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#are they near the tardis? yes.
elencr · 2 years
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¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ starter call | accepting ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸
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* .  ♡                                                     " i don’t think ... ” ellie yelled out over the blaring alarm that was suddenly screeching through the hall. “ i don’t think that was the right button. ” hand tugged on @undecimusor​‘s jacket. her nerves were suddenly starting to get the best of her. when ellie loses herself to them, she starts to panic and panicking means yelling. the room suddenly went PITCH black, before they turned back on, but it was now RED. “ doctor - i don’t want to PRESSURE you ... ” the sound of guards banging on the other side of the door was LOUD, hand tugged against his sleeve once more.
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edith-is-a-cat · 5 months
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I vote my school should invest money into the bathrooms we have enough for sports
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bobdylansgf · 2 years
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everything would be much easier if i thought about i don't know maybe checking my messages every once in a while
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textmel8r · 1 month
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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.
୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami
୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex
୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!
Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?
And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.
But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”
The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?
“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.
“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.
Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.
You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.
Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.
Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”
He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.
His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.
"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."
He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.
The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"
Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?
“Sure.”
“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”
Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”
You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.
“I take it you come here often?”
The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”
The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."
"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."
He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.
"Nanami, stop."
"Stop what?"
"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."
It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.
Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.
You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.
“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.
Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”
“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.
Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”
The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.
“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”
“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be. 
You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.
The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”
“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?” 
“Yeah, I guess it did.”
“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”
“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”
You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”
He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.
“Why go through the trouble?”
Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”
A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”
Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”
“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”
Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. You look fun-deprived.”
Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”
“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”
He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”
Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”
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tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82
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fangisms · 9 months
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If you take requests can you write a fic about draco wanting the reader's attention all day but someone or something something always getting in the way ? Bonus if he gets a lil moody about it too
(Feel free to ignore if a bother tho ♡) :)
bellyaching
A/N: you GUYS i cranked this out in an afternoon, do u understand im OBSESSED with moody draco
Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader
Summary: Draco is desperate for your attention, and desperate times call for desperate Slytherins. 1.1k words
Warnings: fluff, very very minor boy angst, slytherin behavior, moody/dramatic draco, established relationship
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“Babe.”
It’s hushed, Draco doesn’t want to catch Flitwick’s attention while trying to grab yours. But it’s not easy when you’re seated in the row in front of him, and he’s desperately leaning over his workspace to reach you.
“Baby,” he mumbles, and you glance over your shoulder with a start. Then, smiling, you wave, and he’s soothed for just a moment. You turn back around and he’s practically pouting. He taps your shoulder with the paper rose he had so painstakingly folded for you. He’s got the paper cuts to prove it.
Draco taps your shoulder with the stem. You turn your head and hold one finger to your lips. You shushed him. You shushed him. He settles back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, wilted paper rose forgotten on his desk.
After class, you’re walking beside him, arm happily tucked within his as he escorts you to your Advanced Mythology lesson. Though he’s feeling a little deflated, having you near makes him feel better. And realizing that you’ve got a few minutes to spare before next class, he pulls you to the side of the hall, abandoning his friends to walk ahead.
Tucked beneath one of the awnings, he holds your books beneath his arm and pulls you closer.
“Draco!” you yelp, resisting his onslaught of hurried kisses, “We have class, remember? It’s that thing we are required to attend five days a week? We learn a lot of subjects? Sometimes they give us lunch hour—?”
“We’ll have plenty of time to get to class,” he huffs, pecking your bottom lip and the apple of your cheek.
“Draco, you’ve been late to nearly all of your classes because of—”
“Not because of you. I am solely responsible for my tardiness—ow!” You pinch his side and giggle when he slumps into your shoulder—“‘S not fair you’re so kissable.”
You roll your eyes and press your lips to the side of his sad face, “fine. You can have one kiss. Make it quick.”
At that, Draco perks up. You playfully pucker your lips, and as he leans in—You’ve got to be kidding.
“There you are! Come on, we’ve only got five minutes to get to class, and I’d rather not be forced to polish anymore silver!” Pansy grabs you by the crook of your elbow, dragging you out into hall. You wave at Draco and quickly catch up with Pansy.
For Merlin’s sake, is he not allowed one moment alone with his beloved.
The rest of the day goes just as smooth. As in not smooth at all. As in Draco’s day has been a complete shit show, and you’ve been otherwise occupied for just about every second of it.
First, he face plants during a scrimmage. Then, you tell him you’re using the afternoon to study with the girls in the library. You said he’s welcome to join but he knows that means he would be the only male attending and, therefore, it would be excruciatingly awkward.
Suffice to say, he’s spent the last few hours sulking and moaning to himself. Enzo thinks it’s hilarious.
When you finally sit next to him at dinner, he’s still stewing in his anger. Yes, it’s gotten to anger.
“Good evening, dear Draco!” you coo. And he’s clearly not having it, picking away at his food and only acknowledging you with a curt huff. You look to Theodore in shock, eyes wide when he shrugs.
“He’s been like this all day,” Mattheo says, “Think you could be a dear and fix him for us?”
You look over at Draco, who’s taken to scowling at the two boys. So you brush his hair out of his face and flatten his hood against his back.
“What’s wrong? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day?” you say, tilting your head. He huffs.
“I think you mean you’ve been ignoring me all day.”
“Draco!” you say, surprised by his sudden volume and honestly amused by his apparent lack of awareness. “What’s with the attitude?” He doesn’t respond, so you cross your arms over your chest. At this point, you’ve got the entire Great Hall’s attention. And winner for most dramatic couple goes to… “Come on, Draco, don’t just sit there and sulk, talk to me!”
“Oh, now you want to talk? Are you sure? Maybe you should go and study with your friends or read a book or do anything other than ask me how my day has been,” he whines. Enzo can’t help but snicker.
Your jaw drops, and you mumble, "Lower your voice, drama queen, I’m—"
“No, I’ve been trying to spend time with you all day, and you just shrug me off and find something better to do! What if I wanted to walk you to class and study with you?”
“We can still study together this week.”
“That’s not the point, babe. I wanted to spend time with you today,” he says, defeated and back to prodding at his meal tirelessly.
You sigh.
“I’m sorry, Draco. I had no idea”—you list his hand from the edge of the table and fit your fingers gently between his own—“I didn’t mean to starve you of attention. How careless of me.”
Draco presses his thumb against your hand, and he just barely turns his head to look at you.
“You’re teasing me,” he huffs. You look down at your hands and smile.
“A little,” you say, “But I am sorry. I should have listened to you. And asked you about your day. How was it by the way?”
“Ate complete shit out on the pitch. Found out I’m too needy for my girlfriend. Other than that, just peachy.”
“Draco,” you whine, pouting and cupping his face. “I’m sorry. And you’re not too needy for me, I’m just a bit daft.”
He shrugs, trying not to smile so wide and failing. Just happy to have you near him again.
“Oh, I have something for you”—he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the floppy rose—“Made it in charms.”
You hold its fragile, wrinkled frame in your cupped hands, frowning at it then at him.
“You made this for me?”
“Yeah. And it says ‘you look pretty’ on the inside, but I think if you try to unfold it, it’ll actually disintegrate,” he says.
You lean in swiftly for a kiss, but pause on the way.
“You two? Look away,” you grumble at Theo and Mattheo, snapping a spell against both of their cheeks. They wince and apologize, and Draco snickers.
He kisses you, tugging at your open robe and smiling against your lips when you reach for his other hand.
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hellishlibrary · 4 months
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Loser Yan Smut
since the poll got 94% for yes to loser yan smut imma do it ^^
Losers do smth to me istg 😩
anywho— fem reader! reader implied to have slight muscle mass. (For all the strong girlies out there)
Warnings: Story build up, pegging, face sitting, sub character, dom reader, slight biting kink???, teasing, slight bondage, cowgirl (yan riding reader), slight feminization, masc fem reader, reader has a pussy, and cumming on stomach in pt 2
NSFW STORY BUILD UP BELOW CUT
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You and Ozzie, didn’t know each-other- Well you didn’t know Ozzie. Ozzie knew everything of you from your favorite color to your date of birth. He was really just a loser that rambled about anything and the legend of Zelda any chance he got. Meanwhile you were the schools star female football player. Ozzie had drooled over rival football players getting tackled, wishing that it was him.
It was a regular high-school day, you were walking towards your algebra class and you see in the corner of your eye, a slim, pale, boy staring at you in awe. He quickly looked away and blushed, you smirk and find this amusing, maybe you’ll entertain this little big crush of this mysterious boy. You sit in your usual seat and start your assignment, solving the problems with slight trouble, you wonder and ask your seat mate next to you and he says he doesn’t understand either. So you ask the boy who was staring at you earlier for a bit of help.
“hey- do you know the answer to number 5 and 6?”
“Oh— uhm, it’s -27.96 and for number 6 it’s 2684.29..”
The poor boy struggled with the simple sentence and was a blushing mess. You smiled and thanked him, before writing the answers down on the paper. Ozzie then finished the assignment with ease and watched as reader, you, struggled a bit. He was about to offer up help, but didn’t want to be a burden for you. Ozzie then sighed and pulled out his sketch book and doodled your beautiful toned figure and your beautiful face off of memory, it was almost identical to you. Near the end of class, Ozzie quickly collected his stuff and walked out of the classroom, trying to speed to his next class and not get targeted by assholes. Alas, luck was not on his side and he got slammed into the locker by two boys and their girlfriends giggling as their boyfriends target the poor boy. You then walk by the group of people and head over to them, noticing one of them was your teammate on the football team. Then seeing the bloody nose loser on the floor panting, and teary eyes. “Hey- back off Elijah! Leave him alone!”
“do you know this freak, [name]?”
You roll your eyes and push the guy out of the way and help the guy on the floor up and walk away from the now, annoyed group. The boy now looking at you with a blush and bloody nose from being slammed into a locker. You glance at the scrawny looking man and smile. The boy looks away from your glance, his face turning a deep red hue.
“th-thank you for helping me from those guys..”
“oh? Those ass holes, don’t mind them, they’re just insecure jerks”
You shrug and walk the mysterious guy to the nurse, walking awkwardly beside him, his slight heavy breathing and eyes darting towards you every few seconds. You two soon approach the nurses office and get Ozzie’s nose cleaned up. You then awkwardly say goodbye and get to your next class with a tardy pass.
———
1 week later
———
It was another late Friday afternoon; game day. Where you had its final game against your biggest competition! You put on your shoulder pads and cleats, making sure your jersey was on correctly. You then hear the coach call for your team, you smile proudly and jog up to the bench on the sidelines, watching teammates look at each-other with fierce eyes and snarling faces.
Half way into the game, and it was your turn to shine, you get into position. Another male teammate teases you before they blow the whistle and everyone scrambled to get the ball. As you caught the ball you threw it to your teammate, the teammate fumbles the ball and falls, tearing the muscle in his knee. Ozzie watches as the game stops, envying the teammate getting your attention, seeing both teams get on their knee as they check the players knee, they then take the player out of the game, tending to him. Ozzie watches as you get back into position and sigh, seemingly stressed.
Ozzie watches until the end of the game, his eyes observing both your beauty and brawn like perfection. He thinks for a bit before walking over to you, ‘accidentally’ bumping into your chest. You look at the boy who fell on the ground and smirk. Your ego getting the best of you.
“Hey baby, what are you doing here, Ozzie, right?”
Ozzie almost creamed his pants at the nickname, but he let out a shaky breath. His face red and heated, as he looked up to your beautiful face. “Sorry.. I wasn’t looking where I was going (reader)” Ozzie says in a quiet and elated tone. Ozzie then was taken aback when you pulled him in by his waist, your tits pressing against his collar bone.
“I think that you’re lying to me, pretty girl.”
You said in a flirtatious manner, your hands still on his waist. Ozzie could blissfully live like this but his body started to react. His dick began to harden, he quickly realized and tried to hide his erection. You notice and chuckle, your breath against his face. You pull away and let go of his waist, slipping a piece of paper into his hoodie pocket.
As you walked away, he starts to read what’s on it. It reading your house address and a little message stating; ‘wanna have a good time pretty boy?”
He shutters and smiles sickeningly sweet, his dick straining against his pants as he already knew what you had in mind. He hopes that you don’t mind that he already knows where you live, and that he knows your parents are on vacation for the next two weeks.
As he walked to his house happily, when he opened his door, his maid greeted him and took Ozzie’s bag off of his back and calmly put his bag away before bowing and turning to finish cleaning. Ozzie then walked out to his room and started to prepare for his punishment for being a perverted loser, so he locked his door and walked to his closet and opened a hidden, locked, drawer. Filled to the brim with toys, one being your old vibrator and another being your dildo you’ve lost recently.
Ozzie then grabs lube and your underwear and pulls down his pants and underwear before pouring the the cold lube on his man pussy whilst grabbing your vibrator and dildo and sets the vibrator on medium, while he gently fingers his hole to loosen it up before plunging the dildo in his hole.
Ozzie lets out whines and moans as he accidentally brushes against his prostate in a rushed lust filled vision.
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Pt 2??
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GOOD OMENS MASCOT HERE, IT'S MY ONE MONTH ANNIVERSARY ON TUMBLR!
HELLO MAGGOTS I'VE BEEN ON TUMBLR A MONTH (CAN'T REMEMBER WHETHER I JOINED ON 21 OR 22 DECEMBER, SO I'M MAKING THIS POST NEAR MIDNIGHT 21 JAN MY TIME)!
I felt like I should make some sort of post but I am really not sure what to say. And for those of you who may not know, yes I only joined tumblr a month ago. I only was kidnapped into the Good Omens fandom three weeks ago.
For those of you running across this post having no idea who I am, hello, I'm Asmi (uhz-mee), I'm the Official Good Omens Mascot because the fandom decided to uh adopt me as their son, and also am hailed as prophet here. Aside from that clearly scintillating resume, in real life I'm an author, artist and designer.
A brief description of What Happened: I joined tumblr to make a friend or something and spread chaos. A week later, I realised Good Omens was all over my dash but I had no idea what it was, so I made a summary based on what I'd gathered from the screaming. I hoped someone would enlighten me. I had no idea who David Tennant was. Or Michael Sheen.
Instead, 24 hours later and the fandom made an executive decision to kidnap me, install me as mascot, because my sheer dumbassery amused them, and started Good Omens livestreams for me. The coming Saturday will be the final three episodes of season 2. You don't need to warn me, everyone is doing it. Offering emotional support fruit etc.
I also ventured into the Doctor Who fandom. I now know that the TARDIS is blue, not yellow.
It's been three weeks since that happened and, well, here I am. Hello, Tumblr *waves awkwardly* *recollects myself and performs an elaborate bow instead*.
@neil-gaiman also seems to have found the same sadistic amusement in my descent into utter madness as the rest of you. Sir, you have created something marvellous, but some pity would not go amiss. I've gone from not knowing who Crowley is to sobbing uncontrollably over him in three weeks while the fandom rubs their hands in pleasure.
Anyway here is a reminder to all of you maggots, that I love you very, very much, and it is only 57% Stockholm Syndrome. I really, truly love you all. CAN I GET A WAHOO FOR SURVIVING A MONTH HERE?
Cursed take by @1800ineedshelp, you are all free to consider it, if Neil follows my account, does that make him a maggot?
Do with that what you will.
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truebluewhocanoe · 29 days
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Okay, I'm seeing a few people making theories for 73 Yards taking the Mad Jack stuff really seriously, and while there's no wrong way to theorize, I do think it's mostly a red herring. The only people who insinuate that the name written in the fairy circle is that of an Evil Fae Entity are the people at the motel, and they were just having Ruby on for a laugh. (The Doctor corroborates them saying it's a fairy circle, but he says it's done for wishes, hopes, dreams, etc. which is supported by the TARDIS being used for the same thing in the Loop Timeline. It's more of a prayer than a binding seal.) But, one thing we do know for certain is that Ruby attracts concidences. This is an established thing! And her stopping Roger ap Gwilliam doesn't fix her situation, or change her situation at all, which you'd think it would if it was related to the semperdistans. And, as cool as it was, the Doctor said that Roger brought the world to the "brink" of nuclear war, but he didn't succeed, he just came really close. So Ruby wasn't needed to stop him. (And in the Loop Timeline, Roger didn't get the chance to bring the world to the "brink", he was just kind of nearing the end of the road to nuclear war, not the brink. So I don't think it makes sense to say that Ruby undoing herself stepping in the circle means that the world now ends in 2046, it just means that Roger goes all the way to the brink before being stopped, as it would've happened before- in fact, I bet Marti being at the party on Saturday probably would've led to those events, maybe she's the one who stops him in the real timeline.) So that whole thing was just Ruby ascribing a random coincidence that she magically attracted (for reasons as of yet unknown to us) to the probably-unrelated fucked up fairy circle curse she was dealing with.
So yes, an evil fae spirit getting elected prime minister is very fun to theorize about, and nothing I said deconfirmed it, but I personally firmly believe that no, he was just a random guy who really wanted to fire some nukes.
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adventure-showdown · 7 months
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What is your favourite Doctor Who story?
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ROUND 2 MASTERPOST
synopses and propaganda under the cut
Jubilee
Synopsis
Hurrah! The deadly Daleks are back! Yes, those lovable tinpot tyrants have another plan to invade our world. Maybe this time because they want to drill to the Earth's core. Or maybe because they just feel like it.
And when those pesky pepperpots are in town, there is one thing you can be sure of. There will be non-stop high octane mayhem in store. And plenty of exterminations!
But never fear. The Doctor is on hand to sort them out. Defender of the Earth, saviour of us all. With his beautiful assistant, Evelyn Smythe, by his side, he will fight once again to uphold the beliefs of the English Empire. All hail the glorious English Empire!
Now that sounds like a jubilee worth celebrating, does it not?
Propaganda
One of the most thematically rich and well crafted stories in Doctor Who. No story understands both the Daleks, and British imperialism better than Jubilee. Best Doctor Who story. (@finalpam8000 )
The TV Movie
Synopsis
The Doctor, nearing the end of his seventh life, is charged with transporting the remains of his fellow Time Lord, the Master, back to their home planet. Despite his precautions, his old enemy is not only not dead, but is out for revenge. Creating a timing malfunction in the TARDIS, and bringing the Doctor to San Francisco in 1999, the Master escapes and puts his plans into motion. The Doctor must find a beryllium atomic clock and stop the Master, but after being shot down by members of a street gang, how will he succeed?
Propaganda no propaganda submitted
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littlest-nightingale · 6 months
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10th Doctor agere thoughts bc I am not immune to the Doctor, apparently:
The regressor equivalent of a huge dog who doesn't realize he isn't a little lapdog anymore
Seriously he's gonna give his cgs a concussion if he isn't careful
Every one of his companions end up as his caregiver sooner or later
Very quickly switches between perfectly fine and having a panic attack. He's very,,,, fragile, when he's regressed.
He's also incredibly clingy. Please don't leave, please don't leave him, he doesn't want to be alone again =[
He sometimes goes through phases where he convinces himself that he's better off without a cg, because he knows he'll end up alone eventually and figures it's better not to get attached to someone he knows isn't going to be with him forever. Those phases never last more than a week.
He's so much lighter than he should be, or at least he's lighter than he looks like he should be, so it's easy for him to be carried around. Unfortunately he's very. Limbs. He's so lanky that his regressed brain isn't quite sure what to do with his limbs.
Do not let him anywhere near the control panel of the TARDIS. The last thing everyone needs is a toddler aged timelord running around medieval Germany or something. [Because yes, he will try to use the TARDIS while small, if he's bored enough, and yes, he has done it before and it ended very poorly.]
He's fascinated by makeup I think. He's fascinated by a lot of things humans do, but I think he would like makeup. Rose and Martha have both done his makeup on several occasions =D
Hyper! He's got sooooo much energy most of the time and gets very bored in the TARDIS. Goes to the park quite a lot. Martha is working on getting him to not dig holes in the ground. Yes, worms are fun and all, but please don't tear up the grass looking for them, we're on public property.
Has toys but not because he wants to play with them, but because he wants to take them apart.
Doesn't care about the stigma around regression at all. He's an alien with a time travelling police box, why would he? Honestly, his regression is the most normal part about him. So yeah, he's going to go play on that playground even though he's physically a grown man, and he isn't going to give a fuck about the people watching.
He likes to bring stuff to his cg/companion, like how cats bring you dead animals, so his companions end up with a lot of cool sticks and shiny coins and acorns and feathers and whatever else he just happens to find on the street.
I think a dog would be good for him. He needs a friend to help him burn off energy, and also that mental image is adorable, so I'd imagine that he ends up frequenting local shelters a lot, just to keep the dogs company
Forgets to eat until he's actually starving, at which point he becomes really whiny until he gets something in his system
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agent-barnes40 · 5 months
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Secrets
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Dhawan!Master x Reader (Romantic)
The Master figures out a secret, one that you wished you could've hidden for longer
2177 Words
The Master was particular, he planned everything down to the final little detail when it came to you. Perfect clothing options, food options, preferred snack options, preferred drinking options, he had things down to a meticulous science and practiced ease at this point. He just did things on autopilot now when it came to you. He didn't mind doing these things, he just fell into a routine with them and with you.
Today, you were sitting with The Fam at a little alien café, you had chosen to sit out the outward chair, as it was nearing that time for The Master to just up and grab you and then just drag you off. Graham looked over, a smile on his face. "How have you been doing after the last run in with The Master?"
You shrugged. "Good. He's not all that bad, to be honest. I don't know how he can be as callous and rude as you all say he is."
Yaz looked over at you, a shocked look on her face. "He tried to kill us!"
You turned to face her, an eyebrow raised. "And The Doctor had it covered. She kept you all alive. The Master's even started to stock up on my toothpaste too."
"So what you have a room and bathroom in that shack?" Ryan asked and you smiled softly.
"Its not much of a shack, its the same as The Doctor's TARDIS, just replace the sign with a placard that says "HA" over and over instead of the regular text on the little phone door." You said, smiling as the waiter brought over the drinks you all had ordered.
Luckily it was an alien café that had a human menu, for travelers like you guys. You grabbed the shake you had ordered and when you looked up again, you had to stop and just stare. You hadn't registered who the waiter was and you suspected the others just hadn't realized who he was either.
There was The Master, in the uniform and smiling directly at you and it was like he knew you had clicked it. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, thank you." You watched as The Master walked off, straight to the back and you were in shock.
The Fam watched as you just stared at the door, and then Yaz reached over and poked you. "Did you just get a thing for an alien?"
You looked over at her and then looked over to Graham, and then to Ryan before you shook your head. "Thought he looked familiar, that's all."
Yaz shook her head. "You have a thing for an alien!"
You groaned, your eyes drifting back over to look at the kitchen door again, and then looked over where The Doctor was. The Doctor was busy chatting with a local about some weird happenings in the area. The whole reason you all were here, you suspected The Master had done something.
Yaz bumped your leg with hers, a smirk on her face. "I'm sure The Doctor wouldn't mind it."
You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Yeah, yeah. I'll definitely start that conversation with her when she decides to sit down and join us."
It was like speaking The Doctor's name enacted some sort of homing beacon because The Doctor practically spawned back at the table. She reached out for the drink she got and got settled in her chair. "Soo, what are we talking about, fam?"
Yaz looked over at you and grinned. You started shaking your head. "Yasmin Khan, I swear!"
Yaz burst into laughter at you using her full name and so did you, causing the rest of the table to join the two of you. You felt good and then you noticed The Master watching you all and you waved a little at him, gaining one back.
"You totally have a thing for him!" Yaz said and you groaned again.
"I do not have a crush on him!" You said, trying to keep your voice down.
Yaz grinned and pointed. "Called it! You do have something for him. Go ask him out!"
The Doctor was turning in her chair and stilled, mid sip and just stared. "Yaz, describe him for me."
Yaz's face contorted into confusion and that's when you realized and your heart dropped. Yaz looked over at you and noticed your expression. "W-well he's got blue skin and.."
You had to hold in the groan and started to get up, catching The Doctor's attention as she turned to look at you, she called your name and you just kept staring at The Master. "Who do you see?"
"Doctor, I'm not feeling too well. I'm gonna head back to The TARDIS." You said, leaving your jacket behind, wanting to just get it all over with.
You barely got to the door before you felt that familiar hand grab the back of your shirt and had pulled you back. You quickly fell into the grip, stumbling a little. "Hey!"
The rest of the Fam got up, watching as you let the man pull you and then you were shoved to the ground and you winced, knowing your knees were going to be bruised. He usually didn't do the the whole kneeling thing unless he had a bigger plan in motion.
You looked up at him, knowing that all the Fam could see was that blue alien until you heard the sonic and you closed your eyes. You heard the aggravated groan leaving The Master and you reopened them.
"How is he here in place of that blue guy?" Graham asked.
"Perception filter, usually you all wouldn't notice him, but they saw through the filter. Is this the same one from London?" The Doctor was rambling.
The Master looked down at you and his signature deranged grin crossed his face. "Hello Dear."
"Hi. Fancy seeing you here."
You heard footsteps, instinctively turning to look when The Master's hand shot out and grabbed at your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him. You knew it was probably the Doctor judging by how he was reacting.
"Let them go, Master." The Doctor said and The Master's eyes flicked up from you to her.
"You wish I'd stop stealing your precious little pet, they are spending more time with me than you." The Master said, his hand letting go of your jaw as he stared down The Doctor.
"I was wondering why you always took them, but with everything that has happened in the last hour we've been here, its become obvious." The Doctor shot back.
You turned to look at her and noticed the thumbs up Ryan was giving you and you took a deep breath, sending a subtle one back. It was something you as a group came up with if one of you needed to jump in to distract.
Ryan nudged Graham and then Graham nodded, getting the idea. The two of them quickly came up with a plan, one that you wished you knew sooner because in hindsight, it was kind of dumb but it worked.
Graham turned and grabbed your shake while Ryan grabbed your jacket. The two, as confidently as they could, held up the stuff. "Your forgetting something."
You quickly got up, dodging The Master's hands as you bolted for the Fam, sending a little smirk toward The Master. The Time Lord sent you an amused look and you smiled.
The Doctor looked between the two of you and you would've recognized the look on her face if you hadn't been celebrating your little victory over getting out of his clutches. You grabbed the shake from Graham and took a sip.
'Oh, love, it wouldn't be that easy to rid yourself of me.'
"I thought I told you not call me that." You said, not even thinking that the other's couldn't hear what he said. He spent a lot of time in your head and you groaned at the look Graham sent you.
"What have you done to them?" Yaz demanded.
The Master's deranged smile only grew wider at her question and his eyes flicked from you to Yaz. "Didn't you say, Yaz, that they had crush on me?"
Your heart dropped and you slammed the glass down. "Your teetering."
"Oh its a line you let me cross all the time, pet."
"Not to my friends, never my friends." You gave him a pointed look and yet he still pushed.
"Now, was that crush on me or the face I was using?" The Master pushed, the question aimed at you and you shook your head.
The Doctor was looking in your direction as well. You looked between her and The Master. "It was on the perception filter."
The Doctor's face relaxed and turned to fully face The Master. She had already made an escape plan for all of you. She quickly aimed her sonic up at the ceiling, cutting the lights. "Scatter!"
You quickly took off for the door you were already heading for, knowing you were in enough light from outside to be illuminated as you shot through it. Graham and Ryan following behind you as Yaz took off with The Doctor.
You all bolted toward where The Doctor left the TARDIS and you yelped when someone grabbed you, it was softer than before and you barely heard Graham and Ryan yelling as you were pulled through a blue door. You recognized the interior of The Master's TARDIS. He kept the inside the same as the shack but with large and vast hallways, you headed over to your chair. You had always left a new book on the stand next to it, to start reading it when you rejoined The Master.
You yelped as you were pushed to the ground, lightly knocking over a pile of books as The Master stood over you. "What is my name?"
"Master, what's going on?" You asked, you usually didn't feel fear when looking at him, but this time, this time you did. He had that look on his face, that cold calculating look he only gave to The Doctor or to whoever's kingdom he was overthrowing that day.
"Say it again!" The Master demanded, bending a small bit, looking down at you.
"M-Master."
The Master grinned. "Once more pet."
You met his stare and realized he wasn't actually going to hurt you, he was just pissed off that you managed to get a good run away from him in. "Your name is The Master."
"Don't be cheeky. Get up." The Master ordered.
You started to get up, pushing your face close to his as he was still leaned over you. "Can't get up with you being like this, Master. One of us is going to have to move."
"Or you can tell my why you ran away."
Oh so thats what this was really about. You reached up and rested your hand on his face. "I like making things difficult, Master. You like it though."
"Oh do I?"
"You like a challenge. I like to be challenging. Now where are we going?"
The Master straightened up, sliding an arm around you to pull you up with him, making the two of you chest to chest. You barely noticed the position as he scanned your face. You were focused on him fully. "I know you we're lying earlier, love."
"Was I?"
"You have a silly human crush on me. You crave the days I steal you away from her." The Master's words had an air of superiority to them, like he knew the truth of the words he was putting on you.
"You don't understand what your talking about, Master. Lets put a pin in this conversation, please."
"OOOH, you used your manners, love. I'll relent this time but later, we are talking about this." The Master stepped away, your hand falling from his face. He had his answer, you all but confirmed it today and he'd push even more.
The Master's new favorite thing was to make you realize just how hard you had fallen for him.
(Little Bonus because I couldn't help it.) You ran up beside Yaz, waving to the Fam as you got readjusted to life back with The Doctor. The Doctor looked over at you and grinned. "So how was your date?"
"It was fantastic! He.." You stopped mid reply when you realized.
The blond shot her arms up in the air, cheering and certainly drawing the eyes of everyone in the vicinity. "Yaz you owe me!"
You watched the reactions of everyone and relaxed as they all groaned about losing the bet. Yaz looked over at The Doctor, pulling a few pounds out of her wallet. "How'd ya know it was gonna be that easy?"
"Because they've got this whole new relationship glow to them." The Doctor pointed out and you groaned.
"Among other things." Ryan pointed out, his eyes trained on the jacket you were wearing.
You hadn't even noticed you had grabbed The Master's coat. He must've placed his over yours after you had hung it up. "Of course I had to grab his jacket."
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marthawrites · 3 months
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A Tale of Two Moons
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Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader
Word count: 900+
About: At the end of a long day Rhaenyra shares a tale with you, and then offers to share more.
Includes: Soft wlw fluff 🩷
Note: Hello lovely reader! This fic was inspired by @hotd-bigbang! The myth in it was inspired by a bit from Game of Thrones. I wrote this with young Rhaenyra in mind but you can read it with whichever Nyra your heart desires. As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!
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Soft crackles popped from a newly lit fire inside Rhaenerya’s hearth. Various candles burned around her bedchamber, too, creating an atmosphere of quiet serenity. You sat upon a stool by a freshly prepared bath and sprinkled various oils into the still steaming water: lavender, chamomile, bergamot. The princess took her baths near scalding, and the water’s heat bloomed all those fragrances three fold. 
Twiddling your thumbs, there was little to do now aside from waiting. If she didn’t arrive soon she’d likely walk in on you sleeping on the job! Something you’d never done before. 
Each night Rhaenyra saw to her evening meal–as well as any remaining duties–before retiring. Tonight, however, she seemed to be running later than you ever remembered. A slow worm of anxiety creeped its way into your gut. Could something be the matter? Should you alert Queen Alicent? Or, better yet, her father, King Viserys? You were the princess’ favorite maid servant and your word would surely strike a chord of panic.
Standing, you walked over to the large window in her bedchamber and pulled its drapery open. You opened the window next, spring's breeze blowing in, fresh, and admired the view. It was enchanting. Truly. The moon was full and high in a clear sky, and the smooth inky blackness of Blackwater Bay may as well have been a mirror–stars twinkled on its surface. 
If you had it your way–and Rhaenyra had it her way–you'd spend many more nights with her than the scarce few you shared since your employment. She was good at keeping secrets. You were too; something you quickly learned was a not-so-subtle requirement for the job.
You must have been lost in your thoughts because before you knew it the door creaked open and Rhaenyra entered with a heavy sigh. “Oh! I’m sorry. I should have sent someone up to warn you of my tardiness tonight.”
Turning, you did your best to look unworried. “You owe me no apologies, princess. I've your bath ready. And more water on the fire if it starts to cool,” you said, gesturing to the hearth.
“You know you don't have to be so formal when it's just us,” she replied with a playful roll of eyes, taking her gloves off and tossing them on a table.
With a coy smile you offered a half curtsy. “Old habits are hard to break,” you giggled. “I was beginning to worry about you though! Are things… well?”
“Somewhat. Apparently Syrax would not eat for the dragonkeepers and I was summoned to the dragonpit to feed her a sheep. She gets annoyed when I don't ride her. It’s only been a few days since my last ride!” She groaned, sitting down to begin removing her boots.
“Perhaps tomorrow?” You suggested, looking over your shoulder at her with a thoughtful brow; moon calling to you all the while.
“If I have it my way, yes.”
A quiet moment passed as you continued to peer outside and she continued to remove layers of clothing. Before too long she wore only her linen shift. Coming up behind you she rested her chin on your shoulder and looked out to where you were. “See anything exciting tonight?”
Smiling, you turned your head until the tips of your noses brushed together. “Only the moon and stars. Aren’t they beautiful tonight?”
Rhaenerya hummed appreciatively behind you. Both her arms wrapped around your waist, then, swaying gently as she asked, “have I ever told you the tale of two moons?”
Anticipation and warmth settled in your belly with the princess’ affection. Your fingers idly traced over the tops of her hands and forearms, enjoying her embrace. Whispering, you answered, “no, I don’t believe you have.” You leaned back against her, allowing your gaze to slowly pan between her lovely purple eyes and the night sky. The moon’s reflection on her creamy skin and silver hair made her glow.
“Long long ago, before there were dragons, our world had two moons. Together, with the sun, they all danced and played in the sky. Man watched this in awe from the ground. Then, one night, one of the moons danced too closely to the sun. But, it wasn’t merely a moon. It was a dragon egg. It hatched and out came hundreds of dragons. They drank fire from the sun like a newborn babe would drink from its mother. After their fill they came here to live, and with them they brought magic and dragonfire. Brave men–and women–eventually came to bond with these dragons and harnessed their magic in their blood. If the world should ever run out of dragons, perhaps our moon here, now, will dance too close to the sun, too.”
You listened in awe, picturing everything in your mind’s eye. “And you believe this, princess?” You asked with equal wonder and suspicion.
Rhaenerya smiled against your neck, kissing the soft spot beneath your ear. “A part of me does.”
A pleased hum slipped from your lips. “I’d miss the moon terribly if that ever did happen.”
Finally letting you go, she laughed sympathetically. “You stink, sweetling. Like fireplaces, sweat, and… something I can’t quite put my finger on?” 
“Hey!” You exclaimed. “Well, you smell like dragons and sheep!”
 She giggled again, softer. “Been a long day for you too, huh?”
You sighed with a nod. 
“Come join me in the bath?” She asked with a tilt of her head and pull of your hand, pretty lips smirking.
Blushing with excitement, you answered, “I would love to, Nyra.”
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥
To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!
Masterlist
Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel
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munsonthings86 · 1 year
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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.” 
501 notes · View notes
abbygrabska · 4 months
Text
Twelfth Doctor Smut ~ Territorial
For: @toastvogel Plot: Maybe 12 sees the need to "mark his territory" after someone (alien,human, doesn't matter) get a bit too friendly with reader? I really just want to let you write what gets into your mind. As long as it's got 12 in it, I'm happy with everything ;) Tags: biting, belly bulge, hand, size kink
Word Count: 1178
Pulled all of this outta my pussy
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You’re excited as you get dressed, you’re going to a Hollywood party in the 60’s with the Doctor.
You weren’t sure who the host is, but the Doctor seemed to know everyone, so it didn’t really matter.
You decide on a dark blue dress with stars littered all over it, a matching necklace and earrings, paired with silver heels. Your eye makeup matches the dress, and your lips have a clear coat of gloss covering them. 
Just as you finish applying the lip gloss, the Doctor knocks on the door frame.
“Come in.” You call out.
He walks in. He’s wearing a black suit, no tie in sight, though ties never were this face’s thing.
He stares at you, a strange look on his face.
You shift nervously under his gaze, “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He shifts his eyes away from you, “You ready to go?” “Yeah.” You stand, leaving the vanity and walking towards him.
He offers an arm for you to hold. 
You grin, hooking elbows with him, “Let’s go!”
He smiles, leading you out of the wardrobe and into the console room.
The Tardis has been parked on the lawn, near the fenceline of the property.
As you walk across the grass, you realize where you are.
Your grip on the Doctor’s arm tightens in excitement, “Are we at Marilyn Monroe’s house?”
“Yes. Funny story, I accidentally married her once. Thankfully she won’t recognize me.” He gestures to his face, “I’ve regenerated since then.”
“Good for you.”
The two of you join the party seamlessly.
At some point the Doctor wanders off, you don’t question it, he does that occasionally.
“That dress sure is something.” You hear a Southern accent say from behind you. You turn around, it’s Elvis Presley.
“Oh, thank you.” You smile, fluffing the skirt slightly. He pulls out a cigarette, offering you one. 
You shake your head, politely denying it.
“Suit yourself.” He lights one, taking a drag before exhaling, “I don’t reckon I’ve seen you before. Who’d you come here with?” “My friend, the Doctor. He’s around here somewhere.” You glance around the backyard. “Why don’t I keep you company until he comes back?” He smirks, offering a hand.
You hesitate, nerves filling you.
“Is there a problem here?” You hear the Scottish lilt of the Doctor from behind you and relax.
“This is your friend?” Elvis asks.
“Date actually.” The Doctor corrects, putting a hand on your waist.
Elvis chuckles, “Sweetheart, he’s old enough to be your great-granddaddy. Why don’t you and I go somewhere and have a little fun?” The Doctor’s grip tightens on your waist, “What would Priscilla think of you having ‘fun’ with another woman?”
Elvis frowns, pulling his cigarette from his mouth, “How’d you know ‘bout Priscilla?”
“Same way everyone else does.” The Doctor responds vaguely, “Ready to go?” He looks at you.
You nod, and he starts to lead you away.
“Hold it now.” Elvis starts to walk after you two.
He grabs your arm.
The reaction is instant, the Doctor turns and punches Elvis in the face, knocking him over.
You hear several people gasp as the Doctor takes you back to the Tardis.
The doors shut and he pulls you back against his chest.
“Doctor?” He is silent, grabbing your hair and pulling your head to the side, he presses his mouth to your neck and bites down.
A cry escapes you, “What are you doing?”
“Making sure everyone will know who you belong to next time.” He grabs your waist and spins you around, throwing you over his shoulder.
You gasp, “What’s gotten into you?!”
He starts walking through the Tardis, ignoring your question as he takes your shoes off.
He kicks open a door and enters, throwing you on the bed.
You look at him bewildered as he crawls on top of you, bunching your skirt up at your waist.
He grabs your underwear and rips them apart.
Heat floods your face as he shoves two fingers in your mouth, “Suck.”
You do, taken aback.
He pulls his fingers out and starts rubbing at your clit with his thumb, sliding his fingers into your hole.
You gasp at the intrusion, going to grab his arm, only for his free hand to come up and pin your arms above your head.
He looks down at you, an angry look in his eyes, “No touching without permission.”
His thumb rubs tight circles into the flesh as his fingers fuck you.
A coil forms in your stomach, tightening rapidly as his fast pace continues.
Your eyes start to shut, a hand grips your face, your eyes shoot open.
“You’re going to look at me when I make you cum.” He grins wolfishly, sliding a third finger into your warmth.
You let out breathy pants, an orgasm rapidly approaching.
His eyes bore into yours as tears form.
Moans escape you as your walls tighten around his fingers, cumming loudly
Once your cunt releases his fingers he pulls them out, licking them clean.
He stands, stripping himself of his suit coat, unbuttoning his shirt, and unbuckling his belt.
He pushes his trousers and underwear down until his cock slaps against his stomach.
He pumps his cock slowly, flipping you over on your stomach., “I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re going to take it, like a good little girl.”
He lines up with your cunt, pushing in until he’s balls deep.
You can feel him in your stomach.
The Doctor slides his hand underneath you, his hand flat against the subtle bulge, pushing down, watching you squirm, “Oh, am I too big for your poor little pussy?” He taunts, pulling out until the bulge disappears before pushing back in roughly.
You cry out.
He grins against your neck, biting down.
He pistons his hips against you, balls slapping your clit with every thrust.
A second orgasm is forming quickly in the pit of your stomach, walls starting to clench around the Doctor’s cock.
“Your poor little pussy. Squeezing me like a vice, it can barely take my big cock, can it?” He taunts, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slowly, “I’m so deep you’ll feel me for days after I’m done. And believe me, I’m not stopping until my cum is dripping out of you.” His thrusts get rougher, fingers rubbing faster, “Everyone is going to know who you belong to when I’m finished.” 
His hips hit your ass at a bruising pace.
“Doctor!” You cry, “It hurts.” “Oh, boo hoo.” He shoves your head against the bed, the frame shaking as he fucks you.
Your walls tighten around him, cumming with a violent moan.
He grabs your hair, pulling your head up, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth.
His hips press into yours firmly as he shoots inside your womb, continuing to fuck you through his orgasm.
Your thighs tremble as he rubs your clit hard and fast, giving you a third orgasm, screaming into his mouth.
His thrusts slow to a stop, body collapsing onto yours.
Your eyes slowly close, exhausted.
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Is it possible for a gallifreyan to experience something akin to being touch-starved but specifically for touch-based telepathic connection?
Can Gallifreyans Experience Telepathic Touch-Starvation?
Absolutely, it's highly likely Gallifreyans experience something like being touch-starved, but specifically for telepathy. Given their highly developed psionic abilities and sensitivity, an absence of telepathic contact would significantly affect them.
🔮 Telepathic Sensitivity in Gallifreyans
Gallifreyans, especially Time Lords, have a variety of advanced psionic senses, which include:
Recognition of a TARDIS: They can instantly recognise a TARDIS and its condition, feeling tingling when near an energised TARDIS.
Identification of Other Gallifreyans: They can detect members of their own species by a unique psychokinetic signature.
Identification of Psionic Species: They can identify other beings with psionic abilities.
These abilities are facilitated by the epiphysis cerebri (pineal gland), which is significantly more developed in Gallifreyans compared to humans.
🧠 The Role of Telepathic Touch
Gallifreyans often connect telepathically, both consciously and subconsciously. This is a fundamental part of their daily existence, essential for their mental and emotional well-being. It also forms a good part of their relationships. See:
How do Gallifreyans form intimate telepathic relationships?
How should you court a Gallifreyan?
How do Gallifreyans flirt?
🧬 Effects of Telepathic Deprivation
Just like any sense, telepathic abilities benefit from regular exercise. The absence of telepathic contact can lead to a form of sensory deprivation, resulting in:
Mental and Emotional Distress: Without regular telepathic interaction, a Gallifreyan may feel isolated and emotionally disconnected, leading to stress and anxiety.
Reduced Cognitive Function: The lack of telepathic engagement can impair cognitive functions, as their brains are wired to process and exchange information telepathically.
Weakened Psionic Abilities: Prolonged deprivation can weaken their psionic abilities, making it harder to reconnect telepathically.
🏫 So ...
So, yes, Gallifreyans can experience a form of touch-starvation specifically for telepathic connections. Their advanced psionic abilities and the necessity for regular telepathic interaction mean that an absence of such contact can lead to significant mental, emotional, and physiological effects.
Hope that helped! 😃
→🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (WIP) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP)
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lanawinterscigarettes · 6 months
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Hi!! Would I be able to request a 13th doctor imagine where the reader thinks if her like an older sister, and accidentally calls her such?
yes, absolutely! this is my first time properly writing for any of the doctors, so please go easy on me if they're not in character sksdjks
Almost Siblings (platonic! Thirteenth Doctor x reader)
Warnings: reader is mentioned to have some problems with their family (although it's not specified what or how bad it is), tiny hurt/comfort (the reader gets a little emotional near the end and cries some and The Doctor comforts them)
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Growing up, you never really had the best relationships with the people in your family. Maybe there were a few who you got along with, but it wasn't enough to get you to stay when The Doctor showed up.
She asked you to be her companion as she traveled around the universe, and with such an alluring offer like that how could you refuse?
The longer you journeyed with her across the stars, the more you began to look up to her. She became somewhat of a role model to you, almost like the older sister you never had.
You didn't tell her this, though, as you were worried that she didn't think that of you in return. Naturally, your fears were incorrect, as The Doctor absolutely adored you, but you managed to convince yourself that she was that affectionate and caring to everyone when in reality she really wasn't.
You were content to keep your familial feelings towards her a secret for the rest of eternity, and just never bring it up, which all went according to plan... until the one day it didn't.
The Doctor was tinkering around with some of the controls for the TARDIS, while you were working on a crossword puzzle, of all things.
"Hm... six letter word for cat..." you muttered to yourself, tapping your pencil against your chin as you sat back, deep in thought.
"Try feline," she suggested from across the room, ducking down as she began checking out some of the control panel's cords.
"That works." You scribbled in the word before moving on to the next one. "What about a seven letter word for angry?"
The Doctor didn't respond this time, too focused on what she was doing with the cords. Her soft muttering made it quite obvious she wasn't paying attention to you like before.
You shrugged and moved on to the next one, filling most of them out except for a few. Safe to say you were stumped.
"Hey sis, can you come over here and help me figure the rest of these out?" The words left your mouth before you could even process what you were saying. It was only afterwords that you realized you'd made a mistake when you called her sis, a casual word for sister that gave away how you truly thought of her.
"What?" The Doctor poked her head out from around the control panel, a curious look on her face. "Did you say something?"
You breathed a sigh of relief as you realized she hadn't heard you. 'Thank God', you thought to yourself.
"Um, yeah, I was just wondering if you could come over here and help me fill out the rest of these." You tried to keep your voice sounding as calm as possible, even after your anxiety inducing slip up.
She perked up at that, quickly getting up and making her way over. "Yeah, of course! Which ones do you need help with?"
You pointed them out to her, and she did her best with figuring them out until you'd finally done them all. "There you are, now they're all filled out and accounted for." She beamed with pride.
You felt an immense amount of joy at her words. "Thanks, sis," you said as she began walking away. She stopped, and that's when you realized you'd said it again.
"What? What did you call me?" The Doctor asked as she turned back around.
You froze as you tried to think up a lie. When you couldn't, you settled on just telling her the truth. You took a deep breath and said, "I, uh, called you sis. Sorry."
Rather than being upset like you thought, her face split into a wide grin. "That's what you called me earlier, too, wasn't it? Oh, I knew I wasn't imagining things!" She cheerfully clapped her hands together a few times.
"Wait. You... don't have a problem with it?" You asked in confusion, having fully expected her reaction to be the exact opposite of what it was.
"Why would I have a problem with that? I'm glad to know someone as extraordinary as you thinks so highly of me."
Her words were so sincere and heartfelt they ended up bringing tears to your eyes. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," you confessed, clearly choked up.
The Doctor's face fell at the first sight of your tears, quickly making her way over to you. "Oh, dear, are you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." She warmly comforted, rubbing your back soothingly.
You shook your head at her words. "No, no, you didn't upset me. I promise I'm fine, it's just- your words made me a little emotional, that's all."
She nodded her head before asking, "Will you start crying again if I say that you're the best younger sibling anyone could ever ask for?"
You sniffled, trying to fight back the fresh tears as you let out a soft "No".
She patted your shoulder gently in hopes of making you feel better. "Well, you are. The very best." She added, a gentle smile forming on her face.
You smiled back before pulling her in for a hug. "And you're the best biggest sister in the entire galaxy."
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