#had less to do with him personally and a lot more with his desire to give them back part of what he thought he could finally have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alavestineneas · 5 months

Text

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion.

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way.

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her.

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better.

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle.

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago.

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life.

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less.

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns.

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet.

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation.

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine.

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us."

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin.

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep.

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?"

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on."

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?"

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?"

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners.

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist.

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position."

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

"Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student."

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration.

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else.

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception.

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man.

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out?

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table.

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake.

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving.

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense."

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her.

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success?

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful.

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish.

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.''

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air."

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit.

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her.

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time.

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring.

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath.

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

2K notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 2 months

Note

have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe

wordcount: 9.8k+

—————

(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them.

"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?"

Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic.

Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.

Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search.

After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.

(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language.

"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?"

Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence.

"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?"

Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer).

She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?).

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face.

"C'mon, spit it out."

Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it."

"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?"

"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes."

Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out.

"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something."

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships.

She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand.

There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her.

Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting.

Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind.

There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry.

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes.

Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him,

"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face.

She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me."

(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see."

Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss.

When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?"

Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant.

Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me."

His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration.

"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me."

With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.

When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant.

There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.

She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing.

Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love."

"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know."

There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography).

His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?"

Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her.

Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess."

The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?"

"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it."

Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it."

She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough.

"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends."

There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face.

"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?"

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think."

Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?"

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed.

"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird."

"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with."

(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

"'M sure I can answer ever—"

"Do you watch porn?"

Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing.

"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off."

Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.

"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?"

His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her.

Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter.

Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud.

"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?"

Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"

Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head.

The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself.

"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all."

Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.

"Is that something you want to try?"

Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling.

She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that.

But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did.

"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean."

Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?"

Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know."

That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.

A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?"

"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips.

His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?"

"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that."

It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured.

The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?"

"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?"

When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl.

"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.

The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking."

When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now.

"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.

Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you."

Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?

Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes.

"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises.

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier."

Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry.

That was what she was telling herself anyway.

Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes.

Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you."

"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice.

She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully.

"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"

With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets.

"I can stay awake." His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away.

"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?"

"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her.

A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here."

"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips.

With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone.

She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin.

(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up.

"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you."

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her.

She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety.

"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you."

Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling."

"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request.

Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through.

There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her.

From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference.

The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.

From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?"

(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?"

She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah."

As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen.

"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her.

The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too?

"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that."

"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch.

On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts.

Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light.

Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that.

It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them.

She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone.

The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him.

"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together.

A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?"

"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers.

A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle."

(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies.

"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.

He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way.

"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder.

For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories.

"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath.

He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you."

The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover.

"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started.

Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs.

"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy."

(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her.

In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly.

"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit.

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you."

He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me."

Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted.

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls.

She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs.

"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me."

With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch.

"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me."

A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?"

She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color?

"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted.

A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?"

"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better."

He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.

Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding).

She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave.

This was definitely better than watching a video.

"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more.

He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips.

"What do y'want from me love?"

Her answer was automatic: "You."

(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."

Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted.

"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."

Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?"

She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready."

Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her.

Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach.

Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two.

"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head.

Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."

Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room.

For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better.

One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied.

He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward.

It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.

Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further.

He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin.

Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze.

"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?"

"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy."

That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him.

"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume.

Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple.

"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck."

Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room.

His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed.

Almost.

Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center.

"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her.

"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want."

His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat.

"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me."

"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."

"My—It's—"

(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted.

All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier."

Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening.

She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised.

He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges.

"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?"

This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized.

Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch.

"I love you too, honey."

Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.

Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video.

He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.

"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck."

She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."

There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening.

(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat.

Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs.

By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to.

Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest.

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was.

"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way."

A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more."

With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.

"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips.

His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?"

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him.

Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.

(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck.

"Five more minutes."

She'd stretch it until ten.

—————

I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!

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little-pondhead · 6 months

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Classic "promised-at-birth-to-the-Ghost-King" story, except the contract never states how, exactly, the King is to use the offered soul. Usually, one would be offered as a bride or sacrifice. But with Pariah Dark sealed away, his retainers got a little lazy in the last few millennia. They just made some generic contracts and practically handed them out like candy.

When Danny took over as king via conquest, that included all the weird and messed up soul contracts the previous retainers had signed. And since ghost magic was a thing and seemed to have it out for Danny personally, many of these contracts updated their terms and conditions as soon as that crown hit Danny's head, reflecting the new King's subconscious desires and personality.

This caused many issues with those still around to profit from these contracts. Some people lost their power, some gained more, and some were unbound and kicked to the curb. A few special people found themselves dropping dead after their less-than-ethical abilities disappeared.

Danny was unaware of the chaos he had unintentionally caused for quite a while. It was only brought to his attention when a letter arrived on his desk one day with a copy of someone's valid contract enclosed. The new changes have been highlighted, and a separate note is attached.

It seems that in exchange for blessings of near-immortality for her infant son, a mother had offered Pariah Dark both their souls in order to ensure her child's survival during harsh times. (The souls were to be collected upon death and were to be used as soldiers in the King's Army.) The mother's soul had returned to the Keep decades ago and was recently assigned to tend to the gardens, while her son seemed to have grown into a fine gentleman and was still alive. He used his mother's gifts to serve his country and loved ones well, it seemed.

At first, Danny didn't see what any of this had to do with him. If the mother was already a part of his kingdom, and the son would be eventually, why was a letter about the whole thing showing up before him?

Then he read the revised contract, which bore his magical signature. A signature that overruled the power of Pariah and binding it to him.

'...and as such, in return for the abilities stated above, [Mary Pennyworth] and [Alfred Pennyworth] will fulfill the conditions detailed below, upon pain of Ending.

[Mary Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a lieutenant in the Skeleton Army caretaker in the Gardens of Pluto.

STATUS: COMPLETED

[Alfred Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a general in the Skeleton Army caretaker of the King and his Court.

STATUS: PENDING'

Danny had to re-read the contract several times to understand what it was saying. He now had a caretaker? What did a caretaker do? Was it like a ghost parent? Could this guy ghost-ground him??

He sighed and pressed the speed dial on his phone for Tucker. Time to find out who the hell this Alfred Pennyworth guy was, and how to break a magic contract when it wasn't even fulfilled yet.

Meanwhile, Alfred had just found the original copy of the contract amongst his mother's belongings after it glowed and drew him in. The paperwork cleared up a lot of mysteries he'd always wondered about himself, even if he disapproved of his mother's methods. Nonetheless, he smoothed out the aged paper with dark green ink, noted the fresh (sloppy, a teenager?) signature, and began preparing to meet this supposed new King and his Court.

It wouldn't hurt to make introductions before he died, after all.

#pondhead blurbs #dpxdc #alfred is now their grandpa #i just want alfred to meet danny and his group of friends and unironically call him 'your majesty' and danny HATES it #like this is the guy who's gonna be my butler/caretaker after he dies? please man just say my name #it's not a cursed name i swear #no one else knows how to feel #cause like #if the contract wasn't in place everyone was sure Alfred would haunt the manor even after death due to his devotion to the wayne family #but now he's already got a job in the afterlife #so how will the bats see their father/grandfather figure now?#Bruce: the obvious solution is to adopt these random kids who still have families so alfred never has to leave :)#alfred isn't even dead yet but the bats are speedrunning their grief in like a week

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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months

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Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it.

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!”

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared.

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him.

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt.

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs.

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

#danny phantom #fanfiction #dc x dp #jasmine fenton #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #liminal #tim drake #jason todd #trans!danny #the batfamily #danny is pregnant au #finally getting help au #vlad is a creep #dc stands for disregard cannon

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sluttywoozi · 2 months

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Adore You Part IV | kmg x f!reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~7.7k | Pairing: kmg x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Life has changed a lot in the past two and a half years, and it's about to change even more, but Mingyu knows he can do anything with his CEO by his side.

Warnings: shower sex, fingering, oral f. rec., piv sex, slight impreg kink, creampie, aftercare, talk of food/eating/diet changes, talk of babies and pregnancy, they are trying to have a baby and i wanted it to be a surprise but i had to warn yall so just pretend you didn’t know, they’re so in love, crying so much crying, mingyu is good at everything so he’s a carpenter too, feat. seokmin as the replacement assistant (mingyu has one sided beef w him)

Reader Notes: she/her pronouns, has vagina and breasts, can get pregnant, still a boss bitch, gets carried by mingyu, same age as mingyu for one line only so you can pretend otherwise if you so desire

Mingyu wakes to early morning sunlight warming his exposed skin. The duvet has been kicked to the end of the bed, the sheets tangled up between your legs and his. He’s not cold so he knows you aren’t either, not with his chest flush to your back and his arms wrapped around you. He assumes one of you must have gotten too hot, hence the discarded duvet, and reaches down to pull at the sheet, knowing you still like to be covered up even when you’re warm.

You stir at his movements, your legs shifting as a soft hum escapes you, and he freezes, holding his breath until he’s sure you’re still sleeping. You need as much rest as you can get, though Mingyu does love the mornings where you both wake up early and chat until it’s time for you to get ready for work.

This won’t be one of them, as there’s only twenty minutes left before you need to wake up, but Mingyu is alright with that. It means he has some extra time to think, to relax, to soak you in. You’re only apart for nine hours a day, but he misses you in those nine hours, misses your soothing presence and your smart comments and your sweet kisses.

He fills that time with working out, cooking, cleaning, running errands, and working on various projects around the apartment. You own the unit, so he’s free to paint and put holes in the walls, and almost every week, he has something new to show you.

It doesn’t make him miss you any less but it does make the time without you go faster, and whenever he starts to feel down about not being your assistant anymore, he reminds himself he’d rather be your 5 PM to 9 AM than your 9 AM to 5 PM. That always helps, knowing he’s the home you come back to.

It doesn’t remove the sour taste he gets in his mouth when he starts thinking about his replacement, though. Seokmin isn’t the worst, but he’s not the best (not like Mingyu is), and it doesn’t help that Mingyu always feels as if Seokmin resents him for his place in your life. He’s not sure if Seokmin is jealous, or if he thinks Mingyu is a distraction, or maybe he even feels like he’ll never be able to fill Mingyu’s shoes.

Mingyu is taller, and his feet are bigger, and he was a better personal assistant, but it’s been two years since he resigned and he’s not giving up this life for anything. Not when it means he gets to be with you like this, gets to wake up with your body aligned with his, gets to spend his days working to make the life you share even better, gets to welcome you home with open arms and a hot meal and a mouth begging for a kiss.

This is what Mingyu dreamed of but never believed he could have, and nothing in this world could tear him apart from you.

Nothing except for your alarm, at least.

He feels more than hears you groan as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the incessant buzzing loud against the stark quiet of the bedroom. You reach out and feel around blindly, your eyes still likely closed, until you locate the obtrusive device, pulling it toward you and tapping until the noise stops.

You sigh and burrow deeper into his chest, and Mingyu feels his heart swell so big, he swears it’s about to burst out of his ribcage. He holds you tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of your head, and contemplates begging you to take a sick day. You could just stay in bed with him, waste the sunlight talking and kissing and making love until your stomachs remind you that sustenance is required.

You start to shift out of his arms before he can open his mouth to ask, your work ethic and indomitable need to get shit done preventing you from having a lay in. He holds back the pout and releases you, hugging the sheet to his chest when your warmth leaves him and watching as you start to amble toward the bathroom to get ready.

You stop like you’ve forgotten something, and Mingyu supposes you have because you turn around and come back, setting one knee on the bed and leaning over him.

“Morning,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his, the both of you far past caring about stale breath. He kisses you back, cupping your cheek to hold you to him, moaning petulantly when you pull away.

“I have to go take a shower,” you murmur apologetically, smooching him what you think is one last time before climbing off the bed. He reaches out, catches your hand, and asks, “Can I come with you? I could drive you to work today.”

You bite your lip, considering it, and check your watch to see if you have enough time. You usually use public transport but if he takes you, you wouldn’t need the twenty minute cushion you normally give yourself just in case of breakdowns or traffic. He’ll also get to hold your hand in the car and sing you love songs, which he always adores doing.

“Okay, but we can’t get too distracted. I’ll set another alarm,” you concede, tugging him by the hand you hold. He grins triumphantly, sitting up and scooching to the edge of the bed before standing and raising his arms in a deep stretch. One of them only goes so far, still attached to you, but the other reaches high above his head, his spine popping and cracking as it elongates.

You make a face at the sounds and he just chuckles softly, “Hey, you have to love every part of me, even my height induced back issues.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull him toward the en suite, replying, “I do love every part of you, old man, even your height induced back issues.”

“Baby, we’re the same age!”

You don’t respond but he sees your head shake and imagines the fond smile you must be wearing, squeezing your hand and waiting for a squeeze back. It comes before you let him go completely to turn on the shower and start undressing, your pajama tank going first.

You’re wearing nothing under it and Mingyu is entranced instantly, too distracted watching your breasts move as you push your shorts down to take his own clothes off. He’s only got boxers on anyway, though they’re slowly becoming tented the longer he stares at you.

Used to his open admiration by now, you just toss your clothes in the hamper and step into the shower, kindly leaving the door open for him even though all the built up steam is escaping. The absence of you shakes him from his stupor, and distractedly, he slides down his boxers, letting out a quiet hiss at the feeling of the warm, damp air on his hardening cock.

He takes a step closer, then another, until he’s standing just outside the shower, his eyes caught on your form as water glides over your curves. You’re washing your body, suds drifting along your tits and down your stomach, and Mingyu is so, so gone for you.

“Any day now, honey,” you call, glancing towards him and jumping, likely not expecting him to be standing there just staring at you. He steps over the ledge, feeling the change in air temperature immediately, and crowds in close to you, his form blocking most of the water.

“Can I make you cum? Please?” He asks raggedly, needing to feel you on his fingers, his tongue, his dick, anything.

“I don’t know if we have enough time,” you say as you take a step back from him, your hands on his chest and your eyes reluctant.

“I can be quick,” he promises, though he’s not actually sure he can. Yes, he’s got giving you pleasure down to a science by now, but there’s something about this morning that makes him want to linger.

You think for a second, before deciding potentially being late is worth it and saying, “Okay, but just once.”

That might be a bit difficult too, but he’ll do his best to respect your wishes, no matter how much he loves making you fall apart over and over again. He nods solemnly and starts walking forward, his hands latching onto your hips as he presses you up against the heated shower wall. Sinking to his knees, he takes hold of one of your thighs, pulling it up to rest on his shoulder before deciding he needs more room and pushing it up and to the side.

He can make you cum with one hand anyway, and he likes having you all spread out for him like this, likes the way the lips of your pussy part to show your folds, your clit shrouded in its hood and your entrance already shining with arousal.

He doesn’t waste any time, knows it’s precious, licking into you just to spread your wetness before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, groaning at your taste. The fingers of his free hand glide up your inner thigh, pinching and rubbing and digging into your flesh before they reach your weeping cunt.

He sinks in one first, pumping it in and out, curling on every other stroke as his tongue taps at your clit, his lips still pursed tight around it. You shiver above him and let one hand fall to his head, your fingers delving into his wet hair when he adds another, crooking them towards your belly and feeling for that erogenous patch inside of you.

You sigh his name when he finds it, a long, drawn out sound that makes his heart race and his dick twitch, and he thanks you with a hard pulse of his lips and a grind of his fingertips. That makes you buck into his face, starting a seemingly endless loop of him groaning around your clit and you fucking yourself on his fingers.

He feels like he’s touching heaven, like he’s carving a masterpiece out of immaculate marble, like he’s dipping his fingers into the pools of Elysium every single time he gets his hands on you, and that’s something he knows will never change.

Something else that will never change is how much he loves to make you cum, though he prefers to take his time and give you as many as you can handle. But you said once, and Mingyu is nothing if not a good listener.

He’ll just have to make this one really count, make it good enough to last you both the whole day, or at least the next nine hours.

So he doubles his efforts, sucking at your clit deeply enough that his cheeks hollow and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot before grinding into it roughly, jerking his hand back and forth until your fingers clench in his hair and your cries ring in his ears.

He helps you ride it out, fighting back a grin at the way your hips move with him and fighting back a frown when you pant, “I have to… I have to get ready for work now.”

He supposes this is what he gets for marrying a CEO.

Mingyu is halfway home when he realizes you forgot to take your lunch.

He contemplates grabbing it and bringing it to you immediately, but decides he’ll bring it for your lunch hour instead, hoping he can stay and chat with you.

When he gets back to the apartment, he sets to work, going straight to the spare bedroom he’s made into a work room. He keeps it relatively organized - paints and tools on one wall, plans pinned to the corkboard on the other - even though he’s the only one who ever sees it.

You tend to stay out, not because he’s asked you to, but because you want him to have his own space, especially since he moved in with you. He had to give up some things he loved, like his favorite pizza place that doesn’t deliver to this part of town, and the corner store he bought all of his car magazines from, and, worst of all, lovely interactions with his neighbor’s dog, Belle.

He hardly misses any of it, now that he’s established this life with you.

It hasn’t been long since you got married, just under eleven months, but ever since you slid that ring onto his finger, Mingyu has known that this is what he was made for. He was made to be your husband, to take care of you, to make you happy, to keep you safe. He was made to love you, and fuck, he does.

More than he ever thought possible, to be honest.

He doesn’t know how he made it six whole months as your executive assistant after that day in your office, and he really doesn’t know how you both managed to hide the relationship for so long. Sure, it didn’t start as a relationship, but it evolved into one pretty quickly, and he remembers just how difficult it was to keep from kissing you every single time you called him in.

When you realized how serious things had become, he knew things would have to change. He couldn’t keep working for you if he wanted to marry you too, so as soon as you told him that was something that’s been on your mind, he tendered his letter of resignation and ended his lease.

He moved in with you two weeks later, on his last day, and ended that night by getting down on one knee. You cried, much to his surprise, and darted to your bedroom without a word, returning before he’d even gotten over the shock of you leaving. You kneeled with him, and held out your hand. He was about to offer you his when he noticed the gold band resting in the middle of your palm, which made him sob even harder than you.

The wedding was planned in just under a year, a quiet affair with only your family, friends, and favorite employees/coworkers invited. You were promoted a few months later, when the CEO finally recognized your talent and retired, and now, almost eleven months after he got to marry you, you’re trying for a baby too.

That’s why it’s so important that he gets your lunch to you. Ever since you said you were ready, he’s been feeding you only the best foods for fertility: dark, leafy greens and legumes for folate, lean meats and eggs for B12, low-mercury fish and chia seeds for omega-3s. You’ve adapted to his new menu rather well, and it helps that he’s able to work these foods into recipes you already love.

Today is grilled chicken and garlic roasted kale salad, one of your favorites, and he almost can’t believe you both forgot to grab it before you left. He says almost because he may have spent the time before he drove you to work pestering you for kisses, which led to a makeout session against the door of your apartment. The orgasm and kissing ate up your extra twenty minutes, so you were rushing him out the door, insisting you couldn’t be late.

He knows from experience that it’s not the end of the world if you are, but he also knows that punctuality is paramount to you, especially now that you’re practically running the place. So out the door the both of you went, no lunch bag in sight or in mind.

He stops working long enough to check the time, noting that he has about half an hour before he has to leave for your office. His hands are dirty with wood stain and he has no less than four splinters, but he’s proud of the work he’s done so far. It’s finally coming together, this little project, and he can’t wait to finish and present it to you.

First, he needs to shower again. He’s grown sweaty and stinky in the hours he’s been working, and while he mainly wants to present a nice image as your husband, he also knows he’d get Seokmin’s judgy eyes if he showed up like this.

He rinses off quickly, doing his best not to let his mind wander to what he did to you right here this very morning, before getting dressed and heading to the kitchen. Packing your lunch is easy with the food already cooked, all he has to do is put the glassware in your lunch bag. He skips the little note he usually leaves you, happy to deliver his words of love in person instead, and grabs his keys off the hook by the front door.

The drive to your office is fast and uneventful, only about ten minutes away from the apartment, and Mingyu spends it thinking about potential baby names. He knows what’s at the top of his list and what’s at the top of yours, but he’s not sure you’ll be able to choose one until you actually meet your baby.

Your baby that doesn’t exist yet, Mingyu reminds himself, feeling his heart start to ache when he thinks about how long it could be before you get pregnant.

You’ve only been trying for two months and it could be literal years, or even never, and he’ll just have to be okay with whatever happens. There’s always surrogacy or adoption, too, though he knows you want the experience of growing and carrying your child.

He wants to experience that with you, wants to take you to all of your appointments and buy too many parenting books and sing to your belly every night before bed. But things don’t always work out how you want them to, and Mingyu knows that very well.

His mood is a little dampened when he arrives at your office, though the thought of seeing you brightens him up again. He practically floats through security, the employees recognizing him and letting him pass without much fanfare, before taking the elevator up to the top floor, where your office is now located.

He’s a bit sad you no longer occupy the space you first met in, but he’s also ridiculously proud that you have one of the executive offices. They’re spacious and have automatic doors, wall to wall windows, incredible views of the city skyline, and, best of all, they require special access.

That means not just anyone can get in, which makes Mingyu feel better about leaving you in the hands of Seokmin. The man is putting on muscle, is no longer the scrawny guy he was when he started, but Mingyu is still bigger than him and would have better luck fighting off intruders. He doesn’t anticipate there being any, but ever since you got married, he’s been even more protective over you.

He can’t imagine how he’ll be when you get pregnant, and he can only hope he’ll maintain some sense of normalcy and decorum. It helps that he trusts you to tell him if he grows too overbearing, knows you won’t stand for him doing everything for you, no matter how much he wants to.

You’ll at least let him keep making you all your meals, and he knows that for a fact, as well as he knows that he has to be nice to Seokmin or he’ll surely hear about it later.

It’s difficult to keep the frown off his face when Seokmin tells him you’re working through your lunch hour, though.

“Yeah, sorry, she’s fully booked today. One of the deals started to fall through this morning and she’s had a lot of fires to put out.”

Seokmin sounds remorseful at least, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about the stress you’re under.

“Can I at least bring her her lunch?”

“You can leave it and I’ll take it to her,” Seokmin offers without looking up, his eyes set on his computer and his glasses reflecting the screen.

“No.”

Mingyu doesn’t mean to sound so firm, but he doesn’t trust Seokmin to get it to you in a timely manner, and you need to eat regularly to keep your nutrition up. His tone makes Seokmin’s eyes snap up to meet his, and he can’t say he doesn’t stand a little taller and square his shoulders when he sees the slight tinge of fear in his gaze.

“I’ll bring it to her, please call and let her know I’ll be coming in,” he tries to keep his voice measured this time, adds a please even though it’s not a request, and smiles when Seokmin picks up the phone and says, “Mrs. Kim, your husband is here with your lunch.”

He doesn’t hear how you respond but he does hear the buzz that means the door is opening, and he thanks Seokmin with a tight smile and a nod before walking into your office. His smile turns genuine, a full grin elicited by the look of relief and affection you send him as soon as he appears.

“God, I'm so hungry. Thank you for bringing me my lunch, honey,” you beam gratefully, and Mingyu prays Seokmin hears you as the door closes with a click.

“Of course, baby, you know I could never let you starve,” he ambles over to your desk, handing over your lunch bag and watching attentively as you open it. The meal should be no surprise to you as you were home when he made it, but you still gasp and coo, “My favorite.”

He just grins and asks, “Can I sit or do you have to keep working? I know it’s been a busy day.”

You hum in contemplation, glancing over all of the papers on your desk before deciding, “The company won’t go up in flames if I take a little break.”

So you don’t have to work through lunch, Mingyu thinks smugly as he settles into one of the chairs that sits opposite your desk. He’ll eat later so he talks to you while you dig in, relaying what he’ll be making for dinner and what he proposes you do with your evening - salmon and asparagus with chimichurri, then a movie and a cuddle, then on to the babymaking.

You’re on board with it all, your eyes flashing with heat when he mentions the last part, and as you eat and chat, he does his absolute best to pretend he doesn’t wish you could get to it right now. Unfortunately, when you started dating, you instituted a strict, ‘No fucking at the office,’ rule, and he believes it stands to this day.

When you’ve finished your food, you primly put the lids back on the containers and load them into your lunch bag, which he happily reaches out to take. He loves seeing you enjoy the dishes he makes for you, and he especially loves finding the glassware empty when he unpacks the bag to load the dishwasher.

He knows it’s time for him to leave now, but just like this morning, he wants to linger.

He won’t make you ask him to leave though, being perfectly aware of all the work you have left to do and knowing you can’t do it with him in the room, so he stands and says, “I should get going.”

You sigh and nod, pushing up out of your chair and walking around your desk to escort him to the door. Before he leaves, he leans in for a kiss, pouring all of his love and desire and affection into it and hoping you can feel every emotion. It’s clear you do when you pull away, your eyes reluctant and your lips quirked in a soft smile.

“Bye, honey. I love you, drive safe,” you whisper, petting his chest and taking a step back, as if you’ll kiss him again if you don’t.

“I love you too, baby. I will,” he murmurs, stealing one last peck to tide him over until you come home to him.

Dinner goes smoothly - you love the combination of salmon and chimichurri - and Mingyu has just settled into the couch with you in his arms when it hits him.

“Baby… Weren’t you supposed to get your period last week?”

You freeze against his chest, slowly looking up to find his eyes and breathing, “Oh my god, yeah. I got so used to not having one with the IUD that I didn’t even notice.”

“Should you- I mean, do we have any- Do I need to go get pregnancy tests?” He asks, almost scared to be hopeful.

You press your lips together and look away before returning your gaze to him and saying sheepishly, “I may have already bought a bunch and hidden them in the closet.”

“Perfect, that’s perfect! Do you need to pee? Should you drink more water?” He exclaims with excitement, pulling away from you and taking your hand before rising from the couch.

“Um, no, I’ve had enough water,” you assure him, standing when he starts to tug at your hand.

“Let’s go, then!” He tries to pull you to the bedroom, but you don’t budge. He glances at you over his shoulder, turning completely when he sees the nerve ridden look on your face. Your hand feels a bit clammy in his and your eyes seem shuttered, almost like you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them.

“What’s wrong?”

He thought you’d be as excited as him to take the test, and now that you’re dragging your feet, he’s confused.

“I just… It could be negative, even with my period being late, and I don’t want to get your hopes up and then have you be disappointed,” you say gently, your eyebrows knitted together and your gaze avoiding his.

“Baby, I know it could be negative. But it could also be positive, and that’s enough for me. And even if I am disappointed, it’s not like I’ll be disappointed in you, or like we can’t keep trying,” he wiggles his eyebrows and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him and leaning in for a kiss.

You grant it without pause, your lips soft against his and your fingers clenching in his shirt. He pulls away and presses his forehead to yours, breathing, “I love you, no matter what, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, sounding much more relaxed. “Let’s go take that test. And I love you too.”

With that, he guides you to the main bedroom, stopping by the closet so you can grab a box from your stash. The anticipation has his heart racing as he waits in the bathroom with your hand in his, a timer for three minutes counting down on his phone.

The test lay on a tissue on the center of the counter, currently blank but containing the capacity to change your shared life. You’re both turned away from it, wanting to read the results when you’re sure you’re ready. He swears it’s the longest three minutes of his life, all one hundred and eighty seconds spent in tense, hopeful silence, until the timer hits zero and his phone goes off.

“Do you want to check or should I?” He whispers, squeezing your hand and brushing his thumb over the back to soothe you.

“How about we look together? We can both close our eyes, I’ll grab the test, and then we’ll open them at the same time?”

He nods, nerves at an all time high, and lets his eyelids flutter shut as you do the same. He can hear you patting around for the test, huffs out a humorous breath at the sound of triumph that escapes when you finally find it, and tries to pretend he doesn’t feel like he might die as he waits.

“One, two, three.”

Your eyes go to the test when you open them, but his are stuck on your face, knowing your expression will tell him whether or not it’s negative. He watches the emotions flicker through you, shock appearing first, then incandescent happiness, and when your gaze flies up to meet his, all he sees is pure joy and luminous love.

So what else can he do but burst into tears?

“It’s positive?” He gasps through shuddering sobs, trying to look down at the test to confirm but finding himself unable to see through all of the saltwater in his eyes.

“Yes, Mingyu, it’s positive. We’re having a baby,” you say with a watery beam, setting the test down and reaching out to cup his face and swipe your thumbs under his eyes.

He holds your hands to his cheeks, leans back against the counter for stability when his knees feel like they might give out, and weeps freely. He’s always been open about how much he wanted this with you, wanted to build a life and a family and a home, and now that it’s happening, he almost can’t believe it.

You let him cry, stepping between his spread legs and pulling your hands out from under his to twine your arms around his neck, hugging him tight and hugging him close. He wraps his arms around your waist in a vise-like grip, his tears soaking into the cotton on your shoulder as he whispers, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It’s not like I could have done it without you, honey,” you remind him, making him laugh and turn his head to kiss your neck. He keeps his lips pressed there for a minute as his tears finally dry up, before pulling back and looking around for the test.

He finds it quickly, his eyes bulging out of his head at the two lines and little digital screen reading ‘pregnant’ as if he didn’t just bawl his heart out about it. Seeing the test makes it real, fills his head with images of you caressing your slowly growing belly, of him reading and singing to your bump, of taking you shopping for maternity business clothes because he knows you won’t let your style suffer for even one day.

He’s excited for all of it, and suddenly, he can’t stand still. There’s just too much to do, too much to buy and build and organize, and thank goodness he’s making good headway on his big project. Creating a safe, secure crib from scratch isn’t easy or quick, but luckily, he should have about nine months left to finish.

“Mingyu, you’re vibrating,” you chuckle, still pressed up against his chest, your fingers playing with his hair and your heart thumping next to his. He squeezes his arms around you and rocks you side to side one, two, three times, before letting go and sliding out from between you and the counter.

“Of course I am, we’re having a baby! Oh, I’m gonna make so many lists,” he grins eagerly, bouncing on his toes and devising titles in his mind.

“I’ll get you a special notebook just for them,” you promise, returning his smile and taking his hand to lead him from the bathroom. “For now, why don’t we relax while we still can?”

Mingyu doesn’t know if he’s capable of relaxing right now, but he’ll try for you. He can go over all the logistics in his mind as the movie plays, and when he settles back into the couch with you in his arms once again, he feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

Mingyu blinks awake to find the TV on screensaver mode and you asleep, still tucked into his chest. The living room is dark, only the light from the kitchen and what filters in through the windows illuminating the room. He checks his watch blearily, doing his best not to disturb you, and sighs in relief when he sees it’s only eleven PM.

As he carefully unravels his arms from around you and climbs off the couch over your dozing form, he can’t help but let his adoration for you swallow him whole. You took a chance on him almost two and a half years ago, and at the time, he thought the best he could hope for was getting to make you feel good. Now, he’s married to you with a child on the way, and he’s never felt more in love in his life.

There will be changes, for sure, in your relationship, in your household, in your lives, but he’s ready for anything as long as you’re by his side.

Or in his arms, he thinks as he leans down to slide them under your shoulders and knees, hefting you up against his chest and turning to lumber toward the bedroom. Your breathing changes and he looks down, finding your half-asleep eyes on him and a cute little smile curving your lips.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad,” you whisper, clenching your fingers in his shirt and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He tries to act like that didn’t just cleave his heart in two and says, “You’ll be an even better mom.”

You just keep smiling at him, your eyes growing more and more awake with every step. Soon enough, he’s bending down to gently lay you on your side of the bed, relieved that you washed up as soon as you got home. He expects you to release his shirt, but you don’t, holding on to him and pulling insistently until he’s hovering above you, one knee on the bed and his hands braced on either side of your head.

“What is it, baby?”

“I just want a kiss,” you murmur, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels them curl at the corners before he leans in and presses them to yours, intending to keep it chaste. You don’t have the same intentions, it seems, because you nip at his bottom lip and soothe the sting with your tongue.

He lets out a breath against your mouth that sounds suspiciously like a moan, his body dropping closer to yours until he can feel your warmth radiating into him. You take advantage immediately, throwing one arm around his neck and gripping his hip with the other, pulling until he acquiesces and lets himself fall into the temptation of your body.

You hitch your legs up on his waist, your tongue sliding into his mouth and your fingers sinking into his hair as he shudders above you. He pulls away, somehow, to mumble, “Thought you just wanted a kiss.”

“Maybe I want more,” you sigh softly. “Maybe I need more.”

“Well, I have to give my wife what she needs, don’t I?” He responds in the same hushed tone before sitting up between your legs to haul his shirt off.

He’s starting to feel warm, desire heating his blood and making his cock stir, and when he lays himself out on top of you and kisses you again, he’s sure you can feel his length throbbing against you. It’s thickening slowly, hardening more the longer your lips are locked with his, the longer he thinks about being inside of you, about part of him growing within you.

It’s heady, that thought, but it also makes him want to wrap you up in blankets and make sure nothing bad can ever happen to you, or to the life that’s bound to you. It makes him want to take you carefully, deliberately, treat you as if you’re fine china or a delicate glass flower.

You already know how gentle he can be, but tonight, he’ll show you even more tenderness, even more care, even more love.

Starting with kissing down your neck, sucking lightly at your pleasure points and grazing his teeth over your sensitive skin, before putting all of his weight on one hand and pushing up your sleep shirt with the other. He sits up to tug it off, your arms and back rising to assist him, and lets his eyes rove over every inch of exposed skin lovingly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he breathes, laying his hands on either side of your sternum and lightly dragging them down. They smooth over your breasts, your nipples pebbling beneath his touch, and down your soon to be growing stomach to hook into your pajama shorts. You lift your hips when he pulls, ever helpful, and spread your legs for him when the shorts clear your feet.

His eyes are drawn to your pussy as soon as it’s revealed, the way you glisten in the moonlight making him moan aloud and shift down onto his stomach between your thighs. He already got you in his mouth once today but there’s always room for seconds, and thirds even, especially when he’s as ravenous for you as he always is.

He doesn’t let his hunger drive his movements, keeps them slow and soft, licking up the seam of your cunt and letting out a gasping groan at the taste of your arousal as it paints his tongue. Your thighs twitch beside his head, threatening to close, but he would welcome them, honestly.

He would welcome the pressure of your soft flesh on his ears, the sensation of you holding him in place, the knowledge that you feel so good, you can’t focus on keeping your legs open. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks in little pulses, they do close, trapping him in bliss.

He can still breathe through his nose so he’s not worried about suffocating, and even if he did drown in you, it’s one hell of a way to go.

Bringing one hand to your pussy, he lets two fingers sink in, pressing them inside so slowly, you try to buck your hips to speed him up. He doesn’t give in, wraps his other arm up over your hips to anchor you to the bed as he begins sucking in long pulls, his tongue laving over you every so often just to get another taste.

Every moan that escapes you drives him, sends his fingers in deeper and deeper until they’re inside you to the root. He curls them then, feeling around for the spot that makes you gush and groaning when he finds it, petting over the ridged patch and feeling your cunt get wetter and wetter.

He slides his fingers in and out slowly, crooking them into that spot on every stroke inside, grunting and grumbling around your clit as your arousal starts to drip down his hand. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your cries grow closer and closer together, and when you call out his name, he knows you’re right on the edge.

Instinct tells him to speed up, to do what it takes to push you over, and instead, he consciously keeps his movements at a sedate pace, working you up up up until, finally, you fall apart with a sigh.

Normally, he’d keep going, push for another, but he needs to feel you, needs to be closer to you, needs to be inside of you. So he pulls his fingers out, heat gathering in his stomach when a slick pop! follows, and starts to rise, knowing you’ll release him.

Your thighs drop back down to the bed and he sits up between your legs, sucking his fingers into his mouth because he doesn’t want to waste a drop. You stare up at him with stars in your eyes, your gaze half-lidded and open.

When he braces himself on top of you, you wrap yourself around him, your arms twining around his neck and your ankles crossing at the small of his back. No words are needed as he reaches down and guides himself into you, your pussy swallowing around his cock as he pushes it deeper and deeper inside.

Every time feels like the first, brings back memories of experiencing true pleasure, true companionship, of realizing he belongs with you. That realization is enforced with each minute spent next to you, each morning, afternoon, and night making him even more sure that this is where he’s meant to be.

Being with you, inside of you, in love with you, is why he was put on this earth, and Mingyu believes that with all his heart.

It brings tears to his eyes again, especially when he thinks about the fact that the perfect combination of you and him is growing and developing in your belly even now, as he thinks.

“I love you so much, baby,” he gasps wetly, tucking his face into your neck so you can’t see the way his lashes are clumped together with saltwater.

You don’t let him hide, sinking a hand into his hair and pulling insistently until he faces you again. Your watery gaze makes him drop down to his elbows, his chest pressing against yours and his lips kissing anywhere they can reach.

“I love you, Mingyu, I love you more than anything,” you whisper before cupping his face with one hand and bringing his mouth to yours. He sips at your lips decadently, indulgently, like you’ve got a flavor he’s never tasted, and pulls his hips back just an inch or two before sending them forward again.

He can’t bear to leave the clutch of your cunt long enough to really thrust, can only rut and grind himself into you, his hips rolling and his head spinning as you kiss him breathless. It’s enough for him, and when he braces himself on one arm and lets his free hand find your clit, he knows it’ll be enough for you too.

Because you’re trembling beneath him, whimpering like you’re wounded, holding him so tightly he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to untangle himself from you. Not that he wants to, beyond content at the idea of walking around with you attached to him like the cutest barnacle alive.

Soon enough, you’re gasping with every push of his hips into yours, unable to keep kissing him as he swirls circles over your swollen clit. Your pussy clenches around him in pulses, locking down when he bottoms out to hold him inside of you, the drag of your walls on his cock exquisite beyond measure.

He’s starting to get close, his orgasm a slowburn in the depths of his belly, just waiting to ignite and raze him to the ground. You’re not far behind, your cries rising in pitch and your face beginning to crumple in pleasure as he rubs determined circles into your clit, hoping to push you up that hill before he gets there.

You reach the summit seconds before he does, throwing your head back and tensing your legs to pull him in as deep as he can go while your cunt undulates and gushes around him in waves. Your release triggers his own, the euphoria that overtakes him blinding and deafening. Every nerve ending stands on edge, amplifying the twitching and jerking of his cock inside you, cum flowing out in bursts to paint your inner muscles white as he moans and whines.

It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a while, much better than the one he had alone in the shower after you left to get ready this morning, and it leaves him feeling drained but satiated and soothed. He pets at your hair clumsily, mumbling words of love and affection and fondness into your neck as he lets himself relax into you, taking care not to allow too much of his weight to rest on you.

You pet him back, your hands drifting over his shoulders and along his spine and your legs still wrapped tight around his hips. He’s not sure how long you stay intertwined like this, just that he goes soft eventually but doesn’t slip out, keeping the cum from spilling out of you and onto the bed.

He’s sure the bed will be dirty even if he rises carefully, so when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, he withdraws himself from you and lifts you into his arms once more, carrying you to the en suite and setting you down on the toilet so the rest can drip out. You wake up enough to hold yourself up, sending him a sleepy smile when he crouches in front of you and cups your face.

“I’m going to change the sheets, okay? I’ll come get you when I’m done,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your waiting, puckered lips before smooching your forehead and jogging off to do as he said.

You’re sitting at your vanity when he returns, your face dewy and your hair taken care of for the night. He smiles at the drowsy tilt to your eyes, reaching a hand out and taking yours to pull you back to the bedroom. You rise on shaky knees, following him to the bed and climbing in when he pulls the sheet and duvet back for you.

When you’re settled in on your side, he walks around to his own, sliding into his spot next to you and pulling the covers up to cover your bodies. You roll toward him immediately, seeking the heat of his arms and letting out a content sigh when they bundle you up against his chest.

“Mingyu, we’re going to have a baby,” you whisper tremulously, joy and wonder clear in your tone.

“We are,” he whispers back, his voice just as wobbly as yours. “Thank you, I love you.”

“Thank you. I never thought I could have this life. Especially not with you. I mean, you had to quit your job for me.”

“And I would quit one hundred times more, if it meant getting to be your husband. Besides, I think I’ll love my new job.”

“And what job is that?”

“Stay at home dad.”

AN: 😭😭😭 i so did not expect to write this in two freakin days but here we are!! i know settling down and starting a family isn't the ideal for everyone but it is for me and this couple 💖 and i loved getting to give that to them. thank you to @bbychocolat for brainstorming with me and for being my cheerleader ily forever 💖

pls reblog it makes my heart happy 🥰

My Masterlist

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killuintense · 9 months

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can you write a head cannon or a one shot (whatever you prefer<3) about fem!reader who is a virgin and leon’s first time? thank you and have a nice day

❝ so fast, princess? ❞

re6!leon kennedy x fem!reader.

summary: you knew that Leon was good at everything he did, but you didn't imagine that the first time between your legs would be so good.

content: 1.2k words, loss of virginity, age gap, +18 reader, body worship, kink degradation, size kink, breeding kink.

note: Ii hope you like it! i had these little ideas with Leon in his dilf era, but if you want me to talk about my hc about some more version of Leon, just ask! enjoy it ♡

Leon is a sweet boyfriend. Always careful, always taking you calmly in his arms, taking care of you from everything he considered a danger. And how could he not? In his already thirty-eight years he had experienced and lived thousands of atrocities, while you were his little girl. His little girl, who made him feel alive and young as he had once been.

That's why when the kisses went further and his hands traveled under your skirt, he always stopped. Generally he was not very discreet in his touches, sometimes when hugging you from behind, his lips would over kiss your neck and bite into the flesh with full intent to leave marks. Or even his hands massaged your breasts hungrily. But it had never been more than that.

But, fuck, you saw his goofy look when you bent down on purpose and let him look up your pleated skirt. You loved it when you played with that rough personality of his that refused to fuck you once and for all and make you stop being a virgin. You secretly laughed when he stopped the kissing session in which you rubbed her hard dick with your thighs, but covered by his pants, and ran to the bathroom with the excuse that he would be back quickly; and after a few seconds, when you leaned your ear on the door that separated them, a lot of curses mixed with your name escaped from his lips at the same time that a sticky and viscous sound became more and more constant and faster "Fuck, fuck, I need to fuck her so much...".

And what bothered you the most was how noble he could be. Going through all that repressed desire just to "give you your time" and "not hurt you" as he so insisted he would do. You didn't believe him, how much could happen? It was just sex and that was it, and you needed it as fast as you could get it.

Obviously, young and inexperienced, you had only recently come of age and could not bear not to have him inside you. That's why, when you insisted one day, pushing him to the limit, letting him not get out of bed to go to the bathroom (as was routine) and demanded that he stop being a coward and fuck you once and for all, his gaze seemed to darken enough to make you realize that what would happen next was entirely your responsibility.

And shit, he was rough and big as hell. You should have kept in mind that his age was also proof of how experienced he was, and that was clear to you his mouth was eating you, sucking and licking you so well that you didn't last more than a minute and you had to finish in his mouth "So fast, princess?" God. He was treating you so well, but he was so demanding, taking you as he wanted, squeezing all the areas of your body he hadn't been able to taste, leaving you with marks from his fingers because of how hard he was squeezing you; once you agreed to get to know that side of him, you understood why he had wanted to hold back.

"If I had known you would moan like a slut, I would have tasted this pussy a long time ago" the click produced between his mouth and you cunt was getting wetter, because you were getting hotter.

You had heard your friends say that older men were the best, because unlike younger boys, they seemed to make things less awkward and knew exactly where to touch. But you didn't know that Leon would know so well where to touch so that such obscene sounds would escape your mouth.

Leon doesn't hesitate to touch you, as if he knew your limits, to squeeze, to go slower when you wanted faster, all to make you cry and then compensate you with an orgasm. One better than the other.

The best part is when he desperately took off his clothes. While you always teased each other that he was so much bigger than you, his body was totally out of this world to you; big soft pectorals that you wanted to squeeze, arms that at the slightest bend or strain seemed to show off his veins in more detail, that marked abs, and the blond hair that forced you down at the start of his jeans.

You wanted to scream madly when he pulled down his jeans and threw them to a corner of the room, with his bulge completely suffocated by his underwear, your mouth was already watering. And you checked his size when he was finally completely naked, he looked big, dripping and about to explode. You cursed him for not letting you see more when he tugged at your thighs and settled between them.

You trembled as much as you could and he calmed you down; there he was again, the loving and understanding Leon who accompanied you until his member was completely inside you, inside you cursing loudly for feeling you so tight around him as he struggled not to cum hard at that very moment.

He took advantage of you in every way he could, taking you as he imagined every time he masturbated on your behalf, he fucked you with the force he was holding back as he drove you into the mattress and you broke down in moans begging him for more and more. The pain stopped being so stabbing as you felt the tip of his cock mistreat your womb with asperity and mercilessness, but now it seemed to smother you in pleasure "Your pussy is fucking perfect, so tight, and it's all for me, isn't it? " it seemed that penetrating you in that wild way was not enough for him, he was massaging your tits with adoration, sucking your neck with no qualms about the marks he would leave "You have no ideas of the places where I'm going to fuck that nice tight pussy you have, dammit..." his voice getting huskier and more desperate, your breasts and thighs bouncing harder and harder as the clashing of their skins got louder and louder, to the point of flooding the whole room.

You felt Leon's climax to the point that you ended up just feeling his cum fill you, as he moaned your name into your neck, and gave one last thrust. It was hot, thick, another way to mark you, to make you feel his. He kept kissing your lips, sucking relentlessly as he almost crushed you with the weight of his body, making you practically swoon from the sensory overflow you were experiencing.

And, after he'd rip you to shreds in bed, he'd take the time to clean you up, make soft little funny and loving comments; telling you how good you were, how good you made him feel, caressing you with his finger marks and hickeys or bites he'd left behind. He would make you feel hot as hell, and then take care of you like an angel.

And you were definitely thankful that you lost your virginity to him; even if it took you two days of your life to walk normally.

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dazaichuuya69 · 1 year

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Can I have Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya and Akutagawa with a s/o who’s normally shy, but is secretly very kinky?

Character/s - Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya, Akutagawa, gn! reader

Warning/s - Smut, kinky stuff, swearing but not like a lot

Notes - HOLY FUCK THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING!! I decided to do hcs for these because I felt like I could write more like this but if you want something else just ask. Also writing for Akutagawa was surprisingly fun

Osamu Dazai

He will find out all of your kinks.

You can't hide anything from him, he was called the demon prodigy of the port mafia for a reason

Only he'll probably use less violent methods to get you to tell him

Basically you'll just sit on his lap and watch porn together

He WILL be able to read your reactions so don't even try hiding them from him because believe me, he did feel the subtle way you tried to grind on his cock when you saw those people getting tied up, and he definitely saw the ways your eyes looked at the computer screen when you saw that person getting gagged and blindfold

So once you've seen all that porn, he has you tied to the bed with a blindfold on, while he does whatever he wants to you <3

By the end, neither of you have any secrets, because he fucked them all out

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You are PERFECT for him. He loves how you act shy but are secretly kinky as fuck

But because Fyodor's mean he makes you tell him exactley what you want

And if you dont he WILL deny you of your orgasm until you do because he's a sadist!

He loves making you wear a vibrator in public just because of how flustered you are when he *accidently* turns it to the highest setting just when you want to say something

And this is only one of the very fun things he does to either embarrass you, or get you to admit your kinky desires

Some of the others include making you walk around naked all day, and having to call him master until eventually you tell him all the things you want to do

And then surprisingly he actually does them

Chuuya Nakahara

Found out while you two were having sex because unlike Dazai and Fyodor, he is not a sadist.

He had a bad day at the mafia and was looking for a good way to relieve stress

So he pinned you to the table and started degrading you while fucking you

Like, really roughly

Only you kept on getting more aroused

I mean who doesn't want Chuuya to call them a dirty slut

He knew that talking about your kinks probably wouldn't work because of how shy you were

So the next time you had sex he tried it again, and kept on trying more things to see what you liked

Until eventually, he had you tied to the bed and blindfolded while he fucked you with his gun <3

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

After you've had sex a few times, he just decides to ask you about it

But, given how shy you were, you didn't really get anywhere because HE was blushing too

Well, not exactly blushing, but he was definitely flustered

So he just wrote down all the kinks he could think of on a bit of paper, gave it to you and all you had to do was circle the ones you liked!

Talks to Chuuya and Gin about the ones you circled so that he knew how to prevent risks of you were doing something like breathplay, because he has basically no experience in this stuff

Chuuya and Gin were so shocked. So so shocked.

Akutagawa already had everything laid out on the bed as well as some water on the side for when you finished, but that won't be for another few hours because he will find out exactly what you like

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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AU where y/n and producer eren were very much high school sweet hearts, then years later deciding to take their relationship to the next level as in losing their virginity 🙃

ANONNN, why’d you do me like thissss?? This is genius 😫 not even to spoil but this was literally the alternate plot line to reverb LSLFKFJ. Ugh this is just too damn cute so ofc imma talk about it.

content + themes: both reader and eren are virgins, reverb spoilers, lots of sweet stuff, bc I can’t handle angst rn, gentle sex/smut, accidental cream pie, this is SUPERRRRR long bc y’all know I love detail and got 20,000 pages of lore for these two!! Smut is at the end so if ya’ll can’t wait, I’m sorry.

eren left home at what would be considered incredibly young by most standards. At fifteen years old, he found himself frequenting the mall and playing basketball down at the local park in the suburbia of Montclair, New Jersey to being thrust into the fast paced lifestyle of Miami, Florida. The harsh, crime ridden town known as Opa Locka to be exact. A complete contrast by a long shot. Even so, with spite and determination on his heart; fueled only by his desire to win this illustrious battle called the rap game, he toughed it out and persevered. Not only that, to rid himself of the toxic past that had scarred him and a family who betrayed him. Make no mistake, his ‘privileged’ upbringing was nothing more than a mere experience and not a part of his identity. He never tried to pretend that he was ‘hard’ or tough, no need for a facade, he was simply Eren and that was all it took. He also never viewed anyone as different or beneath him because of how he grew up. Most of his friends back home came from very humble beginnings and had less than savory lifestyles. It wasn’t something he did for shock value or to piss of his parents. He just always had a knack for befriending others who may have been cast aside or forgotten about because he knew the feeling quite well. So it came as no surprise when he enrolled in the local high school to finish out his last couple years, he was a rarity in these parts…looking and acting completely different from everyone else. But it didn’t take long for the green eyed brunette with the buttery smooth voice and oblivious charm to assimilate.

“Wassup, EJ?” “Hey, EJ!”

from the classroom to the hallways, he was greeted by his fellow student body, who at first, saw him as an easy target. Alluding to the fact that he must’ve been some rich boy stuck in the middle of the hood to be “taught a lesson” or something of the sort. That it wouldn’t be two weeks because he was tucking tail and getting his ass back on the first bus to Jersey. Little did they know, he was the last person to back down and damn sure the last one to run from anyone! During gym class, there was a scrimmage basketball game, nothing too serious or exerting, just a little fun competition. It was then that not only did Eren catch the eye of the boy’s team head coach and that of (y/n) (l/n). Who had been discreetly seated against the wall after running two miles. You had been quietly observing the game and having grown up around tremendous players; spending afternoons down at the Boys and Girls Club..you recognized talent from a mile away. That also could’ve been attributed to the fact that you were the current co-captain of the majorette team, where you danced during games. Even so, you always stayed to yourself. Never really clinging to one group or another, truthfully only talking to your best friend. Your head in a book and studying was your only focus. That much was apparent by your four point two grade point average. Nonetheless, this new boy couldn’t help but to grab your attention. It was unfortunately for that reason, that his opponents once the game ended, would use that to his advantage.

not exactly keen on the idea of having somebody like him strutting around..besting them in a sport they’d always exceeded at and intriguing the girls who never even so much as paid them attention, they were pissed! So as anyone with stunted emotional maturity would, they decided to try and ambush the new student in the locker room. Granted, he was a little smaller and had just hit six foot one inches. He was fairly tall but still lanky and skinny. So he’d have his work cut out for him. Unsuspecting of the attack, he chopped it up with classmates and laughed on his way back. But not without flashing you a glance first. That ultimately made your heart flutter a little..you didn’t pay attention to boys often and had many speculating that you were possibly gay but no one had ever roused your fancy. In a way, you envied him. As someone from the proverbial ‘other side of the tracks’, who was different from you all in any facet was fitting in just fine! Quickly becoming the talk of the school. Meanwhile, you were a lifelong resident of this city and yet, you never drew any attention on yourself. Outside of your impeccable dancing. Hell, everyone always referred to you as ‘the quiet girl’. A moniker that you were proudly..the less you spoke, the less trouble you could find yourself in.

however, that peaceful life would come to an end when you’d walk towards the girls locker room and find yourself stopped by the gaggle of guys who were planning their ambush for after school whilst he was walking home. They figured he’d be an easy lick but they couldn’t be too relaxed. He mystified them all..acting completely oblivious to his environment, never behaving differently; talking exactly the same and all or even seeming afraid. He was the same person regardless of where he went. So that’s when they’d try to enlist your help. “Aye, (y/n). Lemme talk to you right quick..” waving you over and although you were about to ignore him, you accepted anyway. A tall dread head with a bottom row of golds gleaming from his mouth. Something he wasn’t supposed to have but did anyways. “I seen you looking at jit earlier, you like white boy, don’t you?” Immediately feigning any sort of confirmation. Acting uninterested as always. “That’s what you called me over here for? I gotta go change—“ but before you could coldly turn on your heel, he’d grab your shoulder and request a ‘simple’ favor:

“Help us set his ass up. He ain’t been here a whole month and already actin’ like he run this shit. We’ll even give you a cut.” but again, you didn’t care! Him or any of their petty jealousy was none of your concern. That boy hadn’t said the first word to you or even bothered you in the slightest. The hell did you look like conspiring with these dumbasses to not only bully him but to tarnish your hard work? Smacking your lips, you’d merely brush his hand away and continue to walk by. “As my granny says, you can’t get blood from a turnip. If you wanna risk jail for some stupid shit, do it by yourself. I’m not interested.” truthfully, Eren was no more wealthy than anybody here. Working odd jobs after school and rooming at a boys home on the southside. Hell, he could barely even afford lunch sometimes!

but alas, this only seemed to enrage your peers. See, the ring leader was the current basketball team captain and a shoe-in for first draft to a top college once he graduated. However, there was another side of him..a hothead with a bit of a past. Selling drugs and hanging with bad crowds..a mere product of the environment. But basketball was his ticket out. Hence was, considering that he stayed in trouble, grades were a wreck and he had a bad reputation. It was his exceptional skill that was keeping him in his spot and that alone. The coach overlooked a lot of his antics just to have a star player. Nothing new. However, with Eren on the scene, his position was threatened. Contrary to his belief, it had less to do with his skin and the fact that he was a better player with less of a headache! He had better grades, better manners and a lot more skill. Teachers constantly complained to the coach to kick him off the team so he could focus on his academic studies. Several calls were made home with no answer from parents..it was a crazy situation. Even so, it was no excuse for his behavior. Almost everyone here came from hard circumstances, he just loved acting this way!..especially when it came to preying on the weaker..

“Oh I see, you gon’ take his side but not mine? You green as hell, (y/n). Some ol’ weird ass shit, bruh. You really not tryna’ help me?…” even getting closer, despite your pushback. “Darius, imma tell you one more time. Leave me alone. Ion want no parts of this. It’s not my business.” But before you could do anything else, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back. A cliche if you had ever seen or experienced one. But just as the old time tale went, your knight and shining armor would swoop in to defend your honor.

“I think she said leave her alone.”

a familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard often but enough to recognize. The reason behind this whole ordeal..

“Wasn’t nobody talking to you. Mind your business.” “This is my business. Putting your hands on a girl..I see your sorry ass jump shot ain’t the only thing that’s weak.”

which only pissed him off even further. Long story short, he’d attempt to pick a fight with the ever so sly Eren but to no avail. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not out of fear but because he wasn’t worth the energy. Eren was a bit of a hothead, even admitting so himself. However, he couldn’t afford to screw up right now. Getting into unnecessary fights would only put him in an even worse situation..especially for the people caring for him. He had done that once and wasn’t about to let it happen again. “(Y/N), right? That’s your name?..” answering him with a nod. “Don’t worry about him. You go ahead, beautiful. He won’t do anything..I can promise you that.” Standing toe to toe with the taller bully. His cheeks puffed up and fuming in rage. Meanwhile, Eren wore nothing but a smirk. He could fume all he wanted but as long as he didn’t put his hands on him. If he took it there, then he’d be glad to show him why trying him wasn’t wise..

luckily, the coach noticed the bubbling scuffle and told them to break it up. Fast forward a few days, give or take and you’d see Eren around campus. Always carrying a pair of headphones and a notebook. Two things he’d never be caught without. One thing was for sure, he was an intriguing dude for sure..you’d eventually find yourselves paired up for a project and needless to say, you were incredibly nervous. Mainly because neither of you had spoken since that day in the gym. It wasn’t for a lack of you being thankful, you just didn’t know what to say. That was until you were in the library doing research together and you’d blurt out your gratitude, along with your apology. Which made him laugh! “What are you thanking me for? He only did that because of me. If anything I should apologize to you.” He was so respectful and bashful, qualities you truly admired. Although he remained shrouded in mystery, he was fascinating and you wanted to know more about him and turns out, you’d learn a pretty interesting tidbit of information! “You have a point. I mean, are you really planning to take his spot as captain though—“ which only further fueled his hysterics. He’d double over laughing and all you could do was give him a look of confusion. “Why are you laughing? I ain’t that funny.” “I’m sorry. I just..listen, I don’t know what you were told but I don’t want his spot. Basketball’s fun, it’s sum’ to do but I already know what I want.” And his answer would shock you, truly. See, Eren had always had an affinity for music. Singing, playing all sorts of instruments since he was a little kid and recently, he’d taken to writing his own songs. That infamous notebook he carried? Filled with poems and songs about everything from basic lines to his deepest emotions. Spilling his heart onto the page as he talked about his family, his anger towards his father and even the loss of someone he held dear to him. Sometimes, they weren’t about him at all..they were just vivid portrayals of elusive tales. He obviously had quite the story to tell but he couldn’t do it or even have the time shooting balls into a hoop. He told the coach he’d consider but his true goal?

“You wanna be the drum major?!” “Yeah, why not? I mean, I know it’s prolly lame but it’s one of my favorite instruments. It was the first one I learned..to me, the drum line is the highlight of the game. They make it entertaining.”

but little did he know, he had piqued your interest for sure! You were so flustered you tried to feign it off but he was too freaking cute! Here you were expecting this athletic, cocky playboy who only cared about girls and being popular but he was so much more than you expected! A nerd just like you. And you knew so for the fact that you’d never held a conversation with a man longer than to give them the answer to a question or let them borrow a textbook. He was so captivating. But perhaps, getting to do incredible solos at halftime wasn’t his only motivation to join the school music program. He had other reasons as well..

“Besides..I would actually get to see you perform. I call it a win.” Causing you to scoff, dismissing his seemingly perverted comments.. “Oh, so you just like everybody else.” but the tension was misplaced. He admired your craft and respected it. Seeing you doing your moves while walking past the gym on his way home, how hard you worked and just overall how graceful you looked. Not to mention, you were drop dead gorgeous! The prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.. “..I seen you practicing the other day and you’re really good, (y/n). You’re completely different when you’re dancing. You seem really happy..I mean, you make the dance team from my school back home look like stiff ass robots.” Earning his first giggle out of you. From that day forward, a beautiful friendship blossomed..studying together, eating lunch in the library, walking home with you as his group home wasn’t far away, sneaking into the chorus room so you could hear him playing the piano and singing. A privilege reserved strictly for you. Making you sob when you heard his rendition of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Ribbon In The Sky.’ He was so kind, sweet and it didn’t take long before rumors of you guys dating began to permeate through the school. Hallway whispers of you ‘going with that new boy’. It was all the rave. It didn’t help matters any when at the mention of each other’s names, you’d both freeze up like popsicles! It was adorable, really. A budding crush that would soon bloom into something far more than just a platonic bond. After about six months into his arrival at your school, Eren had undoubtedly made a name for himself for not only his basketball skills but his musical ones as well. He had made good on his promise to join the band and make his first step toward becoming drum major. Because the band and majorette team often performed together, you’d be together at practice also and eventually, became inseparable. Flashing you smiles and watching intently while you performed your solos. Him joining proved to be a great addition to an already powerful band because he was so talented and kept up quite nice. In no time flat, he mastered the quads and studied underneath the current drum major, playing at games. Even when he decided to cave and accept the offer to join the basketball team, he had the pleasure of seeing you dance during intermission and even greeting him after the game with a giant hug. You in your shimmering leotard and him in his drenched basketball uniform.. number nineteen printed on the back.

“You looked good out there, princess.” A name he affectionately called you because your team’s competitive name were the Crowned Royalty as your school mascot were knights. And because you often times outshined the reigning captain, you were dubbed “The Princess.” Besides, it sounded so much better coming from him. “Nah, that was all you, Mr. Star Player.” It didn’t take long before he’d do the one thing everyone had been waiting on and ask you to be his girlfriend! With encouragement from his teammates and homeboys, Connie Springer and Onyakopon. They too treated you like a little sister, always teasing you and making sure you were good in Eren’s absence. “You one of us so we gotta make sure you good.” They all worked together at a local shoe store and stayed only three houses down from one another so they spent a lot of time together. In addition to their shared passion and talent with music. Granted, neither of you had experience with dating or having many friendships for that matter but it felt so natural when you were around each other. His cheeks flushed with red the entire time he held your hand on the way to class. Your entire body trembling when he kissed your forehead because you were too scared to kiss on the lips at the time. Even sitting next to him and his friends at lunch was an experience. Listening to them freestyle and make beats. Your best friend Niesha, right beside you, teasing you about how cute your man was and how you’d gotten lucky. And all you could do was shake your head. Eventually, all five of you became thick as thieves. Hanging out after school, going roller skating on weekends when practice permitted and just stayed in your own little bubble. You loved it so much. It was the first time you’d ever had a friends’ group, a true support system.

your grandmother and sole caretaker since you were a kid was absolutely thrilled to see it. Although you called her your best friend, she was happy to see you coming home excited to tell her about something besides a book or your report card. As proud as she was of her baby, she wanted you to experience life. Often times, she’d invite all of them over and cook you all large meals that were nothing short of heaven! Repayment for the boys coming by to mow the grass or help with repairs. They were more than thrilled to do it. “My future grandson in law is a nice young man, ain’t he?” A statement you’d brush off with a smack of your lips. “Cut it out, granny. Ain’t even like that.” She adored Eren and when she learned that he could sing, knowing a few gospel songs as well..she all but claimed him now! He was family and you were so glad that he was in your life. A likewise feeling because for once, he felt as if he belonged. One night, while meeting at your usual spot in the park, high on top of a jungle gym where you’d gaze under the stars, you’d ask him one thing:

“You ever thought about what you want to do with your life?”

and to him, that answer was simple. “..I wanna change the world.”

a dream he’d held onto for as long as he could remember. He loved music more than anything and he wanted his to transcend any genre, any one archetype. He wanted what he created to someone’s reason for living, someone’s inspiration to keep going even when things got dark. He wanted it to put smiles on the faces of people who listened..he didn’t care about awards or being some mega celebrity, he just wanted to pour his heart into what he made and hoped somebody heard his passion.

“And I want you right beside me…(y/n). I don’t wanna do any of this without you.” Clutching your hand atop the structure. He had never been this vulnerable or open with anyone in his life but now was a good of time as any to start.. “..I know everybody prolly thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid who left home just to piss off my folks. Honestly, their opinions stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago..my mom, I love her so much and I really do miss her. I hope one day I can step to her as a man and apologize for putting her through so much. Making her worry about me…” as he spoke, you could feel the tension in his hand as he squeezed yours. This was the first time he’d spoke in detail as to why he was alone down here in such a dangerous city when he by all accounts lived lavishly back home. “I just couldn’t stay..not when my own old man is a fucking coward. I know it’s a long shot but at least I can stand on it. Him? He’ll sell his soul for a dollar. I could never be under the same roof as someone like that. I will do this and I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll make a way for myself so I never have to depend on anybody ever again.” You couldn’t help but to feel that you were missing part of the story but maybe it was something far too traumatizing to hash out in detail right now so as you’d always done, you’d support him. Cradling your arms around him with a giant hug before kissing his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Eren. I promise. I know you’ll make it and I wanna be right there by your side. I love you.” “I love you too, (y/n).” Words that sounded insane from a teenager but you meant it. Meant it more so than anything you’d ever said! Some people would say you were too young to know what you wanted but you both knew that no matter what path you took, as long as you walked it together, you were unstoppable!

soon, graduation was right around the corner. You two attended prom together, even made homecoming king and queen and by all accounts, had an amazing senior year! You guys turned eighteen only a couple months apart and thus, were thrusted into adulthood. Working here and there to provide for yourselves all while chasing your dreams. You’d gotten accepted into the University of Miami on a dance scholarship and even though it was a huge opportunity..your heart was misplaced. You felt like another cog in the wheel and a moving piece on a machine. You’d love to dance your entire life but you wanted something more than this. Stiff eight counts and bland rehearsals. Something refreshing..that’s when you’d begin taking pole classes outside of school! An idea you came up with after seeing a popular dancer on Instagram and she looked so graceful..surrounded by plants with her beautiful afro as she swung around the pole. She looked so free!…you wanted to experience that joy too. It took no time at all for you to master the craft and just like that, your spark was reinvigorated. By this time, Eren was all but halfway to his own goal after going viral for singing in the store he worked at and still very much an important fixture in your life. He managed to catch the eye of one of the industry’s top executives and legendary musician herself, Vivian James. She was one of your grandmother’s favorites, despite being younger than her. This woman had a powerhouse of a voice and needless to say, Eren’s had her intrigued.

“You did it, ‘ren. I’m so proud of you, baby!”

although he hadn’t quite made it yet it was one hell of a start. It wouldn’t be easy but he was willing to put in every bit of the work it took to succeed. Having you there to encourage him would be all the strength he needed to keep going. But he wanted to support your dreams as well! He never wanted this relationship to be one sided. “What about you, princess? Do you really like dancing for the school? Are you happy?” If anyone could see through the facade, it was your boyfriend of almost three years. He saw how amazing you were when you did pole. It didn’t matter which avenue of dance you took, you excelled but he’d never seen you more happy than when you were twirling midair and doing all these crazy stunts. He wanted you to be safe, of course, but he wanted to find joy in something the way he did. “I just..I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing or what they expect of me. I loved majorette but pole is just so different. I have so much fun.” There it was, a glimmer in your eye that couldn’t be sated when you spoke about it. The rush you felt setter coming down from a death drop. Eventually, you’d go on to quit the dance team, forfeiting your scholarship but your grades alone afforded you many other grants and things so you’d do online classes while working for your uncle’s shop and practicing under his wing. Eventually you found the courage to upload yourself online and it wasn’t long before you reached your own bit of notoriety. Captivating thousands with not only your skills but your stunning looks. Eren always called you princess but honestly, you were like a divine being. A goddess and sometimes, not even he could believe you were real.

before either of you knew it, you were nearing twenty and your dreams were falling into place. It seemed as if the hard times and rainy days both of you had gone through were over. You were so ecstatic when he got his own place, after securing and successfully completing an audition with AMG. The biggest talent agency in the country. Along side his two best friends nonetheless and eventually asked you to move in with him. But it wasn’t the only proposal he had. No, there was something else he needed to ask you..so with trembling hands, tearful eyes and in the same empty park where you’d spend countless nights talking about your futures; surrounded by faux candlelight and roses, he’d ask the one thing you never thought you’d hear:

“Will you marry me, (y/n) (l/n)? Will you do this forever with me?”

and it was no question! The answer was yes, a million times over! That night, the two of you exchanged intense, heavy kisses and warm, inviting touches underneath the moonlight of your very first place. A one bedroom apartment but it didn’t matter. It felt like a castle; an unreal fantasy when you had him. You’d let him caress and run his hands along your body. Kissing and licking your neck on the frameless mattress as your nude bodies entangled in the white sheet covering them. Neither of you had ever done anything like this before and although you were nervous as all hell, you were ready. Ready to take this next step. When you were in school, so many other kids were already going the extra mile and some had even fallen pregnant by the time you graduated. But your love was so pure and innocent, sex seemed like a foreign concept. It was the furthest thing from your minds. You enjoyed being around each other. The feeling you derived just from when he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest with a kiss to your forehead. You never felt pressured to lose your virginity because you knew that a moment like this would make it all the more special and that he’d be the only one you’d share it with. So in that moment, Eren moved his tongue down your body, kissing and marking your neck with a trail of sloppy pecks. Your hands trailed up his back that had now been stamped with his first tattoo. His hair..that once tapered brown haired cut was dangling in front of your face as half of it remained tied into a bun. He had often dreamed about what this moment would consist of..how it would feel to be given the flower of his beloved. To ‘pop’ your cherry and have the honor of being your first and vice versa. Would he hurt you? Would he fuck it up? His only true goal was to know that you were feeling good. He didn’t want to sound like a weird degenerate but his only experience was through videos and his hand. And yours? He was scared! So terrified that you had to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe as he was trembling when he began to touch your sensitive center.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just us here…take your time. You’re doing so good..”

only backed up when he slowly circulated his fingers around on your clit and watched you writhe in pleasure. Whimpering and crying out his name. It was so slippery and juicy but he assumed that was a good thing from the way you rutted your hips and pushed down on the single digit that he put inside of you. “Oh my God…Eren that feels so good!..” “It does? I’m so glad, baby.. can I keep keep going, like that?” Watching you break into a smile as your eyes squeezed shut was as close to nirvana as he could get. He loved seeing you happy. Breathing heavier and begging for more when you added another and stimulated you even more. You were so incredibly tight that he was sweating bullets, wondering how he’d be able to fit inside of you. How could he top this moment?…carefully examining your body; that gorgeous skin, those perfectly round breasts that had grown exponentially since he’d first met you, dark nipples erect and drenched in his saliva as he kissed them softly and those curves that had only filled out in all the right places. He wanted to adore this beautiful body forever..make love to you until he perfected it. Until he could know every bump, line and curve that made up your frame. So much so that even in absence, you’d crave one another and no one else could ever fill that void. He wanted to love you with his eyes closed. To know every tick, every like, dislike and point that made you explode with pleasure. He wanted to be yours in flesh, mind and spirit until you both left this earth.

eventually, you’d find yourself squirming around in the sheets and with his fingers alone, you’d reach your very first orgasm! The feeling was so indescribable, you couldn’t even speak. Only curse and flail around, which he thought was so cute. Chuckling as he pulled you to his chest with a cooing tone. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. There you go, just let it out.” Embarrassed by the fact that you let out a gentle stream of liquid, thinking you had actually urinated but it was the furthest thing from. “Trust me, that’s not what happened. It’s okay, beautiful.” Neither of you even gave a damn. All you wanted was to experience him in his entirety. You’d look down and see that his cock was stiff. Swollen, thick and glowing red at the tip. You’d never seen one in real life but by comparison, it was huge and you were so scared, your knees pushed together and began to buckle as you swallowed a large gulp, wondering how you were supposed to take all of that inside of you… “..we can go slow. We don’t have to fit it all at once. You just let me know how much you can handle, okay baby?” Seemingly trying to console you when he was all but losing his mind. Slowly but surely, his tip would make place atop your overly sensitive slit. Splitting open your folds with that puffy mushroom tip. Bright red and dripping with cum..he was so ready to make you his. “Eren…” hearing the nervous yet needy quiver in your voice made him twitch on his own but he’d merely chuckle, reaching down to stroke your face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care you, okay princess? Here, hold my hands.” without hesitation, completing devoting yourself to him, you’d intertwine your fingers with his own as he integrated from the top to the inside of your warm center. Both of you broke into a high pitched gasp, never experimenting such a sensation before. It was truly like magic..

“Oh fuck..” the words escaping each of your lips as the same time, so much so, it made you and him break into a giggle. The realization of the moment setting on you both. “We’re actually doing this, huh?” “..yeah, but I wouldn’t want it with anyone else..” with that, he’d lean down and brush the side of your face as he began to buck his hips. “I’m gonna start moving, okay? You just let me know if I need to stop..” acknowledging his question with a nod, he’d persist forth and keep pushing. One slow stroke turned into two and before he knew it, he had established a rhythm. Being as gentle and doting as possible. That tight flesh sucking him in with each thrust but still not giving way..you’d squirm and whimper but all from pleasure. You’d claw at his sides and although your eyes were shut tight, you’d let him know that you were alright. Eventually, that room filled with soft cries and the two of you uttering each others names, along with lewd moans. “It’s..so good! Fuck…” “..please, keep moving..don’t stop, Eren.” Begging for more, despite the fact that his shaft had become coated in a very thin sheath of blood and a few tears trailed down your cheek. Signifying that he had finally unwrapped the gift that you’d waited so long for him to claim. The mattress began to jolt around and the floor underneath creaking from the sounds of your lovemaking. That red liquid soon replaced by a clear mucus and his dick nestled inside of you to the halfway mark. What felt like an eternity was in reality..only five minutes and already, he was about to tap out. Panting and breathing heavily as that pace sped up. His pattern was off kilter but he still had you clawing for the sheets, screaming his name. “Yes, baby! Right there, I can feel it again. I’m gonna—“ but before you could announce your own climatic peak, he’d beat you to the punch and without thinking or warning, he’d let out a loud cry, sobbing even and spouting expletives the entire time as a warm load filled your newly defiled cunt. He was in such shock, it didn’t even dawn on him until he’d look down and see it spilling out of you.

“I—shit. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I’m so sorry, (y/n)!” But it was fine. You trusted him so dearly, the two of you forgot any protection. Luckily, you had long been on birth control for reasons unrelated to sex so you weren’t scared. Besides, in that moment, all you knew was that you wanted more. You didn’t want this moment to cease for anything. “It’s okay, baby..I’m fine. Come here..” beckoning him towards you so you could get another one of those divine kisses. It was the best part. With you both having experienced that high for the first time, you didn’t want to come down so for the entire duration of that night, the two of you made love. Exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Laughing, kissing, touching and making blunders..the joy that could only come from true lovers. A long time coming certainly, but a moment nonetheless that was worth the wait. By the time you finished, you were both an emotional wreck. Crying but only out of pure rejoice. Having given yourself to the one man that you’d love for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Eren..”

“I love you more, (y/n)..”

and this time, there was no question, hesitation or doubt when those words were uttered. You were older now and for a flame that everyone was certain would die out, it was now burning brighter than ever.

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