#her expression HAHAH

[concordd]

undefined

valotina gets stronger every day

[ellievickstar]

Sinner's Sacrifice

A/N: Here's part 2 of Bloodied Bonds , i'm going for alliteration in the title hahah. it's a lot shorter than the first part i wish i made it longer but i feel like i was stretching it out i know i know it sucks to wait for parts i really wanted it to only be two parts long but i really had a "my story has it's own ideas" moment T^T. I'm so so sorry towards anyone who thought this would be the last part I can assure you I thought that too. I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: As Azriel struggles to navigate a situation where he could lose you no matter what he chooses, take a look into his own heart.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying, self-sacrificing thoughts

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Azriel had lost count of how many hours it had been since he had threatened to eventually murder Elain.

And he was losing damned mind.

Every single day he had sat in the chair beside your sleeping form….you were breathing, which was an improvement from the heaving and choking in your sleep that alarmed Madja enough to order the inner circle to start taking turns watching over you. Madja believed that your condition improved because he was finally turning away from Elain, but that was what the bond sensed. Without your mind, your own belief to ensure your heart, your condition was bound to deteriorate again.

And yet you could not wake up so he could explain.

So he could apologise.

So he could beg for your forgiveness.

Everyday without making the decision to let Madja just remove the roots of the flowers seemed like a gamble, but after what had been discovered, what Cassian had caught Elain doing, the entire inner circle was not sure if it would be better to let your relationship go, or let you go.

Both scenarios, Azriel would lose.

In both situations, Azriel would lose you forever and a part of him felt like maybe he deserved it. If you ever woke up, ever wanted revenge to make him feel guilty for what had been done, regardless the fact that it had been out of his control, you would have gotten it in spades when he realised that his ignorance, his belief that he could help just one more person, his blindness to the Elain’s darkness, had caused him a situation that would cost him no matter what he did.

And in that, all he could do daily was hold your hand, and weep.

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“Go shower Azriel. It’s been three days,” Cassian said softly. The shadowsinger merely moved his head to gaze at his friend who leaned against the door frame. Not out of habit but because he genuinely needed the support. Azriel saw the eyebags under Cassian’s eyes, his tired exhausted expression not far from the one Azriel wore.

When Azriel simply shook his head, bringing his gaze back to his mate, not wanting to move another muscle, Cassian groaned.

“Azriel she won’t die within the time it takes you to take a quick bath, please, you need it,” However, Azriel once again did not move, this time not even deigning Cassian a response. The latter simply sighed before making his way towards Rhys’s office, pushing the door open to see Rhysand surrounded by various books, piles of them in the corner, some of them discarded with pages torn out.

“Rhys…?” Cassian knocked on the slightly ajar door.

Violet eyes met Cassian’s hazel ones and Rhys simply let out a breath before standing, checking the time by glancing at the window behind him, “Ah…it’s dark….I did not notice,” He simply stated awkwardly, moving to gather up some of the books from his desk, no doubt to bring it with him to his and Feyre’s room to further study until the waking hours of the next morning.

It broke Cassian’s heart to see his brothers in such a state.

Broke his own heart to see you lying there completely unconscious, every few days needing Madja to extract flowers from your throat.

The women of the house had isolated themselves to their own rooms. Mor came to your room every few hours to check on you however she stayed in her room surrounded by a similar book pile as Rhys, trying to consult her own oracles of truth to see if they had any answers. Amren had gone over to the summer court with Varian to see if they had any records that the Night Court did not, Nesta looked through the libraries with the priestesses, passing anything she found that may be useful to Feyre who scanned through them.

All this and nothing.

They had come up short.

Contacting Thesan, Helion, even Tamlin to see if there was any connections of the disease to the spring court, had come to nothing. No answers. No solutions.

Finally, as Cassian rounded the corner of the house he entered the room they had been keeping Elain in. There she was chained to the ground staring at the wall. For a moment Cassian would have felt bad for how hollow she looked, however his guilt was quickly swallowed by the anger he felt for what she had done to cause your current state.

“I see how you can help her…” Elain suddenly said, her eyes flitting to Cassian, “When minds connect, when you travel through souls,” She hummed before continuing to fiddle with the hem of her dress. Her cheeks were sunken in and hollow, her eyes now held a sharp and piercing stare instead of the soft glint. For once, Elain Archeron’s true colours were on full display.

At her words however, Cassian froze, his tone dropping to a dangerous timbre, “Do you know how to save Y/N,” Elain hummed, “I’ll tell you….for a price.”

“Do you really think that you are in a position to bargain?”

“She’s running out of time isn’t she?”

Cassian bit down on his tongue, hard. Storming out of the room he slammed the door shut, letting out a pained and frustrated roar.

Elain knew. Or at least there was a possibility that she knew. However, her calm demeanour and unflinching attitude showed Cassian no signs of lies. She knew how to save you but she wanted something out of it.

With a silent prayer, Cassian swore to himself he’d find the way to save you even if he had to pry it out of the memories in Elain’s dead body.

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“So she knows how to save my sister,” Rhys confirmed, Cassian nodded, “That’s what she claims. If she’s lying then she’s damned good at it, however she’s suggesting a bargain, I didn’t pry into the details she was thinking of.”

Not without Rhysand himself present.

Not without Azriel.

The three brothers looked at each other, Azriel’s hand was holding yours, had been holding yours since Rhysand and Cassian had come into the room saying that they had something to discuss.

“We should ask her what she wants,” Azriel muttered softly, his voice hoarse and raspy from not using it for a while.

“And if she asks for your hand?” Cassian challenged, “Then we’ll find a way to break the bargain like how Feyre and Rhysand did, but for now our focus is to save her.”

It was then Rhysand recognised his brother for once after all this time, the shadow singer who would do anything to keep you safe, the self-sacrificing spy master who would sacrifice himself, his choices just to save you.

“Let’s go then,” Rhysand concluded, standing from his stool, Cassian pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and Azriel graced the back of your hand with a soft kiss before standing, casting you one last glance before following his brothers out. Nesta replaced Azriel’s position on the stool, promising the shadow singer to keep watch of you until he returned.

Following his brothers down the hallway, Azriel’s mind flooded with memories of sneaking down these halls to get away with you, memories of coming home and seeing you in the hallway, collapsing into your loving arms. Thoughts of your love and you consumed him and he shuddered under the weight of his own grief.

He could not lose you.

He would not lose you.

And so as Azriel stepped into the room of Elain’s captivity, levelling her with a glare, inside Azriel knew that he would sacrifice anything just to hold you.

Part 3 is here!!

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A/N: please reply if you want to be tagged in part 3 people tagged in part 2 will not be tagged again in part 3 unless they ask in replies. Thank you <3

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl @helloworlditsmesblo (please ask if you want to be added to AZRIEL'S taglist - this is NOT the same as part 3 taglist)

[kandavers]

aaaaa ik you’re getting like sooo many asks but i really really love your Fem poe… would you draw her with like a bunch of random poses/doing random things w/ like a blank person? Or just in general she’s literally so pretty. She like makes me feel so fuzzy /vpos

MY GODDD I READ YOUR ASK AS “blank expression” so i was like HUHHH ok ig i’ll draw RanPoe then- and then I realised you mean blank PERSON as in Y/N HAHAHA my baddd please just imagine yourself in Ranpo’s place HAHAH

mmm underboob

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 2

Part 1 2 3

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.

Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.

She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants. For a while that was enough.

As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.

"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.

Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."

I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."

I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.

Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."

I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"

"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."

I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."

She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."

She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.

The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.

"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."

"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-

Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.

I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak. 

What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?

"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'

"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"

"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."

My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.

I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.

He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"

I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.

Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.

We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"

Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."

Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"

Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.

I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."

A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.

When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."

I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.

I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."

I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."

"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.

Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.

I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.

Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.

He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."

I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.

Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"

"Like what?" he draws nearer.

I whip my head, "THIS!"

Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"

I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."

"I am, with both eyes."

"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'

"Should I feel something?"

My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."

Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."

I look up at him.

"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."

My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.

I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.

Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."

I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.

"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."

I step back and make way for him to exit.

He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.

"And have you-"

Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.

"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"

I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."

The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."

I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.

Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"

I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.

Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.

"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"

Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."

Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.

Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."

Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.

I continue, "she makes me happy."

"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."

I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."

Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."

I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."

With that, he walks away.

"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.

I sigh and turn Daisy.

I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.

It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.

I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.

I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."

The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.

Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.

He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.

The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.

He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.

"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"

The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.

"What?!" he seethes.

"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!" 

Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.

He draws his sword.

Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.

To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"

"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.

Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"

"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"

"Its leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."

Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"

I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.

Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.

Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.

I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."

"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."

I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."

Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.

"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"

My expression drops.

"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"

I am unable to speak. 

Why is he doing this to me?

"Well?!" he demands.

I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"

"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."

I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.

"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."

The Hound storms off right after.

He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.

He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.

His insides feel like they were boiling.

He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.

He should have killed it.

Now it was too late.

"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."

I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."

I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."

Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."

I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.

"Where is your hound?" he asks.

I stiffen.

He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."

I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."

"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."

A breeze brushes past us.

I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."

"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"

He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."

I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.

"Other things perhaps," he says.

I do not respond to him.

A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.

I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."

Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.

"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."

I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"

His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."

I do not move an inch.

"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."

I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."

He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."

I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.

We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.

"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.

"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."

We share a soft laugh.

He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."

I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"

He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."

When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.

"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."

I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"

Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."

I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."

He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."

I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.

It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.

I did not.

This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.

And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.

I rub my belly, willing the dread away.

I refuse to believe he meant that.

I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.

Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.

My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.

"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.

He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"

"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."

The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"

I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."

Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.

He looks away and shifts back in place.

I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.

"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me. 

I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."

Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.

I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."

His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"

King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"

I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."

Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."

He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."

The door slams shut.

I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.

Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.

I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"

"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"

My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"

He scoffs.

I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."

"I'd like not to see you whoring around."

I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."

The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."

Sandor shifts on his spot.

I continue down the hall.

His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."

I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.

"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"

The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"

I begin to shuffle back.

"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."

I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.

I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.

When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.

I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.

The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.

I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."

I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.

I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.

"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.

I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."

I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.

"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."

His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.

I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.

I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.

The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.

I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.

I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.

Was... was it done?

"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.

All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.

All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.

My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.

I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.

We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.

I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.

I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.

We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."

Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."

My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"

She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."

"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."

"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."

We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."

Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"

The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.

"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."

I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.

I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"

He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."

He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.

"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."

I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.

Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.

I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"

"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.

Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"

"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."

Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.

"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's come from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."

He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.

The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.

It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.

Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.

Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.

He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.

"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"

[fanfictionsworld]

Can we plese please get a reader who's tired of Sebastian bullshit, like she's just there always facepalmed, not really attracted to him but treats him like every other boys (bitch lol). Like when he tries to charm her she just walks away with no expression, she's not even a tsundere or anything, just completely tired from the weirdness.

Okey i am so sorry for taking so long to write anything but here it is hope you will be satisfied.

Fem reader/Sebastian trying to impress but falling haha/reader is a bitch but a cool one which i love/Sebastians ego ruined hahah/

You are very difficult to him,which he hates.

You can not be impressed with anything he does and that eats him alive.

Why is this human denying me.

Like how i am beautiful,smart,i cook,i am everything any human could possible imagine,if not better.

He is alwasy thinking how he can step up his game with you.

No matter how hard he trys you alwasy find some way to not care or notice.

You avoid him everywhere.

If you possible see him in town with Ciel,you will say hi to Ciel and not spear him a glance..

Avoid all his questions of how are you,do you need any help with anything or are you free this afternoon,etc.

You just keep walking an completely ignore him while you shop

Which in truth is very irritating for him.

If he tells you any filrtatious compliment you just ignore him and keep walking.

And when you had enough of him you just top and say, ,,You need to stop folowing me around like a lost puppy you look desprate maybe you should do something better with your free time rather then stalking like a creep that you are.

To him that was like a dagger trough his hart.

He told you that which you responded with ,,Yes like you have one damon scum".Which he found incredibly attractive and he was deeply offended by that.

Of cours you did not care,you just walked past him wishing him a good day saying that he should you use him manipulative skill on someone else rather than you because you are not an imbecile to fall for it.

Sebastian watches as you walk past him,stunned and impressed.

He knows you will not fall for him,but is he going to pass on a challenge on seducing you of course not he loves playing cat and mouse with you.

[inuyashaluver]

could you write a fic for either alessia or mlt where she’s sick but being stubborn about it in front of everyone at training, until you both get home and she goes all soft and clingy with you

you’re sick - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your stubborn girlfriend insists she’s not sick and swears she’s fine to go to training, as soon as you both get home, she crumbles

warnings: slightly angsty? swearing

a/n: hiya!! i decided to go with lessi on this one because i literally have a maya sick fic coming HAHAH, ENJOY❤️

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if there was one thing to know about your girlfriend, alessia russo, it was that she was extremely stubborn. whether it was in football, arguments or her own health, she was stubborn, something that you alone always had to deal with.

alessia had dragged you to bed extremely early last night, claiming that she was just really tired. you believed her until she pushed you on the bed and completely laid on top of you. she hides her face in the crook of your neck, her hands went under your shirt to rest on the skin of your back, she was really warm. she places her entire weight on you but you didn’t mind, you love her clingy side.

you woke up first to the loud blaring of your alarm, alessia snuggles closer to you and groans into your neck, she was still warm. “grumpy this morning, lessi baby?” you slot a hand through her hair, gently scratching her scalp with your nails. she hums at your contact and places lazy kisses on your neck in appreciation. she doesn’t reply, instead she moves up to straddle your waist and looks down at you with a frown.

“you okay?” you look up at her with a teasing smile, you run your hands over her thighs comfortingly, she leans down to place a kiss on your lips, you smile up into her, she cups your face with her hands and returns the grin in the kiss. though, when she presses her hands to your cheeks fully, you wince and gently push her from you,“baby, you’re really hot” she hovers over you with a gentle smirk, “you’re really hot” she says with a wink and you shake your head.

“alessia” you say sternly and she sits up again at your glare. moving off you to sit cross legged beside you. and that’s when she cracks, she sniffs. she fucking sniffs. alessia russo is sick. you sit up quickly and hold your hand to her forehead, tutting at her. “alessia, you're sick” your stern expression never leaving your face. “i am not! and stop calling me alessia” she whines, grabbing your hand in attempts to ease you up. you almost crack and have to clear your throat to stay composed.

“lessi, you’re staying home, i’ll take the day off training too and we can stay here” you lean over to grab your phone but alessia grabs both of your hands and presses you to the bed, “baby, sarina will kick us out of the squad!, it’s the world cup please don’t” she pleads, pressing you into the hotel bed with her arms and hips.

“she would never do that baby, you’re too amazing” you pause “oh and alessia, you’re sick” you go to move up but her grip on you is extremely tight. “(y/n). i. am. not. sick.” she emphasises each word sternly, you do understand why she was upset you first named her, but you were pissed, her stubbornness driving you insane.

“alessia. you. are. sick.” out of anger, she places her lips on yours again, somehow trying to convince you that she wasn’t sick, “woah, baby, you’re heating up, are you sick?” alessia says against your lips, you shake your head at her and push her off you.

“fine! we’ll go to training” you look at her with your hands on your hips, you were dressed only in her shirt, “you’re so sexy, baby” you point a finger at her warningly, “don’t try me, russo, i’m getting changed and we’re going.”

she winces when you slam the bathroom door, she got last named, that hurt. she got dressed quickly, sitting on the hotel bed and waited for you. she was pissed but she would never leave without you, even when she was feeling stubborn.

you come out of the bathroom with a frown, glancing at her slightly red nose and pink cheeks. she was sniffling while scrolling on her phone. your heart softens at the fact that the girl waited for you.

you wordlessly walk up to her and pull her up by the hand, gripping her wrist and taking her down to the meeting point before getting on the bus. once you saw ella, you push alessia towards her and walk away towards the small coffee stand at the hotel lobby, seeing your close friend esme and walking up to her.

ella was shocked by both yours and alessia’s appearance, you both looked pissed. “trouble in lover’s paradise, less?” alessia glares at ella, “don’t fucking try me right now, tooney” she says with a sniff and a slight cough. alessia kicks at the ground, she just wanted her girlfriend right now, slightly regretting agreeing to training and wishing she would have listened to you and stayed in bed.

“you’re sick, aren’t you?” ella teases, alessia slaps her arm, “i’m not sick!” she begins to argue with her best friend.

that’s when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, she looks down to see you with a cup of tea in hand. you extend it out to her and she takes it with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. your eyes trace over her face worriedly. “thank you” she whispers, you gently smile at her, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. “come and find me when you’re not being stubborn” she can’t help but let out a little giggle and places a kiss on your forehead with a scoff, trying to hide the smile forming on her lips, not going unnoticed by you.

“sit next to ella, i’ll sit in front of you” she pouts slightly but nods at you, knowing you hated when she was stubborn and wanted to give you some space. you both get situated on the bus, you sitting with esme in front of ella and alessia. you sit in the aisle seat in front of your girlfriend, you could hear her sniffing and coughing from behind you and you put your hand out behind you, she immediately grasps your hand tightly as you hold her from the back of your seat.

you gently run your thumb over her hand comfortingly, you were being so sweet despite her stubbornness, she wanted to cry. you let go of her hand when you feel her grip loosen. you peer over at her from the top of your seat, ella and alessia had both fallen asleep. you grin at them, taking a photo on your phone and turning back to sit back down to chat with esme for the short time left.

—

you keep your eyes on alessia the entire time during training, she was with ella during drills. a couple of the girls kept coming up to you to inform you that alessia was sick, all you could do was sigh and nod, thanking them for telling you what you knew all too well.

you kept looking at her with raised eyebrows when she coughed or sniffed, she would look at you with a scowl, “i’m not sick!” if you had a dollar for everytime she said this today, you’d be a millionaire. you would just nod your head unconvinced, to humour her.

sarina even came up to you and asked if alessia was sick, you glanced over at her and she shook her head at you desperately, “no no, it’s just cold, isn’t australia supposed to be hot?” you laugh uncomfortably, sarina just smiles at you, knowing you were just protecting your girlfriend, she would text you later to tell you and alessia to have the day off tomorrow. she tells you to go back to training after seeing alessia’s panicked face.

alessia lets out a sigh of relief, she jogs over to you and hold on to your bicep, “thank you, baby” she smiles at you softly, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. you gesture at her to come close to you, “you’re sick, lessi” you say directly in her ear, she rolls her eyes and gives you a light shove, slightly grinning at you.

she was slowly starting to crack, she was sick and she knew it. you laugh at her brightly, reaching up to pinch her cheek playfully before returning back to your team drills.

the rest of training, alessia progressively got worse, she kept swallowing with a wince and clearing her throat all the time, coughing and sneezing. you stay near her, you keep subtly checking her temperature but pulling her down for kisses on her cheek and forehead, she knew what you were doing but she was appreciative you were letting her continue her facade.

—

you sat next to each other on the bus, you hold her hand as you rests her head on your shoulder, nuzzling into you.

you say goodbye to everyone, telling everyone you would see them tomorrow, you drag alessia to the room by her hand, she grips onto you tightly. her eyes were slightly droopy and feeling congested.

as soon as you open the door, you lightly push alessia inside, closing the door behind the both of you. “baby” she whines out, you extend your arms out to her, she immediately steps forward and hugs you tightly, you squeak as she lifts you up and puts you on the bed. she lies on top of you again, immediately putting her head in your neck.

you rub gentle circles on her back, “i’m sick” she mumbles out into your neck. you giggle softly, kissing her cheek, “i know, baby”. she slightly pulls back to face you, looking into your eyes, “i’m so sorry” she pouts, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“you don’t have to be sorry, baby” you move a hand to cup her face with one hand, “no training tomorrow, okay? i’ll call sarina” she nods begrudgingly, giving you a quick, soft kiss on your lips. you get her medicine and order some soup for her, nursing her back to health fairly quickly, she just had a little cold.

“thank you for taking care of me, baby, i love you” she smiles softly, you sitting on her lap as the two of you watch a movie. “i love you too, lessi baby” you grin at her cheekily, giving her a quick kiss but quickly pulling away to let out a sniffle “fuck” alessia sighs, “i’m not sick!”

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liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

alessiarusso99: we’re not stubborn, we’re passionate

view all comments

yourname: yeah but you’re REALLY stubborn

↳ alessiarusso99: you’re stuck with me

↳ yourname: you’re lucky you’re cute

↳ alessiarusso99: you’re cute

ellatoone: i’d say you’re both delusional

↳ alessiarusso99: rude.

↳ yourname: rude.

[thewulf]

Troublemaker || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request -Hiiii! can you do a Dallas Winston x Curtis Sister Reader (maybe sodapop's twin?) who is soooo different than soda. She's a firecracker with a mouth on her that gets her in trouble? Dally finds himself repeatedly rescuing the Curtis sister reader, who always seems to get into trouble with her sharp tongue and rebellious streak... Read Rest Here

A/N: I kinda love this one deeply. Something about a troublemaker loving another one gets writing (alot) hahah hope you guys enjoy! Kinda OOC Dally at some points but idc, I love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Curtis Sister)

Word Count: 5.3k +

TW: choice words, fighting, punching, blood, general Outsiders TW

1. Clowns at the Drive-In:

The night was alive with the buzz of excitement at the local drive-in, the air thick with the scent of popcorn and gasoline. The flickering lights of the movie screen cast shadows across the rows of cars parked haphazardly, each filled with eager teenagers seeking a brief escape from the monotony of their everyday lives.

But for you, the Curtis sister, it spelled trouble. Perched on the hood of your twin brother Sodapop's car, you exchanged barbs with a group of Socs who had taken offense to your sharp retorts and fiery demeanor. Sodapop himself was inside the concession stand, chatting with a few friends, while your youngest brother Ponyboy was engrossed in a book, oblivious to the brewing confrontation outside. You’d never catch Darry at one of these movie nights anymore.

"You think you're real funny, huh?" one of the Socs sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he loomed over you, his companions snickering behind him.

You merely smirked, unfazed by the hostility radiating from the group. "Funny enough to make you clowns laugh, that's for sure."

Your words were met with a chorus of jeers and taunts, fueling the fire of your defiance as you squared your shoulders and met their gazes head-on. But just as the tension reached its boiling point, a looming figure emerged from the concession stand, cutting through the crowd with a swagger that commanded attention. For Dally always had his eyes on you. Especially after your parents passed.

Dallas Winston, the epitome of reckless abandon and untamed rebellion, emerged from the shadows like a predator stalking its prey. His presence alone commanded attention, the faint glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards the confrontation with an air of nonchalance.

As he drew closer, his leather jacket seemed to gleam in the dim light of the drive-in, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him like a phantom. His gaze swept over the scene before him, taking in every detail with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those unlucky enough to meet his stare. Dallas freaking Winston.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Dally drawled, his voice low and dripping with utter irritation as he finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation before him.

The Socs, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, turned their attention to him, their expressions shifting from hostility to uncertainty as they recognized the infamous greaser in their midst. But despite their feigned courage, there was an underlying sense of unease in their demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked beneath Dally's cool exterior.

"This ain't none of your business, Winston," one of them muttered, his voice tinged with defiance but faltering in the face of Dally's imposing presence.

Dally merely smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stepped between them and you, effectively cutting off any further confrontation with his sheer presence alone. His posture radiated confidence, a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge him.

"I think it is now," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine as you watched from your perch on the hood of the car. “You made it my problem.”

There was a tense silence as the standoff continued, the air heavy with anticipation as both sides weighed their options. But before things could escalate further, Dally's gaze flickered towards the Socs with a silent warning, a promise of consequences should they choose to push their luck any further.

With a final, angry glance in their direction, the Socs begrudgingly backed down, their bravado no match for the steely resolve of the infamous greaser. And as they slunk away into the shadows, defeated but not defeated, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude mixed with a sense of awe at the enigmatic figure who had just saved you from a brawl you couldn't have won.

After Dallas stepped between you and the Socs, a cocky grin spread across his lips, revealing that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. "Your welcome, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he turned his attention to you.

You bristled at his audacity, your temper flaring like a matchstick ignited. With a roll of your eyes, you shot back, "Don't flatter yourself, tough guy. I could've handled those idiots just fine on my own."

Dallas chuckled, unfazed by your sharp retort. "Sure, looked like it," he remarked, his grin widening as he leaned against the hood of Sodapop's car, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. "You know, not everyone needs a knight in shining armor to come to their rescue."

Dally raised an eyebrow, his expression turning contemplative as he studied you. "Maybe not, but it sure beats getting your pretty face smashed in by a bunch of Soc’s."

Your cheeks flushed with indignation at his comment, but you couldn't deny the underlying truth in his words. With a huff of frustration, you conceded defeat, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, maybe I owe you one," you muttered under your breath, your pride refusing to let you admit defeat outright.

Dally's grin widened at your admission, a glimmer of triumph shining in his eyes. "You owe me more than just one, sweetheart," he replied, his tone teasing as he pushed himself off the car. and sauntered away, leaving you seething with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration.

While you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about Dallas Winston that both infuriated and intrigued you in equal measure. And as the night stretched on, you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that your paths were destined to cross time and time again, whether you liked it or not.

2. A Brush with the Law:

In the midst of your rebellious streak, you found yourself in a predicament that even your usually suave tongue couldn't talk your way out of. It was one of those nights where mischief seemed like the only way to break free from the suffocating grip of the mundane.

The evening began innocently enough, with you and a few friends roaming the streets in search of excitement. The city lights flickered like distant stars, casting shadows that danced along the pavement, teasing you with the promise of adventure. But as the night wore on, the allure of mischief grew stronger, pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing moment.

It started with harmless pranks and playful banter, the kind of mischief that left a trail of laughter in its wake. But as the hours stretched on and the adrenaline surged through your veins, the line between harmless fun and reckless abandon began to blur. The world became a playground, and you were determined to make the most of it, consequences be damned.

By now, the cops knew you on a first-name basis from all the petty trouble you had caused. They had become all too familiar with your antics, chasing after you like a dog chasing its tail, only to watch helplessly as you slipped through their fingers time and time again. They had warned you countless times, given you more chances than you deserved, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, there was a weariness in their eyes, a sense of resignation that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. They were tired. Tired of dealing with your antics, tired of letting you off with a warning only to see you back at it again the next day. It was as if they had reached the end of their patience, the final straw in a long line of frustrations that stretched back further than you cared to remember.

But even in the face of their stern warnings and thinly veiled threats, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The thrill of rebellion was a drug, intoxicating and irresistible, and you were hooked. It was a dangerous game you played, dancing on the edge of disaster with reckless abandon, but in that moment, it was the only thing that made you feel truly alive. You needed it.

As they cornered you in the dimly lit alley, their voices stern and faces etched with grim determination, the threat of spending the night in jail loomed over you like a dark cloud. Panic gripped your chest in a vise-like grip, squeezing the air from your lungs as you frantically scanned the surroundings for a way out. But the walls of the alley closed in around you, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat's claws.

Your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences awaiting you if you were to be taken into custody. You couldn't shake the image of your oldest brother Darry's disappointed face, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern as he realized the extent of your latest misadventure. You knew he would be furious, not just at the trouble you had gotten yourself into, but at the worry and stress it would inevitably cause him and your other brothers. The fear of facing Darry's wrath was almost suffocating, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as you grappled with the realization of just how badly you had messed up. In your reckless pursuit of excitement and rebellion, you had failed to consider the consequences of your actions, the fallout that would inevitably follow in their wake.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a familiar figure emerged from the entrance of the alley, his presence a welcome relief in the darkness. Dallas Winston stepped forward with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his piercing gaze locking with the officers' with an unwavering intensity.

"Easy there, fellas," Dally drawled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that bordered on insolence. "No need to get your badges in a twist."

His words sliced through the tension in the alleyway like a well-honed blade, disrupting the somber atmosphere with an unexpected twist. The officers, taken aback by Dallas's nonchalant demeanor, exchanged wary glances, unsure of how to respond to his brazen defiance.

But Dally, ever the master of manipulation, wasted no time in seizing the opportunity to sway the officers to your side. With a casual shrug of his shoulders and a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you and the law enforcement with a confidence that bordered on audacity.

"Look, we all know she's a handful," Dally continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, laced with an undertone of genuine concern. "But taking her in ain't gonna solve anything. Trust me, I've tried. You know what they’ve been through."

As he spoke, a flicker of empathy flashed in his eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the turmoil that had plagued your life since your parents' untimely demise. He knew all too well the pain of loss, the ache of abandonment that lingered long after the funeral flowers had withered away. And though he rarely showed it, there was a part of him that understood the reckless desperation that drove you to seek solace in acts of rebellion.

The officers, their resolve waning in the face of Dallas's persuasive charm, exchanged hesitant glances, silently wrestling with their conscience. They knew the Curtis family's tragic history, knew the burden of responsibility that weighed heavily on your shoulders in the wake of your parents' death. And as they looked into your eyes, they saw not a delinquent, but a lost soul searching for a way to fill the void left behind by loss and grief.

With a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world, the lead officer relented. His shoulders slumped in defeat; the lines of exhaustion etched deeply into his weary face as he stepped aside to allow you to pass. "Fine," he grumbled, the resignation evident in his voice, "but this is the last time."

His words hung heavy in the air, a somber reminder of the precarious balance between leniency and accountability that governed their duties as law enforcement officers. They had given you more chances than you deserved, turned a blind eye to your transgressions time and time again, but they knew that their patience was wearing thin. There was only so much they could overlook before the hammer of justice came crashing down with unrelenting force.

Dally, ever the opportunist, seized upon the moment of vulnerability with a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken agreement as he draped an arm around your shoulders with an air of possessiveness. "Appreciate it, fellas," he remarked, his voice oozing with satisfaction as he guided you away from the alley, away from the looming threat of incarceration.

And as you walked side by side into the night, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had come to your rescue once again. You glanced up at him, the flickering streetlights casting shadows across his features, and offered him a tentative smile of thanks. It was a small gesture, a token of appreciation for his unwavering loyalty and unyielding support in the face of adversity.

As you looked at him, his cocky grin softened by a flicker of genuine concern, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, now held a warmth that caught you off guard, melting away the layers of cockiness to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability beneath.

But before you could dwell on it further, Dally's voice broke through your reverie, his words laced with a hint of amusement that conveyed the seriousness lurking just beneath the surface.

"You're quite the troublemaker, sweetheart," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with a note of concern.

You rolled your eyes in response, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips. "And you're quite the smooth talker, Winston," you replied, unable to hide the admiration in your voice despite your best efforts.

As the words left your lips, Dally's expression shifted, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. There was a weightiness to his gaze, a silent question lingering in the air as he studied you intently, his eyes searching for the truth behind your casual facade.

"Hey, are you actually alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, stripped of its usual playfulness. His concern was palpable, genuine, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he typically presented to the world. "This isn't like you, getting caught by the fuzz like that."

His unexpected tenderness caught you off guard, the sincerity in his question piercing through the layers bullshit you typically wore like armour. You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the depth of his concern, before offering him a small nod of reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears. You forced a casual tone, hoping to brush off the weight of his inquiry, the nagging doubts that gnawed at the edges of your mind. "Just got a little carried away, that's all."

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn't just a momentary lapse in judgment. There was a restlessness inside you, a longing for something more than the mundane routine of everyday life, that drove you to seek out trouble wherever you could find it. And in that moment, as you stood before Dally with his piercing gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you.

Dally continued to study you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. He didn't press further, sensing that there was more to your story than you were willing to reveal. Instead, he offered you a small, understanding smile, a silent reassurance that he would be there for you whenever you were ready to open up.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

His words caught you off guard, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity behind them. And as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

With a subtle squeeze of his arm around your shoulders, Dally offered you a reassuring smile, a silent promise that he would always be there to watch your back, no matter what trouble you managed to find yourself in. And as you walked side by side into the night, the echoes of his words mingling with the sounds of the city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

3. Escaping a Sticky Situation:

As the Friday night lights illuminated the football field, casting a glow of excitement over the small town, the air crackled with anticipation. It was meant to be a harmless prank, a bit of mischief to inject some excitement into the dull routine of small-town life. But what had started as a simple joke quickly spiraled out of control, and you, the Curtis sister, found yourself in a precarious situation.

The prank had been innocent enough at first—a bit of good-natured rivalry between the Greasers and the Socs. However, things took a dangerous turn when the Soc boys, their egos bruised and their tempers flaring, decided to retaliate with more than just words. They targeted you, singling you out from the crowd, their menacing glares and clenched fists leaving no doubt about their intentions.

Your heart raced with adrenaline, panic clawing at your chest as you frantically searched for a way out of the tightening circle of Soc boys. But as the situation grew more dire, Dallas Winston yet again emerged like a savior in the darkness, his presence a welcome relief amidst the chaos and looming threat of violence. By this point you were convinced it was your brothers who had him watching you for how else could he, quite literally, always be there to say you from these situations?

As the chaos unfolded near the stands, Dallas Winston's arrival seemed almost surreal. At first, his laughter echoed across the small courtyard area, a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air. But as he surveyed the scene, his amusement quickly morphed into a glare of righteous anger.

"Buncha tough guys picking on a little lady, huh?" Dally's voice cut through the chaos like a knife, his tone dripping with disdain as he confronted the Soc boys. His words carried a weight of accusation, a challenge to their masculinity and decency.

As Dally's words hung in the air, the Soc boys hesitated, their usual boastfulness faltering under his scathing gaze. But one of them, bolder—or perhaps more foolish—than the rest, reached out and laid a hand on your arm, his grip tight and menacing.

Instantly, Dally saw red.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, his fists flying in a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of punches on the Soc who dared to lay hands on you. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, the sound echoing across the field like a drumbeat of fury.

The other Soc boys, realizing their mistake too late, attempted to intervene, but Dally was a force to be reckoned with. With a ferocity born of righteous anger, he fought like a man possessed, his only thought to protect you from harm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was likely only seconds, Dally's onslaught came to an end. The Soc who had dared to touch you lay crumpled on the ground, bloodied, and bruised, but alive.

Dally stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and triumph. The other Soc's had long since fled, likely for help. But he didn’t give a damn. His attention was now on you. And as he turned to you, his expression softened with a mixture of relief and concern, seeing you standing there relatively unharmed. It was when he saw the tears in your eyes that he knew he had to do something.

Dally's gaze softened further as he approached you with caution, the fire in his eyes dimming to reveal a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He reached out tentatively, his rough hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded moments before.

"Hey, it's alright, sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to the turmoil raging inside you. "You're okay. It’ll be alright." He attempted to console you as best as he could, however it wasn’t his strong suit.

But the tears continued to flow unabated, a testament to the fear and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You tried to hold them back, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that had always been your shield against the world. But in that moment, with Dally standing before you, all of your defenses crumbled.

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you buried your face in your hands, the weight of the night crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You could feel the tremors wracking your body, the sobs tearing from your throat in ragged gasps.

Dally watched you carefully, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. Without a bit of hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, pulling you close to his chest as if to shield you from the world's cruelties. His arms felt surprisingly comforting, a safe haven amidst the chaos that had engulfed you.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay to let it out," he whispered gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your storm. "You're safe now, darlin'. I've got you."

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, calming the storm of emotions raging inside you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, to find solace in the warmth of his presence. As the tears continued to fall, Dally held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. He didn't try to offer empty reassurances or false promises. Instead, he simply held you, a silent pillar of strength in the darkness.

The Unexpected Thank You:

As the weight of the night's events settled upon your shoulders like a heavy cloak, you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you. The adrenaline that had fueled you earlier now gave way to a profound sense of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. And in the quiet solitude of the street, with only Dally's presence beside you, you felt the walls you had carefully built around your heart begin to crumble.

"Thank you, Dallas," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a rawness you hadn't expected. "For everything."

Your words hung in the air, vulnerable and exposed, a stark contrast to the tough exterior you usually wore like armor. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, as if a weight had been lifted from your chest. For so long, you had been carrying the burden of your troubles alone, too afraid to let anyone else see the cracks in your facade. But with Dally standing beside you, offering a silent anchor in the storm, you found yourself finally able to let go.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw something flicker beneath the tough exterior, something vulnerable and achingly human. It was a mirror of your own inner turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and loneliness that lurked within you both. And in that shared moment of vulnerability, you realized that perhaps, just perhaps, you were more alike than you had ever dared to imagine.

As Dally enveloped you in his embrace for the second time that night, his arms offering solace and refuge, a tender silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sound of your quiet sobs. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of the emotions coursing through you both. But as you held each other close, your hearts spoke volumes, weaving a silent symphony of understanding and compassion.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, you know," Dally murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "It's okay to let yourself feel, to let yourself grieve."

His words resonated deep within you, stirring a bittersweet ache in your chest. For so long, you had tried to bury your pain beneath layers of confidence and defiance, afraid to confront the gaping hole that your mother and fathers absence had left behind. But in Dally's embrace, you found the courage to face your demons, to confront the rawness of your grief without fear of judgment or rejection.

With trembling hands, you clung to him, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. And as you spoke of your mother, of the memories that still lingered like ghosts in the corners of your mind, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you, as if by giving voice to your pain, you could finally set yourself free.

"I miss her, Dally. I miss them," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. "Every day, it feels like a piece of me is missing. Like I'm lost without her. She was my best friend and now she’s just gone.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless passage of time. And as you gazed into Dally's eyes, you saw your own pain reflected back at you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"You're not alone, sweetheart," Dally replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I may not have all the answers, but I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

In that moment, you felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the tough greaser who had stood by your side through thick and thin. In his arms, you found a sense of belonging you had never known, a sanctuary from the storm of emotions that raged within you.

In the hushed intimacy of your embrace, the turmoil within you quieted, replaced by a sense of tranquility you had never known. But amidst the stillness, a storm raged within you, a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

With each steady heartbeat, you felt the tendrils of affection wrapping around your heart, weaving a tapestry of emotions you struggled to comprehend. The way his touch ignited a warmth deep within you, the way his voice soothed the turmoil of your soul — these were sensations you had never experienced before, and yet they felt undeniably right.

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you couldn't shake the realization that your feelings for Dally surpassed mere gratitude or admiration. It was something more, something you couldn't quite put into words but felt with every fiber of your being.

In the quiet of the night, you allowed yourself to explore these newfound emotions, to sift through the tangled mess of your thoughts and feelings. And in doing so, you came to a startling revelation — you liked him, more than you had ever dared to admit.

But the thought of confessing your feelings to Dally filled you with a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if your friendship was forever altered by your admission?  Yet, as you glanced up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored your own. Perhaps, you thought, he felt the same way — a silent understanding that transcended words.

Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to do. With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, your touch feather-light against his stubbled skin.

"Dally," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you."

As your eyes met, you sensed an unspoken understanding passing between you. Without needing further words, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. It was a tender gesture, filled with reassurance and affection, a silent promise of his unwavering support and care.

But before you could utter another word, Dally's hand gently tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours with a intensity that made your heart race.

"I need to tell you something too," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft night breeze.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.

"Doll," he continued, his voice husky with emotion, "I've been wanting to say this for a while now, but I ain't never found the right words. I reckon there’s no fancy way to put it, so I'll just say it straight."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting your gaze once more.

"I love you," he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a sacred vow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, emotions swirling within you like a tempest. For so long, you had harbored these feelings, afraid to voice them, afraid of what they might mean for your friendship, for your future. But now, as those three simple words hung in the air between you, you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your chest, replaced by a warmth that radiated from the very core of your being.

You searched his eyes, seeking confirmation of the truth you dared to believe. And there, amidst the depths of his gaze, you found it — sincerity, vulnerability, and a love that mirrored your own. It was a revelation that left you breathless, a realization that this connection you shared transcended the boundaries of friendship, binding you together in a bond that felt unbreakable.

"I love you too, Dally," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, as if afraid that speaking the words aloud would make them disappear into the night.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading into insignificance as you both basked in the sheer weight of those words. They held within them the promise of a future unknown, yet somehow certain in its inevitability. And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, you felt a sense of belonging wash over you, as if you had finally found your place in the world.

With his arms around you, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, no matter what storms threatened to tear you apart, you had each other. Together, you could weather any adversity, conquer any obstacle that stood in your path. For in each other's arms, you found strength, comfort, and a love that knew no bounds.

"Hey," he whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear as he held you close. "You don't have to say anything more. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere."

For the first time in a while you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a profound gratitude for the man who stood by your side through thick and thin. With a heartfelt sigh, you nestled against him, finding solace in his presence as you stood together beneath the starlit sky. In his embrace, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the uncertainties of the world outside. And as you looked up at the twinkling stars above, you knew that your love would light the way through even the darkest of nights, guiding you towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[aliidarling]

first time requesting 😋😋

But i went through all your danny ones bro please i luv how crazy you make him.

I would like a wesker one, smuttiest thing you could think of 😫🙏🙏 Yk how sable has the new swimsuit cosmetic? Basically Mc/reader? (idk how you would describe) Runs into wesker in their cute bathing suit 😼 pls abd thanks for being my source of entertainment at 5 am

HAHAH thank you so muchhh!!! i try to make danny as canon-like as i can :)) ive never done wesker before but i can just for u😝

i’m not very educated on wesker lore, i’ve only played re2,3,4,6,& 7 which is basically the games without him 💀 so excuse me if i don’t write him that well! but i love dbd/stars wesker 🤗

the beach

ALBERT WESKER x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary; you’re spawned into the trial wearing a cute swimsuit and albert likes it veryyy much!

warnings; pervy wesker, dub con kinda, fingering, mean weaker, male masturbation, fist fucking, no penetration but he cums on your pussy :3

from the moment you spawned into the trial, you felt the cold air brush against parts of your body it should not be available to. why could you feel the wind blowing against your ass? this had to be some sick joke.

it was like the entity was laughing at you. you looked down at your body to be met with the sight of a cute little bikini— a pink plaid set with strawberries littered over the two thin piece of clothing. the tiny straps holding up the bikini were flimsy and tied into little bows at each side of your hips with two matching ones at your shoulders.

this couldn’t get any worse, you thought.

you were thankful to spawn alongside your fellow girlfriends, feng-min, yui, and claire. all their eyes immediately cast to your outfit, feng-mins cheeks going pink as she gasped softly.

“oh! you must be so cold—“ she says immediately, scooting closer to shamelessly ogle your breasts. you blush and push her away with a playful grumble.

“let’s just get started on those generators..”

you all find the nearest generator and quickly get to work, fingers fiddling with the wires. a few times you accidentally get sparked by it but never bad enough that it causes an explosion. you’re on your highest alert, hoping the killer is one of those mindless monsters instead of the human ones, like ghostface or the legion. the mastermind probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at you, he’s so stuck up his own ass he probably isn’t even into others.

after a short minute of you all working together, the generator finally pops and the bright light begins to shine, alerting the killer of your location. it doesn’t even take five seconds for the chase music to begin, the loud heart beat taunting you.

it was as if the entity was making fun of you today, bullying you relentlessly. you wondered if she was sitting in the clouds eating popcorn, giggling at your facial expression dropping once you saw the mastermind scanning his surroundings.

once his eyes set on you, you immediately yelled at the girls to run and work on the other generators. you’ll loop him for as long as you can, you told them. you don’t have much time to react before the blonde man lunges at you harshly from afar, missing you by a few inches. you rush off to the side and break out into a sprint towards a jungle gym.

“don’t waste my time, deary. you’re wearing a slutty swim suit, you think you’ll last before it gets caught on a twig?” he mocks, his deep voice making you shiver. you hug yourself at his words, scowling as you run around a pallet with him, trying to greed the pallet.

“don’t be a pervert!” you scold, running pass the pallet to trick him, only to double back and drop it on his face last second once he’s standing close enough. a guttural groan is heard from him as he stumbles back, his sunglasses falling off his face. he glares at you.

the few seconds he’s caught off guard your eyes graze over his figure, admiring his rare outfit. it was a uniform of some sort, blue button up with a tactical vest and black slacks. his sleeves were cuffed and tugged up to the crook of his elbow, showing his veiny fore arms and expensive looking wrist watch. you could bet it had a dozen cracks on it by now.

“you haven’t gotten laid in what, months? years? no wonder you’re so uptight!” you yell. “maybe some pussy would do you a favor!” you shriek, still feeling a little offended over his comment on how slutty you looked. as if you had a choice wearing this!

“you’ll regret those words.” he hisses, lunging towards you and managing to grasp ahold of your body, throwing you over his shoulder roughly. you squeal, thrashing around as he starts to lead you to the secluded basement. great, you had really pissed him off.

you’re caught by surprise when he throws you onto the cold floor without any care, a small yelp leaving your throat as you try to stand up. he immediately pushes down on your back with his foot, crushing you into the floor. he grinds his boot into your soft skin, admiring how much of your body was revealed by the flimsy bikini.

“did you anger the entity, darling? no wonder she cursed you with such a scandalous outfit, your frustrating personality must of done what it always does.” he mocks, feeling his pants tighten at the sight of you on the floor under his boot, your pretty skin dirty.

“oh, fuck you! you’re so god damn annoying i swear to—“ you start, getting interrupted when you suddenly feel his boot shove itself between your thighs, rubbing down against your bikini bottom. you squeak, your body jolting at the unexpected friction.

“what? what’s wrong?” he coo’d, a cocky grin on his stupidly handsome face, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. he grinds his boot against your clothed pussy, relishing in the noises you suppressed. he could hear the small gasp leaving your system.

“you pervert, get your boot off my..” you whimper, voice cracking. you blink in surprise as he kneels down behind you, admiring your body from his angle. your butt was pretty much in his face, in your hands and knees. you gulped hard, feeling humiliated. and slightly aroused.

“what? what’d you say?” he tchs, large fingers tugging at the straps that hold your bikini together, the little bow threatening to give out. one little pull of his fingers and your bare butt and pussy would be on display for him.

soon enough he pulls on the thin strap and it falls off your hips, discarding onto the floor. you gasp as the cold air brushes against you, clenching down subconsciously.

“i hate you.” you whimper, pouting as he runs his fingers over your glistening pussy, his other rustling within his clothes. you heard wrinkling and the unzipping of his slacks.

he pulls his half hard-on out, pre cum dripping off the firm tip. he was extremely turned on by the sight of you bent over with your butt in the air line a dog, pouty lips and flushed cheeks. you looked so adorable.

“shut your lips and stay quiet. i can’t have anyone seeing me with you.” he spits out your name like you were a disgrace to be upon his tongue and you can’t help but feel a little offended. you weren’t that bad of a person!

“what is that supposed to mean?!” you gawk at him, pressing your lips together once he swats at your butt, silencing you. you go back to looking down at the basement floor as he smoothly slides two of his glove-clad fingers into your hole, watching how you take him in perfectly. it was a small squeeze but he manages, his other hand wrapping around his cock to lazily pump.

the precum drips down his cock onto his hand, a husky moan leaving his throat as his head leans back, bathing in the pleasure of the little fantasy he has in his head— fucking your tight pussy. but he knows he can’t achieve that, not here, that is. maybe another day. and he didn’t want you to know how damn desperate he was to be inside you, rutting against your butt like a’ animal in heat. he’d rather die then let you see him in such a submissive and vulnerable state, pussy drunk.

“cum for me, dearest.” he rasps, fingering you harder and deeper in attempts to push you over the edge. your orgasm takes you by surprise as he grinds hard against a very deep part of you, making you bite down to conceal your shriveled up scream. white flashes in your eye sight and you go limp, face down with your ass hanging in the air, cum dripping down your soft thighs and onto the cold concrete floor.

he pulls away with a gasp, focusing on fisting his cock now. he clenches his fist and slides it up and down at a rough pace, low deep noises leaving his throat. he positions his head right at your entrance, giving himself a few last pumps. he shoots out his load— aiming for your pretty hole, mixing his fluids with yours.

“ooh, that’s a pretty sight, doll.” he croons, panting. he fixes up his pants, watching how you lay on the floor like a dumb puppy, catching your own breath after that hard fingering he gave you.

“don’t be pathetic, dear. i didn’t even go that hard.” he scoffs, standing up to his full height, towering over you. he gives you a nasty stink eye before walking off, leaving you in your glory on the ground with your bikini by your side.

[mysouleaten]

' DOC AND BOSS ' [part two]

mafia boss! izana x doctor! reader

summary ... you find out who this yakuza member is and it brings you to shock..

warnings ... not proofread, fluff, petnames, reader is a little sensitive[me], very very pretty izana

[DOC AND BOSS masterlist]

It has been two mostly rainy days

nothing interesting has happened even with your yakuza member still recovering in your apartment

he's been a good-- no, great guest so far, his sour attitude from the day you found him has completely melted off. It was even pleasant to talk to him

both of you stayed away from the topic of 'how did you get shot?'

because you knew how, he's part of tenjiku, part of the yakuza

and it's best if you keep your sanity intact, your boss would appreciate it--a lot

but the man--whose name you still didn't know--has improved, his wound is healing nicely, no signs of an infection surprisingly, he did stay god knows how long on the muddy concrete before you found him

he was able to take small walks around your apartment but you instructed him to do so if it was necessary

if he needed anything he could ask you, but it seems he's very prideful and stubborn to ask for more help..

but right now, you and -- ...

"hey, what's your name? i sort of have been calling you lavender in my head this entire time" you questioned

"hmmm...lavender? how lovely" he replied with a cheeky smile

oh that's another thing, he's become comfortable enough to express more emotion with you, which is great--it was very awkward the first couple of times you tried to make small talk with him

"yeah, lavender, because of your eyes--but tell me your name, I want to know my patient's name," you remarked

"always so demanding, but my name is..." he seemed hesitant to tell you, his eyes even removed themselves from you--he's now looking off to the side, with a light frown on his handsome face

"hey- uh- I know- you're like in the yakuza and everything.. don't worry I won't tell your boss anything...hahah.." you tried to joke around to lighten his mood

for some reason, you didn't like his frown... it made your heart clench uncomfortably..?

he looked back over to you quickly "my...boss? hahahahaa!!" he stepped back from you laughing-- he clutched his wounded side in the process

you stared at him with bewilderment

was he...not in the yakuza? did you assume he was?? no! he was wearing the uniform! or did he? now you were second-guessing yourself...

he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and looked at your confused face with such amusement

he even laughed a little more! jerk

you huffed and turned back to the dishes, tears threatening to escape your eyes--you were always a sensitive soul..

and even more sensitive now that a very pretty man was laughing at you, oh my god you felt like a damn joke..

"hey, hey...sweetheart, what's with the baby eyes?" he came back to your side and leaned his face closer to yours

you quickly wiped your eyes with your palm and turned your head away from his gaze

izana blinked at the woman in front of him--hiding her pretty face from him

why was she crying? he didn't say anything insulting?

"hmm? are you going to tell your patient why his doctor is so moody?" izana joked

you finally looked back at him with light puffy eyes "why.. where you laughing?"

he blinked once, then twice "did.. you think I was laughing at you?"

you hesitated but nodded nonetheless

"I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing because you thought I was a servant , I'm the boss, sweetheart"

huh? servant? boss..?

"im izana, izana kurokawa, the leader of tenjiku"

.

.

.

"WHAT??"

an .. im a sensitive soul, its me.

taglist ... @firstdivisiongirl  @ureuphoriasworld @sennkawaa @haikyuusboringassmanager @izakawa @peppersapro @khfviq @mariam12344 @wutap @bontensbabygirl @m0onz1

@ilybbg @kazutora-kurokawa @riritvt @manji-hoe @kokoch4n3l

[ im sorry if you don't get tagged :( I tried my best ]

[zapreportsblog]

OH MY LORD I LOVE EVERYTHING YOU WRITE FOR ME ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Now imma bother u again lol.

I need more angst and fluff hahah sorryyy.

So another argument between the poly!volturi kings x reader where they say something like “You are my greatest regret to ever have come into my life.”

And reader burst ot in tears and she is already suicidal so yknow she just gives up, they stop her and so on. And then she Apologises or something and they say some like this.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t you dare try and apologize for something you haven’t done or anything to do with!”

Pleaseee🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈 Love ya byeee❤️❤️❤️

↱ ending things ↰

➘ summary : remember words can hurt so best be careful with what you say

➘ the volturi x reader , aro x reader x marcus x caius

➘ a/n : I did as asked….though you didn’t say anything about there needing to be a happy ending hehehehe though I gave you the closure of an apology that was the fluff part; cheers!

Within the hallowed halls of the Volturi castle, tension hung heavy in the air, an unspoken weight that seemed to seep into every corner. The kings of the vampire world, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, stood in a circle, their expressions marred by frustration and anger. In their midst stood (y/n), the human mate of these immortal beings, her eyes brimming with a mixture of defiance and hurt.

Arguing had become an unsettling pattern, each disagreement intensifying the fractures within their relationship. Tonight, the culmination of unresolved issues reached a breaking point.

"Why can't you see reason, (y/n)?!" Aro's voice rose with exasperation, his eyes aflame with frustration.

"Because this isn't just about what you want, Aro!" (Y/n)'s voice trembled with emotion, her own frustration taking its toll.

Caius, his usual calm veneer shattered, couldn't contain his anger any longer. "You are my greatest regret to ever have come into my life," he spat, his words laced with venom.

The words hung in the air like a poison, the silence that followed suffocating. (Y/n)'s eyes widened in shock, her heart clenched with a pain she had never anticipated. She felt as if the ground beneath her feet had crumbled, her world shattered by the weight of Caius' words.

Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of anger and heartbreak roiling within her chest. Without another word, she turned on her heel and fled, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she sought refuge from the pain that seemed to grip her soul.

As she ran through the twisting passages of the castle, her thoughts were a tumultuous storm. How had it come to this? The love that had once bound them felt distant and fractured, replaced by hurtful words and unspoken resentments.

Reaching a secluded chamber, (y/n) collapsed onto a stone bench, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if seeking to shield her heart from the agony that seemed to seep into every fiber of her being.

The door creaked open, and she looked up to see Marcus standing in the doorway. His expression was a mixture of regret and sadness, a reflection of the turmoil that had torn their bond asunder.

"(Y/n)," he began softly, his voice a gentle murmur, "I know things have been difficult."

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and confusion. "Marcus, what has happened to us?"

His footsteps were soft as he approached her, sitting beside her on the bench. "We let our differences and frustrations build up, and we forgot the strength of our connection."

Tears flowed freely down (y/n)'s cheeks, her emotions raw and exposed. "Caius... his words..."

Marcus sighed, his gaze distant as if lost in his own thoughts. "Caius is burdened by his past, (y/n). It wasn't an excuse for what he said, but it's important to understand that his emotions are complex."

The echoes of the argument still reverberated in (y/n)'s mind as she stepped out of the castle, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to engulf her. The cold night air stung against her skin, a stark contrast to the heated tension she had left behind. Seeking respite, she wandered through the quiet streets until she found herself on a bridge that spanned a calm river.

Perching on the ledge, her feet hanging over the water, (y/n) let out a deep sigh. The night sky stretched above her, stars flickering like distant beacons. Her thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions – anger, hurt, confusion – and they mingled with the ever-present shadow of her mental health struggles.

Gazing down at the water, (y/n) traced the ripples with her eyes, lost in the rhythm of their gentle dance. Her relationship with the Volturi kings had been a source of joy and turmoil, an intricate dance between love and frustration. But tonight, their argument had unleashed a torrent of emotions she struggled to contain.

Tears welled up in her eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of it all. She had always battled her own inner demons, the darkness that threatened to consume her. Her mental health had been a constant companion, sometimes a gentle whisper and at other times a deafening roar.

As she stared at the water, the tranquility of the scene before her offered a fleeting sense of solace. It was a reminder that even amidst the chaos, there were moments of stillness and beauty. But the struggle within her heart was far from over.

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. Her thoughts drifted to the times of laughter and connection she had shared with the Volturi kings. But they were now overshadowed by the hurtful words and the fractures in their once strong bond. She felt lost in a sea of emotions, uncertain of how to navigate her feelings.

Her mental health struggles, too, gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The battles fought within her own mind often left her feeling exhausted, and tonight was no exception. It was as if her inner turmoil had found its way into her external world, amplifying the pain she felt.

As the moonlight cast its silvery glow over the Volturi castle, a sense of unease settled within its halls. The lower guard had just informed the kings that (y/n) had left the castle, setting their hearts racing with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, Aro, Marcus, and Caius followed the scent that led them through the winding paths of the castle grounds and out into the night.

The scent was a trail of uncertainty, a reflection of the turmoil that had led her to leave. Each step carried them closer to the bridge that spanned the quiet river, and the kings felt their anxiety rise with every passing second.

Approaching the bridge, they saw her figure seated on the edge, her silhouette framed against the moonlit waters below. The wind rustled her hair, and her shoulders seemed weighed down by the burden of her thoughts.

"(Y/n)!" Aro's voice was a mixture of relief and concern as he called out to her, his footsteps slowing.

Hearing their voices, (y/n) turned to face them, her expression a mix of surprise and sadness. The sight of the three kings standing before her felt surreal, a reminder of the complexities of their bond.

Marcus stepped forward, his voice gentle. "We were worried about you, (y/n)."

Caius' gaze was piercing, his eyes reflecting his inner turmoil. "Why did you leave?"

Tears welled up in (y/n)'s eyes as she met Caius' gaze. His voice held a note of desperation that struck a chord deep within her. She had caused them to worry, to fear the worst, and the guilt gnawed at her heart.

"I needed some space," she admitted, her voice wavering with emotion.

Caius' expression softened, his concern evident as he took a step closer. "You scared us, (y/n)."

The bridge seemed to hang in a delicate balance, the emotions of the moment swirling like a storm. And then, with a desperation that seemed to pierce the very air, Caius pleaded, "Please, don't do anything rash."

His words hung heavy, the weight of his concern palpable. (Y/n) could see the fear in his eyes, the raw vulnerability he rarely revealed. It was a reminder that their bond, as fractured as it was, still held a deep connection.

"I sorry, Caius," she chocked, her voice trembling. "I sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried like a broken record.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as (y/n) and the three kings stood on the bridge, their emotions swirling in the night. Caius' plea had pierced the silence, his concern palpable, and the weight of his words hung in the air like a heavy shroud.

Caius took a tentative step forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with (y/n). His voice was a mixture of remorse and desperation as he spoke, his words cutting through the charged atmosphere.

"Don't you dare apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. This is my fault."

Tears welled up in (y/n)'s eyes as she met Caius' gaze. She felt the truth in his words, the raw sincerity of his regret. But the turmoil within her heart couldn't be silenced by reason alone, and a choked apology escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry, Caius. I'm so sorry."

Caius' frustration seemed to deepen as he closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate and careful. His voice softened, a mixture of tenderness and self-blame.

"Stop apologizing. You don't have to carry this burden."

But (y/n) could only shake her head, the weight of her own emotions bearing down on her. "I'm sorry, Caius. I'm tired."

The words were a whisper, a reflection of her weariness. The constant battles within her own mind, the complexities of their relationship – it all felt like too much to bear.

And then, before anyone could react, a shocking moment unfolded. (Y/n) stepped back, her gaze still locked on Caius, her voice trembling as she whispered, "I'm sorry," one last time.

And then she jumped.

Time seemed to freeze in that agonizing instant, the sound of her body hitting the water echoing in their ears. A primal surge of panic coursed through them, their hearts racing as they stared at the spot where she had been.

Aro, Marcus, and Caius were paralyzed, the shock of the moment rendering them immobile. The bridge that had once represented a moment of reflection had now become the stage for a heart-wrenching tragedy.

As reality settled in, Caius' expression twisted with a mixture of grief and disbelief. He felt as though his very soul had been torn asunder, his voice frozen in his throat.

"(Y/n)?" Aro's voice was a whisper, his eyes wide with shock.

The ripples on the water were the only answer, their gentle dance a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions that roiled within them.

[basilpaste]

i had a whole big idea for this, but im afraid im not terribly good at comics! or drawing fast!!! but its isas birthday!!! happy birthday!!

(the gifts are under the cut! written out!)

"Thank you! But, oh Change, you really didn't have to get little ol' me anything, ehe!"

"Nonsense, Isabeau." Odile huffs fondly. "You're part of our little team, after all. Did you think we'd forget?"

Maybe a little? You don't even entirely remember telling them about your birthday! From the look on Mira's face, though, you must have told her. It seems like she orchestrated the whole thing.

She claps her hands together cheerfully, "So! Who wants to go first!"

Bonnie waves their hands wildly, hopping up and down. "Oh!! Oh me! I want to give Za my gift!!!"

Heh! It doesn't seem like anyone's willing to fight them on it. After a moment of silence, they cheer, rushing off to heft up a small gift bag. They hurtle back towards you and present the bag dramatically.

You gingerly take the bag from them and pull it open. Inside is a-

"WAUGH?" You yelp, dropping it!

The bag falls on its side, sending the contents tumbling out. A spider?! A spider!

A... spider-shaped pin cushion.

Oh.

Bonnie lets out a long hard laugh, pointing at you, "Hahah!!! You thought it was a real spider!! Spiders don't get that big, dummy!"

"You'd be surprised," Sif speaks up, batting their lashes oh-so innocently.

You shiver. Bonnie also shivers.

"Thank you Bonbon for the pin cushion." You say, grabbing it off the ground.

... Stabbing a spider-shaped thing might feel kinda nice, actually. It was obviously a prank gift, but you'll still get plenty of use out of it!

Bonnie grins at you brightly.

Odile steps up next, bowing her head to you. She passes you a neatly wrapped box. You carefully remove the paper (its pretty!) and unfold the box.

Oh! A book!

Colour Me Curious: A History Of Colour Theory.

"Back in Dormont's House," she glances back at Sif when she says the word Dormont, you pretend you don't see, "you mentioned having an interest in colour theory. A librarian a few towns back recommended this to me. I figured you might enjoy it."

You nod rapidly. Oh!! You're surprised you haven't looked into it yet! You're not sure how you forgot! Especially considering the weird shade - colour - you all have seen! With your eyes!

"Thank you, m'dame!!" You say, trying to be mindful of your volume.

She smiles, "Of course. I'd like to hear what you take from it."

"Of course!!"

"Okay! Okay, um... me next!" Mira pulls two boxes from her dress pocket (?????) and holds them anxiously, "I shouldn't have gotten two! I don't want to overshadow anyone else! But! I think you'd like these both! So! So. I got them both! Happy birthday, Isabeau!!"

You scoop them from her arms, "I don't think anyone is worried about you overshadowing them, Mira!"

The rest of your friends hum in agreement.

"Okay."

A beat.

"Start with the smaller one!"

The smaller one turns out to be a light novel of some sort. Oh! She's talked about this one before!! How she thought you'd like it because it's super cute! You thank her and place it softly on top of Odile's gift before turning your attention to the larger box.

This is...

"Oh?" You squeak, feeling a little choked up.

"Oh?" Mira echoes, "Oh no! Do you- do you not like it?"

You grab the gift from its box, running your hand along the grain. Oh no! You might cry! Oh Change!

"Mira!! Mira this is so expensive? This is so much?" You feel unworthy to even hold it.

This is like... three meters of silk?? It's dyed such a rich lightless shade? That's unbelievably expensive!! It's beautiful and so well made that you're not sure what to do with yourself. Oh crab.

"It wasn't so bad, really!!" She yelps, worry clouding her expression.

You very softly (very, very carefully) tuck the silk back into its gift box. Then you throw yourself at Mira, sweeping her up into a tight hug. She cries out, clinging to you. And then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you thank you thank you???"

"Waaa!!" She laughs, "I'm glad you like it!!!"

"I know I know lightless isn't really your shade but you HAVE to let me make you a bow with this, Mira!!"

"Ah!! If you want to!!"

"I Do!!"

"Okay!"

You pull away from the hug, glancing back at the silk. You feel your chest swell with joy!! Oh Change!! This is so much stuff! And you're still not done!

Sif looks... a little bit nervous. They shift the box they're holding in their hands and shuffle up to you. After a moment of hesitation, he holds it out.

"... Happy birthday, Isa."

You take the box with care. It's small, but heavier than you're expecting. There's a bow on top that Bonbon snatches after you take it off. All of these gifts have been a surprise! But you're really not sure what Sif got you!

You open the box.

A piece of lightless fabric sits under the lid. It's embroidered! Not perfect or flawless, but done with care. Darkless spots are scattered on its surface and in big capital letters, it reads "You're A Star!"

Oh!! You get this joke, now! It used to only make sense to Sif but you know now!! Your chest feels light. You laugh.

"There's more." They say quietly.

You nod, gingerly removing the embroidery and setting it to the side. It reveals... a wood carving!! You pull the carving from the box, turning it over in your hands. This is you!!! It's a carving of you!!

How did you not notice him working on it??

"Sif!!" You gasp, "Sif it's perfect!!!"

"O-Oh?"

"This is beautiful!!! You made this? And the patch??"

He looks away, hiding his face in his cloak, "Um... yeah."

"I love them!" You grin so wide it hurts your face, "I love you! All of you!! This is all so... ah!! I need to start thinking about gifts for your birthdays, now!!"

"How about we finish celebrating yours first?" M'dame hums.

You feel light as a feather. You love your friends - your family - more than you can say.

[onlyseokmins]

needy • j.w.w.

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au

Warnings: swearing, teasing, dirty talk, unrealistic amt of orgasms heh, male masturbation, mentions of car sex, fingering (fem. receiving), phone sex but not like you think, messy oral (fem. receiving), safe sex 🫡, wonu's a bit of a perv tbh and reader loves puts up w/ it, mentions of children but not like really lmao, mentions of (cock)roaches, wonu in glasses and needy = double kill imho, ft. some of the boys being intrusive tbh haha, POSSESSION, and a good amt of noisy sex hahah lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 4.9k

A/N: well it's finally my first wonu fic :3 after hoarding so many in the drafts bc I always feel like I can't write him too well, I had to take the plunge since it's a dear request from my lovely @wonuhour ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this 🤞🏼 no taglist as this is a request so I hope y'all read this but sending some love to my fav wonwoorideul @wonwussy bc she said I could tag her mwah. I think I held my head 5 times while editing this haha...

It's late when you step out into the night's cool air, a sigh of relief at finally being freed from the corporate building where you work. Pulling out your phone from the bag slung across your shoulder, your face lights up just like the screen when you focus on two distinct notifications on it.

1 missed call — hubby ♡

1 new voicemail — hubby ♡

"Hey, baby. You're probably dealing with those idiots right now but by the time you're listening to this, you should be on your way back home to me."

Wonwoo's deep voice is always so soothing, filling your body with inexplicably warm, fuzzy feelings that trail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The knowledge that he pays attention to even the minute details you think he might not care about in trivial, daily conversations or complaints makes your heart flutter with joy. 

Your husband has always had that effect on you. He's aware you aren't able to pick up and it's not like he expects you to do so. Wonwoo simply leaves a voice message, knowing it will provide you comfort on your walk to the car and subsequent drive home until you can seek real solace in his embrace.

And maybe — just maybe — he calls to simply hear your pretty voice that plays on the answering machine because he misses you during your long shift. The embarrassed giggle when you mess up and stumble across your words during the recording. Never bothering to go back to change or fix it because it makes the corners of Wonwoo's mouth perk up, breaking his usual stoic expression. At least according to what Mingyu's let slip.

Which is hilarious in and of itself because your husband is anything but poker face when in your presence. His friends tease, saying he's become a different man because of you — following you around and acting like a lovesick puppy rather than his normal, self-acclaimed dignified cat persona. But you deny it. He's always been the same person with you and maybe that's just because you're meant to be.

"Be safe on your way home. Remember to lock the doors when you're inside, although I know you will 'cause how many times have you accidentally locked me out when you've beat me back to the car first?" He lets out a strangely breathy laugh, one that you mimic in fondness at the past memory and simply of him, doing exactly as he says as you shut the driver seat's door. "Miss you so, so much today. Even more than usual, baby. 'specially that sweet pussy of yours."

Nothing — not even Mingyu's weird trait of being privy and somehow knowing or aware of way too much in your relationship — could have prepared you for those words. You're extremely grateful you're inside your car right now. Not fearing other people overhearing but because you would've collapsed right on the sidewalk in public. Victim to your husband's seductive desperation.

"Can't stop thinking 'bout it. How pretty it looks, how good you taste, how perfect you always feel wrapped around me."

Your head falls back against the headrest, the hand holding your phone drops onto your thigh, and your mouth and eyes widen together in awe. The wireless buds fit snugly inside your ears allow you to pick up on the underlying slick sounds as he speaks. Your mouth waters, a sweep of electrifying energy causing the hairs on your arms to raise.

Fuck. He's stroking that gorgeous thick cock of his. Because he yearns so much for you.

"'round my fingers, my dick, my tongue… so soft and wet and tight… mhm, oh god — what a messy little thing. And your lips too, wanna kiss you so bad. For hours, non-stop."

People like to make assumptions about your relationship. Things like how Wonwoo must be the calm and collected one, the domineering and composed person within your dynamics. It's annoying but you can't really blame them — it's human nature after all. While they aren't entirely wrong, it's not like they're right either.

On the occasions when your husband's lust for you outweighs his level-headedness, he loses all reason. Not above begging, whining, or babbling nonsense, his neediness becomes next level. You're so caught up in thinking about the exact man you're supposed to be listening to, you realize you've nearly missed most of the words he's spouting in his gravelly voice. You rewind the playback.

"… to stop thinkin' 'bout it or I'll want you even more. Wanna ruin you. Destroy you. Worship you. Ah… you're in your car, aren't you love? Please tell me you are, 'member when I slipped a finger inside last week on our way home from the mall? Then two. Then three. Had to make sure my pretty baby's pussy was stuffed nice and full. It's what you deserve, after all." 

His lazy drawl and filthy words make your thighs clench. He knows it too. "Bet you're squeezing those luscious legs of yours together… ah, what I wouldn't give to have them around me instead…" A laugh again, almost a wheeze, like the air's being sucked out of his lungs at the thought. Many thoughts. "Made such a mess that day… hngh, almost wrecked the car over how wrecked you were, baby."

You glance at the empty passenger seat out of the corner of your eye. Almost shamefully, like a curious nun side-eyes a sinner sitting in church. Wonwoo's skillful and long, bony fingers buried inside your cunt — to no surprise — had you a writhing mess, an insane orgasm ripped from your body. You were afraid the upholstery was ruined because of it, the car still smelling like sex and preventing you from offering your sulky neighbor Seungcheol a lift this week.

"Bastard," you mutter affectionately and roll your eyes at your next statement, pretending as if he can hear you. "Like you weren't just as wrecked that I had to suck you off as soon as we parked and then rushed inside since you didn't wanna cum in my mouth."

"Ahhhhh, shoot…!"

As if he can hear your words, a particularly loud moan followed by a string of curses falls out of your husband's mouth. You are just able to hear the sped up sounds of him rutting more urgently against his palm. The visual of his large hands looking much smaller when wrapped around his huge cock floods your mind, wondering if he's tightened his grasp to better resemble it to drilling deep inside of your warmth instead of his hand. Eyebrows creasing together, biting down on his bottom lip before his mouth opens again in another moan that fills your ears at the right time.

The familiar creak of his home office chair causes a devious smirk to grace your face. He hasn't realized in his lust-driven state that he'd given away how desperate he really was to be fucking into his fist between freelance projects. More than likely frustrated when something wasn't encoding right after hours of staring at the screen but it was most probable that Wonwoo was simply down bad. 

Achingly missing his partner when you weren't around to rub his shoulders, bring him some tea, lighten up the mood with a bad joke, or even try and help point out a possible error with a fresh set of eyes. Even nicer, sit on his lap all pretty to keep his cock all warm and coated in wetness or get on your knees beneath his desk and try to keep quiet while you take him down your throat.

You were always a bit on the noisy side. Even now, you can't help but let out a whimper at how uncomfortable your nipples feel poking against your bra. Dampening your panties, poor clit already puffy and throbbing unstimulated.

The Wonwoo in your imagination has his head thrown back, throat presented prettily that you wish you could actually mark up. In-tune with what he sounds like when he's about to come undone, you listen intently to your husband's stifled groans and harsh pants in anticipation. Holding your breath, hoping he's so lost in bliss that he won't leave you hanging.

Like a lifeline, a muttered "fuck, baby," as if he's really right there with you in the car as his deep moan fills your ears just like it does in-person. Imaginary Wonwoo drops his head back down and the hungry look in his dark brown eyes causes your hips to involuntarily twitch, thighs trembling. Shockingly, you don't orgasm from that alone but you sure as hell were on the brink of doing so.

For a finale, your husband stays on the line while he catches his breath and your dirty mind wanders once more. Hard not to when you hear the wet sounds of his hand still rubbing his cock. A whimper of "hm, just like that," and a hiss because he's sensitive makes your head spin, cunt clenching sadly around nothing. A sob practically leaves your chest at the absolute want to milk him dry just as he wishes at that moment.

"Miss you so much. Need to eat out my precious baby. Mhm, I just know that sopping cunt is begging for me to lick it up…"

The scratch of tissues being pulled out of their holder is enough of an attempt to tug you out of the foggy cloud of lust. You lick your lips.

"… so come and hurry home safely, love."

You do — so close to cumming untouched — but you stave off the feeling, speeding home somehow without crashing. For all your car has put up with, you're honestly surprised it hasn't given out on you in revenge. But that's neither here nor there at the moment, stumbling out of the vehicle once you arrive home and scrambling faster than a marathon-runner to get inside.

It would be a lie to say you weren't disappointed with how quiet and dark it is. Quietly setting your bag down, you stand with your back pressed against the front door. Almost expecting your husband to appear out of the shadows and pounce on you.

It's happened before. You can proudly declare with your whole chest that you've fucked on every surface of this lovely little house purchased in the third year of your marriage.

Instead, something brushes against your leg and you bend down to pick up your daughter. She hangs pliantly as you gently wiggle her and whisper, "Where's your daddy?"

The cat replies with a plaintive meow. You smile when she twitches her tail, stalking off towards the direction of the living room. Wonwoo likes to teasingly say she takes after you with a distinct cat-titude despite the fact that he naturally happens to be the more dedicated caretaker between the two of you. Mingyu was always needlessly curious which one of you another cat would take after — or worse, if you had actual children.

That wouldn't happen for quite a bit, trailing behind the true ruler of the household and watching as she climbs up onto her expensive cat-tree to sulk. Wonwoo must not have given her enough attention today. Demonstrated by the angry way she squints toward the open doorway of the study illuminated by the blue glow of your husband's computer.

"Daddy's in rare form today," you try and explain, rubbing in between her ears and she purrs in response. "Don't worry, Mommy will go and fix him so he ultra dotes on you like the little princess he thinks you are." 

You make a kissy face in her direction because she is a precious royalty. Then you're approaching the study where deep grunts and muttered curses can be heard among a furious clacking of keyboard keys.

"On your left — no, Mingyu… your other left!"

Crossing your arms, you pout. You'd be lying if gamer Wonwoo wasn't unfairly attractive — jawline clenched as he barks out orders into his headset, the computer screen graphics reflecting off his glasses. A stark contrast to the ratty hoodie and old man slippers he's wearing, angrily slapping his feet on the ground when Seokmin accidentally pressed the wrong button and self-destructs.

You're glad he's blowing off some steam and stress with the boys. Though you had once asked why he didn't bother watching porn on his expensive and impressive set-up. Flattered when he admitted that having you as the real deal beat anything he could ever try to search for.

Now you're not as sure, though. He seems rather content and preoccupied after working you all up with that damn voicemail of his. With a flounce, you turn to head to the shower as your husband rages over Chan mistakenly shooting at the wrong team. Meeting a feline gaze on the way to the bathroom that shares your same sentiment of disdain.

Sticky, ruined panties cause a glare and another pout to adorn your face once the water is turned on to heat up. One Wonwoo might find cute. If he could see it. You nearly jump out of your skin when there's a knock on the door, so soft it almost sounds like a bump.

A certain kitty often bangs against doors just to startle her owners but she's also good at opening them too. When it remains shut and you hear a low call of your name rather than spooky silence, a pleading meow, or it flying open, you let out a breath of relief. Trying not to appear too eager, you crack the door open just enough to narrow one eye at your husband.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey."

Long gone is his cozy hoodie, though his black sweatpants remain on. Displaying lean, upper body muscles to ogle and pert nipples that could poke you in the eyeball with how near he is. Pushing up his glasses, he raises his eyebrows when you don't make an effort to move.

"You don't normally knock."

"I wasn't sure if it was you or our little mischief maker in here." 

"Uh-huh, and who says I'm not mischievous as well?" You turn around but leave the door ajar and he takes that as an invitation to come in.

"No one's ever said you weren't," Wonwoo reassures but frowns, "no welcome home kiss?"

"You know, little miss mischief maker seemed pretty miffed, did daddy not pay enough attention to her today? That's unlike you."

"Mhm, was busier than I thought today. Had a lot on my mind… work and all that. Absolutely drowning in it."

"Is that so? She seems pretty upset so be sure you make it up to her." 

It's like a cat-and-mouse game, though who's who is really the question. Maybe you're both cats in a stand-off. You know Wonwoo would never not truly attend to your beloved pet. You fight back a smirk, able to feel his heated gaze trail down your back and focus on your ass that you jut out on purpose to check the water temperature. A rush of fresh arousal surges through your system.

"Yeah?" Your husband's hand shoots out past yours to turn the shower off, ignoring your protest. "I think I upset another kitten too." Spinning you around so his damp thumb can pull at your bottom lip as you flutter your eyelashes at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a cat. And I'm most certainly not upset."

He pecks at your lips almost condescendingly. "Sure, baby. You shouldn't be, you know, with the nice present I left for your pleasure after work."

You let out an elated sigh as he holds your face still and peppers kisses all over, trailing down to focus on your neck so you can speak. "If that's your idea of a nice gift, I'd hate to see what a bad one is."

"You didn't like it?" Somehow Wonwoo's eyes manage to sparkle when he looks up at you with a whine, pausing his kisses down the valley between your breasts. His other hand sneakily reaches in between your legs and he smiles against your skin. "Or did you like it too much? Don't think I've ever gotten you a bad gift, baby."

Slender fingers play with your messy wetness, sliding back and forth languidly without rush. You struggle to clear your mind to ask with sarcasm, "Wh-what about that st-stupid cockroach plushie?"

"It was cute. Just like you."

"That's it, I'm getting a shower."

"I don't think so." Wonwoo's free hand flies to splay out on your back, preventing you from moving and pressing your body even closer to his.

You purse your lips, brown eyes locking in on them immediately. "You think I'm on the same level as cockroaches."

"Only like the super cute, not-real ones." 

"…We're filing for divorce right after I clean up."

"Mhm, but I'm not done with you yet so it'd be a waste of water. Besides, you hate showering together."

You can't help but grind down against his stationary palm, wishing he'd just slip a finger inside. "Because… no one's getting clean… if you're in there with me."

"Exactly," he's entranced by how much of your arousal continues to coat his hand. Cock twitching with the ache to be where his fingers are instead. "You know the drill, baby. Besides, I'm aware of how much you like it when I'm wearing my glasses."

"Wonwoo…"

He hushes your moan with a smirk and another kiss to your irresistible lips. "Yeah, lovely. It's okay, I'll give you what you want. And what I want too."

Surely, you would've bashed your head open on the tile floors had it not been for the support of the countertop you'd braced your palm on. Legs as shaky as a newborn fawn with how long you've been buzzing with desire. Especially when your husband backs away to withdraw his hand, ravenously slurping up your essence with a blissed out face. An appreciative, low grunt as he licked his fingers clean, dark gaze not straying away from your naked body before him.

"Shouldn't have done the laundry, silly baby. How else am I supposed to control myself without any sort of relief to get me through the day?"

Your jaw drops. "Pervert!"

"Know you like it." He ignores the light slap to his shoulder that bears no malice, finding zero resistance when he tugs you by the hand to drag you into the bedroom. "You love when I'm this desperate for you. Can't get anything done, can't think of anything else… all you, you, and you. And this greedy pussy."

Your back's resting on the mattress before you can blink. Wonwoo sits and parts your legs, taking in the delectable sight of your puffy cunt that spreads open to seep more arousal. Asking to be taken care of and filled.

"Just look at it, how could I not desire it every moment of the day?" A kiss is pressed against your left ankle. "When it's just as perfect as you?" Another to the side of your knee cap. "And so fuckin' addictive." He switches to the right to suck the skin on your thigh. "Absoluting begging to be filled up so prettily whenever I want." 

It's a mix between a scream and groan of frustration that leaves your throat when your husband lightly smooches right above your hip crease before licking the salt off your skin. He's so close to where you want him and he grins at your patient façade slowly slipping. His tongue pokes out, just grazing the left side of your pussy. 

"Wonwoo…!" 

He is rarely this talkative, either he truly missed you or this is a new form of torture.

A pointer finger taps your pubic bone and drags downward, lifting away before it hits your clit. "And all mine," he growls out before devouring your cunt like you want.

Your husband eats you out like a starved man. Ravenous in all the best ways. Your hips can't help but jerk in time with the movements of his tongue lapping at your inner walls and cleaning up the gracious amounts of slick you've created. Whines leaving your mouth at how good it feels, fingers anxiously threading through his curls and making them even messier. Your legs wrap around his neck as you somehow bring his head even closer to drown inside your scent, your taste, and your wet heat.

Wonwoo revels in it.

Normally, he would have more control. More strictness, more fortitude. But he's so far gone, appreciative growls that could rival the best-selling vibrator on the market shake you to your very core. The frames of his glasses dig into your thighs but you don't even feel them with the intense amount of pleasure from Wonwoo's thumb playing with your clit. His nose occasionally adds to the mind-dumbing feeling by nuzzling against it when he shakes his head with vigor.

You have no choice but to hurdle towards a fast orgasm like a dam breaking. Unintentionally locking his neck in a position that might've snapped it if his face wasn't pressed so close and into your spasming hole. Screaming his name as you tear at hair strands a bit too viciously. Wonwoo takes it all in stride, too obsessed with prolonging that delightful peak of yours to care.

Only when your legs loosen up does he back away, pride filling his chest as he takes in your shaking form. Pushing up foggy lenses, he licks his lips slowly. The damp spot shining on his chin and nose is enough of a damning visual — one that's real and touchable, not of your imagination this time — for a tiny tremor to run through your thighs again. 

Wonwoo's sore jaw drops. "Baby, did you… did you just cum again?" The cool air away from your cunt clears his vision so he can marvel at the soiled wet patch on your shared blankets. A mumbled curse leaves his mouth. 

You're a vision. Strewn across the bed, skin shining with sweat while your disheveled husband is the epitome of sex. He cracks his neck, stretching his jaw.

Thinking. 

Contemplating.

"Just from that? Hah, what am I going to do with you?" 

"Fuck me," you moan and bring your legs that feel like Jello up to your chest. Squeezing your breasts between your thighs, you pout at him and flutter your lashes. A perfect look for a vixen, pleading yet sultry. "Please."

"Shit… can't tell if you're being bad or good. Augh, the things you do to me."

"'m good, s'good for you. Want you s'bad." 

Blabbering, you watch through bleary eyes at the rapid speed he tears off his sweatpants and manage to spread your legs even farther with how numb they feel when he climbs over top of you. Lenses flash in the light at the same time as a foil wrapper before he rips it, hissing in sensitivity to slide the condom on. You're thrilled when the heavy tip of his cock slaps against your prepped pussy, ready for him to lose all rationale. You're sorely disappointed to find out your husband has a pending question for you.

"Then why didn't you greet me when you came home? Hm? Pretty baby sulking in the bathroom 'cause I was gaming with the boys?"

"Ahhh…" you shake your head urgently, nails lightly scratching his biceps, and hips lifting off the bed in a sly effort to slip his dick inside. "No…"

Wonwoo clicks his tongue, halting your movements. "No? I need complete answers, love."

You need him to lose control. Fighting back a sob, you try to shake off your fucked-out state and reply to him properly. "Wanted to shower 'nd then come in no panties, sit… on your lap." 

"Yeah? Pretty baby was gonna keep me nice and warm in that snug pussy? Like we always do?"

"Mhm," tears are streaming down your cheeks at this point, "maybe… maybe suck you off."

"Oh, wanted to choke on my cock so all those losers could hear those greedy gags of yours?"

All you can do is nod deliriously because his thick length is hot and hard. Laying outside your lower stomach exactly like it would if it was buried within you. 

Wonwoo snarls. "I think the fuck not. Absolutely not. Only I'm allowed to hear your pretty noises. Only me." He huffs, easing the tip inside finally, grunting at how you're already clamping around him like a vice. "You're made for me. All mine. No one else."

The last three syllables are punctuated by experimental, shallow thrusts to open you up for him. Your tongues tangle together as he continues to rock his hips forward, splitting you open until your pelvises kiss.

"That's it, baby. That's the sweet cunt I've been waiting for all day, dreaming of. There it is, shit! Whose pussy does this belong to?"

"Yours… hgnh, all yours… yours, yours yours…!"

"That's right, that's fuckin' right."

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose but are pushed up by your own nose when you pull him by the neck to shut him up. Barely kissing anymore, it's an open-mouthed entanglement of debauchery. Neither of your moans get any quieter, especially when he rasps in your ear to make as much noise as possible because no one's around to listen.

Wonwoo's thrusts are sharp when he does pull out a little bit. But he doesn't want to leave your warmth for even one moment, mainly grinding as deep as he can into your fluttering hole and stimulating your clit. His hands tug at your nipples, alternating between squishing and squeezing at your tender breasts. Your legs splay compliantly out at the side, letting your husband use you to his content because that's what both of your goals tonight were.

You're shamelessly screaming when his tip touches that bundle of nerves and you're afraid you might actually black out when he continues to hit it with scary precision. 

"Gonna… be the death… of me."

Peering at you over his glasses, he smirks at your weak complaint. "Says the one… that's gonna snap off my dick… shit, lovey, stop tightening up so much!"

"Can't help it, feels so good."

"I know, baby," he pants out and kisses your cheek, "I know so just bare with me a bit more." Relief floods him momentarily when your gummy walls loosen their iron grip around his cock. "That's it."

Pulling out of your squelching pussy before you can clamp around him again with only the head wrapped around so prettily by your puffy lips, he has to pause to admire it. Then he slams inside so deep that you can't help but hit that intense climax while he's still stuffing the rest of his length back in.

He coos in his low voice, coaxing you through it with an almost cruel swivel of his hips. "You can give me one more, right? I know you can, you're so good for me."

You really don't know if you could but the minute you lock eyes with him, the feral need and want in them that takes your breath away is enough. It's tinier than all the ones prior but it pleases a fucked out Wonwoo. In seconds, he's spilling his seed into the condom, still nestled within your spasming walls.

"There it is, cream on my cock, love. Yeah, there we go… fuck, baby..." he pants, a telltale sign, "that's it... so perfect."

To say you're exhausted would be an understatement. You might've actually passed out because when you come to, your husband has already wiped you down and pulled the blankets over your naked body. You weren't cold at all before but now that the tidal wave of lust has ebbed away, a chill is settling in. Your cat has snuck into the bedroom too, curled up and purring at the end of the bed on top of the stuffed cockroach plushie.

"Wonwoo?"

"Right here, love." He's laying on top of the covers and wearing his sweats again. His glasses are on the nightstand, head propped up on one hand to stare affectionately at you. "Feel okay?"

"Yeah but I'm glad I'm off for the rest of the week. You fucked the life out of me."

A smug grin graces his face. "Yeah I know. Which is why I don't understand why you just didn't wait to do laundry tomorrow or something."

"Not this again. How old are you?"

"Old enough to know what will prevent me from blowing out your back all the time." He's ready to continue with a good defense but pauses at the smile you're trying to hide. "Wait… did you do that on purpose?" When you don't reply, he groans your name. "You did, didn't you?"

"We all have our little tricks," a finger traces down his exposed pecs, "although I didn't expect such a needy voicemail on my way home, it turned out just as planned."

He halts your wrist when you start journeying down his abs. "Not in front of the child, please."

"I'm too tired to do anything scandalous," you laugh and flip your aching body over to the other side. "Wake me up in a half hour so I can shower. Alone."

"I can't believe I was set up." Disbelief drips from his tone as he sets a timer on his phone but he reaches over you to turn off the light, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Well-played though. You have a lot of free time to make up for your misbehavior, don't you baby?"

"Mhm-hm."

Wonwoo can't see the second victorious smile hidden in the darkness. Really. You're just too smart, knowing your husband so well to get what you want. 

Mingyu would be proud. And grossed out.

onlyseokmins: February 2023 ©

[goldfades]

ok LOVED ur blurb about trevor’s gf giving him head for the first time it’s doing something to me bless the anon that requested that 😵‍💫

can u write a similar one where it’s her first time giving head but maybe it’s just slightly softer, like she’s nervous and he literally talks her through what to do (“want me to teach you?” or something like that). he still has a dirty mouth tho hehe

OFC BABE, trevor is a sweetie at heart

─ warnings | NSFW! read at your own discretion!! soft trevor (for the most part), praise, slight dacryphilia???? but not really????? (big word for me lol HAHAH)

your hands slowly gripped trevor's cock, your nervous expression not going unnoticed by your boyfriend. trevor's gaze never left you as you did, his heart swelling with affection for you.

"it's okay, baby. relax for me, can you do that?" his voice came out softer than usual but it helped calm your nerves as you gave him a smile.

you gave him a nod but his eyebrows raised, wanting a verbal response from you. "yeah,"

"yeah? good girl. now just take me, as slow as you want." trevor slowly explained as you did as you were told. your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, his tip feeling heavy on your tongue.

"fuck, baby." trevor's head fell back in pleasure as he let out a sigh. "so good for me, huh, princess?"

you tried to adjust to the feeling of his cock in your mouth, feeling your eyes sting with tears. but you weren't gonna lying, seeing him so fucked out already made you feel so powerful ─ you had him so down bad with a swipe of your tongue.

"fuck, baby. use your tongue, sweetheart." he moaned breathlessly as he tried to keep his gaze at you. you began licking up and down his shaft, feeling him in all his glory. "yeah, fuck. just like that, keep going."

his hand slid down to grip your hair before letting out a groan. "shit, can you take all of me now?"

it wasn't just an affirmation, it was a genuine question. he didn't want you to feel pressured to do anything, his gaze was adoring as he looked down at you.

you gave him a nod as you wrapped your mouth on his cock, slowly taking him in deeper. trevor let out a groan, a string of curses coming from his mouth as he felt the warmness of your mouth.

"yeah, just like that. fuck, baby you feel so fucking good." he rambled on as his head fell back in utter pleasure, his eyes shutting. his grip was still tight on your hair but you couldn't care less, making him feel so good made you feel good in return.

you bobbed your head up and down his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you gagged. but you kept it up until you felt his grip tighten and then pull you off.

"please," you whimpered breathlessly. "i can swallow, promise."

trevor let out a cocky laugh as he heard your pathetic whines, his cock got harder at the thought. "shit, you sure?"

all he needed was a feeble nod and his cock was back in your throat, your head bobbing up and down subconsciously at this point. and as quickly as you got back inside of your mouth, he was cumming with a loud groan.

you tasted the salty taste of his cum and you moaned as you swallowed as much as you could. trevor wanted to pull out his phone and take a picture of you, you looked so fucking hot with your fucked out expression, spit on your cheeks and chin and especially the tears running down your face.

"fuck, baby. you were so good." trevor praised as he gripped your cheeks and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. "so good for me, baby."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

☆There's No Place Like Home☆

Episode 1: A Warm Welcome

[Pilot]

《You are new to this... Neighborhood? Where the hell are you?》

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @ partycoffin 》

-

Furiously wiping at your eyes, snot running down to your chin. You try to control yourself when realizing that the voices didn't sound like they were gonna hurt you.

"Oh, dear!"

"My goodness!"

"Are you alright!?"

Shaking like a leaf, you gaze down at the rainbow-colored pieces of paper falling down your shoulders.

"Wh-hat?"

You choke out, feeling spit and vile in the back of your throat.

"Neighbor, are you alright?" A soft voice questioned you, gazing up at...

That is not a person. What are you even looking at?

A yellow fleece-skinned puppet with blue hair styled into a tall, spiraled pompadour and 70s clothing greets you. He kneels beside you, reaching out a yellow hand to your back, rubbing it up and down gently.

His expression was rather calm than frightened of your well-being.

You wanted him to back away and didn't have the energy to shove him if you were honest. It felt like your skin was saggy and your bones turned into juice.

"I'm so sorry Neighbor, we didn't mean to frighten you. Right everyone?" The male puppet says, looking at the other puppets that stared at you with worry.

"O-oh, yes!" One of them rushes to you, causing you to lean back. "I'm so so so sorry! We didn't mean to come in without asking! Of course, we scared you! Poor thing!" The pink fleece-skinned skinned puppet exclaimed.

"Julie, maybe give them a bit of space, you're invading it." Another voice pipes up behind the female puppet. A gray puppet pulls the girl back by the arms gently.

"Oh, right!"

"What are you?" You whisper, and your pupils were blown out with fear.

"WHO. Are you?" You ask more loudly, catching the colorful group off guard.

"I forgot! Introductions are in order!" The pink puppet proclaimed.

"My name is Julie! Julie Joyful, oh, this is Frank!" "Frank Frankly."

"I wanna go next!" A voice boomed, and another puppet appears in your line of vision. "My name's Sally! Sally Starlet! And I'm a star!" She flaunts good-naturedly, her eyes bright with energy.

"Oh, I forgot!" Sally pulls a giant bird with rainbow feathers, a caterpillar-like puppet, and a mailman puppet toward your supposed "group".

"This is Poppy, Eddie, and Howdy!" They smile at you kindly before Howdy pulls out a cake, (from seemingly out of nowhere.). He holds it out with a smile with his multitude of hands.

"We brought a welcome cake from my bodega! We hope you would enjoy it," Howdy said showing it out to you from your position on the floor. The cake was layered with white frosting and rainbow sprinkles slathered around the giant frosted words: Welcome To The Neighborhood.

Little signatures surround the bottom of the bolded words. "Oh.. Thank you..? That's very, uhm, sweet."

You pause, recalling your words in your head and becoming quiet.

"Hahah! Good one bud'!" A big blue puppet dog laughed, slapping his paw on his knee. His laughter was contagious as the rest of the marionettes giggled along.

"You're gonna' fit right in! Names, Barnby B. Beagle, your new Neighbor."

The dog winked, holding out his hand for a shake. Yet moves his hand away when he pulls the yellow puppet from beside you. Holding him by his armpits and showcasing him like a shiny trinket. The blue-haired puppet seemed unfazed and still had his soft expression.

"This nice 'fella here is Wally, a real Darling! Hehe, a pal of mine! My best-est buddy, and hopefully, your's too!"

Why did it feel like this was a commercial or a horrible skit you weren't in on?

"It's lovely to meet you, Neighbor," Wally replied.

You nodded, looking away from his eyes and focusing on the cake.

You felt better than earlier when you thought you walked into some murdered party or cult-type thing. But was it worse than talking puppets without strings?

You aren't sure yet?

Was this cake even real? Was any of this real??

"W-ell, thank you for the hospitality. But this isn't my home... I'm not even sure where this place even is?"

The puppets grow quiet at your words. Their confused stares made you uncomfortable and queasy. "This is Home, where inside your Home silly! Isn't this all your stuff?"

Poppy points out, gazing at the clutter of unopened boxes and furniture.

"Hmm, they must have forgotten. Moving is tricky business, especially on short notice." Frank states thoughtfully.

"N-no that's not-"

You feel your tongue become limp and your eyesight blurring into meshes of color.

"Are you okay, Neighbor? I bet all that stress of moving got ya' pretty tired. C'mon, let's eat some cake!"

Barnby states, letting go of Wally and helping you up.

Everyone cheers as Sally goes off to find cutlery in one of the boxes. Howdy places the cake on a table hidden away in a corner while Eddie and Frank round up any chairs they could find.

Wally pulls out your seat like a gentleman, handing you a plate of cake as everyone chats and eats

-

[Taglist closed]

@tearjerker666 @trzppyghxuls @cookieswithay @luna-charlie @isometimeswritestuff @kazi-pop @lightspectre-universe @jjowithastar @smilingfox22-blog @jayysnotjoyful @cadaverous-coop @heather-hutchcroft @camilo-uwu @pauldanosbandonedirection222 @sweetheartturtle2007 @pretty-please-just-let-me-sleep @welcomehome102

[Hiya! Thank you guys so much for such the positive comments! I need some more, I crave. Readings ya'lls reactions are the best and make it easier for me. Thanks! Art is always appreciated!]

[loumoonie]

FEEL SO HIGH SCHOOL | Oliver Stark x YN

PT1

THE SUN REPORTS

is YN in her lover era AGAIN?

"The singer appears to have entered her Oliver Stark era following her recent breakup with longtime boyfriend Nicholas Galitzine. According to reliable sources, their relationship blossomed when the '911' star publicly congratulated her on her world tour announcement. Since then, they have grown closer and have been taking things slowly. The actor has expressed a desire not to rush into anything."

----------•----------

----------•----------

▪︎THEYN

liked by tpz, sabrinacarpeter and 6,277,280 others

I didn't get the game but I get the drink

sabrinacarpenter: yes sisss 🥵

olivfromnine11: stay away from him slut

bestofoliverstark: @olivfromnine11 people like you need to shut the fuck up.

ynmylove: my mother is just having the time of her life

moonlar: I really do not think oliver would date her if that was true

View all 22,377 comments

▪︎OLIVERSTARK

liked by aishahinds, ryanguzman and 577,280 others

A Lovely night

aishahinds: we love uncle oliver

ryanguzman: I can't believe you guys went without me

buddieislife: ryan's comment made my day!!!!

justastanofstark: he doesn't even post her hahah

View all 7,213 comments

---

Here you have :)

PT2

[lovrily]

hey there!! could i request another shy!reader with steve where they are just friends and he likes her but steve gets hurt and the reader takes care of him and he's surprised by it? not even related to the upside down necessarily it could just be something normal hahah. thank you!!

yes ofc!!! thank you for requesting!! fem!shy!reader | 1.5k words | cw: minor burns

"you have to put the car in drive to drive it, steve."

robin's voice pinged in his ears. damnit. he yanked on the gear shift, one foot on the brake, and was met with resistance again.

"i'm aware of that, i assure you."

"are you gonna put it in drive then?"

"it's stuck, robin. seriously?"

his head snapped to her in the passenger's seat, an incredulous look painted all over his face. robin blanched, but her resolve remained; she glared at the gear shift, and then up at you in the rearview mirror.

"he didn't say that, did he," she retorted.

all you could do was smile.

steve felt you watching as he and robin bickered about what to do with the car. you were stagnant in the parking lot of the movie theater, little round lights bordering the film posters reflecting off the hood of the BMW. he took robin and yourself to see labryinth, which he had not been excited for and was not impressed by. but the two of you had been eager to get tickets, and you seemed to like it.

tense as you were in the backseat with all the arguing going on, he could see that one expression glaze over your eyes. sometimes, you got this look on your face, steve noticed- when something had just happened or you had just seen something that excited you. you replayed it in your head, in your own little world. you must have really liked the movie, then.

your eyes met his in the rearview mirror and he tore his gaze away. it wasn't like him to be nervous around girls, of course (kind of), and it's not that you were entirely different- girls didn't have to be different for him to like them, but you were you, and it was impossible for him not to treat you differently.

steve didn't just like you. this was something else entirely. but the only times you ever looked him in the eye for more than a moment were by accident, and you rarely spoke more than a few sentences to him without suddenly realizing he could hear you, and going quiet.

he let robin finish her tangent about how the car would still work if he 'stopped ramming it into park when it was still rolling forward', and then it was silent. steve watched the corner of your face from the side mirrors and was relieved to see your expression calmed once the two of them stopped yelling.

he hadn't expected you to suddenly start looking at him or talking to him in one night, but, fuck, he did want you to enjoy yourself. he just wanted you to have fun and not get all nervous when you had no reason to, and he couldn't even pull that off. shouldn't it have been simple? he knew you well enough to know what set you off.

"alright," he rambled off, popping open his door. "i need to look at the radiator cap. i'll be back."

the key beeped in the ignition until he dropped it into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. it hit him like a brick, instantly, and he dragged his hands over his eyes. idiot, why'd you slam the door?

it was too late to do anything about it. steve rounded the front of the BMW and opened the hood, a wave of heat rippling across his face. it was the dead of summer, the back of his neck already clammy, and he was so nervous about getting you and robin home without having to flag down the box office lady that he thought he might suddenly understand how you seemed to feel all the time. it was exhausting.

the sound of a door closing was distant to him as he reached into the guts of the car and unscrewed the squeaky radiator cap.

scalding hot liquid shot out of the valve instantly. it grazed over his palm like a bullet, leaving a raw streak in its wake. steve cursed, clamping the cap back onto the spout and screwing it shut until the flow of coolant stopped; escaped droplets leaving tiny, round wells of flesh all over his fingers.

he heard you inhale and knew it was you. jesus. his nerves flared hot as the coolant, and he squeezed his jaw shut to prevent from shouting in your direction. his first instinct was to curl his hand into a fist and ball it up tight against his chest, which was a massive mistake-

"no!" you blurted, darting over. steve was already cursing by the time you peeled his fist away from him, the burns appearing like ribbed stretches of plastic. "oh, god, don't do that."

"sorry," he breathed. "fuck."

your eyes flickered up to his, wide and confused. "why would you be- is this the only big one? the one in the middle?"

you pointed at the wide burn across his palm, still holding his hand in yours like a snow globe or a porcelain mug. something heavy and fragile. he gawked at you, a little stunned, skin still searing.

"yeah," he breathed. get it together. "yeah, yeah, it's fine. that's it. the other ones are..." he gulped, "small."

he swallowed in between the words, surprised at how badly the tiny burns on his knuckles could hurt; surprised by how close you were and how intense your expression was as you studied his hand. your skin was soft. he was almost positive he'd never been this close to you before, and you were so focused.

"do they hurt?" you stiffened. "of course they do."

"no," he blurted. "no, i mean...they're alright. not that bad."

they were bad. they hurt, so bad.

you glanced up at steve and he grinned.

"i can't even feel 'em. seriously." he spread his fingers apart. "look how thick my skin is."

"that's ridiculous," you mumbled.

you took his other hand and placed the burnt one gently in his grasp before letting go and poking into the backseat of the car. he glanced around, like he'd suddenly lost his balance, floored at your eagerness to help. when you returned with a napkin and a water bottle, he stood straight up, swaying casually on his feet.

"playing doctor?" he murmured, watching you as you took his hand from him and splayed it open in your own.

the way you looked up at him, eyes wide, would have been enough to knock him over had he not braced himself for some sort of reaction as soon as he said it. it was too brash, too overt for you; of course your cheeks and ears went as hot as the radiator.

"sorry," he shook his head. but that was essentially an admittance that he was flirting, and he couldn't have that, so instead he said, "you're a good doctor."

you inhaled and gave a stern look at his hand, but he heard your breath shake.

"i am a good doctor."

you poured water over the small burns on his fingers, turning his hand over slowly and softly rolling his knuckles over and forward to make room for the liquid. when you wet the napkin and placed it over the widest burn on his palm, he exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes up at the sky. your eyes flew open.

"i'm sorry. you have to cool it off to help it."

"ouch."

"i'm sorry," you repeated, a little more urgent. your gaze was frantic when he glanced back down, and guilt spilled into him as if a dam had been broken. his lips quirked into a bemused but sad expression.

"you don't have to be sorry. you're healing me."

you snickered, and he followed the sound; tilting his head when you glanced away.

"that's a bit much."

"this is better than anything i would have done. or robin. she would have told me to peel the burns off, probably."

you actually laughed at that, his hand bobbing up and down in your own. "actually, if they were..."

you stopped. there it was- as if you suddenly realized he could really hear you when you spoke.

steve didn't follow the sound this time. he just watched you, unsure of what to do yet, unaware of the adoration written all over his face. and you were shy; not stupid. you saw it. so you kept going, encouraged.

"if they were worse, it might have been better to peel some of them off. but i'm glad we don't have to. they aren't too bad. i'm sorry the water was painful."

it wasn't an overly romantic or important line to close with, but it was the sentence that you started, and steve was just pleased that you finished it instead of going quiet. he watched you, like an image passing by.

"you're nice," steve said. "too nice."

his breath separated the hair at the top of your head, your nose close to his chest; his hand still in yours.

a honk sounded from the car like shattering glass. you tore your hand away; the moment over but not forgotten. the glare steve shot robin was faster and more scathing than any coolant or bullet.

steve opened the door for you and slipped into the driver's seat, sighing.

"i got it!" robin burst. "i just had to pull on it a couple times. it's fine, i think. for now."

he regarded her with a locked jaw and flared nostrils. she merely snapped what? in return, sinking into her seat.

steve didn't see her wiggling her eyebrows at the two of you in the rear view, but you did. his grip on the steering wheel relaxed when he heard you laughing softly from behind him.