#if i can wear denim I'll wear that over leather

[lexidius]

HEMP.

MYCELIUM LEATHER. CACTUS LEATHER.

PLANT-BASED RUBBER AND LATEX.

WILD BEES that aren't pushed out by INVASIVE SPECIES of domestic bee.

Not every vegan is an animal abusing PETA cultist, OP. The venn diagram between vegans, ARAs and PETA members is not a fucking circle.

Ayoo just to preempt the inevitable dumb takes we’re about to start seeing;

I am PRO-WOOL

I am PRO-LEATHER

I am PRO-BEES

Fuck the idea of replacing durable, sustainable animal products with cheap, flimsy plastic that doesn’t bio-degrade. Agave nectar and other artificial sweeteners are expensive, labor-intensive, and destroy the environment to be farmed.

Do not buy into pernicious marketing campaigns pushed by dickhead organizations trying to stay relevant, like PETA.

[coraniaid]

Trick or treat!

Over the past summer I was working on a Season 3 fanfic in which Buffy and Faith got mixed up in something supernatural while on patrol together during Halloween. It ended up getting pretty long -- the current draft is well over eight thousand words -- but I just wasn't able to finish it. (To be honest, I lost confidence in the actual supernatural incident and I just couldn't bring myself to rework more than half the story.)

I'm pretty pleased with the opening, though: I think I captured their early season dynamic pretty well. Anyway, see for yourself below the readmore [and apologies for the abrupt ending: this fragment wasn't supposed to stand alone when I wrote it]. Maybe next year I'll try to rework this into something complete.

Halloween, 1998

“Remind me again what we’re doing out here, B?”

Buffy manages not to roll her eyes.  Barely.  Not that the other Slayer would have seen her doing it anyway.  Still, it’s the principle of the thing.  She’s supposed to be playing nice.

“We’ve been over this already, Faith,” she says, as patiently as she can.  “Remember?”

Faith’s a little bit ahead of her, striding confidently off into the darkness.  It’s been a couple of weeks since the other Slayer arrived in Sunnydale, and the two of them are still figuring out how the whole joint patrolling thing is going to work.  Except that Faith has already seemed to decide that it won’t ever involve slowing down and listening to what Buffy has to tell her.  Even if she’s been here – been a Slayer – for years before Faith showed up.  For some reason Faith seems to think that she should be the one in charge.

Whenever school ends, Buffy heads to the library to report in to Giles, and there Faith is, waiting for her.  Impatient, bored.  Zoning through whatever Giles has to tell them, then grabbing hold of Buffy and dragging her away before she can even talk to Willow about the homework they both have.  And what does Faith care about that, anyway? She doesn’t even go to school here.  She doesn’t even go to school anywhere.

(It occurs to Buffy, belatedly, that she’s never asked Faith what she gets up to during the day when Buffy is in school.  Or what exactly she’s doing to afford a place at that motel she’s still staying at, even after Kakistos’s goons had shown up one night and trashed the place.  Not that she thinks Faith would deign to tell her if she did ask.  Maybe Giles is taking care of it, she thinks.  He must be, right?) 

Faith just shrugs in response to Buffy’s question.  Turns to face Buffy, but without stopping: which means she’s now walking backwards into the dark, not that she looks at all worried about this.

“Yeah,” she says, casually.  “I know.  That’s why I said ‘again’.”

Faith can’t be struggling for money too badly, Buffy thinks.  She’d shown up at the library tonight dressed up in yet another new outfit.  Black boots, leather pants, a lower cut top than anything Buffy’s mom would ever let her get away with wearing, denim jacket with pockets large enough to hold a stake.  She’s also apparently decided to wear Buffy’s patience as thin as possible tonight.

“Giles says there have been reports of strange things going on out here,” Buffy says, as calmly as she can manage.  “Maybe not entirely of the natural.  Maybe dangerous.  Maybe worth checking out?”

‘Here’ being the Sunnydale Amusement Park … or what’s left of it, anyway.  According to her Mom, the first Mayor of Sunnydale had had it built back in the 1920s to try to attract people to visit the town.  However well that had worked, the Park had only lasted until the big earthquake, a decade later.  The quake that had trapped the Master in the Hellmouth (not that her Mom knew about that part) had done a lot of damage to the rest of the town as well.  It had also wrecked most of the park; and nobody had ever felt like rebuilding it.  All that’s left now is the ruins she and Faith are wandering through.  A few boarded-up buildings, what’s left of a wooden rollercoaster and something that was meant to be a fountain-powered water feature but ended up being a stagnant artificial lake covered in discarded litter and algae blooms. 

“But Di–“ Faith freezes, just for a second.  Looks a bit less cocky for a moment before she collects herself.  “I mean, my old Watcher, she said vamps never came out on Halloween.  Said they thought it was too commercial, or something.“

Di must be the name of Faith’s old Watcher, Buffy guesses.  They’ve not talked about her – or about what happened to her – since the night they killed Kakistos.  Faith obviously didn’t want to, and Buffy didn’t know how to bring it up without pissing her off.  My first Watcher died too, she could tell her.  We’re not that different.  I know what it’s like.  

But what if she said all that only for Faith to just brush her off, or worse?  What if Faith laughed in her face and said it wasn’t the same at all?  At least Faith had been there, for her Watcher.  At least she’d tried.  Buffy hadn’t even managed that much.  She hadn’t even been there when Merrick died.

“Giles told me that before, too,” she agrees instead.  “But that doesn’t mean nothing supernatural can be happening. Vamps aren’t the only black hats in this town.”

Faith looks at her a little skeptically, in that frustrating way she always does.  Like Buffy’s the inexperienced one; the one who needs the facts of how the world works patiently explained to her.

“I mean,” Buffy continues, “Last Halloween some old friend of Giles cast a spell that turned us all into our costumes.”

That’s part of why she’s out here tonight, actually.  Not just trying to impress Giles with her work ethic.  She isn’t exactly in the mood for something like that to happen again.  Besides, it beats being volunteered for something worse by Principal Snyder.

A part of her was hoping Faith would ask for details: that she’d get to show that she wasn’t the only one with wild stories about her exploits, even if none of hers involved wrestling alligators or fighting vampires in the nude.  Faith doesn’t seem too interested in that though.

“It’s probably just a couple of kids looking for a place to screw around,” she says airily, looking around casually.  “I mean, this’d be a great place for it.”

You say that wherever we go on patrol, Buffy thinks (but manages not to say).  Faith really needs some new material.

They’ve made it to roughly the middle of the old park by now.  No sign of anything strange going on.  Just a cluster of crumbling buildings, gazing down with locked doors and shattered windows on the dark water of the unplanned lake.  She can hear the distant sound of frogs and see a few twinkling fireflies further from the shore.  No sign of any of the strange noises or mysterious lights Giles’ had warned them to expect.

“So, what did you dress up as?” Faith asks her abruptly, breaking the silence. “No, wait, let me guess: Supergirl?  I could see you in a cape and a miniskirt.”

She looks Buffy up and down, making a show of frowning thoughtfully.

“Or … I know.  Some kind of fairy tale princess, right?” she guesses, smirking. “I bet you’d love that.  Everyone else scraping and bowing and letting you do whatever you wanted.   Living in a big palace and having everything you wanted in life just handed to you.”

Buffy doesn’t say anything, but she can’t stop her cheeks from reddening slightly.  Why is she always like this? she thinks.  I was trying to be nice.

“I knew it!” Faith crows delightedly, apparently – and, infuriatingly, correctly – taking her silence as some kind of confession.  “You’re so predictable, B.  You know that Halloween’s about trying to be someone different, right? You might as well have gone as a cheerleader.”

“Well, I’m sorry for not dressing up like a … a streetwalker,” Buffy offers weakly, aware she’s sounding a little too much like her mother.  And maybe that would have been okay, if she’d left it there, but a part of her can’t help but adding, much too sweetly, “You know, we don’t all have your fashion sense, Faith.”

“You got a problem with how I dress, Buffy?” Faith asks her, softly, after just the briefest of pauses.

Buffy hesitates.  She has the brief thrill of knowing she’s landed a hit, followed by an immediate feeling of guilt and the vague sense that she’s somehow stepped over a line she wasn’t supposed to cross.  It’s not fair, some childish voice in her head complains.  She started it.

Maybe this joint patrolling thing just isn’t going to work.  Maybe she’s been on her own too long.  Maybe Sunnydale is just too small to be anything but a one Slayer town.  Maybe she should just tell Faith that.

“Look, maybe we should split up for now,” she says instead.  “Cover more ground that way.  Meet you back here in twenty minutes?”

“Fine by me, B,” the other Slayer says cooly, already turning away.  “Try not to have too much fun on your own.”

[amphetamine-keen]

Battle Jacket Tips! Yippee!!

I'm hyperfixating, so be warned that this might be rambly and a lot longer than it needs to be, but I promise these are good tips

I'll try to put all my rambles in small text and if it gets too long, I'll stick it under a read-more-- oh, would you look at that

For starters, what is a battle jacket? Maybe you've just stumbled across this post and have no context, or maybe you're researching bc you think you might be interested in making one, here's a short explanation:

Battle jackets are a popular garment in a lot of alternative communities. Punk and metal are the biggest two that I'll be focusing on, but there's genuinely no limit to the "genres" that a battle jacket could belong to. I don't like country music, but like, if you want to make a country battle jacket, do it! Have fun!

Battle jackets are typically either leather or denim and covered in patches and pins to the wearer's taste. Punk battle jackets might include more political sentiments and DIY than say, a metal battle jacket, but of course, there are no rules, and my battle jackets tend to be a bit of a mix of punk and metal. Remember: There are no rules, these are all just suggestions.

The Base:

A few suggestions for your first battle jacket:

Do thrift your starting garment. If you can't find something exactly like what you're looking for, don't sweat it. Find something "good enough" and get started. That's what fabric dye and scissors are for. DIY or Die is the motto here. My most recent battle vest started life blue and with sleeves. Now it's black with big yellow panels in the sides.

Do get your jacket a little bigger than usual. Patches can stiffen up the garment and make it feel tighter, plus, if you wear it year round you'll wanna be able to put it over your coat in the colder season. I actually have two vests, a warm weather and a cold weather vest. The warm weather vest is a lot smaller so it doesn't hang off me when I'm just wearing a shirt, but I recommend starting with a larger vest and doing the "warm weather" vest as a second project.

Don't buy a premade battle jacket, especially fast fashion. The whole point is to make it to your tastes, so buying a jacket with someone else's patches and pin picks kinda mucks up the best parts of making a unique, custom garment. Also, the fast fashion industry is horrifically exploitative, and supporting it financially isn't very punk. If you've already done so, don't beat yourself up. We're all learning and growing. Take the things you learn and grow from them in the future. That is punk.

The Patches:

The biggest patch on a battle jacket is your "back patch." They're huge and seen as the sort of "keystone" of a jacket. They're not a requirement, but I like them a lot. Usually, the patch is of the wearer's favorite album, or something similar, but they can be anything you want. Tarot cards, art pieces. Go nuts and find something that brings you joy. My first vest was very "traditional" with a Metallica Master of Puppets patch, but my second one has painted + embroidered handprints from all my long-distance friends so I can keep them with me <3

Do buy directly from band websites, or from the merch stands at live shows! That's my favorite way to get patches, even if they might be expensive or have iffy manufacturing ethics because it shows where my vest has been and what it's seen.

Do buy from small businesses and online vendors. Try your local craft fairs, or Etsy shops for patches you like. They might be pricier, but that's just because the seller isn't exploiting factory workers and valuing their own time.

Do make your own patches! I might go more into this later, or on a different post, but there are a lot of ways to make your own patches. Embroidery, paint, stenciling, etc. You can get fabric quarters at most craft supply places for like $3 USD tops or free if there's a local Hobby Lobby. Acrylic paint works, though it might crack a bit over time. Fabric paint is pretty widely available and gives a smoother look.

Don't just buy wholesale packs of patches on Amazon. Like the above point about premade jackets, bulk patch packs are often made in exploitative sweatshop conditions, and Amazon should be used sparingly because even if the manufacturer is ethical, Amazon's warehouses are not. Also like the above, don't beat yourself up if you already bought a pack of patches. I did it too, when I first started, you live and you learn.

Don't wear patches for bands you don't know. I mean, you can, I'm not a cop, but you will look like a poser.

Non-Patch Editions:

I said it before, and I'll say it again. There are no rules. You don't have to limit yourself just to patches to customize your jacket. Have fun with it. Here's a list of options to give you ideas, based on things that I've done or want to do on my own.

Embroider directly on the fabric! I put spider webs and violets on my vests just because I like them and think embroidery is fun.

Spikes and studs!! You can get packs of spikes from lots of places (some more ethically than others) or you can make your own. As a disclaimer, some music venues may raise issues with pointier bits, as they could cause injury to other people, so use your best judgment.

Add other metal bits! Can tabs, lighter hoods, chains, keys, washers, nails, bolts, and pieces of scrap metal are all pretty fun to play around with!

Corsetting. Whether as a resizing measure or just for the aesthetic, get some eyelets and throw some ribbon in there. Could be fun!

Pins! I've mentioned them before, but also you can make your own with some bottle caps and a safety pin. Or repaint buttons you already have. I've kept the same little pronoun pin I repainted with nail polish for almost a decade, and it's still in great shape.

Putting it all together:

These are some general tips for putting all the pieces together, and honestly was supposed to be the whole post, but I like to talk so here we go!!

Lay out everything first before sewing it down. I have ripped up more patches than I care to admit, just to sew them back down on another part of the jacket.

Big tip for the mix-patch crowds, keep all your political patches on the front of the jacket. The idea is, if some asshole has a problem with your opinions, you want to see them coming. You don't want them sneaking up behind you.

Thread. Elder Punks often recommend dental floss for fastening patches to your jacket bc of its strength and rightfully sew (hahaha!). However, if you'd like more colorful options, try upholstery thread. It's super strong, and it's what I use on all of my own jackets. Though, I do keep floss and a needle around for convenient repairs. The box has its own thread cutter!

Needles. If you're like me and have shitty old person hands at the ripe old age of 23, those tiny dollar store needles will make your hands cramp up like a motherfucker. For this reason, I use doll needles. My default needle came in a walmart pack, and I use the smallest gauge, 3 in long needle. The thicker ones are too hard to get through the fabric. It's much easier to grab and easier on my hands.

Thimbles. Even with big-ass doll needles, sometimes it's difficult to grab them well enough to get through really thick fabrics. That's what thimbles are for (not to keep you from pricking yourself with the sharp end). Get yourself one, or improvise something similar, it will save your life.

Stitching. Sew down all of your patches, even the ones that claim to be "iron-on" because in my experience the iron-on adhesive fails pretty quickly. I recommend a whip or blanket stitch, so the edges don't peel up or fray (as handmade patches might). If you're moshing, a lot of folks claim that floss is best because it keeps people from ripping off your patches. Respectfully, I think that's a bunch of horseshit. If you don't want your patches ripped off, make them harder to grab onto. Keep your stitches small and close together so assholes can't get a grip on them. That said, I've never actually had someone try to rip off my patches in the pit or otherwise, so use your own discretion.

Washing. A lot of hardcore crust punks will tell you never to wash your battle jacket, but crust punk isn't for everyone. I wash my jacket every year or so, and it's pretty easy to do as long as nothing on your vest is susceptible to damage in water (I had some early patches that I finished with Modpodge that were ruined in the first wash, so keep that in mind). If you're confident in your stitchwork, just toss the vest in a garment washing bag or a pillowcase and chuck it in the wash with everything else. If you're a little more cautious, it's easy enough to hand wash it in a tub/sink and hang it out to dry. Don't use bleach or you'll probably ruin something.

[yutahoes]

Caramel

(Part Six)

characters: stripper! Yuta x female! wealthy! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, FLUFF, angst word count: 3.6k words summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper. warnings: matured theme, stripper au!, third person POV, mention of self-harm, description of some sexual fantasies (I don't know how to put it), alcohol consumption, mentioned bullying taglist: @cherrymotodude@tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs

Part Five

“Yuta, are you leaving early?” Johnny asked, sitting on the bar with a drink in his hand. “Let’s drink a little.” 

The guy mentioned shook his head, claiming he had to leave first. “Hey, do you think I look fine?” Both Johnny and Ten stared at each other and then at Yuta. “Do I look like I dressed too much?” He started brushing the back of his fingers on his plain white shirt covered by a black leather jacket. “Should I change clothes? It’s too plain, right?” 

“Are you going on a date, hyung?” Ten asked, smiling teasingly. 

Yuta hissed to himself, maybe he had prepared too much. Should he ditch the leather jacket? Change it with a denim jacket instead? “It’s just breakfast.” The two nodded knowingly as he removed the black jacket and wore the blue one instead. “Johnny you’ve been to that new coffee house downtown, right? Is the food there worth it?”  

Taeyong was just chuckling as he tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Just go, Yuta. She’ll like it there.” Johnny was giving Taeyong a ‘who?’ look but the other just smiled at them. “Don’t be too nervous.” 

“I’m not nervous!” Yuta shouted as he headed outside the door. 

The ride to the coffee house was short but somehow his nerves were betraying him. This isn’t a date. It’s just breakfast. He’s not even nervous. He shouldn’t be. 

But as minutes passed by, he started getting anxious. Where is she? She did confirm that they’d meet today and that she knew where the coffee shop was. Is she lost? Should he call her? Before he could take the phone out of his pocket, he recognized the midnight blue car parking in front of the shop. She’s here. Y/N went out in dark jeans and a light purple blouse, wearing dark-rimmed eyeglasses and a ponytail.  

Yuta had to blink in disbelief. He’s going to have breakfast with this gorgeous woman? He must really have saved a planet in his past life. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” She whispered, putting her keys in her crossbody bag. “I woke up late.” Yuta opened the door for her, “Have you been waiting for long?” 

He shook his head, smiling. “I just got here.” The staff by the counter obviously caught his bluff as a faint smile can be seen on her face. She had been eyeing him since he came outside the shop a couple of minutes ago. “I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet.” She shook her head, smiling. “Then order anything you like.” 

The girl nodded before pushing her glasses up. Yuta licked his bottom lip, that was hot. He shook his head. Why is he so easily turned on this early morning? “I'll have an espresso, double shot.” 

“Would you like cream or sugar on the side?” The cashier asked but she shook her head. Isn’t that too bitter? “Any breakfast meal, ma’am?” Y/N glanced at Yuta who only nodded at her, asking her what she wanted to eat. The girl read the meals before ordering buttered toast, “And what will you have, sir?” 

I want this woman beside me, Yuta hissed at the thought. What a pervert. He started ordering a Caramel Macchiato drink before Y/N’s phone rang. She excused herself to take the call and he nodded, following her with a look. He also ordered a chicken sandwich and some pancakes.        

The coffee shop doesn’t have too many customers, maybe because it’s still early. Yuta didn’t even have a problem securing a seat by the window, looking over to the girl by the washing area who was talking on her phone. Y/N started walking to where he was, still talking on the phone. “...I promised you we’ll meet next week, right?” He heard her say, helping her with her chair and she lightly thanked him. “Yes Junyoung, I love you too.” That made him glare. Who is she talking on the phone with? Is she dating someone? Junyoung? When the girl put down her phone, she sighed. “My brother is so clingy.” 

“Your brother?” 

She nodded, “My youngest brother.” Yuta’s face lit up. It’s not a boyfriend but a brother. “I forgot to pay…” 

He shook his head, pushing back her wallet. “I said it’s my treat.” 

“Great night?” Yuta shook his head, sighing. “Why? Is there something wrong with the club?” 

“There’s a new nightclub that opened and they have younger dancers.” Oh, Y/N thought, that’s why there were a few people in the club the two nights prior. “Business is pretty tame lately,” she nodded, then pushed her glasses up once again. “Nice glasses, by the way.”  

She smiled, removing the glasses while blinking. “I forgot my contact…”

“What happened to your eyes?” Quickly, she wore the glasses and avoided Yuta’s stare. “Did you cry?” 

Y/N just flashed him a small smile while shaking her head. Their orders came and Y/N was surprised at the variety of foods on their table. She thanked the waitress for handing her the cup of dark coffee. The smell seemed to calm her and even if it was still hot, she took a small sip. Dark. Rich. Bitter coffee. 

As bitter as her life. 

“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, which made her turn to him in surprise. “You really don’t want any sugar or cream?” Oh, that was what he meant. She was worried for a second that he'd make her cry with that question. “I have some caramel here if you want.” Beside his coffee cup was a small plate of some light brown goo.  

“I like my coffee bitter.” She answered in a soft voice. As bitter as my life, she thought. 

Yuta just nodded. Suddenly, it feels awkward. He shouldn’t have pointed it out. But why are her eyes so bloodshot? It’s obvious that she cried last night. But why? Is he even in the position to ask why? He should shrug it off, she evidently doesn’t even want to talk about it. Her actions are very weird as if she was calculating her every move. Maybe it’s a bad idea to ask her out today. When she reached for the pancake syrup on the edge of the table, he saw a small graze on her wrist. Is she hurting herself? 

Y/N quickly retracted her hand. She knew Yuta saw the small cut and she didn’t want him to ask about it. “So, a new club rival?” She started, “Then what is your club doing to attract the customers back?” Yuta was only staring at her, glaring if she could describe it better. Please don’t ask anything, she begged in her mind. She doesn’t want to cry in this coffee shop. She doesn’t want someone to know these thoughts of her. 

Yuta shrugged. “I think the manager is just happy that both Johnny and Taeyong are still working in the club.” Y/N was thankful that he answered her question and focused on eating. Yuta, on the other hand, was just annoyed. He wanted to do something, to know what happened. But if she doesn’t want to, he cannot force her, right? Maybe he should just make her feel comfortable for the time being. “Maybe the older women are tired of older men dancing and want to experience younger studs for their fantasies.” 

The girl giggled, making Yuta smile. Let’s cheer her up a little bit, Yuta. “You know how older women fantasize about pizza guys and pool boys, right? Younger guys,” he claimed with a shrug. 

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, shaking the image off her head. Yuta chuckled playfully and was about to say something when she took a forkful of pancake and put it in the guy’s mouth. “I don’t want to imagine it.” She whined. She took another piece of pancake, using the same fork, and ate it. 

Yuta licked his lips. They used the same fork. An indirect kiss. But why was he so giddy when they kissed before? God, his perverted mind. There really isn’t a cure for him. “If they scout the majority of our dancers, we might just close down.” 

The girl lightly bit her fork, thinking deeply. “Then why don’t you change your marketing style?” The guy gave her a confused look, “The other club markets their young dancers, why don’t you market yours as the mature type?” Yuta nodded, listening intently to her. “They give the pizza guy and pool boy experience so why don’t you give the same experience but at a different level? A higher-status level?” She truly is a businesswoman. That was what Yuta thought while listening to her idea of marketing the club to rich, younger women rather than the older ones.  

“You do realize that older women make up the stripper market?” he countered. “The traditional busy chairman’s wife pays a lot.” 

“But have you realized that younger women need the stripper market more?” she leaned on the table closer to him. “The newly married women who still don’t want to leave their wild, single life behind.” 

Yuta smiled. He never thought talking about business could be interesting. She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking deeply. “Your club can make a classy event to earn more younger clients.” 

“An event?” 

“Where you market yourself and the services that you could do.” She explained that made him nod. 

Honestly, that was a nice idea. “Both Taeyong and Johnny would be great at that and I can already imagine the money coming from just the two of them.” 

“I think you’ll be great at it as well.” 

Yuta laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not good at marketing.” 

The girl shook her head, smiling. “Nonsense. I work in marketing so I know everyone can sell anything.” 

Yuta shook his head. He knew he can’t. She drank her coffee and he only looked at her in wonder. “Isn’t that too bitter?” The girl chuckled at his worried look. She’s a real coffee enjoyer, no doubt. 

“Then try it. Sell me this caramel.” The guy stared, confused. “Why should I put caramel in my coffee?” 

“Because it adds sweetness to the coffee.” 

“I prefer a bitter coffee.” Her tone was challenging. Yuta didn’t know whether to feel amused or offended that she was trying to prove her point. But with that smile on her face, he felt weak. He wanted to make her laugh at this moment. Wanted her to feel the same way as he was currently feeling, immensely attracted. 

Yuta took the small spoon and scooped some of the gooey caramel from the small plate. “Well, caramel is essentially burned sugar.” he started. “This has a hint of bitterness and since you prefer bitter coffee,” she nodded, “It gives that balance of something you prefer and something that you don’t really like, sweetness. You can change your preference easily just by adding caramel.”  

Y/N hummed as an answer, nodding at him. The guy seemed to think deeply, “Sugar gives you an energy boost, it can also make you happy.” 

“Caramel can do that?” Y/N inquired which made the guy nod. 

She stared at the dark coffee and the orangey goo on the plate. It balances the sweetness and bitterness. It gives an energy boost. It can also give happiness. “I also read somewhere that it can reduce your stress level, something about serotonin.” The guy supplied that made her smile lightly. Reduces stress level. “Come on, Y/N, caramel isn’t that bad. It’s actually pretty indulgent.” 

Indulgent. She took the small spoon and scooped some of the caramel, pouring it on her coffee. She mixed it with her spoon, the coffee turning lighter in color. The smell is still coffee but with the tinge of something sickeningly sweet. 

Y/N took a small sip. Then another. “How is it?” Yuta asked, staring curiously at her. 

Caramel. 

“I think you just sold caramel.” The guy laughed wholeheartedly, smiling widely at her. 

Maybe she just needed some caramel in her bitter life. 

—---

“Why don’t you just ask a driver to pick you up?” Y/N asked as her brother greeted her from the airport lounge. “Do you think I’m your personal driver or something?” 

Jungwoo laughed, handing her paper bags with luxurious fashion names written as logos. “Doyoung hyung said you’re already outside.” he reasoned before raising an eyebrow at her. “Why? Did I interrupt something?” Y/N hated that Jungwoo was smart. Well, not that smart. She still thinks Doyoung is the smartest among the Kim siblings. Jungwoo is more intuitive than smart. “Were you on a date?”  

The two put the luggage on the backseat of the car and took their respective seats: Y/N on the driver’s side and Jungwoo on the passenger seat. The girl had to check her phone before starting to drive. Yuta's name appeared on the notification bar with the message ‘Have you met Jungwoo? Be safe  driving.’ 

“You were on a date with Yuta?” Jungwoo asked while giggling. “Yuta, the bought but not paid one-night stand. Yuta who gave his number but didn’t message back?” Was she telling Jungwoo things about Yuta? How did her brother know those things? Maybe the intuitive side is kicking in. Or he’s just plain nosy. 

So she just started telling him about how Yuta was mugged and that she gave him a phone to use. Y/N didn’t forget to tell her brother that it was just breakfast and not a date as he claimed. “Is that your whole relationship now? You’re his sugar mommy?” 

Sugar mommy? She also heard that term from Yuta. Is that what she was doing? But there’s nothing wrong with spoiling a man who listens to her, a man who drinks with her, and brings her home safely. A handsome man who smells and tastes so sweet. “Am I doing something wrong, Jungwoo?” 

The man beside her just smiled before shaking his head. “Well, you’re not hurting anyone. Is he bothered about your gifts?” Y/N shrugged. He might be. “But every time I see you with Yuta, you seem lighter.” Lighter? The girl stared at her brother in confusion, “I don’t know how to term it correctly but you look happier. Your aura,” he gestured to her whole body. “Is always lighter with him.” 

“If Yuta isn’t bothered by it all, you should keep on seeing him.” he suggested, “Besides he’s handsome, hot, and very sweet.” Jungwoo pointed at her phone screen that had Yuta’s message notification, ‘Message me if you reach home. I’ll wait for your message.’  

Yuta makes her aura lighter. Yuta makes her happier. Yuta is sweet. She might also connect it with him potentially being her sugar baby. 

Can Yuta be the caramel Y/N needed in her bitter life? 

—----

Yuta was watching as Johnny graced the stage, swaying his body along the sensual music for that one regular in the audience. A woman in her late forties, a well-known doctor’s wife who wanted some good time. His friend could easily do this in the private room but she didn’t order a private dance from the stripper, she was a regular customer. The only customer. “It’s really bad.” The manager claimed, making both Yuta and Ten nod. “Even Taeyong isn’t getting the same number of clients.” 

“Hyung, shouldn’t we change our audience?” Yuta suggested, staring at the manager owning the club. “Instead of older women, let the club attract the younger women.” 

The older man crossed his arms, looking at the younger sternly. “Yah Yuta, have you lost your mind? Older women have more money, they're more willing to spend their useless money on you.” He let out a little laugh that annoyed Yuta, “You can’t even charm an older woman, what makes you think you can charm…?”

“Excuse me,” The three guys turned to the owner of the voice. Y/N was smiling, handing some bills to the guy standing. “For Yuta, please.” Ten laughed and the older man left, counting the money she gave. “You let your boss talk to you like that? If that was me, I’d probably be fired from the company.” 

“Your family owns the company,” Yuta claimed, which made the bartender wide-eyed. “What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday.”  

The girl sat on the high chair beside him, facing Ten who asked her if she wanted some drinks. “Give me a light alcoholic drink that kicks in the more you drink.” The bartender chuckled at her specific description and then nodded playfully. “It’s stressful in the company so I wanted to drink. And Ten makes the best drinks in town.” The mentioned guy gave her a look of gratitude and she smiled at him. 

“You and Ten match well with each other,” Yuta whispered, shaking his head. “Ten, can you make me a non-alcoholic drink? I think I have to drive a drunk woman home.” 

Y/N laughed at that. “A driver will pick me up, don’t worry.” She then called for Ten, “Give Yuta the same drink as mine but with stronger alcohol. I want to see him drunk.” 

Yuta had to shake his head. She hadn’t sipped a drink yet but she seemed drunk already. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.” The girl shook her head whispering that it was the contrary. “What happened?” But she only smiled at him.

The girl turned her chair to watch the man dancing on stage. “It’s already this bad?” She asked and Yuta nodded. “That’s Mrs. Hall, isn’t she?” Wait, Y/N knows her? “Her husband is our family doctor.” She’s on a different level really. The drinks were sent to them and she took small sips, nodding. “If the club closes, can I just hire you as a personal bartender, Ten?” Yuta shook his head at that, there was clearly something wrong with Y/N. Yet he doubts she’ll tell him anything. 

The guy just watched as she ordered her third glass of alcohol. Why does she like to drink too much? Is she an alcoholic? What’s weird is that she kept on talking to the bartender and not him. When Taeyong was done with his service, Yuta introduced the two and in her drunken state started talking to Taeyong about how handsome he was and that he looked like an anime character. 

Johnny, who also finished his performance, was just laughing at the drunk girl after she downed her fifth glass. “Okay, I’ll drive her home,” Yuta claimed, taking her shoulder bag and wearing it on his shoulder. “I’ll pay you when I get back, Ten.” He helped her stand up, holding her by the waist. 

With the help of the bouncer, he put her in the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt for her. Yuta chuckled while shaking his head when she whispered, “Take my phone, sir. Call my brother, he’ll pay you.” Doesn’t she realize that she’ll probably get in trouble with what she’s doing?

He thought she was chattier when she was intoxicated. She was very talkative with the guys earlier. But now, as he sailed across the highway, she was sound asleep. Maybe she is too drunk. The valet was quick to help him open the door when they arrived. One staff member of the apartment building asked if he needed assistance, “Could you call her brother and ask if he could open the door?” 

Yuta carried her bridal style but she groaned in her sleep, “I can walk on my own. Don’t carry me, Jungwoo” The staff pushed the elevator button, letting the man enter with her still lying in his arms. “I’m heavy.” 

“You have to eat more, Y/N.” 

Jungwoo was momentarily surprised before he let out a small smile when the elevator doors opened to the penthouse unit. He opened the door wide for Yuta to come in then briskly walked to open the door to his sister’s room. “Did she call you? I’m sorry Y/N is such a bother.” Yuta put down Y/N on the bed gently while the younger guy opened the AC to her room. 

“She drank at the club where I work at.” Then Yuta stopped. Does Jungwoo know that he’s a dancer from a club? Does he know that his sister goes to that kind of club? The other only nodded. The older guy went to the foot of her bed, removed her shoes, and then pulled the blanket up to make her comfortable. “She drank a lot. Do you have any idea why?” 

Jungwoo closed the door to his sister’s room before handing Yuta what seemed like a wedding invitation. “The bride used to bully her a lot in the last year of high school and now, she begged for Y/N to attend her wedding.” Yuta had a curious expression on his face. “In their circle, my sister seemed like the most unsuccessful one. A lot of meet-ups and blind dates but she’s not yet married.” 

“But Y/N is successful.” She enjoys her work and she’s happy with it. She has a nice car and a nice apartment. And she spends obscene amounts of money. “Isn’t she?” 

The other guy smiled, nodding. “She is.” Then what is wrong? “But as a daughter of a rich family, she’s not.” 

Yuta doesn’t understand anything. He’s not a daughter of the family. He doesn't know how pressuring it is. But Y/N shouldn’t beat herself for it. This is society’s fault for setting stereotypes. “Yuta, are you busy on Sunday?” He shook his head, looking at Jungwoo in curiosity. “Can you be my sister’s plus one at this wedding instead of me? I’ll pay you for your time.”  

Part Seven

[urhoneycombwitch]

Rockstar!Eddie x assistant/manager!reader who likes Eddie, because unlike some other rockers, he minds his p's and q's, doesn't run off to god knows where with God knows who at all hours of the night, isn't overly demanding, but the damn boy jist won't let them do their job!

he wants to follow assistant!reader around like a puppy even when they're trying to tell him no! you've got rehearsal and I have to go do xyz! Or trying to go out on a date and assistant reader is like, if I want my salary, I have to abide by the contract that says I can't get involved with the contract and Eddie's trying to use his Bambi eyes like 🥺🥺 but what if we talked about the music? Isn't that still contract abiding? Just, you know, wear something nice and I'll pick you up from your room at 8. And they're like 🙄 you're going to get me in trouble, but Eddie doesn't mind them threatening his ass, because he'll pay their salary out of pocket and honestly, a person in charge turns him on (which is why he keeps pestering so assistant!reader can keep telling him off)

verrrryyyyyy this!!!??

assistant!reader who is totally neurotic/anal about everything, like perhaps seek an OCD diagnosis bestie (but it’s 1990 and no one has time for that!!)

you get hired to drag their asses to places on time but also bc you graduated top of your communications class and can get them into any building anywhere. you and eddie have a whole “do you even know who you’re TALKING TO” routine that you’ve perfected over the years.

It literally took him months to wear you down into not calling him Mr. Munson anymore. you were trying to be PROFESSIONAL while also tamping down your massive crush on Eddie.

it’s a sitch of eddie fell first and loudly but you fell… near-silently. Over the course of two 30-state tours. Bc he’s your CLIENT. You CANT do anything about your little crush. Even IF he flirts with you like it’s his job. Even IF you accidentally walked in on him changing one time and all he did was grin wolfishly at you and asked if you liked what you saw.

morning pre-show meetings w the whole team where the band is half asleep from drunken escapades the night previous but they all show up 9am (mostly) sharp bc they knew Eddie promised to flay them alive if they didn’t make your meeting.

and he’s sitting at the head of the conference room table, boots staggered on the ground, all dark denim and black leather, smoking a cigarette with his morning coffee, looking like he wants to eat you up as you pointedly ignore him so you can get through your little whiteboard spiel

and when you cap the dry erase pen and turn on your heel all efficient to the assembled team chirping “Okay, any comments or questions?” Eddie is raising two fingers in the air casually. And when you call on him with an apprehensive “Yes, Eddie?” (bc you’re expecting pushback on the schedule you’d just painstakingly outlined) he throws you for a loop when he instead says “You’re looking very pretty today, angel 🙂”

Leaving you sputtering, grabbing at some random papers on the table to shakily stack- “Any other comments or questions?”- immediately followed by Eddie raising his hand again, so you tack on “About the schedule? 🙄” and his hand goes down.

and as the marketing head takes over you can FEEL Eddie grinning at you from the corner of your eye and you’re really not trying to give him the satisfaction of your attention but it’s getting harder to deny his charms w each passing day 🫠🫠🫠

[inlovewithalotoffandoms]

Crazy Love

Gil Rizzo x Reader

Fandom: Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies

Summary: You have been hiding a secret from your boyfriend Gil. When he finds out what it is, he's "pissed" that you didn't tell him.

A/N: I mention 'Big Momma's' (From the Disney movie 'Teen Beach') later in the fic, just think of this as an alternate universe or that the movie has already been made (Wet Side story, the movie within the 'Teen Beach' movie). Yeah, anyway, hope you enjoy the fic.

"Okay, what is it? What's wrong?" Gil asked as he leaned against your Locker. You rolled your eyes at him. "I'm fine, okay?!" You snapped. Gil's eyes widened as you snapped at him. "Baby, chill. It was just a question." You sighed. "Gil, I'm fine." "Y/N, come on. You know you can talk to me." Gil was trying everything to get you to talk. "Yo, Y/N you gotta see what David and I found." Your best friend Daniel said as he walked up to you. "Not now, Daniel. I'm busy." You answered back. Daniel just nodded in response and walked away. "Gil, can we just drop this? Please?" Gil stood there and sighed. "Y/N, come on. Talk to me. What's going on?" "Nothing, it's fine. We're fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine!" You stated as you walked away from him and left him there speechless.

As soon as the School Day ended, you went straight to Daniel. You leaned against his car and said, "So, what did you want to tell me before?" Daniel went to the bag in his car and started frantically looking for something, "This." He said as he showed you what it was. Your eyes widened in surprise. "No way!? At the-? With the-?" Daniel nodded his head as he said, "Yes." To all your statements. You squeal in excitement and joy as you hug your best friend. "And you have to tell Gil," Daniel added. You then gave him a look. "No, no, no, no, no, no! Gil, can not know that I can sing. Okay, Okay, Okay?!" You stated in a frantic tone, "Y/N, the more you don't tell him, the more pissed he'll be when he finds out," Daniel replied. "Fine, I'll tell him." You gave in and sighed. "Good, because if you don't, I will," Daniel said sternly.

Later, you were at Gil's place, helping him with homework. The two of you were in silence when you decided to say something. "Gil, I have to tell you something. You promise you won't laugh?" Gil looked up from his textbook, "Yeah, what's on your mind, babe?" "You know how every time you've asked what's going on and I've been snapping at you?" You sighed. "Yeah, what about it?" Gil asked as he cuddled up next to you on his bed. "I-I didn't know how to tell you, but, uhh, I can sing." You confessed as you looked down in embarrassment. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me?!" Gil exclaimed. It was meant to sound happy, but it came off as angry. "I'm sorry, Gil. I know you're upset, and I should've told you. I just... I didn't know how!" You said, tears welling up in your eyes. Gil took your chin gently in his hand and started wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Gil then sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer to him. "It's okay," he said softly. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I'm just really happy that you finally told me." He kissed your forehead.

Finally, the week was over and you started getting ready for the performance you were doing at 'Big Momma's'. Daniel was already there because he was the drummer for the band that plays there. So, Gil, Richie, Potato, Shy-Guy, Jane, Olivia, Nancy and Cynthia were picking you up and taking you there.

You checked your outfit in the mirror one last time. You wore a black leather jacket, a red plaid shirt, skinny jeans and boots. You wanted to look cool and edgy, but not too flashy. You grabbed your purse and headed downstairs, where your friends were waiting for you in Gil's car.

"Hey, you look awesome!" Jane complimented you as you got in.

"Thanks, so do you!" You smiled back at her. Jane was wearing a floral dress and a denim jacket, her brunette hair in a ponytail. She was your best friend since you and the rest of the girls became 'The Pink Ladies'. They always supported you in everything.

"Are you ready to rock the house?" Gil asked you from the driver's seat.

"I hope so!" You said nervously.

"Don't worry, you'll do great!" Richie said from the passenger seat. He was Olivia's brother. He was wearing a band t-shirt and his 'T-Bird' leather jacket. Gil then made Richie move to the back of the car so you could get in the front with him. Which happened rather quickly and smoothly.

"Yeah, we're all here to cheer you on!" Potato added from the back seat. He was also a member of the 'T-Birds', like Gil and Richie. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans and his 'T-Bird' jacket. His nickname came about because no one could pronounce his real name.

"You're gonna kill it, girl!" Shy-Guy said from behind you. He was wearing a sweater and his 'T-Bird' jacket, like the rest of the boys. He was shy around strangers, but very sweet and funny with his friends.

"Thanks, guys. You're the best." You said gratefully.

You looked out the window and saw the familiar neon sign of 'Big Momma's'. You felt a surge of adrenaline as Gil parked the car.

"Let's go!" Olivia said enthusiastically. She was wearing a leather skirt, a crop top and her 'Pink ladies' jacket.

"Come on, we don't want to miss the show!" Nancy said impatiently. She was wearing a jumpsuit, heels and her 'Pink ladies' jacket.

"Yeah, hurry up!" Cynthia said eagerly. She was wearing a T-shirt, boots and her 'Pink ladies' jacket.

You followed them out of the car and into the bar, where Daniel greeted you with a hug.

"Hey, you made it! I'm so proud of you!" He said warmly.

"Thanks, Daniel. You're so sweet." You said smiling

Daniel was your best friend since middle school. He was the drummer for 'Momma's Boys', the band that played regularly at 'Big Momma's'. He had also helped you practice for your performance.

He led you to the stage, where he introduced you to the other members of 'Momma's Boys': Mike, the lead singer; Dave, the lead guitarist; Sam, the rhythm guitarist; and Ben, the bassist. They all welcomed you and the girls warmly and wished you good luck.

You saw the boys sitting at a table near the stage, waving at you and cheering for you.

You took a deep breath and smiled.

"Hello, everyone! I'm Y/N, and I'm here to sing some songs for you tonight! With some help from my girls; Jane, Olivia, Nancy and Cythina." You said into the microphone.

The crowd clapped and cheered for you. "And this first song goes out to my Boyfriend, Gil!" You added as you pointed to where Gil was sitting with the guys so everyone could see and know, who is yours and only yours.

Gil smiled and waved at you, his eyes shining with love and pride. He knew how talented you were and how much you enjoyed music. He blew you a kiss and mouthed "I love you" as you started to sing.

((Just so you guys know, you don't fall off the Stage like Lela does in the movie))

After you finished the song, you and the girls walked off the stage..."AHHH!" You, Olivia, Jane, Nancy and Cynthia (believe it or not), squealed in happiness. "We did it!" You said. "No, you did it, Y/N." Jane smiled. Olivia, Nancy and Cynthia nodded their heads in agreement. You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks as you hugged your friends. "Thank you, guys. You're the best." You said. "No, thank you for being our lead singer. You have an amazing voice, Y/N." Cynthia said. "Yeah, you totally rocked the stage!" Nancy added. "The crowd loved you!" Olivia exclaimed. "And so did someone else..." Jane winked at you, pointing to a familiar figure waiting by the bar. You blushed. "Okay, I'mma go talk, Gil." "Go, go, go!" The girls forced you to go as they lightly pushed you next to him. You gave them a playful glare as they left you alone with your boyfriend.

You smiled nervously as you approached him. He turned around and his eyes widened when he saw you. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you around. "You were amazing, babe!" He said, kissing your cheek. "You're the best singer I've ever heard!" You giggled as he put you down. "Thank you, Gil. You're the best boyfriend I've ever had." You said, looking into his eyes. He leaned in and kissed you softly, making you melt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue explore your mouth. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you, Y/N L/N." He whispered. "I love you too, Gil Rizzo." You whispered back. Gil smiled and took your hand, leading you to the dance floor. You followed him happily, feeling his warm body against yours. You danced with him, feeling his heartbeat in sync with yours. You felt like nothing could ruin this moment. You felt like you were on top of the world.

[ethan-acfan]

"Oh, if a zombie apocalypse happens, I'll just wear denim and layers so the zombies can't bite me!" NO YOU'RE WRONG.

Humans have an EXTREME bite force and strength. The only thing that stops us is the fact that our brains are aware that our strength is fucking insane AND CAN DESTROY YOUR MUSCLES AND BONES IS LEFT UNCHECKED!! So your brain hold yourself back which is why when you experience adrenaline, you see so much stronger then normal. Because that's your true strength.

HOWEVER, a lot of the time when the adrenaline wears off, people leave with cracked teeth from clenching their jaw so hard. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FORCE IT TAKES TO CRACK A TOOTH?? And it happens subconsciously, too, so it's not even full force. Most people aren't thinging "oh im gonna try and crack my teeth!" NO, THAT JUST HAPPENS.

Now, zombies have no control over that. Their brains are liquid mush. MEANING FRESHLY TURNES ZOMBIES WILL BE ABLE TO BITE THROUGH YOUR BONES WITH EASE. DO YOU THINK THEY WILL GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PUNY DENIM?

And if they can't bite through it, they will rip it off with their hands. Now remember, most people, on average, can lift a car when adrenaline is pumping through them. NOW IMAGINE SOMETHING THAT CAN LIFT 4000 POUNDS OF METAL WITH EASE COMING AT YOU FULL FORCE AND FULL SPEED SINCE HUMANS ARE ALSO REALLY FAST TOO. I PROMISE YOU YOUR LEATHER PANTS AND THICK HOODIE ARE NOT GOING TO DO SHIT

[zombisnax]

Hey everybody, I've started a writing project that may or may not be intended to be frerard angst (oh God RPF in 2024) shocker..

This is just a demo an I wanted to gather some opinions from people!

This is my first attempt at a fan fiction, mostly rn it's just world building for our main character (fictional Gerard in this case)

I walk hastily down the wet pavement as the rain pours down on my greasy black hair. I can feel my clothes growing increasingly wet. This is the worst. My head is pounding and I can barely see my surroundings due to my overgrown hair, I really need to cut it soon. I can’t believe I do this to myself. Now I’m piss drunk and I’m definitely gonna pay for it In the morning. I'm a depressed asshole with no control. As I walk up to my college apartment building, trying to focus on where my feet are being planted going up these steps. I reel my head back in agony, realizing it's gonna be a pain in the ass to climb up the seemingly endless flights of stairs. “I’m never getting fucked up at the bar again at this rate, not to mention I have school tomorrow. Great. . .” I mumble to myself as I trudge up the stairs to my dorm room.

I walk up to my room's front door and rummage through my sweater pocket, the sweater is nearly falling off my shoulder completely but I couldn’t care less at the moment. I fumble my keys as I attempt to unlock the front door. A dark figure nudges moving behind me, I glance over out of curiosity and see the backside of a guy who looks kinda short for his assumed age. I mean I hope he isn’t some kid or anything I think to myself, as the assumed “he” is knocking on my neighbors dorm room I realize I’ve been staring for too long so I open up my own door and head inside. I close and lock it behind me and I sigh heavily as all my tired bones catch up to me. I trudge further to the closest spot to lay down. I flop dramatically on my old leather couch that squeaks softly from my movements. My eyelids grow heavy as I soon fall asleep there.

the sunlight hits my eyes through my eyelids as I groan awake. The familiar feeling of my head being used as a bass drum makes my wake even more unforgiving. I move my sweaty body to an upright position and the strain in my back from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position feels like a slap in the face. I try to remember what time it was I came back home last night but effortlessly give up and decide to try and stand up anyway. The clock on the wall tells me I have to be at my first class in the next hour or so. The thought of having to pay attention to a lecture this morning haunts me.

Now walking to my cabinet and fix myself a glass of water, knowing I'll be asking for it later so I might as well get it over with now. being more awake I remember that I'm wearing last night's clothes and I probably reek of yesterday. forcing myself to walk down the hall to my bedroom and my eye catches my pack of cigarettes on the desk near the closet. I try to ignore it for now and open my eyes wider to better examine the clothes I should change into. Afterwards Im clean up my dirty clothes that I just stripped from my body and throw them in a designated pile on my floor. ‘should get that thrown in the washing machine soon. I change out the contents of my pockets from my pants and jacket to my current slouchy skinny jeans and torn denim jacket. In hand now my lighter I remember the taste of nicotine and reach for my pack on the desk. shoving both in my pocket deciding its best not to smoke in the building.

I turn towards my bathroom so I can freshen up. definitely don’t have enough time to shower so I do the basic things first for now. Brushing my teeth; albeit quicker than I probably should have, deciding that should be good enough for society to handle, running my hands through my hair and staring at my mirror reflection just to make sure I got everything right. Just as I thought about leaving for school I turned around back to my kitchen almost forgetting my antidepressants. shoveling them down my throat begrudgingly and grab my phone from the counter and my school bag. It hangs across my body and lands at my hip, the patches sewn onto it scratches on my pants and i'm walking towards my front door to exit the open hallways of the apartments. Just before I open my front door I realize it's the middle of October and usually cold as shit. Quickly i'm pulling out my cell phone from my back pocket to check the weather. “Shit. Perfect” its 40 degrees outside and i'm a sucker for any opportunity to wear a scarf, I pick one out from my hat tree that’s basically just full of a bunch of scarfs. Now finally ready to step outside.

The chill air hits my face, the sky can be seen from the right staircase exit. It’s a violent orange and yellow glow peaking in weaving from the dark October clouds. I start my commute to the nearest coffee shop. God knows I need some caffeine right now, my head is still practically  exploding.

[4kennels]

Happy Tails Grooming

Brett and Mike my “new masters” jumped out of the cab of the pick up truck and come around to the back and open the wire gate of the large pet carrier, cage.

Mike pulls out a leash and attaches it to my collar. The pull me out and tell me to stay on my hind legs until they command otherwise.

As they tug me we walk across the parking lot toward the front entrance of a business called the “HAPPY TAILS GROOMING.” Brett and Michael chat and chuckle along the way as I follow silently behind looking straight ahead, ignoring the murmuring from the milling shoppers who notice our arrival, as best I can.

But come on... this is easily the highest level of humiliation I've ever experienced. I am dressed in a black leather dog collar, a pair of daisy-duke denim shorts, a t-shirt with DAWG printed in large letters. Thevt-shirt has been cropped off just below my pecs, i am wearing flip flops. I am being lead by a noisy silver chain leash.

Then a shout from my left takes the humiliation to another level,

"J. C. Webster? I can't believe my eyes!

J, C. is that you? What happened, dude, bad batch of weed?"

I don't want to look, but it's a reflex thing and I turn my head to the left, effectively confirming that it is indeed me...

Mike says “…yes, it's J.C. Webster almost naked in girl's jean shorts that are so small they don't even cover his bush, dog collar around his neck, and lady's flip flops complete his outfit; lovely!”

I'm also the only individual who isn't wearing a normal shirt or top of some kind. And normal masculine shorts.

Brett: “Yes, it's him... say hi, J.C.”

Oh God! I'll never be able to show my face in Atlanta again. The guy who shouted to me is Neil Bankers, my former next door neighbor at my pre-bankruptcy home. He's shorter than me so I always beat him at one-on-one basketball and afterward I wasn't a good-sport about it either, taunting and mocking him and so forth. So, oh yeah, he'll definitely be happy to spread the news in my old neighborhood about the new me.

He's with his buddy, Dwayne Jackson, who calls over, "Woof, woof, grrrr!" and people, that none of us know, laugh out loud and point me out to those who haven't spotted me yet. That's followed by other mocking catcalls, but my eyes are burning from the heat of my face and there's a hollow echoing in my ears, so I don't register much of what is yelled in my direction. When we finally walk into the dog grooming shop everyone laughs even louder... me wearing a dog collar going into a dog grooming shop...

ha, fucking, ha! Ya know, I can't ever remember seeing Mike enjoying himself this much... ever!

Inside Happy Tails Grooming there are a number of people talking among themselves waiting for their groomed dogs to be brought out to them. All talking stops when we walk in, silently everyone openly stares at me. My entire body is blushing and there's no place to hide. It's deafeningly silent now and I get the most intense urge to adjust my package, but don't dare. In the silence time crawls to a standstill and all I can hear is my heart beating and a noisy- nose-breather who turns out to be an old guy standing to my right.

This old fellow finally touches my shoulder, and asks, "What are you?"

Good question.

I ignore him as a huge bear of a man comes out from behind a door to my right, he's leading a beagle and a collie on leashes. Both dogs obviously have been recently washed and groomed. A booming voice from the man, "Here ya go, Robert. Snooky is beautiful again."

He hands the dog's leash to the rude old man who'd asked me what I was, then the Bear of a man booms out, "Here ya go girls, Icetea is ready to go home," and hands the leash of the beagle to two butch looking ladies who smile and give Barry a thumbs-up. "Please pay at the register ."

Then, to the remaining woman, "Pearl is ready too, I'll get her for you."

Turning to us, He speaks loud enough so everyone can hear, "Let me guess... which one of you needs a wash and a cut," and he laughs in a boisterous, but friendly way, as Brett's saying, "I'm Brett Knight, remember me; Junior's brother?" He takes hold of the leash attached to my collar, and now in a whisper all could hear,

"How could I forget you or your brother, buddy! You boys brought that long haired man to be groomed. Your doggie play is right up my alley. What is your pup’s name?”

Not having named me or called me anything but DAWG, Brett and Mike consider and exchanged options.

Finally Brett said “Fido.”

The big man continued, “This one will take about twenty minutes. Do you want to come back... or do you want to wait."

Brett says, "We'll be back," and they leave.

Barry grins and orders, "Down boy and I'll walk you into the washing station."

I'm so used to getting down when told to, I do it and the person waiting for Pearl gasps, as the big man, who's apparently Barry, is saying, "I'm kidding with you, boy! Get up."

I get up pretending I was kidding too, and follow him inside. Well, what the fuck... he does have me on a leash.

Inside the grooming space there's that unmistakable smell of dogs, and that unpleasant strong smell of the perfume in dog shampoos.

Barry says, "Strip, and I'll lift ya into that big tub at the end so you can soak."

There's a medium size dog in the tub next to the big one, he's looking at me with his ears pointing up.

Naturally I hesitate... I mean, "Get undressed, are you shitting me?" I'm smiling, like I get the joke, but he's sincere this time, and says,

"No, Fido... this time I'm not kidding. Unless bathed properly, I won't groom a dog, no matter from the human species or canine species! And, no offense, but you smell like a toilet."

That goddammed dirty rag Mikey used on me earlier! Still, I'm hesitating because this is so far from real life experiences that it boggles my mind.

He's nice about it when he says, "Make-up your mind, buddy... I've got a lot of grooming to do before eight o'clock tonight. I'm good with this kinky stuff, I'm down with and my boyfriend and I dabble in it ourselves. You'll either go along with Brett's wishes, or you won't... I don't force anything on anybody. You need to want me to do it, before I'll do it. Okay?"

What can I do? Brett and Mike have already gone, maybe Brett didn't know about this naked bath... what the fuck, I'm not going to give him an excuse to whip me again. Resigned once more to my fate, I pull off the flip flops and peel off my t-shirt, saying, "Yeah, let's do it."

Barry takes over and starts to unbutton the daisy dukes. I impulsively attempt to stop it, but he is in control, saying laughingly , "Don't worry, I've seen penises before, on you dogs and even a man or many and, frankly, penises aren't much different from breed to breed."

His eyes briefly get big when he checks me out. This unbelievably embarrassing situation has shrunken my dick to the size it was when Brett swatted it with the fly-swatter. He bites his lip, then real quietly murmurs, "Okay, we got ourselves a real little puppy/baby boy here."

As the color of my blush darkens and spreads to my chest, he puts a large hand at the back of my neck, then stoops down to gets his forearm under my knees and picks me up like I weight five pounds.

'Humiliating' simply doesn't cover it.

Without any noticeable strain, he holds me away from his body and then a boy comes in the backdoor... Barry stands there holding me, smiling at the boy. He's about twelve, a shocked expression on his cute face as it registers that a five foot-eight-inches-tall man with a tiny dick is naked in Barry's arms. There's no apparent fucking end to my humiliation... 'humiliation?" there has to be a stronger word than humiliation to describe this stuation. My whole body turns red.

Barry says, "Oh, hi, Roy. Just a sec, buddy..." as he's taking three steps to the big tub and then sits me in the doggie bath of luke warm water. Roy stares at me like he's just seen a space ship land from outer space, but I can't look back at him. The water I'm sitting in smells strongly of dogs and that peculiar cloying smelling dog shampoo I mentioned earlier. Now I'm surrounded by it as I sit on the bottom of a large dog's bathtub with my knees up and out of the water, water reaching up to my nipples. There are soap suds and other unidentifiable matter floating in the water making it too cloudy for me to see to the bottom. Many different kinds of dog hairs float on top of the water sticking to the suds and to me. The skanky water, the dog hairs, plus the small matter of a twelve year old boy gawking at me sitting naked in a doggie bath, combined to have me on the verge of puking, but I pull myself together. Gravel or something like gravel on the bottom of the tub is prickling at my buttocks, and it's totally gross!

Roy, still staring dumbfounded at me, says, in a monotone voice, "I'm collecting for the newspaper, Barry."

Ignoring Roy, he says to me, "Would ya stand-up for a second, buddy? I gotta grab that bungee cord down there somewhere."

I slowly stand up and Roy gets a second look at my shriveled dick. He looks up at me and I look away, then glance back to see him pointing at my penis, then pulling his hand back to cover his mouth, laughingbquietly. I'm surprised my fucking head doesn't burst into flames I'm so embarrassed.

Barry is clueless, he pulls a bungee cord up from the bottom, saying, "I'm busy now, Roy; can ya ask Steve at the register for the money, I'd appreciate it, honey."

Roy says, "Um, sure... why you washing a man in the big dog tub?"

Barry laughs, and says, "He just wanted to try it, honey... you run along now."

I glance over at him and when he sees me looking he points to my crotch, and then back at me holding his fingers an inch inch apart and I again avert my eyes gasping.

Roy giggles... I hate giggling! He leaves the shop walking out the door Molly and I came through a couple minutes ago. I can hear him saying to someone, Molly's grooming a tall naked man with a one inch teenie weenie." Tears of rage form in my eyes... how much humiliation can one guy take?

Barry is humming a soothing sound, unconcerned about the interruption, he quietly says, "Let's get you secure in here so you can enjoy your soak."

Pulling a thick bungee cord from the other side, under my knees, and then pulling on the cord raising my knees further out of the water, she attaches thebcord to this side. Elevating my knees like that would have dunked me backwards under water except Barry anticipated that and got his big hand behind my neck just in time. He then strings another bungee cord lower, just in front of my ankles, pulling my ankles back and I'm pretty much secured in place.

My face is still hot and red from my encounter with Roy, but logic tells me I'll never see him again in my life so I'm willing myself to put it out of mind. Barry's oblivious to my distress; he sweetly asks, "Can you hold onto the sides for a few minutes yourself, puppy? I'll be right with ya soon as I finish Lance. You just enjoy soaking in there for a while, okay?" He's being very nice about everything, but "COME ON!!" I'm naked in a fucking dog bath, for christsakes, and this place is as busy as Grand Central Station!

Lance is apparently the poodle in the smaller cage. Barry carries him to the grooming table and hooks a slip collar around the pouch's neck, then a bungee cord is stretched just under his belly in front of his hind legs. The dogs been washed and dried already, his white hair very clean looking and fluffy. Barry wastes no effort, everything is done efficiently, but not in a hurried manner.

He likes what he's doing, I guess. Music plays in the background although Barry himself is mostly silent except for calming sounds he makes as he handles the dog. He cups the poodle's snout to manipulates the head as he uses clippers to groom the dog in a typical poodle cut. First the bare clippers get the belly and back and parts of the leg etc. Then, a clippers over comb method is used to evenly cut the longer hair areas. It's a silly looking cut if ya ask me, but it's what the dog's master wants.

Brett left instructions for my grooming too, "Not shaved Barry, but down to the scalp. A buzz cut."

He'd said, "You got it, buddy!" So that's that; and, ya know what... after a while you can accept just about anything. It's like I told Mike..."Boys like Me, who get bullied all the time, begin to accept it and even think they somehow deserve the bullying. Nothing specific, just that they deserve to be dominated and humiliated." That's pretty much where I am now, I guess.

Brett just overwhelms my senses, one outrageous humiliation after another. It's never over and now there's Mike to contend with too, a tag-team match... and as a result, here I am getting groomed at Happy Tails Groomers.

Barry takes about ten minutes with Lance. While he's grooming him, me and the pointy eared dog in the bath next to mine, watch his every move. As I said,

Barry's a large man. He's almost a foot taller than i am and almost three times as wide as I am, with huge hands and thick wrists. Done with Lance, he pets him and is tender with him, cuddling with him like i wish i had someone do me. Lance, contented and happy, yips a couple of times and is then put back into a cage where he immediately lies down and goes to sleep.

Barry pets the pointy eared dog sitting in the bath next to mine and murmurs comforting sounds to him before finishing with, "I gotta do this big puppy first, hope ya don't mind, Butch ," as the dog focuses on Barry's every word, looking alert. Then, before he can begin washing me a bell sounds and he goes out front to see what's up. He's a loud talker out there and I can hear him talking to the owner of her next grooming appointment.

A minute later Barry's back leading another medium size dog, of unknown breed, into the cage next to Lance's. Lance immediately wakes up and the two dogs go about smelling each others asshole through the bars.

Barry plucks the sponge from the tub he washed a dog in earlier, squeezes doggie shampoo onto it, and drops it into my bathtub, saying to me, "Pinch your nose closed, puppy, I'm dunking you under." With unhurried, smooth movements, he places his meaty hand partially behind my neck leaving his thumb over the front of my shoulder, I got my nose pinched closed as he knocks my other hand away from the side of the tank and firmly pulls my torso down dunking my head, shoulders, and chest and stomach into the yucky water. I'm submerged from the top of my head to just above my dick with my thighs, knees, and most of my calves out of the water draped over the bungee cord. I'm holding my breath for all I'm worth with eyes tightly closed. Barry's using the dog-bathing sponge in his left hand to scrub my face and head, then behind my neck and shoulders. Long strokes under my arms and down my sides. He manipulates my body with the one hand shoulder grip and at one point my head comes up near the surface for a second and then is forced down again as the sponge forcefully scrubs my chest. I desperately need to breath and try sitting up using the bungee cords for leverage, but my stomach muscles are no match for Barry's hold on my shoulder. The dog hair and germ infected soapy/shampooie water feels almost greasy and I force myself not to think about it. Barry methodically wipes the sponge over my torso, then reaches under to get my back. A few more swipes over my head and she pulls me up. I come out of the water gasping for oxygen, sputtering and spitting out water that slipped past my lips, "How many dogs get washed in this water before he changes it, anyway?"

But, oh man, it's so wonderful to be able to breathe again. My whole body, covered in dog hairs, is tense as my heart pounds and my chest heaves, but at least there's oxygen available to breathe.

Barry continues to be unconcerned about any of my many distresses; apparently dogs get panicky too and he's used to it. Being sure of his skills he remains calm, quietly making soothing noises and then soothingly says, "You're fine, puppy... no worries. Oh, did Barry keep ya under too long? If I did I'm sorry. Arms out in front, please... and don't worry so much, I've got ya, you're safe."

He squeezes the back of my neck and continues with, "This is fun for me, doing you boy puppies, I mean... and especially one as cute as you. Never fear though, I'm not going to hurt you." He adjust his palm behind my head supporting me and that, plus the way he talks, has a very calming influence on me and there's something trustworthy about him too, so I loosen my death grip on the sides of the tub and hold my arms out in front of me as he requested. Barry uses the sponge to wash up and down both arms, then extra scrubbing on the palms of my hands which are dirty from walking on all fours. Leaning over me he reaches the bottle of doggie shampoo and squeezes another good amount on the sponge, all the time easily holding my head out of the water with his other hand. He says, "Relax, okay? What's your name, cutie?" Falling under his control I all of a sudden feel like a little boy, I squeak out, "J.C. Webster," sounding like a little kid. He goes, "Well, relax, J.C., or maybe i should call you FIDO. I've got control of everything, can't ya tell?" I mumble, "Yes, sir, ah... do you expect anyone else to come through? It's kinda embarrassing." He goes, "Probably not, but what's to be embarrassed about. Roy's seen naked males before, I'm pretty sure."

I'm thinking, "Getting washed and groomed in a dog grooming salon? I don't fucking think Roy's seen that a lot!"

And he says, "What's to be embarrassed about?" Is he out of he fucking mind?! Anyway, he doesn't appear to have a mean bone in his body, plus he has a calmness about him and he's nice, so I lay back against his hand and let my arms float among the dog hairs and, whatever else is floating there, and more or less just surrender myself totally to his care. "Good puppy" he purrs, "Let Barry take care of you. Okay, puppy?"

Now I'm in one of those trances, feeling like I'm in a dream, like I'm floating on air. I'm also getting kinda used to the strong odor of the dogs and their shampoo by now too so I let myself drift off into Barryworld, mumbling, "Sure, it's okay, thanks sir. This is nice." And, this mood he's put me in is nice... he has such a calm manner about him, it's no wonder dogs instinctively trust him. It's peaceful knowing he'll be kind to me too; so different from the way I feel when I'm under Brett's or Mike’s control. Using the sponge, freshly covered in doggie shampoo, he washes my groin area with me opening my legs wide giving his full access to my little pecker and long scrotum, she murmurs, "Good boy, let's get your hiney now, okay?" I go, "Okay, Barry," as he's reaching under me running that sponge back and forth in my crack, them he's rubbing the sponge all over both my bubble butts, then the back of my legs and up to my knees. A few more swipes over my asshole, Barry smiles, and in baby-talk, says, "Let's make sure Barry cleans your bumper real good." I smile back at him as I drift off into space.

He moves to the front of the tub to finish washing me so I again hold onto the sides keeping my head above the dirty water. He washes my calves and then my feet. "You have nice big feet and long toes!" he quietly says, as he's wiggling my big toe. I smile at that too; it's wonderful being under the control of someone who's nice, who's kind. Barry drops the sponge into the tub and takes large nail clippers off a side table. Holding my foot out of the water by cupping the heel in her palm, she cuts my toenails down to the quick. The nail clipper looks like a regular one only stronger with a spring to help cut through tough dog's nails. They cut through my toenails like cutting through nothing at all. Finished with the nail clipping of the first foot, he massages it, digging his thumbs into the arch until it almost hurts, but not quite. When the water presses against the top of my toes it feels funny. I've never had my toenails cut down this far before; the sensations of the water against new toe areas is strange. He finishes with my other foot and is now holding one of my wrist in his large hand cutting my fingernails the same way he did my toenails. After he cuts them, my fingernails are so short only the pink part remains, looking like they have pale pink nail polish on them.

Finished both hands, he unhooks the front bungee cord and casually picks me out of the water, his arms under my knees and his other meaty hand behind my neck; I like the way Barry's carrying me. It's like I weight nothing at all and I feel like putting my arms around his neck the way I did with my daddy when I was a toddler... but I don't.

Looking back at the tub and the dirty water, I see my finger nails floating on top of the water mingling with the dog hairs. Dog's toenails are probably dense enough to sink slowly to the bottom of the tub and could be the prickly things I sat on when first put into the doggie bathtub. "Pinch your nose again, puppy. We've going for a dip in the rinsing tank." It's a large deep plastic container that looks like a small above-ground pool. I pinch my nose with both hands, squeezing my eyes shut tight, like a three year old might do before being dunked in the pool by his mommy, "Wheeeee!" He dips me in, totally submerging me with water up to his muscular shoulders. Then up out of the water, then right back down into the water again. Pulling me out entirely now, me dripping with water, still some dog hairs clinging to me, but cleaner ones this time. Thinking this wasn't all that bad, I wipe the water out of my eyes and open them to see two girls and a guy come in the same back door Roy used. All of them are about twenty years old, maybe a year or two older. The girl points at me, and says, "Oh my God! What the hell, Uncle Barry? Ya taking in the homeless now?"

They all laugh nervously as Barry's setting me on the drying table. I'm on all fours because that's the way she set me down. My dick shrinks even more, to a bare nub, and my face is glowing red, the heat on my shoulders is uncomfortable... all from my blush. The three unexpected guests slowly walk around the tank to get a better look, as Barry says, "Oh, hi, Cheryl. Cover your eyes, honey, or you'll embarrass FIDO."

Barry's hooking me up the same way he did with the poodle; a slip collar around my neck, pulled tight. I'm comatose by now and anything anyone says sounds like a repeating echo. I look straight down at the table top without moving a muscle, hoping perhaps if I don't move no one will notice me. Barry's movements continue to be unhurried and efficient, and as he stretches a bungee cord under my belly down near my groin and another one over the back of my knees, he says,

"He not a homeless person, just one of you college kids goofing around with some friends... a dare of some kind. A kinky dare and you know me and kinky, don'cha, Cheryl. We go together like bread and butter."

I can't move forward or backward, completely immobilized and my brain is frozen, while my body's on fire. Each second feels like an hour!

Molly takes what looks like a Q-tip, but larger, and swabs inside each of my nostrils, I try to move my head but the collar just tightens on my neck, my head barely moves.

He goes, "It's okay, relax, FIDO," then to Cheryl, "What can I do for ya, honey?" Cheryl's beside her uncle now; to entertain her two friends she's straining her neck taking an exaggerated look under me at my almost non-existent dick. Without answering Barry, Cheryl directs a question at me instead, "Did you have an accident with your penis, or something? And your bag of nuts, what do ya call that? It's long." One of the boys says, "Scrotum, Cherly... it's the god-damnest scrotum I ever saw." The boy and the other girl come over to peer at it. The other boy says, "I knew a kid in high school who had an infantile penis like this, but not this small." Then to me, he asks,

"Whadda you do, lay across the toilet when ya gotta pee?" Barry's like, "Shhh, enough of that naughty talk! You'll hurt his feelings." In my head I'm counting to one thousand as fast as I can blocking out whatever these horrible college students are saying. Around one hundred I lose count and hear the first boy say,

"Uncle Barry, come on, we wouldn't embarrass anyone for the world, but that scrotum is destined for the carnival. You know, pay an extra dollar to see the world record holder for longest scrotum behind the curtain." Cheryl's persistent with her question, and she reaches over to poke my one inch dick, asking me again, "What happened?" I couldn't talk, I'm only capable of making whiny sounds as Barry says, "Okay, Cheryl your friends are embarrassing him now. Stop it! Look how red he is right down to his bumper. What can I do for you?"

As he's chastising Cheryl for embarrassing me, he inserts a thumb into my mouth and pinching either side of my jaw bone with her other hand forcing my mouth to open, then plugs it open with a rubber stopper and checks inside with a penlight. The three college students snicker and talk quietly behind their hands, then laugh in bursts. Barry clicks on a large electric tooth brush and brushes my gums and teeth with it, as Cheryl's going, "Ewwwww. Do you use that on the dogs?" Molly says, "Enough, Cheryl! Why are you here?" Cheryl giggles, then asks, "Can we borrow your Jeep for a few hours? We'll have it back by the time you close." Cheryl's right... the toothbrush is undoubtedly the same toothbrush she uses on the fucking dogs; why would she have one for humans? This, the college kids and the doggie toothbrush, is really too much and puke rushes up from my stomach. I gag stopping the puke at the back of my throat as

Barry recognizes the situation and forces my head back and up at an awkward angle, stopping the vomit from getting into my mouth. "Now you've upset him, Cheryl. Don't be such a bitch, okay." He said it in a sweet way though, not angry, as he continues the dental hygiene part of my grooming. As the big dog toothbrush twirls on my teeth at the back of my mouth, near my throat, I gag repeatedly but he has my head totally immobilized and, as usual, ignores my discomfort. "Okay Cheryl, you know where the keys are," then to the boy "Artie, would you hold his head in this position for me a second, I need to get a tool to scrap some tartar off his back molars. Artie laughs, but says, "Yeah, sure," and grabs my head twisting it further up, neither of us speaks as Barry scrapes my back teeth with something that feels like a chisel, then sprays water from a bottle into my mouth and a doggie mouthwash refreshes my breath.

Barry looks inside my mouth with the penlight again, as Artie says to no one invparticular, "This is without question the oddest goddamn thing I've ever seen," and everyone, including Barry, has a good chuckle over that. Just when I'm positive my ass is going to catch on fire with humiliation Barry tells Artie he can let go of my head, he gives one painful final push up and then releases me.

I've a pounding headache now and the vomit's right at the back of my throat. Barry says, "Hey, he's just a curious kid who wonders how a dog feels getting groomed. Go on all of you now, let me finish up with this big boy." Then it all caught up with me and I did throw up in my mouth... not a good thing. Little by little I swallow the puke at the back of my throat as Barry pets my head making some of those soothing sounds he'd made while grooming the poodle, as the three uninvited guests leave, giggling and laughing out loud, Barry says, "Sorry about that, J.C., but you don't need to be embarrassed. You can't help it if you have a one inch dick." As if that's accurate or is all there is to it! Good grief, he's awfully nice but out of touch. Come to think of it, I guess he'd need to be out of touch to dog groom a college student.

Molly, with me still secured to the drying table, goes through a series of massages and rubs that, along with her soothing voice, manages to calm me down. They're nobody here but me and Barry now and that's such a relief! Barry murmurs, "That's a good boy,"as he goes back to work, this time swabbing my right ear with one of those big q-tips, then the other ear. Throwing the swabs away, he gets a larger one, dips it in some cream and walks behind me to swab out my asshole. My body jerks, and he quietly says, "Almost done," as the swab twirls inside my hole,

Then further up until it's twirling on my prostate making my dick twitch and was really arousing me. I was breathing heavily

“With puppies we have to expess the dogs anal glands. Is puppy okay?

I was starting to drooling and approaching an orgasm when out comes the swab and into the trash it goes.

It's all so mind-blowingly bizarre, but it feels good and we're along so I fall back into a serene trance... so grateful I'll never see any of those college kids again. It's peaceful and I'm grateful for that. Ripping open a sterile pad, Molly pours something from a brown bottle on it, then reaches under me and pull back the foreskin of my little cock to wipe the head with the pad. I hop a half inch off the table and he gently pats my ass, making those calming sounds again.

Turning his finger over, he wipes inside my foreskin all the way around, the liquid feels cold. "That's a good puppy," he coos, as she tosses the sterile pad in the trash. Patting my head, he quietly says, "I'll get you dry and then you're ready to be groomed." Flicking a switch on what looks like the world's biggest hairdryer causes it to nosily blows a huge amount of warm air over me. It's like being in a wind tunnel. As my body dries, the doggie hairs stuck to me dry as well and are, one by one, blown off my skin and up against the back wall to drift down joining other dog hairs on the floor from earlier washings.

As I'm being dried, Barry washes Butch, who has patiently waited in that medium size tub next to the one I was in. Butch observed every move Barry made while washing me and when he picked me up and brought me to the rinsing station the dog moved to the other side of his tub and watched every move Barry made there too. Butch now gives all his attention to Barry as he's bathing him. The dog's infatuated with Barry apparently, and so am I. He washes him just like he did me except the dog is only about one sixth my size and he doesn't tense-up like I did, so it went much faster. Then Butch is dipped in the rinsing tub and hooked up next to me in a similar manner to the way I'm hooked up. As soon as the dog is set down he shakes his body spraying me with rinse water, but the wind tunnel soon dries that too. I'm quickly as dry as I've ever been in my life, but the warm air continues blowing on me as Barry's busy doing something else. He's carrying a large sheep dog from the end cage to the washing tub, basically doing everything the same way he'd handled me; the dog and I weigh about the same. Barry sits him in the same larger tub I'd recently been bathed in, then hooks him up with two bungee cords so he can't jump out; he's just as immobile as I'd been. Only the top of his back, his tail, and his head are out of the water as he stands docilely, with an expression of almost embarrassment on his face.

My turn again... the wind tunnel is turned off and a smaller version of it is turned on for Butch. Barry unhooks me, picks me up with one arm under my buttocks and the other across my chest and again without apparent effort, carries me to the same grooming table he'd groomed the poodle on. Same routine of a slip collar around my neck tightly, then one bungee cord stretched under my belly near my dick, and one across the back of my knees. I'm totally immobilized once again. Snapping on the same clippers he used on the poodle,Barry takes hold of my jaw and easily manipulates by head this way and that as he runs the doggie clippers over my head. First across the front above my forehead and the half inch long hairs from there fall past my eyes followed quickly by another bunch of short hairs sheared to the scalp by the clippers.

He bends my head way over to the side and shears the very short hairs from there down to the back of the head. Bending my head to the side and to the left he runs the clippers up one side of the back of my head, then again, and again as I feel the short clippings falling on the back of my neck and shoulder. He goes over all areas on this side of my head one more time, pressing the clipper tightly against my scalp. Running his fingers over half my shorn head he goes back over a number of spots with the clippers, just to be sure. The same procedure for the other side of my head and I'm as docile for him as the sheep dog or poodle had been. Satisfied, the clippers snap off and he brushes the clipped hairs off me using a big soft brush that smell strongly of... what else, dogs.

"Okay, puppy, you've just got a shadow of hair left on your head. I could lather it and take the shadow off with a straight razor but Brett wants it like this for now." He's unhooking me as he's talking, then picks me up the same way as before; I'm as docile for him as I've ever been in my life. He says, "It will upset the dogs if you're standing around while I wash and groom them so I'll put you in a cage until Brett comes for you, it won't be long," and he. opens the door to the cage he just took the big sheep dog from and I crawled inside, my dick peeking out from it's hiding place as I get more comfortable with being under Barry's control. My long scrotum hangs down as I look out through the bars of my cage watching Barry wash the sheep dog. He's calmly and quietly murmuring many of the same things to him that he'd murmured to me.

Lance is two cages down, he picked his head up momentarily when I went inside my cage, but then he went back to sleep. I actually feel like a dog, wish I was one and Barry was my owner.

Much longer than 'just a few minutes' passes as I watch Barry finish the sheep dog's bath by dipping him in the rinsing tank. After hooking him up in front of the drier, the front bell sounds. "That'll probably be your mast..., er, I mean, Brett. He's come for you FIDO, let me check. When Barry's in the reception area he's much different than back here with us dogs. Here he's quiet and calm, out front he's loud. I easily hear him say, "Of course he's ready, honey. He was ready twenty minutes ago... I've got him in a cage. That'll be twenty-five dollars, pay the cashier."

I'm thinking, "Twenty five dollars! I gotta pay for this?" I'm out of my trance now and feeling claustrophobic in this cage.

In the lobby, Barry's saying, "He's got a lot of razor nicks on him. I could shave him and groom him professionally for ya weekly, without razor nicks, but that'll cost forty-five dollars."

I can barely hear Brett ask, "Every week?" and Barry's like, "Yeah, I had a regular customer pass away so I got this time spot open, but it needs to be every week or it's not worth it to me." Brett asks Mike, "What do you think? We'll deduct the money from his paycheck of course. Barry could bath him, groom him and shave him every Monday." Mike’s like, "Awesome idea! And while he's at the groomers, we can go to a movie.”

Brett like, "Sure, Mike,"

then to Barry, "Book him in for Mondays at four-thirty."

He's saying, "He's a doll or I wouldn't accept him as a regular, but with him it's doable."

So, my fate's sealed for this treatment every week, more then this treatment, he'll be shaving my legs and balls, and whatever. The word 'mortified!' doesn't adequately describe my state of mind right now. But, what’s new.

Barry comes in and lifts me out of the cage and then without thinking he starts carrying me outside, and I scream, "My clothes!" As he's putting me down, he laughs and says, "Oh, I forgot. Most of my clients don't wear clothes. Hope you enjoyed your spa treatment. And guess what... you're gonna be a regular!

I'll see ya next week." He's expecting I'll be thrilled about that. Oh, what the hell, he's a nice person so I'm not taking it out on him, it's not his fault. I say, "Yeah, that's really something," and he looks at me funny, like I'm not appropriately enthused, so I add, "You did a wonderful job. Thank you!"

He looks pleased now and my eyes get a little teary because he's gentle and nice to me and nobody else has been either of those things lately. I turn my head away and start over for my clothes, but Barry takes hold of my arm, and says, "Could you let me check something before you get dressed, honey?" I go, "Ah..." and I look at the door leading to Brett, and ask, "Ya think it'll be okay with with Brett?" He waves at the door, and says, "It'll only take a minute or two, he can wait. Let me get you up there on the table a sec, okay?"

Before I can answer, he casually picks me up with a hand under each arm pit, saying, "I wanna see what kind of a razor situation we have here so that I'm ready for you next Monday." He holds me over the table in a way that makes me bend my knees and I just naturally get on all fours. He smacks my ass saying, "Can you get over a little, honey?" I crawl over thinking, "He don't know his own strength. Jesus! That smack on my ass was harder and stings more than a paddle hitting me!" He mumbles "I'll make it quick, sweetie," as he's putting the slip collar over my head again and adjusts the bungee cords, immobilizing me. Force of habit, probably.

It's amazing how incapacitated a few taut bungee cords can make you. Barry's behind me spreading my buttocks and feeling between my legs, "Just want to see how extensive the shaving areas are." His big hands wrap around the front of my thighs, up next to my dick, "Feeling for stubble," he says, and I go, "But I don't shave there". His hand travels down my thigh then back up. He says, "I can feel you haven't been shaving here, but there are fine, almost invisible hairs here that need to be shaved if one's to do the job properly; I'll get them for you, I'm a professional." Then he's spreads his fingers wide and feels along my back and shoulders and then down my sides until fingers on either side of me are traveling down my dick, then back up lifting it as a finger feels along the underside of it. He then goes back to spreading my butt cheeks, saying, "I'll shave around your heiny hole too for the same reason; fine hairs."

A shudder goes through me then as the realization of how little control of my life I have... he telling me what he's going to do, not asking if I want it done. Barry's a very nice person, but it's apparent he's aware of the master/slave relationship that Brett and Mike have me in and that's the reason he's so comfortable taking control of me; that reason, plus he's used to always being in control of his dogs. But, come on, this is abject humiliation of the worse kind, and with Barry I don't even get to enjoy the sexual action I get from the boys when they're abusing me. But, as always, I come back to this:

"What the fuck can I do about it?" The answer to that question, at this time is,

"Nothing!" except make the best of it and cooperate so it goes as easily as it's possible to go under the circumstances.

As I contemplate my humiliating situation, Barry's adjusting the bungee cords, then he gets both hands on my hips and turns me over onto my back. The slip collar tightens around my neck for a second, but he adjusts that, then spreads my legs wide so that each ankle is held in place somehow by the bungee cord arrangement. Next he spreads and tucks my arm under bungee cords and I'm spread eagle on the table feeling totally on display. As he lifts my cock, he says, "I'll be shaving you on your back like this for the most part, and finish the job with you on all fours. In order to insure you don't make sudden movements causing me to nick you with the razor, you'll be secured like this." Everything he says is in a matter of fact manner, knowing neither the dogs nor me will complain or contradict him. He's totally in charge of us. "You'll find it's a pleasant experience. I have had it done to myself by a friend a few years ago, so I speak from personal experience." With a couple of fingers he's feeling around my dick, then down my scrotum to lightly squeeze my balls, then his fingers are under my balls, and finally he pulls my scrotum up, and says, "I see Brett's stretching your scrotum for ya. If you want I can pierce this and insert a nice ring or stud. You think about it, okay. That'll cost eighty-five dollars, but is well worth it." I make a noncommittal grunt because I don't want to hurt his feelings; he's nice, but the last thing I want is a stud in my stretched scrotum. I'm going to be enough of a freak having a foot long scrotum as it is. That's how long it'll be by the time Brett's through with me. After rubbing all around my belly and chest, Barry starts unhooking the bungee cords, saying, "You don't have much noticeable body hair, just the fine ones everybody has, but I like you so I'll be giving you pretty much a full body shave. Once you see how it feels to be shaved you'll want to do it all your life." I say, "Not my head though, right?" Barry lifts me down, and says, "That's up to Brett, honey... not me. If ya ask him nicely, maybe he'll let you keep the fuzzy hair you got on your head now." I feel my scalp and can just detect a fine sandpaper feel... boy, it's short alright. As I get dressed he turns his attention to the sheep dog. I say, "Bye. Barry," as I'm leaving, and he goes,

"Bye, puppy. See ya, next Monday."

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Neutralised (1994): S01 E01 [1/5]

(Meant to be read like a TV show, or the description of a TV show)

Warnings: Shitty writing (I'm rusty on television writing), death & dead bodies, 90s fashion decisions (can you tell I don't know what to mention), misunderstandings & perceived abuse, cheesy nicknames, violence & Swearing.

2000 ish words. Please tell me if you want to be tagged.

~~💀💀~~

The scene opens on a graveyard at dawn, a figure holds a shovel and attempts to dig, but the ground is too cold and hard. Next to him is a completely black golf-cart type vehicle.

A small subtitle appears at the bottom of the screen, it reads 'January 1st 1994, Chicago, Illinois'.

As the camera gets closer to the figure we can see them in more detail, blonde hair and glasses wearing a denim shirt and jeans under a dark brown winter coat, along with black boots, the faint hint of stubble colours his jawline in a tint of gold. This is Caleb 'Cal' willow, head grave-digger, 32 years old, British-American, six-foot tall and good-looking even though he doesn't wish to be anyone's eye-candy.

The figure (Cal) stops, leaving the shovel standing straight up in the frozen ground as he leans on it and looks towards something off-camera.

The camera shifts to behind the man in denim and we see truck, a beat-up, old, purple, 1989 Ford F-150.

The shot gets closer and the couple in the car are suddenly clearer.

The man in the driver's seat is hefty and has a smug smirk on his face, his leather jacket covers a stained off-white tank-top, a baseball cap covers most of his curly brown hair, except for the week-old beard and puts his blue eyes in shadow. This is Lance Carter, an electrician, 30 years old, originally from Mississippi, six-foot-two and a former college athlete.

"You gotta stop trippin' over yer feet, Mona." He grumbles as he leans over to kiss the woman.

The woman, 'Mona' is paler than her lover, light blonde hair, styled into bangs and a ponytail, and bright blue eyes contrast with her black painted lips and dark crimson eyeshadow, her red V-neck sweater vest and black long-sleeve shirt show a hint of cleavage and a black heart necklace. Her bangs barely hide a poorly covered bruise from that earlier morning. This is Monday 'Mona' Duke, the youngest grave-digger, 26 years old, born and raised in Eloia, five-foot-one and deceptively lean.

"I'll try not to, my Lancelot. I'ma go hand Cal his coffee, I love you and I'll see you later." Mona whispers, kissing his cheek and pulling away to get out of the truck.

Mona takes a set of three paper cups and a black satchel bag with her, the camera shifts to show her walking, with a slight but noticeable limp on her right side, towards Cal, his figure standing in the graveyard, and we see she's wearing black cargo pants and black heavy boots with inch-thick platforms on the bottom.

"Bram not here yet?" She calls as she walks over.

"Not yet, Mona, waiting for the call to say he's got religious reasons." Cal breathes out a cloud as he sighs, happily taking a cup from his female co-worker.

"We should have taken today off, but then again, you don't care about New Year's Day, and I don't want to be in the same apartment as my dumbass boyfriend."

"Go send Prince Charming away then, Princess." Cal chuckles softly.

Mona jogs back to the car, which isn't easy with her limp being made worse by the freezing weather.

"Lance, I'm at work now, you can leave."

Lance leans out of the window to kiss Mona, when they pull away a man can be seen between them, about six feet from the car.

The man is tall, broad shoulders with a black trench-coat draped over them, his pale blue jumper clashes slightly with the dark green colour of his trousers, and the maroon brown shade of his boots. His curly black hair comes to rest just above his dark brown eyes and aquiline nose, his scowling lips are framed by a neatly trimmed goatee. This is Abraham 'Bram' Machado, the tallest grave-digger, 30 years old, born and raised in Idaho, six-foot-three and easily angered.

He glares at Lance as the man drives away, his rage vanishes as he looks at Mona.

"Morning, Mona, sorry I'm late Cal… car troubles." The tallest member of the trio nervously explains, gesturing to his car parked neatly in its place, the only hint of damage is a cracked passenger window.

"Lateness I expect from Mona, not from you, Bram." Cal huffs as he once again tries to dig the frozen dirt.

Mona limps a couple paces before sitting in the black golf-cart.

"Are you doing okay, Mona?" Bram raises an eyebrow in concern, taking a swig from the final cup of coffee to hide the scowl on his lips.

She nods, taking a sip from her coffee before she turns to scan across the graveyard, her eyes widen when she spots something.

Cal gestures for Bram to put his drink down and focus on the work. Bram nods but stares at Mona as he continues working.

"Excuse me, sir," Mona starts walking towards a slumped figure, "you can't sleep out here, you'll catch your demise, mister?" She pokes the figure with her foot, dropping down to check their pulse.

Cal and Bram stop and silently watch as Mona slowly stands and starts carefully walking backwards towards them.

"Monday, are you alright?" Cal's voice waivers slightly as he starts to realise what the lady grave-digger has seen.

"Monday, come here, you shouldn't look at that. Mona, Mona come here." Bram pulls Mona towards him, making her squeak as her smaller frame collides with his chest, he shields her body with his.

Cal grabs his phone from his back pocket and dials a number, the scene starts to fade out as Cal says, "Hey, Boss…"

The next scene fades in, an office, cramped and claustrophobic.

An older gentleman, his black hair balding, short of both stature and temper, wearing an all black suit more at home in the 70s, along with black leather gloves on his hands. He sits at an old wooden desk and shakes his head as he grabs a small pile of paperwork.

"These are your witness reports," He looks at the trio, annoyed at them, "I'm not letting you three get off of work just because you found a body. Miss Duke, shift's over, I'll see you later. Out." The older man, Mr Mortimer according to the name plaque on his desk, grumbles in an Italian accent, waving the three grave-diggers out of his tiny office.

They step out into a larger room, past a young black man sitting with his feet on his desk reading 'Funeral Monthly', and through another door into what almost looks like a gothic hotel lobby. At the desk sits a larger, blond gentleman, downing an energy drink with an obvious 'I don't want to be here' attitude.

Cal strikes up a conversation with him with a casual, "Hey, King." Then the conversation fades into background noise.

"Hey, Monday… Are, are you sure you're okay, Mona?" Bram whispers as he sits down with her on one of the benches in the lobby.

"Yeah I'm fine, Bram, it's nothing I haven't seen before," She shrugs, "Lance should be here soon to take me to the café anyway." Mona's voice is a mile a minute, it's clear that this is just how she talks, fast-paced with little time to relax, as is her lifestyle.

But at the mention of Lance, Bram's soft, caring smile drops, replaced with a scowl full of hate as he hunkers down, placing his forearms against his thighs, he glares at the entrance and his jaw clenches tight, hands already balled into fists.

He's shaken from the mist of blind anger by Mona gently patting his shoulder as a gesture of thanks.

Mona heads outside, lighting up a cigarette as Bram stands, stopping himself from following her, he waits for Cal to leave first.

Bram glares at Lance as Mona kisses her boyfriend and leaves with him, Bram continues glaring until he can't see the truck anymore.

"Drop the glare, we have work to do. You can fight him when Mona isn't around him," Cal nudges Bram's arm, "c'mon Romeo."

The two men climb into the golf-cart and head back to the grave they were digging.

Meanwhile, Mona and Lance share an awkward moment of silence before Lance huffs a hefty sigh.

"Are we gonna talk about it?" He grumbles.

"What? The dead frozen guy?" Mona raises an eyebrow at the gruff tone of her boyfriend's voice.

"No, Mona. Are we gonna talk about him, the tall guy you work with?"

"Bram? What about him?" She shrugs, not understanding the question.

"He glares at me, every time I drop you off or pick you up. Hell, Mona, he glares at me when I visit you at work."

"He's just protective, it's not every day that someone shows up with bruises and a limp."

Mona checks her hairline in a compact mirror, showing the bruises, which can't be older than a week or less, she attempts to cover them with makeup and fixes her bangs to hide them again.

"I know that, but it's every time, not just today." Lance slams hard on the horn and silently mouths a couple curse words at another driver.

Mona jumps at the noise of the horn, Lance notices and takes her hand to press a reassuring kiss to the back of her palm.

"I didn't realise that, Lancelot, but pay him no attention. I'm your girl, not his." Mona whispers as Lance parks the truck.

As soon as Mona steps out of the truck, the back door of the café swings open and a young man, in white clothes and an apron, with jet black hair comes rushing out, stopping when he sees Mona and rushing over to hug her.

"Fry, down baby brother, down." Mona chuckles softly.

Fry puts his hands up and takes a step back, "Estelle's here. She's mad at Angelo."

"Why's she mad at Angelo for?"

As Mona steps through the door the camera follows her and when it swings back the screen goes black.

The scene fades back and the camera raises diagonally out of the grave Cal and Bram have been digging. Cal and Bram have both ditched their jackets by this point, Cal's denim shirt has sweat stains in the armpits. Bram is in the process of taking his jumper off, revealing a long-sleeved beige undershirt and suspenders.

"So, what's the deal with you and Mona?" Cal asks, watching as Bram's shoulders drop as he sighs.

"The deal with me and Monday," Bram murmurs as he places his jumper in the cart, "From the day she got hired, I thought me and her would be friends, or maybe more, but she doesn't see me in that way. If she truly wants Lance, then the lord better fix him fast." Bram grumbles as he avoids looking Cal in the eyes.

Cal goes to speak, falling silent as both men look towards the sound of tires screeching to a halt.

Lance's truck pulls up beside the row of headstones, the driver's side door swings open and he steps out, scowling as he looks at Cal and Bram.

The passenger door swings open and a young, golden haired man in a dark blue security uniform steps out and rushes over to Lance's side. The name tag on his chest reads 'Kane Carter'. This is Kane 'K.C' Carter, the day-shift security guard, 27 years old, the younger brother of Lance, five-foot-nine and a man who is usually late due to being a heavy sleeper.

"Piss off, Kane." Lance growls, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the seat before slamming the car door.

"Lance, don't. Think about what Monday would want." K.C tries to push his brother towards the car as Lance storms towards the grave-diggers.

"Don't you dare." Cal whispers as he pries Bram's hand off the shovel, chucking both potential weapons in the back of the cart.

Bram stands his ground, glaring daggers at Lance as the, slightly shorter, tall man advances.

[michaelaftonwhore]

MICHAEL AFTON X FEMALE READER |LEMON| PART 2.

Summary; You're the new girl at England and the new neighbour of the Afton's and Michael had his eye on you, things start to get spicy after he meet you, he found you interesting.

Reader is 19 and Michael is 18.

|Your hair, tattoo's and clothes in the story but If you don't like it you can change them to however you want them to be|

Warning ⚠️: Reader gets bullied, raped and beated by a group of thugs at school who aren't the tormentor's. |Don't worry Michael will still rescue her and comfort her|

YOUR P.O.V:

After getting a good night sleep in your new haunted house you waked up at dawn due to your alarm sounding off so you groaned and shut it off before getting up.

I yawned and stretched before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth before I took off my pj's sliding them to the floor before stepping into the shower letting the warm water fall on me as I scrubbed my body clean before I exited the shower and dried my body with the pink cheetah print towel I had before I wrapped it around my body and exited the bathroom to my room as I dropped the towel on the floor before I changed my clothes which consisted of ripped denim shorts with chains and a black crop top showing off my curves and slim belly button piercing with my tattoo at the side [Clothes on multimedia].

I finished your look with wearing black combat boots before pulling my lilac purple hair down completely as I straightened it before I grabbed my leather black backpack and slung it over my shoulder before spraying some candy perfume on my neck as I put on some eyeliner and mascara over my eyes going for a grunge look.

Once I was done I headed downstairs and grabbed a bagel and spread some butter on it as you eated it quickly before grabbing a milk cartoon box from the fridge and drinked it before throwing it to the trashcan before exiting the house as you put your headphones on as ❝Helena❞ by My Chemical Romance started to blast and I just smiled as I walked on the cross side walk as I headed to school walking.

Unknowingly to her Michael had seen it all, he had watched her change through his window and got hard, now he had one problem to solve before going to school.

MICHAEL AFTON P.O.V:

I just groaned watching the new girl change her clothing I had a good view of her breasts, thin waist, curves and pussy, I felt myself getting hard and groaned before looking down at my hard on, the bulge visible through my sweatpants so I pulled my sweatpants down before stroking and pumping myself as I groaned the image of her naked body stuck to my head as I quickened my movements my breathing heavier as I closed my eyes and threw my head back as I fantasized of her jerking me off instead before I got interrupted by the one of the idiot I have as an friend named Connor.

❝¡Dude, learn to knock before bursting in!, ¿will ya?❞ I said annoyed at him for interrupting my fantasy and my perverted thought of the new girl.

❝¿Were you jerking off?❞ Connor asked me raising his eyebrows as he looked down at my hand which still stroked my cock and I just simply stared at him annoyed.

❝Yes, ¿so what about it?❞ I growled at him still mad that he interrupted my fantasy about the new girl and the fact that he interrupted us last night too when we were having a moment at the pizzeria before he ruined it.

❝Nothing, but... ¿what exactly are you watching that got you like this?❞ Connor wondered before going to my side as he looked through the window before hanging his mouth open in shock before grinning ❝¡Hot damn...! ¿That's the new girl from last night? ¡She's fucking hot, dude, way much hotter than your ex-girlfriend Rebecca!❞ Connor said and I just gave him a murderous look before he catched the message and raised his hands up in surrender ❝Okay... I'll shut up now, message received❞ Connor said and I scoffed turning to look back at the window only to see her gone, nowhere to be found.

❝¡Fuck!❞ I cursed out before leaning my head over the window in defeat.

❝¿Where did miss hottie, go?❞ Connor said as he leaned over the window to look for any signs of the new girl before looking back at me only to see me still humping on my own hand looking for some release of the tension building up ❝¡Dude!, you better stop doing that before your Dad catches you❞ Connor said scrunching up his nose in disgust before walking away slamming the door shut and I just finished myself off groaning in satisfaction when I see the drops of cum sliding down my member glistening it and I just quickly cleaned myself before pulling my sweatpants back up before I started to get ready for school as I changed and styled my hair.

YOUR P.O.V:

I just keep walking through the side walk towards school as I hummed under my breath the song of Helena by My Chemical Romance as I walked the autumn leaves crunching beneath my boots till I see a group of guy's looking at me up and down as they passed by my side grinning I just felt one of them grab my butt locks as some of them laughed and I turned to look around and watch them shocked.

❝¿What? ¿You gonna say something, darling?❞ the guy said and I found myself cringing at the pet name and I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

❝Yeah, I want to say that...❞ I started saying as I walked up to him as the guy grinned and looked at me expectantly, the guy had red hair styled up and had a shit eating grin on his lips that I so hard wanted to smack ❝That you should eat shit❞ I said kicking the guy in his groin and stomach and he stumbled backwards falling down on the floor before staring at me furiously and I knew I was in trouble.

❝¡Go and get her!❞ he ordered to his goon's ❝I'll fucking kill that bitch❞ the guy cursed out as I quickly turned around to start running for my life as the goon's of the guy gang started to follow me and I couldn't get that far before one of them grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back from my attempt at climbing the fence to escape and I groaned from the harsh pull and grip on my hair as I fall landing on my back and my vision get blurry from the tears on my eyes.

I heard footsteps and see the guy with red hair from before standing before me grinning as he crounched down to look at me:

❝You're gonna regret ever crossing me, you filthy outsider❞ the guy said as he grabbed me harshly by my hair as he pulled me up and I just winced from the pain trying to get free my hair from his grip as I trashed around ❝Grab her, I'm gonna have my fun with this bitch wether she likes it or not so she can knows her place❞ the guy said as his goon's grabbed me each by my arm's so I wouldn't defend myself.

I just groaned when I felt him punch my stomach and I just gasped trying to breathe before I felt him smack me across my face hard as I spat out at him only making him punch me in my face instantly cutting my lower lip making the side of my face swell and hurt as I could feel a bruising coming up later I just felt my head spinning as my vision blurried from the tears welling up as they fall when I helplessly on the verge of falling unconscious watched him pull down his pants and boxer's as he pulled off my shorts and underwear before aligning at my entrance and pushed himself in harshly as I didn't have time to scream at him to stop I felt how my world crumbled as I felt something inside me snapped in half I just felt forced to watch as the guy rammed into me harshly hard and fast without letting me adjust at his size I just cried as he keeps raping me and once he had enough he pulled out and leaved me on the floor as his friends dropped me.

I just fell down on the floor crying as blood pulled out of my hole as the guy looked at me smiling.

❝I hope this served you as a lesson to learn not to mess with me❞ the guy said grinning before he kicked my ribs hard and I'm pretty damn sure I heard a cracking sound as I gasped for air, I heard their laughter as they walked away and I just stared at where they go as I remained there motionless.

MICHAEL AFTON P.O.V:

I walked on the side walk whistling as I headed to school my thoughts going back to the new girl I meet last night at the pizzeria, my thoughts then drived to her naked form when she was changing and I blushed a deep red as I shaked my head to control myself and focus on getting at school. I keep walking till I see a familiar body of a certain purple lilac haired girl with blood pooling off from her naked navel.

I felt my heart drop at the sight and quickly rushed to her pulling her to my arms as I held her face on my hand's:

❝¡Hey, Y/N! ¿You hear me? ¿What happened to you? ❞ I quickly asked her seeing her barely conscious.

❝They raped me...❞ Y/N said sofly and my heart broke into pieces.

❝¿Who? ¿Who did this to you?❞ I asked her but Y/N lost consciousness and blacked out so I just quickly took off her shorts and underwear from the floor I just took off my jacket to put It on her and zipped it up covering her before carrying her over my shoulder as I walked back to my house.

Once I walked back to my house I quietly snuck In hoping Elizabeth and Evan weren’t around once the cost was clear I just got upstairs and quietly opened the door to my room and got in before settling her down on the bed as I brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before sitting down on the edge of the bed as I looked down at her waiting for her to regain her consciousness and waked up so she could explained me what happened.

❝ ¿Who did this to you, beautiful? ❞ I muttered as I traced my fingertips from her ear down to her cheek and stopping at her lip where it had a small cut that bleeded and I cursed at myself for not being able to arrive sooner as I sweared those fuckers where gonna pay for doing this to her. I just brushed my thumb softly over the cut on her soft and plump buttom lip softly as I wiped away the blood not caring to get myself dirty with her blood.

I then sighed and go to take and first aid kit from the bathroom and tend to her wounds and cleaned her up before putting on back her underwear and shorts usually I would be drooling over her body but this time didn't as I now was more preoccupied with her well being so I just focused till I finished patching her up completely and just silently waited for her to wake up.

YOUR P.O.V:

After a while I slowly regained consciousness and stirred before waking up only to see that I wasn’t on the cross walk going to school and neither in my room, I was in an unfamiliar room and I adjusted my eye sight till I started to remember everything how I got targeted by those pricks and how they beated me up and raped and I winced from the pain on my ribs till I see Michael; the guy from last night who flirted with me at the pizzería sitting at my side looking at me worried and I just tried to got up:

❝Whoa, whoa... Hey, slow down, cutie, you got pretty injured on the ribs❞ Michael said to me as he grabbed me by my shoulders and I just looked at him.

❝¿Where I am?❞ I asked groggily.

❝At my house, in my room, so don’t worry, you’re safe now❞ Michael said reassuring.

❝I see... ¿How long I was unconscious?❞ I asked him.

❝About an hour and half...❞ Michael replied before looking back at me ❝You were nearly unconscious when I found you so I brought you here and cleaned you up and patched up your wounds❞ Michael said to me and I just felt my heart fluttering at how he did all of that for me ❝You almost gave me an heart attack, Princess❞ Michael said now grinning cheekily at me and I just couldn't help but crack an smile before leaning over to kiss his cheek as an thanks watching how his cheeks flushed.

❝Thank you for rescuing me❞ I said smiling at him.

❝You're welcome❞ Michael said looking off to the side embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I just smiled at his action founding him cute. Michael’s all jokes and teasing till he shortcircuits over an simple kiss on the cheek and I wondered how he’ll react when I kiss him I thought as I smiled and chuckled from the image.

❝I promise you that those assholes will pay for what they've done to you so just you wait till me and my friends do you justice❞ Michael said now looking at me more serious.

❝That’s really sweet of you❞ I said smiling at him.

❝I’m just doing what anyone would’ve had done in that moment, It’s the right thing to do...❞ Michael said stubbornly and I just chuckled.

❝If you say so then I’ll take your word for it❞ I said smiling at him.

Michael just looked away flustered and cleared his throat before saying.

❝Uh, hey, ¿do you wanna stay and have breakfast or something? I’m pretty sure there's some blue pancakes on the kitchen❞ Michael offered me and I just stared at him in surprise not expecting me to offer me to stay but I quickly shook those thought out of my head before answering him.

❝I would love to❞ I said smiling and Michael grinned.

|PART 3 WILL COME SOON|

Side Notes: I didn't knew how to end this chapter but I hope you guys still liked this, If you guys had any ideas on what you guys want to happen next the comments are appreciate It or write me in private.

[rei-fashion-corner]

Junya Watanabe ss24

time to another one tonight. this is junya watanabe, another brand under the COMME des GARÇONS umbrella.

an amazing work from junya watanabe n team.

it goes through a lot of different fabric types n the tailoring *muach* *muach* chef kiss.

let's go through the looks

from the first couple looks, it shows how the avant-garde design. n it executed amazingly with the tailoring.

then for the leather it looks amazing. ohhhh i love it so much. it looks intimidating but u can't look away like u have a crush on them

n then there's the denim looks

the denim looks is my personal favorite. not just by the patern that gave it a 3D shape. the stitching that be all over the clothes give the illusion of shape for the body.

like u can see here. the stitching make an exaggeration on the waist

n it ended with looks that made of tweed

it's classy, it's rich but still give that intimidating looks

overall it's an amazing collection

I'll give it 9/10 would love to see someone on red carpet wearing this

[traditionanddebts]

one of my favorite things about "i always started carrying a tape measure after that"/"i was not aware that was a service i was supposed to provide" is that it highlights the diversity among butches. some of us (me) want to carry everything around, in case it ever is needed, and then we've got it. some of us (gideon my beloved) don't want to carry around all this nonsense and they're built for athletics speed. it's delightful--

[shiny-jr]

I LOVE THE HEATHERS AU!! Do you have plans for the other TWST boys as well or will you be keeping it around the ones you just wrote? Also, where is Grim?

Sorry if I'm bombarding you with too much questions. If the AU is still in it's early stages, feel free to ignore this!

- a lurking gremlin anon

Thank you, anon! I don't really have any particular ideas for the other characters, since there aren't a lot of characters in Heathers. Plus having so many students involved in the story would make things chaotic and too busy, thus hard to write. So I'll be keeping it to the ones I wrote and established already (no Grim), but I have imagined some of the other characters in the same setting too. Here's a few descriptions I came up with for some characters that aren't included. 

Cater Diamond, local fan of Vil Schoenheit and friend of Rook Hunt. He's a member of the yearbook committee and unlike some of the others, he isn't some cultish fan that worshipped Vil's trio. Cater is actually fairly fashionable, even if he couldn't always wear the high-quality clothes like the infamous clique, he could still look good in his own way. The photographer was often seen wearing a cute sweater usually with white jeans and a headband for his orange hair. And of course, a photographer like him couldn't catch photos and juicy moments without a camera hanging around his neck. Believe it or not, Cater is pretty friendly, even if he does have a habit of tricking newbies to do his tasks around the school. Don't tell him a secret though, because by the end of the day over half of the school will know it because of him.

Leona Kingscholar, head of the football team. Don't assume just because he's the leader of a bunch of dumb jocks that he's dumb too. Far from it actually. He's conniving and smart for someone of his position, and also creates strategies to lead his team to victory. If it weren't for Vil and his clique, Leona and his gang would surely take the crown for top of the hierarchy. When not wearing a varsity jacket, he prefers to wear a denim jacket or a black leather jacket over either a plain shirt or button-up. The most intricate thing about his outfit would be the colorful bandanas he wears for some control over his wild mane and the golden chain around his neck. Be wary of Leona, he certainly is not very friendly or forgiving, you don't want to mess with him at all for he's been in his own share of fights and he always emerges victorious.

Jack Howl, a rising star on the football team. He, a freshman like Ace and Deuce, was chosen for the team. Although even more than the two previously mentioned, he’s gaining a bigger reputation for his intense skills at athletics and never starting conflict. If there’s conflict with him, you can be sure he didn’t start it but he will definitely finish it. You can spot him from across the hall with that build and height. When not wearing the varsity jacket, he settles with a plain white shirt and either a leather jacket or bomber jacket over it. If you happen to see him during practice, he will have shed his jacket and just wear the white sleeveless shirt that reveal his toned arms. Yeah, his muscles aren’t just for show. Jack may just be a freshman but do not pick a fight with him. 

Azul Ashengrotto, another “nerd.” However, this nerd has more influence and power. Azul may be a nerd, but he’s certainly not bullied, he actually has a lot more power than most are willing to admit. He knows everyone’s business, he knows everything about everyone and uses this to his advantage. You would think that the skinny glasses-wearing guy wearing a freshly-ironed shirt with clean pants and suspenders, socks, and polished shoes would be an easy target to bully, but oh no. One wrong move and Azul will expose your dirtiest secrets. He uses this power to avoid being bullied and to gain favors and such. Yeah, he has students around campus doing odd jobs and chores and other strange tasks for him, just to avoid their secret getting out. So do not cross Azul. 

[thecomfortgoth]

Always and Forever

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

(Mechanic!Eddie undertones)

CW: pure unadulterated fluff/comfort, established relationship, you and Eddie live together and have promise rings, that man loves the BONES off you, worry/kinda angst, L-bombs, I guess Eddie worshipping the ground you walk on and doing anything for you?

A/N: um... hi! This is my first ever fic (I guess?) I wrote this for a lovely new friend I met who has been going through a very tough time recently and I wanted to help her feel a little better. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.6k (I got carried away lol)

Please let me know how I did! Feedback is always appreciated

You sat at the edge of the bed, head cupped in your hands as you fought off the feelings of stress and worry. You didn't want to cry or feel this way. You just wanted everything to be better already and for things to start going right. Feeling overwhelmed, you let out a big sigh and sank back into the soft, plush duvet behind you and closed your eyes. You just wanted to lie there for a moment, not doing anything, not thinking about anything. Suddenly, your phone starts ringing, making you jolt upwards. Was this something important? You run over to the phone, picking it up and letting out a crackled "Hello?"

"Hey baby! It's me.. are you okay?"

It was Eddie. He was at work in the autoshop and was calling you on his lunch break, as he often did. You felt a little calmness wash over you as you heard his voice. He always soothed you, even if he didn't know it.

"Yeah.. I'm okay.. I'm just- I don't know" you croak, fighting back a sniffle or two.

"Tell me what's wrong sweetheart, tell me everything" he says with a worried lilt to his voice. You can't contain it any more and you start to sob quietly, letting out all of your frustration, your worry and anxiety. It was at a point it was too much. Eddie notices this and immediately comforts you as you tell him what's been going on and how you're feeling.

"Oh baby" he says in a soft hushed tone, "I don't like hearing you like this.. Infact, I'm taking the rest of the day off, I'll be home as soon as I can" he says

"Eds, no, it's okay you can't-"

"Try and stop me sweetie" he says and you can tell he's smirking at you on the other end of the phone. He hangs up. It gives you a slight smile to know that he's coming home and he's on his way to you. You always felt much better when he was around.

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

Eddie pulls into the driveway and opens the door with a "Baby! Where are you? Can you come down please?"

You hear him calling for you and get yourself up off of the bed, smoothing out the shirt of Eddie's you happened to be wearing that day, rubbing your hands momentarily on the rough denim of your jeans, using all the energy you possibly could muster to do so. You felt tired and your limbs felt a little heavy. You slowly make your way downstairs, to see him standing there with his hands behind his back. He's wearing his signature leather jacket with his battle Jacket over it, a Black Sabbath t-shirt and his usual black jeans with white Reeboks. His chain hanging from his jeans clinked against his belt as he swayed and grinned at you.

"There's my girl" he says softly. "Come here"

You slowly walk over to him, a slight smile on your face because how could you not smile when he was around? He was your rock, your protector, your safe place. And you were his too. It didn't need to be said or spoken, you both just knew.

He slowly takes his hands out from behind him, revealing a huge, beautiful bunch of your favourite flowers. He offers them to you and says "For my gorgeous girl", staring deep into your eyes and cupping your face with one of his hands, feeling the cold metal of his rings on your warm cheek. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, then the very tip of your nose and then finally your lips, embracing you in his arms as he does. He holds you tight and close, it seems to go on forever as you hold on to him, finding it hard to hold back the tears you fought off earlier. You breathed deeply and smelled the leather from his jacket, mixed with his sandalwood cologne and the faint smell of hemp.

"Would you like to go for a walk down by our spot, beautiful?" He mumbles into your neck, his face has been planted firmly in the crook there since the moment he embraced you.

You pull back a little too look him in the eyes, tears pooling a little and nod at him. He softly brushes his thumb against your cheek and you move your face into his hand as he does so. "Okay, let me go and get your shoes, would you like a jacket too?" he muses as he waltzes over to the closet.

"Just the shoes please, honey" you reply softly.

He grabs your boots and motions you to sit down on the small bench you have in the hallway. You put your hand out expecting him to hand you the shoes, but he doesn't. Instead he kneels in front of you and motions you to lift your foot so he can slip them on for you. "You don't think I'm gonna let my girl put her own shoes on do you?" He looks up at you and grins, his brown doe eyes sparkling in the early evening sun coming through the glass in the door.

You let out a small chuckle, "You're silly, I can put my own shoes on!".

"Absolutely not! The queen shall NEVER don her own boots! Tis not the rules, m'lady!" He muses theatrically, lifting his hand up to the sky and then back to his heart, like an actor in a Shakespeare play, making you giggle a little harder now.

"Shall we then?" He says grabbing your hand and softly planting a kiss on the back of it, still on the floor.

"Yes, let's go" you smile at him and say, getting up and both walking to the door, hand in hand. You already felt so much better with him being here and your walk hadn't even begun.

Eddie runs around to your side of his van before you can even get there, opening the door for you and standing there with a smile on his face and his eyes closed. "Your highness" he says in a terrible accent as he bows and motions you inside the van, taking your hand to help you up into the van. He knows you're not that tall and he always holds your hand as you climb in. He's such a gentleman and the sweetest man you've ever met. Not to mention the most beautiful.

He clambers in himself and starts the engine. Before setting off, he turns to you and points at the glove box, this is where he keeps all of his and yours cassettes. A nice collection of both of your music tastes.

"Pick whatever you want baby, even if it's god damn Billy Idol. I'll listen to whatever you want today and I promise I won't call him a poser" he smiles at you, knowing that you'll complain if he does. He didn't care for Billy Idol, but he knows you do and he loves you so much he'd listen to pretty much anything at all if it made you happy. Even Madonna.

You stare at him wide eyed and say "Really?"

"Deadly" he replies shooting you a huge grin.

You rustle through the casettes for a brief moment and finally decide on Metallica. You both loved them so it was a nice happy medium. You push the casette into the tape player and soon the car is filled with the shrill guitars and the thundering drums of James Hetfield and co.

"Man! I love this band so frickin much!" Eddie exclaims as he starts tapping the steering wheel and headbanging in a silly way that made you giggle again. He starts singing along to Battery in a very silly voice, even imitating the guitars, including the solos. This makes you laugh harder than you've laughed in days. He would do anything to cheer you up, even if it meant making a fool of himself. But you didn't think he was a fool at all. He shoots you a wicked grin and blows you a kiss as the song finishes, grabbing your hand and laying both your hands in your lap for the rest of the journey as you both listen to the tape and just enjoy each others silence.

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

"Oh wow, I think it's going to be a beautiful night!" Eddie says cheerfully as he helps you step out of the van on to the path next to the soft grass near you. Another thing he always did. You were silently grateful for a second that you had a man as chivalrous as him, smiling slightly at the thought.

He catches you smiling and wonders what you're thinking about, but he doesn't ask. He just smiles back, holds out his hand for you to grab and you entwine your fingers with his. You start walking down the nearby beach together, taking your time. Neither of you are in a rush at all. You float your way on to the beach together, taking slow but steady steps as you hit the sand underneath your feet. You look out towards the water on your right, the sun should be setting in around an hour. You two stroll along in silence for a little while, hand in hand, just enjoying the beautiful view, the sound of the small waves crashing nearby and lapping at the sand and some birds nearby. You squeeze Eddie's hand three times, you and his secret way of saying "I love you" and he looks down at you with a big toothy smile and soft eyes, and squeezes back three times. He slowly puts his arm around your shoulder and you both walk like that for a while longer.

He pauses for a second and turns to you, facing you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You put your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him, feeling totally safe. "Feeling any better, baby?" He asks softly, laying a soft kiss on your forehead, brushing a stray hair out of your face with his finger.

You look up at him and smile, "A bit".

"Shall we walk back now? The sun is almost ready to set and I have something I want to show you" he leans in and says, planting a few soft quick kisses on each cheek and then your lips. You nod and you're once again hand in hand, walking back along the beach. You can feel him stroking your hand with his thumb as you both walk along.

You look out at the water. And then you look up at Eddie. He's watching some birds soaring in the distance, smiling as he watches them dance around in the sky. You cannot help but feel overwhelming love for this man in this moment. Your man. You wonder what you did to deserve such a sweetheart and how in the world he chose you to be his. You glanced down at the simple silver promise ring he gave you and smile, biting your lip slightly. It doesn't matter what you did or how he chose you, all that you know is that he did and you couldn't be happier to have him by your side. You ride that high for a little while, feeling like you're walking on a cloud, leaning your head against his arm and mimicking his thumbstrokes across your hand on his.

--------

You reach the van and go to get inside, but Eddie tells you that you're going in the wrong door with a cheeky smile. You look at him puzzled and he leaps over to the back of the van. You walk around slowly to see why the hell he's going in there and as you do, he opens the doors. Inside, you see pillows and blankets, almost like he's made a mini fort in the back of his van. You see a cooler filled with yours and his favourite drinks and next to it a duffel bag. "What is all this babe?" You look at Eddie with a shocked but happy look on your face

"I thought we could watch the sunset together and have a little picnic" he smiles as he unzips the duffel bag, showing all of your favourite snacks and candies.

You look at him with a grateful smile and say "Oh baby you didn't have to!"

You were quite content just being with him, he really didn't have to pull out all these stops to make you happy. But he always did it anyway, because he wanted to show you how much he loved you and make sure you knew just how much he appreciated you. You throw your arms around his neck and give him a huge, long kiss. Both smiling as you pull away.

You both settle in to the softness of the blankets and cushions in the back of the van. He hands you a drink and you pick out something from the bag of goodies in front of you. Eddie picks something out too and starts making silly faces at you and you start to make them back at him, you both sit and laugh together.

It starts to get a little cold as the sun starts to set in the horizon and you rub at your arms. Eddie notices this and stands up for a second to take off his leather jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders as he plops himself down right next to you, leaving a soft kiss on your neck as he does. He puts one arm around your shoulders and the other grabs your hands. You both stare off into the distance and enjoy the beautiful hues of the sky as the sun goes away for another day.

"You know I'll always be here for you right?" Eddie turns his head to look down at you. You look back at him, waiting for him to continue, sensing he's going to say more.

"I will be here every step of the way. No matter how tough things get, no matter what obstacles we will face, either together or individually. You're my girl and I will do everything in my power to make you happy, to lift your spirits when you're sad, to chase away your demons and protect you from harm"

He cups your face slowly, brushing at your cheek again, as he so often does.

You look up at him, feeling tears well in your eyes, but this time it's happy tears. You can feel your heart swell with love. You loved Eddie more than you've ever loved anyone. And you didn't think you could ever love anyone as much ever again.

"I know Eds. And I feel the exact same about you. I never want you to feel alone or battle your fears alone. I'll always be your girl. And I'll always be by your side. Every step."

He smiles at you softly, and leans in to kiss you. It is a long, passionate kiss. Your hands in his hair, his hand on your face, his other arm still behind you, now holding you close to him and pulling you into his chest. You pull away slightly, needing some air because of how amazingly breathless his kiss left you.

"I love you so much, sweetheart. Always and forever." he says in an almost whisper, stroking your face and looking deeply into your eyes.

"I love you too, Eddie. Always and forever." You reply in the same almost whisper.

You both kiss once more and then you snuggle up to his chest as he holds you in his arms, softly humming a beautiful little riff you recognised.

You feel safe. You feel comforted. You feel absolute bliss. But most of all.. you feel so much better than you did before. You know all your worries are still there, but you finally feel like you have the strength to face them, especially knowing that he will always be in your corner and he will face them with you..

Always and forever.

[metalbuckaroo]

Kinktober Day 11: Authority Kink

SUMMARY// "You're the closest thing I'll get, darlin'."

WARNINGS// smut, unprotected sex, sir kink, cursing

AU// Bodyguard!ws x mafia!f!reader / Bodyguard!Bucky x mafia!f!reader

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

Moodboard by// @samhainduchess

"There are many other things I'd rather be doing than these meetings." You grumbled, standing from your chair to lean back against your desk. Watching as Bucky unclipped his mask to take a deep breath.

His eyes stayed trained on the way your heeled foot lifted to turn the chair towards him. "I've got thirty minutes before another one. Can you make it quick?"

A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he moved to sit in the plush leather chair. 'I hate that thing.' He muttered in Russian, leaning his head back.

"One day-" taking the mask in your hands, you looked at him with a gentle smile. "You won't have to wear it, anymore."

His denim blues danced back and forth as he looked at your features before down at the mask. "That's a lost hope." Bucky sighed, reaching his right hand out to graze his knuckles against the exposed skin of your thigh. "You're the closest thing I'll get, darlin'."

Goosebumps prickled your skin in the wake of his gentle touch. Fingers hooking under the hem of your skirt to tug you closer. "C'mere." He mumbled, holding his hands out to grip your waist. Pulling you to straddle his thick thighs.

"Yes, sir." You said in a giggle, carding your fingers through his chin length hair.

Bucky felt sparks in his veins when he heard that one word fall from your lips, gripping the swell of your ass as he groaned lightly. "Say that again."

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you leaned down to brush your lips to his scruffy jaw. "Fuck me, sir." You teased, grinding your hips down against him.

Standing, Bucky hauled you up to his waist. Your back meeting the expensive wood of your desk as his hands shoved your skirt up in a haste. Making quick work to undo his belt and shove his pants and briefs to his mid thigh.

Your head tipped back in a strained moan when he filled you in one swift thrust. Walls stretched to their limit as he pounded into you relentlessly. A cord in him being snapped from one word.

Bucky kept his hands flat against the desktop on either side of your waist, low groans and moans pouring from his lips with each slide against your velvety walls.

You whined when his warm right hand went around your throat loosely, his forefinger lifting to tap your chin. "Look at me, sweets." He grunted, a mix of a sigh and groan leaving his throat when your eyes peaked open to meet his.

He basked in the way you looked at him as he took you apart- like there was something in him you saw worth while where no one else did. Something only he got to experience to see every day for the past month since the night in the alley.

"Best cunt I've ever been in, darlin'. Can feel you squeezin' me already." Bucky moaned out, your hands searching out to hold his biceps as you keened.

"Bucky-" you cried out, back arching off of the desk as every nerve frayed at the ends. Warmth sprouting under your skin as his bulbous head knocked into the sweet spot in your cunt just right.

Bucky's thumb brushed over your lips, fucking you through the afterglow as you moaned softly. Your lips parting for him to press the pad of his thumb against your tongue.

"Fuck-" he groaned, hips stuttering when your lips closed around the digit. Half-lidded eyes never leaving his as he spilled into you with a guttural moan.

Riding through the aftershocks with shallow thrusts, Bucky hummed when your fingers laced in his hair. Leaning up to catch his lips in yours. Barely pulling away to mumbled against his lips.

"You're so amazing, Soldat."