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#stranger thins fan fic
msgexymunson · 1 year
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Kitten
Description: Eddie can't believe you're still his nice adorable kitten, even when he's buried inside you.
Warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda mean dom Eddie, sub fem reader, degradation, crying, pet names.
A/n: I dont know what to tell you. This is just filth that was floating around in the cesspool that is my brain. Enjoy my dirty girls. If you like it, please comment and reblog!
1k words
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"Please please please-" you moan into the empty air, unfeeling ears refusing to absorb the sounds. Sweating and clenching around thick fingers, you wiggle; a fish caught on a line, helpless, unable to break free. Your legs are draped across Eddie's lap, panties pulled to the side, your juices dripping all over his jeans.
Please what? Are you looking for more? Or are you looking to be set free? Its unclear; your pelvic movements are dragging you closer to his sodden cluch; wet, sticky sound of your release echoing everywhere, dampening the edge of your pleated mini skirt.
Disgusting sounds clog your ears; a soaken squelch pervades every sense, filling the room with a dirty, desolate want. A desire to be desiccated.
"Please, Eddie, please-"
"Please, oh please?" He mocks, thick fingers soaked with your release, a milky ring of your slick circling them.
"Please what? What do you want?" His mocking tone cuts through, humiliating you further, "tell me, or I can't give you what you need."
You know you never said, you want him to absorb knowledge at this point. He should know what you need. He does know what you need.
Your moans pierce the air while Eddie fucks you ceaselessly with thick fingers, pushing you towards sticky, squelching release. Again.
"Come on kitten, what do you need? You never said. Come on baby, you can do it." Thick, dastardly fingers continue to invade your cunt and push you to your breaking point. They know exactly what you need, but they want you to say. Your wanton moans are half the fun.
"Eddie, I need you to- please-"
"Please what? You let me bury my fingers in your pussy but you can't say the word fuck? You're fucking cute as hell kitten."
A blush smothers your cheeks, fuelled by his mocking and the heat between your legs.
"I need you inside me Eddie," you pout as his movements slow, still buried deep but his digits are rocking back and forth; so deep its bordering on painful, making you hiss.
"I am inside you kitten." He smirks when you huff, letting out a mirthless laugh.
Thighs quivering, you pull yourself nearer to his ear, your shaky breath a whisper.
"Please, I want your cock inside me. Please fuck me Eddie."
Eddie groans, eyes rolling back at your words. He pulls his fingers from you with a wet noise that makes you cringe. A smug smile stretches across his handsome features.
"See? I knew you could do it. That's my kitten."
Laying you gently down, he slowly pulls your sodden underwear off you, throwing them somewhere on the floor. His pants and boxers are next to go, leaving him naked, narrow hips slotting between your glistening thighs.
You reach to the side to unzip your skirt but Eddie bats your hands away. Rough hands flip your skirt up, exposing your slick soaked cunt. He pulls your tank top up to reveal your breasts, nipples hardening in the cooler air.
"You look so fucking hot like this. Such a dirty whore for me. Hmmm." Lust filled eyes drink in your form as he slowly fists his cock.
"Eddie, please." You frown up at him, hands balled into little fists.
"Stop being a brat and take what I give you." His voice is quiet, but hard. A threat dancing on his tongue. Looking up at him with wide eyes, your lip quivers.
"Aw, my little kitten gonna cry? I'll give you something to cry about."
He lines up his throbbing dick and rubs it through your glistening folds, gathering wetness, before pushing himself fully into you.
Tears rush to the corners of your eyes, pushed out by the sheer size of him. You gasp and grip his shoulders.
"Oh my God Eddie!"
"What's wrong kitten? Can't take it?" His lips draw into a condescending pout.
"No! I can Eddie, I can." You nod at him trying to convince him.
"Ok kitten if you're so sure..." as he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you, his hard member dragging against your sticky satin walls. The stretch was intense, leaving you groaning and gasping, a pretty mess just for Eddie.
A particularly deep thrust has you closing your eyes, moaning loudly.
"Yeah? That good baby?" You nod but its not enough.
"Hey, I asked you a question." He slows, making you grab his biceps, eyes widening.
"Yes, so good, please, don't stop!"
Eddie laughs and starts thrusting harder, faster. One hand keeps him upright, the other grasps you firmly by the jaw.
"You gotta look at me kitten. I wanna see you cum hard."
You stare into his dark eyes as you feel your world begin to unravel. The burning deep in your belly is threatening to spill out over your whole being.
"Eddie, oh my-" you're about to warn him when the feeling crashes over you, fluttering through your nerves, leaving you clenching around his length, whimpering your devotion to him.
"Fuck, you're so fucking pretty when you cum, holding me so tight, my dirty little girl, holy shit" his thrusts begin to falter, finally letting your jaw go, gripping so tight to your shoulder you think he'll leave finger print bruises.
"I'm gonna cum, where- fuck, where do you want it?"
"Inside me, please Eddie."
He breaks character for a moment. "Shit really? Are you sure?" As you nod emphatically, nails leaving red crescents in his back.
Features hard once again, he pounds into you even faster, "gonna fill this pussy up, just like you want, Jesus Christ!" Holding you close he releases deep inside of you. You can feel his dick throbbing, whining at the feeling.
Eddie collapses to the side of you, body shining in sweat. You allow your legs to slowly unfold, still quivering at the strength of your release.
"Sorry kitten if that was a bit much." He strokes your thigh, eyes seeking yours.
"Well you were a bit of a-"
"What princess? A douchbag? A prick?"
"A- a meanie."
Eddie's laugh echoes through the room. He scoops you in his arms.
"And you are an adorable little kitten."
Just tagging a couple of people who I know will enjoy this lol
@lunatictardis @munson-blurbs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @billybluboy @zestychili @eddiesprincess86 @cluz1babe @joejoequinnquinn @onehotgreasymechanic @eddiemunsonfuxks
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duhnova · 10 months
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bad girls make good boys cry | joshua hong
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pairing: virgin!joshua x experienced!reader (fem reader)
genre: smut, some fluff, academic love
word count: ~3.7k
synopsis: crying was never on joshua’s list of things to expect when he finally lost his virginity, but it’s more blissful than he could’ve imagined. 
warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni !!!), established relationship, virgin joshua, dacryphilia (shua kind of full on sobs), hand kink, breeding kink, begging, dick riding, hair pulling, marking kink, spit kink, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie
author notes: this is my retaliation towards @onlyhuis ,and also @lovelyhan ... i innocently self projected in my hannie fic and they in turn ATTACKED ME <3 and now im paying it back hehe.. also thank you @onlymingyus for proofreading for me.
series masterlist || join the taglist!
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when you and joshua decided to rent a study room in your university's library, neither of you accounted for how cold it would be. he was dressed in a thin button up shirt with a sweater vest and you had on a skirt, that sat a little high on your hips so the underside of your ass peaked out every time you lent over the table to reach for something you placed methodically out of reach so you could give your boyfriend the perfect view. 
“babe..” he mumbles, burying his face back in his textbook to hide his blush, the reading glasses he had on sliding down his nose a little as he reads the words on the page quietly to himself.
“hm?” you plop back down in the chair next to him with the highlighter dedicated to vocabulary words. 
“i’m all for you expressing yourself with your clothing but.. don’t you think your skirt is a little short?” he mumbles, side eyeing you as you innocently play with the hem of said skirt.
“maybe i did pull it up a little.. don’t you like it like this though shua?” you look at him with a pout that dripped with fake innocence. 
“i.. uh.” he stutters as he looks down at the skirt fanning over your thighs before looking up into your eyes, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he thinks of something to say that doesn’t make him sound completely stupid. 
“maybe a little shorter?” you mumble as you trail your fingers to the waist of your brown plaid skirt to pull it up more, your thighs on full display now as the only thing it covers is the white lacy panties you have on. 
“god.. don’t do that..” he mumbles, his fingers gripping the edge of his textbook tightly as he watches your fingers ghost back down to your thighs where you grab the hem of your skirt again.
“why not? too distracting?” your lips quirk up a little as he nods, watching as you slowly lift the hem, your panties barely becoming visible but he’s able to see the edge of a wet spot that has his cock twitching in his loose trousers. 
“y/n..” joshua is no stranger to your naked body, seeing it multiple times as you have no shame in changing in front of him, and he’s had his mouth on you once or twice before. 
he waited a long time to have his first time be special, wanting it to be with the right person - and if he’s being frank he never thought you’d be that person at first. you were beautiful and way out of his league. yet here you were, sitting next to him, teasing him with the thought of you being dripping wet for him and he’s never felt more sure about someone in his entire life.
“shua..” you flutter your eyelashes at him, knowing you were pushing buttons your boyfriend possibly didn’t know he had. 
“we’re in the library.” he mumbles as his eyes flicker off your body to look at the door that was very much locked.
“and we have the room all to ourselves for the next two hours,” you lick your lips as you watch him fidget, the gears turning in his head as he mulled over the idea of you two being in public. “we don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable though..” you place your skirt back over your thighs, pulling it down your hips so it was at an acceptable length. you might’ve liked to push his buttons to see how far you could go but you knew when to stop, your boyfriend’s comfort is more important than anything.
“i-” his hand shoots out and grabs your hand that was still holding on to the hem of your skirt. “i’m comfortable.. i just,” his eyes look at the door before looking down at you again. “the door is locked, right?” 
you fought so hard to hide the cheeky smile as you watched your boyfriend's eye’s darken the longer he stared at you. you nod your head quickly, offering to double check it but he doesn’t let you move far as he yanks you into his lap just as you stand up. 
“i trust you.” he whispers as he rests his hands on your hips allowing you to situate yourself comfortably on his lap. 
“are you sure this is what you want?” you mumble softly as you brush the strands of hair that fell out of his eyes. he gulps quietly as he nods, whispering a quiet ‘yes’ as he squeezes your hips harder. 
“i’ve always wanted you..” he whispers as he looks up into your eyes, his eyes completely blown with lust but his voice was steady with confidence. “need you so bad now.” 
“well i’m right here, baby.” you whisper against his lips before you’re kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips. your hips experimentally rock against his as he groans into your mouth, a shock of pleasure shooting through his body as his cock twitches in his pants. 
your body was far from foreign to joshua as his hands began to rub up and down your sides, his warm fingers slipping under your shirt before his hands dip under the waistband of your skirt so he can get two handfuls of your ass. his hands were warm and his nails dug into your plump flesh deliciously, ripping a quiet moan from you that broke the heavy makeout session. 
“why’d you pull away.” he pants quietly as he watches you through hooded eyes. he continued to knead at your ass as you bent over to the side to dig through your bag. 
“condom..” you mumble as you fished for the gold foil you always carried in your bag that you’d take to joshua's place just in case. 
“why?” he whined a little desperately. “you don’t want me to fill you up?” you could hear the pout in his voice as you froze, blood rushing to your face as your body began to heat up. 
“i-” he cuts you off by jerking your body so you are sitting up straight again. 
“i overheard you talking with your friends a while back about getting creampied..” his face began to heat up as he couldn’t make eye contact with you at first. “i.. i had to look it up but, i wanna creampie you.” he swallows the lump in his throat. 
“fuck..” you groan quietly biting your lip. the idea of him fucking you raw and cumming in you had a new wave of arousal soak your panties. “okay.” you whisper, burying your fingers in his hair again. moaning quietly, joshua's eyes flutter as he lets you tug his head back enough to give you a better angle to kiss him. 
you kiss him a little softer this time as you settle down on his lap, your warm cunt pressed fully against his painfully hard erection. you can’t help but giggle into the kiss when you feel him twitch below you before you start to rock your hips slowly. joshua has always had impeccable self control, being able to make you cum on his tongue, fingers, and thigh plenty of times without so much as breaking a sweat - however, right now all of that is out the window as you make feelings he was unfamiliar with rush through his body. 
“y/n..” he moans in between kisses, his hips sloppily bucking up against yours when you barely lift them to reposition yourself. gasping at the friction and force behind his hips you grip his hair tighter, the moan leaving your boyfriend was sinful. “sorry..” 
“it’s okay, you're just desperate aren’t you baby?” you smile at him as you pet his hair gently, soothing the sting from you pulling it. he nods his head quickly as he begins to roll his hips up into yours experimentally. 
“yes.. god yes.” he sounded desperate as he squeezed your ass cheeks harder. “please..” 
“please what baby?” you watched the way he bit his lip shyly. “use your words shua, i won’t do anything unless you ask for it.”
“please fuck me already.” he sounded breathless as he watched your eyes sparkle, the lust drowning out your irises as you sat up on your knees. joshua whines quietly at the loss of friction. “why-” 
“be a good boy and undo your pants for me baby.” he almost mewls at the words ‘good boy’ before he slips his hands out from your skirt to make quick work at undoing his belt and pants so he can push them down his thighs enough to give you access to his cock. 
“are you gonna keep your skirt on?” he licks his lips, watching the way you pull your skirt up higher on your torso so he can see the soaked lace of your panties peeking out from the bottom of the plaid material. 
“if you want me to take it off i will.” he shakes his head as he continues to watch your fingers hook onto the waistband of your panties, pulling the ruined material slowly down your thighs where you lift one leg at a time to pull them fully off.
“fuck..” he whispers at the sight of your bare pussy glistening in the poor study room light. “so pretty.”
“you think?” you giggle when he looks at you incredulously. 
“do i think so? of fucking course i do, every inch of you is beautiful.” you can’t help but scoff playfully, trying to hide the bashful smile threatening to make its way out.
“keep talking like that and i’ll gag you with these.” you hold your soaked panties up before balling them up and tucking them into the pocket of your jacket. 
“i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” he mumbles as his eyes drop back to your hands that are gingerly wrapped around the waistband of his boxers. 
“are you ready?” you look back up at him again, wanting one more verbal confirmation before you continue. 
“yes, i’ve been ready.” you give him a sweet smile before you finally tug his boxers down, freeing his cock that springs up and slaps against his sweater vest. 
“now that's pretty.” you lick your lips and wrap your fingers around the base, squeezing it gently causing joshua to hiss and buck his hips up. 
“god..” his ears get red as he tries to keep his eyes open to watch how your fingertips barely touch as you jerk your hand slowly up and down the full length of his cock. your thumb would come up to rub at his slit every couple strokes and every time he almost sobs in pleasure. 
“tell me when to stop.” you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw that was exposed to you after he threw his head back from the sheer force of the pleasure just your hand was causing. joshua was always a giver, he never expected, let alone asked you to go down on him after he had his chance to go down on you - so the feeling of your hand was new, and the look of adoration on your face when you saw his cock for the first time had his head spinning. 
it was almost like time slowed down when you rubbed the tip of his cock through your folds, his precum mixing with your juices. joshua can’t help but groan lowly at the feeling of your warmth before he's moaning louder when his tip becomes enveloped by your pussy. 
“fuck!” you stop moving when he moans out loudly, his fingers coming to dig into your hips. “slow.. go slow please.” you relax realizing you didn’t hurt him. everything was new to him and he didn’t want to cum just from the feeling of your walls hugging his tip. 
you began to sink down on him slower, his tip dragging agonizingly slow against your walls as you took a couple minutes to finally bottom him out inside you. joshua's legs shook gently along with yours, his from the overwhelming feeling of being squeezed by your pussy and you from never feeling so full before. 
“so.. big..” joshua groans quietly at the praise. you both took a couple minutes to recuperate before you slowly lifted your hips until just the tip was still inside and just when joshua went to question what you were doing you slammed your hips back down, drawing the loudest moan from joshua you had ever heard. 
“ah!~” his eyes roll at the sensation, his words coming out jumbled as you do that a couple more times before finally setting a steady pace. 
“that's it baby, let me take care of you.” joshua was completely relaxed in his chair, his eyes closed and his teeth digging into his lip as he tried to control his sounds so no one came knocking to investigate. 
“so, so warm.. you're so warm.” he babbles, his nails leaving crescent shapes in your hips. 
“am i?” you tangle your fingers in his hair again as he nods his head. “tell me more baby.” you whisper before moaning loud when he bucks his hips up in time with you pulling his hair. 
“be.. be good.” you struggle to talk as his hips keep instinctively bucking up into yours, his control slipping even more. “so bad.” you mumble as you let his hips jerk you forward against his body where he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close. 
“‘m not bad.” he whines trying to bury his face in your neck to muffle his moans more. 
“you’re such a bad boy,” you smirk at the way his cock twitches inside of you. “”so so bad shua, bad little whore who likes to get fucked in public.” you kiss sloppily at his jaw. 
“n-no, ngh~” he lets out a strangled moan when your pussy clenches around him when he hits that spongy spot inside of you that has your toes curling and your hand gripping his hair tighter. 
“can’t believe you wait this long just to have me fuck you in the university library shua.” you pull your head back enough to see his eyes were glassed over as he moaned louder, any shame of being heard going out the window. “you want me to fuck you in public more baby?” 
joshua nodded his head quickly, his voice lost to the constant moans and whines escaping his mouth. you smirk at the sight of tears finally welling in his eyes, the sadistic side of you coming out a little as you tug his hair more, jerking his head back and causing his mouth to fall open. taking a second to just admire the sight in front of you, you felt your heart swell at the fact he trusted you enough to make him feel this good. 
without wasting another beat you reach forward and nip at his tongue that is sticking out now. his eyes flutter and cross for a second before they close completely when you begin to suck on his tongue. 
everything was beginning to build up inside you both, his moans were beginning to get lost in his throat as his cock twitched more with each bounce of your hips. your legs were beginning to shake from exhaustion and from the building orgasm that was winding up quicker and quicker the more his tip hit your g-spot. 
“are you close, baby?” you whisper after letting his tongue go. 
“i-” his sentence is cut off with another wave of moans and whines as he squeezes his arms around you tighter. 
“i think you are.” you try to laugh but it comes out as a breathy moan instead as you rest your arms around his shoulders as you let your hips slow down a little. 
“no no no.”’ he begs as he starts to buck his hips into yours more quicker. he didn’t want the pleasure to stop as he found his own rhythm and confidence in his hips. 
“fuck, thats it baby,” you moan louder than you have. “right there shua! shit!” you whine, burying your face into his neck. 
joshua continued to thrust his hips up into you fast, his cock leaking precum into you until he felt a strange feeling building up his legs and back that caused his hips to stutter. 
“gonna cum?” you sit back up enough to see his nose scrunched up as he bit hard into his bottom lip to stifle his sounds. “that's it baby.” you begin to bounce quickly again, taking over the reins as you helped him reach his orgasm quicker. 
“fuck! god please, i’m gonna cum inside.. let… let me come inside. please!” joshua bubbles and tears up more as his first ever orgasm was right there. 
“cum shua, please please, cum inside me.” your orgasm was right there as well, the familiar warmth was filling your body as you leant forward to be pushed up against his body again. “give me your cum… your.. your.. fuck please baby. you feel so good.” 
with a strangled sob, joshua buries his face in your neck as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. your own orgasm finally washes over you as you sit fully on his cock, letting your pussy clench and unclench around him until he is milked dry. 
a quiet sniffle followed by tears hitting your neck causes you to panic and come out of your post orgasm haze quickly as you jerk away from joshua's body to see his eyes welled with tears and his eyes still hazy from his orgasm.
“joshua? joshua baby.” your voice was soft as you cupped his cheeks to tilt his head up so he was looking at you. “what's wrong baby? did.. did you not want his after all?” 
“no.. no i,”’ he sniffles as he closes his eyes and lets you gently wipe his tears away before you kiss his eyes and nose gently. “just a little overwhelmed i guess.” he mumbles before his eyes flutter open to look up at you again. 
“maybe doing this here wasn’t the best idea.” you gently rub your thumbs against his cheeks. 
“i couldn’t have thought of a better place actually.” he offers you a genuine smile, causing you to laugh quietly.
“really? you never imagined your first time being in a bed?” 
“i’m not that boring,” he pouts a little, his mind coming out of the haze. “but i never did imagine my first time being in our universities library.” he laughs quietly before groaning at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your warm pussy. 
“i’m glad this was memorable for you.” you lean forward to peck his nose again before finally standing up, wincing at the slight sting between your legs. 
“it was perfect.” his hands rubbed gently at your thighs as you stood in front of him for a couple seconds before shuffling out of his way so he could stand up as well to situate himself back into his pants. 
“that makes me so happy.” you smile brighter, grabbing your still wet panties from your pocket you slide them back on to make sure none of his cum drips out of you. “i'm hungry now, how does burgers and a milkshake sound?” 
“sounds amazing,” joshua begins to pack your stuff up, handing you things so you can put them in your bag that sat on the ground between your chairs. “lets find a bathroom too… fuck.” he groans when he looks over to see you bent over, putting your bags away. 
“what?” you stand up straight and tilt your head back to look at him as you swing your bag over your shoulder. 
“pull your skirt back down baby..” he couldn’t make eye contact with you as he stared at the wall ahead of you. 
“what? you just fucked my brains out and you're still embarrassed to see my ass?” you smile playfully as you wiggle your skirt back down to cover everything. 
“first of all, you rode me till i cried. second of all, i'm not embarrassed to see your ass… i just left hand prints on it that's all.” he mumbles the last part but you heard him loud and clear as you walked towards the door. 
“you what?” you turned and lifted your skirt like you were gonna be able to see them. “show me!” 
“show you?” he looked at you wide eyed. “how?” 
“take a picture! i wanna see my boyfriend's hand prints on my ass.” you pout as you turned and put your ass on display so he could pull his phone out and snap a picture really quick.
“here.”  he mumbles as he shows you his phone screen, where your ass was beautifully on display with two pretty red hand prints on it. 
“woah,” you could feel your face heating up again. “keep that.” you go to hand him his phone back before pulling it back again. “actually, let me make it your wallpaper.” 
“no no no,” he tried to get it back from you but you just giggly evilly while keeping it out of his reach. 
“don’t you want everyone to see how pretty you make my ass look?”
“fuck no.” he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back against his body. “only mine to see.” he pouts as he looks over your shoulder to see you had closed his phone already. 
“i’m only yours baby.” you giggle as you hand him his phone back and kiss his cheek before wiggling out of his grasp. “now let’s go find that bathroom and get some food.”
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steddieunderdogfics · 3 months
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This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!
An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:
24-Hour Diner
On Thin Ice
And the Sun will Rise
Bandaids for the Heart
Waking Up In Vegas
A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous
Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.
What is your writing process like?
It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!
Which fic are you most proud of?
“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.
How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?
I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!
When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?
I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.
What inspired On Thin Ice?
I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.
What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?
There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!
Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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yanderenightmare · 1 year
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i want yandere bully bakugou but like redemption kinda? like, after becoming a pro hero he tries asking darling out and treats her nicely and stuff, trying to make up for being a bully, but still yandere and kinda toxic???
BNHA ! FIC
Bakugou Katsuki x darling
TW: yandere, NSFW, dubcon, bullying, manipulation WC: 3.5k
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GIRLFRIEND
Normally, it would be strange to ask yourself why you’re someone’s girlfriend. But in your case, given who your boyfriend is, it would be weird not to doubt why. 
Part of the answer is that you wouldn’t know how to tell him no. 
But… more the question is,
why would he even ask you in the first place?
Try as you might, you couldn’t remember Kachan ever being interested in you in that way. Between calling you a quirkless flat-chested snot-nosed loser extra and telling you how your freckles made you look like you’d been rolling around in shit, he’d not once made you feel as though he was attracted to you in any way.
It had been nearly five years since your high school graduation. The last time you’d seen him. Other than on the news or posters on every corner of the city. Where in that time, he’d gone and made himself a renowned pro-hero. While you… 
Well… you’d made your own valid achievements. Though… not nearly amounting to anything as impressive as him.
Which was one of the big reasons why you felt so out of your depth. But not the only reason. And certainly not the main one.
You weren’t convinced it was Kachan when he’d first approached you. Something between meeting a celebrity and a ghost and some other thing you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that somewhat reminded you of the feeling of visiting someone in prison, you bet.
Granted, he, no doubt, still looked like Kachan. Though older, stronger, and taller now, he was still that ash-blonde red-eyed boy you used to know. 
It was still Kachan. With his signature straightforward thoroughness and, though more refined and with some resemblance of calm now, that same old brashness of his lurking beneath the trained attitude. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, nor did how his eyes demanded your attention, despite your wish to act like you didn’t recognize him.
You had expected him to growl at you, to laugh and mock you for working at a café, no mind to you being the assistant manager, as you were sure such a feat had no sway with someone as important as him. You’d in the least, if not the former, believed him to ignore you with a sneer. But, though he smirked, it wasn’t a smirk you were any used to. In fact, you’d actually go so far as to call it a smile.
He was still Kachan, but he'd become strange. A stranger, actually. A strange stranger who asked you out. Which is what made him so very strange a stranger to begin with. 
But not entirely a stranger as you were still, despite having grown up, a little afraid of what he’d do if you turned him down.
You thought he was joking at first. Playing his same old cruel schoolyard pranks despite being a full-grown man, not to mention one of the highest-ranking pro heroes in japan. But, for a mere joke, he sure seemed serious. Holding up the coffee line in wait for your answer, with fans recognizing him and looking at you as though you were insane for not answering and even more hardcore fans looking at him as though he was insane for asking you.
At least a dozen were filming. And the cardboard coffee cup ached more and more in your palm the longer you waited.
You didn’t really have a choice. 
Did you?
Your first date was a lot more expensive a taste than what you were used to. In fact, you realized you weren’t really used to being pampered at all. 
You felt underdressed even in the leather seats of his car and even more when the gold lighting of the restaurant dawned on you. 
Your breath thinned as you found yourself stared at by what felt like absolutely everyone as the two of you were led to your table overlooking the city.
Kachan noticed your flighty gaze and how you shared fluttering looks with the other people surrounding you and the marble floor, though never with him.
“You can’t blame them.” He said. And your doe-eyes finally returned his stare with an adorably puzzled look of your own. “Your own fault for looking like that.”
You paused, first instincts telling you how it in no way was a compliment, before realizing you were being silly before further deciding how it didn’t really matter. “It’s you they’re staring at. They’re just wondering who I am to be here with you.” You dismissed shyly, chewing the inside of your cheek. “And frankly, Kachan… so am I.”
He smiled, and you, without knowing how else you should respond, stilled in suspense until potentially prompted to move.
You were nervous enough around him from before without him acting so strangely, without him giving you those unfamiliar yet somewhat pleasant smiles you hadn’t even seen him use when addressing his fans on TV.
You would even go so far as to say he seemed to be admiring you. Or… you wouldn’t really know what to call it. 
A blush of drunkenness rouged his cheeks and sugared his eyes after the third glass of wine, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the same had happened to you.
You were a cute drunk, he thought. While a small quirk played in the corner of his lips on account of the heavy hoods pulled on over your eyes, and how your lips struggled to keep close and instead formed a pout so kissable, he was struggling not to reach over and take the offer.
But, not wanting to scare you away, he exercised restraint. On your behalf, because fuck knows you wouldn’t have done or said anything to stop him. He can see it on you even now. You haven’t got it in you. You never have. And you probably never will.
He asked you about your things. Knowing how you’ve heard about him from the news and every other channel and platform. Acting like your answers somewhat surprised him even though he’s been keeping close tabs on you as the media has on him. Probably even more so.
You’d put on a dress for him. It was nothing special compared to what he’d seen others wear at hero galas, but the thought alone was sweeter and more intoxicating than the wine in his glass. 
To think, he could just lift the frill and see you. Touch you. Feel you. He probably would have if he were still your bully, but over the expanse of his hero training, he’d realized he wasn’t any such silly thing as your enemy.
No… Pro-Hero Dynamight may have his admirers and his foes, but as for the man behind the mask.
Bakugou Katsuki,
is your number-one fan.
And he wasn’t embarrassed by it anymore. He wanted you to know it, wanted to smother you with it. He loved you. He wanted you. He needed you.
And he’d make sure no one else would dare even think about taking you from him. 
And he’d make sure the thought wouldn’t dare cross your mind either.
He announced your relationship in interviews, had it written on all his platforms, and told every single one of his pining fans. It hadn’t even been a week since you met, and he’d already claimed you before the world, and you…
Well, you didn’t really know what the fuck you were doing.
You’d been ambushed and stormed into surrender before you even knew what was happening. All that was left now was to try and… well… make peace with it. 
Kachan was like a new person. You were unsure whether that was a fact or just you trying to convince yourself you don’t feel his old self in how he brazenly puts his hands on you. Having you swallow your own shaky breaths as he wraps his heavy, hefty, muscled arms around your much smaller body.
Or how you fear being bitten, swallowing your heart, when he leans down to kiss you.
Even now, a week into your relationship, you’re still on edge. Awkwardly regarding yourself in his bathroom mirror. The one-week anniversary present he’d gotten for you lying open on the glass counter. 
Pretty shades of chiffon were still left inside the expensive box as you’d taken its primary contents and layered your naked self with them.
Dewdrops from your shower disturbed your reflection. Though within the streaks you’d made with your hand, anyone could see how clearly uncomfortable you were. Dressed in the new set of clothes he’d gotten you. 
Or… 
Clothes was a generous term for it as it was nothing more than silky lingerie. 
Rich red lined your skin in sexy floral patterns as the sheer lace perfectly caressed your curves in expensive designer you could never afford and transparent in a way you would never dare buy for yourself even if you could.
And along with the looming disorienting surreal understanding that your childhood bully was no doubt expecting to fuck you tonight, your chest felt tight, and your head was so horridly hot, reeling with memories, flashes in the reflection of the mirror staring back at you. Times you’d cry your eyes out for hours looking at yourself because the boy on the opposite side of the door had you convinced you were the ugliest thing in the entire world.
The dinner you’d shared together earlier must have made you sick since you could taste blood on your tongue, or perhaps it was just the hopeless situation. Nevertheless, you feared that if you left the safety of the bathroom now, you might just vomit from the fever. Or faint-
“You pass out in there?” Came a loud knock on the door, shaking you from your thoughts and reminding you to breathe again. “Come on out, I wanna see you. I don’t care if it’s a little tight.” He ordered, in a voice similar to the schoolyard punk that sometimes still haunts your dreams. Though now belonged to the man he’d grown into, the one waiting for you on his bed just behind the door.
You bit your lip, brows crinkling, a small sigh leaving you in the pitiful form of a whimper before you swallowed a mixture of pride and anxiety. Ripping your gaze from yourself, you made to unlock the door and reveal yourself.
You couldn’t look at him, but looking down at yourself was equally embarrassing, where you stood nearly naked in the nippy air of his bedroom while he, still fully dressed with suit and tie, sat patiently or impatiently waiting for you to come closer.
“Fuck-” He groaned, his tongue gracing the top row of his teeth as his eyes drank in the pretty sight of your perfect body all dressed up for him. 
You were too pretty to be this shy. But then again, that was probably his fault. 
“Come ‘ere.” He urged, wringing his blazer off and loosening his tie before throwing it to the single chair placed in the corner of the room, keenly watching as you took your small cautious steps until you were just within reach, where his hands hungrily pounced for you. 
His hot course fingers touched your skin with greed. Grabbing into your soft flesh, he pulled you to him. Having no reservations about what and how he touched, as his entire hand squeezed your ass like you were playdough.
“Sit.” He ordered while tugging you down on his lap. His thick arm wrapped around your waist as you sat on him like Santa. Fingering the straps of lace at your hip, he stared at your cute nipples through the see-through lace of your bra.
He popped open the first few buttons to his dark burgundy shirt, finding himself getting hotter, and you had to bite your lip at how tight the smooth silk of it was around his muscles and how warm he was against your naked skin. 
He hugged you closer against his chest, and your breathing thinned again into a tiny gasp, making him show teeth. “So skittish-” He chuckled, his voice softly amused while kneading your thigh in his toasty and textured palm. “You still afraid I'm gonna push you around like back in middle school?” He asked with a grin, his hot breath fanning against your neck while his lips ghosted the peachfuzz of your cheek.
You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, squeezing your thighs tighter together. Eyes bashfully staring down at the large bruise-knuckled paw petting your knee. Scars littered it like a cutting board.
“Come on…” He drawled as his hand lifted, leaving your thigh cold in its absence, where he made to handle your chin and cheek for you to look at him. “I ain't that shitty anymore, am I?”
You wiggled a bit on account of his raw ruby-red eyes connecting with your shy gaze. Ears on fire since teased by the smooth tone his voice had slipped into, surprised by how it slithered around your pounding heart and pooled in your gut and tickled your cunt where you sat on the bump on his slacks that only hardened the more you squirmed.
“No need to be scared, princess. I don’t bite like I used to. I promise~” He blew against your lips. “I've matured.”
The nickname princess sounded so similar to something else he used to call you. The memory of it taking an equal toll on your body as his touches, further making you shiver on goosebumps while his hand dipped from caressing your face to stroking the soft skin of your neck. Slipping between the valley of your breasts until he settled for cupping one of the two in his hand. Playing with the lace while teasing the visible nipple beneath, smiling once it perked beneath his fingertips.
“You've matured too, huh?” He added, his lips at your ear, ticklish and warm, making your head drum, a tiny squeak leaving you once he flicked your earlobe with his tongue. “You used to look like a little boy before.” He laughed, and you bounced and swallowed thickly as his hand dropped down to your lap again. This time close to your panty, where your thigh was fattest and most sensitive.
The other hand remained at your hip and pulled you even tighter against him while the former stroked the plush chunk of flesh, visibly getting drunk on your softness where his breath had become rugged with restraint.
“I mean, I didn't even think of you as a girl before you started wearing those cute little school skirts.” He reminisced. 
Elementary school…
When new uniforms separated boys from girls and you from him. 
“You fucked us up with that, y'know?” He scolded, giving you a harder squeeze. “You were one of the guys, and then, boom-” He tsked. “Suddenly, such a tease.”
Your brows furled as your lips pursed into a pout, while your stomach started to fold in all types of uneasy ways by the even darker shift in his tone. 
“Too pretty to play in the mud.” He scoffed in a whisper, his nose bumping your temple as you bowed your head even lower, swallowing thickly while suppressing the familiar urge to cry and beg him to stop. Almost expecting him to bite you. “Too pretty for me.”
“Ow-” His hands pinched you just a bit too recklessly, and you popped up from your seat on his lap with a jolt and a wince. 
“Sorry.” He offered lazily, keeping his hold on you. 
Spreading his thighs, he pulled you between them. 
“It’s hard to control myself.” He excused, his hands lowering on your waist as he leveled his head with your belly before crouching forward to cuddle you with his cheek. “You're just so fucking perfect.” He mumbled while giving the pinch mark on your thigh a kiss, his stubble scratching the delicate skin found there.
His words made your head ache, splitting you between contradicting emotions for him, tormenting you to the point that tears pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, dripping onto his shirt.
“Don’t cry.” He murmured while his warm worn thick fingers snaked about in between your spread legs and dragged heavily up the thin fabric protecting your cunt.
And despite everything, you still moaned out, though a somewhat feeble whine. And he voiced in another rumbling tone soaked with lust he no longer could contain.
“Let me make it up to you.”
You were a second later thrown down on your back with a bounce on the bed, where he undid the intricacies of your lace-up in a matter of split-felt moments like the single beat of your galloping heart. 
“I know you don’t trust me.” He added amidst the heat of his actions. “But I love you, princess-” He urged while kneeling near the bed-end, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”
No part of you was ready for him, but at the same time, all of you were too accepting. With the moan that spilled from your chest like overfilled honeycomb and how your hands stilled in surrender at the feel of his hot eager tongue meeting your cunt.
His spikey ashen hair tickled your thighs as the stubble on his chin and cheeks lightly scratched you with every word of worship his lips mouthed into your core. And your chest arched off the bed as you lost your mind to what you’d gotten yourself into.
Torn between fear of him and lust for him, wondering if you had any pride left in you whatsoever or if he’d finally tightened the chokehold and squeezed it free of any life.
His tongue focused on your clit as he raised a hand between you, filling you with one of his thick fingers. Smirking against your heat at the feel of you clenching on him.
He saw you grip the sheets in tiny fists and looked up to see you trying to hide your embarrassment in his pillows. Chuckling, he added another finger and listened to you whimper out a moan with an involuntary buck of your hips.
He began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt with his free hand, bottom to the top, wrestling it off with somewhat of a handicapped struggle. Growing impatient as he moved down to unzip himself, pulling down the restraints before tugging on his own needy arousal. With precum spilling in pearls from his head, the pent-up beast sprung with a surge against his abs as he jerked himself and continuously gorged on you. 
He dropped his pants and boxers entirely as he made to crawl on top of you, sloppy kisses laid in wet trails up your body while his fingers slipped from your cunt so both hands could grab into your soft thighs and spread them to each side of his torso until you felt the weight of his throbbing cock bob against your belly.
You looked down to see it blushed red and wet with arousal, swollen into a threat and pumped to attack you. He noticed your stare and how he made you squirm, prompting him to grab your chin and have you look up at him instead.
You were the tiniest thing beneath him. And under the shade of his dark red eyes, you had your heart in your throat as well as a never-ending thrum of whimpers.
“You ready for me, princess?” He asked with a kiss to your lips, smeared wet across your cheek to nip at your neck.
And though you were anything but certain, you still made to tell him what he wanted to hear. But, with his hot mouth softly biting all the weak spots on your throat, you could only hum in return. However, managing to give a slight nod while your hands lifted from the sheets. Caressing the warm toughness topping you, your gentle fingers slid over the toned muscles of his back, tangling themselves into the short ashen locks at his neck while your legs wrapped around his torso. 
All in an effort to tell him yes, as you were all but rendered speechless by the delicate way he handled you. 
You were as cute and timid with humility as always, he thought, like a breath of fresh air and clear blue skies after breaching the rubble and smoke of battle.
He cupped your breast in one hand, teasing your nipple between his thumb and index, and grabbed himself with the other. Rubbing his cockhead over your pearl and dipping in between your folds. 
He pushed inside, and you whined, tensing at the stretch, and he stopped as though worried. 
“You okay?” He asked, and your heart leaped while he messaged your hip in encouragement until you relaxed again before continuing.
He dug his hands into your thighs, spreading you wider as he bottomed out inside you. And your toes curled with your moan as you clenched around him, his teeth gritting at the tight fit while groaning right at your ear.
“Fuck-” He sighed, his lips ghosting your cheekbones as his eyes scanned your pretty face. Hugging onto him with your hands, with your legs pulling him closer. Moaning so sweetly, small little mews just for him.
He could never get enough of those sounds.
He was going to wait at least a month. He figured that would be enough time. Enough time to make all the right moves. He was going to date you, breed you, reunite you with his parents, reintroduce himself to yours, have you move in with him, and then endgame.
But with the ring box in the drawer right next to the bed, he thought he might as well…
There was no way you’d say no anyway. 
You’ve already let him get this far. 
There is just no way…
No way you’d dare. 
tip-jar: Kofi
2K notes · View notes
her-satanic-wiles · 6 months
Text
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October 25th
Pregnancy, Papa Emeritus I x Reader
Masterlist
Words: 2.7k.
Warnings: Pregnancy; pregnancy sex; (consensual) groping; cunnilingus (I absolutely did not steal this scene from a previous Primo fic I wrote and change it up slightly, I don’t know what you’re insinuating but it is unappreciated and how very dare you); praise kink (y’all should know me by now); body worship; mild breeding kink; multiple orgasms;
Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog
🔞 MDNI 🔞
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If Primo had his way, he would have you bed-ridden and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the Ministry. He wasn’t ever a possessive man, nor was he territorial, yet all that changed when you fell pregnant with his child. He hated members of the Clergy even so much as breathing in your direction, let alone looking at you or, Satan forbid, trying to hold a conversation with you. When other people made a reach for your pregnancy bump, he found himself slapping their hands away with his cane. That you were grateful for.
Apparently all personal space went out the window when you became pregnant, your baby bump was free real estate for strangers to touch without permission apparently. But you were always the bad guy when you told them to back off. You loved that Primo listened when you complained about it, and you were incredibly grateful that he was willing to take on the persona of the gumpy old man if it meant you could get some space.
However, behind closed doors, Primo was almost as bad as the rest of the world when it came to your personal space. He fussed, he worried, but he also groped. He simply could not keep his hands off you. Some of it was innocent, especially when he would come up behind you and gently lift your bump, giving you some respite from the heavy burden you had been carrying for so long. But most of the time his hands were just downright naughty with the places he gripped onto.
Your breasts were a particular favourite of his hands. Your pregnancy had made you grow everywhere, tits and ass included, and he was certainly a huge fan of this. The way you were now multiple cup sizes bigger, heavy with milk for your unborn baby - all maternal and ready to sustain the life you were creating. Not to mention the way you jiggled when you moved, the way your ass wobbled as you wandered around your chambers. He couldn’t help himself most of the time, he just had to have his hands on you.
The particular maternity dress you wore today was really pretty, and comfortable for you especially in the coolness of the Italian autumn. But it was particularly triggering for you partner given it showcased your breasts in the most perfect of ways, and fell over your hips giving you a tempting shape that he simply could not resist. All you were doing was standing there pouring yourself a glass of water. But that was a crime in Primo’s eyes that couldn’t go unpunished.
You felt his wandering hands over your hips, gloved digits stroking the clothed flesh and meandering upwards to cup your heavy breasts. His lips, hidden beneath his thin paint, caressed the back of your neck, tickling your sweet and sensitive spot. You giggled at the sensation, but couldn’t deny the instant arousal that flooded your cunt the second you felt his hands on your body. His arousal evident by the hardness pressed against your lower back, and transferring into you.
“What’s got into you?” You asked, turning your head to look at your partner over your shoulder.
“You look positively delectable, fiorellina.” He complimented, his voice muffled by your skin.
“You do realise we have meetings and many other things to do today, right?”
“Frankly, my dear,” he swivelled your hips and turned you around so he could see your face, “Non mi importa. Not when I want to ravish the mother of my child as she deserves, no?”
His lips met yours and grew more passionate the longer he was attached to you; his hands became more and more impatient with the clothes that were separating your body from his. Your own hands moved to grip his robes, pulling them upwards to have access to his hard cock. Primo hated wearing undergarments with his robes - they were long enough to cover everything so why would he bother with them? Though, with your pregnant belly, it was particularly difficult for you to play with him in the way you usually would - or even wanted to. “Papa.” You complained through kisses. “I can’t touch you.”
“To the bedroom, fiorellina. Let me touch you instead, sì?”
You nodded and wandered off to the bedroom, removing your panties when you got there and sitting on the bed to help you kick them off completely. When he walked into the bedroom, he helped you out of your dress, gently pulling the fabric off of you and kissing the exposed flesh. He always wanted to make sure you knew how he loved and appreciated you, even if he was rougher with you than he ought to be. Undressing you and giving you tender kisses was his way of doing that. Your bra was the next to go, and Primo groaned at the sight of your nipples, enlarged and erect, just begging to be played with and sucked on. He gave you one final kiss before sitting you back onto the bed.
“Lay back.” Primo ordered you, removing his mitre and placing it on the dresser where it usually sat. You did as he asked, lying back and watching him disrobe - naked in an instant. That thought always made you laugh.
He situated himself between your legs, staring at your glistening folds and taking in the glorious sight of them, wet and ready for him. Your swollen clit, red and aching, screaming at him to wrap his lips around them and provide you with the most pleasure. You were always ready for him at a moment’s notice before the pregnancy, but the hormones had made you ravenous and insatiable. Not that Primo was complaining, of course. You made him feel young again with the amount of times you wanted to mount him and take what you needed from him. He was always more than happy to oblige, enjoying his pregnant wife bouncing on his cock first thing in the morning.
He first placed kisses to your calves - gentle, soft pecks that were barely there, but sporadically timed so you didn’t know when they’d land. His fingertips delicately caressed any exposed flesh he could reach, adding another layer of sensation to the already soft touches. Though, you knew your thighs would be painted black and white from his paints transferring.
“Always so good for your Papa.” He whispered, his deep voice gravelly with decades of use. “Always so obedient and helpful.” His lips now had moved up to your pubic mound. You could feel his breath flow between your folds before he’d placed a kiss just above them, making you shiver in anticipation for that final touch.
Papa, at times, felt like a walking stereotype given his unmatched patience and languid movements. He liked to blame his age, but you knew he enjoyed torturing you slowly, like he was sustained from your frustrations alone. And so, when you had grown impatient and considered sitting up to tell him to let you please him instead, his tongue finally made contact. But this time it had no softness to it - this time he was brutal in his movements.
The initial lick was broad and rough, causing you to scream out unexpectedly. But this was soon followed by his lips suctioning themselves around your clit and sucking as hard as he could, giving you overwhelming pleasure that bordered on pain. With his mouth still closed around your clit, the tip of his tongue continued to work it in multiple directions, almost erratic with his ministrations. He continued like this for what seemed like eternity; his head even moving in all directions when he sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as lively as possible. Usually, such intense pleasure would have your hands flying to his bald head, but your rather large pregnancy belly stopped you from reaching him, and so you had to make do with the sheets below you, gripping onto them as tightly as you could for purchase and to keep yourself from floating away. All the while he remained face-first in your core, unrelenting and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak.
He pulled away briefly so that he could spit on his fingers, placing them inside you and tapping upwards as his mouth worked on your clitoris. He fully intended to be inside you today, and needed to stretch you out to accommodate his size. Though, of course, you appreciated the deep burn that came with his cock filling you up, he couldn’t bear to hurt you, especially while you were hyper-senstive with the hormones your body was pumping through you to create and sustain life. Your walls were extra slippery today, and your g-spot so tender that a single touch had your hips bucking upwards quickly at the shock, despite feeling him stretch you. You called out, much louder than intended at the feel of his fingers perfectly abusing that spot inside you, dragging the utmost pleasure from your body and playing you like a fiddle he’d been playing for years.
“P-Papa!” You breathed, your body feeling like it was on fire. Your hands shifted from the sheets to pinch and play with your nipples. “I’m so close, please - fuck! - Please don’t stop!”
Primo only grunted in response, adding a little extra vibration when he did. He refused to stop what he was doing because he knew you’d lose that feeling. Instead, he upped his movements and heightened the intensity, causing you to finally tip over the edge and climax all over his face. Your back arched and your mouth fell open, with a string of expletives tumbling out of it. And Primo only stopped when you sat up and pushed him away.
He certainly was a sight to see emerging from your wetness; his paint around his mouth had completely dissolved, showing you his swollen pink lips, soiled with your cunt. There was a lazy smile on his face, and a cackle in his throat at the sight of your exhausted face, your eyes half-closed in sleepiness and your mouth wide open as you tried to breathe in as much oxygen as your lungs would hold.
“Are you ready for me, fiorellina?” He asked you, kneeling on the bed and placing your thighs over his.
“Yes, Papa. Please fuck me.”
He groaned at the way your voice moaned the last three words, bottom lip catching between his teeth and eyes roaming lower and lower until he was staring at your cunt again. His cock was placed at your entrance, ready to push his way inside you; and fuck, when he finally did? It felt like magic.
Your sensitive walls welcomed him with proverbial open arms as he slowly sank deeper and deeper into the warm recesses of your cunt. The head of his cock gently kissed your cervix as though it were welcoming him home after being apart for so long. Every inch he fed into you felt delicious as it stretched you out to fit him like a glove; a torturous yet spectacular feeling until his hips were flush to yours and his mouth released a breath of relief followed by a sharp hiss. The noise you made as you felt him breach you went straight to his cock, making it twitch as it was going in, causing you to moan even louder. Had someone been playing with your clit, you were sure you would have cum instantly.
“Papa!” Your voice was a desperate whine, a plead for him to be closer to you, or even start moving inside you. You needed him to do something.
“I know, baby girl. I know. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You shudderred. “Please move!”
The first thrust was so intense you thought you were about to pass out, but all it was was a gentle movement. Your hands immediately moved back to the bed, clutching onto the sheets so tightly, you were ripping them from their tucked state. The second thrust felt just as good, and the third had your eyes rolling back. Soon enough, Primo had picked up the pace, rhythmic yet gentle movements that had your lungs gasping for air and your brain turn to mush. You, an educated and powerful woman, now lay a puddle of hormones and pleasure on your shared bed by the cock of a man significantly older than you.
The more he thrust, the more unbearable the feeling became. Your screams as an outlet to the sheer pleasure were not working anymore, and you’d now resorted to wrapping your teeth around the silk pillowcase that kept your head comfortable below you. Your back arched off the bed as much as it comfortably could, losing your mind even more now that his hips had picked up the pace. You were blissfully unaware of the way you looked, or how much you were making him suffer.
You were divine; a Goddess sent as a reward by Lucifer for all his hard work. Your body, carrying life that he’d helped create jiggling beneath him with the gentle force of his hips. Your thighs wobbling at the movements, your breasts, heavy, round and full, nice and plump and begging to be played with and sucked into his mouth. You always looked absolutely delicious, but right now you looked so tempting he almost wished you weren’t pregnant so he could fuck another baby into you this very moment. He released a deep, gutteral groan from your walls tightening around him after he’d told you that.
“Gonna keep pumping you full of kids, keep you knocked up as much as I can.” He continued. “You want that, fiorellina? You want me to keep fucking babies into you? Keep showing these fucks around the Ministry who you belong to?”
“Yes, Papa!” You screamed when you were finally able to release the pillow from your mouth.
His thumb came down to your clitoris and began rubbing circles in the tender bundle of nerves there, causing another scream to come out of you. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” He asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
You were almost sobbing. “No, Papa. I can’t.”
“Yes you can, fiorellina. Give me one more. Papa’s almost finished. One more.” He felt you tighten around him one more time as both his hand and his words tipped you over the edge. Your ears rang, your vision went white, your body tensed as he worked you through your second and final orgasm of the night. It felt as though you were exploding from the inside out, the feeling so powerful and incredible you could hardly breathe. All the while, despite the ringing, you could hear Primo in the distance somewhere talking you through it. “È tutto qui. That’s it, fiorellina. Breathe for me. Such a good girl for Papa. Cazzo! I’m gonna -”
Primo could barely finish his sentence before he stilled inside you, one final thrust that had him burying himself as deep as he could and emptying himself completely. Your sensitivity had you twitching each time he did, tightening involuntarily around him at each movement causing his orgasm to occur stronger than it usually did.
He pulled out and collapsed next to you, the room filled with nothing but your exhausted grunts and gasps for air at such an intense session. Eventually, when you were both strong enough, you made eye contact and laughed at each other despite nothing being funny. You wanted to move towards him and cuddle into him, but your body wasn’t responding the way you wanted it to today, so you settled for reaching for his hand.
Once you’d both calmed down, you began a conversation, filling the silence with more intimacy and sweetness as you still lay there recovering.
“Oh,” he said, remembering something important, “I will be home late tonight, fiorellina. My fratellini want an Uno night so I promised them I’d be there.”
“Good, it’s about time you got to spend some time with them. I know Papa Terzo has been down recently since they deposed him.”
“Sì. Thank you for understanding, amore mio.” He turned onto his side and cupped your opposite cheek, kissing the one closest to him. “Ti amo.”
“I love you, too.” You told him. “Now go tend to your garden. I need a nap. You’ve broken me.”
“Mi dispiace, fiorellina. Sleep well.”
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Previous Day ⛧ Next Day
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djarinsbeskar · 9 months
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HERE, THERE BE MONSTERS: THE MINOTAUR PART 2
A/N: Imagine not updating a fic for nearly two years... hah-- couldn't be me (sweats). But my Minotaur is one of my most darling boys and I just couldn't leave him sitting in my drafts. Special thanks to the #1 Minotaur fan probably ever @astroboots for giving this a look over and for being the biggest hype woman for out hornyed hero. Artwork by machiavellicro on deviantart!
Pairing: Minotaur!Din Djarin x Nymph!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ NO Minors)
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: gross misuse of mythology, mentions of unsolicited attention/dub-con, discrimination and prejudice, suggestive themes. Reminder that this is a MONSTER FUCKING fic, so be warned for future chapters.
NOTICE: I learned the new lay of the land, so there's no more taglist. Instead you can turn on notifications for @djarinsbeskar-writes to stay up to date.
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Day 1
The stars were veiled.
Something hovered just out of sight that impeded your view of them. They remained dim despite the darkness and shied their faces away from shining down on such a netherworld.
You’d never felt so alone.
Taken immediately from Hera’s court, the guards who had once addressed you as familiars, friends and lovers over the years escorted you to your prison with rough hands and cold hearts. In that moment, they became strangers to you, and you had to wonder if you ever knew any of them at all.
A sprawling void of space greeted you when you arrived. A no man’s land forsaken by the gods as unconquerable, and those that lived trapped within its ever-growing perimeter at the mercy of the beast that prowled with eerie bellows and heavy footfalls.
Half man, half beast. With the horns of a bull and the strength to match, you feared you wouldn’t survive the night as you were pushed unceremoniously through the outer hedge.
You squeaked – frightened – and stumbled through the dense brambles that should have prevented your entry, but instead dragged you in deeper with thorny, greedy branches snagging on soft skin and the wafer-thin linen of your dress.
You fell to your knees on the other side, hands sinking immediately into a morass of mossy, damp earth. Hair falling around you in a tangle, you blew at the strands futilely before giving up and used your hands to push them back instead.
Scrambling to your feet, the dainty sandals you normally wore were useless against this unrelenting land. You’d never had to worry about footwear before… you hardly even needed it dancing under the moonlight or swimming among the stars.
The breathless, euphoric laughter of that time felt eons ago as your lungs constricted with fear.
Just breathe, you coached yourself, in and out… in and out.
It wasn’t working.
Not when your eyes finally moved past the initial, blinding panic to take in your surroundings. What you could see of them, anyway. A coffin of shrubbery greeted you on all sides, so tall they practically eclipsed the sky, the air cloying with a simmering malice you were reluctant to inhale as it tightened around your windpipe with the flex of a brutal grip.
And still, your wracked breathing was too loud in the oppressive silence.
Disturbed carrion birds flying overhead made you jump, squeezing your eyes closed reflexively. A fell wind followed the birds, blowing through the maze ruthlessly. It howled and whipped up the detritus as you folded in on yourself for protection, screaming in your ears with the anguish of those who found themselves trapped here.
However, unlike their torment, the wind eventually passed, and you cracked an eye open warily.
The labyrinth had changed.
Already? You thought with a hitched sob, swallowing it soon after lest you burst into tears and never stop.
There hadn’t been a path behind you where you first fell through the hedging. But by the looks of the narrow stretch of dirt that eventually became clouded by fog, you were deeper into the labyrinth than you first anticipated.
The thought had your stomach sinking.
There went your plan to keep to the perimeter in the vain hope of possibly escaping. You had no choice but to follow the path, deeper into the maze and towards the maw of the beast that inhabited it.
The wind returned intermittently, sometimes changing the labyrinth, sometimes not. Sometimes, it revealed hidden holes between hedgerows that led to another pathway that – while thrilling initially – proved just as complex and endless as the path you escaped from.
Hours of walking and nothing changed.
You were completely lost.
Tears spilled freely down your face now as you tried to stifle the sobs that escaped on every hiccupped inhale when your doom finally dawned on you. No one was coming to save you. Your feet hurt, your dress was filthy, and you were freezing.
You just wanted to go home.
But there was no one to hear your sorrow or respond to your pain. No one to care for you or comfort you or tell you that everything would be okay. You were alone after an eternity of living amongst others.
How little you knew of your own self.
Your vision blurry, you swiped the back of your hand across your eyes to glance at the next intersection of more dreary hedges. Quelling your sniffles, you listened. Trying to pick out any sound that wasn’t the breeze or your misery. A din of chatter or a chime of music, a—
Wait.
You held your breath. Was that—?
There!
A faint gurgle of running water filled your heart with song. There was a river nearby! Or a stream at the very least. You wanted to squeal at just the sound of something other than the wind and rustling branches you’d been subjected to for the last few hours.
And a river meant you could finally bathe.
It was hardly the most useful thing you could’ve done. You should have been looking for shelter, for warmth, for company and safety in numbers, but just the thought of getting clean… it was something familiar and you couldn’t let it go. It was something you would do whether at home among the stars, in the residencies of various deities or indeed, even here, in hell.
Yes, you smiled as bravely as you could, a bath would make everything better.
But you still had to find said river and that proved more than difficult. It was nigh on impossible after several more hours of walking.
Your grand plan of keeping left as much as possible proved fruitless as you came upon two dead ends that forced you to double back until you were confused again. It seemed like the promise of getting clean was growing less and less likely, your feet aching, and spirit defeated.
What a cruel… cruel place…
It was during your pursuit of water, however, that you happened upon the first settlement unfortunate enough to have been swallowed by the maze.
Doors latched shut and chimney’s smoking, you mistook the warm glow behind shuttered windows for warm inhabitants. But this was the labyrinth. No one cared for a sobbing woman banging at their doors for help, whether she was innocent or not.
You carried the condemnation of a goddess and for that you were shunned by even those forsaken by Olympus.
“Please, help me…” you hiccupped, voice raw when your forehead met the cold wood of the last door you tried to no avail, self-pity turning your fear to fury for a white-hot second. “It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t me… he—”
Your voice broke as it rose, agony bringing you to your knees on the doorstep of indifference.
“Why won’t anyone listen!” You roared at the door, your face a mess of tears and a supernova of hurt illuminating your irises.
“Damnable woman!”
Everything that followed happened in a blur. The door flew open far enough for the man on the other side to shove you off his doorstep where you fell back on your bottom heavily.
“You’ll bring him here with all your wailing.” A frosty, uncompromising glare met you where the human looked down his nose at you. “Take your wickedness away. We might all be prisoners here, but do not think for a second that makes us the same. We were born into this hell, you were sentenced to it, filth.”
“But I—” You scrambled back to your knees only to be met with a bucket of dirty water that chilled you to the bone.
“There, consider it a gift.” He scoffed. “He won’t be able to smell you under all that for a while. Be grateful for this much and leave our village in peace!”
You sat frozen, in shock and unable to speak or move or do anything as the door was slammed in your face once more. Humans had… never treated you this way before and even though you knew their cruelty could rival the gods, it shook you to your core to be on the receiving end of both.
A rank smell made you gag, breaking your stony cage enough for you to get back up on shaky legs and leave.
Suddenly, scattered cottages became bear traps in your eyes, and you fled from them lest you get punished by their fiery teeth once again.
The maze was safer and, perhaps it was coincidence, but when you came across a lazily meandering river breaking the perpetual rows of hedging minutes later, you chose to believe the land had rewarded you for thinking as such. Turning your face up to the kraken-cruel clouds above, tears tracked through the stains on your face gratefully.
How odd… where before gifts of splendour hardly made you bat an eye; you’d never felt more thankful to an environment that was technically your foe for merely leading you to a river.
When you looked back down to take in your surroundings, you were shocked to see trees line the far side of the river in place of towering hedges. A forest lay within the maze, a fact you’d never heard about in rumours before. But then, an endless forest could be as disorienting as the labyrinth itself… so you didn’t count yourself lucky just yet.
But first… you stripped.
Down to the nude, your nipples pebbled at the cool air as you kicked off your ruined shoes to step into the gentle course of the water. Cold! You shivered. Accustomed to more tepid warm waters, the cold was startling on your soft body.
Baths here were less about enjoyment and more about brevity, you supposed.
You gave yourself a hurried wash, scrubbing yourself free of the dirt and grime and who knew what else had been in that water you’d been drenched in. Cupping the water over your hair, the back of your neck prickled from something other than the cold, but when you looked back, only ominous shadows greeted your paranoid gaze.
Right, you swallowed around the bulbous lump of fear in your throat, best not to linger. Something told you staying in one place for too long would spell disaster.
That in mind and with a wrinkle of your nose, you pulled back on your soiled dress with the promise to wash it during the daytime. A soaking dress during the night would only make things more miserable for you, after all.
And that was how you made your way into the forest, for nothing else if but a change of scenery and hopefully, a safe enough place to rest your weary, heartbroken bones.
It wasn’t half an hour later, though, that the same patch of grass where your dress had lain while you bathed was disturbed anew. A scent, tempered by filth that irritated his nostrils, cut through the bloodlust that guided him every night and caught his attention. That, and a trail of light powder clinging to the grass like morning dew.
It led him to the water’s edge, a great horned shadow that hushed even the rivers gentle gurgle when his eyes fell upon it.
The powder clung to him when he touched it, iridescent specks catching in the reflection of his dark eyes before he brought it to his muzzle and sniffed. His pupils dilated, starlight catching like kindling in the back of his mind, his body responding.
An exhaled plume of condensation sent the dust into the air where it scattered like the spray of blood from his last victim’s jugular.
Stardust…
He crouched low to find the scent again, picking it up over the water where his long tongue moved distractedly over his muzzle to catch what remained of the powder there. Suddenly, lust of a different kind rose to battle with his insatiable desire to spill blood, and the trajectory of his hunt changed.
A star had fallen into his domain, and he was going to find it.
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That Walk
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Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader
Summary || That walk. That goddamn walk of his that’s laced with [s]ex and confidence. Fuck, you can’t get enough of it.
Word Count || 524
Contents & Warnings || Smut, Fluff — [N]SFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, [e]xplicit content/language, [h]orny thoughts, alluding to [s]exual activities.
Authors Note || My submission for the One-Word Drabble @the-slumberparty My word is “walk”. A little bit of a different style of fic than I usually do, but I enjoyed it! Apologies for no readmore function on this. The gifs above just screws up the text below.
TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist
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You and your boyfriend Bucky planned to meet up in the park today for some coffee, cakes, and adventure.
You were waiting for him on a bench amongst the busy crowd—wearing a summer dress. The sun [k]issed your exposed [s]kin—making you feel warm and relaxed.
That was until you spotted him—and that relaxed exposure turned into need and fantasies.
Oh. My God! That walk. That goddamn walk of his.
The way he walked was Godlike. The kind that had [p]anties and [u]nderwear drop within a mile radius.
Your heart started racing, your mouth [s]alivating, and your [s]kin ignited in delicious tingles as you examined all of him.
Power, confidence, and [d]ominance were evident in his posture, in his every stride, as he walked, trying to locate you.
His arms swung back and forth with each step he took—so much ease in them. His fists balled up at his sides.
His [c]hest was puffed out, and his shoulders were broad as he swayed with each move he took.
His groin tightened against his jeans with each foot he took forward—no secret that he was absolutely packing in those pants.
His mouth remained in a thin line. His eyes narrowed as he searched around for you. His expression made him look rugged and [h]ard—so [s]exy beyond belief.
You had to stifle a whimper as you felt the ache and need in your [p]ussy—[t]hrobbing, [b]egging, yearning for his riveting [t]ouch—[t]ongue, fingers, and [c]ock.
If people weren’t around, you would have snaked your hand into your [p]anties and played with yourself.
As soon as he spotted you, the contrast between his demeanor before and now was massive. The man that previously exuded [s]ex and [s]in turned into a boy seeing his crush for the first time—mannerisms softening, and his face beamed bright with love and joy.
“Hi, doll!” He cheered.
As he walked over, you got up to your feet, [l]egs unsteady as you were still spellbound by his magic.
He hummed as he towered over you and cupped your cheek, leaning down to [k]iss the other before pressing a captivating one to your [l]ips. He lingered there for a moment, making you dizzier, before pulling away.
Your face was stunned—[l]ips slightly parted, and eyebrows shot up. And he noticed, furrowing his eyebrows.
“What is it, doll?”
“I-I… yo-your walk.”
“My what?”
“Your walk… fuck, it’s so [s]exy,” you breathe out.
“Is that so?”
His previous hold on you—soft and endearing—turned into a [r]ousing and demanding one. He palmed your [a]ss and pulled your flush into his broad [t]orso, ignoring the [d]irty looks from the strangers.
He leaned his head down, brushing his [l]ips against your ear. His warm breath fanned the sensitive [s]kin of your neck, making goosebumps erupt all over you. You purred in approval of his intoxicating [t]ouch.
“Fuck this date then,” he hummed, making you shiver, “let’s go home, and I’ll walk for you like that there, [n]aked.”
Oh God…
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Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!
Apologies for the [ ] on some words! I’m testing it out to see if I can evade getting a Label put on this.
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The Lost 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You stand in the doorway as S pulls taut a new fitted sheet over the corner of the mattress. You’re paralysed not only by your homecoming but from the echoes of your past. Your stomach is bound up with dread and horror as he calmly goes about the menial task.
He throws a top sheet over the bed, then the plaid quilt, folding it at the top in a military manner. The way he moves reminds you of a soldier; straight shoulders and rigid spine. He crosses to you, stopping just a foot away, “pillow?”
You hand over the flat pillow mindlessly. He puts it on the top of the bed and pats it, facing you once more.
“It’s all yours,” he declares.
You hug your dented cans and look down at the ripped labels. You can’t bring yourself to break the threshold. Your own room was only a shell, only a place to hide, but it was familiar and it was yours.
“Hey, you okay?” He approaches and you shrink in his shadow. You nod. No, you’re not. “Look, if you need anything, let me know,” he hooks a thumb in his pocket, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
You press your dry lips together and shudder. You eke out your own name in exchange. He looms as you feel him watching you.
“Hungry?” He wonders as you cradle the cans.
You shake your head. He steps back and gestures with his arm. You take the wordless invitation, more a command, and move past the invisible border of his territory. He backs up and goes to the tall dresser, pulling out a drawer as he pulls out a few pieces of clothing.
“You can put your things on top,” he says, “keep it safe for the night.”
“Sure,” you near and place the cans one at a time on the barren surface. He shoves a draw in and hugs the thin stack of clothing under his arm.
“Not much protein,” he comments.
You shy away and wring your hands, pacing, unsettled by the strange surroundings. You don’t respond. Food is food. You remember the aftermath in Sokovia and the people fighting in dust and shrapnel for a bag of oats. The chaos that brought on even more destruction.
“There’s a fan, I use it for white noise,” he shifts his tone, “if you get cold, there’s an extra blanket in the bottom drawer.”
“Thank you, sir,” you accept, keeping your back to him.
“Right, I’ll leave you alone,” he sniffs, “you know where to find me.”
You hum flatly and wait for him to leave. His footfalls trail to the door and stop. The hinges whisper halfway, “lock this.” The door closes with a snap and you flinch.
You turn and rush without thinking to obey. Your hand shakes as you twist the deadbolt into place. You keep your hand on the brass knob and shiver. You’re tired and weak and you lied, you’re hungry as hell.
You drag yourself away from the door and near the bed, staring at the plaid quilt as you cross your arms. The room smells like him. It’s not an unpleasant smell, it’s the same scent that lingers in the bathroom after him.
You reach to touch the bed and lean on it. The cottony smell of detergent rises from the clean blankets. Your own room always had a tinge of mildew in the air. You cautiously turn and sit on the foot of the bed to unlace your shoes.
It’s a shattering feeling. The world before you is dull as the past blazes vividly in your head. How did it come to this? How did you get lost in this faraway land? Everything you had is gone and you’re left with nothing. You barely even have yourself. You’re not who you were. You’re as much a stranger as the man on the other side of the wall.
You roll out your shoulders and stretch your arms as you stand again. You’re exhausted but restless, walking in circles as you try to convince yourself to lay down. You near the lamp by the bed and click it off. You have to work again tomorrow, you can’t be up all night driving yourself crazy.
You peel back the blanket and slip beneath, still in the same clothes you wore all day. You close your eyes but just as quickly, they flick open. You lay flat on your back and huff. You languish in the silence of the house, the creaks and cracks of the old structure tweaking your nerves. The traffic whooshes past on the street and the hollers of the nocturnal crowds carry in the wind.
You roll over and hide under the blanket as your eyes tinge. You sniffle as the day washes over you again. S, or Steve’s deep growl ripples through you. He sounded so dangerous when he spoke to that man. And he’s so big and strong and you’re just as helpless against him as that creep.
You reach to turn on the fan, hoping it can drown out the noise and your own thoughts. The cool air glosses over our face as you wrap yourself in the quilt and top sheet. You squeeze your eyelids tight, giving into the fire burning behind them. Sleep, that’s the only solace left to you in this world.
Then the dreams rise and crash upon you. Blue skies turning black with smoke, the air thick with acrid dust and the iron taste of blood. Screams tear through your ear drums as deafening bangs shake the earth beneath your feet. You run and run and run, the world raining down on you.
You turn a corner only for the buildings to shake and begin to fall. You stumble back and spin, racing in the other direction. Another street collapses as you barely keep your heels ahead of the destruction.
One of those things, metallic and deadly, swoops down at you, its eyes glowing red and its sonorous voice promising your doom. You throw up your arm and another stronger shield gets in the way. The slice of the object through the air ends with the violent impact of metal on metal, a man in blue kicking away the corpse of the robotic villain.
He turns to face you, the hero in his cowl. So they call him but how can he be a saviour? It is his own friend who brought about this attack, who created the very creatures ripping up the earth and razing the air. His blue eyes gleam behind his mask but as he opens his mouth to speak, the world flashes red.
You wake with a start, out of breath as tears stream down your cheeks. You push yourself up on your elbows as the darkness shifts and a shadow passes over you. You babble as you struggle to sit up. The door is wide open as a figure stands at the foot of the bed.
“Sorry…” Steve rasps as he seems to jolt out of a trance, “I forgot something…”
He goes to the dresser and slides out the drawer. You hold your breath, frozen in terror as you watch him. He doesn’t look at you as he fishes out some unseen item and just as quickly marches back to the door. The light from the hallway illuminates him but you see nothing in his hand.
He eases the door shut and the deadlock twists from the other side as the key grinds in the slot. You fall flat and whine as you’re struck by a new way of helplessness. You know better than to believe that heroes exist. Especially here.
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multifandomfanfic · 10 months
Note
you should totally do a messi x daughter fanfic. One where she is in a relationship with Kylian Mbappe’s brother, Ethan Mbappe.
I love you writing btw. it’s awesome. Keep the good work!
A/N: So about this request--seeing as Ethan Mbappe is underage, I'm uncomfortable writing something for him. I'll do the fic with Kylian Mbappe instead, but I'm sorry, I won't do Ethan seeing as he's 16 and barely even legal in France.
I also combined it with this request: "will u make a fan fiction about Messi x daughter in which the daughter is an actress and they all go to a, premiere or an award show where she is nominated (and she wins), with her. Also an after party part will be good!"
Face claim for most photos: Haley Lu Richardson
Messi x daughter!actress!reader (also Mbappe x reader)
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yourusername
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liked by leomessi, sydney_sweeney, dannyramirez, and 3,328,498 others
yourusername: tiempo familiar, pt. 1
monicabarbaro: this movie better be good if you dyed your hair for it 😭
yourusername: i promise its worth the wait!! chrishemsworth: I can attest to that!
leomessi: Te ves hermosa, cariño! (translated from Spanish: "You look beautiful, sweetie!")
comment liked by antonelaroccuzzo and yourusername yourusername: gracias papa🥺 antonelaroccuzzo: 💕💕💕
neymarjr: obrigado por vir ao jogo, y/n, foi bom ver você de novo! (translated from Portuguese: "thanks for coming to the match, y/n, it was good to see you again!")
yourusername: you too! ❤️ user307: 👀
fanaccount1: how is she so pretty as a blonde and brunette???? she's so lucky
user203: she's literally anto roccuzzo's daughter be fr
user892: my favorite nepo baby
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yourusername added to their story
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celebritygossip
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liked by pierregasly, ethanmbappe, and 837,238 others
celebritygossip: The first photo was posted on @yourusername;s story yesterday morning. The second one was posted by @k.mbappe just hours afterwards. Coincidence? We think not.
user487: i'm not sold at all but i'm glad it's not (possibly) neymar. i was not for the whole age-gap, dad's best friend thing.
fanaccount2: Totally agree. user008: me three, but we really shouldn't have any opinions on who y/n dates. we don't know her. fanaccount3: no one asked you to act all high and mighty.
user918: Y/N could have any man in the world and she choses someone who looks like a teenage mutant ninja turtle.
fanaccount4: She said we'll find out eventually, maybe this is it??
user773: i don't think she meant some random gossip account 'connecting the dots.' we still have to wait
yourusername
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liked by leomessi, k.mbappe, glenpowell, and 2,385,019 others
yourusername: "Figures and Strangers" has officially ended production. I would like to thank everyone who I've worked with on this project; you have made every moment of this past year special, and I will remember our time together for the rest of my life.
"Figures and Strangers" is about family, love, and perseverance in the midst of hard times. While I may not have had hard times, the other themes of this movie pertained to my life when I auditioned:
Without my family's unwavering support and direction, I would not be where I am today; seriously, without my father, I wouldn't have been tipped off about Spielberg shooting his first film in Paris, and I would not be typing this today.
A year ago, I had gone on one date with the man I now call my love. Since that day, he has been with me through thick and thin: from nights spent crying over hard-to-memorize lines, to entire weeks when I was hardly home. He saw me through my highs in lows, through enjoying life then doubting every choice I've ever made. Honestly, I believe he's more love and understanding than man. I would have never known the man my father introduced me to would be such a blessing, but I am so glad to call him mine.
And, finally, perseverance: when I heard about this movie, I was still struggling with the notion that all I would ever be was my dad's child. I love my dad with all my heart and all my soul, but seeing myself called "Lionel Messi's daughter" instead of "Y/N Messi" in headlines about my own accomplishments damaged my self-esteem (not to mention all the "nepo baby" comments--yes, I read all of those). Yet, all of this motivated me to work even harder and persevere, as my character in "Figures and Strangers" does. I am glad to say that I am happy with where I stand right now, and I have made myself proud.
Anyways, to wrap this up, I'll quote the ever so wise Winnie the Pooh by saying how lucky I am having something that makes saying goodbye so hard. I am eternally grateful for everything that has happened in the past year because of "Figures and Strangers," and how it has transformed me as a person.
Thank you all again, and I'll see you in the movies.
~ Y/N Messi
leomessi: También nos has hecho sentir orgullosas, Y/N. (translated from Spanish: "You have also made us proud, Y/N.")
yourusername: muchas gracias, papá. te amo más de lo que sabes. ("thank you very much, dad. i love you more than you know.") comment liked by leomessi and antonellaroccuzzo
zoeisabellakravitz: Best Actress nom when
evanpetes: can't wait to see it!
psg: All of us are so happy for you!
comment liked by yourusername, k.mbappe, neymarjr, and leomessi
masonmount: seriously, y/n, congrats on everything. you deserve all the awards.
yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️ fanaccount5: guys???
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k.mbappe
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liked by celebritygossip, yourusername, chloegmoretz, and 3,389,291 others
k.mbappe: 🖤🤍
tagged: yourusername
chrishemsworth: Had a fun premiere with you both! Here's to more success yet to come!
comment liked by anyataylorjoy, jayrellis, and k.mbappe yourusername: you too!!
antonelaroccuzzo: You look stunning, sweetie 💕
yourusername: thank you mom 🥺🥺
fanaccount6: WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH
user940: how did we NOT see this coming it makes so much sense yourusername: i told you you'd find out eventually 😉
fanaccount7: they're so perfect omg????
user038: my wife and husband
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leomessi
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liked by yourusername, cmpulisic, leonardodicaprio, and 7,289,064 others
leomessi: (translated from Spanish) I couldn't be more proud of my daughter tonight. I remember the little plays you used to put on with your cousins and brothers, and today I watched you walk across the Oscars' stage to accept the Best Actress award. All of your hard work and dedication has paid off, and you've truly made a name for yourself. Congratulations on everything you've done and will accomplish in the future. I love you very much.
tagged: yourusername
yourusername: i'm going to cry dad! i love you too!
antonelaroccuzzo: We're both thrilled for you, Y/N. You've exceeded our expectations and turned into an incredible young woman.
yourusername: thanks mom!
k.mbappe: proud to call you mine💕
comment liked by yourusername leomessi: Take care of her!
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yourusername
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liked by k.mbappe, keleighteller, antonelaroccuzzo, and 3,510,389 others
yourusername: can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you
tagged: k.mbappe
k.mbappe: mon amour ❤️
leomessi: The best daughter and son-in-law a man could ask for.
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munsonthings86 · 1 year
Text
angels and demons
pairing: modern!eddie munson x fem!reader [also rockstar!eddie munson]
summary: who knew corroded coffin's eddie munson had a thing for his publicist's best friend? and who knew she felt the same way toward him?
warnings: "feminine" terms used, a bit of a slow burn, cursing, alcohol, marijuana, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, dirty smut, public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, praise, switch!eddie, switch!reader, no protection (use protection pls)
an: haven't written a fic in over four years but it's 2023 and this man still has a hold on me. so naturally, I decided to revamp and finish this fic that was collecting dust in my drafts. don't copy my shit seeing as it literally took me years to finish. minors dni. everyone else, enjoy.
wc: 11.6k [whoops]
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Brushing through the ends of my hair, weeding out the remaining tangles, I kept my attention fixed on my close companion, Avery, as she yammered and rambled on, mainly pertaining to her exhilaration at her birthday ultimately making its arrival after enduring a seemingly endless year. 
Working as a well-trusted publicist (doubling as a musician in her downtime), she spent the better part of her days ensuring and upholding the positive reputation of some even the most questionable celebrities. 
Though she only entered the field due to her long-lived obsession with the enigmatic, fast-paced celebrity lifestyle, Avery had a deep desire to be the best at her job, rarely delegating time off to care for herself. This was the one time of the year she was free to loosen up, let her hair down, and be the wild spirit she truly was. 
She’d exhausted much of her time and patience into planning the celebration, ensuring that no detail was left overlooked. 
Perched beside me, she gently caressed a small makeup brush dusted with powder of a petal pink hue across her eyelid. She subconsciously bounced her leg high and low, and an obvious bearing of anxiety painted an unpleasant expression along her features. I soon took notice, resting a comforting hand against her shoulder. “Don’t be so nervous, everything will go as planned. We’ll have tons of fun,” I assured, offering a small smile. 
“Thanks, [Y/N]. I just always get nervous about these things. But, yes, we will have tons of fun. Especially you, baby,” she smirks at her own sneakiness. Avery quickly glances at me, throwing a side eye to observe my reaction. 
She’d been making sly comments since we’d begun getting ready together, about my impending enjoyment at the party. “Why do you keep doing that? Making those comments? You’re not telling me something, I can tell. You’ve been a bad liar since we were kids,” I reply, returning a face of suspicion. 
 “Me? Up to something? I don’t think so. Maybe you’re just reading into it too much.” Avery’s eyelids meet quickly before she sprays a mist of setting spray across the surface of her face, using a folding fan to dry her skin of any excess fluid. She runs her slender fingers through her highlighted locks, taking final looks at herself before leaving. 
Truthfully, it was nearing two hours since the party actually commenced, but with Avery being who she was, she felt as though being fashionably late was a complete must. 
And with me being her right hand, I was compelled to be unreasonably tardy with her. 
Avery and I strolled over to the full body mirror mounted on the bedroom’s door, gussying ourselves up, adjusting anything that seemed to be out of place with our appearances.
Avery had a monochromatic outfit of white; a white leather top adorned with a matching skirt covering very little of her body, with white thigh-high boots protecting most of her legs, and a pale lengthy jacket draping her shoulders. She occupied her hand with a small purse, throwing thin black shades over her eyes. 
I wore the same style of monochromacy, sporting a candy red velvet cropped tank top, with bellbottom pants of the same material and hue to match. Red chunky platform heels failed to cover much of my feet and my hair sat in place with the help of red hair pins as accessories. 
Avery chose the theme of her party to be ‘angels and demons’, urging her invitees to dress in either red or white, depending on which they wanted to be. 
She captures multiple pictures of us posing in the mirror for her social media to post later on into the night, avoiding a premature reveal of our outfits for those attending the party, who were still awaiting our arrival. “Come on, babes. Let’s not keep them waiting anymore,” she spoke after saving the images and shoving her phone into her purse. 
“You’re telling me,” I rolled my eyes, following her out the entrance. I tread behind Avery down the walkway of the house, carefully, considering my unfamiliarity with wearing heels. 
Entering the colossal, midnight-colored Cadillac Escapade Avery rented for the special night, we gave the incredibly patient chauffeur a signal to navigate us to the nightclub. The car slightly shakes after he turns the key in the ignition, switching on the engine. 
I wrap the material of the seatbelt around myself, securing my frame to the seat. Avery mimics my actions, peering at me with a sly grin, subsequently. “Oh my gosh, Avery, what are you hiding? You have that look on your face,” I spoke, staring at her doubtfully. 
An over-exaggerated expression of dismay morphs her features in reaction to my utterance. “Why do you keep thinking I’m hiding something from you? I’m just doing me,” she laughs, scrolling through her phone, before replying to a text. 
“Who’s that,” I ask jokingly, using my fingers to form imaginary binoculars around my eyes, slightly leaning closer. She hurriedly jerks her phone away, out of my sight. “See! I knew you were lying. I always know when you’re plotting something. Now tell me, what is it,” I asked, not letting up on my intense glare. 
“Fine, you caught me! But I’m still not saying a word. You’ll just have to find out when we get there,” she replies, maintaining secrecy. “I hate you,” I retort, shaking my head, starting to explore my phone as well. 
“Oh, trust me. You’ll be loving me in a minute,” she smiles a wide toothy grin, returning to her phone as I roll my eyes. 
The car ride to the hotspot was a rather brief one at the expense of Avery living not too far out from the city, where all the popular clubs of the area were based. Fans and tourists began to congest the streets, jumping in eagerness upon witnessing the immense luxury vehicle arrive. Nearly everyone had their phones glued to their hands, ready to snap pictures and record videos of the birthday girl’s emergence. 
The chauffeur was the first to exit the vehicle, unlocking the car door to the right, where I was seated, in order for Avery to crawl out behind me to create suspense.
The door opens as warm air noticeably invades the rather brisk draft in the vehicle, and I step out causing a majority of the crowd to hoot and holler due to their familiarity with me. I politely wave and smile at everyone, still not accustomed to the vast amount of attention I’d received. 
The screams of elation and adoration are nothing less than amplified when Avery appears, beaming from one ear to the other. She walks closer to the gathering, leaving them with hugs and kisses in thank you for their support. Meanwhile, I gave my best attempt in avoiding eye contact with the mob, as the bright lights from their cameras made it difficult for my eyes to focus. 
“Thank you for the birthday wishes, everyone,” Avery yelled for everyone to be able to hear, blowing kisses to the rest of the crowd who she didn’t have the opportunity to meet with. 
It was a mystery how this many people, who didn’t receive a formal invitation, discovered the location of Avery’s celebration, seeing as it was never disclosed on social media by either of us. Or anyone on the invite list, for that matter.
Avery always believed I was only teasing when I theorized that her supporters would excel being undercover detectives based on just how instantaneously they were able to piece things together, but maybe now she’d start actually believing it herself. 
I tapped Avery lightly, signaling to her that it was time for us to go inside. She says her final goodbyes to the sea of people outside, locking her arm through mine, the both of us striding inside the already electric building. 
[Eddie’s POV]
Gareth, my close friend, and I sat at the bar of the nightclub our publicist, Avery, invited us to, to celebrate her highly anticipated birthday. We, more so I, had ordered drinks to loosen ourselves up considering how apprehensive we normally became attending parties. If I was being utterly transparent, I’d admit that I was only accompanying Gareth along with the rest of Corroded Coffin, simply to meet Avery’s close friend, [Y/N]. 
Never was I capable of deciphering my infatuation with her, but that’s exactly what was drawing me closer to her. Her mystery, her nature, her mannerisms, her attitude, her body, was a drug in disguise and each time that I looked at or even thought about her, I became more addicted. And the only rehabilitation was to get my first dose.
I was aware of how improper it was to feel such emotions towards someone that I’d never formally met, but like I said, I’m incapable of controlling or explaining it. 
The sound of thunderous applause and shouts make it difficult for my thoughts to not be disrupted, somewhat making me displeased, but that was abruptly reformed into ample pleasure at the sight of her. My brain configured an illusion of everyone and everything in the room becoming blurry but keeping her so distinct, so clear. 
The way her hips moved with every step she took. The way her clothes clung onto her silky, glowing skin. Even the way she slightly bit her lip as she smiled. Everything about her was so enticing. 
My forearm jerked forward at the contact of Gareth’s elbow nudging mine, attaining my attention. Quickly glancing at him, then at the rest of the applauding attendees, I follow suit and cheer Avery on, but keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. She shyly smiled and waved at those who took the time to acknowledge her, letting Avery consume the spotlight. 
As she began closing the distance between us, greeting those around her, her eyes met my brown ones before I felt a rush of heat proliferate within me. She seemed to have been staggered upon noticing my presence, but my subconscious gave the impression to be ignorant to it, as I sensed the tension in my body heighten. 
She looked frantic as she stumbled her way back to Avery’s side, agitatedly whispering in her ear about what seemed to be my attendance. Her fingers moved analogous to that she was playing a piano that wasn’t there, a nervous tendency I’d observed she had. Avery scanned her eyes across the herd of people in my proximity until her pupils landed on me before a smirk crept onto her face in satisfaction. 
She messaged me earlier, nearly begging me to attend the party, to which I denied on multiple occasions. Upon putting full thought on the subject, I inquired about [Y/N]’s possible appearance, deciding that I’d only go if she would as well. And already, before the night has even had the chance to begin, I was enjoying myself. 
“You’ve got to stop looking at her like that, Eddie,” Gareth commented, shaking his head, almost disappointedly at me. I softly chuckled at him and took another swig of the beer in the glass cup before replying. “Looking at her like what?”
He returns my questions with a knowing look, “Like you want to eat her.”
“I kinda do.”
[Y/N]’s POV]
A sudden wave of uneasiness washes over me, as butterflies in my stomach began to flutter about, upon my eyes meeting his own. Only Avery knew of my slight obsession with him and taking into consideration just how much Eddie was reluctant to attend parties, I conspired that this had to have been Avery’s doing. I stumbled my way over to her side, pulling her closer to me to avoid bystanders possibly eavesdropping. 
“Avery, why is Eddie Munson here? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it? You said none of your clients were gonna be here,” I whispered, agitatedly. 
Her eyes scanned through the cluster of people in our area, until they landed on Eddie, a smirk crawling its way onto her face. My fingers wiggle about, as it was a nervous mannerism of mine before I used them to poke Avery to get her to stop drawing Eddie’s attention our way, though I seemed to be doing that all on my own. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed his attentiveness shift to his bandmate who’d begun conversing with him.
“Oh, come on, don’t act mad. You’ve been practically obsessed with him for so long now. Even before he became one of my clients. This may seem bad to you, but trust me, this is a blessing in disguise. Actually, it isn’t in disguise at all, I mean do you see him? That man is so pretty. You better get him before I do,” Avery teased, taking a sip of whatever drink it was she had in her cup. 
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed way better,” I said, wistfully, lowering my eyes to my feet. 
“Girl, you look amazing. With you looking like that, he’ll be all over you tonight,” she winked at me before her eyes grew wide. “Alright, be cool. He’s coming over here.” 
“Bitch, what,” I whispered forcefully as full-fledged panic invaded my body, running from my head down to my painted toes. Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on my pants, I let out a short breath, giving Avery a nervous smile, turning to meet Eddie. 
Words escape my brain as I nearly bump into him, drunk partygoers’ uncoordinated stumbling along to the loud music nudging our bodies closer together. His warm, glossy brown eyes bore into mine, eyelids low from what I presume is caused by marijuana and alcohol intoxication. His wild curly hair drapes over his shoulders, perfectly framing his face as he stares at me, lips slightly parted. Fiddling with the bulky silver rings consuming his fingers, which I soon become distracted by, he flashes a smile, extending a friendly hand. 
“Hi, I’m Eddie,” his calloused fingers softly scratch against mine as he shakes my hand. “You must be [Y/N].” I furrow my eyebrows, perplexed as to how he knew my name and general existence. I was more than aware of the fact that Eddie had a dislike for social media and had no known public accounts; information that I later thanked Avery for acquiring. Unless Avery had been in Eddie’s ear acting as my wing-woman, there really was no other explanation as to how he knew of me. 
Looking back at Avery tight-lipped, knowing that my theory of her attempting to play cupid was not just merely suspicions but instead reality, she shrugs, smiling before taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah,” I awkwardly smile, dusting my hands off on my clothes.
Normally, conversation came easily to me. Rarely did I ever find myself speechless. But with Eddie standing inches away from me, wavy bangs curtaining his eyes, red leather jacket thrown over a white shirt that left his happy trail exposed, and a prodigious belt holding up tight black pants that left little to the imagination, it was practically impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence. 
My eyes trail from his doe eyes to the short stubble growing on his chin, down to the pearl necklace clasped firmly around his slender neck along with several other lower hanging silver necklaces, one that held a black guitar pick with white lettering, ‘CC’. Corroded Coffin, I presume. There, a conversation starter. “You play for Corroded Coffin, right?”
“Yeah, for my whole life basically. Feels like yesterday we were playing for our middle school talent show. I play lead guitar, sing a few of our songs,” he smiles, crossing his arms across his chest. I know, trust me I know is what I’m desperate to say. I definitely was not ignorant of Eddie or his talents. 
“I’ve heard some of you guys’ music before. Good stuff. Great stuff,” I blink, evading eye contact as if Eddie was Medusa himself. Truthfully, that’s who he might as well be. The moment my eyes meet his, I’ll freeze, forgetting how to function, essentially turning into stone. 
From what the corner of my eye is able to make out, Eddie’s features only brighten at my compliment, yelling over the music, “Thanks, I didn’t take you for a metalhead.” 
“Oh, yeah. You know. Big fan,” I mentally slap my forehead, wanting needing nothing more than to be put out of my misery. God, could I be more awkward? I need a drink. ASAP. 
My body is now at the mercy of the crowd, the tempo of the music increasing, causing everyone to pick up their pace as well, shoving whoever wasn’t dancing out of the way. A visible look of frustration and discomfort contorts my face, the dead middle of the dance floor being my least favorite spot at parties. 
“Hey, do you wanna come meet the guys? It’s a little quieter in our section,” Eddie points over to the lounge area, recognizing my distress at the position I found myself in. I peer over my shoulder towards Avery who I notice has wandered off to greet some of her guests. Closing my eyes, I muster up the courage to accept his offer before turning to face him again. 
“Sure.”
He smiles contentedly, extending his hand once again, though this time, it’s not for me to shake. It’s to hold as he navigates us through the busy crowd. Though I hesitate at first only because I know my hands are sweaty, I lay my hand in his own. It’s a warm and firm grip, a safe and almost familiar feeling, like a good hug on a bad day. Sweaty bodies crash into ours as we cut through the mob, the sight of the lounge looking like a haven in this chaotic atmosphere. 
“Boys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N] meet Gareth our drummer, Jeff, electric guitarist, and Grant, he plays electric bass,” Eddie points them out, leading me up the stairs to the seating area, security guards lining the perimeter. 
Politely waving at the men who were either busy rolling blunts or sipping their drinks, I smile, mildly starstruck, “Hi. I was telling Eddie I’m a fan of you guys’ music.” 
Mumbles of gratitude are barely heard over the thumping music but nonetheless well received. Already nervous with Eddie’s presence alone, I was predominantly satisfied that his bandmates were too intoxicated to conduct a conversation themselves. 
Perching on the black, plush sectional couch, I cross my legs as Eddie plops himself down next to me, our knees slightly grazing each other. 
[Eddie’s POV]
The bare skin of my knee peeking out from my ripped jeans kisses the soft velvet material of the flared pants perfectly hugging her legs. The accidental touch somehow creates more tension in my body, if that were even possible. Clouds of smoke from the multiple joints going in rotation fill the air, blurring her features as the vapor crawls its way in our direction, causing me to slightly frown. 
I wave a hand, banishing the smoke from near her before speaking, “Sorry about that. My bandmates seem to forget their manners when we’re out.” A disapproving side eye is all I throw their way prior to diverting my gaze back to her as she lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” 
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips relieved that my uncouth friends weren’t a bother to her. Running my hands over my knees, I watch the lights from the oscillating ceiling lamps ghost over her, illuminating her delicate skin. 
She surveyed the party, eyes smiling from her cheeks once she spotted her friend dancing wildly near the bar where I previously sat. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks with each slow blink she made, pupils lit brighter than any light in the room. While watching Avery enjoy herself, her plump, glossed lips were caught in a wide, unfaltering smile that made my chest tight. She was truly beautiful. 
Catching myself staring at her, shamelessly indulging in her unfair beauty, I quickly lick my lips upon finding that they’ve run dry. “She talks about you a lot, you know. Avery,” I nod my head back in her direction, keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. 
“Yeah?” she questions, shifting her warm gaze back to me; a gaze so warm it makes me melt. I furrow my eyebrows, grinning, “Hell yeah! She’s like a proud mom showin’ off her kids’ art projects. Has pictures of you two in her office and everything.” 
[Y/N] glances down at her feet, a shy yet amused expression pulling at her visage. “Does that surprise you?” 
"No,” she responds, shaking her head hurriedly. “I mean, I guess it doesn’t. We’ve been friends for what feels like forever. We’re sisters, basically, attached at the hip.” I chuckle, recalling Avery saying something very similar to that in the text messages she sent earlier. 
She’s my sister, Munson. If you mess this up, that’ll be the end of you. 
Sitting so close to [Y/N] now, listening to her talk, breathing in her fruity perfume that purified the air every time she made the slightest movement, I’ll do everything in my power to not mess this up. I’ll be damned if I do. 
“Do you have someone like that?” she asks, carefully adjusting her body to properly face me. Following suit, I rest my elbow on the back of the couch, anchoring my leg in the space between us, clasping my fingers. “Uh,” I begin, poking my cheek with my tongue, beginning to laugh. 
“There’s this kid, met him in high school. Total butthead,” I chuckle, toying with my rings. 
“His name’s Dustin, we played a lot of D&D together. Since I’ve kinda had to move around with the band in recent years and he’s in his second year of college, we haven’t been able to hang out like we used to. But I always joke that he’s basically my kid. He actually called me a few nights ago asking me and the guys to come perform at his school.” 
Listening attentively, she raises her eyebrows, “Yeah? Are you gonna do it?” 
“I actually told him no, just to mess with him,” I joke, earning a laugh from her, the sound filling my ears and body with great fervor. Cute laugh. “But yeah, I’m definitely gonna do it, try to surprise him or somethin’.”
“That’s great,” she smiles. “Sounds like you two are close. It must be hard not being able to be with some of your friends and having to tour constantly, but I’m sure there are upsides.” 
“Oh yeah, definitely. Ever since I picked up a guitar for the first time, I knew that just playing music every night in front of thousands of people was what I wanted to do,” I reply happily, finally being able to talk about my passion and those who were important to me with someone I was interested in. 
Being in the limelight, it was too easy to get used to groupies and opportunists who weren’t truly interested in who I was as a person. All it ever felt like was what pleasure could I bring to them. What they could take advantage of. How they could manipulate me. [Y/N] was the breath of fresh air I’ve been craving in this polluted Hollywood lifestyle. 
“Now your dream's a reality,” she reassures. 
“That it is. Now tell me about you; I heard you’re a fashion designer,” I poke at her arm, beaming down at her. Her cheeks flush as she breaks eye contact, pulling at the fabric of her clothes. 
“I’d hardly call it that. I just make and sell clothes for whoever’s crazy enough to buy them,” she chuckles shyly. Stray hairs find asylum against the skin of her cheek, and I have to fight the urge to tuck them away. They almost distract me before she continues. 
“It took me forever just to make Avery and I’s outfits for tonight. Had it been someone else asking me to design it, I probably would have given up. Donatella Versace, Christian Dior- they are fashion designers. And I am not them.” A rather serious expression calls for my face to distort. 
“Hey, go easy. Comparing yourself to people has never worked out well for anyone. I haven’t known you for more than an hour but I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I mean, the proof is there,” I point at her. “If you’re serious about making the outfits, you did a damn good job.” 
“Yeah?” she smiles. 
“Definitely. I mean, I dig the all red. You look like a little Hellfire demon,” I bite my lip, surprising myself with how loud I was talking, as Grant and Jeff laugh knowingly. 
However, [Y/N] remained adorably clueless, “What’s Hellfire?” 
“Eh, another story for another day. But I’m serious. I might have to hire you to design some of our threads for our gigs coming up. Lord knows these fashionistas need your help,” I laugh, mumbling the last bit to her, causing the sweetest giggle to pass her lips. Cute laugh. 
“Cute laugh,” my brain thinks, and my lips speak all at once. The filter between thought and actual verbalization had come crashing down in that very moment, unapologetically. 
I curse myself mentally, afraid that she’d think I was being too forward, though I’d be in no position to blame her if she did. Much to my surprise, like earlier, her smile is unfaltering as she responds, “You think so?”
I return that same smile, nodding, eyes squinted in delight, “Cute everything.” 
[Y/N’s POV]
Just like that, I’m sure my face is as red, if not, even redder than a tomato. Eddie was not at all what I thought he’d be. 
With him being a well-known rockstar whose popularity was only increasing by the minute, I had no reservations he’d be an egotistical nightmare, expecting everything and everyone to fall at his feet. Surprisingly he’s done nothing but be agonizingly sweet and a perfect gentleman, adding to his attractiveness. 
Constantly dealing with arrogant people who were famous, or worse, thought they were famous, had led to some degree of emotional damage. Eddie was refreshing. 
“Thanks,” I hum, trapping a small part of my bottom lip between my teeth, once again avoiding eye contact at all costs. The little bit of courage I’d built up over the course of our conversation crumbled at his compliment, words ultimately escaping me though many thoughts were circulating in my mind haphazardly. 
I’m again at his mercy, silently begging him to stop being so alluring but also needing him to continue doing just that. 
Before I realize I’m sitting silently, deep in thought, Eddie chimes in, “You doin’ alright there, princess?” 
God. Why’d you have to say that? 
Princess. I could practically feel my features soften at the term of endearment, the name sounding so heavenly and warm falling from Eddie’s lips. I shamelessly yearn to hear him say it again. 
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m glad you like the red.” 
“Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice you chose to go as a devil tonight,” he smirks, eyes scanning over my body. “Didn’t take you as anything other than angelic.” I’m not sure if it’s a pickup line, but it does a well enough job of sparking the tiniest bit of bravery in me. “I’m full of surprises,” returning his smirk, I gesture to his clothes. 
“But I see you have on red and white.” 
“Oh, would you look at that,” he teases, lifting the sides of his jacket, examining his attire. The action lures my eyes to fixate on his toned stomach, the white shirt that appeared to be cut with a pair of scissors hid much of his chest but little of his lower torso. 
Eddie wasn’t ripped, as he played guitar for a living. He didn’t have a six-pack or a chiseled ‘v’ line, but his stomach was rather firm and tight, sprinkled with small tattoos. 
“Can’t be both an angel and a devil,” I resume. 
“No?” 
“Nope. So, which one are you?” I implore, crossing my arms. He leans in impossibly closer, his breath, an aroma of beer and spearmint, fans the shell of my ear, “You’ll just have to find out, won't you?” He returns his head to its original position, sending a devilish grin my way, precious dimples making the loveliest indentations on his face. 
With my lips fallen open, goosebumps erupt along my arms and neck at his suggestive comment. He seems to take notice of the way my body reacts to cheekiness; the charming smirk plastered on his face triggers the butterflies in my stomach. Was Eddie Munson flirting with me? Or is he this flirtatious with everyone he came in contact with? 
Deep in the unruly mob, I spot Avery shoving through drunk and high individuals, some being both, gravitating towards the bar presumably to get herself another shot of her favorite liquor. A light bulb goes off in my mind. 
“I’m gonna take a shot with the birthday girl. Do you want anything from the bar?” I ask, uncrossing my legs. 
“I should be the one buying you drinks, don't you think? Chivalry isn’t quite dead yet,” Eddie retorts, leaning over in his seat to reach the glass table before us. He grabs rolling papers along with a grinder for his weed, beginning to roll himself a spliff. 
Rising from the couch, I laugh, beginning to descend the stairs leading to the main level, “Like I said, full of surprises. Besides I get free drinks tonight, being the birthday girl’s best friend and all.” 
Elbows resting on his knees, he hides the tip of the joint between his lips before igniting the other end with a chrome vintage lighter, seemingly engraved with his initials. It’s an effortless yet immensely captivating action, his eyebrows pulled together as he takes a slow pull. It takes everything in me to defeat the temptation to throw myself at him. 
“Well, aren't you a lucky girl,” he exhales, a trail of smoke escaping his lips. 
“So, what do you say? Drink? No drink?” 
“Nah, I’m alright, sweetheart. Don’t be gone too long,” he jokes, dusting off the building-up ash on his joint. Out of courtesy, he passes it to Jeff who blindly accepts. 
“Why? You gonna miss me?” I smirk, heels landing on the final step before strolling to where the alcohol resides. “Somethin’ like that,” he mutters under his breath, though Gareth hears this, snickering at how smitten his bandmate was. 
“Let me get a double shot of tequila,” I hear Avery yell over the bassy dance music thumping through the speakers. The bartender gives her a stiff nod, placing a large shot glass in front of her. 
“Make that two shots,” I add, sitting down next to her as she turns to face me. Her eyes grow wide as she anticipates all the gossip I have to offer. She looks over to where Eddie is sat, though she quickly diverts her eyes back to me, to which I assume is due to him already looking in our direction. 
I open my mouth, ready to unload everything that’s been said between me and Eddie during the time that’s elapsed. She stops me momentarily, however, picking up the tequila-harboring glasses that the bartender left for our indulgence. 
Throwing my head back, the alcohol burns the back of my throat to which I make a face as I’m not that much of a drinker. Avery on the other hand, takes the shot like a pro, barely flinching as she swallows, “Alright, hit me.” 
“Where do I begin?” I sigh, smiling nervously, “I mean, I don’t know, he seems sweet. Definitely not an asshole like some guys I’ve met, that’s for sure. I just can’t tell if he’s flirting with me because he likes me or if he’s flirting because that’s how he makes conversation.” 
“Well, he doesn’t flirt with me. I can tell you that much,” she counters, raising a hand, signaling for another drink. 
“That’s different, you’re his publicist,” I frown, swinging my legs that dangled from the stool I was perched on. The people I found myself dating in the past few months were either draining or deceitful, some a distasteful mixture of both and then some. I couldn’t imagine that a famous rockstar with the world at his fingertips was interested in me. 
Letting out a lingering sigh, Avery slides another shot my way, some alcohol flying out the glass and crashing onto the wood. She places both of her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. 
I know she’s reading my mind, so easily being able to tell that insecurities were invading my brain, stopping me from going after something I wanted. “Listen, I’ve been in every setting imaginable with that guy, okay? And I’ve never seen him smile as much as he has while talking with you. He likes you. You like him. Now take that shot and let’s go dance.” 
Her sentiment draws my lips into a smile. She was truly my cheerleader whenever I needed the motivation. Furrowing my brows, I down my second shot, the warmth scattering through my chest. “Go dance? Shouldn’t I get back to Eddie?” I ask, silently thanking the bartender as I stand up. 
“You’ll reunite with your man soon, don’t worry. He’s been staring at you since you got over here. Let’s give him a show, yeah?” she smirks devilishly, wiping the dripping liquor from her pigmented lips. Catching her drift, I nod, grabbing her hand as I walk us to the dance floor. 
At the sight of Avery, people make room for us to migrate freely, as we find a comfortable, open spot to park ourselves and begin grooving to the music. Letting go of Avery’s hand, I move my head, slowly starting to feel the music. The warmth in my chest from the consecutive shots loosens my body, elevating my confidence. 
Though I tended to be a wallflower at parties, dancing with my best friend, liquid courage flowing through me, and oh-so-enticing Eddie Munson eyeing me, I’ve never felt more inclined to become possessed by the rhythm. 
The beat flows down into my shoulders as they begin to subconsciously move side to side, my hips following suit. I close my eyes, completely wallowing in the melody of the song blaring through the amplifiers. 
Give him a show. Avery’s words loiter in my head as I run my hands along my sides until they’re in the air, minds of their own. My body sways smoothly similar to a snake slithering its way to its prey. In this moment, Eddie Munson was my prey. 
I spin around, carefully, as I’m tipsy and in five-inch heels. Believe me, I would’ve chosen better shoes had I known that I’d be in this position, dancing my little heart out. Bodies collide with mine as everyone’s movements become wilder, the song transitioning to one of a higher pace. 
My hips compliment the music, rocking steadily before I feel someone else’s hip press against mine. I don’t even have to turn around before I know who it is; the satisfied look on Avery's face and the feeling of long, soft hair pressing against my skin serves as a good enough clue. 
“Miss me already?” my hips don’t stop moving, if anything, their movements deepen, grinding against him. 
“Hi angel,” he responds, the scent of the weed he just smoked staining his clothes. His hands rest just above my waist, testing the waters. Feeling the music too, he follows my rhythm swaying behind me. 
“No, I’m a devil, remember? See,” I point to my ensemble. “Hellfire demon,” I recall, giggling. 
He chuckles, amused, as his hands lower. I feel something firm prodding at the curve of my backside, the tightness of Eddie’s jeans not doing much to conceal his arousal. “You are right about one thing. You, little missy, are full of surprises.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Oh yeah,” he nods slowly, resting his head on my shoulder, craning his neck to look into my eyes, weakening my knees. Though the lighting in the club is borderline nonexistent, Eddie’s eyes were close enough to mine that I could see his pupils were blown, eyes dark with desire. 
“You got any surprises for me?” I turn around to face him, immediately missing the way his hips felt against mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hair blanket my hands, he bites his lip, grinning before speaking. “A few.” 
“Show me,” the smile on my face drops, the need to be alone with him becoming overwhelming. The alcohol running through my veins did nothing to steady my increasing heart rate. The heat that was once in my chest traveled down between my thighs, as the arousal that Eddie was experiencing was more than reciprocated. 
Instead of a verbal response, his hands trail up my arm to my hand as he grasps it, pulling me to where the bathrooms were. I look back at Avery to alert her that I’d be gone for a bit, though she’s already well aware, giving me a thumbs up and sending me a wink. 
The hallways leading to the bathroom are lit brighter than any other area in the club, causing me to squint my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. The floors are a shiny, coal-black tile with walls of the same color, covered with intricate designs and patterns. 
“Shit,” he pauses, hitting a fork in the road. 
“What?” 
“Which one should we go in?” he asks, gesturing between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, stumped. Rolling my eyes and letting out a small chuckle, I push open the door to the women’s bathroom, expecting that it’s cleaner than the men's bathroom, which was almost always the case in any public establishment. 
Eddie follows closely behind me, shoving the door shut subsequently. His sneakers squeak against the tile floor as he hurriedly grips my waist, hoisting me onto the edge of the sink. It’s wet to the touch from people drunkenly washing their hands not too long ago, but I’m too captivated in the scene moment care. Flinging my arms around Eddie’s neck, ready to crash my lips against his own, he pulls away faintly. 
“Wait. Are you sure you wanna do this? I know you had a bit to drink,” he mentions, resting his hands on either side of me. His forehead is almost pressed against mine as my thumb strokes at the nape of his neck, at which his eyes flutter closed. 
Beaming up at him, I sweep his hair out of his face and over his shoulder. He allows my hand to linger on his cheek as I speak, “I promise, I’m okay. I’m a little tipsy, but I swear I want this. I want you.” 
I have for a while now is what my mouth wants to add as some sort of cherry on top, but not even the tequila or the heat of the moment could pull that out of me. 
I didn’t want to admit to Eddie that the thought of him had been wandering in my mind since I’d randomly come across his music about a few years ago. He had to deal with overzealous, obsessive fans on a regular basis and I didn't want to give him the impression that I was no different from them. 
“Do you wanna do this?” I whisper, lightly scratching at his scalp under my fingertips. He breathes out before fully allowing his forehead to fall onto mine. 
He finally opens his eyes, the gates of his eyelids slowly unveiling the tender and sultry pool of chocolate brown. “Of course, I do, I just wanna make sure you really want this,” he sighs as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. 
Eyes lowering, I notice Eddie’s lips are chapped. Not the kind of chapped that was uninviting and distasteful. The kind of chapped that was endearing; the kind that made me want to do nothing more than to wet them with my own. 
“I do,” I mumble against his mouth hurriedly, before drawing his head towards mine, our lips colliding. Eddie doesn’t hesitate, attacking my puckered lips with his ravenous ones. His head moves wildly, repeatedly switching sides to devour my lips from all angles, almost making it hard to keep up with him. My fingers get tangled in his jungle of hair while his tongue begins to nudge at mine. 
As our hands begin to mindlessly explore each other’s chests and stomachs, quiet moans escape our throats. My heels dig further into the back of Eddie’s thighs as his warm hands settle onto my neck, lightly squeezing. 
A deep groan rumbles from his chest at my hand snaking down his body, fingers dangerously lingering by his belt buckle. Much to my dismay, his lips abandon mine that are still starved, however, my disappointment is short-lived, as he peppers kisses along my cheek, venturing down to my neck. “You wanna know somethin’?” he mutters onto my skin, hand nor lips leaving the pulsing area. 
“What?” I sigh, as he begins gently tugging at the skin with his teeth, wrapping his lips around it shortly after. “You were turning me on so much dancing out there like that,” he answers, voice low. 
He kisses me again, this time with slow and calculated movements. His lips are still eager as are mine, but his actions are more sensual this time. More passionate. I take the risk, lowering my fingers to his growing erection if it could even grow any more-- how big it was. Responding just the way I wanted him to, he moans into my mouth, slightly grinding his hips into my hand. “Yeah?” I whisper, breathlessly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, slowly nodding his head while running his hands up and down my legs, kindling small shocks through me. His touch was so simple but so intimate, paying attention to every curve and crevice that made up my body. The beautiful sounds of pleasure leaving his glossy lips egg me on, encouraging me to speed up the work my hand was giving him. “Turning me on so much now,” he finishes, dropping his head back in rapture. 
Like a moth to a flame, I take advantage of the opportunity to sprinkle both small, soft pecks and heated, open-mouth kisses along one of the many prominent veins decorating his neck. His body reacts instinctively, as he groans, beginning to trace along the waistband of my pants. As if his body was a magnet, my hips chase him at the ticklish sensation, begging for some sort of relief. 
Feeling his erection throbbing in his jeans, my hands yank at his belt unapprovingly. I give his neck a break from my lips only to look down at his waist, desperately trying to free him from the constraints. His nose bumps mine harshly when he chases my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth. 
Undoing the latch, he gets bored of walking the tightrope of my waistband, ultimately hooking his fingers over my pants, pulling them down to my ankles and over my heels. Goosebumps disrupt the smoothness of my skin as the crisp air filling the bathroom settles onto my bare legs. His belt falls with a soft clank, my discarded pants being a cushion for its soft landing. 
He smirks, amused at my black lace underwear, running a curious finger along the slit of my heat. It’s such a gentle, almost ghost-like touch that I would’ve missed had I not been intently watching him the way I was now. Unbuttoning and lowering the zipper to his pants, I grab him by one of the many loops along the waist of his pants, forcing his hips against mine.
Tightening my legs that clung together just below his torso, I grind my pelvis onto his erection, begging for some sort of friction. 
“Such a dirty fucking girl,” he smiles, hands blanketing my ass, guiding my hips that were shamelessly helping me relieve the tension I felt in my body. My moans are hard to suppress as his eyes don’t leave mine, mumbling quiet coaxes. 
“God, I can feel how wet you are,” he groans, “need to taste you, princess.” After I whisper a soft “please”, he stops my hips in place, ridding my needy core of my underwear, nearly tearing the flimsy fabric.
Freeing himself from the restraints of my legs, he kneels down, eyes meeting the place I needed him most. He wraps his strong arms around my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. I can feel his hair tickling my inner thighs as he bites his lips hungrily, adjusting himself between my legs. 
My fingers find his scalp and tug lightly on the roots of his tresses when he starts planting quick pecks around my heat, teasing me. “I love how wet you are for me. Can’t wait to taste that pretty fucking pussy,” he smiles, eyes never leaving my sex. He wets his lips one more time until his eyes rest on mine, licking a solid stripe along the slit of my entrance. 
Pulling harder at his hair at the sudden sensation, I let out a loud moan as my eyes screwed shut. His tongue easily finds my clit, gently teasing and sucking at the small bud. With the way he squeezes tighter on my thighs, securing me in place, I’m sure bruises are to be left behind. I don’t mind though as I knew it would serve as a visual reminder of the way he could make me feel with only his tongue. 
As his movements against my clit begin to quicken, my thighs begin shaking and my moans are nothing but intensified. In any other given situation, I’d be more cautious of bystanders who had to listen to my sounds of pleasure, but with the breathtaking feeling of Eddie’s wet tongue devouring all of my most sensitive spots, it was incredibly hard to think straight. 
He pushes my legs back against my chest wanting to get a better angle at me. He nearly dedicates his entire face to pleasuring my core, nose poking at my clit, while his lips and tongue flick at my pussy. The only part of his face he leaves for my eyes to feast upon are his brown-turned-black lust-filled pupils. I yearn to keep our eyes connected but it's damn near impossible with the feeling of a knot building up in my stomach. 
“That feel good princess?” I nod my head urgently, feeling the vibrations from his speaking tickling my clit. I want to speak so that he could hear just how good he was making me feel, but I figure my moans could suffice. He smirks once I whine at his lips leaving my wetness.
His fingers replace where his mouth once was, rubbing slow circles along my clit, watching my face morph back into one of complete ecstasy. He trails his digits down to my hole, slipping them in without warning. 
As my thighs squeeze around his head as he repeatedly hits my G-spot with curled fingers, pushing me further to the edge. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie are the only words my lips are able to utter. His rings are cold but gradually warming up as he fucks me deep with his fingers. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he snickers, upon feeling my walls clenching around his fingers. 
“Yes, yes. Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” I beg, sensing the amount of pleasure I'm able to take being at its peak. He watches me intently as he slows his fingers down, leisurely dragging them from out of me. Frustrated, I drop my head back against the mirror, letting out a heavy sigh. I let go of his hair as he rises from the tiled ground, smiling apologetically, yet, mischievously at me. 
“I know, baby, I know. But I promise,” he kneads my thighs, pressing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his lips. “I’m gonna take such good care of you,” he finishes, bringing his arousal-soaked fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. 
Momentarily, my eyes fixate on the bathroom door that was carelessly unlocked, not much of a barrier between this impromptu dalliance and the unsuspecting clubgoers just a few feet away. Had it not been for the thumping music blaring from the speakers, people within a mile radius would have been able to detect my needy whimpers. 
I’m not too Eddie-drunk for it to click in my head that a person of Eddie’s status being caught in a moment like this could instantly be plastered on the internet and every news blog. If it were just me and some random guy, anyone would just turn heel and carry on, but Eddie being who he was, it wasn’t immediately obvious whether to take the risk or not. “Someone could see us,” I point with a limp finger, body still weak from being on the verge of release. 
Content with just how easy it was to practically ruin me with only his mouth and fingers, he grins before uttering, “I know. I don’t care. If I have to be seen like this, I wanna be seen like this with you.” 
A rush of heat goes to my cheeks at his words that seem genuine. I was accustomed to guys saying whatever they believed I wanted to hear just to get something they wanted out of me. But there was something so different about Eddie. His eyes glimmered with a golden light of sincerity and awe that even the darkest parts of my cynical heart couldn’t help but be illuminated by. 
“I can stop if you really-” 
Hooking my arm around his neck, I pull his head down to press my puckered lips against his own that were still mid-sentence. He couldn’t be more alluring like this. Being the perfect gentleman, easing the worries floating in my head, and treating me so well, was just the icing on the cake that was his personality and looks. Right now, the one thing on my mind was to treat him just as good. 
My hands rush to push his pants down and over his erection, leaving merely his ankles to be clothed by the black denim. His print is so obvious, so taunting that it leads me to palm his hard-on through his deliciously tight boxers, moaning into our passionate kiss as I feel how big he is.
His cock twitches at my fingers grazing over the covered skin of his tip which also lures a hearty groan out of Eddie’s lips. A dull cloud passes Eddie’s pupils as the golden light previously lighting up his eye dims, and he becomes blinded by a dark hue of lust. 
His arms work to rid themselves of his form-fitting leather jacket, letting it to the floor thoughtlessly, his shirt follows soon after. Hiking up my small crop top, his hands waste no time in cupping my breasts, perfectly squeezing and massaging its flesh. An amused expression befalls my flushed face at the way his moans and grunts of pleasure fall so heavily from his lips as my hand steadily rubs long, slow strokes at his length. 
“Oh, you like teasing me, huh?”  
Letting out a small laugh, I nod, responding, “Yeah.” His mouth latching onto one of my nipples interrupts me, my breath hitching in my throat at the sudden contact. “Turns me on s-so much hearing you moan like that,” I manage to choke out while two of his fingers toy with my lonely nipple that couldn’t yet feel the wonders of his tongue. 
“Yeah?” he takes my hands, placing them over my head and against the mirror, using his free hand to tug his boxers down. He groans, cock no longer being restricted by his underwear, and it's only then I notice the precum threatening to spill from his tip. It requires an immense amount of self-control to not reach down and spread it over the smoothness of his tip and shaft, but I manage. 
“I want you so bad, princess. Fuck,” he mumbles, taking a hold of himself to tap against my clit. My entrance begins to throb as if it could sense Eddie was near, so close to stretching me in all the best ways. “You want my cock to fill up your slutty little pussy?” 
I shake my head a desperate yes, whimpering. Snaking my legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him right into me, he clicks his tongue, tilting his head disapprovingly. “I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to hear you say it. Tell me you want my cock to stretch you so good until you can’t think of anything except me and what my cock is doin’ to you,” he drawls slipping only his tip inside of me, but just as fast as it enters, is just how fast it’s gone again.
He does this repeatedly as he patiently waits for my mind and lips to conjure something up. 
With the way the snarky grin tugging on his lips was unwavering, I could tell he got a rise out of teasing me. There was a way his voice deepened when he spoke such untamed things. A way his usual pleasant expression turned to that of a stoic one. It was such a stark difference from what I’d seen of his normal personality. This side of Eddie was just another side I was more than excited to explore and indulge in.
“Please, Eddie. I want you s-so bad. Want your cock inside me. Please, I wanna cum all over that cock. Pl-”
My mouth is still rambling, begging Eddie for some degree of relief before the words soon melt into loud whines of satisfaction at Eddie finally slipping into me fully, in all his length and girth glory. Eddie’s mouth falls open as his breath catches in his throat, feeling his cock slide in with ease. He traps his tongue in between his teeth hoping to conceal his moans but that ultimately fails him as I clench around him, inviting him in. 
Groaning, he rests his forehead against mine, never letting his eyes depart from mine that were struggling to stay open. He sighs, shaking his head before breathing out, “God, you’re so fucking wet, I just slip right in. Such a good little whore for me.” 
I let out a moan, though I’m not sure whether it was from his words or the slow, yet hard thrusts he was giving me. Nonetheless, it felt too good to keep quiet. Eddie takes his time with his movements, unhurriedly dragging his length out of my warmth before slamming his pelvis back into mine. It was toe-curling.
Above me, Eddie was babbling a string of curse words, tattoo-adorned chest heaving.
Each drive made his muscles flex, evoking the pads of my fingers to trace his freckled skin. Beads of sweat began to build a film on our skin, but as we kept bumping and rubbing and caressing, it grew difficult to tell whether it was my sweat or his making my skin slick. 
He traps one of my nipples between his teeth, delicately nibbling and sucking on the sensitive bud. I cup his head firmly against my chest as my vision blurs, eyelids sailing down. He curled his hips up in a way that made it too easy for him to hit my G-spot with every stroke. 
Echoes of our moans and eager bodies recklessly colliding were the only sounds I could hear anymore. Up in the heaven of bliss, anything that wasn’t Eddie faded into the void of my subconscious, seizing to exist. There was nothing outside of this moment. 
Eddie grips the side of my cheek, thumb pressed on the soft skin under my eye, peppering kisses on the bone of my jaw. As he nears the lobe of my ear, lips nudging my earrings, he stutters yes yes yes yes, plunging achingly deeper. Whimpers and mewls spill uncontrollably at the feeling of him stretching me so wide and deep. 
“You take my cock so well, baby,” he sighs, words scattered by his restless motions. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” 
“Fuck, fuck, fu-, fuck yes, yes, Eddie yes,” words stumble gracelessly past my lips as I become a dumb moaning mess on Eddie’s cock. His toasty hand exposes my cheek to the chillness of the air, as his fingers take the liberty of rubbing my clit. He uses two, maybe three (who cares it felt good all the same), of his digits to massage my core soothingly; a pace that was a wild contrast to the pace his hips were going. 
The mixture of pleasures makes the knot in my stomach unbearable as I grew desperate for a release. 
Doing my best to roll my hips against his, hoping to meet his thrusts, he looks at me smirking, well aware of what I was trying to do. “’M gonna cum soon. Please let me cum,” I plead, eyebrows furrowing. Eddie dives in for a kiss, lips salty with perspiration. 
“Yeah? You wanna cum, princess? You wanna cum all over my dick?” he asks, using both hands to grip my sides, slamming into me. 
Yes, yes. Please let me cum, Eddie. 
His glossy cock, drenched in my arousal throbbed and twitched as it brushed perfectly against my walls faithfully. He looked down at where our bodies connected, loving the way we made a mess out of each other. My arms wrap around his neck to pull him unavailingly nearer. Gripping the flesh of my ass and thighs, he lifts me slightly off the sink, rocking my hips along the length of his shaft, humping into me simultaneously. 
My moans turn into short gasps as I feel my descent into a pool of euphoria nearing. “That feels so fucking good. That feels so fuckin’ good,” I whine, running my nails across his back. With Eddie's hands sprawling my body, I became fully consumed by him. There was nothing that I could touch except Eddie, smell except Eddie, see, hear, and taste except Eddie. 
“Yeah?” he asks, voice wobbling. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl. Gonna cum so deep inside you. You deserve it, princess,” he rambles, palming one of my breasts as he uses his other hand to keep me steady once I regain control of my hips. We’re absolutely feral as our bodies grind and slam against each other, pathetically needy. 
Feeling my orgasm approach, I tighten around him, sleek walls squeezing him impossibly tighter. Eddie’s thrusts grow increasingly impatient, if that were even possible, as his strokes become shorter and less calculated. His body stutters and contracts from what I presume is his nearing release. 
“That pussy’s so wet and so tight for me. Fuck. I want you to cum. I need you to cum. Cum for me, baby,” he moans, fighting off his orgasm so he could watch mine, undistracted by his own. He gets a few more strokes in before my thighs start shaking, piercing moans flying out of my mouth. 
Fuck, Eddie. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonn- I’m cumming. Don’t stop. Fuck. It’s all just word vomit at this point. The only form of punctuation was my moans. 
“No, I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Cumming all over my cock so fucking pretty like that,” he replies, head falling into the crook of my neck. I feel like I’m floating as I start getting light-headed, riding out my peak. My mind’s foggy. The knot in my stomach is fully pulled undone much to Eddie’s amusement, as he kisses my neck, humming. 
 His body becomes weak as he feels his climax approaching, “Oh, fuck. You feel so good. Fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby.” He grunts, white ropes of thick, warm cum painting my stomach as he pulls out. Covered in my arousal, his cock is shiny like a trophy, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘afterglow’. Exclaiming a plethora of swear words, Eddie’s face is drawn into an expression of pure bliss, a wide smile, making him look especially kissable. 
He’s breathing heavily as he slips himself back in, the euphoric sensation still lingering in his bones. Keen on devouring another one of his loads, my entrance contracts, as if it was panting hungrily, waiting to swallow him up again. He pulls air between clenched teeth as his sensitive shaft drags in and out, overstimulating the both of us. He’s greedy for another orgasm just as I am. 
“Oh, princess, you’re such a good girl for me. Fuck, I wanna cum again.” His thrusts speed up, rock-hard erection poking inside me at all the right spots. Mouth drying from all his rambling, he pants as his mind goes blank. 
“I wanna cum again, I wanna cum again, please. Please, please let me cum again,” he whines, greedy for another orgasm. It’s a complete 180 from how he was behaving just a few moments ago. Instead of grunting, he was whimpering. Instead of ramming into me, he was savoring me. Completely relishing at this moment. 
Please, please, please, fuck.
His eyes shut as he rambled, begging and whispering the naughtiest things, aching for his second release. All while his head was blocking an overhead lamp, casting a blond light around the perimeter of his mane, similar to that of a halo. I blinked up at him, pupils drinking him in. He looked so angelic like this. So perfect. 
Pulling him in by his pearl necklace, I smirk at him, loving the way he sounded begging me to allow him to cum. “So horny you wanna cum twice, huh? You need my pussy that bad?” 
“Yes, baby, I need your pussy. I need your pussy so bad. Let me cum again for you, please,” he asks, breath fanning my cheeks. His moans are soft and desperate, only quieting when he frowns at his cock slipping out. The warm and sticky composition of my arousal and cum proved to be better than any brand of lube. His mouth falls open, no sound emitting as he feels his climax approaching quicker than before. 
“Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum for me,” I coo, as he pulls himself out, rapidly jerking his cock, a loud wet sound following his every stroke. His entire body reacts, twitching and shaking, as this orgasm is seemingly stronger than the one before. Sweat runs from his forehead, around the wrinkles of his shut eyes, before falling into another droplet of sweat drowning his tattoos. 
“Fuccck,” he strains, milking every last drop of cum from his tip. He chokes out a laugh, content. “Shit,” he grunts, eyes tracing my body, stopping at my core that was dripping in his load. 
He bites his lower lip, lugging his softening cock across my clit. “You’re so pretty like this. All fucked out and covered in my cum,” he sighs, hand moving down to my hips. He lowers himself down, back on his knees, pushing my legs up so that the face of my thigh met my nipple. “You gonna let me clean you up, baby?” 
“Yes, please, Eddie,” I breathe, gripping his hair as his tongue goes to work on my clit. Slurping on the sensitive button, he hums while he tastes his cum mixed with my own, presumably enjoying the elixir. He spreads me open, revealing my leaking core, plunging his tongue into my hole, and curling it when he got deep enough. 
His fingers find my clit and play with it, drawing out the most pornographic moans from me. His eyes pierce mine, gawking at the way my body squirmed and reacted so easily to him. He switches gears, using his tongue to lap up my juices while his fingers stir up the remaining wetness in me. I grind my waist to meet with his fingers, which causes the tip of his bulbous nose to be added to the equation. 
I whimper at my second climax calling. My body stutters as I clench his fingers. Gathering up his abandoned cum on my stomach, I suck on my fingers fancying in his flavor. 
“You’re so good, baby. I love the way moan for me.” His hands caress my body, tugging at my skin. I feel the vibration of the music rattling through my chest though I’m too engulfed in Eddie’s touch to be disturbed by it. 
“That’s it, yes. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” he teases, noticing the way I tensed, and moans amplified. His fingers hit my G-spot perfectly into my orgasm as if they had maps telling them exactly where to go. My hips follow his tongue shamelessly as I ride the wave out, not wanting the feeling to end quite yet. My breasts quivering as I try to catch my breath, Eddie smiles bright and wide, lips glossy and swollen. 
“You did so good, princess, holy fuck,” he grins, planting his wet mouth on mine, letting me taste myself on him. I smile drowsily, mind empty yet so full of Eddie, “You too. I really liked that.” 
“Yeah?” he asks, picking up my pants and underwear, helping me get them back on, and breathing heavily. “I’m glad you did.” 
He smiles down at me, hair a wild mess thanks to my fingers constantly exploring it, sweat, and the natural high of sex, giving Eddie a look of pure satisfaction. I pull my clothes over me, afraid of the possibility of some drunk person stumbling in, though just a few seconds ago, that was the least of my worries. 
Looping the belt back into his pants as he threw them over his legs, Eddie slows his movements, an inner debate playing out in his head. “I meant what I said, you know.” 
My legs shake as I lower myself back onto the ground, knees wobbling like an infant learning how to walk for the first time. Redirecting the strands of my hair back into their rightful place, I glance over at him. “About?” 
“About wanting to be seen with you. After hanging out with you tonight, and you know, doing what we just did,” he laughs quickly, gesturing to the sink, before continuing, “I really like you, [Y/N].” 
I can’t help but smile at his shyness. He hides himself in his hair, distracting his hands by shrugging on his jacket, though I know with the way he was sweating, there was no chance he was cold. It baffled me how a person who exuded so much confidence in everything he did, got so timid around little old me. “I really like you too, Eddie,” I state, reaching to grab his hand. 
“Seriously?” 
“Yeah,” I giggle. 
A sigh of relief and a hand squeeze is what I get in return before he says, “Let me take you on a date, then. A real one. Please.” Is this even real life? It made me frown seeing how unsure of himself he was when he asked. 
“I’d love to,” I press my lips against his, kissing any lingering doubts away. He smiles into the kiss, taking a hold of my head between his two hands. It’s such a warm, comforting embrace. I could drift off to another land much more safe and happier, just like this. He places a peck on the tip of my nose as we separate. 
“Come on, let’s go dance,” I laugh, pulling him towards the door. “After you, m’lady,” he chuckles, opening the door for me. A perfect gentleman. 
We saunter down the hallway, the sound of the music unmuffling as we rejoin the celebration. I do my best to not obviously look like I just experienced two of my best orgasms ever. It was easy enough, though I knew had traces of Eddie still lingering on the skin of my tummy somewhere my eyes couldn’t see. 
I catch a glimpse of Avery at her favorite spot: the bar. Tapping Eddie’s shoulder, I let him know I’ll be back in a second, leaving him on the dancefloor as I make a path through the crowd toward my partner in crime. 
“Howdy,” I smile, widely. Avery clocks it immediately. 
“How was it?” she smirks, tapping her nails on the wood of the edge of her bar stool. Pretending to zip my lips with an imaginary zipper, she slaps my leg playfully, though she already knows keeping things from her was something I wasn’t capable of doing. She was my sister. Of course, I had to tell her. 
“I’ll tell you when we leave outta here,” I promise, calming her nosy nerves. “Oh, one thing that did come up though,” I begin. She perks up like a dog who just heard a noise. 
“What?” 
“Apparently, you have pictures of us all over your office,” I smirk. The color in her skin runs pale as she realizes she’s been caught. There’s been a running gag between us that we didn’t like each other as much as we let on. Though we both knew that wasn’t true and that we’d most likely end up staying in each other's lives until the end of time, it still was hilarious to tease each other. 
“Wanna tell me what that’s about?” 
She scans the crowd to find Eddie, scowling once she spots his conspicuous hair in the crowd. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.” 
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year
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first of all, happy new year! i love your work and i hope you have a wonderful year! ❤️✨
second of all... I've been having such a brain rot from this picture. i cannot function thinking about it... to make matters worse, I've been listening to some old playlists and i came across this song. and idk i feel like the pic and the song kinda...pop off together. so i was thinking if you could write something based on the pic or the song or both maybe?
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Hello lovely! It is great to hear from you. Very rare that anyone reaches out off of anon. I admire that!
Poor Aemond! He has been airbrushed to death here. He is beautiful as is. But unedited, I agree, this is a great photo of him.
I'm not really an Ed Sheeran fan, but I Googled the lyrics to see if any inspiration came to mind and picked out the following: "Yeah, I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up"
Hope you enjoy the little fic I have put together for the lyrics and picture!
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Give It Up
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective) - strangers to enemies to lust to potential lovers Warnings: Mild smut. Mild violence. Dub-con if you squint. 18+ Word count: 1150 Eternal thanks and handies to @emlikestolurk & @lady-phasma for casting their eyes over this and tossing my word salad into something palatable. Love you.
______________________________________________________________
For weeks now, things have been going missing around the Red Keep. 
First, an emerald brooch belonging to Alicent disappears. She cannot find it when she searches her jewellery box. Helaena is then devastated when she sees that her favourite necklace is gone, a Valyrian steel chain with a pendant in the shape of a spider, a ruby for its abdomen. She only took it off for a moment while she went to bathe, but when she came back to her bedchambers, it was no longer on the dresser where she left it.
The servants are questioned sharply and their quarters searched - however, nothing is found, and so the mystery remains unsolved. Aegon feels particularly aggravated upon waking one morning to find his beloved silver wine goblet has been taken from his bedside. 
Additional guards are placed around the Keep to man all points of exit and entry. Yet, things of value continue to vanish into thin air.
It is early evening when Aemond returns to his chambers, having spent the afternoon in the yard sparring with Ser Criston Cole. He freezes when he sees the cloaked figure. He knows immediately that this is the culprit of the recent thefts. They disappear through an opening in the wall upon noticing his return, a passage into his chambers that Aemond never even knew existed. 
He knows it would be wiser for him to raise the alarm with the guards and have them chase down this thief. But he also knows that every moment he wastes is another moment that they get further and further away, decreasing the chances of their capture. Without another thought, he throws on a cloak of his own to conceal his identity and gives chase.
The opening in his bedchamber wall leads to a winding stone staircase. He races down it, catching sight of the person as they reach the bottom and run out through a wooden door. Aemond hastens his pace, he pursues them down Aegon's High Hill via the twisting path of Shadowblack Lane.
The thief's pace is no match for Aemond's long strides and he quickly catches them up as they attempt to lose him down an alleyway at the bottom of the hill. 
Angrily, Aemond yanks them back by the shoulder, spinning them around and slamming them back into the wall.
"What did you take from me?!" he demands, his hand seizing their throat as he awaits their answer.
Aemond's eye goes wide as their hood falls back, revealing a young woman - a beautiful woman. He had not been expecting that. Previous experience with miscreants convinced him that he would be apprehending a man.
Her eyes are fiery with anger; she juts out her jaw in defiance as she looks up at him. "Let me go, Prince!"
She spits the final word with such venom, as though it is an insult. It shakes Aemond from his state of shock, and he tightens his hold on her throat with renewed annoyance.
"Show me what you took." His voice is cool and calm sounding; however, his brow is furrowed with irritation, his nostrils flaring.
"Is the spoiled Prince going to miss his little trinket?" she pouts mockingly, holding out a silver dragon head cloak pin on the upturned flat of her palm.
Aemond's eye flickers downwards and she uses the momentary distraction to push back against him, attempting to escape. He is much too quick for her though, crowding her back against the wall, unsheathing his dagger and pressing it to her throat.
"Is the wretched little street rat going to miss her life, when I take it from her?" he sneers at her.
She says nothing. She is not afraid to die. She stares him down, maintaining eye contact, a silent challenge. Do it, I dare you.
Aemond had fully been expecting her to scream or at least plead for her life. He is stunned once more as he looks upon her, his face mere inches from hers.
She does not miss it when his gaze drifts to her lips, hesitantly lowering his blade. She lunges forward, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip so hard she tastes blood, before making another run for it.
He drags her back by the hood of her cloak and surprises even himself when he pulls her against him, kissing her hard.
She is taken aback by the Prince's actions at first, but finds herself melting into his embrace, the metallic tang of his blood hot in her mouth as she kisses him back. She breaks the kiss, letting out a light gasp when she feels Aemond's hands wander beneath her cloak.
Aemond lets out a satisfied "mmm" as he gropes at the warmth of her body through her clothes. She is soft and pliant against him. When their lips are no longer touching, he dives in to mouth hungrily at her neck. Ordinarily, he would never behave in such a depraved manner, but this woman's open defiance of him has seemingly awoken something within him that he is unable to render dormant again.
She fights hard to keep her wits about her as her body betrays her with its wanton response to Aemond's attentions, her head becoming foggy with lust. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she uses his unguarded stance to push him back against the wall. Their lips meet once again, a sloppy mess of blood, teeth and tongues as her hand creeps its way up his solid thigh muscle.
Aemond's breath hitches as he feels her fingers wandering up his leg. He grunts as they slide home to grasp at his cock. He is hard. Of course he is; how could he not be when this temptress has been taunting him since he first laid eyes upon her?
She smirks as she feels his want for her through his breeches. Their lips cease their movements, but do not part as they pant against each other. Her hand takes a firm grasp of him through the material, moving it up and down.
Aemond's eye flutters closed as he voices a groan. Her touch builds a pressure at the base of his spine. His hips buck to meet her hand. And then she is gone.
His eye snaps open in time to catch a glimpse of her running full speed away from him down the alley. He does not chase after her. Shock keeps his feet planted firmly to the floor as he struggles to catch his breath and bring himself back to reality.
It's then that he realises he is no longer in possession of his dagger - he never got his cloak pin back from her, either.
"Shit!" he exclaims quietly, turning and heading back to the Red Keep.
When Aemond returns to his chambers that evening, he leaves the door to the passageway in the wall slightly ajar. Should she ever choose to come back, he'll be ready for her.
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a--ttano · 6 months
Text
a small selection of achilles/patroclus/zag fics i like
this one goes out to a friend who should definitely read these (this is a small selection and by that i mean non exhaustive. if u, dear reader, enjoy these fics, i recommend checking out the tag or the authors, they're all pretty amazing)
this list is the 10k+ to 5k words fic recs, and someday soon I'll do the 5k - 0 words list!!!
10k+
the chaotic time travel series by luddleston
e, chaos time travels zag to the trojan war one of my all time fav fics. i reread this so often
thin walls by luddleston
e, modern au, they're neighbours rip anyone that isn't zag that has to listen to these two go at it
zagreus, the other messenger god
e, zag relays messages between achilles and patroclus CLASSIC
satiated by viroma
e i LOVE fics where zag gets w achilles and patroclus after managing to reunite them, and this one does it spectacularly well
pages of your thoughts by luddelston
e, aphrodite charms the codex to show zag achilles' thoughts knowing what is going thru achilles' twisty little head is always perfection
mountainside by luddleston
e, au where they trained under chiron together aough we love a good childhood friends to 😳what are we...?
son of troy series by bladespark
e, archive warnings apply, trojan war au where zag was taken as a war prize it's always a treat to see trojan war era patrochilles, and even more of a treat to see trojan war era ZAG
tipping the scales by rises_the_moon
e, nereid achilles is being accidentally courted it's cute and full of feelings.......really love this achilles a LOT
icy rage, fiery need by bladespark
e, heat/rut achilles in heat what more can i say. read it.
I Can Beg or Bow (just give me some direction) by uniqueinalltheworld
e, bdsm and feelings love this patroclus :-) it's also really really fun and good to read their different attitudes towards kink
on the ropes by red_smear
e, bdsm and boxing au i love the boxing bits the best and the asterius and theseus bits always have me rollin around. in general the characters are incredibly good and fun.
spiked collar shenanigans by rises_the_moon
e, that thing where the spiked collar gives a person dog traits :-) :-)))))
a god among men series by bladespark
e, o3 ot3 ot3 this fic scratches so many itches
10k-5k
a myrmidon thanks by shadviio
e, patroclus thinks it would be a good idea to thank zag for reuniting achilles w him in a fun and interesting way absolute gold
were this not a dream by red_smear
e, varatha, the eternal spear, connects the dreams of two of its wielders through time. canon era zag and trojan war era achilles have some uhh interesting dreams another fav!!! on the reread list
look, don't touch by beromei
e, fun times in the elysian fields
the painful way by abbyleaf101
e, MESSAGE DELIVERY!!! it's a kiss
our beloved stranger by luddleston
e, achilles has not been hooking up w zag. patroclus has tho HUGE fan of the different ways a & p responded to their separation, and their different relationships w zag
enjoy
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roxie-roo · 1 year
Text
another hermit hollow fic!! Hope you guys like this one, and stay tuned for some Interesting two fics in the future <3 enjoy, @majickth
People didn't move in to Hermit's Hollow. That just wasn't the case. Then again, no one moved out either. It was just a small, insular community, full of people who it seemed had known each other for years.
So imagine the surprise when a new person came, greeting Pearl with long built up feelings.
Her brother, they'd learned. A recently fired journalist, looking for peace and quiet for once.
Word travels fast in the Hollow.
Thus did news of his investigation into the hooded figures that townspeople dared not acknowledge.
It passed through trees, between lumberjacks. The blond one lugged a tree over her shoulder as she walked back towards town, pausing only to see her companion frozen in place.
"Ren?" She called to him. "What's got into you?"
"By the pricking of my thumb.." Ren muttered to himself, "something wicked this way comes.."
Shakespeare. She'd recalled Ren to have been a fan. Still, she didn't quite understand the usage of it now.
The news was spread among customers in a small bookshop near town. The librarian refused to say anything beyond cryptic messages and poetic waxing, all of which received eye rolls and "typical Joe"s from the customers. Except for one. A blond approached the counter, trying to look as casual as possible as he fidgeted with his feather earrings.
"Did-.. did he really say he was investigating.. them?"
"That's what I heard." Joe Hills, the owner of the bookshop, nodded and closed the book on his desk. "He's a journalist, I like journalists. They remind me of myself in a way... never know when to quit. Yknow, I think I met a journalist a while back. Some two,,, three? Years ago?"
The blond tuned out Joe's rambling, hastily paying for his books and leaving very quickly. Far too quickly for Joe to not at least be a little suspicious. He eyed the customer behind him, and shrugged.
"Oh well."
______________________
Hermit's Hollow was full of uneasy souls that afternoon. Coincidentally all blonde, a thought that crossed Ren's mind as he watched his,,, friend? Friend sounded good. Watched his friend stare at a scar on his wrist. The symbol was an almost perfect rectangle, permanently etched into the skin. Martyn had told him once what had marked him. A hot iron. Ren shuddered at the thought of it.
"You know, staring at it isn't gonna make it go away, dude." Ren called, arms crossed as he watched him.
"I know." Martyn sighed. Tired and drained, and so, so frustrated. "I don't know what to do at this point. Do I talk to him- ? Tell him its a bad idea?"
"I guess you have to.. Would he listen?"
"That's what I'm afraid of..."
It was certainly a fear not unfounded. And he wasn't the only one who felt it.
"Baby, you pacing is gonna make me dizzy." A soft laugh echoed through the electronics store, the owner of said store leaned over the counter as he watched his partner traverse the small shop, occasionally stumbling and tripping over his feet.
"Sorry.." He stopped, instead hugging his thin frame with a worried huff. "You know why I'm so freaked out.."
"I do." Tango nodded as he stepped out from behind the counter, frowning at the sight of his anxious partner as he pulled him into his arms. "C'mere... you wanna go home?"
"No,, no I'm okay.." He shook his head, relaxing into Tango's arms slowly. "Sorry.."
"Don't be sorry, Jimmy.. I get it.. hey, maybe it's just a rumor. Yknow?"
"Yeah.. rumor.."
The bell above Decked Out rang and Tango untangled himself from around Jimmy's frame, quickly ducking behind the counter again. "Welcome to Decked Out, what can I help you with?"
Jimmy turned to look at the customer, and all the color drained from his face. Exactly as described. Wiry frame, red sweater, glasses, journal and pen.
"Hi, I was told I might be able to find one James Tek here?"
Tango narrowed his eyes at the stranger, while Jimmy cleared his throat and stepped towards him.
"I'm him. Please, just call me Jimmy, everyone does."
"Jimmy, perfect." The stranger grinned. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"I know what this is about.." Jimmy sighed. "I'll be back, Tangs..."
"Stay safe, baby.." Tango called out as they left.
Turns out, this was the rumored stranger, Grian. Pearl's brother. And Jimmy wasn't the only one being asked.
Martyn was also approached by this stranger, and asked the same question Jimmy dreaded now.
"What do you know about The Watchers?"
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Note
Could I request a really comforting fluffy yet Kinda angsty Fic with Asmo? Maybe he’s having a really bad day, and suddenly he’s even more hyper conscious of how he looks, but he has to go to RAD so he pulls it together as best he can, (MC notices somethings off and try’s to start up a conversation with a nice compliment but MC is the one person who Asmo truly wants to impress so they kind make it worse because now Asmo thinks he looks so bad they’re trying to pity compliment him-) and then at the end of the day some random small-fry demon makes a comment on his “messy hair”, and suddenly he’s just breaking down the instant he gets to his room because if he’s not beautiful who will love him?
And then MC finds him a couple minutes later and just completely soothes him and just bundles him up in fluffy blankets and starts talking about how “They love Asmo no matter his appearance” and just give him little kisses all throughout his face while talking about all the things they love about him
Yay for Asmo content! I hope I did this prompt justice, I do love Asmo a lot and I wish the main story would give him a bit more attention.
Content/warnings: body insecurity, verbal bullying, Asmo is sad. I also did this more pre-relationship than romance, but it’s there.
One of Those Days
------
Asmo was beautiful.
Asmo was beautiful. He knew he was. Thousands of people told him every day on Devilgram. Demons of all kinds approached him, desperate for his attention. If he went to the Fall, he could easily come home with someone - or several someones, if Lucifer was just a little less strict on the number of strangers in the house.
But some days he just couldn’t feel it.
His hair lacked luster no matter how much care he put into it. The bags under his eyes stuck out no matter how much concealer he slathered on his face. Asmo’s smile showed too many teeth but if he tried to close his lips, it looked thin and strained.
All Asmo wanted to do was stay home and hide. He couldn’t face his fans like this! What would people think if Asmo showed up looking anything other than perfect?
But Lucifer wouldn't let him.
At RAD, Asmo acted like everything was fine. He even paid more attention in class, trying to distract himself from the ugly thoughts building up in his mind, threatening to crack his already thin mask.
"Asmo, are you feeling okay?" you asked quietly at lunch, and oh, how it made him want to cry that you saw something wrong with him. Did he look pale and ill, or red-faced? Was his smile too fake?
"You're so cute, MC!" he cooed, trying to distract you with praise, with his arms around your shoulders, and make you think of anything that wasn't whatever problem you saw in him. He could see in your eyes it didn't work, but you let him cuddle up to you anyway, looped an arm around his waist.
"You're too sweet, Asmo," you returned and Asmo squeezed you tighter. Mammon protested from the other side of the cafeteria, but Asmo just hid his face in your shoulder to hide his racing thoughts.
You're too sweet. Was he too much? No, no, that was a compliment from you, you'd meant it as something nice but - why now? You were the one being sweet, he was just being clingy like normal. Or was it pity? Like in the human movies? You have a wonderful personality when what they really meant was-
The buzzer finally forced him to pull away, leaving him cold and his smile more frail than ever.
Asmo's hair was getting more and more disheveled as he tried to fix it, fiddling with it in class. You're too sweet you'd said, but Asmo wasn't the sweet one. Maybe Beel, who was so kind and sincere to you. Or Belphie, who was always seeking out your attention with half-lidded eyes and pouty lips. Or even Mammon, with his bashfulness and sputtering denials of his obvious feelings.
But Asmo?
Asmo was a gossip. Asmo was mean, snapping at his brothers and targeting their insecurities, cutting down any demon that threatened his popularity, he'd even been dismissive to you before you'd shown him how incredible you really were.
Asmo wasn't sweet, he was clingy and desperate for your attention and the only good thing about him, the only good anyone had ever seen in him, was his looks. And today, even that was fading.
Curses and Hexes passed him by in a blur. He hadn't written a single word in his notes. There was only one more class that day - assuming Asmo could avoid getting detention for his spiraling distraction. Asmo just had to make it through Devildom Law, a class no one paid attention to, and then he could retreat to his room.
Asmo stopped outside the classroom to fix up his hair in the door window once more, growling in frustration when it just didn’t sit right. The window was a dim reflection, he knew that, but he still hated the way it seemed to highlight his dark circles so clearly, his skin sallow and too pale.
The professor droned on and did not call on Asmo. His demeanour, frustrated and annoyed, was clear to all those nearby - and while he may be a student, he was also an Avatar. The professor was a noble himself, but in terms of raw power, Asmo was the one to fear.
Asmo nearly collapsed into his seat when the bell rang, relief snapping the tension in his muscles. He gathered his things, notebook pages empty, and moved to leave. It was finally time to go home, where he could hide in his room. Perhaps a mask later? A long bath? Something that would allow Asmo to relax in privacy. He'd feel better in the morning. He would just kill time until he could sleep without ruining his sched-
Whispers from the hallway.
"Have you seen him today?"
"His hair... what happened?"
"Maybe he's finally lost it."
"Finally, all those thirst traps were getting annoying..."
And Asmo-
Asmo knew demons were vicious, petty, jealous creatures. He had developed a pretty thick skin in the Devildom, or so he thought.
But today, he just couldn't.
He barely stopped himself from sprinting out of the classroom. Asmo wasn’t used to avoiding attention, hadn’t practiced it - he slipped out the back of the classroom, making his way through an office and out into a the hall, far from where he heard those voices. As soon as he made it out of the building his wings unfurled and he took off, the empty skies the only place he could be sure he wouldn’t run into anyone.
The minutes-long flight to the House of Lamentation felt like it took hours. Asmo considered just trying to fly through a window, shorten the trip to his room - but he’d probably be the first one home anyway, and Lucifer locks them all before school.
Asmo was right. He was the first one back, or at least if Levi was home he was already busy with his games. But Asmo couldn’t take any chances, rushed straight to his room. He only got to the hallway before his eyes started to sting.
Asmo slammed the door behind him, finally safe to let out the sob choking him. Without the weight, without the risk, of eyes on him he finally broke down, tears streaming down his face and hiccuping breaths shaking his body.
The relief lasted until he turned around.
Mirrors. Mirrors on his wall, his wardrobe, his fucking ceiling. Asmo had hung them all up himself, and now he was desperate to tear them down.
Instead he dove for his bed, the plush softness embracing him. He pulled the covers up and dove under, hiding away in the darkness, where no one could see him, where he couldn’t see him.
He couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes before a knock at the door sounded. Asmo sobbed and curled up under the covers.
The door opened and shut. Asmo whined.
“Asmo? It’s me.” He heard the voice of the last person he wanted to see him this way. Asmo grabbed the edges of his duvet, pulling it close so you wouldn’t be able to reveal him. Maybe you’d just go away.
“You can stay there if you need to, Asmo,” you assured him. He felt you sit on the side of the bed, one hand lightly resting against his covered back. “I just wanted to check up on you.”
Asmo sniffled and shook his head. He hoped you could see the movement despite the covers.
“I’ll leave if you need me to Asmo, but I’m worried about you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles. “I want to help if I can.”
Asmo choked out a word, but knew you wouldn’t be able to understand it with his sobs.
“Asmo, what did you say?” you prompted gently, hesitantly. Treating Asmo as though he was made of glass.
Asmo threw the covers off and tackled you in a hug.
It ended with a tumble off the bed, one where Asmo just barely managed to twist so he cushioned your landing.
Now you were on top of him, face bewildered before you took in his expression, his blotchy cheeks and watery eyes and smeared makeup. Confusion quickly shifted to concern.
“Asmo, what-”
“Why?” he wailed, clearer this time. You opened and closed your mouth, not understanding, and that just made him sob again.
“Why... Why do I want to help you?” you asked, and your face was cute while you tried to figure him out. You were cute and you were on top of him and everything in him wanted to make some stupid flirty comment, to pull you closer but he couldn’t, not looking like this.
Instead he nodded, sniffling, while you shifted so your weight wasn’t totally on his chest. Asmo was a demon, even if he wasn’t as outwardly muscled as his brothers, he could take the weight of one human, but it was such a small gesture of care it nearly set him off wailing again.
“Because I... you’re important to me, Asmo,” you told him awkwardly. You helped him off the floor, sitting on the soft covers of his bed. “I can see you’re hurting and I want to help.”
“I’m not fun to be around like this,” Asmo protested. His voice was still watery, but at least he could make himself clear. “You should go!”
You should go before Asmo made even more of a fool of himself. You should go before the image of him with his mascara running and his nose red and his hair a mess was all you thought of when you looked at him. You should go before Asmo ruined any chance he had with you. More than he already had, anyway.
“Asmo...”
You pulled him closer and he took the chance to hook his chin over your shoulder, hiding his face. He’d love to bury himself in your school uniform, but that would mean getting snot on you.
You felt nice and warm against him. Asmo couldn’t help but settle against you, letting himself half-collapse onto your shoulder. Your arms cradled him. One hand rubbed soothing circles on his back.
“Asmo, I’m not only going to be around when you’re... when you’re fun.” You squeezed him tighter. Asmo clung onto you. “You’re my friend. I can’t just leave you when you’re upset.”
“But I- I look stupid,” Asmo sobbed. You definitely had snot on your uniform now, despite his best efforts. “I’ve looked awful all day and now everything’s ruined and my stupid makeup is supposed to be hellfire proof but-”
“Asmo!” you interrupted him quickly and Asmo took big, gulping breaths that you try to soothe him through. Eventually you pulled back a little - just a little - so he could look at you.
“Asmo, you’ve looked great all day. Anyone who says otherwise is just being an asshole.” You tugged him closer until the two of you were practically sitting on top of each other. “We can clean the makeup off, you can have a bath, and then you’ll be back to your normal, beautiful self. But even then, that’s not the point.”
It did calm Asmo down a bit, the reminder that the makeup could come off, the redness of his skin could be soothed, the day could be washed away. He let himself relax a little, waiting for your next words.
“I’m not going to leave you alone just because your makeup runs, Asmo. You’re more important to me than that.”
“But-” Your words sounded sincere, but that didn’t make sense. Asmo was lust. His whole being was about beauty, about tempting others to his sin. Even in the Celestial Realm, his value wasn’t being a protector like Beel or a strategist like Levi. He was the Jewel of the Heavens, a pretty face standing beside his more useful brothers.
Asmo was beautiful.
That was all he was.
“Why, then?” Asmo asked you, fresh tears spilling from his eyes.
Why stay with me, if not for my beauty?
“Asmo.” You paused, trying to find the words. Asmo watched your expression, hunted for any sign of insincerity, any faked affection. He only found sadness and frustration - frustration at yourself, for not knowing the perfect words. “Asmo, you’re- you bond with Levi over fashion. You don’t just use makeup, you know all about it. I’ve seen you help Mammon get ready for shoots. You’re always trying to be a good older brother to the twins. You’re the only one of your brothers Satan can stand to be around most of the time.”
You rested your forehead against Asmo’s, letting him feel the warmth of your cheeks.
“You always go out of your way to talk about how nice I look. How sweet I am, even when I’m only passing you the salt at dinner. You’re kind to me, Asmo. You’re always cheering me up. You’re always supporting me and I want to support you, too.”
Asmo still wanted to protest. Of course he did all of those things to you - you were beautiful, your soul shone with a light he’d never seen from a human, an angel, or a demon. The two of you were nothing alike. You were incredible, and he was just...
Wait.
Asmo blushed.
He’d made you feel better? Just with all his comments and his flirting and being himself? You liked that? Not because he was pretty or anything, just the talking parts?
You wheeled back as Asmo sat up straight, narrowly avoiding his chin colliding with your forehead. His smile lit up his face. It felt a little tight, his cheeks ached and he could feel the dried tears on them, but he kept it bright.
“You’re absolutely right, hon!” Asmo puffed himself up, trying to breathe deep to loosen what tightness remained in his chest. “I really am amazing, aren’t I?”
You gave him a confused smile. Asmo threw his arms around you again - this time, landing safely on the bed.
“You’re just the best! Aside from me, of course!”
Asmo’s face was buried into the sheets, but he could still hear - and feel - your laughter. 
Eventually though, you quieted down, and Asmo simply held you in the silence.
Asmo could’ve stayed there forever, but he knew Lucifer would start calling you down for dinner soon. And while he could stand to be a little vulnerable around you, he needed to maintain his reputation as the good-looking brother.
“Okay,” Asmo said, sitting up. Your hair was now ruffled and your smile was much more relaxed. Asmo felt any remaining tension leak out of him at the sight. “I really should have a bath before dinner.”
“I’ll see you then.” You squeezed Asmo’s hands. Asmo pulled you close.
“You’re welcome to join me, you know!”
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bekkachaos · 10 months
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fuck it friday 🤘
oops it's absolutely not Friday anymore
tagged by so many beautiful people @prince-buck-diaz @monsterrae1 @heartbeatdiaz @spotsandsocks @alyxmastershipper @wildlife4life @elvensorceress @buddierights 🩷🩷
Not tagging anyone else because it's super late, but if anyone still wants to please tag me 😁
So I heard this song and got an idea for my angstfest fic in which Buck and Eddie both ended up down the worst possible paths in their lives, Eddie is living in LA, suspended from his job, his parents have taken Christopher back to Texas after a battle in the courts, and he's lost, standing on a bridge in the middle of the night looking out over the quiet, and he meets Buck, dirty and disheveled, more than likely living on the streets, and he's high, Eddie can see it in his eyes. It starts them down a winding path together that just might turn them around.
Have a little snippy snip below:
Eddie's fingers on the metal rail turned white. His teeth ground together so hard he should have been worried one or more might chip, but he wasn't.
There was only one thing on his mind, and that was how much he had failed. He failed himself, and Christopher. Eddie refused to believe that he was better off with his parents, and the fact that he hadn't been able to prove that to them, or the court, well, it just solidified his failure and it felt like cement sinking down through him.
Everything seemed to spiral after that. The underground fighting ring, getting suspended from his job at the fire department. And his parents wouldn't even let him speak to Christopher. Not yet, they kept saying. Let him get settled, we don't want to make this any harder. Call him when you've got your life back on track. You need to show him some stability.
He closed his eyes and sucked the biting air into his lungs, filling him with cold, fanning the fiery anger that consumed him and escaping back through his split lips in a heavy cloud.
"You know most people think your breath doesn't do that until below freezing."
Eddie flinched, turning back to see a tall man approaching slowly from behind, hands shoved into his front pockets and eyeing him with a tilt of his head.
"Excuse me?" was all he managed in reply.
"When you can see your breath in the air, doesn't have to be freezing, hell, only needs to get to about 45," he said, making an o with his lips until his condensated breath came out in a long thin line.
Eddie eyed him warily. He hadn't seen him when he arrived at the bridge, there's not much around save for a few derelict buildings and a foot path leading towards the overpass. On top of that, he could see the way his pupils were dilated, he was high on something, or maybe coming down.
"I'd say sorry, that I didn't mean to interrupt, but I guess I did," he said, keeping his distance from Eddie but not taking his eyes or his curious gaze from him.
Eddie just grunted back at him, not sure that he should turn his back on him. He could probably take him in a fight, as long as he doesn't have a knife, but he doesn't really want things to come to that. His knuckles were still cut and bruised from his fight earlier and his brow throbbed from the left hook he'd been too slow to dodge.
"Want to tell me what you're doing out here?" the stranger asked, and this time Eddie really didn't care what happened next, so he turned his attention back to the black over the bridge.
"Could ask you the same thing. You always sneak up on people? Start conversations about the air, how cold it is?" he said roughly.
"Only when they're holding as tightly to the bridge rail as you are."
Eddie let his teeth grind, letting his grip ease as some of the feeling came back to his knuckles, the ache of the pain now somewhat dulled.
"There," he said, turning back and folding his arms over his chest defensively. "Feel free to walk away now."
The man's lip turned up in a smile, and for the first time since he'd appeared, Eddie felt himself lower his guard.
It wasn't menacing or snide. It was somehow a thing of warmth in the coldness of the dark.
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enemywithinzine · 4 months
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Spread the HEARTSTEEL Love!
While we're waiting for our ENEMY WITHIN contributor sign-ups to roll in, we thought we'd share some content 🎤
Check out Mod Crown's incredible HEARTSTEEL fic on Ao3, and enjoy a little preview right here 👀
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Warnings: none Rating: Teen Relationships: Shieda Kayn & Rhaast, Shieda Kayn & Zed, Shied Kayn & HEARTSTEEL
SUMMARY:
As HEARTSTEEL grows in popularity, Kayn begins to notice discrepancies in his life. He's been losing time more and more frequently, especially during gigs. Missing pieces of his life is scary enough, but when a video of him cussing out his manager goes viral, things start to spiral out of control.
There is one thing Kayn is sure of, though: Rhaast isn't real. CHAPTER ONE PREVIEW:
He pulled the thin black fabric of the mask over the bridge of his nose, exhaling a short breath at his reflection. This just seemed excessive. The baseball cap covered the pink highlights of his hair in shadow, and the oversized sunglasses hid the sharp emerald of his eyes. There were no discernable features of his face for fans to catch. The baggy hoodie and cargo pants concealed the rest of his figure. Whatever.
Kayn slung his relatively empty black backpack over his right shoulder, giving himself one last look in the mirror before heading out the door of the HEARTSTEEL house and locking it behind him. He had gotten back before the rest of his bandmates, and he was going to use that to his advantage. He didn't want to see them right now. He glanced at his phone, saw the overwhelming amount of notifications that continued to roll in, and shut it off completely. He didn’t need that shit right now. He slid the phone into the pocket of his pants as he walked, ducking into an alley to take his usual shortcut. It would have been a lot faster if Yone let him get that motorcycle, but Kayn was no stranger to walking. It was probably better for him to keep a low profile, especially with the current situation.
Frankly, he was a bit afraid of the paparazzi. It was much easier to say he hated them when his bandmates asked, but it was more akin to fear. He was on edge during normal interactions, but after entering the public sphere as an idol? He had to keep such a tight grip on every mannerism, every speech pattern; sometimes he counted his breaths between answers, wondering if he talked too fast. Every smile was calculated. He had to be so meticulous over how he presented himself in each and every interview or his management would have his head.
Especially when sometimes… he zoned out. For an interview here and there. For the hours leading into the pre-show. Once or twice during the heights of a set. More times after a concert than he was willing to admit.
His body must have worked on auto-pilot during those periods of time. Muscle memory and habit moving him along, done over and over again so the memory isn't important or saved whatsoever.
It scared him. The loss of control irked him in a way he couldn't describe fully. It was the same reason he had sworn off drinking after a terrifying crossfade during his teens; he hated losing time, especially when his body seemed to move on without him. After the first concert blackout, he asked his bandmates what he had done during those missing pieces of time:
Aphelios contemplated his answer before he shrugged, signing a quick, 'More brash?’
Ezreal's gaze flicked from Aphelios to Kayn, his eyes as sharp as ever despite his bored demeanor. “That's a good way to put it,” he added. “You also snapped at me for something stupid.”
“I what?”
“Acted like Ez pissed in your cereal,” Sett elaborated, motioning with his hand despite his crossed arms. Yone hummed in agreement, even if he didn't speak.
K'Sante nodded his assent, offering a short, “Never seen you like that.”
Kayn never received a straight answer from the band, nor did the memory ever magically appear in his mind. And he certainly wasn't going to ask his bandmates again; showing that kind of weakness was unacceptable. Being vulnerable like that was a mistake, and Kayn wouldn't do it again.
His shoddy memory had always been something he struggled with, but it had gotten much worse—and much more noticeable, for that matter. He blamed the adrenaline that came with his current lifestyle and his brain's inability to adapt and work correctly. He hated it. At least it seemed like an infrequent occurrence, even if Kayn wished it was a never occurrence.
Unfortunately, one of those zone outs was what caused his current dilemma. He had apparently… lost his cool with one of his managers. This manager in particular had been giving Kayn hell for “creative differences,” and Kayn had been keeping his frustration to himself for a few weeks. But after a gig, he snapped at the manager and a fan caught it on camera; an upload to BlueBird spread through reposts and reuploads to different platforms until Kayn’s outburst was headlining multiple news sites.
Kayn couldn’t quite describe the feeling of dread watching the video for the first time. He didn’t remember any of it. But it was him in the video. It was his hands shoving his manager. It was his voice berating his manager. It was Kayn.
keep reading on Ao3!
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