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#i look at other people’s bodies that look like mine and they’re beautiful
cashew-milkk · 2 years
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so i still have an eating disorder…
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ragingbookdragon · 9 months
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I Do My Hair Toss, Paint My Nails
Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs
Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language
Author's Note: I fucking wrote TF fanfiction omg. Enjoy! -Thorne
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Ironhide:
It’s only the fourth glance she takes out the window that has her nail tech snorting. “Are you worried someone is going to steal your boyfriend’s truck?”
She startles at his words, barely missing the drill bit going into her skin around her nail as she replies, “Huh?”
“You keep looking at the truck,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend’s, isn’t it?”
Her cheeks begin to warm as she swipes a fifth glance at the black GMC. “What makes you say it’s my boyfriend’s? It could be mine.”
“Please. You work in private security. And I know you drive a pink Porsche.” He takes his own look at the truck. “It’s a nice one. It is your boyfriend’s, right?”
“Something like that,” she replies as he dips the brush into the acrylic and begins to lay it over her nails.
He snorts again. “Okay, Miss Mysterious, keep it secret.”
She gives a smile as he continues to work on her nails and she admires them when they’re done, a sleek black stiletto. “Thank you, Ray.”
Giving a mock bow, he replies, “I do my best. Now off with you.”
Waving, she steps outside and nears the driver’s side of the truck, only to be caught off by a sports car slowing to a stop beside her.
“Hey baby,” the man greets, practically hanging outside of the window. “Where you headed?”
She blinks, offering a deadened stare and grips the door handle. “Nowhere you are. Have a nice day.”
“Now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk and starts to get out, but he stops when the truck rumbles with a violent noise. “What the fuck?”
“Easy, Ironhide,” she murmurs, and opens the driver’s door. “Have a lovely day.” Shutting and locking the door, she’s thankful that Ironhide’s windows are tinted and watches as the car pulls away in a hurry.
“You okay?” Ironhide asks. “I can always blast their tailpipe in.”
She laughs. “Thank you, but I think they got the message.”
“Hmm, I disagree, but I’ll take your word for it,” his voice hums through his speakers as he pulls off onto the street. “What did you do in there? You were gone for an hour and a half.”
“Oh, I got my nails painted!” she chirps and flashes her hands down. “See, I painted them black like your paint.”
This time, Ironhide rumbles but it’s with a subtle pride as he compliments, “As beautiful as my weapons, love.”
“Thank you,” she smiles and leans forward, pressing her lips to the center of the steering wheel. “How about we take a drive out of the city?”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he replies and turns off to the main highway pointing out of the city.
***
Rachet:
“I do not understand the process of painting your nails,” Rachet comments as he watches her gently apply a mustard yellow to her nails.
“Which part don’t you understand, big guy?” she replies, not looking up, focusing intently.
“Perhaps it is more so I don’t understand why.”
“Why?”
He nods and gets closer, staring at her hands. “Why are you painting them?”
She looks up at him. “Why me specifically or why do humans paint nails?”
Rachet takes a moment to ponder her question. “Both.”
Sticking her hand under the small gel light, she answers, “Most people paint their nails as a form of self-expression. Others do so as it’s fashionable. Some just do manicures and pedicures to stay groomed. Think of it like you and the others maintaining your own bodies and staying in good condition.” She starts on the other hand when the first is cured. “Some cultures have historic context with painting nails or the length of nails and it’s symbolic to their people.”
“And what of you?” he asks.
“I guess mine is more so expression and maintenance. I work a lot so I can’t always have my nails maintained the way I want, y’know painted and with length. But I always try to keep them clean and nice looking.” She smiles as she paints a red line through them. “Sometimes I’m lucky enough that I get to paint them pretty.”
At that, Rachet tips his head a bit to see. “I’m no human but I do not think red and yellow are technically considered ‘pretty.’”
She gives him a fond look and pokes his nose with her cured pointer. “Really? Because I painted them to look like a similar Autobot I know. Or did you forget you’re red and yellow?”
He coughs slightly and looks away. “Well, now that you mention such a thing.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re flustered, Rachet.”
“Nonsense,” he retorts as he stands up straight, and she has to crane her neck to see him. “Autobots don’t get flustered.”
“I think you’re leaking oil, big guy,” she teases, and he turns hurriedly, patting himself down.
“What! Where!”
“I’m joking,” she says with a grin. “Still set on not being embarrassed?”
***
Bumblebee:
She sits at the station next to Bumblebee as he fumbles with the metal Rubik’s cube she had made for him. “What color should I paint my nails, Bee?” she asks, opening the case, and she really shouldn’t be painting her nails at work, but considering most of the higher ups are in meetings and the facility is a ghost town, she doesn’t have much to do.
Bumblebee looks down, optics zooming in on each color she lifts up for him to see.
“I’ve got blue…red…black…ooo, what about green?” she offers a deep evergreen up and he scowls and shakes his head. “No?”
He sticks a finger into the case and carefully digs around until he pulls out a tiny tube and hands it to her.
“This one?” she asks and looks at the bottle. “Sunrise Yellow,” she says and looks at him. “It matches you.”
This time he gives her a smile of pride and hands her the black bottle as well, gesturing to her middle and ring fingers.
“You want these ones painted black and the others yellow?”
“Yeah baby!” the line from a comedy movie comes over his voice and she snorts.
“Okay, Bee,” she answers and opens the bottles. “Nails that look like you coming up.” she watches as he grins to himself and dances slightly. “You keep it up, Bee, and everyone is going to know you like me.” She pauses and looks at her hands with a deadpan stare. “Actually, they’re going to think I like you.”
He bends down and gets face to face with her. “You do like me.” The words are easy enough to decipher in his rumbles and she looks away.
“Get outta heeya,” she mocks with warm cheeks, and he laughs at her. “Hey, you better stop laughing at me, or do you not remember how you practically tripped over yourself when I wore a dress the other day and you weren’t paying attention. Ran right into the high-beam and maintenance is still working on fixing it.”
At that, his battle visors come down and he hides his face as embarrassed rumbles escape him; she takes the opportunity to slide up onto his leg and sit with a smile as she paints her nails.
***
Optimus:
She greets the soldiers around her with a smile as she enters the facility and wanders back to her desk to set her things down. It’s only a few moments before Lennox finds his way to her desk and simply stands in front of it until she looks up. “Good morning, Will.”
“You’re late,” he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “We had training this morning. And you missed it.”
“And I think you forget I was transferred to private security.” She smiles amusedly. “I don’t work for the military anymore.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you get out and you turn into a completely different person.”
“I am not. Excuse me for enjoying not waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to go running.” She turns on her computer and sorts some paperwork on her desk. “I had an appointment if it appeases your annoyance, your royal eminence.”
“Oh, it’s not me that needs to be appeased. It’s a certain Autobot that was worried about your lateness,” he teases as she feels her cheeks heat up.
She gives him a surprised but pleasant look. “Optimus was worried about me?”
She knows she’s said too much when Lennox’s face splits into a smirk and he gloats, “I fuckin’ knew it was Optimus. Epps thought it was Sideswipe.” His grins grows as she throws her pen at him and he saunters off with, “Guys owe me fifty.”
A few minutes pass as the embarrassment begins to fade when a noise startles her and she lets out a groan and gripes, “William, go awa—Optimus!” she hides her files on her desk as if it will take away the fluster she feels. “I—I didn’t know you were there.”
The Autobot leader bends down to get level with her. “You weren’t at training this morning,” he notes, and she can’t help how her neck disappears into her shoulders.
“I was busy…I had an appointment.”
“Oh?” He blinks, blue optics watching her carefully. “Was it a medical appointment? Are you well?”
“I’m fine,” she replies. “I went to go get my nails done.”
He blinks again, this time almost confused as he asks, “Your…nails?”
She shows her hands, and he lowers his, gently taking both of hers in one; they only rest on one finger as he examines them. “In human culture, men and women paint their finger and toenails different colors. It’s called manicure and pedicure. I have acrylic nails. Made from acrylic glass and hardened with a liquid monomer. It creates a hardened surface that can be drilled and painted. Like mine.”
Optimus looks them over before he murmurs almost uncharacteristically quiet, “They are painted like my paint.”
Her cheeks warm and she looks away. “I…know we can’t exactly be open…people wouldn’t understand but…I just thought it would be a romantic gesture I guess.”
“I am honored,” he says with a smile. “They are painted beautifully…like you.”
“Optimus,” she replies with a warm smile. “Thank you.”
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mindmelter · 3 days
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Felix The Perfect Toy
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Felix was the hottest jock in my school. Everyone knew who he was and everyone wanted to be his friend.
And I was no different; I was obsessed with his good-looking face, his fit athletic body, and his loud yet charismatic personality, and he had this casual, effortless way of carrying himself like he didn’t even realize how perfect he was.
But it’s not just the looks. Felix is different. While the other popular guys are absolute douchebags, Felix is kind, even to people like me. He could have anyone he wanted—everyone wants to be around him—but he never treats anyone like they’re beneath him. That’s what makes him even more attractive: he’s not just the best-looking guy in school, he’s actually good. It’s maddening how perfect he is.
I dreamed of having him all for myself, but I could barely approach him without having a full-blown panic attack. I knew someone like him would never pay attention to someone like me.
He was the captain of the school's swim team which gave him a fit athletic body to fantasize and drool all about.
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Every time I watched him swimming, my mind would wander, fantasizing about licking the water on his body, tasting his hairy armpits, or finally seeing what he hides under those speedos. Unfortunately, that was all he was to me; a fantasy.
When my parents died when I was twelve, I moved in with my very wealthy grandfather. At first, he seemed like a frightening and enigmatic figure—an imposing man of few words, as people would say. But as the years passed, I gradually grew accustomed to his unique personality.
I never knew what he worked for, how he became so rich, or why he was always traveling, which consequently would leave the mansion all to myself. It was lonely, I will admit, I had no one else to share that beautiful mansion with.
One day we were having breakfast together. He was wearing a black robe, flipping through the newspaper with his usual silence, rarely acknowledging me. I sat across from him, stirring my coffee absentmindedly, my mind wandering back to Felix, as it often did.
"You seem distracted," my grandfather said without looking up.
I froze, unsure how to respond. I never talked about my feelings, especially not around him. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about teenage crushes.
"Just... thinking about school," I muttered.
He lowered the paper slowly, folding it neatly before setting it aside. His cold gaze fixed on me, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You’re not a very good liar, boy. What’s on your mind?"
“It’s… this guy,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up.
He already knew I was gay, so that wasn't a surprise to him.
“A guy?” he repeated, almost as if testing the word. "Go on."
"Yeah, a guy from school," I said, avoiding eye contact with him, “Felix. He’s... I don’t know, he’s just... perfect. And completely out of my league.”
My grandfather remained silent, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me or just waiting for me to keep going.
“I mean,” I continued, unable to stop myself now that I’d started, “he’s popular, everyone loves him. He’s the captain of the swim team, and… well, I like him. A lot. But there’s no way he’d ever notice me. I’m... no one compared to him.”
For a long moment, my grandfather just watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“I see,” he said slowly. “So you have feelings for this... Felix. You wish you could have him?"
I nodded, feeling embarrassed for even admitting it. "Yeah. But like I said, he’s way out of my league.”
There was a strange look in my grandfather’s eyes, a glint of something I couldn’t quite place. He stood up from the table, smoothing his robe as he moved toward the door.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said cryptically before disappearing into the hallway.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought maybe he was just being his usual mysterious self.
A week later, it was my 18th birthday, but it could as well be any other day since I had no one to spend my birthday with, not even my grandfather, as he was still traveling.
That day at school, I noticed Felix had missed all his classes. That was odd since he had swimming practice that day. I was sad because I was eager to watch him getting all wet in the pool that day; it would be my birthday gift.
Later that day I came back home from school. The house was eerily quiet, as it often was.
When I opened the door to my room, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. There, in the middle of my room, was a large and long box. Confused, I approached it cautiously, there was a red present lace on top of the box, I pulled it off and slowly opened the box, and inside I saw... I let out a scream and fell to the floor.
My breath caught in my throat.
Felix?
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He was motionless with his eyes open, while he was wearing a white tank top and black shorts. He looked perfect, too perfect—like a doll.
I backed away, my heart thudding in my chest. "W-what the hell...?"
This couldn't be Felix; it must be an identical replica of his body, I thought. There was only one way to find out. I slowly approached him and ran my hand on his face, and I felt his soft and warm skin. It was really him, but somehow... different. His eyes were empty, and his body was unnaturally stiff. I gently placed my hand on his chest and felt a heartbeat. It was very slow... actually, too slow for a person—one beat for every five seconds—but at least he had a heartbeat.
A low chuckle came from the doorway. I turned and saw my grandfather standing there with a grin on his face. He stepped inside the room, his cold eyes drifting between me and Felix.
"I see you’ve found your gift."
I swallowed hard, "What... what did you do to him?"
"Consider it your birthday present," he said, "I couldn't let my grandson put himself down over a dumb boy, now you have him."
I stared at him, speechless.
"You don’t have to be alone anymore. He will keep you company when I'm out traveling. He’s yours now, exactly how you wanted."
"But... he’s not... he’s not real, he can't be real!" I stammered.
My grandfather smiled. "Oh, he’s real. But let’s just say I’ve made some... modifications to his brain." He stepped closer, looking down at Felix with a clinical detachment. "You can do whatever you like with him. He won’t resist. He was programmed for obedience only. He sees himself now as a toy, and you as his ultimate owner. Isn’t that what you wanted?"
*Programmed for obedience?* The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine, but not in a bad way.
I glanced up at my grandfather, and for once, I didn’t feel like I had to hide my feelings. “You... did this for me?” My voice cracked. I could barely believe what I was seeing. Felix—*my* Felix—was lying right in front of me, his perfect body ready and waiting.
My grandfather nodded, his expression still cold, but there was something else in his eyes—satisfaction.
"Of course, the way you spoke about him, I know what it means to desire something so deeply, you feel powerless. So I decided to remove that powerlessness for you."
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving Felix’s perfectly still body inside the box, “I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, but I never thought...”
My grandfather chuckled, “No need for words, boy. Just enjoy your present, he’s been prepared for you.”
I stepped closer to the box, Felix's features were serene while he stared at nothing. He wasn’t just a fantasy anymore—he was real, and he was mine.
I reached out, my hand trembling as my fingertips brushed against his handsome face. Warm. Awake. And yet completely not.
“He won’t... fight me?” I asked, almost breathless.
“No,” my grandfather replied. “He’ll do exactly as you say. He’s been modified to please you, to follow your every command.”
I turned to my grandfather and smiled. “Thank you,” I said.
My grandfather gave a small nod. "I knew you'd understand. You're my blood, after all. Just remember to never let him out of the house. He's still missing as far as everyone knows. You're 18, so he's your responsibility now."
I looked down at Felix again, feeling a sense of ownership, of power, that I had never felt before. My fantasies were no longer just in my head—they were right here, ready to be made real.
As my grandfather turned to leave the room, he paused at the door, giving me one last glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and there's a manual in the box, enjoy your present."
Once he was out of my room, I locked the door for privacy. Then I picked Felix up from the box. His body was heavy, as expected, but after some hard effort, I managed to drag him to my bed.
Just for fun, I posed his right arm, making him flex.
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He looked so serene, so peaceful like he was asleep. But his eyes, those beautiful eyes that I had dreamt about, stared into nothingness. They were the only indication that something was wrong—or right—with him.
I couldn't hold any more second and started to undress him, first taking off his white tank top, then I pulled down his shorts. I was surprised to see he was wearing his swimming speedos.
He probably was abducted after his swimming practice. His body was even more amazing from closer, and to think that for so long, I just watched him from afar...
The realization of having Felix lying on my bed made me start leaking.
I lifted both his arms into a flexing pose.
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A smile crept onto my face as I buried my face into his armpits and took a deep sniff, but I was disappointed; he didn't smell like I was expecting to. I wanted to smell his sweaty, musky armpits, but instead, he smelled faintly like a factory or a lab.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I had to figure out how to make him more 'alive'; I needed him to produce the sweat I was so looking forward to sniffing and lick. I wanted him to act more like the real Felix.
That's when I remembered about the manual my grandfather talked about, the instructions were surprisingly detailed. It was like a manual for a very expensive, very human-like sex doll. But this wasn't a doll; this was Felix. After searching for a while, I found a section titled "Activation and Customization."
"To activate your toy, you must press a button installed in your toy's nape. This will initiate the awakening process," the instructions said. I quickly started searching Felix's stiff neck for the button, finally, my fingertips found a small, unnoticeable button hidden under his skin at the base of his neck.
I took a deep breath and pressed it. Nothing happened at first until his eyes fluttered and started to roll in circles as if it was imitating a loading icon.
Suddenly, Felix's body jerked to life. He looked around the room with a vacant expression, his pupils dilating as he took in his surroundings. I watched, frozen, as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"H-Hello, Felix," I managed to say, my voice quivering.
He stared at me, his gaze unflinching and his movements mechanical. "Hello, Master," he responded in a monotone voice. "I'm your toy, Felix. How may I serve you?"
"Ummm, can you... Can you act more like the old... umm, real Felix?"
I watched as his eyes started to swirl again; he then looked at me—the same look that I had seen countless times at school when he was about to tease someone or when he was flirting with the girls. "I'm sorry for acting weird, dude," he chuckled, his voice sounding so much more natural, he then smirked and looked around my room. "That's a nice room you have, did you win the lottery or something?" He joked.
"Well, kinda... ummm... but you are definitely my best prize so far," I said, It was funny how I was still nervous about talking with him, even though I knew he was my brainless toy now. "So, how do you feel?"
Felix rubbed his head and chuckled. "I feel fine, man. A little stiff, but I guess that's to be expected after being in a box all day." He looked down at his body, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised, "But, dude, what the fuck? Why am I in only my speedos?"
I blushed and stumbled over my words. "Well, you know, you don't have to wear clothes around me, you're my toy now."
Felix relaxed, "You're right, I don't have to wear clothes around you." With that, he stood up and pulled down his speedos, revealing his big soft cock. I gasped at the sight.
"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered, my eyes glued to his cock.
"You said I don't have to wear clothes around you, speedos are technically clothes, aren't they?" He said with a cheeky smile.
I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
He walked over to me, his cock swinging gently with every step. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. "So, what do you want to do with me, dude? I'm your toy, and as a toy, I deserve to be played with."
"I-I would like you to do push-ups for me, p-please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Felix nodded and dropped to the floor, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself up and down. I watched, mesmerized, as he performed the task with ease.
"Is this what you had in mind?" He asked, looking up at me with a smirk while still doing push-ups.
I nodded, my cock now rock hard in my pants. "Yes," I managed to say. "It's exactly how I fantasized for so long," I pulled my hard cock out and started jerking off to the sight of my crush, obeying my every command.
For so long I had jerked off to Felix's photos, and now here he was, in the flesh, doing push-ups in front of me. The reality was so much better than any of my fantasies. I couldn't believe this was really happening.
After almost one hour of nonstop push-ups, Felix's amazing body was glistening with sweat. The smell was starting to fill my room, it was heavenly! He looked up at me with a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, I kinda wanted to know how far he could keep doing pushups, but I didn't want to break my new toy.
"That's enough Felix, sit on that chair over there with your hands behind your head. I want to taste your sweaty armpits."
"Yes Master." Felix obeyed immediately, sitting down with his arms behind his head and looking up at me expectantly.
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My cock bobbed as I walked to him and sat on his lap; I leaned down and took a deep breath, filling my nose with the musky scent of his armpits. I then slowly stuck my tongue out and licked the saltiness from his skin, savoring the taste of the most popular jock in my school. His body tensed, but he didn't move away.
"That's so disgusting dude, how can you get off by licking the dirty armpits of another dude?!" He exclaimed with a mix of shock and confusion, but he didn't resist.
I chuckled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It's not just any armpit, Felix. It's yours."
After spending the entire evening sniffing and licking every inch of Felix's sweaty body, I decided it was time to take things to the next level. "Alright, Felix," I said, getting off from him, "I want you to lift your legs and spread them, keep your hands behind your head."
Felix looked at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion, but he did as he was told, his body now programmed to obey his new owner.
"That's so humiliating," he murmured.
My heart was racing. This was it—the moment I had been dreaming of for so long. I looked down at him, his body now mine to explore and use as I wished. "Don't worry," I whispered, trying to reassure him, "you're going to enjoy this, I promise."
I leaned in between his legs and kissed him softly. His body tensed up, he clearly wasn't happy about kissing another guy, but he didn't pull away and just let me explore his mouth. Encouraged, I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth and exploring it as he lay there, unmoving. "That's fucking gross.... uuurrghh, I'm not gay," he mumbled against my lips.
"It doesn't matter if you are gay or straight, Felix," I whispered as I continued jerking him off, "You're my toy now."
He stared at me, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger. "What the fuck, man? I'm nobody's toy!" He breathed out, his voice cracking slightly.
The programming really did a good job at mimicking Felix's real straight personality. Ignoring his protests, I reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it gently, but he wasn't getting hard, of course he wouldn't, I thought with a chuckle.
"Get hard for me," I commanded, watching his cock swell in my hand. "Does this feel good?"
Felix let out a moan, his body betraying his protests. "No, it...uurrghhh... it doesn't," he gritted out, his voice filled with need.
"Then let's try this," I aimed my cock against his tight ass, I felt his body tense up, but before he could react, I inserted the tip, feeling his muscles clench around me.
"What the fuck!" He shouted, trying to sit up, but I pushed him back down gently.
"Don't move," I whispered, "I want you to love this. Remember, you're not just my toy, you're my sex toy. Your purpose is to give me pleasure."
I watched Felix's eyes rolling in circular movement for a few seconds, then he suddenly looked at me with needy puppy eyes.
"Aawwwwwwghhh! This feels so fucking good! I love how you fill my ass, dude!" He moaned.
I grinned and pushed deeper inside him, feeling his tight straight ass envelop my shaft. I began to thrust in and out of him, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. His moans grew louder and louder; the command for him to love it was really proving to be effective.
As I fucked him, I couldn't believe how perfect it felt. Soon I was fucking him real hard, my hips slapping hard against his ass, the sound echoing through my room. As I thrust inside him, I leaned in and buried my face in his armpits. I took deep sniffs as I heard Felix's moans grow louder and more desperate.
"You're mine Felix, forever!" I moaned against his armpits as I came inside him.
While I was still inside of him, I commanded him to cum, but just when he was in the middle of his orgasm, I pressed the button in his nape, and he froze mid-orgasm, his face now frozen with his eyes rolling back and tongue sticking out.
But I was surprised to see his cock was still shooting cum all over his abs, some even landed on his face and tongue. I guess the programming isn't able to stop an ongoing orgasm.
Pulling away, I looked down at him, lying on the chair with his body covered in sweat and cum leaking from his ass. His handsome face, was now distorted in a mindless dumb expression.
I decided to give him a bath, to clean off the sweat and cum that covered him, but also because he still had some of the "factory" smell on him.
I filled the tub with warm water and called him to get inside the bathtub. He was in his mindless, obedient state; that was his default mode. I wasn't in the mood to bathe a loud and rebellious toy.
His eyes were glazed over as I cleaned his body, it was so cute.
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As I washed his pecs, I couldn't help but playfully pinch his nipples. I continued my exploration, moving down to his abs and then to his hard cock, which was still hard since I first commanded him to be.
"You're such a good toy," I praised, giving his shaft a gentle tug. "I've always loved you, Felix, yet you never noticed me," I whispered as I washed his hair with shampoo, "you were always surrounded by so many friends and busy with girls, why would you notice someone like me, right?" I said, washing his pecs and abs. He didn't respond since he was in default mode, but I wasn't expecting him to. "I'm so glad we have each other now. I promise we will have a lot of fun together."
When I was finished, I told him to step out of the bath and sit so I could dry him. As I was drying his muscles, an idea suddenly came to me. I pressed his nape and gave him a command...
After I was done with the command, he tilted his head and smiled at me.
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"Why use a towel, Master? Use your tongue to dry my sexy body." He then pulled the towel from his lap, giving me full access to his throbbing shaft, "And I think you should start with my cock."
__________________________
I've been enjoying my new toy for months now.
Felix's disappearance is commented on to this day, no one knows what happened to him after he left the swimming practice. Somehow, the organization in which my grandfather worked managed to clear all the evidence of his disappearance from that night.
I was back home after a boring day at school, and like every day since I got Felix as my toy, I spent the day looking forward to coming back home to him.
As I walked into my room, I was greeted with the sight of Felix "sleeping" on a chair.
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He always spends the day "Inactivated" when I am out. I walked to him and pressed his nape, activating him.
When he saw me he gave me a warm smile and stretched his arms, teasing me by showing his armpits.
"Welcome back Master, please come take your daily dose of your toy's armpits."
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331 notes · View notes
misstycloud · 7 months
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Yandere Omega with a reader who has a lot of money and treats him like royalty, in addition to being super affectionate and coveted by other omegas
Sry this sucks I wanted it gone from my drafts or it’ll be there forever💀
——————
“I want more grapes.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Actually, add some strawberries while you’re at it.”
“Certainly.”
Inside a lavishly decorated penthouse, numerous people were running around doing different task assigned to them. The stress and anxiety of not performing their task correctly or perfectly enough hung well over their heads in a thick ominous cloud.
“Ah, be careful with those! They’re not cheap. Geez, you’d think they’re worth less than carboard the way they’re handling them”
The orchestrator of this was none other than a frail-looking young man, and not at all a scary operator.
He was beautiful- the man. Without a doubt one of the best looking people you’d walk by in your life. Which is obviously one of the reasons for his now luxurious lifestyle.
“Excuse me, sir?” said a voice nervously.
The omega swallowed the berry in his mouth, chewed lazily before saying, “Yes.”
“Your- ehm- order has arrived.”
He furrowed his brows, going through his memories, “But you said the bone china plates already arrived a few days ago? And that painting I wanted, it’s right there in the wall, you see.”
The attendant cleared his throat uncomfortably while loosening his collar. “Yes, they did arrive as well as the painting. However this is one of the- ehem- special orders. I put them away privately in your bedroom.”
Suddenly a lightbulb went off in the beautiful man’s head and he exclaimed in delight, “Ah, you mean one of those orders! Why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?”
The attendant didn’t even bother to answer, knowing his master had already ran off to unbox his items.
The omega squealed in joy as soon as he opened the box. Inside, perfectly wrapped in protective layers, laid a matching set of lingerie. Created from exquisite lace the handmade underwear came at a hefty price. Not that he was the one paying.
Gosh, he was so lucky! You really spoiled him so much. No wonder his head is turning in the wrong direction. He was living every omega’s dream. Managing to catch the attention of a highly respected and wealthy alpha is something every omega is told they’re supposed to do, but it doesn’t guarantee the consequences coming with it are great.
Not all alpha’s carry the same respect for others, especially omegas. But you were different! You treated him with outmost care and spoon-feed him every second. Oh, he just loves you so much!
“I’m home!” A voice rung through the penthouse and reached him.
“Sweetie!” The omega hurried to the front door to greet his lover.
You were slightly thrown back because of the force he had gathered when he hit against your body. You hugged him to your body and ran your fingers through his hair. Leaning down to his height, you breathed in his wonderful scent and smiled in bliss. Then your nose travelled further down to his neck.
"Haha, hey!" The omega squirmed slightly in your grasp. "That tickles."
"Did you miss me?" You ignored his pleas and continued sniffing him while asking directly if he'd thought about you today.
He became quiet for a moment before saying, "No."
But when you began affectionatly tickle him for real he changed his tone fast. Both of you landed on the floor (you made sure he wasn’t harmed, of course) in a laughing mess as he begged for mercy and gave up fighting you.
He blushed before admitting, “Okay, I did miss you. A lot actually.”
“Of course you did. After all, you are mine. My little omega.”
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moutainrusing · 2 months
Text
illness
987 words, @wolfstarmicrofic
Poking Sirius’s forehead was his mother’s wand. Running the length of Sirius’s body was his father’s wand. Tradition of the Black heir turning sixteen: make sure he had no disabilities. No setbacks, disadvantages, handicaps.
With stern frowns, they analysed the results. Then, “Get out.” They faced each other in shock, having said that simultaneously. He has both?
“What?” Sirius croaked.
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Orion bellowed.
Walburga shoved Orion, caterwauling, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU CRETIN!”
“NO SON OF MINE, YOU CRIPPLE!” Orion screamed.
“HE’S NOT MINE, EITHER!” Walburga roared. (Now she was yelling more at Orion than Sirius…?)
His parents’ faces had twisted, fury curling their lips, passion blotching their cheeks red, anxiety shaking their hands, regret furrowing their brows, sadness freezing their voices, sharpening them to ice. They blamed themselves for his disabilities. Their genes, their problem. Upset he turned out this way, riddled with issues. Bitter, because how could life do this to them? If word got out, eyes would turn to them. This is your invalid? Makes sense.
Sirius nodded slowly, eyes prickling. He didn’t want to be disabled. The first thing people saw about him: the fact that he was incapable, helpless, hopeless. They would judge him while pretending they weren’t. There was always stigma around it. He was weak, dumb, weird. “I— I’ll go. But… what’s wrong with me?” He looked at his parents pleadingly. Fix me.
“Mental illness and physical,” Walburga scoffed.
Orion snarled, “Won’t live past thirty, wretch.”
“Unstable in both mind and muscle. They’ll all give up on you, as they should. Immobile, paralysed.” Walburga laughed shrilly, “Get out.”
“While you can still walk,” Orion sneered.
Sirius nodded silently, a sob choked up in his throat. When he shut the door, he heard his parents break. He followed suit, in tears on the street.
- - -
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT YOU’RE A WEREWOLF, REMUS. I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Sirius took a deep breath. “You,” he jabbed Remus’s chest. “Being. A. Werewolf. Doesn’t. Matter.”
“But it does.” Remus shoved Sirius’s hand away pitifully. “I’ll hinder your life. You can find love with someone worthy, live a beautiful life until you’re grey and old—”
“I’LL NEVER BE GREY AND OLD!” Sirius yelled, not catching the words before they left his mouth. His eyes widened.
“What?” Remus stammered.
Sirius laughed harshly. “I’ll probably die before you. In fact, I’m the one who’ll hinder you.” He bowed dramatically, “I’m sick.” He jabbed his chest, “I can already feel it. Y’know how you call me clumsy?” Sirius smirked depravedly. “Well, that’s my muscles spasming. Ain’t working properly. They’re giving up on me like my parents did. Like you’re doing. And I’m crazy?” Sirius cackled, “That’s my brain. Fucking disabled.”
“Sirius,” Remus whispered.
Sirius pointed frantically, “See?! Already scared of me!”
“No, Sirius,” Remus shook his head softly. “Whatever is going on is not a problem. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re human.”
“Yeah, right, say that to yourself,” Sirius scoffed.
Remus sighed, “It’s different—”
“Is it though?” Sirius glared. “I’m gonna die early ‘cause of something I can’t control, something people still blame and judge me for. Their discrimination is more pointless than I am.”
“You’re not pointless,” Remus argued.
“And you?” Sirius returned, eyebrow raised.
“I’m not…” Remus winced, finishing pathetically, “Pointless.”
“Ha!” Sirius crowed victoriously. “You don’t believe it! How am I supposed to believe that being disabled isn’t a curse when you act like that?! When everyone acts like that?! You coo and reassure someone else it’s okay, but when it’s you?!”
“I…” Remus was at a loss for words.
Fine. Sirius had way too much for both of them. “Why do you add on to the discrimination already there?”
Remus shook his head helplessly.
Sirius prodded, “Why can’t people let us be? Everyone’s gonna die, so let us be happy. When I first found out, I hated myself. But then I realised that even with disabilities, I am still myself. I’m still brave, smart, whatever. I never stopped. And my parents’ve always been wrong. Of course they were wrong about disabilities, too. I dunno what’s gonna happen to me, but then, does anyone? You could get caught in an accident any day! We could die any day! You’re a werewolf, but you never stopped being Remus. You never stopped being thoughtful, beautiful, lovely, mine. My friend,” Sirius clarified, smiling gently.
Loud again, “But we should be more if we both want that. Let us want! Take all the love you get, because so many people will deny you the best life you deserve. So what if it doesn’t last? If it’s not always happy? Let yourself live.”
Remus was crying. While Sirius could still move his fingers, he brushed the tears away.
- - -
Sirius did make it to thirty. Wheelchair-bound, unable to move a muscle nor talk, brain functioning perfectly, heart beating a love song for Remus.
He could move a few muscles. His thumb: up and down, up and down as he pressed the button of a Muggle invention to form words on this screen.
He could write books on anything, all the knowledge of OWLs and NEWTs and beyond firmly stuck in the crevices of his brain.
Remus pulled a chair up next to him, having also made it to thirty: grey-haired, smiling, walking with a cane, tired, living, bones aching, thinking, dreaming, being.
Scanning over Sirius’s document, Remus’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Sirius with a grin. “You’re the smartest person I know.”
Sirius couldn’t say anything except stare at Remus in awe. But that was okay, because Remus had enough words for both of them.
Remus leaned towards Sirius, giving him enough time to roll away if necessary, before slotting their lips together. “You’re amazing. I love you,” Remus mumbled. Sirius put all his effort, energy, love towards smiling into the kiss. Nothing happened, but he knew Remus could feel it anyway.
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spookysteddie · 8 months
Text
Studio Sessions
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18+ MINORS DNI
Modern!rockstar!Eddie x influencer!fem!reader
Series masterlist here
cw: voice recording during sex, reader gets insecure, studio times, fluff, flirting, pet names, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, dirty talk, reader gets what she wants.
wc: 3.6k
a/n: this got away from me... I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to send in requests for these two if you have them!! ALSO: this is the last post for them I'll have with a tag list... it's so much work and not that I dont love y'all ( I do) it's just hard. I hope y'all still love me and understand ❤️.
...
Is it normal to miss someone you just met? 
Is it normal to go on a few dates, sleep over their house like every night and still miss them immensely when they're gone? 
You and Eddie have spent every moment together since that first real date. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend yet? No. But you really don’t like to think too far into that one because then you’ll spiral, which is no good for anyone.
It didn’t matter too much. You knew it didn’t matter and you knew that he wasn’t fucking anyone else because he was either in your bed at night, or you were in his. I mean he could be fucking other people during the day, but you doubted it. 
Back to the missing him part. It feels weird to miss someone who is a few feet in front of you, who you can literally see. But here you are, Eddie standing on the other side of some glass gathering things, and you miss him. You can’t help your thoughts from wandering back to if he feels the same way. But also, why would he? Men don’t act like that, right?  
“Sweetheart, you ready?” Eddie's voice cuts through the fog of uncertainty. 
You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. You were in the studio with Corroded Coffin, getting to watch their recording process. Eddie is right, there is something missing from a few of those songs, but you’re unsure if your voice is what is missing. You’re willing to try, though, still honored every agreed to this.
Eddie sets you up, putting headphones on you so you can hear the music. “Okay, sweet angel, don’t get too close to the mic because it can cause the sound to get a little weird. Got it?” 
“I got it.” You grin up at him. He kisses you sweetly, your body growing hot. 
He leaves, going to stand outside the booth with the rest of the band and his producer. He gives you a thumbs up, smile lighting up his face. He’s been more than excited that you agreed to do this. 
You hear a count before the music starts, you quickly look down at the lyrics sheet in front of you. When you get the cue you start, turning on the most bedroom voice you can manage, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you speak. “Mine, be mine. Love me. Never let me go.” 
You smirk at him as he squirms, his friends hitting his arm. You aren’t sure why it makes you happy to watch him squirm but it does. You let out a laugh, real and loud, instead of saying your next lines. 
The producer perks up, cutting off the music, “oh my god, that was amazing! I need more of those.” 
You feel your face get warm, a small and shy giggle leaving your chest. You don’t hear Eddie enter the room, but you can feel him. His energy calling to yours. You hum, not caring that they’re still recording you. 
He pulls your headphones off, “great job, sweetheart.” 
“Thank you, baby.” You lean in kissing his lips. It’s quick, just enough to get a taste of him. “This is a lot of fun. I like this!” 
“You sounded very beautiful.” 
You giggle, looking up at him grinning, “I was just talking.” 
He kisses your forehead and whispers to you, “no. You were using that voice you use when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.” 
You freeze, looking up at him. He’s looking at you with that sexy smirk on his face, making your stomach flip and clit pulse. God, he’s so hot when he’s doing absolutely nothing, dressed in black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, dressing comfortably for the long day in the studio. You could kiss him, right now. 
No, scratch that, you could fuck him right now. You would if there weren’t six other people looking at you. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper, winking up at him. 
He kisses you quickly, leaving you wanting more as he pulls away. “Ready for the next one?” 
… 
You’ve been here for 8 hours. 
Between adding little snippets of your voice, the band recording the rest of their songs, adding background vocals and putting in instruments, it takes a while. And you are tired. So tired in fact that during their last two songs, you fell asleep on the little couch in the studio. 
You know this because you’re woken up by a soft voice and a hand brushing your hair out of your face. 
“Sweet angel? Hey, baby.” You know it’s Eddie's voice based on the softness and sweetness he reserves only for you. 
You stretch, groaning just a little as your joints crack, “m’sorry for falling asleep. Didn’t mean to.” Your voice sounds small and a little crocky with sleep. You cover your mouth as a small yawn slips out, “s’cuse me. I’m sorry.” 
He laughs, kissing your free hand, “don’t apologize. We had a long night and early morning. Could’ve gone back to my place and slept?”
You shake your head, “mm-mm. Gotta be supportive. It sounds great and your fans will love it.” 
His grins widens, lips meeting your knuckles. He looks tired too and you sort of regret keeping him up most of the night. Well, actually, it was a mutual thing. You’d tried getting him to go to bed but he just ‘couldn’t get enough’ and then when you tried again, while he was still inside you and growing soft, but the second he shifted, you were pushing him on his back and riding him. See, mutual. 
“I’m glad you think it’s great, sweet girl. But you won’t upset me if you go home.” 
Home. The word clangs through you and makes your head spin. It shouldn’t because he definitely didn’t mean anything behind it. It was his home so of course he’s called it just ‘home’ and you are for sure overthinking it. 
You shake your head, both to clear it and to answer him, “no. I can wait. How much longer?” 
“Like another fifteen minutes? I just need to listen to that last take and the boys need to add some background stuff. Then we can go.” His thumb is rubbing along your knuckles, his touch soft even if his hands are calloused. 
“I’ll wait.” 
And you do, this time staying awake. You post some instagram stories, making extra sure to mute it so you don’t spill a single note. Everyone loves the little insights to your time with Eddie, his fans enjoying seeing a different side to him. Of course, your parents still aren’t happy. 
You haven’t spoken to them since that phone call. You don’t need their opinions and Eddie has yet to be a bad person when it came to you. 
In fact, he’s good at planning dates and making sure no one follows. Blocking the paparazzi from getting unflattering photos of you. Sending you with security if needed. He cares. He cares more than anyone else ever has. 
It feels nice to date someone who doesn’t see you as a ticket to their fifteen minutes of fame. Who didn’t look at you as a way to further their own career. Sure, Eddie was more famous than you were, something the press loves to point out. But in some way you were on the same level. It was more than refreshing. 
“Ready?” 
You look up at his brown eyes and nod, letting him take your hand to help you up, your coat already in his hands. 
Once you both are ready to brave the slightly chilly weather, he takes your hand and leads you out. “There’s going to be people out here okay? Just so you're prepared.” 
You grin, looking over at him, “I am prepared, Eddie. I know the cost of dat- um, being seen with you.” 
If he catches your almost slip up, he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks, squeezing your hand as he opens the doors to the outside. Cameras flash and people scream, you’re practically blinded by the flashing bulbs. It doesn’t last long though, Eddie helping you into the car before getting in himself and closing the door, the sounds of screams muffled slightly.
“God, I love them but the screaming kills my ears,” he presses his finger to his ear, blocking it slightly before releasing it. 
You giggle, raising a brow, “aren’t you used to it? You hardly wear your ears on stage.” 
It was true. Eddie had this habit of taking out the ears he wears on stage, usually used to help keep beat as most artists can’t hear the music coming from the speakers. 
He shrugs, “ya aren’t wrong but I feel like I’m far enough away that the sound doesn’t hurt that bad? I really should keep my ears in so I don’t like lose my hearin’ before I’m 32.”
“Should hear it from the crowd,” you tilt your head slightly. “I had to get little ear plugs after the first time I saw you guys live. My ears rang for a few days after and I was yelling cause I couldn’t hear.” 
His eyes get wide, “that sounds awful. I should get ya some custom ears so you can hear what we’re doing on stage.” 
That makes your heart flutter a little, the fact that he wants you to hear all they do. “I don’t think I could deal with the metronome ticking.” He looks at you, “how do you know that happens?” 
You playfully roll your eyes, scrolling through your phone till you find a post you liked a little bit ago. “This. It’s a video of what Taylor Swift’s sound like inside. It was very interesting.” 
He watches it, three times actually. And then he giggles and scrolls, some familiar music starts to play and you already know what he’s looking at. Your face flames as you move to take your phone back. Unfortunately, he’s faster, moving so you can’t grab it from where you sit. 
He scrolls again, “you like these edits of me?” His tone is teasing and you feel like you’re going to die. He was never supposed to know you like thrist traps of him, most of them to his own songs. 
“E-Eddie give it back,” you plead with him. 
But he shakes his head, scrolling again and again and again. “These edits are actually really good. M’impressed. I also think it’s cute you like them.”  
You finally reach your phone, tugging it from his hands, “it’s rude to go through someone's phone, Eddie.” 
He fake pouts, “awww, are you embarrassed baby?” 
You don’t say anything as he coos at you because you are embarrassed that he saw those. But fuck, he looked so fucking hot in those edits. They make you feel things deep inside you, things you’ve used your vibrator to take care of. 
He leans forward, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I think it’s kind of hot you have those liked.” 
He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, soft kiss. That feeling comes back, the one with a voice that questions why he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. It’s been some time and you spend a lot of it together. You don’t want to push him, to make him look at you as needy or too much or annoying. That’s the last thing you want. You’ve heard it enough, from boyfriends, from your parents, from the people in your comment section. And the last thing you wanted was to hear it from Eddie. 
He breaks the kiss, his eyes scanning your face. Fuck he knows. 
“Are you okay?” He asks you with worry in his eyes. It kind of makes your chest hurt to worry him. 
“Oh yeah! I’m fine. Just… tired.” 
But, of course, he sees right through it, “no. You’re in your head. Come on… spill it.” 
You can’t. You want to express to him how you feel, to ask him to not waste your time. If he isn’t interested in you then you need him to tell you that so you can move on. But you know he is interested, you just sat and recorded bits for their album for fucks sake! He calls you sweet names and listens to what you have to say. He fucks you in a way you’ve never been before. He’s in tune to you and your needs, so the idea he doesn’t want you is absurd. 
But… “nothing. I just have that photo shoot coming up and I’m just nervous. It could make or break my career.” 
Half truth. You were nervous about the campaign. It could make or break your career if you didn’t do a good job or if people didn’t like it. 
He looks like he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push you further. You wish he would. 
… 
Eddie’s lips kiss along your chest, nipping a sucking sweet marks into the skin there. Marking you. Owning you. His hand moving up to tease your breast while his mouth sucks on the neglected one. 
His phone is set up beside you, the little red dot indicating he’s recording. It definitely catches the gasp you make as he works your chest, but he just feels so good you don’t think about it. 
He asked you six times before hitting record if you were okay with this, him voice recording. And you were, truly. He wanted your moans for his music but wanted some variety in there. So, he’s recording the entire round of sex. You’d be a dirty little liar if you said it didn’t turn you on. The idea that he’ll have this on his phone and in his music. Your moans immortalized on tape? It was hot as fuck. 
Eddie swaps sides, eyes meeting yours as he licks and sucks and bites. It hits you right at your center. He was hot as fuck, actually. Looking slightly feral as he kisses down your body. You can’t take your eyes off of his when he settles between your legs, putting them over his shoulders to give him more room. 
 “God you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he runs a finger through your slick, making you moan. “So pretty. Was so hot watchin’ you today.” 
“But I-” he licks up your slit, cutting you off what you were about to say. 
He sucks on your clit, making your back arch. It was insane to you how well he knew your body. He’s learned every dip, every curve of your skin. He’s learned exactly how to drag deep moans from you with his mouth, tongue and cock. Memorized them. He did it quickly too. 
“B-but I didn’t really do anything.” He slips two fingers inside you, stretching you out. “God! Fuck that feels good.” 
He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and curls his fingers. Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, turning your brain off with every thrust of his fingers.
“J-just like that, baby! Oh god, don’t stop.” You can feel the orgasm building deep in your belly, your whole body growing hot as you squeeze his fingers. “M-more. Eddie, I need more.” 
He adds a finger, the burn from the stretch feeling incredible. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just a babbling mess. This was typical when it came to the way Eddie worked your body. He’s the only one who’s worked you like this. 
Your orgasm hits you, mouth dropping open as your back arches on the bed, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!” 
You ride it out with Eddie’s help, his fingers slowing and his mouth coming off your clit with a soft pop. And when he finally removes his fingers, sucking them between his lips and moaning, you feel empty. You need him to fuck you, to feel him inside you. 
“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just can’t get enough,” his voice drops a few octaves and you swear your heart stutters for a moment. 
“Please…” you whine. 
It hits you then that he is fully clothed and you are as naked as the day you were born. The dynamic is hotter than it should be, you might need to talk to your therapist about that. Or not. That’s an issue for another day. 
He pulls off his shirt, stomach flexing with the movement, “please what, angel?” 
His hands pull at his belt, tugging it through the loops before meeting the same fate as his shirt on the floor. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth and you forget the English language for a moment. He pops the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down as he waits for your answer. 
You manage to find it, “please fuck me. I-I need it.” 
He slides his jeans and boxers down his legs, his hard cock bobbing free. You squirm, licking your lips while your eyes rake over him. You need him, need him in many more ways than just sexually. You need him as yours, need him to love you. You can see the life you’d have if he called you his. Your babies would be beautiful thats for fucking sure. 
You don’t really have time to think further on it because Eddie slides inside you, his lips meeting yours and swallowing your moans. He tastes like you, cigarettes and weed. An odd mix but you love it anyway. 
“Shit, pretty girl. This pussy feels amazing. S’like you were fuckin’ made for me.” 
Your heart pounds and you know he can feel it, you can feel his. “I-I was. I was m-made for you, Eddie. Made for you” You kind of don’t mean for it to come out, but it can easily be brushed off as heat of the moment dirty talk. 
But there is something in the way he’s fucking you right now, something different. It’s slower than it has been, sweeter. Like he wants to take his time here, like he wants to feel every inch of you. His eyes shine with lust and something else, something he blinks away before you can decipher it. You have a feeling you already know what it is, because you feel the same way. 
“Yeah? You think so?” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Think we were supposed to end up here?” 
You’re going to die if he keeps talking like this. He’s actually going to kill you. More so because you do believe in the invisible string theory. Everyone can say you’re going too fast, but you think your string is attached to him. Everything about him screams it in confirmation.
“Y-yes. I do.” 
He kisses you soft and sweet, adjusting slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to his cheeks to hold him there while you kiss him. Again, it’s all slow and sweet and filled with emotion. 
“Glad we’re on the same page, baby.” 
He fucks you just a little faster, hitting all your sweet spots and making the coil in your belly twist tighter. “I- oh my god, Eddie.” 
He laughs, not straying from your lips, “I love when you pray to me.” 
Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a deep moan falling from your lips as your velvet walls squeeze him. It makes your head spin and you kind of feel like you’re going to pass out from how good it feels. You don’t, of course. 
“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl coming for me. My pretty angel.” 
“Y-yours.” 
He nods, “mine.” 
Mine
Mine
Mine
Mine 
The word cycles through your head over and over, making you clench harder around him.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck fuck FUCK!” 
He spills inside you as he moans your name. It’s angelic when he does it and you’re gonna make him send the recording to you immediately so you can hear it again and again. He collapses on you, being careful to not crush you with his weight. 
“I s-swear on my life, you’re the best I’ve ever had.” 
You giggle, shaking your head, “i bet you say that to every girl you fuck.” 
He lifts his head, his face serious, “no. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever said that to.” 
You just stare at him, not knowing what to say.
“Did you mean what you said? About us being made for each other?” He asks it quietly, like he’s afraid of anyone hearing him. Anyone but you. 
You swallow the lump in your throat. You can do this, tell him how you feel. Right? “I-I did. We fit together so well. Don't ya think?” 
Now it’s his turn to swallow, “I do… I meant it too.” 
You aren’t sure where this is going, but you hope to whoever the fuck is listening that it’ll go your way. 
“You did? You haven’t known me that long.” 
He shrugs, “so? You spend every night here, or me at your place. You get to know someone pretty quickly that way.” He laughs a little, pushing some of your hair out of your face.
Ask me 
Ask me 
Ask me
“I would agree,” you say as you run your fingertips up his arm.
“Would you agree to stay forever if I asked you to?” 
You hold your breath and nod. He gives you a look that makes you squeak out a small “yes.” 
A huge grin breaks out across his face, bright white teeth showing, “then stay. With me and be mine. And I’ll be yours. No more wandering around lookin’ for each other.” 
You blink away the burn behind your eyes, you cannot cry at someone asking you to date them, “n-no more wandering.”
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onceuponastory · 1 year
Text
one single word - bucky barnes x reader
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Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.
“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.
“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.
“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in. 
None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.
Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.
Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support. 
“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”
“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”
“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”
“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”
“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”
“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.
“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”
“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.” 
And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.
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A few months later,
Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was. 
When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee. 
“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!
That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.
The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her. 
And then he speaks.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.
“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder. 
“What did you just say?”
“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.
“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”
“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.
“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.” 
"Y/N." Bucky smiles.“I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles. 
“Already forgotten about.”
“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.” 
“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.
It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.
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caorann8 · 2 months
Text
Grief in Dawntrail
Alrighty, here are my thoughts as a funeral director having finished Dawntrail. Obviously spoilers under the cut.
When someone says a game feels like work, that’s normally a bad thing. In this case it’s not. Two of Dawntrail’s themes are community/their different cultures and grief and while they’re explored more separately in the two halves of the story they are intrinsically linked. Funerals at their core are about remembering the person who’s died and coming together to support each other and remember the person. Even with the decline of “traditional” funerals, people who are just having a cremation and nothing else from the funeral home often say they’ll have something at home with their friends and family.
This is why Sphene pissed me off from the start. With the Yok Huy we see a beautiful funeral tradition. The body may return to the mountains but their legacy will always remain for their community to read and remember over and over again, even for future generations. Meanwhile Sphene echo’s the same message, “You will never die so long as you’re remembered” but then removes the memories as a misguided attempt to protect her people. They aren’t remembered, they’re actively forgotten by their entire community until those people die too.
Death and grief are complicated things. Something we learn in school is there are no stages as most people think. It’s a roller coaster that goes forward and back, has good days and bad days, and will sometimes crop up years later. What lessens it is allowing yourself to process it, and support from friends/family/community helps immensely. By denying them these memories, Sphene denies them growth and stronger bonds. A friend of mine said the people of Alexandria wouldn’t survive the Final Days and I agree. We even see this in the WoL! How many times are we able to quote Haurchefant or other characters who have died but made an impact on our journey? Even Emet-Selch asks us to remember them. The ancient’s love, their follies, the good and bad. While grief hurts in so many different ways, we often come out on the other side better, whether that be with new tools, new outlooks, or even just relief that the person isn’t suffering.
And this doesn’t just apply to people we care for. Look at the death of Zoraal Ja. Wuk Lamat hated him and he’d abandoned Gulool Ja. Regret or joy that it’s over are valid feelings . Both grieved in their own ways and had support to work through it. The fact that they were actively told to take a break to process everything, both after his death and after the attack on Tullioyal, was a beautiful touch. Grief is exhausting after all.
Finally, I want to talk about my experience going through Living Memory. That’s the part that truly felt like my work. Just sitting and listening to people say their final goodbyes to their loved ones. Some crying, some laughing at good memories, some angry, but all taking that moment. I didn’t cry really (except Cahcuia, that one got me), I got choked up and there was a heaviness for a lot of it, but there’s a joy in knowing nothing’s left unsaid. Even deleting the areas didn’t affect me much. They each got their last hurrah, like a eulogy at a service or stories shared over a meal. Plus the knowledge that reincarnation exists in FFXIV means they’ll be able to enjoy life again.
At the end of the day grief, in all its forms from the end of relationships, to what could’ve been, to death of a loved one, shouldn’t be swept under a rug. When people find out I’m a funeral director I often get asked if it’s “depressing with all the crying” and I always reply that I hear laughter coming from visitation rooms more often than tears.
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nateezfics · 10 months
Note
98 + 127 with Hongjoong
98 — “but you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “i…that’s not true.” 
127 — “i don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
smut/nsfw; mentions of infidelity; friends w/ benefits; marking; mdni
“but you think about me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?”
stunned silence. “i…” you paused and breathed, “that’s not true.” it was a lame attempt at a lie, you knew that. so did he. you turned to walk away from him, frustrated. this wasn’t something you wanted to talk about anymore, especially not with him. this only made you feel things you’d tried to burry long ago. his presence and his scent all around you was certainly not helping. him coming over was the worst idea; you were dumb to think that things could ever go back to normal between you.
his hand was in the crook of your elbow, stopping you. you made the mistake of turning to return his gaze. “you’re a bad liar,” hongjoong pointed out, eyes sharp. his hand remained at your arm. “i’ve known you for years, y/n. i can see through your bullshit. just admit it. every time he fucks you, you wish it was me.”
“what do you want me to say, hongjoong? hm? you want me to say yes? to say that he could never fuck me like you can, make me feel as good as you can? that every time he fails to make me cum i touch myself afterwards while thinking of you?” there was a sharp edge to your voice, but his eyes grew dark with every word you spoke. you laughed humorlessly. “it’s fucking true, alright? but at least with him there’s a future. at least he actually wants to be with me. at least with him i can have an actual relationship and not some fucked up friendship with benefits.”
you made a move closer to him, your chest rising and falling as your breathing quickened from the rush of emotions. he maintained your gaze, his eyes just as fierce as yours.
“which is more than you could ever give me. i wanted more, hongjoong. i wanted to be more than your friend, but you didn’t want any of that. so don’t come here with this shit, hongjoong. don’t act like you want me.”
“but i do want you,” he countered, grip on your arm tightening. he closed the distance between you, his chest against yours and your breaths mingling. “i was dumb and didn’t want to admit what i felt for you. then you were with him, and it pained me so much to see you with another man, and suddenly i knew all i ever fucking wanted was you.”
you were stunned, and he used your silence as an opportunity to keep speaking.
hongjoong’s face was incredibly close to yours, so close his nose grazed against your own. his expression was completely serious, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “i don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
everything after that was a whirlwind of messy kisses, groans, falling clothes, and desperate touches. so much happened in a small space of time, the two of you urgent to feel each other. now you were on your back on your bed, your legs draped over his shoulders while his cock drove in and out of you. the bed shook with the force of his thrusts, but you didn’t care about the state of your bed, all you cared about was him and the way he was making you feel.
hongjoong’s teeth pressed into the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind yet another little violet mark on your skin. he held his head up to appreciate his artwork. he smirked at the sight of you, fucked out and covered in his teeth marks. “you look so fucking beautiful like this,” he whispered, voice breathless from exertion while he fucked you. “and do you know what you look like?”
you swallowed hard, body shivering with pleasure. you whined when his cock met with that sweet spot inside you, and you almost forgot he was even speaking to you. your nails dug into his back, leaving your own kind of marks on him. “w-what?”
hongjoong took your lips with his. “mine.”
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mggsv · 8 months
Text
THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CHOSO ! ✭ <idol!choso>
f! poc!black reader x Choso (18+)
summary : they say never meet your idols..well, some people just talk out of their ass don’t they?
'Cause when the stars align
You might bring the beast out
One look and your're mine
Keep your eyes on me.
“God they’re amazing in person.” You let out a breath. Sitting front row at your favorite group’s concert was truly a dream come true. They were called ‘GROUP XO’, consisting of three members: Suguru Geto, Gojo Satoru, and Choso Kamo. You’ve loved the group ever since they debuted. You’ve had countless merch others couldn’t find anywhere else. Thank the stars your parents loved you enough to buy them at the time.
What particularly caught your interest was the main lead of the group, Choso Kamo. They all had their moments and shine, yes. You’re a girl, you’ve liked all of them at some point. With your signed cd’s of Geto’s name written across them, your signed Vinyls with Gojo’s and a little personal note ending with a heart (that was a bit more expensive then you’d like to admit), and your rare photo cards of Choso that only came with first edition purchases of their latest EP. The thought made your heart warm. Back to Choso however.
He wasn’t a womanizer, no, but he did date a few women in his career time. All of them like you, beautiful brown women of color. It wasn’t often seeing someone like that especially in groups like his. And it also meant you had a chance. You’ve been plotting to meet the man since they debuted. Discovering the group your junior year of college.
And now, there you were. Hard work paying off, sitting front row as Choso’s ringed fingers held the microphone. He rocked to the beat, eyes shut as he sang one of your favorite songs. You moved accordingly to it as you have done just the night before in your kitchen. You admired him so much more now that you could possibly touch him. How his hair looked more softer than it did in person. How he wore it to the back with hairs falling over his face..His scar across his nose. The way his eyes peeled open and landed on you.
“He’s looking at me!” you heard someone scream next to you. But no..they were definitely on you. He smirks and walks closer to the edge of the stage.
I'll take you down, down can you keep it up all night
Up all night, up all night?
Want you run run run baby give me what I like
He’s in front of you, doing the respected choreography. “Oh my fucking god.” You whisper.
“You here for me?” He asks. Bodies. Hands pulling at him and he’s talking to you. It was common. Gojo did it their last concert, and Geto the one before. But as they sang backup, the spotlight was on you being lucky tonight. “..yes.”
“Aren’t I a lucky man tonight. Huh folks?” the crowd goes wild. You loved that they interacted with their fans this.. close. Your brown eyes stare up at his darker ones. He smiles at you, and reality hit. “Oh my god,” you whisper again, earning a chuckle from him as he pulled out a vip pass from his pocket. “Will I see you later?” No. Hell no.
“Yes..y-yes-oh!” You mewl around his hand covering your mouth, free of rings. Choso’s other hand held the arm of the couch, shielding your body from the world. His cock slams angrily into your juicy cunt, your ass connecting with his happy trail. “Fuck..fuck you feel so good.” He shudders, flicking his lip piercing. The sound of your moans and the sounds of your skin slapping together sent him over the edge.
His favorite position with his new favorite girl. Everyone knew after all that Choso didn’t choose a fan often. He knew he’d keep you in his corner. Someone so beautiful he couldn’t help it, picking you so early in the show. Even Gojo was shocked, he’s done it plenty of times, early on in the show, but never Choso. Choso who saw you as soon as he came on stage. Choso who noticed you were alone, but having so much fun. Choso who laid eyes on your plump brown lips and it went on from there.
It was worth it, so..so worth it. Everything underneath that outfit was just as amazing. Your curves, your beauty marks, the beautiful stretch marks. He was in heaven. That’s what he called you as soon as he gave you that pass, Heaven.
Moaning softly, he pulls out, throbbing red cock leaking over your hole. He takes his hand away from your mouth, placing it on your hip- god your hips don’t get him started. Choso loved himself a thick girl. The way your ass bounced with every thrust.. “Taking me so well, I like that.” He leans down to kiss your shoulder. His hair fanned around your neck as he slipped back into your heat. Made for him. He fit perfectly inside of you.
“You feel so good…” A mess he was, but so were you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’m gonna cum. Can I cum inside of you? Hm..?” His thrusts slowly down, but get harder. Sloppily he fucked your already fucked out cunt. You didn’t miss the way his slipped out and back in, how wet he made you just from that. How his big cock touched that spot deep inside of you. How could you say no?
“Yes! Yes Choso- please.”
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so-much-for-stardust6 · 5 months
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Bathroom Rendezvous- Damon Albarn
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summary: your friends drag you out to a club and a certain brit caught your eyes.
lowercase intended
warnings: smut
a/n: was kinda inspired by the song ‘bathroom’ by montell fish :)
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the stench of sweat and alcohol hit me as soon as i walked inside the club. my friends forced me out of my apartment to ‘get out there’. they dragged me towards the bar, wasting no time to get drunk. i hesitantly did shots with them, not really in the mood to get black out drunk. i was tipsy when they decided to move onto the dance floor. i stuck with one of my friends as the other ones went to find someone to dance with. we danced crazily to whatever song was playing, laughing at our antics. the second i closed my eyes, she got dragged away by some guy. once i opened them, i was alone on the dance floor. i stopped dancing as a small frown appeared on my face. i took that as my cue to go sit down and wait until they’re ready to leave. i plopped down into a empty booth, dropping my head down onto the table.
“y/n! why are you sitting down? come dance!” one of my friends shouted at me.
i looked up to see a girl glued to her side, sweaty from the dancing they did.
“i don’t know, i think i’m good here.”
“party pooper!” the random girl called out.
i furrowed my eyebrows at her, a tiny bit of hatred flowing through my veins.
my friend just laughed at her statement and led them away. i just watched them with a look on my face that quickly disappeared once my eyes landed on someone. his gorgeous face was highlighted by the lights, his blond hair shining bright. he quite literally took my breath away since i breathed in a shuddered breath.
he must’ve felt someone staring at him cause he began scanning the club, eyes landing on mine. he flashed the greatest smile i’ve ever seen at me. i softly began to smile but immediately realized i’ve been caught staring. i averted my eyes and stared at my fingers instead. part of me hoped he wouldn’t come over but the other wanted him to. i looked back up to where he was and saw he was gone. i mentally panicked, scooting out of the booth and booking it towards the bar. i ordered 3 shots, downing them in seconds. the bartender stared at me in shock as the alcohol smoothly went down my throat. i slapped money on the counter and thanked the woman before heading to the dance floor.
i shoved my way past the sweaty bodies to reach the middle of the floor. my body just began moving on its own, dancing along to the song. i was too focused on myself that i didn’t feel a certain someone’s eyes on me. after the blond man noticed i was staring at him, he already knew he wanted to meet me. he thought it was a perfect time to go once i broke eye contact, but when i noticed he wasn’t in his original spot i left. he followed me to the bar, getting stuck behind some big guys before reaching the stools. i was already in the middle of the dance floor when he stood there. his beautiful eyes scanned the crowd and as soon as he saw me, he didn’t hesitate to make his way over. he shoved and squeezed through people before finally stopping behind me. he watched as i danced like no one was watching.
i jumped a bit when i felt a hand on my shoulder, i turned my head to make eye contact with the man. my mouth slightly parted, in disbelief that he was in front of me.
“sorry if i scared you!” he shouted over the music.
“don’t worry about it! i’m very jumpy at little things!” i laugh.
his heart fluttered at the sound of my laughter.
“i noticed you staring at me earlier!”
“oh-uh..sorry about that! you’re just really pretty!” i blurted out, face becoming red at my words.
“well, i can say the same about you!” he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
i nervously bit my lip, face incredibly red.
“wanna dance?” he asked, extended his hand out.
i only nodded before taking his hand. he began leading the dance, getting lost in the music. i smiled at his moves before i began dancing.
the alcohol began taking over so i took a leap of faith and turned around to grind on him. i immediately felt his hands grip my hips, somewhat guiding me. i threw my head back to rest on his shoulder, leaving an open opportunity for him to kiss my neck. the feeling of his soft lips against my skin was enough to make me lightly moan. i would’ve been embarrassed but i heard him moan back. my stomach erupted into flames, my body craving this random man.
“fuck…i know we just met but let’s take this to the bathroom, hm?” his hot breath fanned over my ear.
i couldn’t muster up the strength to speak so i nodded. he quickly took my hand in his and led us to the bathrooms. luckily no one was near as we snuck into the women’s bathroom, going into the farthest stall from the door. the bright lights shined into his face, exposing more of his beautiful features that i wouldn’t have noticed out in the dark club.
“wait, i’m sorry but i never introduced myself.” he chuckled nervously.
“i’m damon.” he stuck out his hand.
“y/n.” i shook his rough yet soft hand.
“such a pretty name for a pretty girl.” he bit his lip, moving closer to me.
his bright colored eyes stared into mine before he finally connected our lips. they were softer than i’d imagine, moving perfectly in time with mine. my hand snaked to the back of his neck to push him deeper into the kiss. he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me closer to him.
he pushed me against the wall, one of his hands moving to grab my thighs. he guided my leg up and i took it as a sign to wrap it around his waist. i felt his fingers tickle my skin as they hike under my dress, towards the one spot i’m craving him at. he doesn’t tease me and goes straight to the point, dipping his hand into my underwear. i moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his cold fingertips.
“so wet for me, baby. jump.” he mumbled onto my mouth.
i obeyed and jumped as he caught the back of my thighs to wrap my legs around his waist.
“damon…please..” i normally don’t beg this early but having the most attractive man ever making out with me like this excuses the behavior.
he wastes no time to unbutton his pants, struggling to shimmy them down his legs with one hand.
“your top..take it off..” he moans out.
i reach to slide the straps of my dress down my arms, struggling to unzip the zipper. damon saw me struggle so he decided to help, reaching one hand to unzip me. in a blink of an eye, the top to my dress falls and pools around my waist. i swore i heard him inhale sharply while staring at my bare chest. he uses his free hand to squeeze a boob, making me hum out in approval. he massages it, even going to pinch the nipple and tug it. he leaned down to kiss my neck, his kisses sloppy and he focuses on my boobs. he switches back and forth with his free hand, giving both boobs attention.
i rest my head against the wall, softly moaning out as he marks my neck. he trails his lips farther down my neck and chest until he got ahold of my boob. i let out an embarrassing loud moan as he sucked, nipping it lightly with his teeth. i heard him unbuckle his belt, feeling him shimmy as he tries to pull his pants and boxers down enough. i instantly felt his hard on against my thigh, his pre cum spreading on my skin. his long fingers toyed with my soaked underwear, teasing as he rubs me through the fabric. i tug on his hair and moan quietly, signaling him to stop the teasing. he smirks against my boob, pulling away to catch some breaths. he had the goofiest (not in a bad way) smile on his face while his chin was covered in his own saliva.
“you’re so cute.” i giggle, leaning to him to press a quick kiss to his plump lips.
i swore i saw him blush a little before he dropped his head to hide his smile. the cute moment was cut short when a loud bang echoed the bathroom, followed by loud laughter. my eyes widen in fear, hoping none of them came to the back stall.
“be a good girl and stay quiet for me, okay?” he whispered.
i had no time to react before i felt him slowly insert himself inside me. i didn’t even notice him move my underwear out the way either. i quietly gasp out, the feeling of him stretching me out made me tremble. he looks up at me through his eye lashes, watching my face as he slowly starts to thrust.
i bit my lip as i try to contain my moans. he starts to speed up his thrusts as his blond hair falls onto his face, bouncing with every hit. i mutter a soft ‘fuck’ as i threw my head back. i definitely hit my head a bit but i didn’t care as i was too immersed in the pleasure. he placed sloppy kisses onto my jawline, marking my neck area even more than it needs to be. i closed my eyes and it felt like my brain shut off for a moment as i let out a quiet moan. my eyes shot open before slapping a hand onto my mouth.
“what’d i say? is it too good that you can’t keep shut?” he whispered against my skin.
he snaked his hand up to mouth and left it there, letting my hand go back to his shoulder.
he left a strong grip on my face to keep me quiet, becoming more confident in thrusting harder and faster. i don’t know how but the girls who entered didn’t acknowledge the echoed sound of skin slapping. i didn’t care about keeping my moans as i let them all out against damon’s hand. i heard some slip past his lips too, causing me to clench around him.
“oh fuck, do that again, baby.” he groaned.
i obeyed and clenched again, watching as he throws his head back. i remove his hand from my mouth and take my turn to go and mark his neck, biting and sucking all over.
“you’re so fucking beautiful…” he slightly whimpered.
i physically felt my knees go weak and my head get fuzzy. that emerged this deep feeling in my stomach, signaling me that i’m close to cumming. i pull away from his neck and bring our lips together.
“shit dames, do that again..” i beg.
“do what?”
“whimper…”
i felt his hips stutter once i said that word. for a second i thought he wasn’t going to do it but he quietly began whimpering against my lips. i furrow my eyebrows and moan out as i listen to the sounds emerging from him. i once again go for his hair and tangle my fingers all up in it, tugging at it slightly to earn more noises.
“i think i’m gonna cum..” i softly cry out.
his hips sped up once he registered my sentence, hand even going to my clit to approach my release even quicker.
i let out a string of curse words as i feel like my release coming hard. with one more last semi-quiet moan of damon’s name, i came all over his dick. the sound of his name slipping past my lips and the feeling of me cumming sent him over the edge. he moaned out against my lips, hips coming to an abrupt halt. his cum spurted all inside me, filling me up nicely. we stood there for a minute catching our breaths, waiting for our heart rates to lower. we were absolute messes, covered in a coat of slick sweat, lips swollen from kissing, necks all purple and red, hair frizzled. he eventually slowly pulled out, the feeling of his cum dripping down my thighs make me bite my lip. he awkwardly bent down to grab some toilet paper to clean us up, tossing it in the toilet before flushing.
“do you think you’re okay to stand?”
“i should be.” i chuckle, overconfident in myself.
i unwrapped my legs from his waist before he slowly set me down onto my feet. i stood there for a few seconds before my legs became jelly and i nearly fell to the ground. he quickly caught me in his arms, helping me onto the toilet seat.
“maybe not.” he chuckled.
i slid my dress back on, damon helping with the zipper.
“do you think those girls are gone?” i whisper.
“uh, i’m not sure. i didn’t hear anyone leaving.” he tried to peek through the cracks.
“i’ll go out there and signal you if they’re gone.” he nodded at me.
i manage to get up, wobbly making my way out the stall. to my first judgement, it seems like the bathroom was completely empty but i had to double check. i bent down to see if anyone was hiding in the stalls but they were all vacant. no one stood by the sinks or mirrors either, which definitely surprised me.
“we’re all good.” i call out.
he swiftly emerges from the stall, the sweaty glow illuminating off his skin. we quickly made ourselves presentable, washing off our faces and smoothing out our hairs. and for our hickies, we just prayed the club was too dark to notice anything. i left the bathroom first to make sure no one was near. when i saw it was clear enough for damon to sneak out, i knocked three times. he quickly slipped out the bathroom, clearing his throat and smoothing out his shirt to act like nothing happened.
“so uh, what now?” i ask, knowing that this’ll end by splitting ways and never seeing each other again.
“we either continue to dance or we go a get some food. what sounds good to you?” he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. i smile at his response and action, a tiny part of me starting to fall for him.
“hmm, i am pretty hungry for some burgers and fries.”
“burgers and fries it is then.”
we began heading towards the exit, shoving our way past people. i searched around the club in hopes of seeing my friends so i can at least tell one of them that i’ll be leaving.
“damon! dude, we were looking for you!” a guy stepped in front of us.
“oh sorry, man. i’m-uh..i’m gonna leave alright?”
“leave where? who’s this?” the man asked.
“for some food. and this is y/n. y/n this is alex, my best friend.”
“well acquainted already i see.” he points to our necks.
i blush madly, realizing that in fact the club was not dark enough.
“ha ha, now fuck off man. i’ll see you tomorrow.” he jokingly rolls his eyes at him.
he leads us our the door, the chilly air hitting my skin. i instantly start to shiver a bit, craving the warmth of anything. damon pulls me closer to him once he realizes that i’m freezing.
“y/n?!” i hear a familiar voice call out.
i turn around to see one of my other friends about to walk in the club with a man to her side.
“hey! i was looking for you guys. i wanted to let you know i’m leaving.”
she eyes damon, probably making sure he isn’t a bit off. a small smile appears on her lips as she turns back to me, assuming she thinks he’s safe.
“alrighty then, i’ll tell the others.”
“thank you so much. love you, bye.” i kiss her cheek.
she began her walk back inside but turned her head to shout at us.
“don’t forget to use protection kids!”
we both laugh at her words, knowing damn well we didn’t use any earlier. we finally find damon’s car, quick to get inside and escape the cold air. he starts up his car and lets it warm up before driving off towards our burger date. one of our many burger dates.
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nynyhaha · 3 months
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Machi and Shizuku — How to treat human remains
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Both of the beautiful Spider members cause death with their abilities,increasing the number of corpses.But what do they do with them afterwards?
Despite being in the same organisation and doing crimes together their approach to corpses is very different.
I’d even call them polar opposites.
Machi is known for killing and healing people with her threads,but what matters here is her skill on restoring dead people to look better.
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It’s made clear that she came to master nen Threads in that exact context.Kinda tragic,actually. We don’t see her trying to restore anyone to their original beauty so it’s unknown to what extent she knows Renkos craft,but since she wanted to learn it we can assume she knows quite a lot about it.
A personal headcanon of mine is that she took it upon herself to arrange the flowers for Paku’s “grave”
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Look how sad it is :((
Meanwhile Shizuku,well…cleans up.
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Being sucked into a vacuum like dust just to disappear in its void seems like a bad way for your body to end.I mean,what is a corpse really worth?
Is it not a puppet?🖊📖🕷
But if corpses were just puppets there wouldn’t be people like Machi and Renko.
If Machi had no emotions towards Hisokas corpse she’d just dispose of it or call Shizuku.But she fixed it up.
Because people care about the dead,their bodies and their wishes.
Treating corpses as humans allows one to spend a bit more time with them,to keep them alive a bit longer in their mind.
The importance of human remains being buried properly is also why Kurapika is so relentlessly searching for the eyes of his kin.
It’s why we can judge Chrollo’s moral state by his treatment of corpses and see that there’s clearly something seriously wrong with the way he sees people.Which isn’t just a Chrollo issue(Check out my Neon Nostrade post)but a broader problem in the HxH world.
Machi and Chrollo started out in the same place.
Horrified at how their friend has been dehumanised along with other kids of Meteor City,they vowed to take revenge and reverse this trend.Now they themselves kill people without batting an eye.
What started out as “we are humans so see us as such,even in death we have dignity”
turned into “human corpses are just like puppets and we can use them in any way that fits us.”
Surely,Pakunodas body and even Hisokas are very different than those of dead mafia men.That’s just how it is with close people.
So..what is it? a) human remains are to be respected
b)corpses are just empty shells,they’re inanimate objects so they don’t matter
c)corpses might have meaning and personhood attached to them but we will only honour that with those we care about/those who deserve it
It must be a mix of b and c by now.Hypocrisy is a big theme of HxH.But in the general view of the Spiders, Machi included,human lives rarely matter and their dead remains are even less important.
Young Machi might’ve been horrified by Shizukus ability,I mean,imagine Sarasa’s kidnappers “cleaning up” her body in such a manner.
But now Shizuku and Blinky are very useful to the troupe and everyone appreciates them.
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Shizuku is a troupe member that’s rather unsettling to me because of her innocence and young age(19).She’s calm and we don’t see cruelty or bloodthirst in her.Even out of the women in the troupe she seems the least threatening.Yet her ability is very bleak and shows acceptance and indifference when it comes to horrible things.
She takes Chrollo’s orders seriously even if that means letting him die.She’s one of the people that appear normal and could live a normal life. Or so it seems.We know nothing about her past but she must’ve had a reason to join the troupe.She no less passionate about it than Machi.
Oh,if only we knew how and why she developed her ability!
I don’t think that would be a happy story tho,haha.She even reminds me of Chrollo a bit,that mix of apathy and pleasant calm demeanour just has something to it.
Machi seems to have a bit more “rage/fire” in her.She’s closer to seeing corpses as people even now.But despite the differences,the Spiders get along.
So it really depends if your corpse will be patched up by Machi or deleted by Shizuku.
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zhongrin · 2 years
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more to love
◇ characters ◇ zhongli
◇ tags ◇ afab!reader, chubby!reader, extremely self indulgent don't like don’t read, asphyxiation
◇ a/n ◇ all bodies are valid. you can be skinny or fit or pudgy or overweight or underweight or anything inbetween - you are beautiful nonetheless. as of writing this, i just…. i needed a self-pick-me-up.
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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your husband absolutely adores the extra softness on your body.
sometimes, he feels a little childish for wanting to pinch your adorable cheeks, so his subconsciousness makes up for it by having his hand mindlessly making biscuits on your tummy or thighs, like some kind of a kitten who’s fascinated by his new and overly comfortable blanket.
he wants you to constantly sit on his lap ("'too heavy'? ….. darling, have you perhaps forgotten the story behind the guyun stone forest? let me recount it for you-") whenever he talks, and when it’s his turn to listen you bet he’ll be tucking his chin on your soft shoulder, sighing comfortably against your neck. his arms tightly snug around you, fingers fondling your belly, sometimes your thighs, and other times your breasts.
your fingers are so adorable to him. he marvels at how he can splay them open against each other and curl the top of his fingers to cradle yours in. he shakes his head when you apologize for its ‘stumpiness’, and he tells you it’s lovely and endearing. a homemaker’s hand, as the olden wives' tales say.
he kisses your knuckles every day and will never tire of trailing his lips on your hand; from the tips of your finger down to your wrist, resting on your pulse point as he silently appreciates the strong beats of your heart. it’s almost a game now, of you guessing which finger he’s going to pick to shower with attention today, but your favorite is whenever he decides to lavish your ring finger with kisses - because his eyes would always stop momentarily at the wedding band with such a warm, lovestruck gaze, which he would then switch to you.
“i’m so lucky to be yours,” he says, and stubbornly insists even as you tell him the sentiment should be yours to have.
your ‘thunder thighs’ and ‘birthing hips’ and whatever term the people these days would use to describe your body? they contain nothing but positive connotations in his book. magnificent, exquisite, gorgeous, seductive, alluring, biteable, bewitching, splendid, eye-catching- honestly, he can go on for days if you ask him. though rex lapis is a former god, rex lapis is also a simple man; it means more canvas to mark and fondle and worship, and he thinks, what man would not want to rejoice being blessed by such a bountiful gift?
he likes the term ‘love handles’ for its literal meaning - how he can hold them as he makes love to you, a special spot he appreciates for existing, and wouldn't trade with anything else. they’re so soft against his body whenever he pulls you close, and the way they spill over the lingerie he bought for you is such a delectable sight.
you might never be able to fathom the mental war happening inside his head.
sometimes his loving side wins and he will treat you like a queen that you are, a higher being than a former deity, with gentle touches and loving affirmations caressing your every sense.
other times you aren't so lucky (or, you are extremely lucky, depending on how you look at it), because when your darling husband succumbs to his baser instincts, there is nothing in the whole teyvat that could stop him from loving your body in a more... disorderly way, than usual.
sweet pet names turn into filthier ones, spoken in the same calming, gentle tone, yet it makes them sound even more demeaning and indecent. his possessiveness shines through the way he latches onto you, caging you in as if wanting to shield you from the world, teeth creating marks all over your body, voice purring ‘my’s and ‘mine’ and goading you to scream his name. his molten amber eyes follow your bouncing breasts, a taunting delicacy he would gladly take into his mouth to suck and mark. his usually tender touches turn into strong fingers curling around your neck, applying just the right pressure on the right spots, making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your breath hitch, your walls gripping him in a vicelike hold. he brings you over the edge again and again, knots you and fills your womb to the brim until you give him a hard stop sign-
-and just like that, like you’ve pressed a button, your gentle zhongli is back, nuzzling onto your full, sore breasts. he places a fleeting kiss onto your neck adorned with purple lovebites, and carries you off into the bathroom to run you a relaxing bath.
zhongli means it when he says he adores every single inch of you - both the entirety of your soul and your body. and when he promises to do so until his last breath, you best believe him, because it is an oath he takes seriously, more than all the other contracts he has made.
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© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303
ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!
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arpmemething2 · 7 months
Text
Batman the Animated Series sentence starters
Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.
"All right, scum bucket, it's you, me, and thirty stories. You're gonna tell me exactly what I want to know."
"That's one way to remove a splinter."
"I have this natural immunity against poisons, toxins, the pain and suffering of others. Go figure."
"I failed you. I wish there were another way for me to say it. I cannot. I can only beg your forgiveness, and pray you hear me somehow, someplace... someplace where a warm hand waits for mine."
"Last time we met, you tried to throw me off a building."
"If you think I've been bad news before..."
"Old and infirm as you are, I'd trade a thousand of my frozen years for your worst day."
"What kind of a saboteur uses a six-thousand dollar Metronex to set a time bomb?"
"I never counted on being happy."
"A strong mind can fuel a frail body."
"I need a new car."
"There's no way you could have escaped from that explosion! How did you get out?"
"I'm gettin' too old for this."
"I suppose what they say is true: society is to blame. High society."
"Succumb to the fear!"
"Gee, it's amazing the things you find in people's glove compartments."
"Children and guns do not mix. Ever."
"I'm having a BAD DAY! I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!"
"They're not stupid, and it's your party."
"Aren't they just the cutest family you've ever seen?"
"It's midnight darling, time to unmask."
"It's gonna be one of those nights."
"When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you."
"If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?"
"You've got to admit there's something between us."
"There's always time to heal."
"I didn't realize you'd taken up listening to rock and roll."
"Choosing a weekend date?"
"I don't believe in fate."
"An entire city screaming in fear. I wonder if we'll be able to hear it."
"Some thought I'd gone mad. Others thought I always had been. And so they put me where they thought I belonged."
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."
"This city would fall apart without you!"
"I love that trick but I can never make it work."
"Taking up video games, are we?"
"I hate it when he does that."
"You are strong... but not strong enough!"
"They don't make straight jackets like they used to. I should know."
"He's not samurai. He's NINJA. They're spies and assassins. Their only code is to get the job done."
"A pixel is worth a thousand words."
"I am vengeance! I am the night!!"
"And who says opera has to be boring?"
"He always knew how to make an exit."
"Hey! Do I hit your kids? Oh, actually I do..."
"Now boys, didn't your mommies teach you that's not the way to get a lady's attention?"
"Not the robot theory again."
"Freeze, maggots! You're all under arrest!"
"You said you'd never let me go home!"
"What was she before she went bonkers?"
"This used to be a beautiful street. Good people lived here once."
"'Tis better to have loved and lost, and made a small profit, than never to have loved at all!"
"Chance is everything. Whether you're born or not, whether you live or die, whether you're good or bad. It's all arbitrary."
"But you've forgotten the first rule of comedy: if you have to explain the joke... THEN IT ISN'T FUNNY!"
"I told you not to speak!"
"Coming through! Hot stuff!"
"The snow is beautiful, don't you think? Clean, uncompromising..."
"When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."
"What a pleasant surprise. Though I should warn you - breaking and entering is against the law."
"This could cause a stampede to pork."
"You really know how to put the fun in funeral."
"You ought to put your toys away."
"Would not, could not... would not, could not... oh, could not join the dance."
"Home. I never thought that could sound so good."
"Then I'll see you in your nightmares!"
"As the Bard said, "the fault lies not in our stars, but in ourselves.""
"You know what I'd have given for a death scene like this. Too bad I won't get to read the notices."
"He's a little protective of all this. I think he likes bats better than people."
"All your power and money has bought you an empire of misery."
"Don't try this at home kids!"
"I feel ill."
"Well, that was fun! Now, who's for Chinese?"
"You're about to fall out of orbit."
"Why can't he ever stay dead?"
"They can bury me in the ground, as deep as they like. But I'll grow back. We always grow back. Don't we, baby?"
"All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."
"You thought I was just another bubble-headed blond bimbo! Well, the joke's on you, 'cause I'm not even a real blonde."
"When the wage slaves start acting like they own the place, it's time to pull the plug."
"I've been known to be foolish, but ain't nobody calls me a liar and goes to bed happy."
"Since you don't like my side-splitters, how 'bout a skull-splitter?"
"This is kidnapping, mister! Last time I checked, it was highly illegal!"
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lewiscarrolatemybrain · 8 months
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This is kind of ooc but I love the idea of Luffy starting to care about fashion and appearances, not for his own sake — he doesn’t give a damn what he looks like beyond “like a pirate” and he doesn’t moralize other peoples appearances so even though he can tell when someone is easy on the eye it’s not like that actually changes his behavior at all — but because it’s another way to show off his crew.
I love possessive Luffy who thinks of his Strawhats as his greatest treasure, and like any good pirate when you’ve got good treasure you flaunt it. I love Luffy who will puff up his chest with pride because of his crews skills, their strength and resilience, their loyalty, their ability to overcome any obstacle laid before them. They’re the best, after all. Nothing less for the future Pirate King.
But I like to think that at some point it clicks for him like. Maybe it’s Nami or Robin, and they both took an extra half hour putting sparkly stuff on their eyelids and doing their hair up and they’re wearing dresses they usually can’t because they always have to dress ready for adventure. And they’re out and about, and they’re feelin’ themselves, and people are looking at the girls with desire and the girls are quietly basking in it and at some point Luffy realizes that he’s getting looks too.
Envious looks.
And at first he thinks it’s really dumb — obviously everybody should be super jealous of him and his great crew but these dudes don’t even know why Robin and Nami are so great, the just know they’re pretty. That’s like. Not even in the top fifteen reasons. Top twenty. There are so many other more important reasons why people should be jealous of Luffy for having Nami and Robin on his crew.
And something something Luffy eventually clocks into the fact that the girls like being pretty. They put effort into their looks and take pride in them because it means something to them, and they especially enjoy the fact that they can trust the men on their crew not only to be safe but to keep them safe. Nami can walk around half-naked in public because she knows of any guy tries anything one of her boys will beat him up before she even needs to electrocute the guy. She can enjoy herself and her body and her beauty without the pressure. Robin is the same way.
And that eventually ties into Luffy realizing that people think Zoro and Sanji and Usopp are hot, that Jimbei and Franky and even Brook and Chopper get curious and interested eyes every time they reach a new island (you cannot tell me there are no skeletonfuckers in the One Piece world I won’t believe you I remember Sans, and I imagine some of Choppers forms are a real hit with the Minks and the Monsterfuckers)
And I don’t really know where I’m going with this but I like the mental image of Luffy being like “not only is my crew the strongest and kindest and best and most powerful they’re also the sexiest and they’re mine” and well. Nobody can really argue with him.
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Text
Seashells I See
Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader
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AN: hiii this is my first time writing in literal years 😭😭 I hope you guys like it, and please let me know any improvement tips !
summary: reader is smitten. just can’t help it lol. neteyam asks reader to put shells in his hair
warnings: none. just fluff. maybe angst if you squint
word count: 1,071
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Weeks had passed since Toruk Makto and his family arrived on Awa’atlu, weeks since you first laid eyes on his eldest son. You remember it just as yesterday, his amber eyes, his sapphire skin. He was beautiful. Oh how you felt you could get lost in him forever. And the time spent together in those weeks did nothing to lessen the feeling. You had believed it was simply your curiosity engulfed in the mystery, that once satisfied, you’d be able to again sleep at night. But you were a moth drawn to a flame; every moment you tried to pull away, there he was shining brighter and you found yourself unable to escape. It didn’t help that you had to see him everyday, helping teach him and his siblings the ways of your people. But that was duty, obligation. It was the interactions outside of lessons that made your yearning grow.
He was somehow everywhere. No matter where you went, he would appear. Not that you opposed his company, it was quite comforting. His aura was soothing; you felt a sense of stillness around him, as if everything was right and perfectly in place. It was an addicting feeling; one you wanted more of, to drink it all up. But at the same time, you wanted to push down how he was making you feel. It made you lose focus. The overconsumption of him in your thoughts. And it was incredibly frustrating. But you couldn’t turn him away no matter how hard you tried. So you found yourself with Toruk Makto’s son more often than not. Outside of lessons he would join you in the water while you fed your ilu. Sometimes you would let him feed her. You would end up sitting together at feasts, much to your mother’s disapproval. You’d force him to try all the foods and laugh when he tried to hide his distaste, assuring him it was okay to not like it, as you yourself weren’t fond of some of the foods either. You convinced him to sneak out most nights. You would show him the reef, swim, and talk for hours, enjoying the solitude night brought you both.
Tonight was no different; you both swam and searched for shells while he told you about the troubles his younger brother would find himself in. You enjoyed his stories, but you could see the pain in his eyes when telling them, the mourning of his home and his life. It was not something you could imagine, having to become a stranger to yourself and your people. You smiled softly as he continued talking while you started sorting through your findings in the sand.
“I think I like this one best,” Neteyam pulled a shell from your pile, holding it out for you to see. It was small, rounded, and slightly chipped with lines of orange and white blending into each other.
You hummed, approving of his pick.
“I have yet to ask, what do you do with all of them?”
You paused to look up at him. “It depends. I make things like bracelets, arm bands, necklaces. I like to braid some into my hair. I give some to mother and Tsireya. They like the bigger ones.”
“I’ve noticed the ones in your hair. They’re beautiful,” he reached over to lightly trace the shells that adorned one of your braids.
Your cheeks flushed as you hid your face away, smiling. “Thank you.”
There was silence. Neteyam’s eyes briefly fogged over, lost in thought.
“Could you braid some in mine?”
You were shocked by the request. It was something so small but grand at the same time. Something intimate. You could feel your heartbeat increase, beating against your chest as you struggled to form your words.
“Of course,” the corners of your eyes creased as you smiled at him.
You crawled over and gently turned his body so that his hair would be accessible to you. You started undoing one of his braids, noticing the difference in hair textures right away in comparison to yours. It was surprisingly fine. It wasn’t quite silky, but smooth enough to unravel and fall into your hands, unlike yours that would stay in whatever shape it was formed in. You could smell the seawater, but there was an undertone of musk and dew. The forest. The ocean couldn’t quite wash it all away.
You picked up the shell he chose earlier along with some other small ones and started separating the hair to begin braiding.
It was silent as you worked. The only sounds were Neteyam’s soft breathing and the rushing of the sea, things you could listen to forever.
“I hope you can return home one day.”
“You want me gone that bad?” You knew he was teasing, trying to lighten the subject.
You stopped braiding and moved to face him, sand sticking to your legs.
“I know you miss it. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice.“
He sighed, “I do like it here,” he treaded his words carefully, worrying he might offend you. “It’s just not quite the same.”
You reach for his hand, grasping it in yours. The size difference was noticeable as his fingers went past your own. You could feel the calluses and small scars that littered his skin. “There will always be a home here for you, even if you go back.”
“I don’t think your mom would like that,” he flashed a grin at you and you couldn’t help but smile back with a small laugh.
“You have shells in your hair, she won’t like knowing I braided them.”
You both sat, just enjoying the bittersweet and each other’s presence. Neteyam missed the forest, but he misses it a little less knowing if they never left, he wouldn’t have known you, and that was something he could not live without.
He turned to look at you, amber eyes staring into blue. He brushed his hand against your cheek, cupping it gently. “I am happy to have met you. Ewya has blessed me with knowing you.”
You took in the bioluminescent dots that freckled his face. He was beautiful. As beautiful as when you first saw him. And despite it selfish, you were happy he was here and hoped he would stay for just a while longer. Just so that you could hold on to your Neteyam.
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