#fashionable always felt excessive

[mariamagdalenaposting]

🎉🎉🎉 FIXED MY BIKE 🎉🎉🎉

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty P.A. Chapter 7

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.  **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname ** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

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Y/N knew she needed to talk to Bucky, but couldn’t get the courage to do it.  Two weeks later Olympus was reached out to by Vogue, wanting to do a story about Bucky being a supermodel turned agency director.  He agreed and they found themselves being flown to Lake Como in Italy for a photoshoot.  Bucky looked pristine in his all-white outfit, getting doused with water to look like he’d just come out of the lake, his long hair meticulously placed as they wetted it.  Y/N smirked at how handsome he looked.  He’d promised her a fancy dinner that night, and she couldn’t wait to get him to bed with the cool spring air and the amazing views of the area.  

“God, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” one of the other assistants on the shoot, Yelena, said as she walked up to her.

Y/N huffed a laugh as they watched him once again pull himself onto the dock, the camera going off a million times.  He stood and pushed his hair back.  “Yes,” she agreed.

“You’re so lucky to get to work for that,” Yelena whispered, gesturing towards Bucky’s body and giving Y/N a suggestive nudge to her arm.  Y/N just smiled.  She was very lucky.  “Is he, uh, seeing anyone?” Yelena asked, licking her lips.

Y/N silently sighed.  This was a constant question she had to shield every time they went somewhere for work.  She wanted to scream, to stomp her feet, make a scene, but she merely shook her head.  “He’s very private about those kinds of things, so I wouldn’t know,” Y/N said noncommittally.  

Yelena hummed and shrugged.  “Well, I’ll just have to figure it out myself,” she winked at Y/N and started walking down the pier towards Bucky and the team behind the camera.

Y/N subtly glared at Yelena as she approached Bucky and fixed his hair again, her fingers lingering along his jaw before she turned and talked to one of the other assistants.  Bucky gave Yelena a quizzical look but focused back on the camera as they caught a few more shots.  Y/N waited until they called it quits, but Yelena stayed back and talked with Bucky for a few minutes.  He was being polite and friendly, as he was with everyone, but she kept touching his arm, pushing his hair back again as it dripped water, and laughing excessively at whatever he said.  Y/N’s jaw ticked, aching with how hard she was clenching it.  Yelena was beautiful, short like Y/N but slender.  She and Bucky weren’t exclusive, but she felt the jealousy and frustration rage inside her as he dismissed himself but she followed him up the pier.  Y/N tried to keep her face neutral as he walked up to her and smiled.  “Hey babes,” he greeted her.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the pet name he reserved for private times, and Yelena blinked in surprise.  “Hey,” Y/N said, pulling out his water bottle and handing it to him.  “Did they give the all clear?”

“Yep, we’re finished,” Bucky said, gulping down the water before handing it back to her.  “I’m just gonna get cleaned up then we’ll go to dinner.”  Y/N nodded with a side smile.  He turned to Yelena.  “Thank you for your help today.  I look forward to seeing the final product in a couple of months.”

Yelena looked a little put out but nodded politely.  “Of course, thank you for coming.”

Bucky quickly linked his arm with Y/N and led her towards the beach house that they were staying in just a short walk away from the pier.  They didn’t say anything to each other on the way, and when they finally reached the door Bucky led her inside then locked it behind them soundly.  He suddenly grabbed Y/N and pinned her to the door, his head dipping down to start kissing at her neck while his hands wandered around her body.  “Jealous, babes?” he muttered.

Y/N squirmed and pushed him away, but he kept smirking at her.  “No,” Y/N said.  She dodged his arms and walked around him, leading the way to the bedroom.

“Oh come on, Y/N, it’s okay,” Bucky chuckled as he followed her.

Y/N kept walking, ignoring him as she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower for him.  “Clean up,” she instructed him before turning to leave.

“Woah, babes,” Bucky said, suddenly serious.  He grabbed her by the shoulders and made her face him.  “Hey, I was just teasing.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, keeping her gaze at his chest.  “We never specified if we were exclusive.  You’re free to do whatever, or whoever, you want.”

Bucky scoffed and let go of her shoulders.  “Are you seeing other people?” he asked with a bitter tone.

“No,” Y/N said, glancing at him.

“Neither am I,” he said, stepping toward her and pinning her against the sink.  “Look at me, babes.”  Y/N sighed heavily then met his gaze.  He watched her for a moment, the shower making the bathroom start to steam up.  “I don’t want to be with anyone else.  Only you.  I don’t want you with anyone else.  Only me.  And I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear before,” he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose.  “We were just…happy.  I didn’t think I’d need to.”

“Well you do,” Y/N said quietly.  

Bucky sighed this time, his smirk coming back.  “You’re mine.  I’m yours.  We belong to each other.  Exclusively.  You wanna be my girlfriend?  Great.  You’re my girlfriend.  Though that seems like a pale description of what you mean to me.”

Y/N frowned.  “What do you mean?”

Bucky smiled fully at her question.  “What words could possibly do you justice?  You are my everything.  My center.  My sun.  You are the greatest thing that has happened to me.  My greatest achievement.  Not because I conquered you in any way, but because I somehow won your heart, and it's my most prized possession.”  Y/N could feel her eyes fill with tears.  “I told you that first night.  All I want is you, babes.  Whether that means as my girlfriend, my fiance, my wife, though none of those words will fully express what it is you mean to me.”

Y/N’s tears finally fell and Bucky quickly wiped them away.  She had never cried in front of him before, so it felt very vulnerable, but she smiled up at him.  ���I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered.

Bucky’s smile widened.  “I mean it.  Every word.”

“I love you,” Y/N confessed.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his forehead against her forehead.  “God that feels so good to hear,” he whispered.  He opened his eyes and gazed at her.  “I love you.”  Y/N cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down to kiss her.  He happily reciprocated, his arms winding around her waist and holding her tight to him as he deepened the kiss.  They stayed there, almost swaying as they kissed, until he chuckled against her lips.  “Now you’re all wet,” he said, looking down at his wet clothes soaking up her outfit.

“Looks like we’re both going to need to clean up,” Y/N smirked suggestively.

Bucky groaned at her tone, quickly stripping them both and leading her to the shower.

@calwitch @hzdhrtss

[kittttycakes]

red currant

Read on AO3 here. No one can outrun grief, not even Morpheus, formerly Dream of the Endless. Grief is patient, and it will wait, even in the aisles of a grocery store, to take him into its arms and hold him tight. contents: Dreamling, human Morpheus, post-Kindly Ones, mild gore, brief discussion of food-related issues, grief

At first, Morpheus was too busy dealing with a body that needed things. It was often too cold, its joints ached terribly, and it took him longer than he cared to admit to recognize what hunger and thirst actually felt like. The latter came with their own host of indignities, not least of which was the seeming inability to properly digest dairy, and a strong aversion to certain textures, no matter how appealing the food in question might be in theory. 

Hob both understood, and didn’t. He was always warm, something Morpheus deeply envied, even if he wouldn’t admit to it aloud. He too struggled, sometimes, with food, albeit in a much different way; the cupboards were often overfull before being carefully culled for in-date products to donate away, and he ate to uncomfortable excess on occasion, as if he forgot that there would be more for the foreseeable future.

There was also the question of fashioning a life out of nothing. Morpheus was dragged to a tiny shop in an out of the way street and photographed for a passport purchased in cash, along with all other relevant cards and certificates that made someone human. He was, with great effort, persuaded to allow the doctor with kind eyes who still made house calls to examine him, who pronounced him to be in fair health and left him with a number of pamphlets on proper nutrition. He came to know how to use a phone in practice, instead of merely in theory. 

But Hob couldn’t stay with Morpheus in the flat forever, and Morpheus threw himself into the process of becoming human. He spent long hours reading, books he once would have known simply by touching their spine, learned instead page by page and word by word. He slept more often than he thought an adult human might need, and he spent time submerged in the bathtub, topping up the hot water the second it began to grow tepid. He played music on Hob’s speakers, any album that Hob owned, and didn’t stop to think why he couldn’t bear to sit still without distraction. 

Because Morpheus was fine. He had been trapped in a human body in a glass cage for a century; being suddenly and irrevocably shoved into the same form, pieced back together lovingly by hands he could not bear to contemplate, was almost a familiar feeling. He had not felt hunger or thirst or pain in that prison, but to discover them for himself was not mind-breaking. He endured, and he allowed Hob to care for him, and he did not let himself be otherwise. 

But all things, as he came to know, must change. 

He was alone in the shop around the corner from Hob’s flat. In exactly seventy-four minutes, Hob would be home for tea, and they were, inexplicably, entirely out of jam, which meant that he could not have jam on toast for tea, and that was entirely unacceptable. 

To Hob’s unending surprise, Morpheus liked the shop, just as he liked the park at noon when all manner of people were milling about, and the pub of an evening when it was full and loud and bright. He did not want to speak with people, but he wanted to be within them, surrounded by them, the rise and fall of their voices, and Hob hadn’t asked him why. He had, instead, shown him a website dedicated to ambient noise, and told him that he could have the coffee shop in the flat all day if he wanted, if that was what he liked. 

Morpheus was standing in front of the shelves dedicated to all manner of spreads, contemplating the relative merits of strawberry (a known quantity, which he liked very much) or red currant (unknown, untested, but also free of any bits, which he disliked very much, and red, which was a promising color when it came to foods), when he reached for a jar to peer at it up close, and instead met the hand of the shopper beside him, who had crept up without his awareness and reached for the exact same jar at the exact same moment. 

He withdrew his hand, out of courtesy, and began to offer an apology as the woman beside him did the same, and neither of them kept hold of the jar, which fell, end over end, until it landed with a very final sounding smash at their feet. The woman stepped back with a small cry of alarm, and Morpheus stood, as if rooted to the very ground itself, and contemplated the slightly wobbling red mess in front of him. Vaguely, he was aware of the woman stepping to the end of the aisle to catch the attention of a shop worker, who would undoubtedly gather cleaning supplies and in fifteen minutes, it would be as if it had never happened at all. 

There was a scent, a cloying sweetness that rose from the shattered remains of the jam jar, a scent that Morpheus was unsure anyone else had noticed, or that was perhaps unique to him as he stood, still and unmoving, a buzzing in his ears, like the whine of a particularly persistent fly, and he moved his hand as if to shoo it away and clean up the mess besides only to blink and see—

Viscera, deep and red as rubies; he was walking through a field of carnage, each step staining him further, gore working its way over his feet to his ankles—why had they bled? they were never flesh and blood (but that was a lie, a lie he told himself again and again and again—they had been flesh and blood to him) and he was walking towards the end of all things, or maybe just the end of himself, and it was quiet, so quiet, an unearthly silence so vast that it nearly swallowed him whole and he felt it, a physical thing, the shattering of all that he was, all that he was ever meant to be, but it hurt less than he thought it might, and for a moment, just a moment, he thought it was over, the power gone, until—he had never felt so hollow, and he tried to reach out, to feel the warm familiarity of uncountable minds of his creation and those entirely independent of himself, human and creature alike, and found only an unending void, he had thought it quiet before but this, this was true nothingness, an abyss in which there was only him, and him alone and he was nothing, nothing, nothing at all—

“—all right, duck? Just a bit of jam on your boots and trousers, nothing that won’t wipe right off, I’m sure, and no staining to worry about, not with that very sensible black, hides a world of sin, doesn’t it?” 

The woman was standing near him, close enough to feel the warmth emanating from her, and once, he would have known her name. She was not touching him, only hovering a hand quite near him, as she continued, voice even more gentle. 

“Let’s just step to the side, and we can get out of everyone’s way while they clean up.” 

For one horrible, painful moment, he thought she might say more, might even offer to call someone for him, the look in her eyes well-meaning, but horribly perceptive. He could not bear to be seen. It was enough to jolt him into motion, and he nodded, somewhat stiffly, and moved away from the puddle of jam. The arrival of the shop worker, complete with cleaning supplies, distracted the woman long enough for Morpheus to enact his escape, abandoning any thoughts of tea or toast as he made his way, with single minded determination, back to the flat.

It was too quiet on his walk back, and it was too quiet inside the flat, the soft tick of the clock on the mantle and the gentle hum of the refrigerator not enough, never enough. Hob would be home in fifty-three minutes, and it was not enough. 

He burnt the paper in the sink, watching it crumble in on itself and smolder into ash, not knowing if it would even work, being as he was. Morpheus waited, hands gripping the cold porcelain of the sink, his knuckles nearly white enough to match. She would understand, his sister. She would know what it was like. She could tell him what to do, how to live, now, that he was apart from the only piece of himself that he had ever cared for, no matter how imperfectly he had done so. He could not abide being so terribly, horribly alone, with only the sound of his own voice in his head to keep him company. There was no consciousness within him, save for his own. 

Morpheus did not hear her enter the flat. She had always been so good at silence, slipping into spaces like smoke. Her hand, when she laid it over his own, was slightly clammy, and so painfully familiar that it made his chest ache. 

“Brother,” she said, and he tried to speak, to greet her in return, but found that he could not force the words past his lips. She would know, he thought, she would understand. 

She led him to the couch, pulling him to sit beside her, and Despair enfolded Morpheus in her arms. 

[xjulixred45x]

We need more Yandere females damn it. I hope I am not too late to ask. I can request for a Yandere Nobara drabbles wherein she drags reader around the shopping district dressing them up to her hearts content

YEEEESSSS NOBARA MY QUEEN!!

Yandere Nobara Kugisaki x Reader: Dress up Darling

Don't look at anyone in particular...don't talk to anyone too long...don't smile in public, don't talk in public...not until she arrives.

is what reader repeated to herself, while waiting for her "girlfriend" in one of the department stores that she frequented while she went to get them some food.

A part of her felt like she should be grateful for the time alone, since Nobara tended to be a bit...overwhelming whenever they got together for this type of date (shopping for clothes, thanks to Kugisaki's interest in fashion AND her partner. ) but reader knew better.

The only thing more deceptive than Nobara's carefree attitude was the false sense of security and freedom it gave.

reader was well aware of the darker side of her "partner", even without having done anything excessive, even without having hurt her, Nobara found ways to make her see the extremes she would go to to reach her...

including going after the people she loved.

Therefore, reader was forced to be the mediator, the one who brought peace, to the displeasure of her family and the joy of Nobara. She was as accommodating as possible with her to avoid incidents, but she also gave her opinion. She tried to give sweet and "romantic" gestures of her own but that were genuine to a certain extent.

and most importantly, she made it clear that she only had eyes for Nobara. nobody else. That way no one would get hurt. It was the best way to handle the situation.

and Nobara was obviously thrilled with this. It was the closest thing she had to a "normal" relationship with her beloved and she didn't even have to resort to more brutal methods. She was HAPPY with this.

To be honest, if Nobara had not shown this darker side of her, reader would have seriously considered getting involved with her.

There were good moments between them. Nobara was overwhelming, yes, but the constant attention and affection was something new and even...flattering to a certain extent.

These types of dates, the clothing ones, although they were also so that Nobara could dress her in nice clothes, also felt like a moment to feel good about herself, because Kugisaki showered her with compliments and nice words about how she looked. It made her feel...good in a way.

It was so strange, and sick.

-"Hey cutie! Did you see something you liked? We can go see it when you finish eating"-

Looking at things in retrospect, if no one said it, both of them just seemed like a couple of normal girlfriends rather than a stalker forcing her victim to be one. and sometimes that was the difficult part, pretending that it wasn't like that.

Nobara took the reader to eat in one of the corners of the square with fewer people and simply watched her eat (it seems like she already ate on the way to the store?) with a smile on her face. To Reader disconfort.

Once she finished, she began what, for Nobara, was the "real fun", dressing her up.

Nobara took her to the little store that reader had been "browsing" and picked out some clothes that she thought would look good on her "girlfriend" while reader did the same for Nobara. It was a part of this custom that always made reader nervous, because although Nobara was never angry with any of her choices, she was not as knowledgeable about fashion as Kugisaki, she was afraid of causing some bad moment.

Normally the outfits that Nobara chose for reader were pretty cute or pastel things, with the occasional urban touch, it wasn't what reader would normally wear, but she couldn't say that she didn't look good.

Every time Nobara saw her in a new outfit she would clap lightly while saying things like:

-"You look absolutely adorable!"- or -"You look beautiful baby!"- things like that.

and no matter how many times they had done this, reader was surprised at how Nobara seemed to genuinely like the clothing options she had chosen for her, even going so far as to wear them on later dates or give her kisses on the cheeks every time she gave her one...

At the end of the day, as usual, they ended up carrying more bags than they could carry, and Nobara called this friend of hers (Yuji?) to do it for her, threatening him that she would gouge out his eyes if he looked at reader or He dropped some of the items she bought for her.

At this point, reader did not know if it was a mere exaggeration between colleagues or a fortuitous threat.

She only knew that this relationship was more fucked up than she thought. Because everything wasn't so bad after all.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Fair warning, after this i'm gonna get some drabbles from HADES bc i got a new obsession. But this was real fun to write!

Thanks for the Request ❤️

[munsonthings86]

angels and demons

pairing: modern!eddie munson x fem!reader [also rockstar!eddie munson]

summary: who knew corroded coffin's eddie munson had a thing for his publicist's best friend? and who knew she felt the same way toward him?

warnings: "feminine" terms used, a bit of a slow burn, cursing, alcohol, marijuana, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, dirty smut, public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, praise, switch!eddie, switch!reader, no protection (use protection pls)

an: haven't written a fic in over four years but it's 2023 and this man still has a hold on me. so naturally, I decided to revamp and finish this fic that was collecting dust in my drafts. don't copy my shit seeing as it literally took me years to finish. minors dni. everyone else, enjoy.

wc: 11.6k [whoops]

Brushing through the ends of my hair, weeding out the remaining tangles, I kept my attention fixed on my close companion, Avery, as she yammered and rambled on, mainly pertaining to her exhilaration at her birthday ultimately making its arrival after enduring a seemingly endless year. 

Working as a well-trusted publicist (doubling as a musician in her downtime), she spent the better part of her days ensuring and upholding the positive reputation of some even the most questionable celebrities. 

Though she only entered the field due to her long-lived obsession with the enigmatic, fast-paced celebrity lifestyle, Avery had a deep desire to be the best at her job, rarely delegating time off to care for herself. This was the one time of the year she was free to loosen up, let her hair down, and be the wild spirit she truly was. 

She’d exhausted much of her time and patience into planning the celebration, ensuring that no detail was left overlooked. 

Perched beside me, she gently caressed a small makeup brush dusted with powder of a petal pink hue across her eyelid. She subconsciously bounced her leg high and low, and an obvious bearing of anxiety painted an unpleasant expression along her features. I soon took notice, resting a comforting hand against her shoulder. “Don’t be so nervous, everything will go as planned. We’ll have tons of fun,” I assured, offering a small smile. 

“Thanks, [Y/N]. I just always get nervous about these things. But, yes, we will have tons of fun. Especially you, baby,” she smirks at her own sneakiness. Avery quickly glances at me, throwing a side eye to observe my reaction. 

She’d been making sly comments since we’d begun getting ready together, about my impending enjoyment at the party. “Why do you keep doing that? Making those comments? You’re not telling me something, I can tell. You’ve been a bad liar since we were kids,” I reply, returning a face of suspicion. 

 “Me? Up to something? I don’t think so. Maybe you’re just reading into it too much.” Avery’s eyelids meet quickly before she sprays a mist of setting spray across the surface of her face, using a folding fan to dry her skin of any excess fluid. She runs her slender fingers through her highlighted locks, taking final looks at herself before leaving. 

Truthfully, it was nearing two hours since the party actually commenced, but with Avery being who she was, she felt as though being fashionably late was a complete must. 

And with me being her right hand, I was compelled to be unreasonably tardy with her. 

Avery and I strolled over to the full body mirror mounted on the bedroom’s door, gussying ourselves up, adjusting anything that seemed to be out of place with our appearances.

Avery had a monochromatic outfit of white; a white leather top adorned with a matching skirt covering very little of her body, with white thigh-high boots protecting most of her legs, and a pale lengthy jacket draping her shoulders. She occupied her hand with a small purse, throwing thin black shades over her eyes. 

I wore the same style of monochromacy, sporting a candy red velvet cropped tank top, with bellbottom pants of the same material and hue to match. Red chunky platform heels failed to cover much of my feet and my hair sat in place with the help of red hair pins as accessories. 

Avery chose the theme of her party to be ‘angels and demons’, urging her invitees to dress in either red or white, depending on which they wanted to be. 

She captures multiple pictures of us posing in the mirror for her social media to post later on into the night, avoiding a premature reveal of our outfits for those attending the party, who were still awaiting our arrival. “Come on, babes. Let’s not keep them waiting anymore,” she spoke after saving the images and shoving her phone into her purse. 

“You’re telling me,” I rolled my eyes, following her out the entrance. I tread behind Avery down the walkway of the house, carefully, considering my unfamiliarity with wearing heels. 

Entering the colossal, midnight-colored Cadillac Escapade Avery rented for the special night, we gave the incredibly patient chauffeur a signal to navigate us to the nightclub. The car slightly shakes after he turns the key in the ignition, switching on the engine. 

I wrap the material of the seatbelt around myself, securing my frame to the seat. Avery mimics my actions, peering at me with a sly grin, subsequently. “Oh my gosh, Avery, what are you hiding? You have that look on your face,” I spoke, staring at her doubtfully. 

An over-exaggerated expression of dismay morphs her features in reaction to my utterance. “Why do you keep thinking I’m hiding something from you? I’m just doing me,” she laughs, scrolling through her phone, before replying to a text. 

“Who’s that,” I ask jokingly, using my fingers to form imaginary binoculars around my eyes, slightly leaning closer. She hurriedly jerks her phone away, out of my sight. “See! I knew you were lying. I always know when you’re plotting something. Now tell me, what is it,” I asked, not letting up on my intense glare. 

“Fine, you caught me! But I’m still not saying a word. You’ll just have to find out when we get there,” she replies, maintaining secrecy. “I hate you,” I retort, shaking my head, starting to explore my phone as well. 

“Oh, trust me. You’ll be loving me in a minute,” she smiles a wide toothy grin, returning to her phone as I roll my eyes. 

The car ride to the hotspot was a rather brief one at the expense of Avery living not too far out from the city, where all the popular clubs of the area were based. Fans and tourists began to congest the streets, jumping in eagerness upon witnessing the immense luxury vehicle arrive. Nearly everyone had their phones glued to their hands, ready to snap pictures and record videos of the birthday girl’s emergence. 

The chauffeur was the first to exit the vehicle, unlocking the car door to the right, where I was seated, in order for Avery to crawl out behind me to create suspense.

The door opens as warm air noticeably invades the rather brisk draft in the vehicle, and I step out causing a majority of the crowd to hoot and holler due to their familiarity with me. I politely wave and smile at everyone, still not accustomed to the vast amount of attention I’d received. 

The screams of elation and adoration are nothing less than amplified when Avery appears, beaming from one ear to the other. She walks closer to the gathering, leaving them with hugs and kisses in thank you for their support. Meanwhile, I gave my best attempt in avoiding eye contact with the mob, as the bright lights from their cameras made it difficult for my eyes to focus. 

“Thank you for the birthday wishes, everyone,” Avery yelled for everyone to be able to hear, blowing kisses to the rest of the crowd who she didn’t have the opportunity to meet with. 

It was a mystery how this many people, who didn’t receive a formal invitation, discovered the location of Avery’s celebration, seeing as it was never disclosed on social media by either of us. Or anyone on the invite list, for that matter.

Avery always believed I was only teasing when I theorized that her supporters would excel being undercover detectives based on just how instantaneously they were able to piece things together, but maybe now she’d start actually believing it herself. 

I tapped Avery lightly, signaling to her that it was time for us to go inside. She says her final goodbyes to the sea of people outside, locking her arm through mine, the both of us striding inside the already electric building. 

[Eddie’s POV]

Gareth, my close friend, and I sat at the bar of the nightclub our publicist, Avery, invited us to, to celebrate her highly anticipated birthday. We, more so I, had ordered drinks to loosen ourselves up considering how apprehensive we normally became attending parties. If I was being utterly transparent, I’d admit that I was only accompanying Gareth along with the rest of Corroded Coffin, simply to meet Avery’s close friend, [Y/N]. 

Never was I capable of deciphering my infatuation with her, but that’s exactly what was drawing me closer to her. Her mystery, her nature, her mannerisms, her attitude, her body, was a drug in disguise and each time that I looked at or even thought about her, I became more addicted. And the only rehabilitation was to get my first dose.

I was aware of how improper it was to feel such emotions towards someone that I’d never formally met, but like I said, I’m incapable of controlling or explaining it. 

The sound of thunderous applause and shouts make it difficult for my thoughts to not be disrupted, somewhat making me displeased, but that was abruptly reformed into ample pleasure at the sight of her. My brain configured an illusion of everyone and everything in the room becoming blurry but keeping her so distinct, so clear. 

The way her hips moved with every step she took. The way her clothes clung onto her silky, glowing skin. Even the way she slightly bit her lip as she smiled. Everything about her was so enticing. 

My forearm jerked forward at the contact of Gareth’s elbow nudging mine, attaining my attention. Quickly glancing at him, then at the rest of the applauding attendees, I follow suit and cheer Avery on, but keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. She shyly smiled and waved at those who took the time to acknowledge her, letting Avery consume the spotlight. 

As she began closing the distance between us, greeting those around her, her eyes met my brown ones before I felt a rush of heat proliferate within me. She seemed to have been staggered upon noticing my presence, but my subconscious gave the impression to be ignorant to it, as I sensed the tension in my body heighten. 

She looked frantic as she stumbled her way back to Avery’s side, agitatedly whispering in her ear about what seemed to be my attendance. Her fingers moved analogous to that she was playing a piano that wasn’t there, a nervous tendency I’d observed she had. Avery scanned her eyes across the herd of people in my proximity until her pupils landed on me before a smirk crept onto her face in satisfaction. 

She messaged me earlier, nearly begging me to attend the party, to which I denied on multiple occasions. Upon putting full thought on the subject, I inquired about [Y/N]’s possible appearance, deciding that I’d only go if she would as well. And already, before the night has even had the chance to begin, I was enjoying myself. 

“You’ve got to stop looking at her like that, Eddie,” Gareth commented, shaking his head, almost disappointedly at me. I softly chuckled at him and took another swig of the beer in the glass cup before replying. “Looking at her like what?”

He returns my questions with a knowing look, “Like you want to eat her.”

“I kinda do.”

[Y/N]’s POV]

A sudden wave of uneasiness washes over me, as butterflies in my stomach began to flutter about, upon my eyes meeting his own. Only Avery knew of my slight obsession with him and taking into consideration just how much Eddie was reluctant to attend parties, I conspired that this had to have been Avery’s doing. I stumbled my way over to her side, pulling her closer to me to avoid bystanders possibly eavesdropping. 

“Avery, why is Eddie Munson here? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it? You said none of your clients were gonna be here,” I whispered, agitatedly. 

Her eyes scanned through the cluster of people in our area, until they landed on Eddie, a smirk crawling its way onto her face. My fingers wiggle about, as it was a nervous mannerism of mine before I used them to poke Avery to get her to stop drawing Eddie’s attention our way, though I seemed to be doing that all on my own. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed his attentiveness shift to his bandmate who’d begun conversing with him.

“Oh, come on, don’t act mad. You’ve been practically obsessed with him for so long now. Even before he became one of my clients. This may seem bad to you, but trust me, this is a blessing in disguise. Actually, it isn’t in disguise at all, I mean do you see him? That man is so pretty. You better get him before I do,” Avery teased, taking a sip of whatever drink it was she had in her cup. 

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed way better,” I said, wistfully, lowering my eyes to my feet. 

“Girl, you look amazing. With you looking like that, he’ll be all over you tonight,” she winked at me before her eyes grew wide. “Alright, be cool. He’s coming over here.” 

“Bitch, what,” I whispered forcefully as full-fledged panic invaded my body, running from my head down to my painted toes. Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on my pants, I let out a short breath, giving Avery a nervous smile, turning to meet Eddie. 

Words escape my brain as I nearly bump into him, drunk partygoers’ uncoordinated stumbling along to the loud music nudging our bodies closer together. His warm, glossy brown eyes bore into mine, eyelids low from what I presume is caused by marijuana and alcohol intoxication. His wild curly hair drapes over his shoulders, perfectly framing his face as he stares at me, lips slightly parted. Fiddling with the bulky silver rings consuming his fingers, which I soon become distracted by, he flashes a smile, extending a friendly hand. 

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” his calloused fingers softly scratch against mine as he shakes my hand. “You must be [Y/N].” I furrow my eyebrows, perplexed as to how he knew my name and general existence. I was more than aware of the fact that Eddie had a dislike for social media and had no known public accounts; information that I later thanked Avery for acquiring. Unless Avery had been in Eddie’s ear acting as my wing-woman, there really was no other explanation as to how he knew of me. 

Looking back at Avery tight-lipped, knowing that my theory of her attempting to play cupid was not just merely suspicions but instead reality, she shrugs, smiling before taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah,” I awkwardly smile, dusting my hands off on my clothes.

Normally, conversation came easily to me. Rarely did I ever find myself speechless. But with Eddie standing inches away from me, wavy bangs curtaining his eyes, red leather jacket thrown over a white shirt that left his happy trail exposed, and a prodigious belt holding up tight black pants that left little to the imagination, it was practically impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence. 

My eyes trail from his doe eyes to the short stubble growing on his chin, down to the pearl necklace clasped firmly around his slender neck along with several other lower hanging silver necklaces, one that held a black guitar pick with white lettering, ‘CC’. Corroded Coffin, I presume. There, a conversation starter. “You play for Corroded Coffin, right?”

“Yeah, for my whole life basically. Feels like yesterday we were playing for our middle school talent show. I play lead guitar, sing a few of our songs,” he smiles, crossing his arms across his chest. I know, trust me I know is what I’m desperate to say. I definitely was not ignorant of Eddie or his talents. 

“I’ve heard some of you guys’ music before. Good stuff. Great stuff,” I blink, evading eye contact as if Eddie was Medusa himself. Truthfully, that’s who he might as well be. The moment my eyes meet his, I’ll freeze, forgetting how to function, essentially turning into stone. 

From what the corner of my eye is able to make out, Eddie’s features only brighten at my compliment, yelling over the music, “Thanks, I didn’t take you for a metalhead.” 

“Oh, yeah. You know. Big fan,” I mentally slap my forehead, wanting needing nothing more than to be put out of my misery. God, could I be more awkward? I need a drink. ASAP. 

My body is now at the mercy of the crowd, the tempo of the music increasing, causing everyone to pick up their pace as well, shoving whoever wasn’t dancing out of the way. A visible look of frustration and discomfort contorts my face, the dead middle of the dance floor being my least favorite spot at parties. 

“Hey, do you wanna come meet the guys? It’s a little quieter in our section,” Eddie points over to the lounge area, recognizing my distress at the position I found myself in. I peer over my shoulder towards Avery who I notice has wandered off to greet some of her guests. Closing my eyes, I muster up the courage to accept his offer before turning to face him again. 

“Sure.”

He smiles contentedly, extending his hand once again, though this time, it’s not for me to shake. It’s to hold as he navigates us through the busy crowd. Though I hesitate at first only because I know my hands are sweaty, I lay my hand in his own. It’s a warm and firm grip, a safe and almost familiar feeling, like a good hug on a bad day. Sweaty bodies crash into ours as we cut through the mob, the sight of the lounge looking like a haven in this chaotic atmosphere. 

“Boys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N] meet Gareth our drummer, Jeff, electric guitarist, and Grant, he plays electric bass,” Eddie points them out, leading me up the stairs to the seating area, security guards lining the perimeter. 

Politely waving at the men who were either busy rolling blunts or sipping their drinks, I smile, mildly starstruck, “Hi. I was telling Eddie I’m a fan of you guys’ music.” 

Mumbles of gratitude are barely heard over the thumping music but nonetheless well received. Already nervous with Eddie’s presence alone, I was predominantly satisfied that his bandmates were too intoxicated to conduct a conversation themselves. 

Perching on the black, plush sectional couch, I cross my legs as Eddie plops himself down next to me, our knees slightly grazing each other. 

[Eddie’s POV]

The bare skin of my knee peeking out from my ripped jeans kisses the soft velvet material of the flared pants perfectly hugging her legs. The accidental touch somehow creates more tension in my body, if that were even possible. Clouds of smoke from the multiple joints going in rotation fill the air, blurring her features as the vapor crawls its way in our direction, causing me to slightly frown. 

I wave a hand, banishing the smoke from near her before speaking, “Sorry about that. My bandmates seem to forget their manners when we’re out.” A disapproving side eye is all I throw their way prior to diverting my gaze back to her as she lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips relieved that my uncouth friends weren’t a bother to her. Running my hands over my knees, I watch the lights from the oscillating ceiling lamps ghost over her, illuminating her delicate skin. 

She surveyed the party, eyes smiling from her cheeks once she spotted her friend dancing wildly near the bar where I previously sat. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks with each slow blink she made, pupils lit brighter than any light in the room. While watching Avery enjoy herself, her plump, glossed lips were caught in a wide, unfaltering smile that made my chest tight. She was truly beautiful. 

Catching myself staring at her, shamelessly indulging in her unfair beauty, I quickly lick my lips upon finding that they’ve run dry. “She talks about you a lot, you know. Avery,” I nod my head back in her direction, keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. 

“Yeah?” she questions, shifting her warm gaze back to me; a gaze so warm it makes me melt. I furrow my eyebrows, grinning, “Hell yeah! She’s like a proud mom showin’ off her kids’ art projects. Has pictures of you two in her office and everything.” 

[Y/N] glances down at her feet, a shy yet amused expression pulling at her visage. “Does that surprise you?” 

"No,” she responds, shaking her head hurriedly. “I mean, I guess it doesn’t. We’ve been friends for what feels like forever. We’re sisters, basically, attached at the hip.” I chuckle, recalling Avery saying something very similar to that in the text messages she sent earlier. 

She’s my sister, Munson. If you mess this up, that’ll be the end of you. 

Sitting so close to [Y/N] now, listening to her talk, breathing in her fruity perfume that purified the air every time she made the slightest movement, I’ll do everything in my power to not mess this up. I’ll be damned if I do. 

“Do you have someone like that?” she asks, carefully adjusting her body to properly face me. Following suit, I rest my elbow on the back of the couch, anchoring my leg in the space between us, clasping my fingers. “Uh,” I begin, poking my cheek with my tongue, beginning to laugh. 

“There’s this kid, met him in high school. Total butthead,” I chuckle, toying with my rings. 

“His name’s Dustin, we played a lot of D&D together. Since I’ve kinda had to move around with the band in recent years and he’s in his second year of college, we haven’t been able to hang out like we used to. But I always joke that he’s basically my kid. He actually called me a few nights ago asking me and the guys to come perform at his school.” 

Listening attentively, she raises her eyebrows, “Yeah? Are you gonna do it?” 

“I actually told him no, just to mess with him,” I joke, earning a laugh from her, the sound filling my ears and body with great fervor. Cute laugh. “But yeah, I’m definitely gonna do it, try to surprise him or somethin’.”

“That’s great,” she smiles. “Sounds like you two are close. It must be hard not being able to be with some of your friends and having to tour constantly, but I’m sure there are upsides.” 

“Oh yeah, definitely. Ever since I picked up a guitar for the first time, I knew that just playing music every night in front of thousands of people was what I wanted to do,” I reply happily, finally being able to talk about my passion and those who were important to me with someone I was interested in. 

Being in the limelight, it was too easy to get used to groupies and opportunists who weren’t truly interested in who I was as a person. All it ever felt like was what pleasure could I bring to them. What they could take advantage of. How they could manipulate me. [Y/N] was the breath of fresh air I’ve been craving in this polluted Hollywood lifestyle. 

“Now your dream's a reality,” she reassures. 

“That it is. Now tell me about you; I heard you’re a fashion designer,” I poke at her arm, beaming down at her. Her cheeks flush as she breaks eye contact, pulling at the fabric of her clothes. 

“I’d hardly call it that. I just make and sell clothes for whoever’s crazy enough to buy them,” she chuckles shyly. Stray hairs find asylum against the skin of her cheek, and I have to fight the urge to tuck them away. They almost distract me before she continues. 

“It took me forever just to make Avery and I’s outfits for tonight. Had it been someone else asking me to design it, I probably would have given up. Donatella Versace, Christian Dior- they are fashion designers. And I am not them.” A rather serious expression calls for my face to distort. 

“Hey, go easy. Comparing yourself to people has never worked out well for anyone. I haven’t known you for more than an hour but I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I mean, the proof is there,” I point at her. “If you’re serious about making the outfits, you did a damn good job.” 

“Yeah?” she smiles. 

“Definitely. I mean, I dig the all red. You look like a little Hellfire demon,” I bite my lip, surprising myself with how loud I was talking, as Grant and Jeff laugh knowingly. 

However, [Y/N] remained adorably clueless, “What’s Hellfire?” 

“Eh, another story for another day. But I’m serious. I might have to hire you to design some of our threads for our gigs coming up. Lord knows these fashionistas need your help,” I laugh, mumbling the last bit to her, causing the sweetest giggle to pass her lips. Cute laugh. 

“Cute laugh,” my brain thinks, and my lips speak all at once. The filter between thought and actual verbalization had come crashing down in that very moment, unapologetically. 

I curse myself mentally, afraid that she’d think I was being too forward, though I’d be in no position to blame her if she did. Much to my surprise, like earlier, her smile is unfaltering as she responds, “You think so?”

I return that same smile, nodding, eyes squinted in delight, “Cute everything.” 

[Y/N’s POV]

Just like that, I’m sure my face is as red, if not, even redder than a tomato. Eddie was not at all what I thought he’d be. 

With him being a well-known rockstar whose popularity was only increasing by the minute, I had no reservations he’d be an egotistical nightmare, expecting everything and everyone to fall at his feet. Surprisingly he’s done nothing but be agonizingly sweet and a perfect gentleman, adding to his attractiveness. 

Constantly dealing with arrogant people who were famous, or worse, thought they were famous, had led to some degree of emotional damage. Eddie was refreshing. 

“Thanks,” I hum, trapping a small part of my bottom lip between my teeth, once again avoiding eye contact at all costs. The little bit of courage I’d built up over the course of our conversation crumbled at his compliment, words ultimately escaping me though many thoughts were circulating in my mind haphazardly. 

I’m again at his mercy, silently begging him to stop being so alluring but also needing him to continue doing just that. 

Before I realize I’m sitting silently, deep in thought, Eddie chimes in, “You doin’ alright there, princess?” 

God. Why’d you have to say that? 

Princess. I could practically feel my features soften at the term of endearment, the name sounding so heavenly and warm falling from Eddie’s lips. I shamelessly yearn to hear him say it again. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m glad you like the red.” 

“Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice you chose to go as a devil tonight,” he smirks, eyes scanning over my body. “Didn’t take you as anything other than angelic.” I’m not sure if it’s a pickup line, but it does a well enough job of sparking the tiniest bit of bravery in me. “I’m full of surprises,” returning his smirk, I gesture to his clothes. 

“But I see you have on red and white.” 

“Oh, would you look at that,” he teases, lifting the sides of his jacket, examining his attire. The action lures my eyes to fixate on his toned stomach, the white shirt that appeared to be cut with a pair of scissors hid much of his chest but little of his lower torso. 

Eddie wasn’t ripped, as he played guitar for a living. He didn’t have a six-pack or a chiseled ‘v’ line, but his stomach was rather firm and tight, sprinkled with small tattoos. 

“Can’t be both an angel and a devil,” I resume. 

“No?” 

“Nope. So, which one are you?” I implore, crossing my arms. He leans in impossibly closer, his breath, an aroma of beer and spearmint, fans the shell of my ear, “You’ll just have to find out, won't you?” He returns his head to its original position, sending a devilish grin my way, precious dimples making the loveliest indentations on his face. 

With my lips fallen open, goosebumps erupt along my arms and neck at his suggestive comment. He seems to take notice of the way my body reacts to cheekiness; the charming smirk plastered on his face triggers the butterflies in my stomach. Was Eddie Munson flirting with me? Or is he this flirtatious with everyone he came in contact with? 

Deep in the unruly mob, I spot Avery shoving through drunk and high individuals, some being both, gravitating towards the bar presumably to get herself another shot of her favorite liquor. A light bulb goes off in my mind. 

“I’m gonna take a shot with the birthday girl. Do you want anything from the bar?” I ask, uncrossing my legs. 

“I should be the one buying you drinks, don't you think? Chivalry isn’t quite dead yet,” Eddie retorts, leaning over in his seat to reach the glass table before us. He grabs rolling papers along with a grinder for his weed, beginning to roll himself a spliff. 

Rising from the couch, I laugh, beginning to descend the stairs leading to the main level, “Like I said, full of surprises. Besides I get free drinks tonight, being the birthday girl’s best friend and all.” 

Elbows resting on his knees, he hides the tip of the joint between his lips before igniting the other end with a chrome vintage lighter, seemingly engraved with his initials. It’s an effortless yet immensely captivating action, his eyebrows pulled together as he takes a slow pull. It takes everything in me to defeat the temptation to throw myself at him. 

“Well, aren't you a lucky girl,” he exhales, a trail of smoke escaping his lips. 

“So, what do you say? Drink? No drink?” 

“Nah, I’m alright, sweetheart. Don’t be gone too long,” he jokes, dusting off the building-up ash on his joint. Out of courtesy, he passes it to Jeff who blindly accepts. 

“Why? You gonna miss me?” I smirk, heels landing on the final step before strolling to where the alcohol resides. “Somethin’ like that,” he mutters under his breath, though Gareth hears this, snickering at how smitten his bandmate was. 

“Let me get a double shot of tequila,” I hear Avery yell over the bassy dance music thumping through the speakers. The bartender gives her a stiff nod, placing a large shot glass in front of her. 

“Make that two shots,” I add, sitting down next to her as she turns to face me. Her eyes grow wide as she anticipates all the gossip I have to offer. She looks over to where Eddie is sat, though she quickly diverts her eyes back to me, to which I assume is due to him already looking in our direction. 

I open my mouth, ready to unload everything that’s been said between me and Eddie during the time that’s elapsed. She stops me momentarily, however, picking up the tequila-harboring glasses that the bartender left for our indulgence. 

Throwing my head back, the alcohol burns the back of my throat to which I make a face as I’m not that much of a drinker. Avery on the other hand, takes the shot like a pro, barely flinching as she swallows, “Alright, hit me.” 

“Where do I begin?” I sigh, smiling nervously, “I mean, I don’t know, he seems sweet. Definitely not an asshole like some guys I’ve met, that’s for sure. I just can’t tell if he’s flirting with me because he likes me or if he’s flirting because that’s how he makes conversation.” 

“Well, he doesn’t flirt with me. I can tell you that much,” she counters, raising a hand, signaling for another drink. 

“That’s different, you’re his publicist,” I frown, swinging my legs that dangled from the stool I was perched on. The people I found myself dating in the past few months were either draining or deceitful, some a distasteful mixture of both and then some. I couldn’t imagine that a famous rockstar with the world at his fingertips was interested in me. 

Letting out a lingering sigh, Avery slides another shot my way, some alcohol flying out the glass and crashing onto the wood. She places both of her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. 

I know she’s reading my mind, so easily being able to tell that insecurities were invading my brain, stopping me from going after something I wanted. “Listen, I’ve been in every setting imaginable with that guy, okay? And I’ve never seen him smile as much as he has while talking with you. He likes you. You like him. Now take that shot and let’s go dance.” 

Her sentiment draws my lips into a smile. She was truly my cheerleader whenever I needed the motivation. Furrowing my brows, I down my second shot, the warmth scattering through my chest. “Go dance? Shouldn’t I get back to Eddie?” I ask, silently thanking the bartender as I stand up. 

“You’ll reunite with your man soon, don’t worry. He’s been staring at you since you got over here. Let’s give him a show, yeah?” she smirks devilishly, wiping the dripping liquor from her pigmented lips. Catching her drift, I nod, grabbing her hand as I walk us to the dance floor. 

At the sight of Avery, people make room for us to migrate freely, as we find a comfortable, open spot to park ourselves and begin grooving to the music. Letting go of Avery’s hand, I move my head, slowly starting to feel the music. The warmth in my chest from the consecutive shots loosens my body, elevating my confidence. 

Though I tended to be a wallflower at parties, dancing with my best friend, liquid courage flowing through me, and oh-so-enticing Eddie Munson eyeing me, I’ve never felt more inclined to become possessed by the rhythm. 

The beat flows down into my shoulders as they begin to subconsciously move side to side, my hips following suit. I close my eyes, completely wallowing in the melody of the song blaring through the amplifiers. 

Give him a show. Avery’s words loiter in my head as I run my hands along my sides until they’re in the air, minds of their own. My body sways smoothly similar to a snake slithering its way to its prey. In this moment, Eddie Munson was my prey. 

I spin around, carefully, as I’m tipsy and in five-inch heels. Believe me, I would’ve chosen better shoes had I known that I’d be in this position, dancing my little heart out. Bodies collide with mine as everyone’s movements become wilder, the song transitioning to one of a higher pace. 

My hips compliment the music, rocking steadily before I feel someone else’s hip press against mine. I don’t even have to turn around before I know who it is; the satisfied look on Avery's face and the feeling of long, soft hair pressing against my skin serves as a good enough clue. 

“Miss me already?” my hips don’t stop moving, if anything, their movements deepen, grinding against him. 

“Hi angel,” he responds, the scent of the weed he just smoked staining his clothes. His hands rest just above my waist, testing the waters. Feeling the music too, he follows my rhythm swaying behind me. 

“No, I’m a devil, remember? See,” I point to my ensemble. “Hellfire demon,” I recall, giggling. 

He chuckles, amused, as his hands lower. I feel something firm prodding at the curve of my backside, the tightness of Eddie’s jeans not doing much to conceal his arousal. “You are right about one thing. You, little missy, are full of surprises.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods slowly, resting his head on my shoulder, craning his neck to look into my eyes, weakening my knees. Though the lighting in the club is borderline nonexistent, Eddie’s eyes were close enough to mine that I could see his pupils were blown, eyes dark with desire. 

“You got any surprises for me?” I turn around to face him, immediately missing the way his hips felt against mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hair blanket my hands, he bites his lip, grinning before speaking. “A few.” 

“Show me,” the smile on my face drops, the need to be alone with him becoming overwhelming. The alcohol running through my veins did nothing to steady my increasing heart rate. The heat that was once in my chest traveled down between my thighs, as the arousal that Eddie was experiencing was more than reciprocated. 

Instead of a verbal response, his hands trail up my arm to my hand as he grasps it, pulling me to where the bathrooms were. I look back at Avery to alert her that I’d be gone for a bit, though she’s already well aware, giving me a thumbs up and sending me a wink. 

The hallways leading to the bathroom are lit brighter than any other area in the club, causing me to squint my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. The floors are a shiny, coal-black tile with walls of the same color, covered with intricate designs and patterns. 

“Shit,” he pauses, hitting a fork in the road. 

“What?” 

“Which one should we go in?” he asks, gesturing between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, stumped. Rolling my eyes and letting out a small chuckle, I push open the door to the women’s bathroom, expecting that it’s cleaner than the men's bathroom, which was almost always the case in any public establishment. 

Eddie follows closely behind me, shoving the door shut subsequently. His sneakers squeak against the tile floor as he hurriedly grips my waist, hoisting me onto the edge of the sink. It’s wet to the touch from people drunkenly washing their hands not too long ago, but I’m too captivated in the scene moment care. Flinging my arms around Eddie’s neck, ready to crash my lips against his own, he pulls away faintly. 

“Wait. Are you sure you wanna do this? I know you had a bit to drink,” he mentions, resting his hands on either side of me. His forehead is almost pressed against mine as my thumb strokes at the nape of his neck, at which his eyes flutter closed. 

Beaming up at him, I sweep his hair out of his face and over his shoulder. He allows my hand to linger on his cheek as I speak, “I promise, I’m okay. I’m a little tipsy, but I swear I want this. I want you.” 

I have for a while now is what my mouth wants to add as some sort of cherry on top, but not even the tequila or the heat of the moment could pull that out of me. 

I didn’t want to admit to Eddie that the thought of him had been wandering in my mind since I’d randomly come across his music about a few years ago. He had to deal with overzealous, obsessive fans on a regular basis and I didn't want to give him the impression that I was no different from them. 

“Do you wanna do this?” I whisper, lightly scratching at his scalp under my fingertips. He breathes out before fully allowing his forehead to fall onto mine. 

He finally opens his eyes, the gates of his eyelids slowly unveiling the tender and sultry pool of chocolate brown. “Of course, I do, I just wanna make sure you really want this,” he sighs as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Eyes lowering, I notice Eddie’s lips are chapped. Not the kind of chapped that was uninviting and distasteful. The kind of chapped that was endearing; the kind that made me want to do nothing more than to wet them with my own. 

“I do,” I mumble against his mouth hurriedly, before drawing his head towards mine, our lips colliding. Eddie doesn’t hesitate, attacking my puckered lips with his ravenous ones. His head moves wildly, repeatedly switching sides to devour my lips from all angles, almost making it hard to keep up with him. My fingers get tangled in his jungle of hair while his tongue begins to nudge at mine. 

As our hands begin to mindlessly explore each other’s chests and stomachs, quiet moans escape our throats. My heels dig further into the back of Eddie’s thighs as his warm hands settle onto my neck, lightly squeezing. 

A deep groan rumbles from his chest at my hand snaking down his body, fingers dangerously lingering by his belt buckle. Much to my dismay, his lips abandon mine that are still starved, however, my disappointment is short-lived, as he peppers kisses along my cheek, venturing down to my neck. “You wanna know somethin’?” he mutters onto my skin, hand nor lips leaving the pulsing area. 

“What?” I sigh, as he begins gently tugging at the skin with his teeth, wrapping his lips around it shortly after. “You were turning me on so much dancing out there like that,” he answers, voice low. 

He kisses me again, this time with slow and calculated movements. His lips are still eager as are mine, but his actions are more sensual this time. More passionate. I take the risk, lowering my fingers to his growing erection if it could even grow any more-- how big it was. Responding just the way I wanted him to, he moans into my mouth, slightly grinding his hips into my hand. “Yeah?” I whisper, breathlessly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, slowly nodding his head while running his hands up and down my legs, kindling small shocks through me. His touch was so simple but so intimate, paying attention to every curve and crevice that made up my body. The beautiful sounds of pleasure leaving his glossy lips egg me on, encouraging me to speed up the work my hand was giving him. “Turning me on so much now,” he finishes, dropping his head back in rapture. 

Like a moth to a flame, I take advantage of the opportunity to sprinkle both small, soft pecks and heated, open-mouth kisses along one of the many prominent veins decorating his neck. His body reacts instinctively, as he groans, beginning to trace along the waistband of my pants. As if his body was a magnet, my hips chase him at the ticklish sensation, begging for some sort of relief. 

Feeling his erection throbbing in his jeans, my hands yank at his belt unapprovingly. I give his neck a break from my lips only to look down at his waist, desperately trying to free him from the constraints. His nose bumps mine harshly when he chases my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth. 

Undoing the latch, he gets bored of walking the tightrope of my waistband, ultimately hooking his fingers over my pants, pulling them down to my ankles and over my heels. Goosebumps disrupt the smoothness of my skin as the crisp air filling the bathroom settles onto my bare legs. His belt falls with a soft clank, my discarded pants being a cushion for its soft landing. 

He smirks, amused at my black lace underwear, running a curious finger along the slit of my heat. It’s such a gentle, almost ghost-like touch that I would’ve missed had I not been intently watching him the way I was now. Unbuttoning and lowering the zipper to his pants, I grab him by one of the many loops along the waist of his pants, forcing his hips against mine.

Tightening my legs that clung together just below his torso, I grind my pelvis onto his erection, begging for some sort of friction. 

“Such a dirty fucking girl,” he smiles, hands blanketing my ass, guiding my hips that were shamelessly helping me relieve the tension I felt in my body. My moans are hard to suppress as his eyes don’t leave mine, mumbling quiet coaxes. 

“God, I can feel how wet you are,” he groans, “need to taste you, princess.” After I whisper a soft “please”, he stops my hips in place, ridding my needy core of my underwear, nearly tearing the flimsy fabric.

Freeing himself from the restraints of my legs, he kneels down, eyes meeting the place I needed him most. He wraps his strong arms around my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. I can feel his hair tickling my inner thighs as he bites his lips hungrily, adjusting himself between my legs. 

My fingers find his scalp and tug lightly on the roots of his tresses when he starts planting quick pecks around my heat, teasing me. “I love how wet you are for me. Can’t wait to taste that pretty fucking pussy,” he smiles, eyes never leaving my sex. He wets his lips one more time until his eyes rest on mine, licking a solid stripe along the slit of my entrance. 

Pulling harder at his hair at the sudden sensation, I let out a loud moan as my eyes screwed shut. His tongue easily finds my clit, gently teasing and sucking at the small bud. With the way he squeezes tighter on my thighs, securing me in place, I’m sure bruises are to be left behind. I don’t mind though as I knew it would serve as a visual reminder of the way he could make me feel with only his tongue. 

As his movements against my clit begin to quicken, my thighs begin shaking and my moans are nothing but intensified. In any other given situation, I’d be more cautious of bystanders who had to listen to my sounds of pleasure, but with the breathtaking feeling of Eddie’s wet tongue devouring all of my most sensitive spots, it was incredibly hard to think straight. 

He pushes my legs back against my chest wanting to get a better angle at me. He nearly dedicates his entire face to pleasuring my core, nose poking at my clit, while his lips and tongue flick at my pussy. The only part of his face he leaves for my eyes to feast upon are his brown-turned-black lust-filled pupils. I yearn to keep our eyes connected but it's damn near impossible with the feeling of a knot building up in my stomach. 

“That feel good princess?” I nod my head urgently, feeling the vibrations from his speaking tickling my clit. I want to speak so that he could hear just how good he was making me feel, but I figure my moans could suffice. He smirks once I whine at his lips leaving my wetness.

His fingers replace where his mouth once was, rubbing slow circles along my clit, watching my face morph back into one of complete ecstasy. He trails his digits down to my hole, slipping them in without warning. 

As my thighs squeeze around his head as he repeatedly hits my G-spot with curled fingers, pushing me further to the edge. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie are the only words my lips are able to utter. His rings are cold but gradually warming up as he fucks me deep with his fingers. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he snickers, upon feeling my walls clenching around his fingers. 

“Yes, yes. Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” I beg, sensing the amount of pleasure I'm able to take being at its peak. He watches me intently as he slows his fingers down, leisurely dragging them from out of me. Frustrated, I drop my head back against the mirror, letting out a heavy sigh. I let go of his hair as he rises from the tiled ground, smiling apologetically, yet, mischievously at me. 

“I know, baby, I know. But I promise,” he kneads my thighs, pressing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his lips. “I’m gonna take such good care of you,” he finishes, bringing his arousal-soaked fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. 

Momentarily, my eyes fixate on the bathroom door that was carelessly unlocked, not much of a barrier between this impromptu dalliance and the unsuspecting clubgoers just a few feet away. Had it not been for the thumping music blaring from the speakers, people within a mile radius would have been able to detect my needy whimpers. 

I’m not too Eddie-drunk for it to click in my head that a person of Eddie’s status being caught in a moment like this could instantly be plastered on the internet and every news blog. If it were just me and some random guy, anyone would just turn heel and carry on, but Eddie being who he was, it wasn’t immediately obvious whether to take the risk or not. “Someone could see us,” I point with a limp finger, body still weak from being on the verge of release. 

Content with just how easy it was to practically ruin me with only his mouth and fingers, he grins before uttering, “I know. I don’t care. If I have to be seen like this, I wanna be seen like this with you.” 

A rush of heat goes to my cheeks at his words that seem genuine. I was accustomed to guys saying whatever they believed I wanted to hear just to get something they wanted out of me. But there was something so different about Eddie. His eyes glimmered with a golden light of sincerity and awe that even the darkest parts of my cynical heart couldn’t help but be illuminated by. 

“I can stop if you really-” 

Hooking my arm around his neck, I pull his head down to press my puckered lips against his own that were still mid-sentence. He couldn’t be more alluring like this. Being the perfect gentleman, easing the worries floating in my head, and treating me so well, was just the icing on the cake that was his personality and looks. Right now, the one thing on my mind was to treat him just as good. 

My hands rush to push his pants down and over his erection, leaving merely his ankles to be clothed by the black denim. His print is so obvious, so taunting that it leads me to palm his hard-on through his deliciously tight boxers, moaning into our passionate kiss as I feel how big he is.

His cock twitches at my fingers grazing over the covered skin of his tip which also lures a hearty groan out of Eddie’s lips. A dull cloud passes Eddie’s pupils as the golden light previously lighting up his eye dims, and he becomes blinded by a dark hue of lust. 

His arms work to rid themselves of his form-fitting leather jacket, letting it to the floor thoughtlessly, his shirt follows soon after. Hiking up my small crop top, his hands waste no time in cupping my breasts, perfectly squeezing and massaging its flesh. An amused expression befalls my flushed face at the way his moans and grunts of pleasure fall so heavily from his lips as my hand steadily rubs long, slow strokes at his length. 

“Oh, you like teasing me, huh?”  

Letting out a small laugh, I nod, responding, “Yeah.” His mouth latching onto one of my nipples interrupts me, my breath hitching in my throat at the sudden contact. “Turns me on s-so much hearing you moan like that,” I manage to choke out while two of his fingers toy with my lonely nipple that couldn’t yet feel the wonders of his tongue. 

“Yeah?” he takes my hands, placing them over my head and against the mirror, using his free hand to tug his boxers down. He groans, cock no longer being restricted by his underwear, and it's only then I notice the precum threatening to spill from his tip. It requires an immense amount of self-control to not reach down and spread it over the smoothness of his tip and shaft, but I manage. 

“I want you so bad, princess. Fuck,” he mumbles, taking a hold of himself to tap against my clit. My entrance begins to throb as if it could sense Eddie was near, so close to stretching me in all the best ways. “You want my cock to fill up your slutty little pussy?” 

I shake my head a desperate yes, whimpering. Snaking my legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him right into me, he clicks his tongue, tilting his head disapprovingly. “I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to hear you say it. Tell me you want my cock to stretch you so good until you can’t think of anything except me and what my cock is doin’ to you,” he drawls slipping only his tip inside of me, but just as fast as it enters, is just how fast it’s gone again.

He does this repeatedly as he patiently waits for my mind and lips to conjure something up. 

With the way the snarky grin tugging on his lips was unwavering, I could tell he got a rise out of teasing me. There was a way his voice deepened when he spoke such untamed things. A way his usual pleasant expression turned to that of a stoic one. It was such a stark difference from what I’d seen of his normal personality. This side of Eddie was just another side I was more than excited to explore and indulge in.

“Please, Eddie. I want you s-so bad. Want your cock inside me. Please, I wanna cum all over that cock. Pl-”

My mouth is still rambling, begging Eddie for some degree of relief before the words soon melt into loud whines of satisfaction at Eddie finally slipping into me fully, in all his length and girth glory. Eddie’s mouth falls open as his breath catches in his throat, feeling his cock slide in with ease. He traps his tongue in between his teeth hoping to conceal his moans but that ultimately fails him as I clench around him, inviting him in. 

Groaning, he rests his forehead against mine, never letting his eyes depart from mine that were struggling to stay open. He sighs, shaking his head before breathing out, “God, you’re so fucking wet, I just slip right in. Such a good little whore for me.” 

I let out a moan, though I’m not sure whether it was from his words or the slow, yet hard thrusts he was giving me. Nonetheless, it felt too good to keep quiet. Eddie takes his time with his movements, unhurriedly dragging his length out of my warmth before slamming his pelvis back into mine. It was toe-curling.

Above me, Eddie was babbling a string of curse words, tattoo-adorned chest heaving.

Each drive made his muscles flex, evoking the pads of my fingers to trace his freckled skin. Beads of sweat began to build a film on our skin, but as we kept bumping and rubbing and caressing, it grew difficult to tell whether it was my sweat or his making my skin slick. 

He traps one of my nipples between his teeth, delicately nibbling and sucking on the sensitive bud. I cup his head firmly against my chest as my vision blurs, eyelids sailing down. He curled his hips up in a way that made it too easy for him to hit my G-spot with every stroke. 

Echoes of our moans and eager bodies recklessly colliding were the only sounds I could hear anymore. Up in the heaven of bliss, anything that wasn’t Eddie faded into the void of my subconscious, seizing to exist. There was nothing outside of this moment. 

Eddie grips the side of my cheek, thumb pressed on the soft skin under my eye, peppering kisses on the bone of my jaw. As he nears the lobe of my ear, lips nudging my earrings, he stutters yes yes yes yes, plunging achingly deeper. Whimpers and mewls spill uncontrollably at the feeling of him stretching me so wide and deep. 

“You take my cock so well, baby,” he sighs, words scattered by his restless motions. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” 

“Fuck, fuck, fu-, fuck yes, yes, Eddie yes,” words stumble gracelessly past my lips as I become a dumb moaning mess on Eddie’s cock. His toasty hand exposes my cheek to the chillness of the air, as his fingers take the liberty of rubbing my clit. He uses two, maybe three (who cares it felt good all the same), of his digits to massage my core soothingly; a pace that was a wild contrast to the pace his hips were going. 

The mixture of pleasures makes the knot in my stomach unbearable as I grew desperate for a release. 

Doing my best to roll my hips against his, hoping to meet his thrusts, he looks at me smirking, well aware of what I was trying to do. “’M gonna cum soon. Please let me cum,” I plead, eyebrows furrowing. Eddie dives in for a kiss, lips salty with perspiration. 

“Yeah? You wanna cum, princess? You wanna cum all over my dick?” he asks, using both hands to grip my sides, slamming into me. 

Yes, yes. Please let me cum, Eddie. 

His glossy cock, drenched in my arousal throbbed and twitched as it brushed perfectly against my walls faithfully. He looked down at where our bodies connected, loving the way we made a mess out of each other. My arms wrap around his neck to pull him unavailingly nearer. Gripping the flesh of my ass and thighs, he lifts me slightly off the sink, rocking my hips along the length of his shaft, humping into me simultaneously. 

My moans turn into short gasps as I feel my descent into a pool of euphoria nearing. “That feels so fucking good. That feels so fuckin’ good,” I whine, running my nails across his back. With Eddie's hands sprawling my body, I became fully consumed by him. There was nothing that I could touch except Eddie, smell except Eddie, see, hear, and taste except Eddie. 

“Yeah?” he asks, voice wobbling. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl. Gonna cum so deep inside you. You deserve it, princess,” he rambles, palming one of my breasts as he uses his other hand to keep me steady once I regain control of my hips. We’re absolutely feral as our bodies grind and slam against each other, pathetically needy. 

Feeling my orgasm approach, I tighten around him, sleek walls squeezing him impossibly tighter. Eddie’s thrusts grow increasingly impatient, if that were even possible, as his strokes become shorter and less calculated. His body stutters and contracts from what I presume is his nearing release. 

“That pussy’s so wet and so tight for me. Fuck. I want you to cum. I need you to cum. Cum for me, baby,” he moans, fighting off his orgasm so he could watch mine, undistracted by his own. He gets a few more strokes in before my thighs start shaking, piercing moans flying out of my mouth. 

Fuck, Eddie. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonn- I’m cumming. Don’t stop. Fuck. It’s all just word vomit at this point. The only form of punctuation was my moans. 

“No, I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Cumming all over my cock so fucking pretty like that,” he replies, head falling into the crook of my neck. I feel like I’m floating as I start getting light-headed, riding out my peak. My mind’s foggy. The knot in my stomach is fully pulled undone much to Eddie’s amusement, as he kisses my neck, humming. 

 His body becomes weak as he feels his climax approaching, “Oh, fuck. You feel so good. Fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby.” He grunts, white ropes of thick, warm cum painting my stomach as he pulls out. Covered in my arousal, his cock is shiny like a trophy, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘afterglow’. Exclaiming a plethora of swear words, Eddie’s face is drawn into an expression of pure bliss, a wide smile, making him look especially kissable. 

He’s breathing heavily as he slips himself back in, the euphoric sensation still lingering in his bones. Keen on devouring another one of his loads, my entrance contracts, as if it was panting hungrily, waiting to swallow him up again. He pulls air between clenched teeth as his sensitive shaft drags in and out, overstimulating the both of us. He’s greedy for another orgasm just as I am. 

“Oh, princess, you’re such a good girl for me. Fuck, I wanna cum again.” His thrusts speed up, rock-hard erection poking inside me at all the right spots. Mouth drying from all his rambling, he pants as his mind goes blank. 

“I wanna cum again, I wanna cum again, please. Please, please let me cum again,” he whines, greedy for another orgasm. It’s a complete 180 from how he was behaving just a few moments ago. Instead of grunting, he was whimpering. Instead of ramming into me, he was savoring me. Completely relishing at this moment. 

Please, please, please, fuck.

His eyes shut as he rambled, begging and whispering the naughtiest things, aching for his second release. All while his head was blocking an overhead lamp, casting a blond light around the perimeter of his mane, similar to that of a halo. I blinked up at him, pupils drinking him in. He looked so angelic like this. So perfect. 

Pulling him in by his pearl necklace, I smirk at him, loving the way he sounded begging me to allow him to cum. “So horny you wanna cum twice, huh? You need my pussy that bad?” 

“Yes, baby, I need your pussy. I need your pussy so bad. Let me cum again for you, please,” he asks, breath fanning my cheeks. His moans are soft and desperate, only quieting when he frowns at his cock slipping out. The warm and sticky composition of my arousal and cum proved to be better than any brand of lube. His mouth falls open, no sound emitting as he feels his climax approaching quicker than before. 

“Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum for me,” I coo, as he pulls himself out, rapidly jerking his cock, a loud wet sound following his every stroke. His entire body reacts, twitching and shaking, as this orgasm is seemingly stronger than the one before. Sweat runs from his forehead, around the wrinkles of his shut eyes, before falling into another droplet of sweat drowning his tattoos. 

“Fuccck,” he strains, milking every last drop of cum from his tip. He chokes out a laugh, content. “Shit,” he grunts, eyes tracing my body, stopping at my core that was dripping in his load. 

He bites his lower lip, lugging his softening cock across my clit. “You’re so pretty like this. All fucked out and covered in my cum,” he sighs, hand moving down to my hips. He lowers himself down, back on his knees, pushing my legs up so that the face of my thigh met my nipple. “You gonna let me clean you up, baby?” 

“Yes, please, Eddie,” I breathe, gripping his hair as his tongue goes to work on my clit. Slurping on the sensitive button, he hums while he tastes his cum mixed with my own, presumably enjoying the elixir. He spreads me open, revealing my leaking core, plunging his tongue into my hole, and curling it when he got deep enough. 

His fingers find my clit and play with it, drawing out the most pornographic moans from me. His eyes pierce mine, gawking at the way my body squirmed and reacted so easily to him. He switches gears, using his tongue to lap up my juices while his fingers stir up the remaining wetness in me. I grind my waist to meet with his fingers, which causes the tip of his bulbous nose to be added to the equation. 

I whimper at my second climax calling. My body stutters as I clench his fingers. Gathering up his abandoned cum on my stomach, I suck on my fingers fancying in his flavor. 

“You’re so good, baby. I love the way moan for me.” His hands caress my body, tugging at my skin. I feel the vibration of the music rattling through my chest though I’m too engulfed in Eddie’s touch to be disturbed by it. 

“That’s it, yes. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” he teases, noticing the way I tensed, and moans amplified. His fingers hit my G-spot perfectly into my orgasm as if they had maps telling them exactly where to go. My hips follow his tongue shamelessly as I ride the wave out, not wanting the feeling to end quite yet. My breasts quivering as I try to catch my breath, Eddie smiles bright and wide, lips glossy and swollen. 

“You did so good, princess, holy fuck,” he grins, planting his wet mouth on mine, letting me taste myself on him. I smile drowsily, mind empty yet so full of Eddie, “You too. I really liked that.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, picking up my pants and underwear, helping me get them back on, and breathing heavily. “I’m glad you did.” 

He smiles down at me, hair a wild mess thanks to my fingers constantly exploring it, sweat, and the natural high of sex, giving Eddie a look of pure satisfaction. I pull my clothes over me, afraid of the possibility of some drunk person stumbling in, though just a few seconds ago, that was the least of my worries. 

Looping the belt back into his pants as he threw them over his legs, Eddie slows his movements, an inner debate playing out in his head. “I meant what I said, you know.” 

My legs shake as I lower myself back onto the ground, knees wobbling like an infant learning how to walk for the first time. Redirecting the strands of my hair back into their rightful place, I glance over at him. “About?” 

“About wanting to be seen with you. After hanging out with you tonight, and you know, doing what we just did,” he laughs quickly, gesturing to the sink, before continuing, “I really like you, [Y/N].” 

I can’t help but smile at his shyness. He hides himself in his hair, distracting his hands by shrugging on his jacket, though I know with the way he was sweating, there was no chance he was cold. It baffled me how a person who exuded so much confidence in everything he did, got so timid around little old me. “I really like you too, Eddie,” I state, reaching to grab his hand. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” I giggle. 

A sigh of relief and a hand squeeze is what I get in return before he says, “Let me take you on a date, then. A real one. Please.” Is this even real life? It made me frown seeing how unsure of himself he was when he asked. 

“I’d love to,” I press my lips against his, kissing any lingering doubts away. He smiles into the kiss, taking a hold of my head between his two hands. It’s such a warm, comforting embrace. I could drift off to another land much more safe and happier, just like this. He places a peck on the tip of my nose as we separate. 

“Come on, let’s go dance,” I laugh, pulling him towards the door. “After you, m’lady,” he chuckles, opening the door for me. A perfect gentleman. 

We saunter down the hallway, the sound of the music unmuffling as we rejoin the celebration. I do my best to not obviously look like I just experienced two of my best orgasms ever. It was easy enough, though I knew had traces of Eddie still lingering on the skin of my tummy somewhere my eyes couldn’t see. 

I catch a glimpse of Avery at her favorite spot: the bar. Tapping Eddie’s shoulder, I let him know I’ll be back in a second, leaving him on the dancefloor as I make a path through the crowd toward my partner in crime. 

“Howdy,” I smile, widely. Avery clocks it immediately. 

“How was it?” she smirks, tapping her nails on the wood of the edge of her bar stool. Pretending to zip my lips with an imaginary zipper, she slaps my leg playfully, though she already knows keeping things from her was something I wasn’t capable of doing. She was my sister. Of course, I had to tell her. 

“I’ll tell you when we leave outta here,” I promise, calming her nosy nerves. “Oh, one thing that did come up though,” I begin. She perks up like a dog who just heard a noise. 

“What?” 

“Apparently, you have pictures of us all over your office,” I smirk. The color in her skin runs pale as she realizes she’s been caught. There’s been a running gag between us that we didn’t like each other as much as we let on. Though we both knew that wasn’t true and that we’d most likely end up staying in each other's lives until the end of time, it still was hilarious to tease each other. 

“Wanna tell me what that’s about?” 

She scans the crowd to find Eddie, scowling once she spots his conspicuous hair in the crowd. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.” 

[naavispider]

Merciless - part 2

(Part 1 here)

In which John Mercer stops by Bridgehead during the events of ATWOW. When he hears of the human boy raised on Pandora with the natives, his curiosity gets the better of him.

The sound of his clunky footsteps echoed down the pristine corridor. John Mercer had never been down in this section of the RDA’s largest stronghold. It all looked the same as what he was used to however; the hallways and signage were presented in a similar layout, and the gleaming metal walls just barely reflected his determined gait as he made his way down to the boy’s cell.

Technically, he didn’t have clearance to be down here, but thankfully for him, years of service and being a veteran of Pandora meant he had fingers in a few very important pies. He stopped when he reached the sign displaying ‘Socorro, Miles’. 

He laughed to himself - Quaritch always did have an extremely large ego. How did he expect to keep it quiet that this was his boy with a name like that? He stopped short of the cell entrance, opting instead for the observation room next door. Stepping into the dark viewing space, his eyes took in the monitors and discarded notes, still attached to clipboards with coffee mug stains on them. He shook his head, marvelling at how amateur the whole operation was. 

Thankfully, no one else was here, so he took a seat behind the double sided mirror. 

It was quiet inside the cell. The boy was in a corner, sleeping with his head resting on his knees. The first thing Mercer noted was how big he was. From what he understood, the kid could only be around 16, yet he was larger than the average fully grown man. Even sitting down, it was obvious he was over six feet tall. And strong too. He was perfectly toned all over without an inch of excess body fat. He was probably in better shape than most athletes. 

Aside from the tarzan-style fashion choices, the boy looked like a formidable opponent in the field. Mercer glanced at the camera footage, playing on one of the monitors while the boy slept, which showed Socorro first being brought in. His suspicions about the boy’s strength were confirmed at the sight of four men struggling to drag him into the room. Socorro used every asset available to him to fight and resist his captors until he was eventually overcome by sheer force of manpower. Curious, Mercer fiddled around to unmute the footage. Had the boy developed language? Could he speak Na’vi or English? It would be interesting to get a glimpse into his psychological state. 

Socorro seemed to scream and shout a lot, most of it unintelligible. That was definitely an American accent though. Interesting. Even the youngest of his previous students never lost their Na’vi accents. Further evidence that the indigenous were less adaptable than humans due to their more constricted vocal chords. 

The tingling sense of excitement that Mercer hadn't felt in a long time started to return. Finding this boy was like finding a goldmine. It would be a complete and utter waste to use him for anything other than research purposes. There was no doubt in Mercer’s mind that the boy held the key to advancements for mankind. Maybe it would even be enough to rebuild his tattered reputation within the RDA and prove once more the worthiness of his projects. It was a sham how TAP ended, and Mercer wouldn’t be blamed for it for one more day. Socorro spelled redemption. 

A warm flare had sparked to life in Mercer’s belly, one he knew too well. It would grow and grow, burning in the background until it finally blazed hot down his veins. 

He took a deep breath, regaining some control over his runaway thoughts. He couldn’t get overexcited. Ardmore wasn’t budging, and neither would Colonel Quaritch. 

Just then, his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door clicking. He spun around to see a woman with brown hair wearing medical scrubs enter the dark room. 

“Oh! Sorry…” she said when she saw him, frowning in confusion at his presence.

“Don’t be.” He offered her a slick smile. “I’m only observing.”

“Right…” she still looked unsure as to why he was there, which perhaps explained why she hadn’t moved from the doorway. 

“Please, don’t let me get in your way.”

She entered hesitantly, bringing out a clipboard and viewing the boy from the mirrored glass. Her name badge told him her name was Janine. 

“Is he in good health?” he asked, suddenly concerned there was an unforeseen issue.

She sighed. “Generally, yes. The neuroscanner is taking its toll on him though.”

“What are the side effects?” 

“Headaches, nausea… that type of thing.”

“Anything permanent?”

She turned to look at him. For some reason, Mercer got the feeling that she was judging him. What for, he couldn’t possibly predict.

“No. Nothing permanent.”

The air suddenly became very still and cold between them. Satisfied that the boy wasn’t going to be permanently damaged by Ardmore’s interrogation techniques, he decided that stepping out and introducting himself was better than remaining here with the nurse with a stick up her ass.

As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the corridor outside, he once more took in the strange sight of the half-naked, feral hybrid sitting behind the glass. 

“Miles?” he asked, his heart beating rather faster than usual. It felt strange to call him that. 

The boy’s head lifted from his knees, and Mercer had to contain his gasp. Miles’s brow was furrowed and the expression of disgust was so akin to his father’s that it threw him temporarily off guard. 

“How are you doing in there?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed in even further suspicion. “Amazing, asshole.”

A sense of humour too - this was the dream project. 

“How long have you been in there?” He kept his tone light, but was careful to fake enough concern. 

Miles scoffed. “Why do you care?”

“It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

The boy scoffed again, shaking his head. “What do you want?”

“I want to introduce myself. My name is John Mercer. I used to work on the Western Frontier.”

Miles scrunched his nose up. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“No,” Mercer chucked slightly. “I suppose it wouldn’t.”

“Whatever,” Miles retorted. “You’re a coloniser. Congratulations.”

“I know why you see it that way. But my line of work was a little more… political than all that. I wanted to build bridges, not tear them down. I did a lot of work for SciOps.”

“You’re a scientist?” The boy didn't look impressed, but Mercer could tell he was curious.

“In a manner of speaking.”

Miles’s eyes were beginning to lock onto Mercer’s. Somehow, Mercer’s words were working. He'd surprised even himself.

“Did you know Dr Augustine?”

Grace Augustine? How the hell did this kid know about her? She died around the time he was born, if Mercer’s timeline was correct. 

“Not personally.”

Some of the fire behind the kid’s eyes seemed to die down at this news. He slunk back against the wall. 

“Listen, Miles-”

“That’s not my name,” the kid hissed. 

Daddy issues too? Perfect. 

“Okay. What do they call you then?”

The boy grinned conspiratorially, as if by withholding his name he’d won some kind of strategic standoff. 

“Okay,” Mercer said slowly. “Your file says Socorro. So let’s use that shall we?”

The kid’s eyes flashed dangerously in his direction, but he didn’t speak. 

“Ardmore’s drilling you pretty hard. You don’t want to give up everything and everyone you’ve ever known. I understand that. But she’s not your problem.”

Socorro was playing the part of the moody, uninterested teenager well, but Mercer knew he was listening closely. 

“The recombinant out there? That’s not your father. And you being here causes him a few issues.”

Socorro glanced up, ill-hidden confusion written all over his face. 

“Think about it. Don’t take this personally, but your existence is embarrassing for him. You shouldn’t have been born. He broke a huge safety protocol and will have to face the consequences. Second, if you’re not going to talk, then you’re useless to him and them. They won’t keep you around for long.” Suddenly, Mercer felt sorry for him. “I know this is a hard situation for you, but there’s no use forming an attachment with someone who’s going to have to terminate you.”

Socorro hissed loudly at this, catching Mercer off guard. He truly was a feral little Na’vi after all. 

“I’m sorry to put it so bluntly-”

But he was stopped in his tracks by a large, cold hand gripping his shoulder from behind and spinning him around, bringing him face to navel with the intimidating figure of Miles Quaritch. 

“What the hell are you doing talking to him?” 

Quaritch’s hand was vice-like on his shoulder, and Mercer tried his best to not let the strain of it show in his face. 

“Colonel Quaritch. I’m afraid I couldn’t control my… professional curiosity. Is there a problem?” He recounted what he had just said to the kid, trying to work out whether Quaritch had a right to be mad. From the looks of him, whatever he’d heard, he didn’t like. 

Quaritch’s face was seething with barely repressed anger, his clipped ears pinned down almost flat against his skull. His eyes darted from Mercer to Socorro, before settling on burning a laser hole through Mercer’s own eye sockets. “Get. Out,” he growled, his voice deadly. 

With that, Mercer was shoved out of Quaritch’s way so forcefully he stumbled and almost fell. Behind Quaritch stood Wainfleet, who Mercer was not surprised to see still acted as his boss’s obedient dog. Knowing his time was over, he stood up straight and dusted down the front of his previously crisp shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from Quaritch’s grip. 

“Gentlemen,” he said more confidently than he felt, and then turned his back on the cell and the recoms, his mind spinning with everything he had just learned.

It was so interesting to write from Mercer's perspective and give him and Spider some interaction! I have ideas about where this fic could go... but I won't commit to anything right now! As always, big thanks to @hyperfixatedfandomer for being such a huge source of inspiration!

[schtrawberry]

oh, to dress as your venus sign.ᐟ

[!] featuring my aries venus in the ninth house.

brief description: focusing on the more malefic side of mars in comparison to my previous post. in venus, aries is boyish and energetic— leaning heavily into bright reds to combat various shades of monochromatic blacks, whites, greys, and paler shades.

short hair, short cuts, and an even shorter temper.ᐟ

rather than the vibrant pinks and neons i've mentioned before, this venus in aries uses varying shades of red to cut through dark purples, greys, blacks, and army greens.

felt incredibly inspired by this picture from the musier paris spring 2023 lookbook— the use of grey leather on plain white with the model's very sleek pair of black boots made for such a carefully-monochromatic outfit that allowed for her red hobo bag to absolutely shine through. and the hair! just the perfect amount of short and playful that i associate with venus in this sign.

in this interpretation, venus in aries is a minimalist. yes, there may be a mix of revealing cuts and varying textures of leather and denim, but the colors always speak for themselves. sparkles, crazy patterns, belts, and excessive pieces of jewelry are to be kept at a minimum (but not forgone) in order for the singular addition of red to be the forever star of the show.

leather, cargo, and denim are truly the primary fabrics that bring body to each outfit for this sign— layered on top of cotton or modal to create emphasis for these more structured fabrics.

brands that come to mind: BAPE, maje paris, musier, AMI paris, zadig et voltaire, A.P.C, this piece from the isabel marant spring 2024 collection, jil sander, helmut lang.

brief description: venus in the ninth house is big on travel and expanding their horizon by visiting unfamiliar places. in this house, venus seeks pieces of clothing that make moving easy and comfortable— preferably in muted blues, pinks, greens, and oranges but with a loud pop of red to show their bright, jupiterian spirit.

something to camp in, something outdoorsy, something easy to move in.ᐟ

the ninth house also represents ethics; making this sign highly attracted to fashion brands that make use of eco-friendly fabrics and materials. they have a soft spot for brands that put special effort into ensuring that they are operated in an ethical manner.

colorful knits and sturdy hiking boots as seen in this aries x ROA hiking collaboration! such a perfect blend of comforting knitwear and natural colors to support the rugged life of their dreams.

too keep up with this sign's active spirit, i also envisioned a more boyish and sporty wardrobe and felt particularly inspired by the most recent sporty & rich x adidas collaboration. cotton tees, jersey shorts, and bejeweled sambas that are best for movement and activity!

in terms of jewelry, a charmed anklet first comes to mind. this sign is also a minimalist to, so they would rather put their energy into accessorizing their shoes with charms, bags with trinkets, and beltlines with functional pouches.

more energy moves towards functionality in this sign; with multi-pocketed jackets and pants, compact crossbody bags, and shoes that can be paired with a multitude of outfits.

brands that come to mind: forét (fw24), adidas sambas, aries x ROA collab, thinking mu, AMI paris, sporty & rich, marni, pangaia, comptoir des cotonniers.

[thetiredasthmatic]

The Twisted Fairytale [Welcome Home Fanfic]

Synopsis: Only one person could be Mx. Darling. And it was the time of year where suitors were chosen. But...how did they get here? And more importantly....how do they get out?

Au: Royalty Au (Also Human Au!)

Word Count: 1.5k (4 and a half pages!)

Warnings: Scopophobia, Stalking, excessive eye contact (it's wally so it's expect lol), obsession and devotion, kidnapping.

A/n: OH BOY DO I LOVE A GOOD TWISTED FAIRYTALE- I'll talk more at the end. Hope Ya enjoy!

edit: I may or may not be continuing this or not, it was kinda just a one off idea i had in my head. I'll probs be focusing on writing other stuff more and take a mini break from writing for welcome home! and I don't want to be disrespectful by continuing to write for this series! I hope you guys understand and stick around to see what else I have in store!

“Y/n! Y/n! You should go! What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I don't know, Ms. Joyful…”

Your boss, Ms. Julie Joyful huffed. You worked for the fashion designer in the west district of the kingdom of the Welcome, a beautiful and colorful land filled with amazing people.

Ms. Julie was bestfriend with the Prince of this land, so she was something of a royal advisor, so she got the scoop of when things were happening in the kingdom.

It just seems that today she found out that they are looking for a suitor for the Prince. She explained her reasoning for wanting you to do it, as she thinks you’d make great royalty and you’d be wonderful.

But you, a commoner from the farming district knew better. 

That and the prince creeped you out a bit…but you weren’t going to tell her that.

You hated it whenever you had to go to the castle with her. You always felt like you were being watched, judged, like someone was waiting on you to make everyone move...

Hell, besides that, you still were in shock how you managed to get this job working alongside Ms. Joyful, so you could only imagine what the competition for the Prince’s hand would be like.

“Well! Whether you like it or not! You’re going Y/n! I don’t want you to pass up this opportunity! Plus, Sally and Poppy recommended you too!”

You wanted to slowly disappear.

Like maybe you could go hop in the river.

Or you could ask Eddie Dear to ship you off to Alaska.

You wanted to be anywhere but here right now...

Ms. Sally was an amazing actor who over saw the entertainment district alongside Barnaby, the prince’s right hand. She was always coming to you so she could get more ideas for scripts or costume designs for her latest plays!

While You already knew Ms. Poppy was going to recommend you as well, she was like a mother type figure to you.

When you arrived in the farming district of Welcome, you had little to no memory of where you came from, just your name.

It was strange when you try to remember it, you remember being pulled somewhere and falling before you ended up falling face down in Ms. Poppy's garden.

She took you in and showed you the ropes when it came to farming, and the rest is history. She was the reason why you worked alongside Julie as she saw you had talent that shouldn't be wasted with farming.

You should have know they were gonna throw your name in the bunch.

You could only sigh in response.

“So when do I leave Ms. Julie?”

“Um..Now actually! Barnarby has been waiting on us this entire time!’

You whipped your head around an low and behold there stood the large, blue haired male with a big grin on his face. He gave a sheepish grin as Julie marched over to him, handing your bags to him.

“Come one! I’m gonna take you up there!”

“Y-yes..ma’am..”

You allowed yourself to be led by the two, your fate resting in their hands until you arrived at the castle. But you felt a burning sensation in the back of your head, almost as if your body was trying to tell you something.

Like it was trying to tell you that this was a bad idea…

—------------

When the three of you arrived, Julie walked through the halls of the Welcome Palace with you, entering the meeting room and passing a trio of other women.

They glared at you with filthy glances until they jumped at the shrill yell Julie let out.

“WALLLYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! I BROUGHT MY CANDIDATE CHOICE!!!”

It was silent for a bit after her yell before a Monotonous voice could be heard coming down the hall.

“Coming! You don’t have to yell Julie, I already knew you had arrived!”

That voice belonged to the prince, and you quickly joined the others as he rounded the corner. You felt like your breath had been taken away.

Prince Wally Darling, or Prince Darling as he so lovingly went by, is a beautiful man, glowing brown skin, pretty dark blue eyes, well done hair and a handsome face to seal the deal. 

He knew how attractive he was and he was not afraid to use it.

He then walked over to Julie, engaging in conversation with her, and you let out a sigh of relief.

Until she pointed at you.

You felt your body tense as his eyes followed Julie’s finger and you could’ve sworn when you made eye contact his pupils dilated a bit before returning to normal.

You wanted to go back to the time when you didn’t know he existed right about now.

Wally then tilted his head in confusion before turning to Julie. “I thought it was supposed to be seven, not five?” Wally asked and Julie giggled,

“Sally and Poppy chose Y/n as their choice too! She’s just that lovely!”

You could feel the other girls glare at you at Julies statement.

You wanted to roll your eyes and yell that they could have him, that you were forced to be here really.

BUt one other one looked at you with a sheepish look. 

You knew her from your time in the farming district, Her name was Viola Vibrato, a pretty dark skinned woman with pretty green hair and matching yellow-green eyes. She was your only friend in the entire kingdom besides Julie and Sally.

She was an amazing singer so it was weird to see her here.

And it appeared she didn't want to be here herself...

She seemed to look uncomfortable as well, and she quickly made her way over to you.

“Psst. Y/n can we talk real quick?”

“Yea, Sure!”

Viola then grabbed your hand and headed in the direction of what you could only assume were bedrooms. A pair of eyes following you as you were pulled along.

Turns out Viola was the first one to be brought to the palace for this little suitor selection, so she had a room in the Palace already. She hurriedly pulled you into the room before closing the door.

You took notice of how she was acting…She seemed a bit…

Paranoid.

“Vio…are you okay?..” You asked as you watched her check around the room.

It was liked she was looking to see if someone or anyone was listening in on you two. She checked every part of the room until she felt comfortable. 

When she finally stopped she grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/n. we need to get out of here.” 

You were shocked by her words and tilted your head in confusion, prompting her to continue on.

“We don’t belong here Y/n…”

“I mean of course we don’t were farmers in a royals-”

“No! There’s something off about this place! About the prince! Hell even about the advisors!”

You stared at her, reading the worried look on her face. 

“Don’t you find it strange that you don’t remember anything about your past life? That we woke up here in this sunshine and rainbows kingdom!?”

You then averted your gaze to the ground. She was right. Viola had explained how she had also woken up in the farming district, barely being able to remember a thing about where she came from until she started having these weird dreams.

Dreams of being chased down by something unknown yet all seeing..

The feeling of eyes just on her, even when she was out in the open she felt eyes on her. Or how she had met others who felt the same way that she did, but when they brought their feeling up, they disappeared as quick as they arrived in the kingdom.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we of all people were chosen to be here? It’s like they’re setting us up for something…” Viola finished and you gave her a nod.

You had always thought this castle and the kingdom was a bit odd. 

You questioned how the district ran if people never paid for anything, or how the shops were able to keep their stock high, despite not charging a thing for their goods. Why did the kingdom only have one scientist and one mailman, or how did Wally even become prince?

“So what do we do, Vio?...we can’t just get up and leave!”

“We fake the funk until we can figure out what the hell is going on.” She answers quickly.

“We fake it until we can-”

A rapid knock cut Viola off followed by Barnaby’s voice.

“Umm, Ms. Viola, it is time for bed! I have to show Ms. Y/n to her room.”

Viola looked at you, before nodding and allowing you to leave out the room, the situation you already didn’t want to be in seems like it just got worse…

When you did reach your room and bid Barnaby goodnight, you still felt like eyes were on you. Though you knew you were alone in the room.

You sighed and decided to finally sleep it off, especially with the information that Viola had just told you. You snuggled up in your bed and hoped and prayed that nothing was coming to get you in your sleep…

—------

‘Y/n….Darling…

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find yourself in a dark void. You let out a shriek of fear as you realized there were eyes in the void. And said eyes were staring at you.

‘My….darling…you’re not leaving me are you..?’

You were frozen with fear as the eyes bore down on you.

‘You don’t get to leave…not after i did all this work to bring you here…’

With that phrase you quickly scrambled away, where you were running? You didn’t know but you just wanted to get the feeling of eyes off your back.

‘Don’t leave me! Where are you going!?’

You covered your ears, you felt like someone was watching you, that the voice you was hearing was in your head, so no matter how hard you try to block it out, You could hear it booming in your head.

All you could do is effortlessly run and hope that you would get away wake up

Wake up..

Wake up.

No matter what you do you need to WAKE UP-

You jolted away, only to be met with the black void of your room. You quickly reached over to turn on your lamp.

Suddenly, You didn’t feel like sleeping anymore….

------------

"Do you like her?..."

......

"Yea...She's not like the others...she's the perfect piece.."

....

....

"Do you really think so? You think she'll become my Princess?.."

...

.........

"Okay. I can't let this one get away.."

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: OKAYYYY I hope you all enjoyed! I do like to take time when working on these longer fics and I take great care whenever I'm developing a universe! So there will be small things that I may come back and change! But I hope you all enjoy!

Also Don't forgot to leave requests for me or if you just want to say hi and talk about other ideas! Don't be afraid to!

Till next time <3 Take care of yourselves and I love you all!

[harveyguilleniconodelamoda]

i've noticed that harvey tends to go for wide leg pants for 'fancy' occasions and i wish he wouldn't

I honestly can't relate, Anon! He looks so fucking good in a wide-leg pant. That silhouette works soooo well on him, he's so gorgeous and present and powerful!

But like...I get it. We all have our preferences when it comes to clothing! Style is intensely personal. So if you don't favor a wide-leg pant, that's fine! You do you. He also rocks a skinny or tapered-leg pant at a lot of events, and looks amazing there, too! But I'd like to take this opportunity to talk a bit about why I absolutely love the wide-leg pant look.

Comfort

A wide-leg pant is just damn comfy, in my opinion. The ease of movement, the air between the fabric and your skin allowing it to breathe. It's just comfy! Comfort only helps with confidence, and as we know...confidence is the single must-have ingredient that will make or break any outfit. Even more so, I'd imagine, when you're under bright lights with a hundred cameras pointed at you!

Legs for days

This is somewhat dependent on the waistline and hemline, but I think Harvey and his stylist(s) have that down. A wide-leg pant can really elongate your legs, which is great for looks where you want to emphasize your sense of presence (like, say, when representing yourself and your work on the red carpet). It also just looks very cool in motion!

Taking up space

Fashion can be used to emphasize features, change proportions, project a certain shape or image...and in general, I think that's fine. But the vast majority of fashion advice for plus sized people for decades has been centered around how to make ourselves appear smaller, as if we can become thin via the power of optical illusion. We're supposed to stay away from anything too eye-catching, anything too big or attention-getting. We can't (according to conventional wisdom) wear anything too tight, or too bright, or too loud, or too big.

No slouchy or oversized styles, wide-leg pants, big sleeves, sparkles, bright colors, loud patterns, billowy capes, bows, etc...anything with excess fabric, especially. These are all things we're often told to stay away from as plus sized people because it'll make us "look bigger." And the subtext of that in a fatphobic society, of course, is that we're already unacceptably large and should want to minimize that as much as possible. Like we have to apologize just for existing.

WelI, I say fuck that. The thing that finally made me feel good in my body? When I stopped trying to take up less space and make myself small. It wasn't doing me any favors. It just looked--and felt--like I was trying to hide. Because I was!

And apparently, Harvey shares at least some of that sentiment! He embraces all of those "forbidden" things and always looks fabulous doing so! He takes up space. He draws attention to himself. He is a presence that cannot be ignored, instead of fading into the background and radiating apologies for his size. He doesn't need to apologize. His size is a gift and he's beautiful.

Anyway...those are my thoughts. To close, have some photos of Harvey in wide-leg pants over the years, looking gorgeous and taking up space.

[addie4ddie2005]

hiiiiiiiii, i was wondering if your requests were open, and if so, could you do a hair braiding fic with Wally Darling x gn!reader? like. wally has No Idea how to braid hair because his hair is always, Like That and the reader teaches him how and then he does their hair and they're both blushing and,

accidentally went off the rails and wrote 2k+ words and i forgot the prompt halfway but here it is :”D i literally have no idea how to braid hair or fix hair. tried to learn before i chopped it off and literally cried sooo there’s no tutorial in here djdvshdvsh super fun to write!! sorry if it wasn’t what you expected aha

cw: touch-centric, maybeee non-consensual kissing?? reader is cool with it but no questions were asked, mild implications of mind-reading, mentions of blood and needles

Desc: Wally X Human Reader,,, julie and wally style your hair before the former needs to leave due to a butterfly-related emergency. it’s just you and him.

No horror this time lol

Everyone in Home was just so fascinated with your hair! Especially Julie. She was pretty handy with her own locks of yarn, so when you strolled in with those thread-thin layers (no, thinner than thread!) she was lightning-fast to sink her hands into it and start suggesting styles! Poor girl nearly exploded when you told her she could go crazy with it, you didn’t mind! You were at ease just letting her run a comically large comb through it, but you were yanked from your serenity when she pulled out the needles.

Turns out, the citizens of Home have a unique way of grooming, involving pins and sharp bits, string, a bit of dexterity…

Her scream was as instantaneous as your yelp. You grabbed the back of your head and felt a hot dewdrop stick to your palm.

Honest mistake, really. You told Julie she was fine! You should have thought of it sooner, haha. There was a teary-eyed apology and a hug. You’re never going to get used to their empathy, you think.

Later, she was recalling the strange story to her friends, noting that their new buddy is slap-full of paint! It hurts for that paint to spill out, apparently! Wally was listening.

Little guy creeped you out, honestly. It wasn’t like you didn’t like spending time with him, you just always felt like there was something brewing behind that permanent smile. No one else seemed to notice or care.

And he was on to you, too. Your mind felt… strange when he was around. You don’t know how to voice these concerns, so you didn’t.

You were fast friends either way. There was a mutual understanding of… something. You knew you two were kindred spirits right when you laid eyes on him.

Anyways.

You loved that big ole’ ball of yarn he had. “Hair” was a strong word, it was all stitched in, but it was even better to bat around or give a little squeeze! And he sure didn’t mind at all! Sometimes he’d even ask you to run your fingers through it or stitch something back into place. He trusted you a lot with his pomp. You think it has to do with your agile fingers, or your nails. (Your nails were a big hit in Home! You gave the best scritches, according to Barnaby.)

You eventually rescheduled that hair-styling date with Julie, more than a few times. The neighbors were never far behind, but Wally tagged along the most. His passion for fashion was no secret so he and Julie collaborated often to dress you up like a doll. You’d get the chance to style them, too. They thought your preferences were unique for a number of reasons and marveled at their transformations.

Today was one of those days. You had your head hanging over the sink, squeezing out shampoo. You had brought your own products because fabric softener didn’t agree with your… anything, really. You were washing out the absolute excess of spray, gel, glue, and whatever the heck Julie had plastered to your skull for your latest look. Your scalp was screaming for emptiness, but sweet Jul still had some fire left in her and was intent to braid your whole head while it was damp, as she was basically dreaming to see you with a head full of curls! You’d do anything for her, so whatever.

Wally was sitting on the counter, gazing at himself in a small hand-held mirror with the larger bathroom mirror blatantly behind him. His lips were moving silently in accordance to a song playing idly from the record player in another room.

Julie was beside you, also bouncing along to the distant melody, doing her makeup. She was in an orange mood today, she said.

“Alright, Jul, I’m ready.” You stood straight up and attempted to straighten out your aching back.

“Oh! But my…! Give me a second, just wring it out; I’m almost there.”

You took a towel and gave your hair a good squeeze, having a brief vision of folding it on the floor like a pillow and going to sleep. You prayed she’d have you sit down.

“Okie-dokie!” She slapped her pallette down on the counter. Wally looked up. “I’m ready.”

You yawned and you felt your eyes unfocus in the mirror. Standing on a stool to reach you, she ran her hands through your wet locks until it reached some sort of satisfactory position, and started from the top. You could feel her precision in your skull.

Wally’s attention drifted away from himself and he leaned in; his lazy gaze looking very similar to your own at the moment. “Now how’re you doing that, Julie?”

“It’s super easy! You just section it out, like so…”

Her explanation was lost on you. You were fantasizing about a nap.

“You try it!”

You floated back into reality when gentle hands sifted into your hair. With Julie, debatably a professional, styling and cutting for you all the time, you could easily sense the inexperience. The process began again, albeit slower, clumsier, and Julie started to tap her foot.

“You take that side, and I’ll take this side! We’ll be done in no time.”

Braid upon braid was piled onto your head. You focused more on the progress on your left, where you actually saw Wally squint in the mirror. Julie worked so fast that you couldn’t even feel it sometimes. Wally had his soft fingers against your scalp, tugging gently at the strands tight to your head for closer coverage. Julie stopped to help him every once in a while. You closed your eyes.

A commotion from the living room. Doors being thrown open.

“Julie, by stars, we NEED you!” Frank had rushed into the bathroom with the frenzy of someone being chased by an ax murderer. “A-27 is emerging and has requested you be there! For her, Julie!”

Julie gasped and dropped the hair she had so delicately braided. “Chryssabellum? She isn’t due for another week! Oh, um Wally!” She ran backwards out the door and flicked her hand. “You finish that!”

The door was swung halfway closed and the two were gone in a flash. You just stared.

“Hi, Frank. Okay, Julie.” Wally said after a long moment of them being gone. He hadn’t even looked up from braiding.

“Wow.” You breathed. Okay. “Can we sit down?”

“Sure. You look very very tired. I would be too, I think.”

You let out the most satisfying sigh ever and sank to the floor. The cold linoleum was heavenly in contrast to the balmy air. With only being twelve apples tall, Wally could still easily reach the top of your head. You planted your hands on the floor and leaned your head back, resting it on your shoulders.

His progress didn’t shift at all. He kept at it, slow, careful, learning, folding your hair over and over again.

Now that you think about it, Wally’s never fooled with your hair before. He was more of a wardrobe guy. “How’s it going back there?”

“It is going much!”

You let out another dramatic sigh. “She worked me today, Wally. She really did.”

“I can tell. You looked nice though. And funny.” He went for that spot between your neck and your skull, making little scratching motions to bring the hair closer to him before starting to braid. You let your eyes slip shut. He got on his knees for a better angle.

Yet another sigh. You got off your hands completely, preferring to lean back into his lap. Unbothered, yet hindered, he took his hands away, gazing down.

“You got sweet little hands, man.” You iterated by taking one in your own. It was damp from your hair. His whole outfit, including him, was now dampened by your hair.

“Thank you. They’re mine.”

“They are.” You repeated, smiling. It was sadly taken away.

“Sorry. Julie told me to finish.”

You huffed lightheartedly. “Can you manage upside-down?”

“I can try.” He straightened his legs, placing each at your side.

So you rolled over, crossing your arms over his thighs (or the equivalent) and laying on them. Your forehead was comfy against his abdomen. Finally satisfied, your eyelids dropped.

He started working on your hair again, adapting to the new position quickly. You were lost in the motions once again before the record player, for the first time that night, caught your attention.

It was playing something slow, emotional. Not quite sultry, you think. Goodness no. Just… passionate. Wally was humming along. You could feel the tiny rumble coming from somewhere inside him as he did so. Every once in a while, he’d whisper a breathy strand of lyrics that had you… thinking.

Everyone in Home was about as shy as a golden retriever. Embraces like this were not uncommon. In the time you’ve existed here, you’ve been hugged, kissed, cuddled, coddled, and just plain handled more than you ever have in your entire life.

So why were you all of a sudden funny about it? It’s not like your position was scandalous. Could be misinterpreted among humans, but it was very very very difficult for puppets to be scandalous. You appreciated that. You’ll forget about these fuzzy feelings later, you reckon. Hopefully.

He must have finished, or was close to it, because the lovely little motions stopped and he had one braid between his fingers.

“It’s like a paintbrush.” He positioned the end to mimic the act of painting his hand. “You’re full of them.”

You smiled against his legs. Now that he didn’t have an objective, you lazily looped your arms around him, further crushing yourself into his middle. He folded his hands in your hair.

Wally didn’t feel the need to make conversation or small talk, or anything like that. You were fine, there was no pressure on you to do so either. He was content to stare holes in the back of your head. You imagined that he was painting you in his mind, picking out a shade for each thread of your hair, envisioning just the right stroke at just the right speed so he could fully capture the wonders of you. Maybe he’d even paint with your hair. That’d be a fun exercise.

You got bored of imagining and flipped over. He never let go of you, which translated to his hands lightly traveling to your cheeks. You were met with deep black vaults, barely outlined by white, connecting with your own. Startling to a stranger, slightly less startling to you.

With his hands on either side of your face, you couldn’t help but feel something other than fear. You reached up and poked where his nose would be. He returned the gesture by brushing his thumbs down the slopes of your nose. The record player continued softly.

“Sorry for getting you all wet.” His damp hands felt nice though. Like getting a facial. You wouldn’t be surprised if your skin was a tad shinier after this.

“It’s fine. You’re still warm.”

Your face sure felt warm.

It slowly dawned on you that this interaction was getting less and less friendly. In the best of ways. Would he even know what you were talking about if you brought it up? Probably not. You’d sound like an idiot if you were too direct.

“What’re we doing here, Walls?”

His smile barely widened, in a half-laugh kind of way. His thumbs moved to smooth your cheekbones. They ached from your smile.

“The funny things you’re thinking about… that’s what we’re doing.”

You were just about to ask what he meant.

“Muah.” He said, against your teeth, catching your open mouth just in time. You felt fuzz on your tongue. His departure somehow caught your bottom lip. It tapped back to your teeth unceremoniously. Over before you knew it.

Very not friendly, you realized.

“Wally!” You flicked him on the shoulder, playfully offended. “Some gentlemen you are.”

He giggled, mirth wrinkling his eyes and your own.

“Did I do good?”

You licked your lips unconsciously. “Yeah, yeah. That was fine.”

His hand found your chin, barely tugging at your lip. It didn’t even expose your teeth, just serving to drive you absolutely insane.

“Are you sure I did it right…?” He asked.

“You usually open your mouth.” You finally said, quietly. Your hands and fingers and nails found the back of his head, burrowing under the yarn of that stitched in hair-do.

“Oh. That’s it, then.” His volume matched your own. You were lowering him towards you. Of course he’d have his eyes open, wide and starry. You got ready to close yours. You had just the faintest idea of what you were about to do.

A commotion from the front door.

You meant to yank your hand out of his hair and act as natural as possible when your finger snagged and you ended up snatching his head to the side.

“Oh! N— Wally I am so sorry.” Poor guy looked completely bewildered.

You automatically glanced at the door to see Julie’s befuddled gaze that clearly asked ‘Am I interrupting something?’ She said nothing, but cracked a grin as you hastily untangled from his pomp and addressed her from his lap way too casually.

“So, how did it go!”

“Um, good! Good. A little rough at first. Chrysabellum has a pattern on her wings that we haven’t seen before…”

She was definitely asking you about this later. And you definitely weren’t going to know what to say.

[lieutenant-teach]

Cody and Obi-Wan are getting prepared for a Rebellion mission. Reminiscences of the past, flirting and gaudy outfits. CodyWan edition of ‘Star Wars Summer Vacation’. Warning: Lego-style humor! Part 2\5 [part 1], [part 3], [part 4], [part 5].

The way to the destination was quite uneventful, learning about each other’s lives during these ten years, about the chips (Obi-Wan had always known there was something suspicious – loyal and kind men couldn’t just turn into cold-blooded murderers in a span of seconds!), about the state of the Rebellion (Cody working with his remaining brothers such as Rex and Wolffe as their own cell alongside the others like the Fulcrum and the Ghost crew). For his own part, Obi-Wan didn’t have any news to share except, well, being alive.

 – So, that’s the plan: we come into Jabba’s palace, blend in, find information about coaxium, find this coaxium, steal it, go away, - Cody summed up as they were approaching the Hutt’s palace, decorated excessively richly with colourful ribbons and broadsheets with ‘Happy birthday, Jabba!’.

 – ‘Find information’? – Obi-Wan still was dubious about a bright pink shirt with printed neon flowers Cody dragged from the depth of his ship and all but tugged on him. Cody himself was still wearing covers all over his face sans eyes and a ghastly coloured tunic (‘Rex is as gracious as he is.’), complemented with a hat similar to Cad Bane’s. Not that Obi-Wan didn’t trust they wouldn’t stand out – after all, this was the day anyone could enter the Mighty Jabba’s palace, and that means, anyone, even with questionable choice of outfits and with no fashion taste whatsoever. No, he just didn’t enjoy Rex’s humour.

 – Just asking around, even flirting, you know the drill, - Cody shot a bit surprised look. – You’ve done it million times.

 – Don’t wish to disappoint you, dear, but after ten years of almost complete secludedness, having only an eopie for a companion, I’ve lost all my charm, - the flash of Cody’s wonder, longing and warmth so strong it hurt didn’t slip Obi-Wan’s senses echoing his own feelings locked far far away in his soul for so long. And, just like ten years prior, it wasn’t time, it wasn’t place. But the endearment just slipped off his tongue and felt very natural. Not wandering from the mission at hand, compose yourself, Kenobi! – After all, who would even like to flirt with such an old man like me?

Judging by Cody’s glare and disagreeing huffing from behind the scarf, he didn’t buy this self-deprecating chuckle.

 – Firstly, you’re not that old. What are you, around fifty standard? Secondly, you look really good for a man who’s lived last ten years in a desert, - the defensiveness in Cody’s voice and feelings touched Obi-Wan, making him smile softly. But he couldn’t help from retorting:

 – Are you giving me a master-class in flirting? – teasing rolled off his tongue as natural as ten years ago.

 – Come on, learned from the best in this art, - Cody was as quick to banter as ever. – After all, you did call me ‘always handsome’ back in the cantina.

 – Found guilty, and regret nothing, - Obi-Wan raised his hands jokingly and earned a warm chuckle from behind the scarf which made his heart leap.

As they were approaching the gate, they noticed a couple of familiar stormtroopers near the entrance. One was balancing on the ladder trying to hang another broadsheet with congratulations, the other was giving very helpful instructions from the ground. They both didn’t even look at ‘just a married couple enjoying their vacation’ passing by.

 – You didn’t even get to flirt, - Cody sounded disappointed, as they spotted the coaxium almost instantly. The pile of vials with highly explosive material was nestled cozily right near Jabba the Hutt’s cushion. – Now to the plan: we must steal it.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows:

 – I presume you already have an idea how to do that?

 – Yes. You’re going to sing.

[madarasgirl]

Gods are not Meant to be Bound

Art posted with permission from the incredibly talented @lesyarei7. Thank you for making my mind run! 💖

Distracted and horny for Madara again. Pure Madara x Fem!Reader smut inspired by the image above.

He was the one who was bound, but it felt as if you were the prey. You were the one trapped with him.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW. Light bondage, brat taming, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, creampie, mentions of blood and violence (This is fiction. Seriously, don’t have sex with multiple strangers’ blood all over you). Madara is a dom, he loves his Reader. No abuse or degradation.

Words:2801 On AO3

"I will have you again." Madara's whisper tickled your ears and shot to your crotch as he hungrily grabbed your hips and pulled you to him. He rolled against you in promise of what's to come. Your pussy clenched. ALREADY?! You were still sore from earlier. Your mind screamed in horrified excitement. You loved when he got ravenous for you, but my goodness, this man could be insatiable.

He kneaded your fleshy ass with both hands and groaned, deft digits on one hand coming back around to rub against the fabric of your panties. Velvet lips meeting yours, he suckled lightly at your mouth before entering immediately to claim what was his. Your tongues fought briefly until he dominated, pushing yours aside in his exploration. He ate each of your moans. By the time you finally broke apart, you were breathless from his ministrations.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” Madara stared at you, his disapproval as clear as if it were still day.

“I had to come back to help with the cleanup. You did such a thorough job earlier,” you replied in frustration. Blood still remained all over the walls, even if the bodies were now removed. You knew Madara would follow you back here.

“How foolish to return. It seems you haven’t learned anything today.”

“Today I learned you’ll always appear in dramatic fashion to make a complete mess of things!” You rolled your eyes.

Madara stepped even closer and you raised your arm between you in feeble defence. He was still petting your crotch in tight circles through your underwear, a damp spot having already blossomed. “To protect you. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t come? If must make another mess—”

His face was close. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he devoured you with his gaze.

 “—I’ll just have to teach you again.” He pressed hard against your crotch, fingers slipping under the thin moist cloth and tracing around your nub. Your legs tensed, but you looked up at him in defiance.

“I like learning.” Especially when the lessons were with Madara. You could tell he was extremely angry with you despite his arousal.

“Hn you won’t forget this time. I shall make a mess of you."

You shuddered, kissing him again to make your man shut up and running your hands down his waist and across defined abs. Such a deliciously strong body. You could feel his strength radiating and filling the space as you pressed against him. Still his hand rubbed your clit while the other took greedy handfuls from your hip and butt. A finger delved inside to test your depths.

You felt your blood sizzle under his gaze. It was like he saw through you. You cracked. Everything was suddenly too much –the way he consumed you with his eyes, the way he touched you, the sinful words that fell from his mouth. You shoved him back to his surprise. "Too much! Y-you can't talk to me like t-that, and look at me like that, and touch me like that all at the same time!" You looked up at him with wide eyes, panting and flushed.

“I thought class was in session.” Madara came back to you with mirth tilting his lips up.

“I’m not the one who needs a lesson! You should be taught about use of excessive force!”

“Still such a mouth on you. There are better uses for your mouth Y/N.”

Challenge accepted.

Irritation building to a high, you pressed against his chest, nudging him in a backwards dance until his back touched the wall. You held up one of his arms and carefully bound his wrist to a handcuff you'd placed there previously.

Madara was curious. Your placement of the restraints was so slow he could have broken out easily, or even stopped you from applying them to begin with, but he complied for now. He enjoyed when you got feisty. You applied the cuff to his other wrist and stepped back to look at your handiwork while Madara likewise studied you.

Unhappy with the way you always felt naked even while fully clothed with Madara, you yanked up his shirt and left it behind his neck. It was your turn to ogle him. His skin was porcelain, chest thick with muscle, and his biceps solid. You ran your hands up his arms and squeezed those big biceps, giggling when he flexed for you. They were much too large for your hands to close around and you hummed in appreciation. Small scars littered Madara’s body, evidence of the difficult life he led. Dried blood that had seeped through his shirt still caked his shoulders and upper arms from the fight this morning. Your eyes trailed over perfectly sculpted abs, tracking a dusting of black hair under his navel that crept down and disappeared under dark purple trousers. You reached out to touch him again, tracing slender fingers over the tattoo on his left pec that curled around to his side. A tiger. How fitting. Madara was absolutely the ferocious and elegant beast who knew he was the biggest cat around.

Madara leered down at you imperiously. "Like what you see?" Carved in the likeness of a god, his presence really did occupy the entire area. It was stifling.

You flushed. He was the one who was bound, but it felt as if you were the prey.

You growled at him, annoyed at how he gets you flustered so easily. You brought out a blindfold and slipped it over Madara's obsidian eyes so he couldn't keep doing what he does with his gaze. Madara chuckled darkly. He couldn't be more amused with your attempts to contain him.

Time for you to get to work. You cupped him through his pants, tracing the long outline bulging through. It was already firm to touch. You pressed harder against him, the heat from your hand transferring through the pants and warming Madara’s cock. It was so girthy. Your mouth watered and you decided you played enough. It was time for dinner anyways.

You tugged down the trousers, but was a bit too late. Distracted by your own arousal, you didn’t react in time to dodge the heavy weapon that sprang out and slapped you in the face, leaving a trail of moisture on your cheek.

Precum!

“Seems like someone else is needy tonight.” You snickered at him. Madara was beautiful, with his arms bound, blindfolded, his hard shaft hanging out dripping pre. So stoic, but his other head betrayed his need. You were so hungry for him too.

Flicking your tongue out to test his flavour, you moaned. Delicious. You flickered repeatedly at his shiny, sensitive glans before digging into the slit. You rubbed yourself under your skirt with one hand, the other coming up to grasp Madara.

You massaged his cock while you nursed on him for some time, until you pulled his skin over the crown and tugged at it with your lips, slipping a thumb under his foreskin to tickle his head. You dragged his skin back to retract it all the way before bringing the hood up again. Mmm this is nature’s most fun toy. Taking a breath to prepare yourself, you relaxed your throat to take Madara all the way until you gagged.

Not there yet. You looked up at Madara through watery eyes. His lips were in a taut thin line, his body tense, keeping his composure by taking long, even breaths. If you could see him completely, you knew his brows would be furrowed as he watched you intently.

In truth, Madara’s shaft didn’t taste much. If you had to describe it, it would be a fleshy flavour. It was a thick, steel rod with a slightly musky scent covered in silken skin. The texture drove you nuts. Your nose touched his soft bed of pubes and you tried to inhale Madara again like an addict, only to be reminded you couldn’t breathe properly with him down your throat.

You wriggled the tip of your tongue against the spot where his dick ended and balls began, making Madara hiss. Pleased with yourself, your stretched your tongue as far as it could to lick at the uppermost part of his sack while your fingertips on the other hand drummed lightly on the orbs. Dragging your tongue to the underside of the shaft, you groaned again as you shoved three fingers up your empty hole. The soreness was forgotten for the time being, only the most satisfying stretch registering in your depraved mind.

Your gags and soft moans reverberated through Madara’s cock. “If you’re this hungry, you should come take it and sate yourself.” Finally finishing your feast, you squeezed this sturdy thigh and stood as you remembered you too needed to breathe.

Wiping the back of your mouth, you crept back up while inhaling his virile male scent, leaving small kisses along his belly and chest and teasing his nipples. You licked his collarbone and gave him a peck when you arrived back at his lips.

“No one was asking for your opinion, love. I should have brought a gag for you,” you quipped.

Madara laughed, thoroughly enjoying how this night was playing out. You turned to face your rear towards Madara. Lining yourself up, you mounted him, hot shaft entering inch by agonizing inch. You groaned, your king was so THICK, the stretch monstrous against your abused walls. You wondered if despite your wet walls weeping for his cock you'd be able to walk later.

Madara activated his Sharingan. It wasn't perfect through the blindfold, but the combination of his Sensing and bloodline let him 'see' you more than adequately.

 At last, the heavy scrotum full of potent seed met your inner lips' hug. You flexed and relaxed your muscles to massage your lover's member, loving the sensation of fullness. Heat built in your core the longer you stayed seated.

Breathing deeply, you started the rhythmic dance, rolling back against his shaft slowly. His smooth head gently bumped against your cervix, making you sigh in satisfaction. You went at a steady pace you enjoyed, humming and tilting your hips to gain a better angle within your honey pot.

As he observed you, Madara could feel his sack steadily drawing up. What a sight, having you take your pleasure from him while he was ‘restrained,’ your skirt thrown up over your back and panties pushed to the side as you moved against him. He bucked hard into you, almost toppling you over with the intensity of his thrust, and you squawked, wishing you had something to hold onto. You put your hands on your knees to steady yourself against Madara’s sudden wild rutting against your cervix, your snatch throbbing in spite of her natural lubrication.

"Ah- ah -AH!" You cried, "MADARA, PLEASE not so hard! Softly!"

Madara murmured, "What’s wrong Y/N? Can't handle me?" Once you got him started, Madara would fuck you anywhere, even out here. “Silly woman. Did you forget I still have use of my legs?” And his hips too. He shoved forcefully to remind you.

"Shut your mouth!" You gasped, gritting your teeth. Did he forget what he did to you only this morning?! "This is all your fault!"

“I remember of course. You did well earlier. Hn, you brought it upon yourself, but I shall make it up to you." He slowed his frenzied thrusting to a gentle roll of his hips, until he decided he made the rules. Your frantic mind registered metallic creaking and a SNAP. Madara had casually broken the bonds and wrested off the cuffs. He palmed your breasts, groping them, then pulled you up to him by the tits. He tilted your chin to face him, lightly running his soft lips against your cheek.

Only this morning, Madara punished your pussy severely. For recklessly putting yourself at risk, he said. You eyed the scenery around you. The bodies were gone, but the blood of those enemies still painted the walls behind metal bars. There had been at least 20 enemy shinobi. You were holding them off well enough and trying to escape, when suddenly the surroundings exploded and you found everyone dead. Basically everything was destroyed in the vicinity except you. Madara. He brought you back to the compound and spent the morning reaffirming that you were in fact alive and safe there with him. And teaching you a lesson.

“Kitten, you thought you could hold me?" He cooed gleefully at you. No you didn't. In fact, you didn't think the measly handcuffs would have contained even the most mediocre of shinobi without restraining seals, let alone a legend like Madara. But you had wanted to hold him back somehow. The cuffs were kind of meant to be Just an Innocent Joke! It seemed you ended up exciting him more. Oh no. The ‘danger’ was here with him.

He crowded you as you attempted to back away in alarm. The thought of needing to run crossed your mind as Madara stalked you with a hidden predatory gleam in his eyes until you hit the wall yourself. Madara towered over you. You were the one trapped with him. You quivered in anticipation.

Madara pressed you to the wall, reaching below your waistline to rip off your panties and take a whiff of the crotch. Hn such a silly piece of clothing. He shoved your ruined underwear in his pocket.

He scented your hair and kissed your forehead. Then rubbing his cheek against yours, he picked you up by the back of your thighs and sat you on his cock. He effortlessly bounced you on him, wet hips slapping as he held and fucked you leisurely against the wall.

“I told you before I would take care of you,” he whispered while licking at your exposed neck. Madara was exceptionally hard. You flexed your inner muscles to feel him better and whimpered.

Something about this animalistic coupling got to you too. Here you were, grounded by nothing except Madara holding you against him while he shoved himself into you. You clung to his shoulders and waist, your juices sliding down his cock. You could hear the crude squelching loudly in this space that used to be an alley. You were delirious with need, loving the crazed snarl plastered on Madara's face as you gave yourself to him and he struggled to control himself. His pace quickened as he watched you possessively from behind the blindfold. Your head lolled back. You held him tightly around the nape and clutched his hair.

"Harder!" You keened.

Madara continued to stand there, tirelessly bobbing you up and down. Your weight was negligible to him. It was his turn to take his pleasure from your body as though he were using his sex doll.

"Softer, harder, which is it? Do you want me?" What a tease.

Blushing furiously, you screamed, "Ahhh! Please harder! More!"

"Try again. I know you can be more polite than that." He pulled out until just the tip remained inside.

You clenched your eyes and begged, "Please take me hard Madara. Please give me more of you."

Madara’s hips smashed against yours and he growled, burying your back into the wall repeatedly. You moaned and sobbed and begged for more as you held on for dear life. The experience became overwhelming and you creamed yourself on his cock. Madara fully planned on ravishing you completely. He pounded you until he went rigid and flooded you with cum, rocking you against him as he devoured your lips again. You removed the blindfold and cupped his face in your hands, kissing him back while he spent himself. He looked much more relaxed now, his features were younger and almost boyish. You loved this man and everything he was.

Crimson irises studied you lazily in return. You nipped him on the nose and he chortled heartily. Feeling safe and content in his embrace, you went limp and welcomed Madara's tenderness after the rough ride. It was time to go back for dinner. He carried you home to the washroom and started running the bath as you huddled against him, his warm batter leaking down your thighs the entire time.

It didn't matter how many times Madara took you. Even if your brain told you it was enough, or when your body reminded you of its exhaustion, you wanted to be with your lover. For Madara, you would always bend over to receive him. For Madara, you would always spread your legs again. It was where it was safest and where you were meant to be. Your eyes were heavy after the chaos of the day. Settling against your love, you fell asleep.

~End~

[dmercer91]

are there any big height differences with your au couples?

rae - 5’4, nick is 5’10

nick is not even that tall and he still makes short jokes, someone needs to knock him down a peg

lan - 5’3, luca is 6’0

it’s funny cause landen is luca’s scary dog privilege despite her being like nine inches shorter

blake - 5’7, dawson is 6’0

blake has always given me very 5’7 vibes idk but like this works perfectly cause he’s taller but she doesn’t need to put in any effort to kiss him

charlie - 5’11, jack is 5’11

as someone who is 5’11ish i don’t actually trust that jack is 5’11 but we roll,, charlie likes that jack isn’t a little bitch about her wearing heels, he actually thinks it’s kinda hot

wes - 5’1, wyatt is 6’2

wyatt is very much gentle giant bf to me and wesley loves the height difference. the hugs and cuddles go crazy and she likes to pull him down to her level for kisses

dahlia - 5’0, john is 6’2

in true john and dahlia fashion, the height difference is excessive and advantageous. they both eat it up

jamie - 6’2, mason is 6’7

despite these two both being ocs i needed to talk about the fact that mason is gigantic. the first person jamie’s been with that’s actually taller than her

rylie - 5’8, mackie is 5’11

good height difference for her to lean her head on his shoulder. she likes that he’s a wee bit taller so she can wear whatever shoes she wants

draya - 5’10, luke is 6’2

of all the people i wrote to pull a model, i never thought it’d be lukey tbh but he worships the ground she walks on so it works!! draya loves her awkward lanky bf

robbie - 5’6, quinn is 5’10

robbie’s ex is a tall dude and she kind of always felt uneasy about their size diff so this is perfect for her

cam - 5’4, trevor is 6’0

cam likes to have herself wrapped around him in some way pretty much at all times during the summer so their height diff is perfect

[likesunsetorange]

from chapter 18! i rarely post dol stuff here since i feel like dol was born on twitter haha but i wanna start talking about it more here too bc dol is my baby and it deserves the love too!

Teenage antics had crafted Mikasa into an expert cunningness—a trait that she was almost certain she probably shouldn’t be proud of. She had years of hijinks and foolery under her belt: sneaking out through bedroom windows, devising plans to disable the house alarm, creating well-crafted lies— all to never get caught by Levi in their pursuits of sneaking out to do things they probably shouldn’t have been doing in the first place.

And as a result, she thought these skills would be easily transferable, would have so easily stuck with her into her adult life—but in typical Mikasa fashion, they didn’t. Somewhere over the years she lost the ability to perform a highly executed break in, which was only proven minutes into her attempt to sneak into Eren’s apartment, after he had forbidden her from entering it.

With what she believed to be nimble fingers, she carefully inputted Eren’s door code, 021099, something that always brought a smile to her face no matter how many times she came to his apartment. The ding of the door gave way to enter. Slowly opening the door, she crept into his apartment, careful not to make any excess noise.

She made her way through the entryway, tiptoeing over shoes strewn haphazardly over the floor, Eren, for once too lazy to bother moving them—being trapped in his apartment for the last few weeks giving him no reason to bother with such little clutter. Mikasa felt grateful the soft sound of one of Eren's many playlists had been left playing, making it easier to conceal the sound of her footsteps as she walked through the apartment towards his room.

All she wanted to do was check on Eren before she left for the night—something he explicitly advised her against doing, claiming he didn’t need the extra assistance. But he was asking Mikasa, meaning she would do exactly the opposite of what he asked.

Walking as quietly as she could, she opened his bedroom door, careful to not let the hinges squeak in case he was asleep. She half expected to find him sprawled across his bed like he tended to be around this time of day, but when she walked into his room, she was met with emptiness, the only thing being a mess of sheets and a vacant room.

The lights throughout his apartment were off as well, giving her no indication of his whereabouts, which only started to raise red flags in her mind—where else could he possibly be?

“What happened to, ‘I promise I won’t come check on you, Eren?’” An all too familiar voice called out from behind her. Mikasa didn’t even have the time to allow the chills from being frightened fully register before strong arms wrapped around her, she found herself being propelled onto the bed, the work of no one other than Eren himself.

Mikasa landed onto the bed with a thump, her eyes greeting her with the sight of the ceiling fan, before a familiar sight of green eyes came into view, crawling over her. His hair was damp, clearly fresh out of the shower, small droplets of water falling down his face and chest, a fresh bandage on his bad arm.

“Eren!” She shrieked in between giggles, “You’re not supposed—”

“—Supposed to be lifting stuff. I know,” he said while rolling his eyes playfully. “But you’re—” he paused to poke her side, “—also not supposed to be here. So I guess we’re both doing things we’re not supposed to. Isn’t that right, Miks?”

“Okay, but I just wanted to check on you!” She tried to reason, hoping Eren would understand. The inevitable worry was evident by the look on her face, marked by her scrunched brows and pouty lips, only further prompting the smile on Eren’s face.

“I know, which is exactly what I expected you to do.”

“You did?” She pouted.

All his teeth flashed in a grin. “Cariño, I’d expect nothing less from you—you’re stubborn as hell, you wouldn’t listen to me even if I begged. You’re gonna do as you please at the end of the day,” he laughed, pinching her cheek affectionately. “And you know I have a Ring, right? I literally got the notification when you were at the door.”

Realization began to strike her, cheeks washing rosy. “No wonder you were able to scare me,” she groaned, shaking her head. “Look, I just worry a lot—you know this. Just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left, see if you needed anything or something.”

“I know, I know. And it’s part of why I love you. You care so much, nobody’s ever cared about me the way you care about me, and I appreciate it more than I could ever explain—”

“—I feel like there’s a but coming—”

Rolling his eyes, he continued, “—But I’m okay, you really don’t need to worry.”

Even after the last few weeks, Eren progressively getting better, Mikasa still found it in herself worrying for him. Though she had significantly lightened up compared to the first few days, she still had tendencies to want to ensure his health was in pristine condition, especially today since it would be the first time she’d be leaving him alone. She hated how her mind never liked to be kind to her, always conjuring the worst possible scenarios, but checking on Eren before she left would give her the peace of mind she needed to fully enjoy her night.

“I know, but I just get… paranoid, I guess. But you’re right—I need to chill, I’m being overbearing,” she sighed.

“You’re not, I find it cute sometimes. But, if it makes you feel better, I did everything on your list already, I promise.”

“All the meds?” Mikasa asked, her brow raised.

“Every. Single. One,” he said with an accomplished grin. “Me and that color coded list are best friends, even have it memorized at this point. Gabapentin as needed, finishing my antibiotics, and all the other ones I can’t remember the names of.”

Mikasa felt her gaze soften. Even when she wanted to be worried, Eren always took the worries off her shoulder, even when it was supposed to be the other way around. “Thanks for taking this seriously,” a soft smile on her face as she spoke. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, but I won’t ever get tired of hearing you say it. So indulge in me a bit more and tell me again, please? Think I deserve that much—you did break your promise after all,” he said, attempting to feign seriousness but his playfulness was given way by the dimpled grin on his face.

Despite his silly jokes, it was hard to resist the upturn of her own lips, feeling overcome with infatuation for someone who meant so much to her. She found her hands bringing him close, placing a chaste kiss to his lips, the familiar sensation spreading a warmth only love could bring through her.

“Eren Jaeger, I love you, and I’m very much in love with you,” she said smiling. “And I’m so happy to have you in my life.”

[financeprincess]

Could you talk a bit more about the “mental” part of glowing up? Taking those first steps and being intentional about changing yourself and your life?

A lot of it is about commitment to change and stepping out of your comfort zone. Stepping out of your comfort zone and trying new things, going new places, inserting yourself into spaces you haven’t been, all help break limiting beliefs. Imposter syndrome is super real especially if it’s been bulldozed into you from day one that you have to be the best at everything (speaking from personal experience) and especially if you’ve ever dealt with anxiety it can be tough to get over. I meditate a lot, journal, listen to high vibrational frequencies and bilateral stimulation music, read/write/speak/listen to affirmations, went to therapy for a very long time. Also it’s very normal to cry, I cried a lot when I first started to really change things because I felt like I was grieving an entire life I was leaving behind and was grieving for my past self because she had tried so damn hard to get it together but hard work doesn’t always equal the results you want. Manifestation and reaching your goals is easier in a state of receiving, flow, and ease. Write down how you want your ideal life to be and start thinking of the steps it takes to get there. Use a planner and dump everything you need to into it.

Read as many books as you can about things that interest you, especially nonfiction. Some of my favorites are finances, real estate, technology, biographies, fashion, politics, history, science, classic literature, and philosophy. Download DuoLingo and start learning languages that interest you. Invest in your hobbies. Try whatever you want to try: pottery, dance, horseback riding, painting, new workout classes, photography, musical instruments, sewing, baking, chess, the possibilities are endless.

Stop consuming low vibrational content: brain rotting TikTok videos, trashy TV shows, anything with excessive violence or gore, anything on social media that is exclusively for shock value or trying to illicit attention or controversy. If you’re consuming media you want to feel better or more informed after watching it. I love food and nature documentaries for this reason. Speaking of social media, delete everything you have on your profiles that doesn’t align with who you want to be. Or better yet, delete them altogether and either go ghost or start a new one. Do a dopamine detox and cut out vices as much as you can. Video games, excessive shopping, alcohol, nicotine, drugs, caffeine, sugar, social media, unhealthy foods, gossiping, etc. All of these give your brain a rush when you engage in them, amongst other habits.

Limit or eliminate time around negative people or people who just do not have it together. What kind of people do you want around you? Do these people elevate me or bring me down? How do they act towards me? You have to be ruthless with your personal boundaries because you can’t expect other people to read your mind. Ultimately it comes down to switching your mindset and taking radical personal responsibility for your own life. If you feel a sense of responsibility over everything around you, it will cause you to take action if you are not happy. Positive mindset and radical trust in God is everything too.

[yoke9494]

Candy Coated. (Rindou/F.Reader)

________________

Requested oneshot turned fic. (Rindou /femReader/Izana.) Read the rest on AO3 Wattpad

Attempt at angst

⚠️: MDNI, drinking, being drugged, blood/gore, mean Izana--- Please read first page if you decide to read.

Mitsuya's sister but is not detailed much. Can be read by anyone

___________

You felt sick...

The week felt like it dragged on forever. Your mother picked up double shifts leaving you to watch over your younger siblings. Though they could take care of themselves, you always felt that guilt leaving them alone. Especially when Luna and Mana liked to bother Mitsuya who's been working so hard trying to gain a scholarship to attend his dream school.

**Some fashion schooling in France? You weren't completely sure but you hoped he'd make it..

Not only was home life hitting hard but work killed you as well. You worked part time at a small bakery. Thankful of the old woman who gave you the job so you could help out with bills but... She would not drop the subject of you leaving home and pursuing your own schooling for your "baking talents."

You laughed at the idea.. You weren't perfect. Sure your  simple cookies and chocolates could put a seasoned baker to shame but you yourself could never see it. You saw the good in everyone and everything but you just couldn't see yourself in that same light.

It was something your friends called "the Mitsuya effect". It was also something your boyfriend Rindou liked to tease you about. Supposedly you didn't need to try to be perfect, you just were.. (You weren't though? Or so you thought..)

All you did was try your best at everything that was placed in front of you? But to everyone,sunshine and rainbows just fell out of your ass. It was exhausting...

It was exhausting and made your smile falter. Something Rindou hated seeing... That's why when life got a little too heavy for you, Rin was always dragging you off somewhere to get your mind off of thing.

You had really hoped it was a night in. He'd kick Ran out of their house for a few hours, you'd both watch a movie or something. The both of you would make dinner together and fall asleep in each other's arms...

But this was not one of his finest "date" ideas... You really tried not to blame him. But you didn't understand why coming to a big party that was thrown by Hanma Suji of all people caught his interest.

Rindou told you to let loose, have a couple of drinks, take a few bong hits or pop a few mollies... He'd keep his eyes on you and make sure you were safe.

You knew he would, he always did. But getting drunk and high wasn't your thing? You preached to both Luna, Mana, and Takashi on the dangers of drugs, you weren't going to be a hypocrite.. You knew Rin and Ran had fun but it wasn't excessive.

You stuck to some mixed drink that Ran handed you. He promised it was mostly cranberry juice since he knew you weren't much of a drinker. He may have put an extra shot or two of vodka but it was just enough to get your stressed muscles loose. You kept his little bro happy so of course he cared for you... But he wasn't going to mother you.

Your nose scrunched up as you drunk the red liquid. Completely oblivious to the way Rindou was watching you. His hand sneaking around you waist to keep you close, his eyes blown like a puppy in love.. A small rare smile tugged at his lips when you shook your head at the strong taste.

"Oh my God Ran! Did you pour half the bottle in here?!"

Both brothers laughed before Rindou kissed the side of your head. He'd get pissed at his brother later, but this was a night you needed. Tomorrow he'd take you out and spoil you rotten, whether you liked it or not.

Rindou leaned back and grabbed his cup off one of the small tables by the couches you all sat on. You were so engulfed into a story some girl was telling about Ran's old highschool mischief, probably waiting to see if he would be mentioned. You didn't see the face Rindou made when he downed the rest of his cup.

His drink tasted a little bitter all of a sudden? Maybe if he wasn't giving you "fuck me eyes". He would have seen the girl he couldn't stand walk by and drop something into his drink. He would have looked around the room and seen her staring you down like you were some type of disgusting being.

If you weren't such a lightweight you'd notice her too... A bitter female by the name of Tola. She's hated you for no good reason. Just the fact that you supposedly take everything from her...

You took Rindou, when it was he who asked you out on a date. You turned him down 4 times before you even said yes. He just wasn't interested in anyone else.

The job at the bakery? You took that too! She had experience but you came in and the owner fell in love with your stupid face and fake ass smile... You had a sweetness to you while Tola had a face that permanently looked annoyed.

You were worshipped in school, You had siblings who saw you as GOD, despite already having Rindou you had boys vow they would marry you... You were a bitch and she was the only one who saw it!

For Rindou the room started getting a little fuzzy. He usually didn't get buzzed this fast? He wasn't even planning on drinking a lot? Just one drink while he let you blow off some steam.. What was happening?

Maybe it was because he didn't eat much today? Yeah, that was it... He had a few cookies you made him and continued on with his business. Before he knew it, it was time to pick you up from work.

You felt Rindou pat your thigh. He leaned in to tell you he was going to the restroom and was going to raid Hanma's pantry for something to eat. If he couldn't find anything you both would leave to go eat something..

That was all fine with you. The house was getting hot with all the bodies flooding in. Plus all the smoke was making it a little hard to breathe. Maybe it wasn't too late for your movie date after all?

Ran began to go on about something and you tried to listen. It had been 5 minutes and Rindou still hasn't walked down the stairs... Maybe it wasn't that type of bathroom break? Maybe he needed to drop a duce?

10 minutes went by....

20 minutes.....

30?... 38..

Was he feeling okay? Maybe you should go and check on him? Ran had left with the girl from earlier so that left you alone for a good few minutes. The small buzz from your drink had faded thanks to you only drinking one gulp and finding actual water...

You got up and headed for the stairs. Hopefully he didn't pass out on the toilet.. You'd have to find Ran for help, the older Haitani wouldn't let his little brother forget it.

Once you reached the top you nearly turned back from all the bodies crowding the hallways. Maybe you just missed him?

Suddenly the left side of your body got warm. The smell of weed, hard alcohol, and a little throw up made you want to gag.

You noticed the tattooed hands right away. You weren't really a fan of Hanma, too much chaos in one person. But either way you smiled at him, hoping he'd help you out so you and your boyfriend could leave faster.

You had to scream over the loud music. "Hey Hanma! Great party! have you seen Rindou?!"

His smile almost dropped. "Huh?! Weren't you just with him? I was going to ask what happened?!--Rindou bust a nut too fast?! I could lend you a hand but---" He pointed to a room down the hall.

Hanma loves drama! But he quickly turned to get away from the scene. He felt nothing when girls cried, there fault for picking assholes to fuck with... But he wasn't really looking forward to seeing a Mitsuya cry. Something about that just felt wrong. It would definitely ruin his high..

Your mind was breaking. At first it tried to stay blank. That voice told you Rindou wasn't like that, Ran sure! But not your Rindou..

You mind played all your dates and hangouts in one go. You hand reached for the door..

You could hardly hear anything but when the beat of the music changed you could faintly hear low grunting and high moans..

You shouldn't, Hanma was wrong. You were about to walk into some strangers enjoying one another.

But your brain knew better than your heart... Your brain pushed your legs forward, it made the muscles in your arm turn the knob and slightly step in.

Like a thousand glowing knives pierced through your heart... Your heart told you to look away! Your brain told you to run in there and beat both of them till they stopped breathing.

That wasn't you... Only use your fist to protect those you love.. Right now it was hate and hurt taking over you body. You needed to leave!

You slammed the door but the sounds kept going. They didn't hear a thing!

You face burned as the tears rolled.down your cheeks. Your chest felt tight and your legs felt weak. It was so hot in this damn house! Why couldn't you breathe?!!

You Ran down the halls and tried to make your way out of the sea of people. All seeing your tears fall and hearing the small hiccups leaving your pretty lips.

Most girls gasped at your hurt, having been there too. Some guys and girls felt sorry... Some felt a small sense of humor in it..

Either way you completely ignored the shoulder you just bumped into. You ignored the yell of your name as you passed Ran like he was invincible.

Were you crying? Who does he have to kill? Where was Rindou? Was he already killing he asshole or bitch that hurt you?!

Ran raced back upstairs to see where his brother was. He probably had you run to the car while he dealt with the problem. You were probably sober already so you'd play as their get away driver.

Instead of finding a crowd, instead of hearing the sweet sound of knuckles splitting flesh. He walked up to a few girls whispering instead...

"Was that Mitsuya? Poor girl.."

"That's what she gets for trying to always be little miss perfect. Guess it took a Haitani to humble her."

"That's so mean! What did she do to you?"

"I wonder who he dumped her for? Y/n's really sweet--, I would never if she was my girlfriend..."

"I bet she's model pretty for him to cheat like that?"

"Doubt it."

Ran had to stop and take a second before he turned back to face them. He looked at the girls like they were crazy -- What the fuck were they talking about? Cheating?! Rindou's love sick ass? "Where the fuck is he?"

The girls all stiffened up but quickly pointed at the door on the far left.

Ran wasn't as graceful as you. He slammed the door wide open. Leaving a clear view for everyone out in the halls..

Some chick with the same colored hair bounced her flat ass on top of Rindou. For once in his life Ran felt ashamed of his little brother. He wasn't like this?...

Rindou had his eyes shut tight. His speech was slurred but he could make out your name leaving his mouth followed by small I love you's ... That's when Ran knew something wasn't right.

He'd never put his hand son a woman but he felt no guilt when he grabbed the girl by her hair and tossed her skank ass to the side.

She hit the ground with a loud *THUD* and screamed.

Rindou's eyes shot open. He couldn't wrap his brain around what was happening? Where did you go? Was that your scream?

Whatever Tola out in his drink made his movements delayed. His vision started spinning and he leaned over the bed and began to throw up..

Ran ignored the girls screaming and shook her like a doll. "What the fuck did you give him you little bitch!?"

He dropped the girl when Rindou began to groan. His brother needed him but--

"Y/n?.. Y/n I don't feel right.. I-- baby, I think we need to leave."

Rindou didn't understand that the person helping him get dressed and up wasn't you. It was his older brother...

You were long gone by now..

------------------------------------------

You ignored everything and everyone as you left the house. Which way was home? You couldn't think right---

"Y/n?! What's wrong? Are you okay?!"

You felt your body get turned around. Two separate pair of eyes looked at you with worry. A set of yellow and a set of green.

It took you a minute to say a word. It was so hard to catch your breath. "Rindou-- he, Some girl in the room."

That was all they needed to know. Yuzuha had to hold Senju back by her jacket. She had murder in her eyes..

They'd kick his bitch ass later. Right now you needed them. Your eyes were puffy from crying and the way your breathing was.. Not I lay were you heartbroken but you were having a panic attack... It was all too much that your body didn't know how to handle it.

Yuzuha shook her head and dragged you to her car. She wasn't going to come to this stupid party but Senju convinced her to come out. She had heard gossip that both Haitani's were here so that meant a high chance you were too! It was supposed to end with them surprising you and stealing you away from Rindou to go dance and have fun..

Ever since you started working and dating the younger Haitani, they hardly saw you... They didn't want to see you like this.

Senju held you in the back seat while you cried on her. Yuzuha drove around for hours, playing all your favorite songs just to try and calm you down.

Eventually your tears seemed to run out while you told them the entire story.

It took everything in the female Shiba to not turn the car around and find Rindou to run him over. How could he?!

Senju was already planning on stealing Sanzu's Katana and paying him a visit...

But you came first.

--------------

Little did you know Rindou had sobered up a bit after throwing up all the alcohol and whatever drug was used on him. He frantically walked around his home trying to get you to answer at least one call, one text!

Little did he know that when you bumped into his brother, your phone fell out of your pocket and cracked as it cartwheeled down the stairs before being stepped on by some drunk dude. It still laid in Hanma's house, completely trashed..

Rindou could feel his eyes water. Your voicemail was now full of his messages, he's left about 100 texts...

Just one more time. He'll try one more time.

"Y/n... Please."

**The voicemail you have reached is currently full.**

He gritted his teeth and squeezed the damn thing.

"Please Y/n.. just please."

**The voicemail you have reached is currently fu--**

"FUCK!"

Ran walked in and dodged the flying device just in time. He looked at the small dent in the wall and the shattered phone before looking back at his brother.

Ran's never been heartbroken before. He doesn't even chase his liquor, let alone women. But seeing his brother like this made him never want to fall in love.

He wanted to say something along the lines of... "Get under another one? More fish in the sea?--" He didn't want to admit he was scared that he lost you too.. his sister.. the future mother of all his nieces and nephews..

Instead he walked up to ran who had slumped himself onto their couch. His head buried in his hands.

Rindou jumped when he felt Ran's hand on his shoulder. "Shit! What if shes trying to call me right now? Ran give me your phone."

The older Haitani shook his head. He knew you weren't trying to call...

"Rin, just give her some time to cool down--"

"Fuck you-- I'm gonna go to her hou--"

Ran pulled him back down. "Listen to me.. Just give her some time. Y/n isn't unreasonable when her mind is in the right place. Shell understand when we explain everything.-- Tell you what. In the morning we'll come up with an apology, along with the explanation. Get her some flowers, something shiney? You need rest and so dose she."

Rindou probably shouldn't have listened to Ran's advice. Don't get it wrong, it was good advice! But the problem is, Rindou's heartbreak was a little different than yours. The longer he waited, the more he thought you hated him. The more he thought you hated him, the more he became hesitant to knock on your door...

Would it be too late when he finally gave in because he missed you too much?

Flowers shaking in his hand from nerves. The chocolate you loved so much already ate because he found himself stress eating on the way here. The black box that held the bracelet you were saving up for gripped tight in his free hand, knuckles white, box crumbling in on itself from the pressure..

Sadly it wasn't you who answered the door....

..................