong hands which caused his eyes to open. The sight alone caused his heart to melt. You were looking up at him like he was made out of the stars. And to you, he was.

"I just want to be around you, Jihoon. That's all I need."

Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. He removed his hands from your face, so one hand could hold onto your hip. With his free hand, he took the takeout and put it in the mini-fridge. The mini fridge was closer to the front of the studio, right by the couch. He never liked bringing food over towards his equipment, in the case something spilled. He wasn't a fan of messes.

This time is an exception.

With ease, Jihoon lifted you up in his arms. Jihoon could never produce something as beautiful as the sound of your laughter.

His hands were resting underneath you which allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You let out a gasp in surprise before breaking out into a fit of laughter.His arms flexed underneath you, wanting to ensure you that he'd never drop you which caused you to stop the laughter and blush.

He couldn't help but smirk at your now shy reaction. "Oh darling, what's wrong? Something on your mind?" Jihoon walked the two of you over to the leather chair in front of his mixing board. You bit your lip gently, shaking your head. You were honestly just speechless by his strength.

"Tell me, darlin'. What are you missing the most?" He asked as he sat down on the chair. It was the perfect position that already allowed you to straddle him. You got yourself situated, not missing the throaty groan that escaped him.

But he wasn't about to allow you to have the upper hand.

"Have you missed the way my arms feel around you?" As he spoke, his hands started caressing your back. The feeling of the warmth of his hand sent shivers throughout your body in the best way possible.

Slowly, his hands began moving from your back towards your sides. He let his hands run up and down, his fingertips just grazing along your side. It sent goosebumps throughout your body even just feeling his touch through your clothing. He knew all the little ways to make your brain go fuzzy.

His eyes were trained on you, waiting for a response. He couldn't help but smirk as he watched you nod your head gently, your eyes bouncing from his to his wondering hands.

"Or have you missed the way that my fingers split your pussy open? How your tight walls will squeeze around them when you're on the brink of an orgasm? Or do you want to leave my cock to the stretching of your pussy, hmm?"

Your jaw dropped at his words, at the quick 180 he took. He kept one hand on your hip, ensuring you wouldn't go squirming away from him. His other hand moved down your thigh, resting high up. You could feel yourself getting wet with anticipation.

"Because I know I've missed the way you scream for me. I've missed the way your back arches and eyes roll whenever you squirt for me."

Jihoon couldn't ignore the little whimper that left your lips. It caused him to snicker as the hand on your thigh moved up to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. It was tied in a pretty little bow. Jihoon always loved how fiercely independent you are. It was admittedly one of the millions of reasons why Jihoon fell for you.

Reason a million and one was how easily he could make you crumble, how wrapped around his finger you were. It was a mutual love.

"I've been neglecting you a bit too long, haven't I?" he pouted slightly. "Let me make it up to you, angel."

Without further hesitation after receiving a nod from your head, Jihoon undid the bow before dipping past the waistband of the sweatpants. He shivered with excitement at the feeling of your warm ski underneath his fingertips.

Much to his surprise, he didn't feel a second layer underneath. He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised. Immediately, you knew what he was wondering about.

"Like I said, I missed you in bed."

That was enough for Jihoon to take action. With your legs already straddling his waist, he knew you were in the perfect position for his wandering fingers. His index and pointer fingers gently ran up and down your slit. He bit his lip at the feeling of how wet you already were for him.

He couldn't keep his precious baby waiting any longer. His two fingers slipped into your warm, wet pussy. His eyes fluttered shut so you couldn't see the rolling of his eyes at the feeling of how tight, how inviting you were from his. Your own head rolled back slightly, hips pushing towards his as you craved for more.

"I should really punish you for being so impatient right now when I'm giving you what you want," he murmured. His hand moved up to hold your chin, making your head tilt back to look into his eyes. "But I like too much knowing you need me as badly as I need you right now."

And he did need you. You could feel his boner growing harder against your thigh, twitching almost to be freed. You wanted so desperately to touch him, to provide him some relief as well, but you weren't sure you were allowed.

Not when it seemed that Jihoon was adamant about providing you pleasure first. His fingers began to thrust in and out of your pussy. Your juices were coating his fingers as they were pushed all the way.

Jihoon took a moment to admire you in this state. Your chest was starting to rise and fall, just as soft whimpers and moans were leaving your lips. The feeling of your warm pussy clenching onto his fingers just enhanced how beautiful you are. All for him.

His fingers began to curl towards your g-spot which made you gasp. His tongue was poking out of his mouth slightly, a sign of determination you've grown so accustomed to. He also didn't let your clit go unoccupied as his thumb was rubbing fast circles into the bundle of nerves. Jihoon has always been talented with his fingers.

"Is that what you've been missing?" Jihoon asked teasingly.

You shook your head quickly as you made sure to look into his eyes. His fingers were grazing against you g-spot, sure. And you were on the brink of facing your first orgasm, but it's not what you wanted.

Not when it felt like you were being suffocated by the layers you were wearing, or how they were beginning to stick slightly to your skin from the sweat. You wanted to experience a closeness to him you've been craving for one too many nights.

He slowed down your fingers, curious as to what was going on in your mind. His head also tilted, an eyebrow raised as you studied you for a moment. "No? Oh, baby. Use your big girl words."

"I need your cock in me. I want to cum with you in me and to feel you cum in me. I need you to fuck me so hard that I can't move afterwards. Please," you begged him.

Now, who was he to deny you? Especially when you asked so sweetly.

Jihoon's fingers stilled in you as he gazed up into your eyes. You were whimpering, hips subconsciously grinding against his fingers. God, how did he get so lucky? He could see the lust swirling in your eyes.

"Take off your sweatpants baby then mine. I'll give you what you really need."

The moment his fingers slipped out of your sweatpants, you immediately were tugging off your sweatpants. He chuckled at your eagerness. He took the opportunity to slip his fingers into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of your pussy on his fingers. He's missed the taste of you.

Feeling eyes on him, he looked to see you staring at him. Your mouth was slightly open as you watched him suck on his fingers, suck you off his fingers. He was so beautiful.

"Sweet like sugar," he murmured. He moved his fingers out, a soft 'pop'' sound echoing in the room. Due to your heightened awareness, it sounded like a booming stereo. You were just so hyper fixated on him, and could anyone blame you? He was the love of your life.

With your sweatpants now pooled on the ground, you did as Jihoon asked. He lifted his hips up slightly so you could pull off his own grey sweatpants, allowing them to join yours on the floor. Much to your surprise, Jihoon also went without boxer briefs. His cock, once freed, slapped up against his stomach and stood at attention for you.

"You know, I've missed you just as much, angel." His hands reached out to you, pulling you back into his lap. You straddled him once again. This time, you felt his cock brushing against you which sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. Finally, you had him right where you wanted him most.

Leaning forward, you began pressing tiny kisses along the side of his face. His cheeks heated up at the intimate gesture in such a heated moment. You always wanted to remind Jihoon just how loved he is, all of him.

His thumbs caressed your hipbones as he guided you to hover over his cock. "Give me the go-ahead, y/n, baby. I'm ready whenever you are."

Your hands moved to gently rest on his shoulders. Slowly, you ceased your kisses against his skin to be able to pull back and look down at the place where you two would connect. His pre-cum was coating the tip of his cock, which was throbbing and bright red. Jihoon has always been thicker than other guys you've been with. It made your mouth salivate, want to put him in your mouth and suck him dry. But you couldn't deprive yourself of the feeling of his cock in your pussy.

"Please, baby. Don't want any longer. Let go."

That's all he needed to hear. His hands now gripped your fingers, creating small indents in your flesh. He let you sink down onto his cock, sending the two of you groaning at the sensation of being filled with each other.

Before your hips could get to work on riding him, Jihoon took action first. He began thrusting his hips upwards almost instantaneously. He wanted to make sure that you could feel all of him, every inch. You moaned as he stretched you out in ways your own hands or any sex toy could. It was as if he was made for you.

"Is this what you've missed?" he huffed slightly as one particular thrust filled you completely. It made you choke on air at the feeling of him all the way up nearly by your cervix. Holy fuck.

You nodded your head as your forehead soon rested on his. Your eyelashes rested against your cheeks, lips hovering above his. He noticed how flushed your skin has become as you became overtaken by the pleasure and euphoria.

Jihoon grunted lowly as his hips fell into a fast, steady tempo. Just what you liked. His mind and body felt fuzzy yet electrified as the feeling of your pussy, of your body so close to his.

Your juices were starting to coat his bare thighs. The sound of skin smacking against skin, and how wet you were bounced off the walls. It was the most beautiful symphony.

Jihoon could feel his cock pulsate, the familiar burning in his stomach. He didn't want to end what he felt like was just getting started. But you were right there with him, the feeling almost becoming too much for you. Your stomach was tightening, threatening to spill.

"J-Jihoon," you whimpered out. You felt like it was too soon. You wanted to stay inn this moment as long as possible. It felt like if you released too soon, you would be ruining this beautiful moment.

You weren't even aware of the tears that were glossing your eyes. Jihoon looked directly into your hearts. Cooing lightly at the sight of your eyes, he shook his head. "Don't worry, angel. I'm right here with you. You can let go," he promised you. This time, he was the one pressing kisses into your skin.

Jihoon made sure his hips picked up momentum. He was going deeper and harder. The tip of his cock grazing against your g-spot which sent you spiraling. That's all you need to let go.

One of your hands gripped onto his shoulder. The other rested on the back of his head. Jihoon always loved the feeling of your fingers in his hair. It brought him so much comfort and pleasure.

On one particular thrust, you lost it. You cried out in ecstasy as your vision went white, almost as if you had been catapulted into the stars. Your back arched gently, as Jihoon ensured his arms were wrapped around you to support you.

Jihoon's eyes widened as he felt you squirt. Hard. All over himself, you, and the leather seat beneath the two of you. Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing he's ever witnessed.

Your body began to tremble, burying your face into his shoulder. Your fingernails were running along his scalp as if you were trying to bring yourself down to reality while simultaneously comforting him. For what? He wasn't sure. However, his heart was swelling with love at the sentiment. You always placed him before yourself.

Soft whimpers were leaving your lips as Jihoon was still thrusting. He cooed into your ear, kissing the shell of it gently. "I know, angel. I know. Be patient with me. I'm almost there."

All you could do was nod your head. You tried lifting your hips to help bring Jihoon closer to the edge, but he had it under control. The feeling of your trembling body against his, as well as the memory and evidence of your orgasm clouding his mind, helped bring him to the edge. He let out a loud groan as he thrusted one last time before spilling his cum into you.

Another whimper left your lips. You always loved the feeling of feeling so full of Lee Jihoon, both during and after sex. His white seed painted your walls, but some already spilling and dropping onto the leather seat.

This was the one type of mess Jihoon could tolerate.

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Jihoon's fingers were typing away at the speed of light. Words that became lyrics that turned into verses flooded his mind. He was trying his hardest to get it all scribbled down, so he could at least give something to the company on Sunday.

"Finally," he spoke under his breath. His voice was deeper, exhaustion evident. He had finally put something together.

And better yet, he could spend tomorrow solely focused on you. He smiled seeing the words on his work computer, ready to be shared and for feedback.

He glanced up at the clock once again. 5:12am. After ensuring the work had been saved to his computer, he was satisfied. Now he could return to his priorities.

Spinning in the chair, he was greeted by the sight of you. You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt Jihoon leaves around. I mean, the man is known to spend days locked away from the rest of the world, so keeping a spare change of clothes was essential to his survival. And much to your happiness, you were able to be wrapped up in clothes that smelled just like him.

The sight of you curled up on the couch, hunkering underneath a blanket made him feel so soft. He felt protective over you, knowing he was the only person who could provide you all the finer things in life but also humbled that you chose him. You just were delicate, the whole universe in his eyes.

"Come on, pretty baby. Let's go home."

[drabblesandimagines]

Home

Leon Kennedy x female reader I just wanted to write some damsel in distress nonsense with Death Island Leon, but imagine whoever you like! Fluff - though mentions of blood, smatter of death.

Coming to, you feel as if you’re hungover - disorientated, nauseous and a sore head - but that can’t be right, you didn’t drink last night.

It takes a moment to localize the throbbing pain only to the side of your head rather than all over and, as you catch sight of blood smeared against the white tiles of the kitchen floor – something you were desperate to change as white shows up everything­ - you remember.

You’d been working in the home office. Leon had set it up for himself originally – you’d never been brave enough to research what the price of the beautiful mahogany desk must’ve been, but you’re always sure to use a coaster to avoid marking it. He used a laptop, so he’d insisted you utilize the space instead for your desktop when you moved in over a year ago. It was a nice house, on a quiet, suburban street – he’d bought it as a fixer-upper, a bit of a passion project. The rooms were all in various states of completion but he wanted your opinion and input.

“This is our home,” he’d stressed, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Plus, you’ll be here more than me…”

You’d heard of the conspiracy theories surrounding the Raccoon City incident. Who hadn’t stumbled down that rabbit hole before? Leon had confirmed it in vague, half-told recollections of the night a few months into your relationship after an argument about his commitment issues, and you hadn’t pressed further than that since. He told you the bare minimum so you were aware of what his work now entailed, why he had to go away for weeks at a time, why he was so desperate to keep his work and personal life separate for your safety and protection.

He accompanied you when he could to family and friends’ celebrations, charmed them all into forgiving him for his flaky appearances, but they could all see how happy you were since the two of you had got together.  

You’d been wearing noise-cancelling headphones as you worked to drown out the next door neighbour’s relentless building works that had started on Monday – a basement leak meant the foundations were being fixed and the noise was horrendous - and had gone to the kitchen to make an ill-advised afternoon coffee and…

Nothing.

Well, the building works have stopped which is a positive, but that doesn’t negate the blood on the floor and your thudding head.

“Mrs Kennedy, I presume.” A man, well-dressed in an awful tight-fitting suit kneels down in front of you. He doesn’t look familiar - blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bit of stubble, looking tired, mid-40s, you guessed. You’re confused by the way he’s addressed you – you’re not married, there’s no ring there - and he clocks the bemused expression at once. “Or perhaps you’re his whore, waiting for him to return to your little love nest, hm?”

There’s no good answer or witty comeback so you keep silent, instead trying to raise your hand to feel your head, gage how bad it is – head wounds bleed a lot, you knew that much – but your arm doesn’t comply. Your gaze finds the plastic of the zip-tie cutting into your wrist, holding it snugly against the arm of the chair you’re now seated in - dragged in from the dining room.

“Ah, yes.” He cups your chin, tilting your face back towards him in an effort to get you to focus on him. “A necessary measure. I need you to play the damsel in distress.”

“Leon’s not here,” you reply, quietly, words feeling thick on your tongue though it’s not a lie. “He’s away with work - I don’t know when he’s going to be back.”

“Oh, he’s due home very soon. I couldn’t make such a pretty thing wait for days on end.” He lets go of your chin only to place his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You try to jerk away from his touch but find your ankles have received the same treatment as your wrists, though tethered together as if to stop you standing.

“I apologize about your head,” he stands up then, a smug look on his face as he towers over you. “I did tell my men to be gentle, but it appears one misunderstood.”

You shuffle in the chair in a pitiful attempt of relieving the pressure on your wrists. “Who are you?”

He clucks his tongue. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Kennedy’s ETA is four minutes, sir.” A gruff voice states from behind you.

“Excellent.” Your captor smiles. “I suppose he was hoping to surprise you with his arrival, hm? Nice that we can turn the surprise around on him.” He snaps his fingers at one of his subordinates, “You can gag her now.”

A hand yanks your hair, forcing your head back and you gasp only for a wad of fabric to be stuffed behind your teeth. You try and push it out with your tongue on instinct but another bit of fabric is forced between your lips, keeping it snugly in place as it’s knotted at the back of your head, causing you to whimper – or at least attempt - when he brushes up against your head wound.

There’s a hive of activity around you – the three grunts getting into position, checking their ammo. They can’t just plan to shoot Leon outright, surely. Why would he need a damsel otherwise? Your captor grabs the back of your chair and drags it, positioning it in line with the hallway door, meaning that you will be the first thing he sees. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes.

“Showtime.”

Your heart is pounding so loud it’s all you can now hear – maybe it’s so loud Leon will hear with that incredibly sensitive hearing he has before he opens the door, know something’s wrong and get the hell out of here.

No such luck, though. The building work next door hasn’t resumed, so you can hear him cut the engine in the driveway, hear when the Jeep door opens and closes, hear the jingle of his keys in the door. He has his eyes cast down when he enters, immediately turning to the lock the door behind him out of both security and habit.

“Sweetpea?” He sounds upbeat, happy as he calls for you and it breaks your heart all the more when he turns, eyes meeting yours. “Fuck.” He breathes out, taking a hurried step forward, hand automatically reaching for his pistol still holstered on his belt. A loud click pierces through your left ear, cold metal prods into the side of your temple and Leon freezes in place.

“Uh-uh, Kennedy. Unless you wanna see your lovely lady’s brains splattered all over the floor, I’d drop that right now.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, holding his hands above his head and dropping the pistol to the ground, hitting the wooden floorboards with a thunk.

“Keep those hands up and kick it over.”

Leon complies, kicking the pistol so it skids down the hallway, swiftly collected by one of the grunts.

“Dante.”

“Oh, I’m flattered you remember little ol’ me. Come - join us.” The gun leaves your temple but the fear remains as Leon slowly strides up the hallway, hands still in the air. “Pull Kennedy up a chair and make sure he’s comfortable.” A grunt ducks into the dining room and emerges with one the armless chairs, placing it down heavily on the kitchen tile as Leon enters. He’s swiftly smacked across the face with the butt of a gun, followed up by a punch to the stomach, causing him to double over. Another grunt grabs his arms, yanking them behind his back and you know by the way his biceps tense that he could break out of that hold easily enough, but he’s choosing not to.

You feel horrible that you’re the reason why he’s not.

He’s pushed down onto the chair and his wrists are quickly secured behind his back with a zip tie through the wooden slats. He lifts his head up to reveal a bloodied lip, but his eyes are immediately on you as he speaks.

“She has nothing to do with me and you, Dante.”

“Oh, I know that.” He scoffs, digging his fingernails into your shoulder once more. “But your little sweetpea is so useful in making sure that you remain on your very best behaviour.”

“You’ve got me now, okay?” Leon shrugs his shoulders in demonstration. “Let her go.”

“Aw,” Dante tuts. “Did you think you had her out of harm’s way, Kennedy? Kept your personal life underwraps? Granted I couldn’t quite confirm her name, but here we are all the same. Pretty little thing – shame she had to get wrapped up with you.”

“What do you want?” You can tell Leon’s annoyed, though he keeps his voice measured.

“The Apollo files.”

Leon raises an eyebrow, scoffing. “I don’t ha- Ugh!” The grunt in front of him had pistol-whipped him once more, his nose now bleeding a little in consequence.

“Next time you tell a lie, your woman is going to get the same treatment.” You grip the armrests in apprehension and Leon once again tenses as he notes your discomfort.

“Okay, okay! They’re in the attic. One of the storage boxes up there – there’s not many. Against the south wall.”

“Good boy.” Dante chuckles, ruffling his hand through the agent’s hair condescendingly. “You two - with me,” he points at two of his men, before turning to the third. “You, keep an eye on the lovebirds.”

“Be careful where you step up there – I haven’t put in a permanent floor. Been busy.” Leon retorts.

“Aw, boys, he’s worried we’ll hurt ourselves.” He grabs Leon by the chin then, squeezing his cheeks. “We’ll be right back. I wouldn’t want to keep this lovely lady waiting any more than she has to.”

He shoves Leon’s face to the side and heads out to the hallway, the two grunts following as the third remains in position to the side, gun in hand.

“I’m so sorry, sweetpea, but I’ll get you out of this – I swear.“ Leon says softly, turning his head to the side to look at you. “Okay?”

You nod – there’s little else you can do – but you know you’re shaking. You hate yourself for doubting him, but you can’t see how the two of you are getting out of this in one piece. He doesn’t say anything more, his eyes flitting from one direction to another as he calculates his moves for what feels like hours.

The building work next door resumes – a loud drilling echoing around the kitchen. The grunt winces at the sound and Leon gets to his feet, arms still bound around the dining chair and headbutts him, sending him stumbling back, blood gushing from a broken nose. Leon spins then, slamming the chair against the marble countertops, splintering the wood and releasing himself from the chair. He then jumps again, tucking his legs impressively close to his chin, though letting out a strangled grunt and his bound hands are now in front of him. He lifts up his knee, tenses his biceps and slams it down, the zip-tie splintering across the floor – all in the time it takes the grunt to come to his senses and aims his gun blindly, sending bullets thankfully in every direction but yours.

Leon ducks and dives, swiftly grabbing the grunt around the neck with an arm and holding it tight, cutting off his air supply until he goes limp in his arms and he grabs hold of the man’s gun, quickly checking the cartridge with one smooth downward motion.

A bullet sails over his shoulder as one of the grunts returns from upstairs and Leon quickly takes him out with a headshot. You divert your eyes then, not wanting to see. It’s them or you – you know that – but it doesn’t make the act easier to witness.

It is barely a second before another gunshot rings out, followed by a second - Dante and the remaining man at the kitchen doorway, though the grunt goes down as quickly as he entered due to Leon’s return fire.

Dante’s face is furious, his gun aimed squarely at your head and he pulls the trigger. Leon sidesweeps the chair legs from under you, sending the chair toppling backwards and you with it, your head smacking once more against the tile and making your ears ring and vision dance with black. The bullet soars over your head and into the kitchen cabinet.

There’s another gunshot, a horrible, squelching sound, and then a series of grunts and groans – flesh on flesh – but you can’t look up, can’t see what’s going on as a succession of gunshots ring out and there’s the sound of a body hitting the floor.

There’s the clatter of a drawer being opened frantically and then, suddenly, Leon is above you – his shoulder bloody – and a knife in his hand. He lifts your head up gently, cutting through the back of the gag and pulls it away from your mouth, fishing out the fabric that had been making you feel close to choking.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He says softly as you catch your breath, taking glorious mouthfuls of air. “Stay still, okay? I’ll get these off you.” He presses the blade against your wrist with a careful flick and you’re released from the first of your restraints. He makes quick work of your other wrist and the ones around your ankles, pulling you up into his arms, cradling you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, rocking you back and forth. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Leon, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s okay. It’s not okay. I promised to never get you mixed up in this. I don’t know how they found this place, how they found you. I’ve been so fucking careful, baby.” His voice breaks, along with your heart.

“I know you have.” You try and soothe. “It’s not fair, but it’s not your fault, sweetheart. I love you.”

He presses his lips to yours then, kissing you softly. “Love you too – so much. Feel so selfish.”

“Uh-uh, no – you deserve to be happy. I want to make you happy.”

“You do, sweetpea, but-“

“If I can’t say it’s okay, you can’t go down this road either and we both can’t pout about it.”

He sniffs, rolls his eyes and you finally remember the blood patch on his shoulder.

“Did you get shot?” He shakes his head. “Grazed me. I’m fine. You, however, need a full check-up.”

“If I’m having one, you’re having one too. We can have a date to the emergency room.”

He laughs – it’s nice to hear, to see the smile reaching his eyes. “I owe you a much better date than that.”

“Nah – maybe they’ll put you in a hospital gown.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“What?” You bite your lip.

“The ones that don’t tie at the back?”

“Oh, don’t they? Interesting.”

He kisses you again then, with a bit more passion than before. “Baby, you do not have to get me in a hospital gown to see my ass.”

“Who said anything about seeing your ass? Get your head out the gutter, Mr Kennedy.”

Leon rolls his eyes once more, getting to his feet with ease with you still in his arms. He pushes your face into his chest as he walks towards the front door.

“Leon, no, you need to rest your shoulder. Put me down - I can walk.”

“Don’t want you to see.” He murmurs. “I’m gonna get you in the Jeep, call work quickly – they’ll come sort this mess – then straight to the hospital.”

You keep quiet then, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent as you nuzzle your head against his chest, a realisation hitting you.

“We won’t be coming back here, will we?”

He pauses, fiddling with the keys in lock.

“I’m sorry. I know you were finally feeling at home here and-”

“No.” You cut him off. “Home is us together – wherever. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He opens the door. “You’re right. Home is with you, sweetpea.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[phoward89]

Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it

“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole. 

He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you. 

After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.

“Yep.” You popped your tongue.

“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.

“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.

A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.

Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem. 

A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion. 

But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.

And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.

“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.

“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.

“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.

You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.

Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.

For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.

And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see. 

Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.

And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.

“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”

“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”

You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.

You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down. 

Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.

And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.

“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”

“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.” 

“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit. 

Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”

Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.

“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.

“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.

“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.

“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv. 

A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.

But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly. 

It turned him on.

“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.

“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.

You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips. 

“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”

“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.

Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.

Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.

Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).

“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”

“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.

Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.

“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.

Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world. 

“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.

His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.

Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”

“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.

“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars. 

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.” 

“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.

And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”

“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you. 

Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again. 

And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.

He cares a lot.

And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.

And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.

He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.

But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.

And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.

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

[thefangirlfever]

Sexy dbf! Miguel that, dominant dbf! Miguel this... What about corny and soft dbf! MIiguel?

Like dbf! Miguel making dad jokes.

dbf! Miguel who is bad with a computer, like really bad it's actually funny.

dbf! Miguel who falls asleep in the middle of watching TV, his glasses dangling from his nose as he quietly snores?

What about dbf! Miguel who sings badly but proudly at the top of his longs during every car ride the bangers from his younger days?

Dbf! Miguel whose passion is like puzzles. He is actually very good at this. And even if he feels a bit embarrassed to show them to you, you're never judgmental with him. And he feels more and more confident to show you the small scale models he makes during his free time. Like this man is skilled with his hands (in more ways than one) and he likes this type of hobbies who allow him to relax.

dbf! Miguel who always guesses the culprit during a thriller. You don't know how he does that but he is always right.

What about dbf! Miguel who is so embarrassed that he actually turns red when you discover old pictures of him with his very questionable fashion sense from the 90s?

dbf! Miguel who snuggles up with you on the couch to watch old movies with you during a rainy day, remembering how he used to see them in the theaters when they came out and now they are this easily available and he can enjoy them with you.

dbf! Miguel who laughs with you when you both watch an old horror movie together, trying to convince you that it was actually scary at the time. But all you can see are the poor special effects, the pathetic plastic mannequin supposed to be a dead body...but it doesn't care if the movie you're watching socks because you're actually together.

What about insecure dbf!Miguel who starts panicking when he notices a few grey hair on his head. And he turns all sheepish and looks at you with a guilty look when you stumble upon him trying to dye his grey roots.

Absolutely flustered dbf!Miguel who squirms and blushes slightly when you tell him that he doesn't need to hide himself, to hide anything or that his hair shines like silver.

================================

I think I like dbf! Miguel because this AU allows us to imagine Miguel getting older, which is something he might not be able to do because of his dangerous life and his mutation. Like, I want that man to experience a real, peaceful life at some point.

That's enough delusion for today. I'll leave you with these thoughts ~

Edit: thanks for the 200 likes, folks. I'm so glad you liked this 🌻

[strawb3rrystar]

angel dust x reader fluff where reader shows angel that he loves him for more than just his body?

More than limbs.

Pairing: Angel Dust x GN! Overlord! Reader

Warnings: None really, light mentions of Val (ew)

Word count: 528

✰Masterlist

Angel looks down at your intertwined hands for the umpteenth time. Still shocked that your holding had with him in public. Most of the sinners he's been with have never shown him affection in public. The way you do it so causality, with not a care in Hell makes him flustered.

You decided to take Angel out on the town for a day of shopping. No one knew about your relationship outside of the hotel. For very obvious reasons. But, you weren't on too busy of a street now, so you felt comfortable enough to hold Angel's hand.

As the two of you walk, Angel tries to direct his attention somewhere else. He decides to look at the window displays in stores as you pass by. An outfit catches his eye, causing him to stop abruptly. You stumble a little at the sudden halt, looking at Angel. You quickly notice his eyes on the outfit. "Do you like it?"

You ask, stepping beside him. He looks embarrassed that you caught him looking, but he nods his head. With that, you start pulling him towards the front door of the store. Angel finally tuned back in when he was in the dressing room with the outfit in his hands. Perfectly his size. Most of the time he would be giving a size smaller, with the purpose of it to squeeze him in all the wrong places. Just another form of torment for the spider.

He had to admit, the outfit looked amazing on him. He stepped out of the dressing room, your eyes lighting up when you see him. "It looks good on you."

You smile, making his body feel like it's on fire. "Thanks, toots. But it's like 300 dollars."

Angel mentions, his shoulders tensing. You usher him back into the dressing room, a calm expression on your face. "Don't worry about it. Just go get changed, then bring that out to me."

By the time Angel comes out of the dressing room, you're waiting by the cash register. Your eyes on him as he walks towards you. You make him feel like he's the only sinner in hell sometimes. Like nothing else matters to you but him. He had your undivided attention.

You pay for it as if it was only pocket change. Grabbing the bag the outfit was placed in, and then your palm meets him again. The two of you are walking down the street once again. "You didn't have to do that, you know?"

You look at him, your eyebrows rising. "What do you mean? Am I not allowed to buy an outfit for my gorgeous boyfriend?"

"Well, you don't have to spend all that money on me." Angel replies, trying to convince you.

"Relax." You say softly, rubbing your thumb on top of his. "I would give up every penny for you."

Before Angel can reply, you pull him in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. The type that leaves his heart racing for you. And you kissed him right there, on the street, in front of everyone. You pull away a few seconds later, giving his cheek a pinch. "Every penny."

Star's notes -> Yall seem to love my fluffy Angel Dust fics, huh?

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

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[freelancearsonist]

in shades of gray and candlelight

➔ Marcus Pike x fem!Reader - 7.2k

➔ Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

➔ Rated MA for artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily [please let me know if i missed any at all :)]

➔ this is my (first 😈) submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! i really did mean for this to be a drabble especially since i didn't know anything about marcus before receiving this prompt but he has my whole fucking heart and mind now 😩 thank you so much for the challenge lovely kel, and special thank u to my baby @fhatbhabie for betaing and screaming with me ily <3 (dividers by the amazing and talented @saradika-graphics)

You meet Marcus Pike on a Friday night and it’s obvious from the start that he’s going to change your life forever.

He looks a little disheveled when he enters the gallery–brown hair ruffled and standing up in places, tie loose, top shirt button undone. There’s an alluring five o’clock shadow burgeoning across his jaw and cheeks. He looks like he’s had a long day, and it’s only going to get longer. It’s all part of the plan, of course. He’s supposed to look like a standard blue collar worker, and he pulls it off with ease.

It’s the exhibition’s opening night, so it’s a little more packed than the gallery normally would be. It works in his favor–he’s able to collect a plastic cup of champagne from the refreshment table and blend seamlessly into the crowd.

His eyes are diligent as they scan the faces that come and go. He tries to commit them all to memory–the tall woman with the slight limp, the short guy wearing the Hawaiian patterned shirt. There’s dozens of people that pass by, and so many of them are forgettable. It’s exhibitions like these that make him dread undercover work.

The art on the walls isn’t exceptional, but it’s not bad. Nothing that seems worth stealing, that’s for sure. But his source is good, and his source said that this place was getting hit tonight. So he keeps his watchful eyes vigilant and pretends to sip the champagne in his hand.

Until he finds your exhibit.

There’s a depth to your art that he’s come to be familiar with–something he sees often in work of high value. Anyone can make abstract art, it’s as simple as flicking paint at a canvas. But few can charge it as emotionally as you have. To convey feeling and passion and heart through abstraction is a separate art form all its own, and it’s one you’ve mastered.

He’s seen original Rothko’s, Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s; he’s held their frames in his own two hands. But nothing’s ever made his breath hitch in his throat quite the way yours does.

He stands in front of a canvas simply labeled “Waves In Motion” with your name printed neatly underneath, brow creased with a concentration that seems a little unnecessary given the subject matter of the painting. It’s all shades of blue and violet, swirling together in a way that seems partly sensuous, partly violent. It makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and he takes a step closer. That’s when he notices it: a single dot of red paint right in the middle, a focal point of all the swirling cobalts. So small that he wouldn’t notice it if he wasn’t close; so small it could almost be interpreted as a mistake.

But he knows without having to ask that it’s not an answer. He wonders who that dot represents: you, the artist? Most likely.

Without meaning to, he smiles. It’s been a long time, years really, since a piece of art provoked such thought. 

“Hi.”

The voice Marcus hears next to him is soft, dulcet. He doesn’t turn to the noise quickly–from the tone in that word alone he senses a hesitance, as if you’re a fawn that’s lost its mother and you’re bound to run if he makes any sudden movements.

And, truth be told, part of him thinks he might not be able to look away even if he tried right now. There’s something so beautiful about this painting–and underneath, something so ominous. There’s an air about the work that says he might unlock the secrets of the universe if he just keeps looking.

“Hi there.” He keeps his eyes trained on “Waves In Motion” as he responds–playing the game. He’s here to brush shoulders, after all; to be the right amount of forgettable yet memorable. 

“This is my best, I think,” you murmur while taking a step closer. “It took the least time of all of them, surprisingly. But… I think when you know exactly what you’re trying to convey, it just comes to you easily.”

“These are yours?” There’s admiration in his eyes and an air of something akin to disbelief in his voice as he takes in the group of canvases proudly displayed on the plain white gallery walls.

And then he turns and lets himself take you in. More specifically the curling strand of hair that falls out of your updo to frame your face, the deeply plunging neckline of your dress, the way your calf muscles work even standing still in your high-heeled shoes. You’re a work of art in your own right; the most beautiful piece he’s seen in a long time.

“Yeah.” You duck your head–shyly, modestly–and he’s hooked. There’s one thing in this building that deserves awe and reverence more than your painting, and it’s you. “You know, you’re only the second person who’s come over tonight.”

“No way. They’re all just working their way back here,” he whispers before he can calculate a more articulate response.

But it works in his favor–your giggle is gorgeous, if a sound can be described that way. Sweet and syrupy, it seeps over him as if he’s standing under a cracked honeycomb. He hasn’t actually taken a drink of his champagne, and yet he can feel his nervous system tingling. You’re just that intoxicating.

“The gallery closes in half an hour,” you tell him–a little wistfully at that. “In my defense, I don’t have any family or friends in the area. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show, not with so many other talented artists here.”

It seems so indignantly unfair to Marcus. That you’re shoved into the far back corner of the gallery, that people haven’t come in droves from all over the country to see your work.

“Where are you from?” He asks as his mind finally starts to clear from the haze it’s been in the past few minutes. With only half an hour left on the job, he allows himself a small sip of the drink that he’s been cradling all night.

“New York. This is actually only my second exhibition,” you explain, and you almost sound shy about it; as if you need to be embarrassed about being young and fresh-faced in the art industry, as if you aren’t the most talented artist Marcus has ever met in person.

He hums in response, eyes unconsciously dragging over you once more. “You came a long way for this.”

You smile so prettily up at him, and in that moment he sees something in your eyes. He can’t describe it–maybe it’s something akin to longing. Something incomplete, unexplored. It’s familiar; it’s the red dot from your painting. Solitary amidst the swirling, lost yet not hopeless.

And just like your painting, he finds himself wanting to get lost in your eyes.

“Well, it’s not every day a gallery wants to host you,” you say after another sip of your drink. “Plus, I’ve never been to Texas before, and I needed a change of scenery.”

There’s something so charming, so boyishly intoxicating about the smile he graces you with. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s hotter than I’m used to,” you say with a chuckle that he echoes. “And I haven’t been able to do any exploring yet, my flight only got in a couple hours before I had to be here.”

“That’s a shame,” he hums in a tone that reveals deeper meaning. “How long are you here for? Do you have any plans?”

“A week,” you murmur. Subconsciously he leans in closer, on the edge of his proverbial seat. To seal the deal, you lean in too. “And not a damned one.”

There’s no air between you and Marcus. You exist in a vacuum for this moment–unable to breathe, choking on anticipation. He’s so close, yet way too far away. You want to be consumed by him–for him to be swirling blue; and you, a single speck of red in his midst.

The moment shatters with an audible sound–a deep, penetrating voice. “He’s still not here, huh? I don’t think your boyfriend’s coming. If he even exists.” There’s something strange in the raspy voice that drawls these words–something strange enough to immediately put Marcus on the alert.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion into your vacuum, but you recover quickly. You have to, because this intrusive stranger is standing way too close and has way too much alcohol on his breath.

And then something strange happens–you worm your arm around Marcus’s waist and press yourself firmly into his side.

“Actually, he’s right here,” you say. There’s a quality to your voice that wasn’t there before when you were just talking to Marcus–it’s firm, clipped, bordering on hostile. “He just got held up at work. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Thankfully, Marcus has always been one to think quickly on his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, unconsciously moving an inch or two in front of you. Protecting without really meaning to. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as soon as I could.”

The man–burly and balding, probably a good twenty years older than you–scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Is there a problem here?” Marcus draws up to his full height–towering a good few inches over this strange intruder.

Whoever this guy is, he’s not completely stupid. He senses this isn’t going to be a fight he’ll win, so he backs off. “Not at all, man. Just didn’t want little miss standing here all alone the whole night.”

“Thanks,” you say with bitter reprehension. You wind even closer to Marcus–closer than this sudden farce demands. “But we’re fine now.”

He nods once–curt and unhappy, but seemingly satisfied that he’s not going to get what he wants. “Have a good night, ma’am. Sir.”

Marcus takes a mental inventory of the man as he storms off, committing his physical description and his outfit to memory. He doesn’t look like a casual art viewer, and he doesn’t look like a collector. He’s exactly the type that Marcus came here to look out for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you step out of Marcus’s personal space. “He’s been hovering all night, asking me who I’m going home with and shit.”

“That’s the other guy who came over to talk to you?” It brings a deep frown to his face, a crease forming between his brows. It certainly raises a red flag–if the guy has any eye for value, of course he would be drawn to your exhibit. And if he has an eye for value, he could be the guy Marcus came for.

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and avert your gaze, as if you should be embarrassed for drawing that guy’s attention. “It’s not been the greatest night.”

Marcus hates that. He hates that you came all this way to be let down, that this is only your second exhibition and you’ve had such a bad experience with it. More than anything, he hates that he can still see the spark in your eyes when you look up at him, and he can tell that it’s dimmed.

“Gimme just a minute.”

He doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he wants to make it quick. He hustles to the single-stall men’s room and tugs the radio out of his inside jacket pocket to call in the man’s description. Then he turns it off, tucks it back into its concealed pocket, and goes over to the sink.

He thought he looked perfect for the part he had to play when he left his house to come here. Now, he’s too disheveled. He wets his fingertips and tries to tame the mess on top of his head; he re-buttons his shirt and tightens his tie. He looks flustered, and he’s not even surprised by it. You’ve got his heart pounding with anticipation in a way he doesn’t think it ever has before.

Butterflies fluttering on in his stomach, he emerges from the restroom to resume his position by your side.

Except you’re not by your exhibit anymore, and the crowd has thinned considerably. He checks his watch and realizes there’s only five minutes before the gallery closes for the night. Maybe you’ve decided to cut your losses and leave early.

He hates the way his gut twists with disappointment, but then he reminds himself that he didn’t come here for you. He’s working, and he needs to stay vigilant. No distractions, no complications.

“You’re still here.”

There’s a wave of relief that washes over him as he hears your voice, and this time he’s not too timid to turn towards you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thought I might’ve scared you off.” There’s a fresh cup of champagne in your hand and a hint of vulnerability in your voice, and it makes his heart pick up pace just the slightest bit. You duck your head–that shy, modest gesture again. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just done that without permission.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, more earnestly than he’s ever said anything in his life. “I didn’t mind at all, I swear. Just had to hit the head.”

You look so deeply into his eyes he almost wonders if you aren’t looking through him. But whatever you find, you must like it.

He clears his throat and tries to not show how thoroughly unraveled he is by your gaze. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.” You pause for a moment, and he can tell that there’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue–so he remains silent in hopes of drawing it out.

“Do you have someone to go home to?”

There it is–the invitation he was both dreading and hoping for. He should really lie. He’s here on a job, after all–he’s supposed to avoid complications, and some instinct tells him you’re going to be much more than a simple distraction. But he’s told you the truth so far, and he doesn’t want to stop now.

“No. No, I don’t.”

This is everything that Marcus has never even considered doing. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s a little chilly for spring in Austin. The alley is grimey and drafty–your hair blows in the breeze even as you kneel down before him.

All he can do is stand there, dumbstruck with his back up against the rough brick wall, and stare down at you. 

He’s still breathless from the way you’ve been kissing him–all heat and passion, fire and brimstone. Your hands ran through his hair and undid the effort he put in while in the bathroom, and his hands clutched your waist in a futile attempt to ground himself. Your lips are so soft; he thinks he could kiss you forever and never get tired of it. He was certainly planning on finding out, until you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“You… you don’t have to–”

But the way you look up at him through your lashes makes his throat close up around whatever protest he was going to try.

“I want to,” you assure him–more of a purr than a spoken statement.

And this really isn’t the place. He shouldn’t let you do this here. But he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him harden in his boring gray work slacks.

Marcus has never been about excitement. He’s always strayed to the comfortable and familiar–he falls into the sweet, caring companion role with grace and ease.

And tonight doesn’t have to be that different. If you’re going to suck his dick in a dark, dingey alley, he’ll let you. But he’s going to lay his jacket down on the ground so you don’t scrape up your knees first.

You keen at the thoughtful gesture and grace him with a grateful smile as your adept fingers work his belt open. He’s straining against the seam of his pants now, begging for the attention that your gaze promises him.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re every bit as eager to get his trousers and boxers down as he is.

And Lord help him, he delights in the gasp you emit when his cock springs free from its confines.

“Fuck, Marcus.” Your lips actually part as you freeze for a moment, just taking him in. He’s thick, maybe an inch longer than average, swollen head peeking through uncut skin as if begging for your waiting mouth. He curves to the left just a little bit, and you can almost see his pulse thrumming through the prominent vein that runs along the length of him.

“S’not that impressive,” he mumbles, and you know that he knows that he’s full of shit.

Your fingers almost don’t wrap all the way around him, and suddenly you’re second-guessing this back alley stint, too. You want him in bed. You want him deep inside you, kissing your face as he fucks you, hands all over your body, thrusts hard yet slow. You want it languid, you want it desperate, you want it any way he’ll give it to you. You don’t want to blow him and say goodbye.

He calculates your hesitation as something other than pure unadulterated lust, and he lifts your chin gently with his index and middle fingers.

“Hey, we don’t have to–”

Again, you cut him off–this time, by dragging your tongue from the seam of his balls all the way along his length to swirl messily around his tip. You taste every heady inch of him and then moan at the salty foreshadowing on your tongue when you catch a droplet of precum leaking from his slit.

Your hand springs into action with a long, slow stroke along his cock, and then you sink your mouth around him and he moans. Without caution or pretense, like you’re not in an alley that anyone could walk down at any moment. It’s a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be and his head thumps back against the brick wall hard enough to hurt, and even still he’s never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure before in his life.

Your nose meets the neat patch of hair at his base and your free hand comes up to his hip, effectively pinning him against the wall when he tries to buck greedily even further into your mouth.

No one’s ever taken him so relentlessly before. You’re insistent, pressing onward even as you gag on his length, and it makes his balls tighten in a way he’s never felt before. It’s like you’re hungry for him; like you’re doing this more for your own pleasure than for his.

Marcus Pike has been a giver his whole life. Tonight, with you, he finally decides to take.

He’d be embarrassed about how fast he comes if you weren’t so eager for it. You moan around him and push yourself as deep as you can, throat working around him desperately not to choke on the size of him. Before he can warn you he’s spilling into your mouth, maybe more than he’s ever come before, thick and salty but undeniably sweet too. You allow yourself a moment to savor him as he pulses in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head of him in a way that makes him shiver and whine.

He’s panting, nearly light-headed, when you finally pull off of him and press one last gentle kiss over his slit.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, because there’s nothing else to say.

You giggle, and he realizes with a strange wistfulness that he would do anything to keep this girl–a girl he’s just met, a girl who’s leaving to go back to her home on the other side of the country in just a week–smiling and laughing the way she is now.

“My hotel is only a couple blocks away,” you tell him as he helps you to your feet. “Would you like a nightcap?”

You pick up his jacket and dust the grime off it–it makes him chuckle. Everything about this encounter has flown in the face of what he’s used to. 

He’s never felt so alive.

“I would love a nightcap.”

Your senses wake up slower than normal.

First it’s your eyes–they tune in on the bright mid-sunrise light streaming through the open balcony blinds on the far wall. It falls in slivers and shards over the rumpled white hotel-standard bedding–the second thing your senses tune into. Everything is so soft and light, but it’s a little cold too. Especially the other side of the bed; there’s no heat remaining there at all.

You push yourself up with a grunt and let the sheets fall away from your bare torso, tired eyes scanning around the room. You notice clothes scattered all over the floor while your ears wake up enough to hear water running in the bathroom, and you can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads over your face. He’s still here.

Marcus lets the too-hot water wash over him in scalding waves, muscles still a little sore after a long night tangled together with you.

He checked his phone first thing this morning, and the gallery was quiet all night. They think the suspect he radioed in was the guy they were looking for, but they weren’t able to apprehend him. The running theory is that he might’ve recognized Marcus and decided low-value art wasn’t worth the hassle, but one guess is as good as the next until they can bait and catch the guy.

It’s the weekend now, and Marcus is thanking his lucky stars. Not only does he have a successful mission to celebrate, but he has the most beautiful woman in the world to celebrate it with.

He emerges after a few minutes, wet hair messily scattered over his forehead and wide hips straining against a low-slung hotel towel. He’s a languid Saturday morning wet dream on two legs.

“G’morning,” he hums with a smile–he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dip down to hungrily take in your naked torso.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He stalks towards you slowly, eyes darkening with each advancing step. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize he didn’t get his fill of your body last night, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He’s already starting to harden as he drops his towel and crawls over the foot of the bed, surging forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. If last night was desperation and passion, this morning is syrupy and sweet. He explores your mouth slowly, tongue sweeping between your lips and tracing every curve and ridge he can–almost like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

There are universes in the depths of his dark eyes. He may not say exactly what he’s thinking, but you can see it playing out in those baby browns of his. There’s something simmering underneath the surface–something more than just lust or desire.

Something dangerous.

You tug him closer and cup his face in your hands, enjoying the gentle scratch of morning stubble underneath your palms. He surges forward and presses you into the pillows as he settles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs through kisses scattered along the length of your jaw.

You know you probably look like you got run over by a bus–you toss and turn in your sleep, and it always leaves your hair a matted mess. And that’s not even mentioning the slight tremble in your thighs, left over from Marcus’s enthusiastic attention last night. But there’s so much sincerity in his voice; you don’t think he would waste his breath saying it if he didn’t mean it, and that fact alone makes your heart pound with desire.

There’s a syrupy slowness to the way he moves down your body, lips leaving behind heavy wet kisses as he works down your chest and over your stomach.

And it’s almost like he senses the protest working its way up your throat when you feel his hot breath on your thighs, because he looks up at you and there’s sternness in his gaze. You got your fill last night, and now it’s his turn.

“May I?” He looks up at you from the apex of your thighs with big, round puppy eyes that are impossible to refuse–so you nod eagerly and don’t even try.

If you were eager to have him in your mouth last night, he’s desperate.

There’s no hesitation, no build-up. It’s almost aggressive, the way he buries his face in your heat. He laps like a dog at a bowl, hips canting into the mattress involuntarily as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growls into your sopping cunt. “You taste incredible.”

You keen at the praise and card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the damp, spiky strands when his tongue laves heavily over your sensitive clit.

Marcus’s greedy hands grip underneath your thighs and push them as far as you can comfortably spread them. You’re still so sensitive after at least three orgasms last night–you lost count after a point–and it serves to wind your nerves tighter than they’ve ever been wound before.

One hand slides to the junction of your thigh and his thumb comes to take over the pressure on your clit as his tongue plunges between your soaked folds. It’s even more overwhelming like this, and there’s not a thing in the world that you want to do more than let him have his fun. Especially when that hand and his tongue switch spots–his lips seal and suck around your clit while he presses two achingly thick fingers into your waiting entrance.

It actually makes your muscles tighten and your back rise off the bed as he curls his fingers just right to find that spot that makes you fall apart for him. 

He can tell you’re getting close–he’s already so intune with the way your muscles twitch, the change of pitch in your moans. You whine and cry for him the tighter he winds the rubberband, and he’s eager to make it snap.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says over the overwhelming flutter of his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Let me have it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly as pleasure wracks through your body that you can see constellations. Large hands come to pin your thighs open as his tongue keeps working, lapping and gliding against your cunt with ease as a wave of arousal gushes from your entrance.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, and he’s just getting started.

He trails open-mouthed kisses up your body as you catch your breath–his slick-soaked lips coat your skin with your own arousal as he works his way up to allow you a taste of yourself.

The first wet lick of his tongue into your mouth makes you moan. It’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own slick–you’ve had a moment or two of curiosity–but it’s never been quite as enjoyable as it is on his tongue. It pairs so perfectly with the minty tang of toothpaste left on his breath and makes you hungry for more.

He moves fluidly under your direction as you push him onto his back and roll to straddle his lap all in one graceful movement. It’s perfect like this–he doesn’t have to support his weight so he can run his big meaty hands all over every inch of you, and you can kiss him as deep as you want while you grind down on his aching length.

“Shit, baby,” he pants against your lips. Those aforementioned beefy palms grasp hard at your asscheeks to guide your hips, pulling you into a slow, long grind that bumps the head of his cock against your clit deliciously.

Your pulse thrums with desperation until you’re seeing white–no more teasing, no more preamble. You take his girth in your hand and give him a firm stroke; if you had a little more presence of mind, you might be embarrassed at how wet his dick is simply from grinding against you for a few seconds.

“Go ahead, baby, take it when you’re ready.”

He gasps at the first press of his cockhead against your entrance, head flopping back against the pillows as his hands squeeze your asscheeks with bruising force.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he murmurs, throat working around a thick gulp. “You can take it baby, I know you can. Did so good for me last night.”

You think you would honestly do anything he asks of you so long as he just keeps talking like this.

It takes a moment for you to work your way down his length–he’s so mouth-wateringly thick and the curve of his cock hits the most delicious spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Atta girl,” he praises breathlessly as your hips settle flush against his. “Just sit there for a minute. So pretty on my dick.”

God, he makes your entire body flush with heat. He turns your blood to molten lava with his words, lighting every inch of skin on fire. You’ve never felt a sensation like this–so overwhelming yet so intoxicating.

You start with slow movements as his hands trace up and down your sides sweetly–it’s more like you’re grinding on him than anything else. His thumbs rub abstract little patterns into your skin as his hands work up to your tits; when he finally takes them in the palms of his hands and squeezes all pretense of soft, sweet morning-after sex flies out the window.

You drop down hard on his cock and it nearly punches the wind out of him. 

“Yes!” He growls darkly. His eyes flash with something dangerous–it’s the only warning you get before his hand slaps the meat of your ass and grabs a greedy handful. “Just like that baby, use my fuckin’ dick.”

And maybe, if he was someone else, you wouldn’t be nearly as eager to follow instructions. But with Marcus, you’re nothing if not obedient.

Last night was exploration and discovery–hours into the early morning spent learning each other’s bodies, finding what makes the other squirm and whine and beg. This morning is in perfect juxtaposition to that sweet, soft, probing sex–you know what drives each other crazy now, and you each use it to your advantage. Aggressively.

He surges up to suck a pert nipple into his mouth as you set a hard pace on him, long fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He lands another sharp smack to your ass when your thighs start to shake–a reward for using his cock exactly how he asked.

”M-Marcus—”

”I know, sweetheart,” he purrs through a guttural moan. He cants his hips up to meet your thrusts at just the right moment—he hits something so devastatingly pleasurable that your vision prickles white around the edges. “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me.”

There’s a condescending note to his voice that only makes you squeeze harder around his cock, and within seconds you’re hurtling uncontrollably into ecstasy.

He fucks you through the telltale fluttering of your cunt even when your hips stop moving; strong hands hold you in place and work you through the ebbing waves of pleasure that wrack through your entire body.

”M’so close, honey,” he grunts with a particularly sharp thrust upward. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Where do you want me?”

”I-inside,” you gasp. “Come inside me, Marcus.”

He fills you as soon as he has your instruction—hard thrusts punctuated by breathy moans as he pumps you full of his release.

There’s a long, silent moment where Marcus pulls your bare chest tightly against his own and you pant into the crook of his neck while trying desperately to even-out your breathing. His fingertips dance across your skin-feather-light, soothing.

The sun is higher in the sky now and meets your eyes with blinding rays through the balcony shutters when they finally open again.

”That was amazing, honey,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s caught his own breath now, but he doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. “How’re you so perfect?”

”M’not perfect,” you mumble into his shoulder; but even to your own ears, it sounds half-hearted. The truth is, he’s so earnestly honest that you believe him.

He hums his dissent with a kiss pressed to your hairline. ”You are to me.”

And you so desperately want to believe him that you don’t even try to argue.

You bask in this warm, lovely afterglow for a few moments longer before Marcus gently taps your hip. ”Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You pull off of his softened cock with a whine and try not to get worked up all over again at the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. ”Th-there’s a free continental breakfast downstairs.”

”Oh, then I’ll definitely pick up the tab,” he jokes with a smirk—all you want to do is kiss his goofy, stupidly handsome face.

He pulls you into the bathroom and starts the water running to fill the tub—he’s never really been a bath guy, but your legs are a little too shaky to endure a shower. He’s so attentive—from running a damp cloth between your legs to helping lower you into the water. He doesn’t complain in the slightest when you catch his hand and ask him to join you; he just shuffles you forward and slides in behind you like it’s a casual act that he performs with every hookup.

It’s intimate. That’s really the only way to describe it. You sit between his spread legs, back to his chest, head rested back against his shoulder while his fingers ghost idle paths over your skin. You don’t talk; you don’t really need to. Somehow, you fit together like souls who have known each other for years. Like all you’ve been missing is each other.

You drift off in his arms as he traces soap over all the curves and ridge of your body, the steady beat of his heart thumping in your ear.

It breaks his heart a little bit to wake you—the fact that you’re so comfortable with him, that you trust him with such vulnerability, makes his head spin a little bit. But the water’s turning cold, and the last thing he wants is for you to come down sick or something.

He rouses you with gentle, feathery kisses scattered over your rosy-scented shoulders and neck.

”Mmm… what time is it?” You grumble, pressing your sleep-addled face further into the crook of his neck.

”Just after noon,” he whispers into your hair after glancing up at the clock on the wall.

He can feel the way your mouth shifts into a pout. “Shit. We missed breakfast.”

The adorable downward tilt of your frown as you lift your dad to look at him makes his heart flutter. “Let’s go out, then. The first farmer’s market of the season is going on downtown. I’m sure we can find something good for brunch.”

”Kinda sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you hum with a slight smirk dancing at your lips.

”Maybe I am.” His tone is light, his meaning clear—he knows this goes beyond a one-night stand, and there’s no harm done if you’re not wanting to cross this boundary. He’d understand not wanting to get too serious about someone who lives thousands of miles away from your home, of course. He’d never blame you.

You give him your best appraising look, staring deep into those constellation-filled brown eyes. ”You’re not sick of me yet?”

”I have a feeling I couldn’t get sick of you if I tried.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone, in his eyes. He genuinely wants to spend time with you, even if there’s nowhere for this to really go.

You hum thoughtfully. “I do love farmer’s markets.”

You’re with Marcus more often than not over the course of the next week.

He takes you sightseeing to some of his favorite spots around Austin, brings you to his favorite restaurants, shows you his favorite movies. But he multitasks—while teaching you about himself, he learns as much as he can about you and picks activities he knows you’ll love, too. 

He’s a pragmatist; he knows your time together is short, and he wants to make himself unforgettable. If he never sees you again, he wants you to think about him every once in a while and look back on this time fondly.

You spend your days while Marcus is at work painting or drawing or lingering around the gallery, and you fall asleep in his arms every night. With shades of gray moonlight and candlelight cast over your hotel room, it almost feels like this could go on forever.

He tells you to wear something nice before he picks you up on the last night–he wants to celebrate in style, which starts with reservations at an up-scale restaurant. 

He’s so achingly handsome. He’s in a matching gray suit over a white button-up, top two buttons undone and no tie to be seen. His face bears the slightest five o’clock shadow and your eyes gravitate to the curve of his lips–the instant smile that takes over his face when those gorgeous brown eyes of his land on you.

If you never see him again, this is exactly how you want to remember him.

“Wow,” he whispers reverently. “You look amazing.”

It’s not the most impressive dress you own, but he looks at you like you’re wearing something worth millions–like you’re worth millions.

You lean up and kiss him, and everything feels right. His hands rest on your waist and it’s so easy to pretend that you won’t be on the other side of the country twenty-four hours from now.

The restaurant is beautiful. Dimly lit and romantic, tables spaced enough to give you some privacy. He takes your hand on top of the table and holds it the entire meal. The conversation is light and airy–you’re both stubbornly dancing around what really needs to be said.

Dessert is cleared and the wine bottle is empty by the time Marcus finally works up the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I don’t want you to go.”

You knew this would be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You avert your gaze, instead focusing on his large hand wrapped around yours and the windshield wiper motion of his thumb tracing back and forth over your palm. No one’s touch has ever sent such electric tingles through your nervous system the way his does.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all.

“Look, I…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his spine a little bit, hand leaving yours to gently cup your chin. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he breaks your heart. “I think this could really be something, if we gave it a shot.”

You haven’t lied to him yet, and you don’t plan to start now. “I… I think it could, too. If I didn’t have to go back.”

“Don’t go back then.” There’s a firmness to his voice, but it couldn’t be any more obvious that he’s begging if he actually got down on his knees. “Stay here with me. We’ll figure this out. Just… don’t go.”

And here–with his earnest eyes on yours and his gentle, loving touch on your skin–it’s easy to pretend that it’s that simple.

He takes you back to your hotel room and sheds you easily out of your dress. As cliche as it sounds, it’s not just sex this time. Things that it’s too early to say are buried deep within every kiss, every thrust. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and looks deeply into your eyes while he fills you and you’ve never felt so overwhelmingly connected.

The thud of his heartbeat is insistent in your ear as you come down from your high–so calming, so heartbreaking. You lay on his chest while his breathing evens out and soak up these last few moments of bliss. And then, once you’re sure he’s sound asleep, you carefully worm out of his grip. There’s one more thing you have to do before you go back to New York.

Loud, insistent ringing pulls Marcus from the depths of sleep. He tries to ignore it and go back to sleep, but now that his senses are alert, the sound in combination with bright Saturday morning sunlight won’t allow him the luxury. He presses his face deeper into the pillow that he’s somehow wound himself around in his sleep, but that damned ringing won’t stop.

He sits up slowly and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes–and that’s when he notices the empty sheets next to him. Your side of the bed is long cold, and he knows. Before he even sees the note on the dresser and your room key next to it, he knows you’re gone.

He finds his trousers discarded halfway between the bed and the door and pulls his blaring phone out of the pocket.

“The gallery got hit sometime early this morning. They took everything. Every goddamn piece. You need to get here now.”

His body moves on autopilot as he pulls yesterday’s clothes back on, fingers numb to all sensation as they work to button his shirt. This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.

He notices the note on the dresser as he’s threading his belt through the loops of his trousers, and his gut twists with a sickening sense of foreboding.

I really did fall for you, Marcus. But nothing good starts in a getaway car.

He’s not sure if you knew who he was the whole time and this whole thing was calculated, or if you just got lucky. He doesn’t want to believe you’re that cunning and cruel. He wants to believe that this is just a misunderstanding, that you’re out for ice or something and you’ll walk back through the door at any moment.

But you don’t.

The note is enough of a confession for him. He’ll have the power of the FBI on his side to find you–and he will find you. What he’ll do when he does, he’s not sure. He guesses he’ll know when he sees you.

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[ryomku]

yellow flowers

synopsis: “when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you”.

tags: choso x reader, fem! reader, fluff, aged up characters, college au!, no curses au!, use of y/n

a/n: i know nothing of nursing nor am i a nurse student or stuff like that so there might be some mistakes on choso´s career, idk it's like 1am and i'm crying

a/n 2: i’m mostly doing this after the leaks of chapter 259 cause i'm still crying and i need something soft in my life right now, this is based on a real experience, sorry if there's any typos english is not my first language

As someone who has never received flowers their whole life you don't get the appeal of such displays of affection, dads giving flowers to moms, boyfriends giving chocolate to their girlfriends, you just didn't see the need for such things.

In your eyes this was something unnecessary and silly, your parents never showed affection towards each other, in reality the only interactions they had were arguments which always occurred very early in the morning, at the hours where everyone is meant to be asleep and that you couldn't help but overhear.

Since they always talked about you and your problems that don't really exist, they were just looking for an excuse to say what they really think about each other.

As time went by you just didn't pay attention to any of those things, you had a very neutral opinion about flower giving, yet there were people who said, “You're a pretty girl. How come you've never received flowers before?” Genuinely you didn't know what to answer since you don't have low self-esteem and you love yourself the way you are because there's nothing wrong with the way you look or feel, so it was something that could not be answered.

Yet on valentine's day one of your friends gave you and your girl friends some plastic roses as a token of appreciation and it genuinely surprised you because for many years (or your entire life) you've never received gifts on valentine's, it was a nice gesture you though you thought it might be the last time you get a flower.

You were proven wrong.

On September of last year you met Choso Kamo on the bus you took on the way to college he was a nursing student, more specifically a phlebotomy technician, in your life have you ever seen someone so passionate about their career, the way in which he spoke about every detail regarding his classes it was hypnotizing it drew you in, suddenly you became friends and later one he introduced you to his friend group.

Soon enough it was a new year full of new classes, new teachers and the same friend group that had your back.

Time flies fast they say and suddenly it's March 21st and somehow the entire campus is covered in yellow. Wherever you walked there was people selling bouquets of sunflowers and daisies, girls all dolled up in pretty dresses, guys wasting ridiculous amounts of money on flower bouquets or in plushies it was weird something wasn't adding up.

What festivity happens today? The thought flooded your mind, you felt and looked clueless about the things that were happening around, still there's no time to waste cuz classes start soon.

10:00 am

Luckily the philosophy of education class was a free hour since the teacher didn't show up, there were so many things you can do in a free hour like eating, sleeping or just hanging out with friends and forcefully you had to choose the last one, against your own will.

“Heh Y/N could you come real quick to the cafeteria near the med students building?” Was the message that Yuki sent you a couple minutes ago.

In your way to said building more couples hugging and kissing surrounded the entire campus, it was getting too uncomfortable with how intense some of them were kissing in public.

Upon arriving at the cafeteria you spotted your friends quickly noticing two flower bouquets in front of Choso.

“Those flowers must be for his siblings. Didn't know Yuuji liked flowers so much.”

That's what anyone would think because since you met Choso he always spoke highly and dearly of his brothers, they were his entire life and his reason for becoming a nurse aside from his interest in the career.

Seeing how Choso cares about his siblings is another thing added to the mental list of things you like about him. Is there someone out there who doesn't have a crush on him? Cuz you find that hard to believe, just by feeling the way you felt nervous and the butterflies in your belly would be going crazy every time he talks to you.

Liking Choso was inevitable, like a storm or a hurricane, it was just meant to happen.

Liking Choso was something that involuntarily at this point in your head was always his face, his voice and even the small hugs he gave you every morning upon arriving at college.

Liking Choso was unexpected, you always thought that you might never have someone to like in your life since you didn't want to end up like your parents, living in an unhappy marriage full of arguments and sadness.

Liking Choso makes you feel human.

‘’Hi Y/N! What took you so long?’’ said Yuki as she moved her backpack to give you space to sit down next to her.

‘’Stupid philosophy teacher didn’t even send a message in time and had us waiting like idiots outside of his classroom.’’ You said as you sat down beside your blonde friend.

‘’Y/N here you go.’’ Gojo (your other friend) handed you a package of cookies.

‘’Why are you giving me cookies?’’ As you ask you gave him and Geto (who was handing you a bag of candies) a pointed look.

‘’Just cuz we want to and because you’re a good friend and we appreciate you.’’ Weirded out you accepted the gifts.

As you turned to put the gifts in your bag they drifted off to a conversation with Shoko, Nanami and Haibara though your attention was caught by the flowers displayed on the tablet in front of Choso the curiosity was eating you up.

Somehow Choso was a lot quieter than usual, which is fair enough he is really quiet and only gives his opinion or joins the conversation when he feels like it yet today not only was he quiet, he seemed uncomfortable and it was very clear, his facial expressions gave it away.

Suddenly Yuki stands up and walks behind Choso grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand towards one of the flower bouquets, in unison the rest of your friend group starts laughing while Gojo being the menace he is, starts recording everything.

‘’Come on man we all know you are a coward and if we don’t help you’re never gonna give her the flowers.’’ Said Yuki while laughing and giving you a smirk.

‘’Hold o-on Yuki! I don’t wanna do it with a-all of you here!!’’ Choso started to pull his hand away from the flowers all while his face gained a red hue and stuttered.

You gave all of them a questioning look. Choso was gonna give someone flowers? Did he like someone? If so, who was it? Was it a friend of yours? Or was it someone you don’t know of?

Questions filled your head as a sudden feeling of uneasiness gained a hold of your heart, it was kinda stupid that you thought someone like Choso might like you back, you hated the attitude you had with people, sometimes you would come off as rude or at worst having a potty mouth which you only spoke like that with close friend, Choso being one of them, probably your carefree attitude and shity mouth drove him away or he generally just didn’t like you as a person.

Maybe he never noticed you at all.

It only hurts because you thought he might like you due to the shyness he had around you which you liked a lot, even your friends would tease you both, while it made you giddy inside you never really knew if Choso felt the same way.

Now that you think about it the teasing started with Geto and Haibara saying Choso wanted to take you out to the movies, that never happened, the only reaction you both had was pure laughter.

You were so out of it drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Choso grabbing the flowers and standing in front of you, flowers in hand and a blush on his tattooed face while he handed you the flowers.

‘’These are for you Y/N I hope you like them.’’ He gave you the flowers while looking away.

That made you snap out of it.

Choso, he gave you yellow flowers.

HE GAVE YOU FLOWERS!!

Choso’s face was a poem, truely. You looked so shocked, that he started to question if buying you flowers was a good idea.

Did you not like them?

Were the flowers too simple?

The thought of you rejecting him crossed his head. What was he going to do if you rejected him? It was going to be so embarrassing, he was gonna be rejected in front of the whole cafeteria, that only increased his anxiety.

Suddenly his ears were blessed with your soft laughter, his heart fluttered.

Your beautiful smile, the soft laughter and the cute blush in your cheeks made the anxiety go away, then he saw the most in love look in your eyes. Oh, how he loved your eyes, he could get lost in them for hours.

He felt a pair of arms around his neck in a warm embrace, all he could hear was a soft whisper.

‘’Thank you, Choso.’’

His arms circled around your waist holding you in a gentle hug, his warm hands rubbing circles, he didn’t even notice that he no longer had the flowers in his hands.

‘’Y/N I like you.’’ His smooth and deep voice whispered in your ear, the warmth in your cheeks increased.

‘’I like you too Choso.’’

They say that when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you, and Choso knew since the moment he saw you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

[leviathans-watching]

Haluuuu I was waiting for this day!! I was about to request something from you but it was close😭 so now that it's open please hear me outt🥰🥰

Can I request a Headcanon fluff with the obey me boys or side characters reaction to their MC and kid having a sweet moment?

You can do it whenever you want I'm willing to wait!💜 Honestly your one of ny fav writers in this app! Your so good I hope you continue this with Passion 💜💜💜

you and your kid

includes: the brother x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list

a/n: omggg i have such bad baby fever rn and this made it worse,,, and it was so hard giving some of them sons they're all such girl dads imo

please rb <33

➳ lucifer watches you hold the spoon near your daughter’s mouth, cooing at her as she takes a bite of the human-world mashed goop. disgusting as the food looks, you and your daughter look quite the opposite, and he can’t help but smile as you gently wipe at her mouth. a fruitless endeavor, to be sure, as your guys’ daughter is one messy eater, but the care and love in your actions warms him all the same. how did he get so lucky to enjoy these moments? surely mundane seeming to some, but to him, they mean the world.

➳ mammon shuts the car door, stretching. man, it is good to be home! but seeing you open the front door, welcoming him in with his daughter on your hip is much better. you wave with a smile, and upon seeing him, your daughter starts to squirm, masking grabby hands in his direction. booking it up to you, mammon takes your daughter, pressing a big kiss on her forehead, then leans in to kiss you. “i missed you,” he says. “both of you.” your daughter squeals happily, tugging on his hair, and mammon lets her, basking in both of your presences.

➳ levi steps outside, on the hunt for you and your son. you’d both disappeared and once checking the house he knew you must be in the yard. the sound of a plastic bat hitting a ball tells him he’s right, and he makes his way around the corner. “how goes it?” he calls, and you look up. you’ve been teaching your son how to play whiffle ball, as he’d expressed interest in joining the neighborhood t-ball team, something levi was content to leave in your hands. as he speaks, your son winds up for another swing, sending the ball bouncing across the grass. you cheer and clap and levi can’t help but cheer too.

➳ satan wakes up the the baby crying, rolling over and out of bed. you’re already up, trying to comfort her, and as he joins you, he hears you singing softly, a nonsense piece that you’ve no doubt made up on the spot. “how long have you been up?” he asks, taking your guys’ daughter from you and holding her close. “i can take it from here, love. go back to bed.” you ignore his words, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he huffs out a laugh. “fine, fine, i’ll take care of you both.”

➳ asmo blinks as he meets your eyes, not expecting to see some very, uh, artistic makeup covering your face. lipstick is smeared across your chin and bright blue glitter is across your cheeks, but as you grin up at him he can’t help but think you’re as attractive as always. “oh, is it makeover time?” he asks mildly. “she takes after me, i guess. an eye for beauty and all.” you laugh, and your daughter runs into the room, beaming proudly. “this was your work?” he asks, scooping her up into his arms. “amazing!” he says as you giggle, and continues to shower her with compliments.

➳ beel wakes up to his bed shaking and looks up to see his son crawling across it. you’re in the doorway, a tray in hands, and beel can smell that it’s breakfast. “good morning, kiddo,” he says sleepily, lifting the blanket so your son can snuggle in next to him. “breakfast in bed? i’m spoiled.” you smile, setting the tray down on the bedside table, and beel can see the misshapen pancake hearts that are no doubt the product of hard work. before you can leave, beel moves the covers again, and you sigh warmly, climbing back into bed as well, your son squished in the middle.

➳ belphie feels a small hand slip into his and looks down. it’s, of course, his daughter, who always insists on holding both of your hands whenever you walk somewhere. you laugh at the familiar action, and he gives you a quelling look. “are you excited to go the park?” he asks your daughter, and she nods excitedly, full of energy. he resigns himself to hours of swing-pushing and tag-playing but consoles himself with the fact that you’ll be there too, even if it is only to take videos while he’s forced to run around and play.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[waitingonher]

Hi can you do some Percy Jackson x Hades Child hc?

percy jackson dating a child of hades

pairing: percy jackson x child of hades!reader

content warning: cursing

word count: 780

author's note: sorry this one's a bit shorttt

a son of poseidon and a child of hades? ANOTHER POWER COUPLE. 

everyone knows not to mess with either one of you, or else they’re in for a doozy. 

percy’s always making sure that you’re not overworking yourself. he saw what it did to nico, so he for sure does not want that happening to you too. 

he’ll usually ask in more subtle and casual ways like “training was rough yesterday, how’d you sleep?” or “the lunch selection was good today, what’d you think?” 

it may be overbearing to some, but percy honestly can’t help it. the very last thing he wants is you being too hard on yourself. 

when you two first started dating, you guys—for some reason—decided to make gardening your little thing together?? but when you had accidentally killed them with your aura, you and percy decided to go forward with something a little less…alive. 

LOL so now your guys’ little thing is baking!! 

somehow chiron allowed you and him to use the camp kitchen?? 

anyways, you guys are pretty much pro bakers now! well, if you ignore the time when percy mistook the salt for sugar, then you guys are basically pros. 

you reach your hand out to your boyfriend, “perce, pass me a cookie.” “here,” he passes you a cookie while grabbing himself one, “on the count of three?”  you nod and begin counting, “one, two, three.” taking a bite of the warm cookie, you both immediately realize something’s wrong. the cookie tastes…salty? you see percy’s eyes widen as you two make a dash towards the sink.  “oh my gods! why is it salty?” percy screeches, the chewed up cookie muffling his voice.  after what felt like years of rinsing your mouth, the unpleasant salty taste had left your mouth, “babe, you were in charge of the dry ingredients...so did you use the salt instead of the sugar?”  percy’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, “no…i’m not that stupid. look,” he grabs the plastic container and turns it around, only to reveal the label that reads ‘salt’, "oh…yeah, that’s my bad.” 

considering the reputation your dad has, percy’s always looking out for you. but don’t get me wrong, everyone at camp could not give less of a shit about your dad, but it’s the newcomers he worries about. 

some of the new kids are so bold??? but don’t worry, cuz you and percy ALWAYS find ways to humble them. 

percy’s the type of bf to have almost anything you may need on hand. you need a hair tie? he’s pulling one off his wrist. your lips are chapped? he’s taking out his aquaphor. 

he loves seeing you use your powers, because like…pretty gf who has cool powers over the dead?? what is there not to love??

sometimes when you two are training, you’ll look out the corner of your eye to see your boyfriend just staring at you? percy has ZERO shame and will stare at you whenever he feels like it. 

whenever you guys have sleepovers, he always makes sure you fall asleep before him. it’s more of a comfort thing for him. percy just sleeps better knowing that you’re already sleeping. 

normally he’s a pretty light sleeper, but around you, he’s an even lighter sleeper. he just wants to make sure that he’ll be awake to comfort you in case you have any particularly alarming dreams. 

when you two eat, he never fails to save and offer the last bite to you. but percy doesn’t want you to feel bad about you eating his last bite, so he just nonchalantly offers it to you. 

movie nights with percy!!! 

you’d make him watch all the classic horror movies. shit talking the ones with bad acting and graphics is your guys’ favorite pastime. 

“oh my gods,” percy groans for the umpteenth time, “i swear, it’s probably a mortal who made this movie. they can’t even get the stupid ghosts to look right.”  you laugh at percy’s passion for complaining, “literally! okay but can they get some other guy to play the main character?” 

at this point, you two should make your own horror movie because you’re too busy making fun of them instead of actually enjoying them. 

you also made percy watch tusk… 

ever since watching it, he can’t look at walruses the same. (me too percy)  

gods forbid he runs into one in the ocean. 

percy also has a cork board in his cabin with a shit ton of polaroids on it jdfsksd 

they range from pictures with you to pictures of the sunsets.

but if you pay attention, you’ll find that the majority of the photos include you in them <33

[tarotwithdanise]

10 reasons why you should love yourself

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose a pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

1. Just a quick disclaimer : This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! i don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

2. Please ignore any grammatical errors on my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

3. Third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore, this pac can contains harsh, hurtful comments about you or the other person that can trigger you if possible, so kindly read at your own risk and take how it’ll resonates.

4. Lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

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SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits and reading itself goes and belong to yours truly. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider.

Pile one

You don't take bullsh*t from others.

Your opinion is way more matters for you rather than other people opinion of you now.

You are good at dancing.

You are highly connected to divine and spiritual realm.

You have a strong fighting spirit.

Cutting people off for you is like as if you were cutting a paper pad. Too easy.

You've got a brightest smile and pretty hands.

You prefer few friends rather than a bunch of friends who are just fake and plastic. Quality over quantity.

You always want to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You are brutally honest person.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile two

You are good with arts, crafting, sewing, music or painting.

You are unique, feels like a weirdo from everyone else. (aquarius?)

You prefer old fashion rather than to keep up with the trends.

You have a peaceful and positive mindset.

You have a nice thighs.

You are passionate and hardworking about your work.

You always stay focus at your project, seems like you are perfectionist individual.

You are a great listener and advisor, probably someone who is there for everyone. A friend that can rely on with.

You are good at reading and observing people.

You are quite person but d*adly scary.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile three

You love taking care of yourself, you prepare for your daily healthy foods and keep yourself hydrated everytime.

You are good at guiding other's, someone who can be a teacher, tarot reader or a leader itself.

You have a high respect for people especially for your parents.

Many people love you online or in real life.

You are grateful that God give and provide your everyday life. You are thankful that God has given you another chance to live again, to prove and improve yourself.

You love the sound of rain while reading your favorite book.

You like reading newspapers even though through online sites and watching documentaries.

The fears you are fearing before, you can deal with them now.

You are creative human, there's something new up and something incredible happening to your mind 24/7.

You finally learn how to say ‘no’ with those things and someone that you think won't serve you. You rather be hated for who you truly are rather than to be someone else who faked everything.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile four

You are soft-hearted individual.

You have a sexy body.

You have this mindset - it's okay to cry then start to fight again for tomorrow and for your future.

You are determined and doesn't give up easily.

You know how to pampered yourself when you have money.

Even though you doesn't seems see yourself as a good leader atleast you always perceived yourself as great team player.

You know how to handle and organize your own time and things.

You think your ship doesn't yet come to the shore and so, you knew there's a lot of lessons for you to uncover in this lifetime.

You are someone who know themselves well, someone who knew that they have strengths, weakness, positive and negative traits about themselves. In short, you accept your own flaws.

You have a strong faith.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile five

You are lucky and grateful about your life and about yourself.

You are kind to yourself and to others.

You are lovable individual, partner, son/daughter and best friend.

Type of person is not easy to get fooled and scammed.

You know how to discipline yourself about something or someone.

You can deal with your personal issues alone without the help of others. Maybe sometimes when you badly needed it.

You have this quote ‘loving yourself first before loving others’.

You know how to have fun and you know how to joke around with other people. You have a jolly and positive energy.

You have a perfect eyebrows?like even though you don't casually wear brows pencil.

You only have you in this world and you have your family.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile six

You have unpredictable nature, that may lots of people wonder what were you thinking.

You are very secretive and mysterious individual.

You look good in every outfits and styles you wear.

You know how to forgive and forget others. But you don't give chances.

You have a great story and will, to share with people.

You have a beautiful and graceful ; soul, body and mind.

You know how to celebrate your own victory. You are happy in small things.

You are generous individual.

You usually have a good music and artist taste.

You know how to defend yourself in a bad situation.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

© daninixx ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to (10)

... Calm down

MASTERLIST

Summary: Emotions are running high

Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: cursing, modern au, underage drinking in some countries, fluff, young adults hornyness, sexual tension. Reader and Cregan... hear things... Might miss some warnings 

Wordcount: 2.9 k

Notes: Very mild chapter, I included a classic trope for this one jeje, i’m committed with the romcom/telenovela type jeje

Sceptics would say that there is no such thing as a friendship between a man and a woman

That the mere beginning of said “friendly” relationship was built in a mutual interest for one another, a carnal interest, and as such, there was no thing as a friendship

And right now…

In your “friendship” with Cregan

You had to agree

He couldn’t stop looking at you, as you were both in photography class

He had agreed to give you space, he had, and you had said you wanted to be just friends, but the thing is, you didn't want just to be friends

You liked him

Aemond had left the state, you knew as much, and he hasn't posted your nude pictures, so, you figured you were safe, for now

This was your home now and even though he had tried to… taint it, he was not going to be able to, you were not going to let him.

You were home, nobody could hurt you here 

You even got an emergency visit to the school’s therapist, and then another the following week, and then another, you were in a good track, it's been only a week and yet, you felt better

The definitive and messy breakup.

The colossal break up, the atomic break up

But you were calm again, with the certainty that you were not going to see Aemond in the near future

That you were finally free

That you were pursuing your dreams 

With only one look to the therapist you felt like you just survived a catastrophe, but that’s the thing, you survived it, this was the calm after the storm

And the damage wasn’t so bad

Because you are still here, in your college, with your friends… your Cregan friend

Now you had a taste for Dornish coffee with cinnamon

“Oh wow, but look at this picture…!”, admired the professor, you looked up and there it was, your face, for everyone to see, projected on the wall, looking straight at the camera, your lips opened just a bit, a coy look on your eyes, looking over your shoulder, the plastic curtains drew diagonal lines over your face, and Cregan had turn it to a black and white picture

You couldn’t believe was you were seeing

That couldn’t be your face

The texture, the feelings in it, the color, or rather, lack thereof

“...You can see the passion! the connection between photographer and subject, this is… something else…”, yours and Cregan’s eyes connected, “this is the ultimate portrait, an ode to a muse…”

Can he see across the darkened classroom how nervous you were? Did he really…?, No… 

He finally changed the photo, but now there was the one you took of him

“And this one, is the ultimate love poem”, he continued criticising your photo, “so sweet, tender, honest…”

The professor got carried away when he was showing the photo you took of Cregan, he looked back at you, marvelled with a wide smile on his face

You looked down, ashamed, nervous

How the hell were you supposed to be friends with a man you wanted to taste cinnamon coffee from?

. . .

You were walking back to your dorm, Cregan insisting in accompanying you

“How are the classes going?”, he asked softly

“Bananas”, you answered, “the midterms are coming and for many are written exams but for me are models, and huge project sheets”, you said apologetically

“That is a lot of work, the ADA is famous for it”, he said with a smile

“Business administration is no cake either”, you said back

“No it isn’t”, he chuckled, “maybe we can all support each other, do some sort of study night, I have to execute a business plan, and I would like some help too”

“Oh what is it about?”, you asked

“Well, first I have to make the plan for the midterm”, he laughed, “and then execute it in the summer”

“Oh, really? you have to make your own business?”, you asked, amazed

“For starters, yes”

“So cool, have you given it a thought about what you’d like it to be?”

“I’d like to implement a plan on saving a dying business with a bunch of growth opportunity”

“Thats sounds incredible”, you said with a smile, “if it includes a remodel of some sort let me know”

“Totally, we’d make a good team” 

The walk back to the dorms was short, just across the park, and you were starting to get close, you saw a bunch of people gathered by the entrance

“But when will it be fixed?”, you heard

“It's freezing!”, said another. You and Cregan shared concern looks

“We are trying the best we can”

“We can’t sleep in there”

When she saw you approaching, Sara walked towards you with a frown on her face

“What’s going on?”, you asked

“The thousand year old boiler finally exploded!”, she growled

“It didn’t explode!”, you heard someone said

“It’s fucking freezing!”, she continued, “we can’t sleep in there”

“Shit!”, you cursed

“Well girls, grab your things, you are coming with me”, Cregan said simply, you looked at him, alarmed

“Really?”, you asked, “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I'm not going to let you freeze!”, he said with a smirk, “besides, that is what friends do…”, was he teasing you? yes he was

Cregan even walked you up to the room, and in a bag you took the essentials, and in a backpack what you were going to need for tomorrow, Sara did the same thing

It was freezing, the kind of that stuck into your clothes, you could actually see your breath inside those stoney walls

The walk was fun, talking about your next midterms and exams, and as soon as you got home, Jace was there

“DUDE THERE YOU ARE! WHY YOU TOOK SO LONG? DID THEY FINALLY SHOW THE PICTURE? SHE REALIZES THAT YOU LIKE HER SO MUCH SO YOU TWO F-…”, Jace showed up in the corner and got quiet when he saw you standing there

“Hey creeper”, you whispered

“Oh, the girls are here!”, he said with a weird smile, Cregan was petrified

“They are”, he said

“The boiler exploded”, whispered Sara with a teasing smile, “roomie”, she teased

“Great, let’s eat”, he muttered

“I’m gonna, cook us pasta”, you declared, “I trust you have the basics?”

“YOUR FAMOUS PASTA?”, asked Jace, “IT'S MYTHICAL!”

“We haven’t eaten it in a while haven’t we?”, you giggled

“What is this pasta?”, asked Cregan

“Pasta with mystery sauce”, chuckled Jace, is going to be awesome

“You just let me do what I have to do”, you said mysteriously, you dropped your bags near the couch and then you went to the kitchen, is the least you could do for the boys to let you stay

You loved eating pasta and is the only thing you learned to cook when you were little, when sometimes your godmother had meetings or small trips

Jace would come to your house, you had nannies and a maid in the house, so you were with more people, but still, you learned how to cook the basics

You were putting a whole package of pasta in the boiling water when Sara sneaked into the kitchen

“I’m sleeping with Jace”, said Sara 

“What? fuck no!”, you said back

“Yeah, I think I wanna fuck him”, she whispered

“NO!”, you said, “we have to sleep together, like last time”

“I don’t wanna”, she said with a sneaky smile,  “Jace doesn’t dare to make the first move so I’m gonna”, she continued, “I’m gonna fuck him”

“More power to you, but I don’t… Cregan is going to think that is weird”

“Believe me he isn’t”, she said, “Jace is talking to him right now”

“It is weird though”, you continued, “Are you and Jace going to… date?”

“We don’t know yet”, she whispered, “we have been sexting since forever”

“Sara…”

“Do me a solid, I NEED to get laid”, she continued

“Promise me is not a rouse for me and Crehan to get together”

“Look, it is a golden opportunity, but I really, REALLY want to fuck your best friend”

“STOP SAYING FUCK!”, you muttered

“I really want to… Ride Jacaerys until his wheels fall off”, you slapped your forehead

“Promise me you are thinking this through…”, you whispered

“I promise”, she said, and then you smiled wickedly

“Mmmm somebody is getting laid tonight”, you teased

“It’s cool, right?”, she asked, her face changed from one second to another, now she looked concerned, worried.

“What do you mean?”, you asked her back

“He is your best friend”, she said quietly

“Yes! that’s why I want you to get together already!”, you mocked, “if you trust me to get with your brother I trust you to get with mine”, she hugged you and you hugged her back

The boys had gotten a University subsidized apartment, there were a couple of building around campus for this purpose, it was, small but comfortable, in a “butterfly” shape, it had two rooms of the same size, shared bathroom, and a kitchen with an open space to the livingroom and diningroom 

You had talked to Sara about getting one next year, together, you were excited 

“I need to make the sauce”, you giggled

“I’ll leave you to it”, she said excitedly walking out of the kitchen, “boys! set the fucking table!”, she demanded 

Soon you were all sitting on the table, munching on the pasta you had made

Jace moaned dramatically

“FUCK! This is even better than the last time”, he said

“Well, I’ve perfected my recipe”, you teased

“This is hands down the best pasta I’ve ever had”, approved Cregan

The truth is you hadn't made it in a while, Aemond didn’t like it 

“Next year, I’m gonna ask you to make this at least once a week!”, begged Sara, you chuckled

While Jace and Sara where sitting on the couch… very cozy… you just came out of the bathroom and were intercepted by Cregan

“I put your things in my room”, he said softly

“Great”, oh you were nervous

“I can take the couch if you want”

“You don’t have to”, you said softly, “If someone should take the couch is me”

“No possible way”, he said, “besides, this is what friends do”

“Is it?”, you teased

“Yes”, he chuckled

“If this is awkward I can sleep on the couch”, he insisted, “I don’t want you to think we… have… to do something”

“I trust you”, you said quietly, “I know you don’t make assumptions”, 

“What kind of friend would I be if I was trying to get into your pants incessantly?”, he asked quietly, gently. You laughed 

This was awkward

You thought, as you laid on the bed next to Cregan, you had placed a pillow in the middle of your heads, you didn’t trust yourself, you wanted him, you did, and even though you asked him for a friendship right the same day Aemond tried to explode your world… now two weeks later you were not so sure anymore

You wanted him

And it didn’t help that you were hearing… noises… sexual noises from way across the apartment

Jace and Sara’s noises

“I’m gonna…”, he muttered, signaling to the TV

“PLEASE”, you begged. The sounds from the television immediately drowned out the… other sounds, Cregan started changing the channels, looking for something to watch, until he found a good ol’ slasher movie

“Perfect”, he said, looking over at you, you smiled

“These are my comfort movies”, you giggled

“Of course they are”, he chuckled darkly, “alongside Unsolved mysteries”

“I put them to fall asleep sometimes”, you laughed, he laughed wholeheartedly 

You watched the movie for a while in silence, but it was a classic, you had seen a bunch of times, and apparently, Cregan did too, as he started getting bored pretty quickly, moving restlessly on the bed

“Well, if we are friends, we should know things about one another…”, muttered Cregan, looking over the pillow. You giggled, but you wanted to humor him

“Alright, ask away, what would you want to know?”, you asked him

“Well, I already know how you take your coffee, so how about, what’s your favorite color?”

“Really?” you teased

“Answer the question”, he said, smiling widely at you

“Well, it’s purple”, you said, “what’s yours?”

“Mmm very regal, mine’s grey”

“Boring”

“But not like half white half black grey, but… the greenish grey, like the colour of old stones of the Literature department”

“Oh yeah, well, that’s cool I admit it”

“What’s your favourite animal?”, you giggled, but gave him an answer, “oh, cool”

“What’s yours?”, you asked back

“The wolf”

“Uh so cool, and very patriotic”

“Very funny”, he teased back

You turned, accommodating to look at him he did the same, now you were just looking at each other, smiling

“I’m sorry”, you whispered

“Why?”, he asked

“For cancelling our date”, you continued, “I was not ok after my ex boyfriend payed me a visit”

“Wait, he was here?”, he asked, “the one who…”

“Cheated on me with my teacher, yes”, you whispered, “he was here two weeks ago”

“What happened?”

“He wanted me back…”, you confessed

“Do you still have feelings for him?”, is that fear? what you saw in his eyes

“No… but he wanted to blackmail me into getting back together…”

“With what…? What does he have on you?”, he got serious all of a sudden, you laughed

“Relax…”, you giggled, “I didn’t committed any crimes, I just…”, now you were concerned, “Well, we were together forever and… sometimes when we were apart, I missed him, and I was horny, and underage and I… send him pictures”, you said, evading his eyes

“He threatened to… release those pictures?”, he asked, concern washing on his face

“He implied it”, you said after a long sigh 

“That’s a felony, if he does something we can sue his ass”

“Yes, he hasn't though, not yet anyways”, you said, “he said some nasty things, made me realise who he really was, someone I couldn’t possibly be with, but, everything got scrambled back up again, me running away, we didn’t really broke up, but, this time it is for good, we are not getting back together, ever”, you said surely

“Like the great Margaery Tyrell said”, he teased, you giggled at him

“Yeah”, you admit, “but that day, I was fucked up, he said some nasty things… and… I got scared, he managed to get in my head, like he always does”

“And now?”, he asked

“Now that he is away, I've come to think about what he said… I’m out of his spell, I know he said those things, and aren’t true, so now I’m better”, you sentenced 

“You don’t ever have to be scared…” he said gently, “I’m here, Jace, Sara, we are all here for you”

“Thank you”, you whispered

“Next time I see him, I will beat his ass”, he continued, “show him some northern hospitality”

“That is the opposite of Northern hospitality!”, you complained, He laughed

“I know!”, he laughed back, and then he got serious, “remember the girl that interrupted us the other night?”

“Yeah”

“She is my ex”, he told you, and you nodded, you had thought about that possibility, “she went to study to the White Harbor, we are both from here, know each other since we were little, and… we thought we could make it work, distance and all, but… she… started dating someone else and practically ghosted me, for months, broke with me over text”

“I’m so sorry”, you whispered

“I did my mourning too”, he said with a shy smile 

“We are in a good track then”, you laughed

“We are”, he chuckled, you felt his gaze on you, is heated gaze, fuck, you needed him, you wanted him, did he wanted you too?

When your eyes connected, you realised it

Yes he did 

You had placed your hand over the pillow that separated you two, and he did the same, grabbing it softly

“I’ll wait for you”, he whispered

“Thank you”, you said back, “I won't be long”, he smiled widely, his beautiful eyes twinkling. You intertwined your fingers, feeling electric currents flying all over your body

You fell asleep like that, holding hands.

The very next morning, you all woke up pretty early, you needed to get to class

WHen you got out of Cregan’s room, Jace was already making breakfast

“Hey” you said with a warning in your voice, it was weird looking at him after… hearing things

“Good morning”, he said with a wicked grin, “Sara is still asleep”

“It was haunting, jace”, you accused with a traumatised look on your face

“Not my fault you and Cregan didn’t make noises of your own…”, and then he smirked, “or did you?”

“No, we did nothing”, you said back, “because our ears were bleeding”, Jace chuckled, “please, ask Sara for a real date”

“I will”, he said with a smile, “relax”

“I’m relaxed”

“You need to get laid”

“Fuck you”

“Want to have breakfast?”, he asked

“I don’t know, did you wash your hands?”, Jace chuckled

“Yes I did”

“Than yes”, you whispered

“You heard about that party next weekend?”, he asked when Cregan walked back into the kitchen

“Just a party in the frat house”

“We have those?”, you asked

“Well, they call themselves that, they are the guys from the football team”, said Jace

“Why don’t you both live there too?”

“They never take freshmen, and… they are fucking animals”

“Yeah living there is not that fun… partying there though…”, Cregan hissed, “that is indeed evry entertaining”

“Can us girls go?”, you asked

“You are girls, so the answer is yes”, mocked Jace

“Great, so after the second heaviest week of our semester, we party”, you said with a wide smile

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[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (VII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and this is lucky number seven baby 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter did a Whoopsie. Things are better than they were though, so...success? YJ got in trouble with Batman but Danny wasn't exactly cognizant enough to notice so that got relegated to the tags.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The debriefing team meets J’onn in a meeting room not too far from the cafeteria. By the time he makes it to the correct floor, the team has clearly been waiting on him; on the table are a pack of Chocco cookies, a large order of fries, and a ten pack of chicken nuggets. 

J’onn inclines his head. It’s nice to see that his favorite meal is remembered. “Thank you, Batman.” 

Batman’s nod is equally as formal. The human is already most of the way through his italian sub. “No thanks needed. Were you successful in your contact with the entity?” 

Ah. Right to the details, then. J’onn obliges the question with a seat at the table. Black Canary, a chair to his right, gently scoots over to provide him more space. 

In the end, J’onn is relieved to have a prop in his hands. It creates a small, if flimsy barrier between himself and the images the boy had shown him. 

What he knows now…

J’onn sighs. 

The room is peaceful— likely intentionally so, in order to ease the oncoming conversation. Wonder Woman and Black Canary sit beside each other, their individual meals open and half-eaten between them. As the facilitator of the conversation, Batman sits at the end of the table; as the secretary of the meeting, Superman sits beside him, his sloppy joe in one hand and a keyboard beneath the other. 

J’onn quietly tears open the packaging of his pack of cookies. Plucks one from its plastic insert inside. Chews. Swallows.

“The first thing to note is that although the entity's primary language is not known to me, he is extremely familiar with humans— and, likely, with Earth.” 

Superman swallows the rest of his sandwich in one gulp, nods, and begins to type. Batman turns to face J’onn directly. “How so?” 

“He has many memories of flying freely in Earth’s atmosphere, specifically; the stars line up with the star patterns as viewed from this planet. He is intimately familiar with several aspects of Earth’s culture, including the idea of ‘a bedroom’, which he identified as his own, and a childhood toy, which was a scale model of an Earth spacecraft. If I was shown a variety of options, I could likely pick out which craft specifically. He has a mind for detail.”

Superman’s fingers flick rapid-fire over the keyboard. J’onn happens to be aware of the Krytponian’s career, as the local telepath, but rarely is the man's passion so clearly shown; the focus and quick hands certainly project an air of professionalism around an otherwise at-ease debriefing room.

“You’re using he/him,” the Kryptonian observes, making additional notes in the margins of the in-progress report. “How did that come about?”

“He does have an understanding of the most common gender identities of Earth, and has a favored one. How he came about it…” J’onn inhales. It is a very human gesture. “…I do not know his origins for certain, but I have several theories.”

Batman cuts off an oncoming question from Superman with a silent wave of his hand. “Base information first. Questions and theoreticals at the end.”

Superman’s face at the hindering of his professional instincts is perhaps less than completely mature. “Yes, yes.”

J’onn takes a second cookie.

It’s easy to report on certain things; the entity's initial inability to communicate without acute pain, the subsequent reaction of the teenage team, the eventual discovery of clear communication and transference of emotion.

“Not all of his thoughts were particularly clear.” J’onn nibbles on the edge of his cookie. Black Canary pushes aside her empty tray of California rolls to give her pen and notepad space. This portion of the debrief necessitates more of her skills. “Most of the memories that he aimed to show me were value-neutral, or otherwise unrelated memories, likely due to the stress of his current and deeply traumatic situation. He preferred memories that did not have pain or distress associated with them. When prompted—I displayed my own perspective of the crash we had found him in— the associated memories that were brought up implied that not only was he the pilot of the craft, but that he had a hand in building it.”

Superman’s rhythmic tapping undercuts the soft conversation. “So he is sapient, then, despite the difficulties in communication,” Wonder Woman confirms softly.

“More than. There are echoes of formalized schooling and other instruction in his mind, although I couldn’t discern the topics of the lessons.”

“Were there other beings like him? Anyone we could reach out to? Family members, friends…?”

J’onn hesitates. There’s no way to confirm what he saw. However…

“…There are memories that he has of his own person, in which he looks very human. His self-conceptualization is of an adolescent human boy.”

The grief in the room is palpable. J’onn doesn’t have to look up to feel it press in on him from all sides.

“I suspect that…in the same way that Superman has largely spent his life on Earth, this boy has at least spent several years on Earth as well. There are glosses of memories of an adapted human house, though I was unable to safely explore how far back they went. There are humans who prominently play a role in his self-image and expected worldview, although the mental representations of them have scarred over with some form of psychological trauma. Overall, despite his current form, there was likely a time this child felt safe around both humans and human scientists.” 

Silence rules over the room. 

“...Do we know what changed that?” Black Canary asks, without looking up from her notes. Her pencil eraser taps quietly against the table. 

J’onn sets the package of cookies to the side. “Not…so exactly. There were hints of memories threaded throughout the recalled moments that he did not wish to pin down. Claustrophobia. Fear of incarceration. The fear of physical harm done to him— and the psychological harm of knowing with exact certainty that there were those willing to hurt him. …Intimate betrayal.” 

Superman and Black Canary’s eyes quietly close. Batman looks hardly moved under his cowl; if J’onn could not feel the man’s stress spike in the air, he might not have ever known how worried the human was. 

J’onn isn’t actually meant to know Superman’s circumstances as to his arrival on planet Earth, but there are equally few ways that any of the league can hide the entirety of their thoughts from him— especially at the time of his initial arrival into the League, when mental defenses had yet to be erected in a comprehensive manner. This situation smacks strongly of the story of Clark Kent, son of his human parents. 

“There is no way to confirm my guess without further conversation on the topic. However, it is incredibly likely that he lived under the radar, on Earth, for a lengthy enough span of time to acclimate to human society. The discovery of his non-human biology would have spurred further action, and the result would have given reason for his fear of medical professionals, scientists, and adult humans. Likely, the other humans in his memories meant to support him, and were prevented from doing so or injured in the process. The vehicle that had crashed back to Earth would have served as—”

“—An escape route,” several voices overlap together. 

J’onn nods. His fingers steeple together. “There is no way to know how far into space he had gotten, or if his escape was aided by others of his species, or even if the point of origin was in low atmosphere or Earth's orbit. Either way, our patient is alone now, is in extreme background pain, has lost perception in several of his senses that exclude taste, and has reluctantly bonded with the junior team due to a lack of more familiar presences.”

Batman’s emotional presence circles into a silent exhale of frustration. “That would be Impulse’s under-the table operation,” the human correctly identifies, dry as the desert. 

(J’onn is certain that the vigilante will never reveal it, even to himself, but the exhale has its own quiet, microscopic tinge of reluctant amusement.)

“I don’t think it qualifies as under-the-table if you have a running file on his activities, dated and timed by every individual interaction,” Superman points out, not even bothering to glance at the now-slightly-peeved Batman. 

“Hn.”

“Oh, very mature.” 

“It was not league sanctioned.”

“Neither are the majority of your movements,” Wonder Woman points out. The fork from her salad punctuates her sentence with a tease and a wave. “If you informed us your security plans for the Watchtower any earlier than a week after you had already installed the new measures, I would assume you were an imposter and prepare for battle.”

Batman hardly looks put out. He achieves deception with his whole body. J’onn genuinely admires how discordant his behavior and churning thoughts can be. 

“Hn.”

 “Oh, very well-spoken,” Black Canary flatters insincerely, toying with her pencil against her paper. 

It would be very immature of Batman to sulk. Therefore, he does not. 

“Returning to the point of this meeting… Are there any other pertinent details we ought to know?” 

J’onn considers shrugging. He packs three chocco cookies into his mouth instead, chews, and swallows. There are only two cookies left in the pack, now. 

“The biological mechanism utilized for his empathic sense is vibrationally-based. That would be why my initial attempt at communication failed so tremendously; if he does have a neurological center, it is too deeply damaged to interpret telepathic input. He has a fondness for astronomy, can recognize the color red with greatest ease, and likely needs high contrast if we would like him to recognize any materials we provide. He imprinted on Impulse likely because the boy’s presence in the Speedforce mimics the energy readings he expects to see in those of his species.” 

Superman hums. His fingers fly. “So he must have met others of his species before.” 

J’onn makes a so-so motion. “There is no way to be certain. His abilities may be instinctually pre-programmed, or he may have had access to outside materials to teach him.” 

Batman’s arms cross. His sandwich, which had been sitting on the table, is now entirely vanished— wrapper and all. “Was there any evidence as to either particular theory you were able to pick up on?”

“...No.” Hadn’t he indicated such?

“Was there any personal information you were able to pick up on?” 

J’onn has to think about that one. The topic hadn’t come up during their mental exchange, when so much more of the focus had been on creating basic understanding of the Watchtower, his presence within their base as a patient and not as a prisoner, and his current location on the moon. Anything else that J’onn might have gleaned would have to be determined on supposition and analysis. 

“...He enjoys astronomy.” J’onn tries to recall the exact memories he had seen, and only ends up reiterating what he has already said. Perhaps highlighting certain moments will make the narrative clearer. “His childhood dwelling had little stickers on his ceiling. They would stay lit even when the room went dark—”

“...Glow in the dark stars,” Superman whispers under his breath. J’onn exhales. This isn’t a familiar point of human culture for him. He’s glad his description is recognizable. 

“Yes. He organized them to mimic Earth's constellations. He had smaller, handheld versions of rocket ships. Even if he had not known of extraterrestrial origins, he was drawn to the cosmos.” 

Batman coughs. The gesture is a reflex to suppress some welling emotion. J’onn pretends that it works. “Both items are…markers of a young child,” Batman admits. “Indications of a quite young, very human childhood.” 

Ah. J’onn can more deeply recognize the sense of tragedy welling in the air. The items are astronomy-based yes, but they equally highlight his age. 

“When he donned a human appearance, he matched the coloration of the human family who took him in. As fleeting as their acquaintance might have been, he modeled his human form after them— solidly enough and surely enough that, if he feels strong enough to form a mental self-representation, I can see the outline of it in his memories.” No details, beyond vague hints in the entity's mind of his hair and her eyes and their skin.

“Very loved,” Wonder Woman murmurs. 

“Very young, and very loved,” Black Canary reiterates with a sigh. Her notes are a black mess of graphite. “And now he fears adult humans.” 

“Yes,” J’onn admits. The cookies are gone. He sets the wrapper to the side. He reaches for the chicken nuggets. “That said, he has an instinctual familiarity with black and with red hair, will likely experience less fear with a female profile as opposed to a male, and responded favorably when offered the chance to interact with an adult who did not mean him harm. The fact that we have largely indestructible adults at our disposal works to our advantage.”

It is very, very clear who exactly fills that description. Wonder Woman sits up straight, laces her fingers together, and very kindly curtails her smugness. If Superman and Batman would like to be jealous of her current position, they may do so at their own discretion.

[chrollohearttags]

armin fucking you off of a perc…hear me out real quick.

cw: drug usage, spit kink, backshots, oral receiving (m), dumbification, choking, breeding, soft dom armeen 😩

it’s not something that you’d typically do..nor was it a thought that had ever crossed your mind. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of shots before sex or even sharing a blunt but nothing quite like this..

"I don't know why you're even making such a big deal. Just try it."

"Because, I'm not a fucking crackhead, Armin. 'The hell you think this is?"

it was the exact reaction that he would expect from you..still, it didn't make it any less hilarious or cute.

chuckling as he crawled next to you on the bed, Armin placed an arm around your back and massaged it gently.

"Baby, it's fine. I promise I'd never give you anything to hurt you. You'll like it, I swear."

he could tell that his little proposal offended you but truthfully, there was nothing to worry about. However, you weren't so convinced.

you had been with Armin for the better part of three years and one of your many bonding activities was getting high or drunk together..smoking and taking shots, it was the norm in your relationship.

but now, he wanted to try something a little different.. and by different, he meant feeding each other percs and seeing what happened!

more so in the bedroom. His friends told him how much better sex was with them in the system and he had to find out.

and that was cute and all but you didn't mess with that shit!

"You're freaking yourself out. That's all..here.."

that's when he'd reach over to the nightstand and grab the tiny baggie with two white pills.

you began to feel a tad bit nervous but he'd assure you it was fine as he took the tabs out of the plastic.

brushing a piece of hair from your face, he'd hold one between his fingertips before brushing it across your lips.

"Ion' know about this, Armin. You' sure this is good?"

as he began easing the tablet towards you, he'd prompt you to open your mouth. He had already taken his and stuck his tongue out to show you so.

"Of course I am, sweetheart. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, babe. You know I do."

he'd then place a kiss to your temple and stare into your eyes as he whispered. "Then let's do it, okay? Open your mouth for me."

he knew what voice done to you..and damnit, it was working!

“Fuck it. Why not? Give me one.”

as you stuck your tongue out, he'd crack a faint smile and place the pill onto it; prompting it to dissolve.

giving you another peck on the lips, he'd tilt your head up and make sure you were alright.

"Good girl..see, that wasn't so bad. I'll be right back, okay?"

you'd nod your head and just lie there until he returned.

under the glow of dark red lights, you'd stare up at the ceiling with your fingers tapping into your bare stomach.

you were half clothed; only in thin lace panties and a t-shirt. Taking a couple deep breaths before exhaling, you'd shut your eyes and just try to relax.

it was always so funny when you blew your own high by worrying too much.

for now, nothing felt different so you'd just try to enjoy the euphoria of it and remain calm. Slow jams were currently playing from the television and admittedly, it was setting the mood.

your boyfriend was a very passionate lover and attentive one so he'd be extra careful of how he handled you with this in your system.

suddenly, your body began to tingle and you'd feel as if you were starting to float. It was strange, not like other highs you'd experienced.

"I'm back, I brought you some water!"

a shirtless Armin returned in nothing more than gym shorts as he kneeled into the mattress with two water bottles.

you'd thank him as he crawled beside you and draped an arm across your frame.

"How you feeling? You okay."

"Mhm, just fine."

giving him a smile, he felt relief in knowing you were okay. But there was a certain glimmer in your eye and he couldn't help but to notice.

as he faced you, he'd trace tiny circles into your bare hip, massaging the sensitive area. He couldn't help but to stare because you looked so damn adorable.

those soft, pouty lips that he loved, hair wrapped up for the evening and your bare face as beautiful as it was in makeup.

he could look at your forever and never grow tired.

a few more minutes had passed and your almond colored eyes began to shift downward and the mere tip of your tongue poked out.

he could tell that the drug was starting to take effect and knew it'd only be a matter of time. The suggestive music began to sound louder despite not getting louder.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl? Hmm?"

at that moment, the two of you drew closer and you'd nuzzle your face into his neck, lightly dragging your nails across his skin.

"Nothing..I'm just—"

your words began to trail off as you laid underneath him and he'd pick your head back up to look into your eyes. You were smiling and flicking your tongue yet.

"You're high. That's what you are. Not gonna lie, I can feel it too..."

with that cheeky grin still on your face, you'd start to place gentle kisses on his neck and caress his bare torso; making faint giggles in the process.

your fingertips soon started to trail down south and toy with his waistband and as a result, the bulge in them grew slightly.

whether it was the high or the lust, neither of you were quite yet sure but there was a way to find out. Twirling his fingertips between the strings of your panties, he'd tug you closer and watch as you felt him up.

you looked so pretty and submissive for him right now, groveling for his touch with those sweet little moans and sloppy kisses.

soon, the moment turned into full blown making out with your tongues intertwined and your bodies toppling over one another.

Armin slid his hands underneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts.

the room began to feel so steamy and the sounds were setting the perfect aesthetic.

the two of you wasted no time peeling the other out of anything that was left on and resumed the intense session; resuming with his mouth around your perky brown nipples.

he'd lick over the buds, swirling his tongue with trails of dripping saliva over them.

this was always his favorite thing to do, with the addition of fingering you at the same time!

"Your titties are so perfect, y'know that?" It was now his voice that had turned into a desperate whimper because this was his weakness.

licking, lapping and sucking on them always got you going and right now was no exception. As he lie there with one of your nipples dormant across the buds..

your warm slick was starting to paint his two fingers resting between your thighs.

everything was escalating so quickly that it hadn't even dawned on you that the two of you were about to experience sex like you've never had it.

"Shit..feels so good."

"I can tell..you're soaking."

meanwhile, your hand was resting against his swollen shaft. He was still a little soft but growing harder by the second.

tasting and touching you always got him hot and bothered eventually. Not to mention how you rode his fingers and whimpered in his ear.

the teasing and foreplay continued on for another five minutes or so before he withdrew and examined his work.

you had made a mess that trickled down to his wrist and your nipples were so puffy and hard..just how he liked them!

meanwhile, you had precum seeping all over your fingers and by this point, that Percocet began to kick in and both of you were like puppies panting in heat.

sticking those fingers into your gaping mouth, Armin grasped the back of your neck and he swabbed them around your jaws; as if he were trying to stretch them out.

his blue eyes peaked down at you to see yours completely glazed over and spit dribbling off of your lips.

it was as if you were levitating and didn't want to come down right now.

"Hey babe..I have an idea. Why don't we fuck until our minds go blank? Until we can't even think straight?"

all the while, he was still swabbing your mouth and watching you drool as if it were the sexiest thing ever.

it seemed you already beat him to the punch because you had barely spoken a word; only making cute babble.

"Mind go—blank..blank is good."

"That's right, princess. No need for thinking right now."

all Armin could do was laugh at how precious you looked. Seeing his baby go completely dumb was lowkey kind of hot.

and for once, you weren't worrying yourself into a frenzy.

he could only imagine how the rest of the night would transpire.

no need in waiting to find out though, so he'd kiss your temples and whisper in your ear to get on all fours for him.

with not even a moment of hesitation, your back was arched and he'd quickly get behind you. It was hard not to notice how good your ass looked underneath those red beams.

how amazing your body looked in general...he was obsessed with you before but that pill had him ready to do some ungodly things with you.

massaging the small of your back, he couldn't help but to imagine filling you full of cum, making you take his dick until you were shaking.

watching it go in and out as those pretty fluids smeared all over it..he couldn't handle thinking about it.

so he had to start moving!

pushing his hips forward, he'd grip the base of his shaft and tease it against you..

"Dripping fucking wet..oh my God."

muttering as he began poking those insides. Squelching sounds rang out in response to his first couple of thrusts.

but before he could get too far into it, he'd have an idea:

"Hold on, babe.." reaching down to grab those panties you had on, he'd wrap them around your wrists and bind them together.

now he had full control and you didn't mind it one bit.

"Perfect.."

letting out a gentle moan, you'd look back and give him a smirk to let him know it was okay to go deeper.

your small waist and big, round ass were making him want to drill you into that mattress.

especially with the way you were meeting his strokes so well.

it was apparent that you were stuck; nothing on your brain except fucking and being treated like a slut. Which he'd be more than happy to fulfill.

with your cheeks in his palms, he'd spread them apart slightly..only to coat your puckering hole with a layer spit that trickled down between your fat lips.

"Ahhh..so fucking good..wanna—cum on this fucking dick.."

Armin swirled his thumb pad across it before popping it inside to aid in fucking you. And god..was it working!

that glistening, pearly white cream was starting to make a mess of that throbbing dick. He could only fit five inches in; even with how wet you were, he was just so fucking big!

"Ooooh shit..you're doing it, baby..you're creaming all over my shit..that's so sexy..." he'd cry out pitifully.

eventually, the two of you were going back and forth, bouncing off of his pelvis.

it was pulsating as it pumped in and out, stretching you out with each stroke. It was buried to the hilt, full balls slapping up against your aching clit..it was everything you expected it to be.

and for some reason, it had you dripping and leaking down onto the sheets.

the bed was creaking underneath your weight as it slammed against the wall.

both of you were in a euphoric haze of pleasure; only fueled by pure lust and the pills coursing your veins.

there was no slowing down from this point. Your bodies worked together as one; bouncing off of one another in a heated blaze of pure passion.

"Haaaa! Arminnnn, fuck! You're fucking me so good, baby."

"I can't help it, this pussy is so goddamn good! What the hell?"

your whiny voice wailed into a high pitch due to the constant pounding. That's when he'd pull you back and up against his chest.

that's when he'd place a hand around your stomach, the other on your throat and gentle kisses on your ear, cooing to you.

"You feel that? You feel that in your tummy, princess? How fucking deep I am?!"

and he was too! So much to the point, a bulge began to form and he started pressing through your skin.

your legs were trembling and he didn't exactly help your cause when he began toying with your clit. The hardened little bud ached against his fingertips as he traced the tiny circles.

"Yes baby, I love it so much!"

you were going hot and heavy, smacking skin sheathed in sweat. And soon, you'd cover him in your fluids as well.

before you knew it, you were spraying the covers and his upper legs with arousal.

"Fuck! Fuck!" He had no choice but to pull out as you spasmed all over his cock. However, he had the perfect place to put it..

with your wrists still bound, he'd lay you flat to the bed as he repositioned to be in front of you.

seeing your face light up in excitement, meant that his plan had worked. You were freaky enough as it was but you were insatiable tonight.

your tongue out on display and your eyes gleaming for him.

"Oh you're so cute like this, baby..you want me to fuck that little throat? Hmm?"

"Mhmm." replying with an eager nod and he was happy to fulfill.

with that, he'd grip the top of your head and ease it into your mouth. Inch by inch, he glided back and forth against your tongue.

he couldn't help but to whimper so helplessly at the warmth of your inviting throat and the way you swallowed him so effortlessly.

all of that spit and precum seeping from your lips was driving him insane. Maybe he had created a monster!..

but that didn't stop him from bucking his hips and pushing it in as far as he could.

"Good girl, you love that, don't you? I bet you want to touch yourself so bad right now."

and he was absolutely right. You were throbbing and dripping all over again, especially with the way he looked down at you like his prized slut. He knew how much you liked being handled.

still, the only sound being made was faint muffles and gagging noises emitted from your throat.

soon, he'd speed up those movements and before long, you heard a loud grunt, along with the grip of your hair in his hands.

"I'm coming, princess! Fuck, take it!" Armin's voice winding into a high groan yet again as it was him who reached their peak this time.

and he didn't spare you on filling it up. It was as if every feeling, sensation and movement was ten times more intense!

"Open up, let me see." And you'd proudly show off that you had swallowed all of it before he even had to tell you.

"Good girl.."

"Thank you, daddy."

the words making him reconsider stopping right now. He was lightheaded but that drug had both of you hungry for more.

lying down on the mattress this time, he'd undo your makeshift restraint before patting his thighs and telling you to get on top and face the TV.

he didn't care if he overstimmed himself at this point, the only that mattered was leaving you full of his nut.

grasping your waist, Armin balanced you until you sat comfortably atop his dick. Watching that ass stick out and your hands on his thighs, he couldn't even contain himself.

but you wasted no time in riding it as if you owned it. Going slow, you'd bounce and spread open with each thrust back.

you were constantly giggling and moaning, so he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was.

that tight grip was something serious..and dangerous!

once again, you were creaming only a few minutes in and he had to have some control!

it wasn't going to be easy though because as you sped up, he'd find it hard to stop himself from meeting you with rough strokes.

soon, your bodies moved in unison, feeding off of each other as you went dumb on his shit. Going in circles, taking him to the hilt and smothering it with your cheeks.

"Oh fuck, baby! That's it..ride me.."

he couldn't take it, you were fucking him like a pornstar. Losing all control and going faster by the second.

pounding it up into you, he'd grit his teeth and try to give you all he had left. You wanted the remainder of it in your womb so after a couple more times, you'd both reach that point of ecstasy at the same time.

"Fuck!"

"Fuck!"

spilling from between your lips as that hot, creamy nut poured from between your thighs.

both of your eyes faltered to the back of your head and you'd collapse atop his body.

his chest was beating a million miles a minute but it was worth it. This was one hell of an experience, even though you had drained him dry.

you'd look back and see him panting incredibly hard, chest rising and falling, and his toes still pent up in a curled position.

"Are you okay?"

through shallow breaths, he'd managed to answer.. "..never better!"

and you couldn't help but to smile!

"Then I say our little experiment was a success." leaning down to give him a peck on the lips. One thing was for certain..

you'd have to do it again!

[imaginidol]

POV: The intimate moments of you and Baekhyun’s secret relationship

The sight of your boyfriend jogging towards you under the otherwise dimly-lit street was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Again, you think, I get to finally see you again!

His panting gets heavier as he approaches closer, until you both finally embrace each other in a warm hug. His heavy black jacket is covered in his cologne and scent, one that you find so attractive and safe every single time.

“Baby,” he melts into you in delight. “I missed you.”

You smile warmly into him, whispering “I missed you, too!”

It wasn’t too many times during the week you got to see Baekhyun; the last time you saw him was probably close to three or four nights ago. Nowadays, it seemed as though the amount of Dispatch paparazzi and sasaengs flooded the privacy of artists as big as Baekhyun, following Chen’s announcement of having started a private family a few years back. Baekhyun’s name had only popped up once or twice for a dating scandal speculation in the last month or so, but he played it off very well, and with the help of an official statement from the company, he managed to keep his secret about you very private and exclusive only to himself.

“I brought you something,” he pulls away from you to reveal a small paper bowl with a plastic cover, filled to the brim with ice cream – a treat he knew you loved dearly.

“Baekhyun!” you smiled, your hands growing cooler at the touch of the cup.

“Shhh,” Baekhyun stops you with a sudden passionate kiss, numbly nibbling at your bottom lip as he feels your smile spread over your face. “If you say my name too loud, people might hear. We’re still close to SME.”

“Right, sorry,” you whisper in between kisses. You could tell he missed you from the way his kisses grew firmer against your lips, his weight almost completely leaning against your body. You’re the first to pull away, causing him to whimper softly in confusion. “For someone who doesn’t wanna get caught, you don’t hesitate to make out in front of SME,” you tease.

“Where are you parked?” His eyes travel quickly between your lips and your eyes, a sense of slight desperation overcoming him for wanting you in that moment.

“Farther down the street, behind that one corner store with the milkshakes,” you smile.

“What?” His expression quickly grows to deep concern. “Hell no, you can’t be parking back there anymore. It’s too sketchy for you to be around at this time of the night. Just start parking behind the SM building, the parking lot in the back. I’ll get you a pass tomorrow.”

“But Baek, the whole reason we agreed we wouldn’t be parking there in the first place was because we could get caught seeing each other or something,” your eyes threaten to fill with tears at the thought of Baekhyun’s name being once again stained at the stake of another dating scandal, especially now that it’s been years since the last real scandal finally died down.

“I change my mind; I’d rather you be safe and closer to me than out here. Sorry, I didn’t think about the alternatives much,” he heaves, taking you by the arm. “Let’s go to your car, I’ll drive us over.”

He takes his neck scarf and ties it over your face, then proceeds to pull a beanie from his jacket and tug it over himself. You both make way to your car, following carefully but briskly behind his every step.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him, offering him some of your new ice cream.

“Only a little bit, love, since we’re performing tomorrow,” he agrees.

You take a spoonful of the cold treat and gently place it between his lips, a smile forming on his face at the sight of your own excitement. You take a spoonful of the dessert next, spilling a drop over your bottom lip.

He takes his thumb and slides it over your bottom lip, cleaning it over and proceeding to lick it off himself. The car groans to life, and soon you’re both driving carefully through a longer route until you reach the SME building.

He scans his ID through the back gates, allowing your car to enter into the private lot and hiding among the vehicles of other staff. He turns the car off, and then proceeds to turn his attention to you.

“Baek,” you start. “How much time do you have before you go in again?”

Baekhyun sighs back against his seat, pulling out his phone to check the time again. “Maybe fifteen, fourteen minutes?”

You both sit quietly for a moment in the silence of your reality: attempting to work out a secret relationship with a highly rated singer. It wasn’t the fairest game you thought you could handle.

There was just no privacy anymore.

In fact, it seemed as if Baekhyun’s stalker and sasaeng problem had only worstened over the course of the last few years.

“I’m trying to figure something out for us,” Baekhyun interrupts the silence. “I want you, but being with me is a toll too harsh for you to risk. I don’t want to… lose you.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable, while your tears spilled under your lids that you tried so hard to hold back.

“Are you sure you wanna keep doing this, Baek?” Your voice comes out a mere whisper, and he turns over in shock to see you had actually started crying.

“What? Of course I do. It’s… risky. But I knew what I signed up for when I knew I wanted you. Come here,” he pulls you in his arms, taking your ice cream and placing it on the dashboard. “A risk I’m willing to take, though I’m hoping for the better outcome.”

“Okay,” you heaved, “because I’ve already fallen for you pretty badly. I think I’m so down bad for you now, so it better work out for the best.”

“Shhh,” Baekhyun once again interrupts your doubts with a soft, tender kiss. “I’ll make sure it does,” he breathes through you, “I can’t lose whoever I choose to love over some stupid scandal. It’s never my fault when I fall in love. And I love you right now. Only you. I don’t want to lose you to a scandal like that, I don’t wanna go through any potential career deaths over my love life again.”

“I’m sorry, Baek,” you look up at him, feeling his cold fingers wipe away the warm tears welling from your eyes. His index and thumb lift your chin, forcing you to watch him closely.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall harshly if we ever do get caught,” he promises with a smile.

Being the non-celebrity that you were, he knew how much your quiet, comfortable life meant to you. It meant a lot to him too, knowing that it was also a small escape from his lifestyle as well. One where he didn’t have to worry about his image or about having eyes on him at all times. You were also his comfort, and he couldn’t bear to lose that.

“I’ll work extra hard for you, too,” you finally smile up at him.

“Awe, look at you, pretty,” he whispers to you, pupils dilating at the sight of your beauty. To him, you were the greatest thing he could look forward to nowadays. What could possibly be better than this?

Suddenly, Baekhyun’s phone starts buzzing. He looks down to see it’s one of the members, and picks up.

“Yeah, I’m on break. Okay, I’ll be in soon, just give me a few more minutes,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing lightly. “See you inside in a bit. Bye.”

“Who was that, Baek?”

“Chan,” he mutters. “They want me to re-record a few new adlibs they just added to our current project.”

“Oh,” you look down in defeat, “okay.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he turns to you, knowing that cutting his time meant cutting time away from you.

This hurt you just as much as it hurt him. How many times a week could he really actually see you? In between his busy schedules and sudden occurrences (like Chanyeol’s call just now), there wasn’t always much time left even for a secret relationship.

“That’s okay,” you look at him, a devious grin slowly spreading across your face. “Pick a number between one and ten,” you say slyly.

“What? Oh, um, two,” he looks up, an expression of confusion overtaking his face. “Why?”

You start giggling for a moment, before whispering quietly into his ear, “You have two minutes to make out with me, in any way that you want.”

A panicked expression pains his face, a soft whimper escaping his lips. “No, no, no, no, no, that’s not fair, that’s not fair, ask me again,” he starts pressing his palm against the curve of your neck, his eyes growing hooded.

“You’re ten seconds in,” you whisper, sending him into a frenzy.

He doesn’t take another moment of hesitation before he pushes his lips against yours.

He’s completely melted into your love. He presses against you, leaving small pecks and long kisses all over your mouth. His hands pull your legs in closer, then proceeding to slowly follow the curve of your waist until he reaches the brim of your collarbone. His soft lips demand yours to part, his teeth slowly making their way to your bottom lip. He’s biting and sucking on you, soft groans escaping his parted mouth and bringing music to your ears. He invites his tongue into your mouth, a sloppy mess forcing a quiet moan to escape you. His fingers make their way around your neck and up to your jaw, his grip firmly bringing you closer to him as if there wasn’t anymore space left between you both already.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled between kisses, though half of these words were more of a slurred, distracted speech.

His intensifying breathing pattern grows heavy and uneven, the only thought going through his mind being fuck, I’ve missed you so fucking much. You don’t know just how long he’d waited for this, but damn, it felt good.

“Time’s up!” you pull back giggling, watching his darkened eyes make a fuss out of your movements.

“Two minutes is not enough, let me pick another number,” he whines, making you laugh lightly in amusement.

“Baek, you really should go inside before Chan comes out looking for you,” you smirk.

“Ten minutes, I want ten minutes,” he pleads once more, but the slyness on your face tells him he’d have no chance. “I don’t get to see you often already as it is!”

You place your hand lightly on his cheek, your thumb sliding over his cheekbone. He lifts his hand and places it over yours, and you can see the desperation growing stronger in his expression.

But Baekhyun wouldn’t dare do anything to you without your permission.

“Give me your phone,” you say quietly.

“Why?”

“Give it, unlocked.”

He hands over the phone, anxiously waiting for you to give him another green light.

“Hmm,” you think, your thumbs searching through his messages, finally reaching Chanyeol’s number.

“Pick a number between ten and twenty,” you smile.

“A hundred!”

You break out in a laugh, and type something down into his phone, then returning it to him shortly after.

“What did you do?” He asks, studying the words on his screen.

“I just bought us a bit more time, and said you’re stuck in traffic.”

His eyes gleamed in absolute delight, a wide smile growing across his face.

Fuck, he was so beautiful.

“Now what?” He looks at you with eager eyes.

“Given I probably won’t see you for a couple days again, kiss me and don't stop. Oh, and by the way,” you subtly motion your head towards your backseat, “I made sure to tint my windows and clean the back seats for… you.”

He doesn’t hesitate to pull you into him, your giggles fading out into one of the most passionate love sessions you’ve ever experienced in your life.

On the dashboard, the ice cream slowly melts its way down to a mere puddle of tasty delight.