#if they have been done before i apologize
Note
This made me sick to think about so maybe you would like it. Sorry this is so long 😭 but my brain worms were at it.
Three months later, Pup reader eventually going into a catatonic state. You stop eating so the handlers eventually put you on an IV and a feeding tube, but when you stop moving, they worry your muscles may start to atrophy. You have already developed sores but still don’t move.
One of the handlers goes rogue and calls John. His number was still on your paperwork when he surrendered you. The handler asks John to reconsider without mentioning what’s happening. He stands firm and says no, just assuming that someone must have returned you back to the shelter. He knows you’ll find a home eventually, but he had enough to deal with at home.
Meanwhile, Simon, Johnny and Kyle are pissed. The new pup John had got was a handful to say the least. Three months of correcting the pup’s behavior over and over again. She was too rambunctious. Not docile like you and didn’t respect boundaries. Where your playful nips at Johnny’s arm would barely register, hers were sharp and painful. She constantly got in whatever bed she pleased and took whatever resources she wanted.
Kyle just relented he became so annoyed, only showing his teeth in warning. Johnny would straight up shoulder check the pup.
Things eventually come to a head when Simon straight up attacks her. He was having as PTSD episode and pup thought it would be a good time to jump on him while he was asleep.
The attack luckily didn’t injure her too badly, but after that she wasn’t submissive, she was aggressive. To everyone. The other pups and even John. Snapping and baring her teeth. It wasn’t until her teeth made contact with John did he realize something needed to be done.
So he called Laswell. She knew the pup needed a female presence and her and her wife were happy to help.
A month passes since the phone call from the shelter. The boys were even more tense than before the other pup left. None of them wanting to be around each other more than necessary. John knew what he had to do.
So he called the shelter, asking had you been adopted yet. An awkward pause before the volunteer on the other line says they need to get their supervisor.
Supervisor informs John that you stopped eating and moving. Because the volunteers could only do so much, they had to put you into a facility that could better help with the long term care you would need.
John is able to pull some strings and get in contact with the facility.
Option 1:
When John goes to the facility, you don’t snap out of it. You don’t believe he’s really came for you. Not when he puts the collar back on your neck or has practically carry you to the car. Not even when the boys surround you, sniffing and pawing.
John has to hand feed you. Even then the boys take over with that, now hating John for what he did to you.
You eventually “come back”, but the fear is always there. You don’t go outside without the boys and you’re always afraid to be alone with John. Forget car rides. The last time you were due for a check up, even having everyone in it did nothing to help your panic attack. Pleading not to go back to the shelter. That you’ll be good. John can hear your soft cries at night before one of the boys eventually crawls in your bed, promising to not let you go again.
Option 2 (I’ll make this short I promise)
The facility didn’t intervene when it came to you wanting to die. That was your choice and the resources couldn’t be wasted. So when John receives a very sincere apology from the facility coordinator that you had chosen to be on the euthanasia list, he is in consolable.
However, a vet tech sees how adorable you are and just can’t let that happen, so they call their cousin.
Zeus was looking for a new pup for oversized hounds to play with.
König all too happy to have a new playmate. He and Nikto often fought over who you would be sharing a bed with before finally just laying down with your in yours. In the middle of the night, Horangi would pull you out of the pile and take you to his own bed.
You eventually started to come back to life. The boys weren’t the same as your other ones, but it was still nice.
John tells the boys you had already been adopted, too afraid of what the truth would do to their dynamic. He has to forever live with the guilt of thinking you had died.
let’s go with option one
c/w: mentions of abandonment trauma, hybrids
there was a period of time where john lost hope that you would get better even after he bought you home. it certainly wasn’t going to stop him and the boys trying, however. john knew how much he’d fucked up when he heard the boys sad whines and yowls when he walked through the door with you
johnny instantly got to work making a nest in the space under the stairs. a cozy dim light hanging above a big pile of duvets and blankets, soft pillows that smell like them. john would give you space as the boys trap you in their arms, scenting over you and nuzzling into your skin until you smell like them again :(
they hold you when you cry, placing kisses to your shoulders and cheeks and the top of your head whisky you let all your sadness out. sometimes, you push them away. wailing that you don’t want them near you right now but eventually you let them back in to cuddle you. you feel weak but you’ve been so lonely and you’ve missed them terribly despite what they did
thinking about how the grief you had been dealing with had thrown your body right off track. not having a natural heat cycle until a good few months after returning home. you didn’t allow any of them in the room with you during that cycle, despite how kyle and johnny whined at the door, begging you to let them come in and take care of you
their whining didn’t last long when simon comes over and snaps at them, telling them to leave you alone whilst the sulk off with flattened ears
it had taken a while for you to warm up to john again. he understood completely. he had completely shattered your heart and trust in them. he wouldn’t put your collar back on until you were completely okay with it. he wanted you to ask. wants it to be something that you want
he begins to think you’ll never forgive him until one night you shuffled into his room nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of you, “can I sleep in here?”
he’d hoped you would at least sleep in his bed with him. let him snuggle you under his big plush duvet and scratch your scalp until you fall asleep but he understands. it’s baby steps. at least now you’ll actually be in the same room as him one on one
#mw2#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#captain john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish#pup!141#owner!price
993 notes
·
View notes
Text
keishin finally (finally) gets you into bed with him—well, onto couch with him, in his little one-room apartment in the back of sakanoshita mart—and he thinks all his prayers have finally been answered. thinks he's found some sort of cosmic apology for every misfortune he's ever suffered in how soft your lips are against his and how sweet you taste.
he knows he doesn't deserve this; that he hasn't done anything in his unremarkable life to merit how good you feel underneath his hands, or how dizzying those little noises you're making when he touches you are. but, against all odds, you're really here, you really want him, and he's determined not to fuck this up.
"keishin."
every time you say his name he feels like he's hearing it for the first time. like he's being blessed by it. it takes him a moment to process the way you've called for his attention as he suckles a little bruise against your throat, using every modicum of will he has left in him to pull away and meet your gaze.
you look so good underneath him on his ugly, ancient couch that it makes him ache. your lips glossy and swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded and yearning. you reach up and touch his cheek, and he can't tell if your hand is cool or his face is burning.
"do you have a condom?"
and all at once keishin comes crashing—violently, disastrously, crushingly—back to earth.
he blinks at you, wide-eyed, in the wake of your question. you seem to understand his answer even though he can't bring himself to say it.
"are there any in the shop?" you ask him, optimistic and gentle, with an encouraging smile.
keishin perks up—visibly brightening at your moment of genius—but as quickly as the hope uplifts him, he's deflating again. he pinches his bottom lip between his teeth.
"we're out right now," he murmurs sheepishly, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.
he only keeps a couple of boxes of condoms behind the counter at a time, since so few people ever come in asking for them. last week takinoue had showed up half-hammered two hours after closing, and banged on the shop door until keishin grumpily answered it. his drunk friend went on to explain that he'd gone out drinking with his colleague from work and she'd invited him home with her, but he desperately needed condoms. keishin chucked the last box at his stupid face, and yusuke swore up and down their next night out drinking would be his treat before skittering off into the night again with a grin from ear to ear.
he was going to kill yusuke with his bare hands the next time he saw him.
"keishin, it's okay," you say with a light laugh at the positively crestfallen look on his face. "we don't have to—"
"no!" keishin interrupts you before you can say the words he just cant bear to hear. not right now. not from you.
even if you promise him that this could happen again another time—that you don't have to go all the way tonight, that there will be other opportunities—he has no way of knowing if that's true. no way of guaranteeing it.
he's got a taste for you now. he knows what you sound like. he knows how you feel.
and he refuses to let this opportunity pass him by.
keishin pulls himself upright so quickly from where he'd been hovering overtop of you on his lumpy sofa that he almost gives himself whiplash. he stumbles up to his feet, brushing his bleached hair back from his eyes—he's not sure where or when he'd lost his hairband, but the strands are hanging freely now and falling into his gaze. he grabs his jacket from the floor where he'd hastily shucked it when the two of you stumbled through the door in the throes of passion.
"I'm just gonna run to shimada mart!" he says to you as he stuffs his arms ungracefully into the sleeves of his jacket, his words so frantic they're almost bleeding together. "it's only about 10 minutes away, if you just wait right here—"
"keishin."
"shouldn't be longer than 25 minutes! 20, even! i might even be able to get macchan to drive me back if—"
"keishin, wait."
your laughter makes him stop dead in his tracks, halfway to the door. he's only got one slide on his foot, the other still sock-clad, and in his haste he realizes he'd grabbed his television remote instead of his cellphone to shove into his coat pocket.
you've caught him by the sleeve of his jacket, holding the material pinched between your thumb and forefinger as you stare up at him from the sofa with the sweetest smile on your face. he's frozen as he peers down at you, his lips parted, his dick still half-hard in his jeans.
"don't go," you say to him, tugging him back towards you by your grip on his cuff. he moves easily, gravitating back into your orbit in spite of how gentle the actual pull had been.
"b-but,"—keishin casts a forlorn glance back in the direction of his apartment door—"what about the condoms?"
his voice cracks a little on the question and he has genuinely never wished so ardently for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
you release his sleeve in favour of twining your fingers with his now that he's near to you again, your soft hand slipping easily into his own. that same dull ache in the pit of his core (and between his legs) throbs again as you blink up at him.
"i've been trying to tell you," you begin, a bit exasperated but not without its own fondness. you hesitate a little, looking away shyly before adding, "we don't... need one."
keishin thinks he might die.
really, genuinely die.
he wonders if maybe this is what the old man felt like when he almost keeled over from that heart attack last year, because keishin's pulse is pounding so violently in his head he feels like his vision is going a bit spotty around the edges—like when you stand up too fast after a night of drinking.
he's brought back to the moment as your hand squeezes his own—a gentle, questioning gesture.
your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, your head tilting slightly to the side. you smile a little at the dumbfounded look on his face.
"...if that's okay with you?"
(keishin pays for takinoue's drinks for the next six months, but never explains why.)
487 notes
·
View notes
Text
song worthy - jang wonyoung
genre; smut
pairing; show-goer!wonyoung x rockstar!female reader
content; set in the mid 2000s, cigarette use, mentions of wiccans/witches (wony being referred to as a witch at times), still channeling the inner dirt-bag/rockstar core (claiming it <3), rockstar!reader x show-goer!wony. smut; switch wonyoung/reader, cunnilingus (both giving/receiving), fingering (both giving/receiving)
synopsis; wonyoung gets stoped by the frontwoman of the band that's been making a buzz lately and gets offered a deal she can't decline, especially not with the mutual desires that linger in both of their gazes.
wc; 5.4k
masterlist
a/n; this is from a scrapped story, but enjoy!
Y/n’s cold hand dug into the pocket of the black leather jacket before taking out a wrinkled and soft pack of cigarettes. Another sniffle followed, her nose cold as she took one out and put it between her lips, eyes woefully looking at three cigarettes left and no money to buy more.
“So much for being a performer.” She mumbled as the money her band earned was close to nothing. The impulsive decision of dropping school to pursue a band with her friends was biting her in the ass. It felt impossible to do anything right for the forlorn singer who had been negative about her life since the day she was born.
She put the pack back, searched for the zippo, and groaned when she realised that she had thrown it into the van earlier after lighting her previous one. Her friends were already gone after leaving her behind since she couldn’t crash at theirs; the girl having no place to stay the night at.
The streets were half empty, people passing by and minding their business and cars speeding along the road. She held the stick between her glossy lips, looking around, hearing sirens somewhere in the distance, being well aware of how unsafe this area was and it did make her anxious—at the back of her head which she ignored.
The wired headphones blasted Jennifer’s Body by Hole and small stones dragged along the wet concrete behind her. Y/n looked back to see a girl walk out from behind the alley she had come from. Unaware of the frontwoman’s presence since her gaze was on the ground beneath her platforms.
Y/n quickly took the cig out of her mouth. “Hey, hey, wait up!” She called for the stranger, almost stumbling over her duffle bag as she caught onto the girl’s bare arm, stepping over the bag in the process and managing to stay on both feet.
“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” She harshly exclaimed, yanking her arm out of the band member’s grip. Her eyes were hard at the sudden and blenching intrusion that made her back up a step. The girl’s eyebrows raised into a frown as she looked over at the lead singer who was looking back at her.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but I just need to borrow a lighter–if you have one on you that is.” She quickly spouted out an apology, noticing she scared her. Y/n’s eyes searched for why the girl seemed so familiar.
It clicked for Y/n when she looked over at the inch-taller girl. She had seen her in the crowd the past two shows and she remembered because she had a face and style hard to forget. The girl who had just raised her voice at her came as more than a poser. She was dressed in black fishnets with ripped sheer tights under, a small top, exposing most of her skin and a mini leather skirt with a studded belt.
A silence followed after the apology as the taller girl sighed through her nose with fingers looking through the black Rachel bag. She took out a pink bic and Y/n almost in haste grabbed it as she finally had something to light the cigarette with.
“Thank you,” she muffled out with the cancer stick between plump lips. Her hand came up to cover the side where a gentle yet cold breeze blew at them so the fire wouldn’t blow out. With that she ignited it and inhaled, filling her lungs with the smoke as the tip caught an ember before it turned to ash, burning along the white.
The girl watched the girl she knew as Y/n, the lead singer of the band that just performed.
“Were you at the show?” Y/n questioned her while handing back the lighter, sticking her right hand into the pocket of the leather jacket to keep herself from getting even colder. The taste of the smoke was strong on her tongue, the cheap cigarettes had to suffice as she could not afford any better brands. Not like she had money for a nicotine addiction–not having money for a place to live–but it was too late for consideration.
“Yeah…” She simply confirmed.
Y/n nodded at that and her eyes trailed along the slim figure in front of her and they only stopped on her thighs. She pointed down at her thigh with her head, blowing the smoke to the side while flicking at the cigarette between her fingers. A garter on the girl’s left thigh with a pentacle.
“Are you Wiccan?” She questioned, knowing enough about the pentacle to know that Wiccans who often identified as witches used them although not all witches were Wiccan.
“You’re the first one to ask me if I’m Wiccan and not Satanist…But yes.”
Y/n hummed and looked back up from the garter with the steel pentacle. “They usually use an inverted one.” She pointed out, knowing better than to assume the girl was Satanist as they usually used inverted ones. The two had significantly different meanings to them.
The brunette tilted her head, dark hair falling down her shoulders and over her pale skin that was illuminated by the shitty yellow lights that went along the sidewalk the two girls stood on.
“So…This is where you offer me a cigarette, rockstar.” The girl said, doing a once over at the lanky musician. Their eyes met, both having slept in smudged eyeliner although the proclaimed Wiccan could see the tiredness and bad nights of sleep on the other girl who chuckled and took out the cigarettes.
“What do I get for a cigarette?” She questioned her and the latter raised her eyebrows as she looked at Y/n who tilted the pack and showed the content inside, three sticks pathetically waiting to be smoked.
“Only have three left so it’s a big offer.” The singer added. She usually wouldn’t offer or give anyone cigarettes if she only had two or three left. Especially if she had no money.
“You get the honours of being a kind human being.” She gave the only thing she had to give as she toyed with the lighter in her hold, igniting it and letting go. Her eyes came up and looked at the girl in leather who hummed unsure with smoke coming out of her nose, catching the little shining gem on Y/n’s left nostril.
“What’s your name?” Y/n asked.
“It’s Wonyoung.”
She nodded at that, the lead singer still needed a place to stay the night and the weather was turning colder as it was close to being 2:30 am. She took another quick drag and blew out the smoke before licking her lower lip which tasted of vanilla and tobacco.
“Okay…What would I get for a cigarette and two tickets to the show next Friday, Wony?” She offered Wonyoung.
The tickets were somewhat expensive, around 20 bucks, 10 for entrance to the club and 10 for the band's show. Expensive or not, Y/n saw no reason for Wonyoung to deny because who said no to free tickets? She always carried a few on her as they at times worked like money. Aside from the duffle bag filled with clothes and another pair of shoes, they were her most prized possession at the moment.
The deal was made as Wonyoung’s fingers nimbly reached for a cigarette from the pack as she spoke. “What do you need?” She asked before putting the stick between her plump lips, covering it from the wind and lighting it with the pink bic. Her gaze came back up to Y/n after as the smoke they blew out trailed away from them.
“A place to stay for the night…I have the tickets in my bag.” Y/n pointed to the bag behind her feet while hoping that the newly met stranger would let her crash. In the end, she seemed harmless as she was hot and liked their music if she had shown up to three shows. It wouldn't be Y/n’s first time crashing at a stranger's place.
“My car is parked right there…I live along the boulevard.” Wonyoung said and pointed along the sidewalk where a black sedan stood. That was enough for Y/n to turn around and get the duffle bag.
Wonyoung eyed the lithe girl who turned her back to her. At the moment her confusion was how the whole idea seemed ludicrous because why on earth did the frontwoman need a place to stay? She didn’t ask though because she felt like it wasn’t her business and neither did she judge. In the end, she got two free tickets and the band’s lead singer all in the deal. The new sex symbol among showgoers. There was no need for complaints.
“Let’s get going then.” Y/n sighed, huffing as she slung the heavy bag over her shoulder while ignoring the pain of the strap straining through the leather jacket and against her shoulder.
Wonyoung led the way as they walked beside each other, the heels of their chunky boots dragging along the wet concrete, unconsciously kicking at small pebbles as they approached the car.
She opened the BMW E36, the lights blinking as the locks released and Y/n put the stick between her lips while opening the back seat to put her bag inside while the witch got into the driver’s seat. The doors slammed closed after them and the frontwoman got into the passenger seat in the front as Wonyoung started the car.
“Are you like a fan or something?” Y/n curiously questioned once she was settled, glancing at Wonyoung while slightly rolling down the window to let out the smoke just like the driver's side window was down. It let in the cool breeze and prevented the smoke from lingering longer than needed.
Wonyoung scoffed out a short laugh at the question, the singer rather fixated on her being a fan because she was going to let her stay the night. “Tickets to big bands are too expensive for me and there’s been a buzz about your band…You take what you can.”
Y/n laughed at the reply, eyes crinkling as the grin stayed until it turned to a softer smile. She shook her head and reached into her pocket once more with her free hand, throwing the butt of the cigarette out the window.
The speakers in the car played the album Paranoid by Black Sabbath, the CD case lying on the dashboard with a few other cases. Y/n took out the stolen MP3 from her pocket, not having money to buy a device that expensive she found a different way to get one. With that, she turned off the music and the blasting from the wired headphones stopped as she took them off.
“I can’t deny that you guys have great songs and you, a great voice.” Wonyoung complimented as even if the band was just a try after hearing the buzz about them, they did catch her attention because it was just what she liked. A mix of grunge, alt, heavy metal and punk rock with lyrics sung raw and with emotion.
She ashed the cigarette out the window while looking at the girl who reached into the back seat, blatantly, not minding that she was in a mini skirt and Wonyoung did not mind it either as her eyes beckoned at the exposed skin of her long legs and further, getting a glimpse of the black lace underwear.
Y/n let out a breath, Wonyoung’s eyes went back to the road when she sat back in the seat after shoving her headphones into her duffle bag. The car smelled of cigarettes and sweet vanilla, and there was a faint smell of strawberries as there was an old and aired-out car freshener hanging in the rearview mirror shaped like a strawberry with its colour drained—from how old it was.
The dark-haired girl looked at the driver of the car as she rested her cheek against her fist, elbow resting by the window that let in cool air.
“You have a quite soothing voice,” it was almost like a purr coming from Y/n, complimenting Wonyoung’s voice. It made a smile grace her lips as she glanced at the singer, flicking away her cigarette.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Wonyoung stated although there had already been a silent agreement between the two of them when they first looked at each other and Wonyoung agreed to let Y/n stay the night.
There was no denying the mutual attraction that came from looks to music taste and demeanour.
All Y/n did was shrug while Wonyoung sped through the almost empty street. “You did say you liked my voice and I thought you knew that we would share a bed tonight.” She leered out, pointing out the obvious as neither was going to let this opportunity slip.
There was a hot girl dressed in grunge, driving Y/n to her place.
A hot lead singer was asking to crash at Wonyoung’s place.
Wonyoung sniffled, Y/n’s eyes catching how her pierced nose scrunched up before trailing further down at the nipples protruding through the thin black shirt. Her skin was catching goosebumps from the breeze let in through the windows.
“It would be quite nice to hear a lead singer’s voice under different circumstances.” Wonyoung beckoned, welcoming to the idea the singer in question brought up.
Y/n bit her lower lip and Wonyoung’s eyes landed on her once again, the two constantly glancing at each other. With each glance a heat grew in the cool air of the car, a tension thick enough for a knife not to be able to even cut through it.
The sexual desires grew with lust hazing in the air, growing like a fog in the morning as Planet Caravan started to play. A fixated look as she trailed her eyes up the exposed stomach of the singer. The light pink butterfly navel jewellery with three dangling gems was just one of the things that caught Wonyoung’s attention.
“And to see the hearts.” She added, seeing the two heart shapes protruding through Y/n’s shirt. Y/n looked down at her chest, the two piercings with heart-shaped jewellery outline showing through the small tee.
A sly grin came onto the frontwoman’s lips, tongue poking at her canine as her eyes attended to Wonyoung’s body. “Might make you a fan tonight.” It smugly left her lips and Wonyoung chuckled, turning the car and slowing down as she drove into the neighbourhood with fingers tapping against the wheel.
The two were getting jittery and wanted to make it to the apartment as quickly as possible because their sexual desires and lust would suffocate them both soon enough.
“What if the roles get reversed?” The witch questioned as she parked the car, stating the possibility of the vixen in her passenger seat becoming the fan tonight.
The vixen in question let out a breath, questioning herself if she was in love with the woman who parked the car. It wasn’t love—the two of them were just horny and found each other hot in so many ways.
“Then there’s gonna be trouble.” Y/n gave a heads-up, opening the door just like Wonyoung did as they both got out. Doors slammed closed as the lithe girl opened the backseat and quickly got her stuff.
The door shut and the car got locked, the bag being slung over the almost sore shoulder once again. Y/n’s eyes looked around the empty neighbourhood as everyone seemed to be asleep at around 2:30 am. Her eyes landed on the two-story apartment building with an external staircase that they were heading towards. Everything was a luxury for the singer who did not have a place to call home yet after getting kicked out of every place.
“Do you often let band members stay the night?” Y/n asked, looking up at Wonyoung who walked ahead of her on the stairs, catching a glimpse of her ass covered in sheer tights and fishnets. The shaking of the metal stairs resonated through the empty night, leaving an echo as their heavy boots collided with them.
“I’m no groupie…You were just convincing enough, hot too.” Wonyoung replied over her shoulder as she didn’t bring any band members home. This was the first one as no one in the other bands had stood out like the girl behind her who made the small stage her playground while delivering vocals with emotions and different techniques depending on the song.
It felt almost weird for Wonyoung to hear the singer talk as her voice was contrasting to the one she sang with. She’d sing and vocal fry, but spoke in a tone that made it hard to believe she was the same person. It left her more than intrigued and needy for more.
Y/n smiled at the reply and they reached the second floor and the first door right by the stairs. Wonyoung took out the keys to the door from the small purse she had and inserted the keys into the lethargic keyhole. The door jammed as she twisted the key and bumped it with her shoulder for it to budge open like she always had to open it. With that, she managed to push it open fully and stepped inside, grabbing hold of the wall to remove her boots.
“Where’s the bedroom?” The question left Y/n’s lips the second she stepped inside and closed the door after her. The cursed duffle bag fell to the wooden floor with a loud thud and Y/n somehow managed to pry her heavy boots off her feet, each one falling to the floor with a thud.
The one-bedroom apartment was dark as the brunette hadn’t turned on any of the lights and instead grabbed the arm of the leather jacket. “Right this way, star.” Wonyoung’s tone was torrid as she pulled Y/n after her, walking through the open kitchen and living room. Guiding her the short distance from one door to another that she pushed open.
The bedroom was merely lit up by the lamp posts and other passing lights outside that were gandering through the creaks in the blinds.
Y/n shut the door with her foot and Wonyoung turned around, her eyes murky with lust as she looked at the girl. Her hands clutched onto the lapels of the leather jacket, pulling the frontwoman into her whose lips parted right away when they met Wonyoung’s.
It was almost tacky how sloppy the kiss got as their slick tongues met—the two loved it. The singer's barbell was pulled at and brushed against Wonyoung’s teeth. Slender hands ran to the back of the witch and grabbed hold of her ass under the mini skirt, gripping the warm and soft flesh between fingers that threaded through the sheer tights and fishnets.
Wonyoung pulled her closer, breathless moans falling from both girls as she stepped back, pulling Y/n along while tilting her head, her tongue toying with the hard barbell.
The kiss tasted of vanilla, strawberries, and cigarettes, lip gloss mingling, making Y/n pull back and capture Wonyoung’s lower lip. She sucked on it, tongue dragging along her lips until Wonyoung’s legs hit the bed and Y/n’s hands came up to her small tee. She tugged it over her head, discarding it to the side before shoving Wonyoung to sit on the bed and hastily removing her leather jacket.
The heat coursed their bodies, everything going south as it throbbed with need between their legs. Y/n’s hand threaded into dark waves as she tilted Wonyoung’s head up, capturing the plump strawberry-tasting lips, pushing the girl back until she had her lying down on the bed.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” That gruffly voice came out from the singer, close to the one she would sing with and Wonyoung’s chest heaved as Y/n’s wet lips ran down from her lips. Kissing down to her jaw almost heedlessly with how messy it was, panting hot air against her skin.
“I’ve left your last two shows all wet because of how hot you’re on stage,” Wonyoung admitted, lost in the moment when lips wetly trailed down to her chest. A gasp fell from her lips at the teeth grazing her hard nipples before getting engulfed in Y/n’s warm mouth. It was enough to make her hips buck at the throbbing between her legs, Y/n’s one hand roughly grabbed hold of her skirt, bodies almost flush against each other.
“You sure you’re not a groupie?” Y/n humidly chuckled against Wonyoung’s chest before burying her face in the breasts, nipping and sucking at the ample flesh. Faint and needy moans fell from Wonyoung’s lips as she looked down at the band member with her hand in her hair, pushing Y/n further down.
“Mhm…” Wonyoung breathlessly confirmed and Y/n dropped onto her knees between the girl’s legs on the hard and cold floor. “Never planned on actually fucking you.” Yet here she was, about to fuck with the vixen she only thought of fucking.
She bit her lower lip, hips lifting off the edge of the bed where she was lying when Y/n hooked her fingers under the skirt and every other piece of clothing. The two were too eager to wait around, wanting nothing more than a taste of the Hellmouth they both were entering through for the night.
Y/n yanked at the clothes, hearing something rip in the process as she pulled them off of Wonyoung’s legs before she dropped the tights and skirt onto the floor. The brunette was left naked on the bed. Her pussy dripping with need just from the rough and messy handling by the lead singer who kissed her warm thighs.
Y/n grabbed hold of Wonyoung’s right leg who hooked it over her shoulder before slumping back down onto the bed. Her eyes were on the dark ceiling as her chest heaved before she closed her eyes and drowned in the kisses that were being scattered along her inner thighs.
Y/n pushed Wonyoung’s other leg further apart, her eyes landing on her dripping cunt and her fingers eagerly came up to her puffy pink folds. The girl’s lips parted with a gasp at the cold fingers that ran through her lips, gathering the slickness and spreading it up to her clit. The small nudge on the bundle of nerves was enough to make her let out a vague whine with thighs tensing up.
She coated her fingers in Wonyoung’s slickness, spreading her lips with them as she moved forward and kissed the fleshy mound, feeling how Wonyoung stifled her hips from bucking. The brunette's warmth was becoming a sopping mess, the slickness running down to the sheets as Y/n pulled away with her mouth and wetted her lips. Her eyes fell on the clit she revealed by spreading her open with two fingers.
“Oh–I’m gonna make you fucking dizzy,” she muttered under her breath, lips attaching around the swollen and slick clit—followed by a sharp suckle and flicking of a skilled tongue.
It was enough for Wonyoung to moan, the action being so precipitous that her chest tightened at the gasp she let out, hand flying into the dark hair and fingers tangling in it as her back arched before she slumped back with her other hand clutching onto the sheets.
Y/n savoured the taste on her tongue, massaging the clit with her tongue, Wonyoung continuously let out small whimpers and gasps as her hips rolled into the girl’s face unable to lay still at the pleasure running through every nerve in her body. Her blood running warmer and making her body heat up even more.
Y/n’s fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh that rested over her shoulder and pulled her closer to the throbbing cunt. She moved her other hand away from the thigh she was holding onto to keep Wonyoung from closing her legs and moved it down.
Among the sucking and flicking at her clit, Wonyoung’s stomach tightened in anticipation when she felt two fingers caressing her clenching hole. Y/n brushed her middle finger over it, the wetness letting her easily slip her finger into the warm and tight wetness. Her walls throbbed around her finger as she decided to push in a second one, both fingers getting sucked right in by the girl’s tightness.
“Y/n—” Wonyoung moaned, hand tugging onto her hair, making the latter moan against her heat, working her tongue faster on her clit.
“Fuck.” She breathed, Y/n’s fingers pressing and caressing her g-spot in a way that was making her thighs spasm and the orgasm quickly build up. Her hips pushed more into Y/n’s face, her pussy squelching from how sopping she was, the warmth around the fingers inside her squeezing as her whole body slowly tensed up. The occasional brush of the barbell against her sensitive clit was making her light-headed and whiny.
“Oh fuck—” It hit Wonyoung so quick, her words fading as she let out a harsh gasp, eyebrows furrowing and mouth falling slack as she arched her back, the back of her head pressing into the mattress. Breathless whimpers and whines fell from her lips as her body convulsed at the orgasm that hit her, being enough to make her ascend for a second before falling back down to earth.
Y/n slowed down, pulling out her fingers as she dipped her head to lap everything leaking out of her grasping hole.
Wonyoung heaved for breath as her hot body relaxed with her heart pounding, enjoying the last of the slick muscle cleaning up the mess she was made into. Y/n hummed and pulled away, taking her fingers covered in the latter's juices into her mouth and cleaning them up too.
Her leg came down from the shoulder and Y/n pulled back, grabbing the hem of her tee and pulling it over her head. The small piece of material got thrown to the side before she stood and Wonyoung sat up.
The brunette’s grip was harsh as she grabbed hold of the meagre wrist and pulled the girl onto the bed. Y/n’s back hit the soft mattress as she pushed herself up with her head on one of the pillows. Her eyes barely being able to focus because of how uncomfortable the heat between her legs was as Wonyoung crawled over to her and settled herself between her legs.
Her limber fingers ran along Y/n’s thighs as the witch bit her lower lip, looking at the latter’s chest with two pierced nipples, adorned by heart-shaped jewellery with light pink gems just like the ones in the navel one. Contrasting from the dark grunge clothes she’d dress in.
“I’m gonna have you running back for more…” Wonyoung mumbled, her fingers hooking under the skirt and pulling it down Y/n’s slim and bruised legs, discarding the piece of underwear in the process too.
“What do you need me running back for, Wony?” Y/n questioned as the girl on top leaned down, resting her arm beside Y/n’s head. Bodies pressed into each other, the gems of the piercing rough against Wonyoung’s nipples and she chuckled.
Y/n caught the taller one's lower lip and sucked on it with her hands wrapping around her shoulders. “Free tickets—” She breathed out, kissing down the defined jawline before dipping her head and kissing under it. Her fingers sneakily ran along Y/n’s inner thighs, the wetness smeared and thighs tensing around her body. “And good sex.” She finished while humming when Y/n tugged at her ear with her teeth.
“Better make me feel as good as music does then.” A shaky breath followed Y/n’s words, the puff of air hitting Wonyoung’s ear and making her shiver—her fingers running through the wet folds. Wonyoung’s mouth trailed kisses all over the lead singer’s neck, leaving it wet while her fingers worked to gather the wetness to the bundle of nerves.
Y/n’s hand grabbed hold of the dark hair, pulling the girl back up as their lips met. It was as messy as before, slick tongues pressing as they both tilted their heads to get more of each other. The whimper from Y/n was muffled by the mouth sucking on her tongue when Wonyoung circled her clit with her fingers. Softly she continued to circle it; teasing as the frontwoman’s hips continued to buck in need.
She got what she needed and wanted as Wonyoung dipped her hand, swiftly pushing two of her fingers into the tight hole. She pulled away from Y/n, licking up the string of saliva between their lips as she watched the lead singer let out a whimpering moan that was light at the two fingers that started to move in her.
Wonyoung worked her fingers, flicking her wrist as her palm met the slick and swollen clit, pressing and rubbing. The two long fingers engulfed in the snug pussy rubbed at the soft and spongy g-spot.
Y/n’s grip tightened in Wonyoung’s hair, hips rolling into her hand and the girl between her legs pushed herself up. Her eyes fell between their bodies, the sounds were lewd from the loud and very vocal vocalist and the slickness of her fingers dragging along the warm throbbing walls.
“I’m not sure where you sound better, Y/n.” Wonyoung let out a satisfied hum and bit her lower lip.
“Wony—” Y/n stopped and her chest heaved, the said girl stopping her movement for a split second as the heat on top of the singer disappeared together with the two fingers deep in her.
Wonyoung pushed herself down and got down on her stomach. It was as if her mouth was watering, seemingly deprived of sex and she inserted her fingers back in. “Fuck that’s good.” Y/n hummed, Wonyoung licking up her slit before circling the clit, both of the girls rolling back their eyes—one in pleasure, the other at the addicting taste.
Her head tilted, flicking her tongue as she wrapped her lips around Y/n’s clit, fingers still driving inside the tight hole. Y/n’s back arched, hands tangling in Wonyoung’s hair as her hips moved into the warm mouth, the tongue slick and scalding against her cunt.
“Shit—I’m gonna write a song about your mouth–oh fuck.”
Wonyoung smiled at the words, doing her best to pleasure the lead singer with her mouth and fingers after getting an orgasm that made her feel like she ascended for a second. The slim thighs spasmed around her head and she reached her other hand up, cupping under the supple breast that fit right into her palm. Her fingers, toyed with the piercing and nipple as she worked her tongue harder against the clit between her lips.
She could feel the walls tighten around her fingers, making her press down on the soft wall and continue the movement of her tongue. Fingers pinching and tugging at the hard nipple as Y/n let out whiny and light moans. The mess grew bigger on the sheets with each second, spit and slick covered her chin as her mouth worked sloppily on the girl’s cunt, making it so much more lewd.
Her thighs quivered at the warm tongue dragging and flicking over her clit. It made her head buzz at how deep she could feel Wonyoung’s fingers inside her heat unable to stop how she clenched around them with every movement. The slurping of the girl’s mouth was barely making it to Y/n as her ears grew muffled, not being able to think about anything but how good it felt.
Heat shot through her whole body as her legs tensed up around Wonyoung’s head, the orgasm running through every part of her body as Wonyoung only stopped once she was heaving under her just like she had done. She pulled her fingers out of the pulsating walls and licked everything up before pulling away, clearing her fingers with her tongue too while sitting back on her heels.
“Song worthy?” She questioned with a sly smirk and Y/n hummed, pushing herself up and grabbing hold of Wonyoung’s wrist. “Totally, but this whole night is gonna be song-worthy.” She let the girl know, making her straddle her thigh, the wet heat pressing against the skin of it. Their lips met once again as she gripped Wonyoung’s hips, guiding her to roll them.
masterlist
#ive smut#ive wonyoung#wonyoung smut#wonyoung x reader#jang wonyoung#jang wonyoung smut#ive imagines#ive x reader#kpop girl group imagines#kpop gg smut#gg smut#girl group smut#wlw#wonyoung x female reader#ive x female reader#smut#kpop smut
231 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Devil is Real (Part 1)
Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?
Word Count: 4.2k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.
I hope you guys like thrill rides :3
The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail
April 22, 2008
Sis,
I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!
With all my love,
Vince
You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.
This letter, however, says otherwise.
“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned.
You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.
“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.
Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”
“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!”
You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.
Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other.
There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?
“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”
“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”
You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone.
“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen.
Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.
“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”
“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.
“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food.
“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.
“And who’s going to watch André?”
André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.
“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.
The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.
May 15, 2008
Vince,
First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.
Sis
May 31, 2008
Sis,
I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!
Vince
You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.
The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.
Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”
Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”
You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”
You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”
“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”
“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”
You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”
You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”
You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on.
“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.
You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.
“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”
“If you say so…” you reply softly.
You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.
“Hey Sis, we’re here!”
After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.
“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”
“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.
You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.
“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it.
Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.
“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”
Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”
Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.
“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.
“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.
“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.
“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”
“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”
You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.
“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.
“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”
“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”
“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.
“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.
“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.
“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”
While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.
“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”
Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”
“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”
“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”
You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.
“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up.
“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”
Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.
“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building.
Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.
“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”
There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.
You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.
Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.
“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”
Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”
The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you.
As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.
Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”
For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief.
Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”
“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.
Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…
Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.
“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”
The man nods, “sí, claro.”
Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”
“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.
You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.
“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”
“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”
“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.
“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”
“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”
“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”
Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”
“Thank you, Father.”
She is perfect.
Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.
Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.
His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#plagas!leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#dead dove do not eat#dead dove#gigabyte writes
227 notes
·
View notes
Note
Write one where Paige & reader get into a heated argument lots of angst happy ending
From Ashes to Affection ; Paige Bueckers ﹒⟢
꣑୧ — summary | you and paige were known for your self-deprecating jokes towards one another, but after tension builds and threatens to boil over, will your relationship spoil or will you manage to save it?
wc ; 662
— warnings | swearing , arguments , lots of angst but w a happy ending (yay) massive tw : self deprecating joke about anxiety
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : ooof I feel like I haven’t been writing as much angst lately so it was very fun to write ! enjoy ◡̈
After a long week of final exams and nights filled with books sprawled across your desk, you took the opportunity to spend the eve of the incoming weekend with your girlfriend Paige.
Your differing schedules and commitments had left tension to build for weeks, simmering beneath the surface until it finally boiled over. It started with a harmless comment, a joke that was meant to be lighthearted, but it was taken the wrong way, triggering a chain reaction of hurtful words and unspoken frustrations.
Paige knew how much you struggled with your anxiety, it was something that had plagued you for a majority of your life. You two had always made self-deprecating jokes at one another, the atmosphere was light and loving, giving you hope that maybe you were moving past the rough patch of your relationship. All until…
“Well thank god having bad anxiety isn't an olympic sport because you'd definitely have a gold medal.”
You felt your heart sink, you felt tears threatening to spill out of your eyes, due to the shock at the words the blonde had just said.
"I can't believe you would say that, Paige," you said, your voice filled with hurt. "I thought you knew me better than that."
Paige's expression hardened, her own hurt turning into anger. "Maybe I don't know you as well as I thought," she retorted, her words cutting like a knife.
The argument escalated quickly, both of you saying things you didn't mean, words fueled by hurt and anger. Before you knew it, Paige was storming out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered remains of your relationship.
You packed a bag, leaving your promise ring on the bedside of the blondes bedside table, and headed towards your best friends house in order to calm down.
Days turned into weeks, and despite your best efforts, the rift between you and Paige only seemed to grow wider. You missed her more than words could say, missed the way she would smile at you, the way she would hold you close when you needed comfort. But you couldn't bring yourself to reach out to her, to try and mend what was broken.
And then, one day, you received a letter from Paige. In it, she poured her heart out, apologizing for her part in the argument, for the hurtful things she had said. She admitted that she missed you, missed the way things used to be between you.
Torn between anger and longing, you found yourself faced with a choice. Could you find it in your heart to forgive Paige, to try and rebuild the trust that had been shattered? Or was it too late for the two of you, the damage done irreparable?
With a heavy heart, you penned a response to Paige, laying bare your own feelings and fears. You admitted that you missed her too, missed the way things used to be. But you also expressed your doubts, your fear that history would only repeat itself if you were to reconcile.
Weeks passed, and as the days turned into months, you found yourself thinking more and more about Paige, about the possibility of a future together. And then, one day, you received another letter from Paige, this time with a different tone, a tone of hope and determination.
"I understand if you can't forgive me, can't trust me again," Paige wrote. "But I want you to know that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to prove to you that I've changed. Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you read Paige's words, words filled with sincerity and love. And in that moment, you knew that despite everything, you still loved her too. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your pen and began to write, ready to take the first step towards healing and forgiveness.
sorry for the short post my loves !! ive been super burnt out from writing and have been suffering from writers block so I hope y'all enjoyed this one <3 as always, thank u sm for reading !
#wlw#wlw imagine#wcbb#my hcs#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#headcannons#wcbb x reader#uconn wbb#paige buckets#uconn vs iowa#angst#positive mental attitude#mental health#anxi4ty
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
| enhypen when… |
they want you back
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
inc: requested, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluffy endings, some nonidol!au, situationship (riki), food (heeseung), getting drunk (sunghoon), long distance (jungwon)
ೃ⁀➷ lee heeseung
ੈ♡˳ you didn’t expect heeseung to break up with you so suddenly, especially just a week before what would be your 3rd anniversary. he insisted it was for your sake, that he didn’t know if he could ever make you happy with the way his schedule was working out, that he wanted you to find someone better than him…
ੈ♡˳ he just so happened to dump you right before a tour, so trying to work things out was out of the question. this meant that he had left you to deal with your emotions with nothing but a bowl of ice cream and whatever tv show could get your mind off of the breakup. and to say it worked would be a lie.
ੈ♡˳ you spent months on end in a slump, and it wasn’t exactly like you could just open your phone to get away from reality when every other post you scrolled past had that handsome prick dancing in your feed. it felt like the universe was mocking you. you swore you hadn’t smiled since the day he dumped you…
ੈ♡˳ when that fateful phone call came, you were so glad you didn’t ever block the number. heeseung sounded regretful, asking to meet you in person for a conversation. as he finally saw you for the first time since the breakup, it was clear that he realized what he had done to you, dumping you the way he did.
ੈ♡˳ “listen, i’m sorry… breaking up was a bad idea and i should have talked to you before making such a big decision… i still love you, baby, and i want you in my life.. will you please come back?” he asks, holding out his hand. you reach out your hand to intertwine both of your fingers, your lips curling into a smile as you tearfully nod your head ‘yes’.
ೃ⁀➷ park jongseong
ੈ♡˳ it wasn’t like it was a decision you wanted to make, but jay clearly had other priorities that outweighed you. he tried to talk you out of it at first, but after hearing your feelings and thoughts, it looked like he realized just how much this must have been effecting you, and let you go.
ੈ♡˳ nearly 3 years after you two called it quits, you saw jay’s ever so recognizable face literally everywhere. but you didn’t feel upset, not at all.. it seemed that those years of training and practice finally paid off, and you were happy. maybe that break up was the right decision for him, he got what he wanted.
ੈ♡˳ you were standing in line at a cafe, stepping away from the counter to find a table when you crashed into another person. immediately you begin to apologize at the same time, but you recognize that voice anywhere. behind the cap and mask, you make eye contact with the same eyes you hadn’t seen in 3 years, “jay..?”
ੈ♡˳ of course, you end up at the same table, jay insisted he had time to spare and wanted to talk to you. his face has matured, but that’s the still the same jay who you used to see nearly every single day. after some catching up on both ends, jay clearly has something on his mind that you press him into expressing.
ੈ♡˳ “i have never stopped thinking about you, never… i did this all for you. i was so scared that i would never see you again, y/n… i don’t ever want to not see you again, you know?” he begins to ramble. “jay, are you sure we can…” you begin to ask, but he nods before you finish. “they lifted the ban… please, come back to me…?”
ೃ⁀➷ sim jaeyun
ੈ♡˳ it broke jake’s damn heart to break up with you, but he just couldn’t risk it… he didn’t blame you for your less than amicable reaction to the break up, but he still insisted that this decision wasn’t out of malice. words were said that you both regret, but in the end, jake always deeply regretted letting you walk out.
ੈ♡˳ his world literally became dull, his only light left in his life was of course his precious puppy, but not even performing was making him as happy as it did before. it was noticeable to literally everyone, to the point that his managers were telling him to either shape up or go into hiatus, and at this point, what did he have to lose?
ੈ♡˳ he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at your contact like it would make you materialize out of thin air if he stared hard enough. finally, he gathered his courage and clicked the call button, holding the phone to his ear. to his shock, you picked up after the second ring, “jake…?” and your voice is like honey in his ears.
ੈ♡˳ “oh, y/n… i… i don’t know where to start.” he admits with a nervous laugh and he drags his hand down his face. “let’s start with why you called.” you say in the voice that always walked him through any problem. “i… miss you,” he starts and clears his throat, “i shouldn’t have ever broken it off.”
ੈ♡˳ “you’re right…” you say, jake can hear that damn smile. “can you please come over…? i’d be a shitty boyfriend if i asked you to come back over the phone.” he says, slipping out the word before he even fully realized what he was saying. he hears your giggle, and it feels like the color comes back to his vision, “i’ll be over in ten.”
ೃ⁀➷ park sunghoon
ੈ♡˳ you didn’t know what switch had flipped in sunghoon to make him change so suddenly, but all you knew was that this wasn’t the boy you fell in love with. when you told him you were leaving him, it was like he didn’t care, he just scoffed and waved you off, “fine, leave then, you weren’t ever gonna stay.”
ੈ♡˳ safe to say it was a bit of a messy break up, you are sure he still has some of your clothing that you hadn’t dared to ask for back. whatever had come over sunghoon, it wasn’t worth pestering him over a couple of t-shirts. you weren’t scared, just frustrated, you wanted to know why he had such a drastic change.
ੈ♡˳ seeing him around campus felt like you were walking on eggshells, whichever new girl was trying to persue him constantly gave you stink eyes like they were trying to impress him (which only made you more confused because he certainly didn’t want them), and you started to wonder if there was something more…
ੈ♡˳ that is until sunghoon calls you at 1 in the morning of all hours, waking you from a deep slumber. you picked up the phone out of pure curiosity, hearing obvious faint party chatter, “sunghoon?” you ask, hearing a mumble on the other end and a shaky deep breathe, “y/n.. i’m sorry… i love you, babe…”
ੈ♡˳ “sunghoon, you’re drunk.” you stated the obvious, but he kept talking. “i know, fuck i know.. i’m being a damn idiot, baby please listen… i love you and i never stopped. please babe…” he muttered, slurring his speech. how can you tell if this is sincere…? you sigh and rub your temples, “call me when you’re sober, sunghoon.”
ೃ⁀➷ kim seonwoo
ੈ♡˳ with sunoo, the break up was out of left field, you swore you both were on a great path, you barely fought and not a thing was causing problems in your relationship, or so you thought. sunoo swore it was just so he could keep you out of the trouble that is life in the public eye… but you could see in his eyes it was more.
ੈ♡˳ it was so much worse not having closure, for all you knew, sunoo just decided to dump you and lie about it while holding back his own tears. all of it was enough to make you wonder if someone made him do this.. his company, his management? but even in that case… your love wasn’t grounds to ruin his career.
ੈ♡˳ you supported him from a distance, as painful as it was seeing your now ex constantly on a big screen, knowing that you could help him in some way was enough to bring you comfort. for all that your friends knew, you were just a very loud and proud sunoo bias. to be honest, you were, just not for any old reason.
ੈ♡˳ you almost dropped your phone when you turned a corner only to run into someone, who quickly grabbed your shoulders to steady you. “are you alright ma’am-?” he asks, and as soon as you looked up, you were face to face with sunoo’s equally shocked expression. “y/n…? holy shit.. i-i…” he looks on the verge of tears already.
ੈ♡˳ before you even say a word, you bury your face back into his chest, embracing him regardless of who saw or tried to snap a photo. much to your relief, you feel him hug you back, burying his face in your hair. “oh my god, i.. y/n, i can explain myself, will you let me?” he is frantic, but with a smile, you shush him and nod your head. “yes sunoo, let’s go somewhere quiet.”
ೃ⁀➷ yang jungwon
ੈ♡˳ jungwon is a smart guy, you’ve known that ever since you met him. that being said, you would never want to stand in the way between him and his education. that’s why when he was offered an abroad study opportunity, you swallowed your feelings and told him to go. it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.
ੈ♡˳ the goodbye was full of tears that even his parents couldn’t hide. he swore that he wasn’t ever going to forget about you, he would never replace you, despite how much you wanted him to move on with his life. little did you know how much you meant to him, and how those years of studying didn’t feel so worth it.
ੈ♡˳ for years it was just him, he barely made friends and whenever he called it parents, it was obvious he was not happy. they urged him to message you, even they could see just how happy you made their son if it was to the point he couldn’t focus. jungwon finally caved one evening, sending you a message and breaking that one promise.
ੈ♡˳ ‘i know you told me not to message you, but god y/n i can’t do this anymore, i miss you too damn much. it hurts going every day without you, i don’t want to keep living this way. i know you didn’t want long distance, but i can’t do this without you. please will you consider? i love you.’ he sends, setting his phone down and groaning.
ੈ♡˳ it’s a long and painful silence before he finally heard his phone buzz, snatching it up and reading the response from you. ‘jungwon, i thought you would never ask… i love you too baby, ill wait 2 more years for you.’ and with that text you sent a photo of yourself. with that one message, he felt like everything would be okay…
ೃ⁀➷ nishimura riki
ੈ♡˳ the best way to describe your and riki’s relationship would be something akin to a ‘situationship’. you both did couple activities that normal couples would do, going out on fun dates and sharing a few kisses; but at the same time, he never outright called you his girlfriend, or him your boyfriend.
ੈ♡˳ it wasn’t any surprise to anyone you both knew that the relationship was in a constant state of turmoil, with you both constantly calling it quits only to hit eachother up like nothing happened the next week or so. safe to say it was getting toxic fast, and even if you didn’t know how riki himself felt, you felt terrible.
ੈ♡˳ so you broke it off, telling him that this arrangement was permanent and final, and that little punk had the audacity to laugh and say, “you’ll come back, you always do.” to your teary face as you stormed out of his dorm. but you were determined to stay gone, and for weeks, you were… the longest you had been.
ੈ♡˳ you didn’t entertain a single text or dm, you avoided him like the plague and deleted every photo of him on your phone, but you still felt like complete garbage… riki made you happy even when you felt so disposable to him. in the midst of one of your depressive bed rotting episodes, you heard a knock.
ੈ♡˳ needless to say you didn’t expect mr. nishimura himself standing there with a reasonable sized bouquet of your favorite followers, and for once in his life, he looked sad… “i realized i’ve been treating you like shit lately… i’m sorry, i want to be serious with you y/n.” he says, and he felt an immense joy as you leapt into his arms.
bang bang bang i’m so back baby, requested by anon, i hope you like it! 😚😚 not yet proofread whoops
#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fanfic#enhypen reactions#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#heeseung imagines#jay park imagines#jake sim imagines#sunghoon imagines#sunoo imagines#jungwon imagines#ni ki imagines
177 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected Surprise
Summary: While attempting to gain the support of the vale, jeyne arryn has plans of her own for the prince.
r.q: Everyone forgets house Arryn😔🤘🏻 baddies of the vale Can you write something w Jace and an Arryn maybe lady Jayne’s little sister or daughter or something? Not a totally unreasonable alliance !! They have the coolest castle and knights also Ms Aemma Arryn ™️ like hello!! (I’m impatient as hell for more Vale coverage in season 2)
w.c: 900+
c.w: baela and jacaerys are not betrothed, arryn!reader jenye’s daughter, FLUFF, just a very cute fic, drabble, not proofread
a.n: IVE HAD THIS DONE SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR NO REASON OMGGGG but with the recent jeyne content i felt inspired to write this !! just something super simple <3 HOPE YOU ENJOY !! LOVE UUUU GUYS
masterlist - requests open
“Im sorry, what my lady?”
“I wish for you to marry my daughter.”
This is not how jacaerys thought this would go. When he arrived in the vale he thought he thought he would have to make simple small talk, present some of the benefits, hells even throw some complements her way in order to convince her. This however had not been in his cards.
“I'm sorry my lady i do not understand.”
“My daughter, y/n remains unmarried, around your age, a sweet girl, agree to wed her and me and my men will bend the knee.”
He blinks. He has no clue what to say to her. Jeyne stands after a moment, “I shall go fetch her.” He watches as one of the guards tries to stop her and tells her he will go retrieve the girl but Jeyne seems determined to go herself and he moves letting her leave. Jacaerys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room unsure of what to do.
He is not too sure he can just flat out agree to a proposal without his mother position, it is not like he is a second son, he is the heir to the queen. The next king, his wife to be the next queen. Yet when he sees you walking into the room, wearing a long dress in your house colors with your mother trialing behind with a pleased look on her face he finds himself wanting to agree to the marriage right away.
You are stunning. Easily the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, sure he hasn’t seen that many women but it doesn’t matter. He watches as you bow and mindlessly nods in acknowledgment, unable to take his eyes off you.
Jeyne looks between the two of you with a satisfied look. “Why don’t you show the prince around?” She gives you a pointed look to which you nod, “Of course i would be happy to.”
He walks over and offers you his arm with a smile on his face and you graceful take it before you begin to walk off with him. Jeyne stays behind and smiles to herself.
“My mother is very forward i apologize to you.” He simply shakes his head, he finds himself look at you instead of the halls he’s supposed to be looking at. “It is not an issue my lady, I rather appreciate it.” You look at him curiously but turn away once you notice he is already looking at you. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Many people speak in riddles, not saying what they mean or truly want, your mother is a rare gem.” You smile at the praise of your mother, “She truly is.”
You lead him outside and begin to tell him about the different plants and different sculptures around the courtyards. He is so charmed by you. The way you light up when you spot something and you begin to tell him of a memory you have, like how your mother scolded you for jumping around in the fountain, or when you almost fell out of one of the window's when you fell asleep.
“You truly love this place.” He can tell. The way you smile at the guards as they walk by or the way you know every detail about everything in the walls. But he sees the way you falter slightly at his words, “Am i wrong?”
You shake your head vigorously, “no no i do, its just i have never been away from here. My mother is a very protective woman, she waves away any suitors, she never even lets me leave the eyrie it is ridiculous!” You realize you're letting your emotions show too much and bow your head, “i am sorry that was out of line.”
He grabs your hands and you look at him with wide eyes. “I understand my lady, my mother is similar, i have truly never traveled to far, i wish to explore, once my mother has her rightful throne i believe i will take the time to see westeros a little bit,” He pauses before he speaks again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I could take you with me? if that is what you wish my lady.”
He watches as your eyes begin to glow and you beam at him, “truly? oh nothing would make me happier.” He nods and grips your hands tighter, “I shall take you everywhere.”
He does not expect you to throw your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. He wraps his hands around your lower back, pushing his head into your neck and breathing in your scent. “I will accept your mothers propsal at once. You will fly with me to winterfell.” You pull back and give him an eager look. “Winterfell? Truly?” He nods, “I am to go meet lord cregan stark.”
You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of seeing something that was not the eyrie, especially a place as grand as winterfell.
Jeyne watched you two smile at one another from a window above with a small smile on her face. She does not hear the guard approaching her from behind, “You seem pleased my lady.” She says nothing to him for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the two of you. “Tell my men to ready themselves for war. It seems he will accept my proposal.”
perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd imagine#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys strong#prince jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys x reader#jace x you#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jace x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house targaryen#jacaerys
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Asking to Sketch Them
---
*cough* I forgot this series was a thing I was doing uwu
---
DIASOMNIA
Malleus Draconia
"Oh? How bold of you to think you could capture my visage in a mere canvas."
He says with the goofiest smile imaginable（⌒▽⌒）
He's already summoning a chair to sit on
Very experienced with posing so it's a breeze
You have a nice chat about philosophy, gargoyles and culture while you draw him
When you're done he's fangirling internally
Asks if he can commission you to draw a portrait of the both of you tgt
Hangs it up in his room <3
Becomes a regular commissioner
Mostly gargoyles
10/10 honestly nothing bad to say he's lovely
Lilia Vanrouge
"Fufufu, I've been in thousands of portraits over the years, you'll have to try your hardest to really impress me~ No pressure though!"
100% pressure once again
The old bat man will probably be hanging from the ceiling no negotiating
So it's either you draw him upside down or get upside down too
If you choose the second option you best hope no one walks in on you cuz damn wtf
How are you doing that you aren't even using magic???
When you're finished he jumps down and looks and goes
"How nice! Art has truly evolved so much since the last time I had one done~"
Starts showing you some of the portraits he had before like he's showing you baby pics
One of them has him looking like those medieval babies TT
4/10 I can't explain why I'm not giving him a lower score he's just funky
Silver
"No problem. If I fall asleep you can just wake me up, I won't mind."
He doesn't have much experience in posing but he's a natural
He's lookin like a disney princess fr, animals have started gathering
You're having a pleasant chat abou-
Oop he fell asleep
You think about waking him up but like
He looks so peaceful and like he's not even really moving so-
By the time you're done he's probably up and he starts apologizing
Tbh it's Silver so it would've been beautiful whether he was awake or asleep
Bonus points if you include the woodland critters snuggling into him
Human anatomy AND animal anatomy practice!!
9/10 he tried his best and it did turn out well
Sebek Zigvolt
"I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS HUMAN! MY VALUABLE TIME IS SPENT GUARDING AND PROTECTING THE HONOUR OF THE GLORIOUS YOUN-"
once again someone kiss him and shut him up omg
Or actually just show him the Malleus portrait he'll shut up
Yeah you have to do Malleus first if you wanna draw him
Stiff like a ramrod his face looks constipated
Ask him a question about his young master and he forgets he's being drawn in exactly 3 seconds
His face really lights up as he talks about him it's kinda cute
By the time you're done he's probably still talking so interrupt in a speech break
Thinks you did a good job and asks for some advice with art
Then starts trying to buy the malleus portrait off of you
I should've tried harder to not make 80% of his just him talking about the dragon boi but it's really hard cuz he's just him TT
7/10 he's not that bad but your ears are bleeding
-----
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst headcanons#twst x reader#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twst silver#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#twst sebek#sebek zigvolt#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#silver x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst diasomnia
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
AN: Hey, hahaha it's my first time writing a suggestive, detailed make-out session so don't judge me lmao.
01:47 AM
"Hey beautiful," Mark grins as soon as the door closed.
Coming home to see you sitting on the couch, waiting for him despite the late night gives him energy even though he spent the whole day practicing for their concert. To add to that, he's also working on his solo too.
"Hey love," you giggled as you approached him. His arms automatically spread just so you could embrace him with ease. As soon as you crashed onto him, his arms wrapped around you tightly. He breathes onto your hair, smelling the vanilla-scent of your shampoo. Mark smiles fondly as he gives it a sweet peck.
"How's your practice?" you asked, looking up to him.
"Tiring, the kids' never ran out of energy! But it was a fun practice, hopefully we stay healthy until the tour ends," Mark explains.
"Is that so? Do you want to sleep now? I know you have a schedule tomorrow," you said with a concerned tone.
Mark thought about it for moment, but this is only one of the nights where he goes home to you. Especially when you're still awake. He often catches you sleeping when he arrives, and could only savor a few hours in the morning because he has to leave early too.
"I'm good, I just miss you baby," he confessed.
You smiled at him, brushing his hair fondly. "You miss me?"
"So so fucking much," he said. His voice deeper than before.
You only let out a small laugh when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. Mark can taste the peach lip balm of yours. Never mind that you already did your nightly lip care routine, all he wants is you.
You kissed him back, reciprocating the longing that you had to taste your lover's lips. Your arms draping around his shoulders so that you could pull him closer. While Mark's hands trailed down on your thighs, tapping it gently so that you could jumped onto him. His arms gripping your ass firmly as he carries you all the way to the couch.
Mark lays you down gently. He breaks away from the kiss making you whine quietly.
You saw how his eyes darkened, hands brushing away the stray hair that covered your face. Gently, he cups your left cheek. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."
"Mark ---" and before you knew, his lips are on yours once again. It's sweet, intoxicating, probably something inside him grew a craving for you.
You couldn't help but to drown into the heat. Feeling things warming up as you can feel your lover's hands trailing around your body. You moaned as his tongue enters your mouth, savoring your taste more.
Mark's lips trailed down on your jaw, leaving trails of kisses on your neck, throat --- until he reached your shoulder, a part where you're sensitive the most. You could only inhale sharply as you can your lover bites your skin, sucking it, and leaving marks on it.
"M-mark," you couldn't help but to call out his name, your hands loosing its grip on his shoulders as you fall more into the pleasure. You could only close your eyes as you feel everything heating up more.
"Baby," Mark called out once again, he kisses you once again, much sloppy this time.
But your eyes widen when you felt Mark's hands trailing down your waist, tugging the waistband of your pajamas. Eyes wide, you lightly pushed Mark away from you.
"Wait, shit I'm sorry baby," Mark apologized immediately, realizing what he has done.
"No, no, it's okay," you answered back. "Things got heated up too."
"No, it's not okay, I crossed your boundaries."
You only smiled at your boyfriend. "Mark you didn't, I pushed you away and you got the signal, you stopped immediately."
Mark became quiet for a while. Guilt eating him up.
Despite the many times you two made out, you two never had sex because both of you decided to do it after marriage. It sound old-school but Mark respected that decision of yours when you first open it up.
Mark knows where his boundaries are and he never done things that would make you uncomfortable. He's satisfied with what you two had. There were only a few times he almost crossed the line but once you told him to stop, he immediately does, and that's one of the reason why you love Mark so much.
"I'm really, really, sorry baby," Mark said once again.
"One more sorry from you and you're ban from my kisses," you taunted.
"Okay, I'll stop," Mark said, even raising both of his hand as a sign of defeat.
You smiled once again, cupping his cheeks and planting a quick kiss on his lips.
"I think we should sleep now," you told him. Thinking that things might go far if you two start another make-out session.
Mark only chuckles as he steals a kiss from you, "yeah we should just sleep."
Your boyfriend gets up from the couch first, and before you could move, Mark swings his arms around your legs and waist, carrying you bridal-style.
"Mark! I can walk you know?" you said to him, punching his shoulder lightly.
"Just practicing," Mark said.
You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
And before he answers, he kisses you once again. "For our wedding night."
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct fluff#mark lee x reader#nct mark#nct dream mark#mark lee imagines#mark lee drabbles#nct mark fluff#nct mark drabbles#mark drabbles#mark imagines#mark lee#nct dream mark imagines
181 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey hey! How about...
16. trying something new
With...😏
first-time plant parents
pairing: husband!ari levinson x female reader
warnings: domestic fluff, referenced smut (not really 18+ but i'd always rather minors do not interact!), kissing, little bit of dry humping, non-graphic sex, pet names (sunshine)
word count: 1,500ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Navy!!! i have no excuse for this except i just think starting a vegetable garden with ari would be neat 🤷🏼♀️ this is so so so so self-indulgent but i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡
You were surprised by how good it felt to get your hands dirty, your fingers sinking into the rich soil as you scooped some up and patted it down around the tomato seedling you’d just planted. Sitting back on your heels, you looked down the row of tomatoes you’d finished planting, a sense of accomplishment settling deep into your body and making you smile to yourself.
But it seemed you weren’t the only one to take pride in your efforts, as a warm, familiar voice called, “Lookin’ good, sunshine,” from the other side of the small vegetable garden you and your husband had set up in your backyard.
Lifting your eyes from the row of tomato seedlings you’d carefully planted, your gaze collided with that of your husband, Ari Levinson, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the bright spring sunshine. His grin was wide as he used a hand to push his golden brown hair back from his face, pride and affection shining in his gaze as he looked at you.
Your smile widened in return, and you raised a hand to shade your eyes so you could see his progress. “How’re the herbs coming?” you asked, your eyes skimming along the basil, rosemary and mint you’d decided to plant. They were in their own planter boxes to ensure they didn’t overrun the garden, and it looked like your husband was done with the task. “They look good.”
You’d never had a vegetable garden before—at least, not one of your own. Your grandmother had one when you were little, your father taking you into the impressively large garden to show you where they’d planted spinach and tomatoes and green beans and rhubarb.
But with that garden long since gone and both your grandmother and father having passed, you’d told Ari you wanted to try your hand at growing some veggies of your own. Your husband had been excited to try it, even though he had less experience than you.
But he’d jumped into it as eagerly as you, digging up a little plot in your backyard and setting up a fence so that the animals didn’t get to your herbs and veggies. The garden was bigger than the meager crop you’d decided to plant that first year—just the herbs, your tomatoes and some spinach—but Ari said the two of you would grow into it.
“Do they look as good as your husband?” Ari asked teasingly, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.
You couldn’t help but smile as you got to your feet, brushing your hands off on your shorts and picking your way across the garden to your husband. You bent down to look at the planter boxes, making a show of assessing his work in planting the herbs. When you’d drawn it out long enough, you stood back up and looked to your husband, having to stifle a laugh when you saw he’d somehow managed to get streaks of dirt across his forehead.
“They look better than you,” you said, barely contained laughter making your voice waver as you reached up and tried to brush the dirt from Ari’s forehead, asking, “How did you manage to get dirt here?” However, since your hands were also covered in dirt, you only managed to make things worse. Ari laughed at your wince of apology.
“I think you’ve got a little something, too,” he said playfully, brushing his dirty fingers over the tip of your nose. You were certain you didn’t have any dirt on your nose, which meant he’d just gotten you dirty for no good reason.
Gasping in mock outrage, you jumped back as he reached for your face again, knocking his hand away. “Don’t get me more dirty than I already am!” you cried, but you were laughing as you fended off your husband’s filthy, reaching hands.
You danced around the garden, trying to avoid Ari and your plants, but after a few moments, you decided to go on the offensive. “Let’s see how you like getting dirty!” you yelled, darting close to your husband and swiping your fingers across Ari’s cheek, leaving behind a new streak of dirt above the line of his beard.
However, Ari didn’t let you escape, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hauling you up against his chest. “Do your worst, sunshine,” he challenged, laughing right along with you.
Since his hands were busy holding onto you and yours were free, you brushed even more dirt on his cheeks, giggling as you got him even dirtier. But it wasn’t long before your giggles died down and the two of you were left pressed against one another, your chests heaving as you caught your breath and stared into each other’s eyes.
You could feel your body warming, which seemed to be a natural reaction to your husband’s closeness, your nipples tightening and heat sinking low to settle in your core. Squirming in Ari’s arms, you could feel your expression change, your eyes turning pleading as an aching need built up in your body.
“Stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, a gruff warning in his tone. You could feel his body responding to you, his arousal digging into your belly and making your legs tremble beneath you. “Or I’m liable to take you right here—garden be damned.”
Ari’s words sent new tendrils of heat curling through your body, even as they knocked some sense into you and you managed a playful gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as you pretended to be scandalized. “Not in front of the plants, Ari,” you scolded, your tone more flirtatious than chastising.
Your husband grinned, squeezing you tighter, and ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that had you melting against his chest. Your fingers dove into Ari’s beard, clinging to him and holding him close while you devoured each other. When you whimpered into the kiss and rocked your body against Ari’s bulge, he pulled away with a groan.
“Sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and drawing in deep, heavy breaths that pushed his chest against yours in the most delicious way. “If you don’t want our little seedlings exposed to our dirty deeds so early in their lives, you’re gonna have to let me take you inside now,” he murmured in a serious tone, but you could see the corners of his mouth flickering with his need to grin. “Because the idea of seeing you blissed out and satisfied in the garden we made is sounding better by the second.”
“Then take me inside, husband,” you said huskily, a smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “because you are not fucking me the dirt.”
Wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck, Ari held you still while he kissed you again, his tongue plundering your mouth until your mind was fuzzy and you’d mostly forgotten where you were. You knew that had been Ari’s intention when his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and kissing your skin until his mouth brushed the edge of your ear.
“What if I made love to you in the grass?” he rumbled teasingly, bending down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip so he could press his bulge into the apex of your thighs. His grunt was loud in your ear, but it didn’t drown out the low, filthy moan that slipped from your lips.
Still, you weren’t so far gone that you’d let Ari have his way with you just anywhere. “What about the shower?” you countered, your voice high-pitched and breathy, making your husband chuckle as he kissed down your neck.
Then you were shrieking in surprise and delight as Ari hauled you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you into the house to finish what you’d started. He took you in the shower, the two of you laughing as much as you kissed, taking turns washing the grime of dirt from each other’s skin before sinking into the familiar rhythm of your bodies coming together.
Later, when you were both sated and clean and the sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, you stood in the grass outside the fence of your humble little vegetable garden. Ari stood at your back, his arms circling your waist and holding you close as you both took pride in the work you’d accomplished that day.
“Do you think we’ll be good first-time plant parents?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing idly through the hair on Ari’s arms. Tilting your head to the side, you wondered if you’d watered the newly transplanted seedlings enough to make the transition easier for them.
“I think we’ll do our best,” Ari murmured, curling his body around yours and pressing a kiss to your temple while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. “I think we’ll give them all the love they need, and I think they’ll flourish because of it.”
A pleased smile curved your lips and you hummed in agreement, leaning back further against Ari, knowing your husband spoke the truth. After all, you’d done the same with each other—you’d given each other all the love in your hearts and both of you had flourished. Ari was your partner, your husband, the love of your life, and you wouldn’t want to be first-time plant parents with anyone but him.
#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson fluff#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fluff#chris evans characters#witchywithwhiskeywork#navybrat817
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
at arm's length
You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.”
“Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it.
You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight.
Summary: you and steve found each other when you were eleven; he's held you at an arm's length ever since, suffocating you
Rating: general, suggestive themes
Warnings: toxic relationship, heavy angst, allusions to sex, some stancy, fem!reader, use of y/n, not proofread so pls be kind
Words: 2.9k
Before you swing in: where did this come from ? no clue ! this is pure angst though, no happy ending, all just heartbreak and a very toxic steve. beware. prepare. have fun !
-
Neither of you know how it started.
You aren’t sure when you allowed the lines to be crossed. Steve isn’t sure when he realized he wanted to cross them.
One night he had simply wanted to crawl through your window.
And, one night, you let him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you always whisper against his skin in between highs and desperation.
“I know,” he always kisses the patch of skin just below your ear before encasing you, silencing you.
You’re not sure if he kisses the patch of skin as a promise or as an apology. For what he’s putting you through, for the ignored glances in school, for the way his body stills when someone says your name when he’s around, for the way you always see it.
Afterwards, Steve never stays long. He picks up his clothes as the quiet in your room overwhelms him. He feels your eyes follow him in the dark as he gets dressed and you remain in your bed, sprawled out wanting, waiting, mourning.
There’s never any malice or anger in your eyes when you watch him, and sometimes Steve resents you for it. He wishes you’d make it easier for him to leave.
Instead you always watch him with interest, a slight glint in your eye as if you know more than he does; Steve wants to mold a crease between your brows and turn your mouth down with his fingers so that your face isn’t as angelic and understanding.
“Drive safe.”
Your whispered words are the final blow to the thin wall of glass Steve hides behind. You wish him a safe journey home every time he drives to your house to climb through your window and take more from you than he deserves.
He hates it.
He hates you.
Yet every night Steve crawls through your window.
And every night you let him in.
–
No one knows how it started.
Your friendship with Steve Harrington was an oddity within Hawkins.
One day the two of you sat down together during lunch in the sixth grade, and the entire middle school cafeteria went quiet. Everyone had stared at you and whispered, wondering who you were and why you were sitting with someone above your rank, someone who ran with kids like Tommy Hagan.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had mumbled to Steve, tugging at your sweater with an insecurity you can only feel when you’re eleven.
“I know.” Steve hadn't seemed to feel this same sense of insecurity at eleven as he popped a french fry into his mouth with a shrug, uncaring. “But who cares?”
You remember looking down at your food, embarrassed and unsure about it all. You’d been standing at your locker merely minutes ago as you looked around helplessly, lost in the school your mom had promised you’d enjoy this time.
Then Steve had found you.
He had been on his way to the lunch room, late to meet up with his friends, when he had seen you. He will always remember the way you’d been holding yourself, then. You were drawn in, looking around the empty hallways with a wonder in your eyes, despite your obvious fear, that Steve had never seen before in someone his age.
Steve couldn’t help himself.
He had asked if you were lost and the way your eyes widened at his question made something within him stir. He watched as a blush spread across your cheeks, shy and nervous, and Steve knew then and there that he couldn’t ever leave you alone. There was something in your eyes, in the way you had looked at him in that moment with that same wonder that had made Steve stop in the first place.
Soon enough everyone in Hawkins Middle watched as your friendship unfolded.
It was innocent enough, almost imperceptible to those who weren’t paying attention, but everyone knew.
Steve was never outwardly friendly with you following your first day meeting him, although he was inseparable from you in his own ways. He would walk you to your classes and always sat a few seats behind you so that he could keep an eye on you. Everyone saw how his eyes never left you.
You never asked why Steve wouldn’t include you with the rest of his friends. He never introduced you to them, yet he made you promise that if they ever said anything to you that you’d tell him. You promised him, swore to him that you would, and the promise seemed to calm something within Steve.
“Why?” You had asked him afterwards, not understanding why it seemed so important to Steve that you’d tell him if his friends were ever mean to you.
“Because you’re my friend.” He stood by your locker as he waited for you to gather your books. People walked past the two of you, whispering as they always did, but he had learned how to ignore them.
You remember frowning, feeling a pit forming in your stomach at his words. “But they’re your friends, too.”
“No, they’re not.” Steve scoffed at you and shoved his hands into his jean pockets.
“But you’re always with them.”
He looked down at his scuffed sneakers, then. “They follow me around. I don’t mind it that much, my dad says it makes boys look cool.”
“Your dad?”
Steve will never understand why he had told you about his dad that day, but he would come to learn that you always somehow made him weak against the things that darkened his mind; how you were always the one he confessed to.
“Can we go to class now?”
“Sorry,” you grabbed the last of your books and closed your locker. You smiled at Steve, you will always remember how hard you had tried to calm him down, make him comfortable around you, and you will always remember how you had placed your hand on his arm. “Let’s go to class.”
Steve flinched at your touch, and you would come to learn that touches weren’t something he was accustomed to; how it would be because of you that he learned what it feels like to be warmed by someone’s fingertips.
–
Steve isn’t sure when he became King Steve.
He thinks it was sometime during his freshman year of high school when he shot up a few inches during the summer and grew his hair long.
It had been your idea, growing his hair out, because you knew he liked it when you played with it.
“I look like a douche, Y/N.” Steve groaned when he had looked in your mirror. Sometime between sixth and seventh grade, he had started going to your house after school and on the weekend. He claimed it was because your mom was always nice to him, but deep down you knew it was because he enjoyed having you to himself.
You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.”
“Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it.
You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight.
But two years ago you leaned into the arm that still held onto you and played with the hair that had only grown long because of you. “I mean it, you know.”
Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, and he saw the wonder there again, though now that you were both fifteen with a shared history, the wonder was now accompanied by a fondness that Steve couldn’t bear himself to look into for long. He loved your eyes, he loved the way you looked at him, but it always burned.
Thick silence had started to crawl in between you two, then.
Steve had grown a few inches and his jawline had sharpened and his skin evened out. One day, before your very eyes, he had stopped looking like the eleven year old boy who found you in the hallway. As you stared at him in the mirror that night, you realized just how beautiful he had become, and somehow, even then, you knew that this beauty would strangle you.
The silence had started to grip your neck, so you cleared your throat and tried to pretend that nothing had changed, even though everything had changed in that moment. “It’s late, your parents will want you home soon.”
“They probably don’t even notice I’m gone right now, Y/N.” The moment had been broken and Steve now felt the same fury that had been building within him ever since he was eight. The anger threatened to spill over, but Steve had come to learn that his anger only scared you, so instead he had tried to find another way to quiet the waves within his mind. “I have a better idea.”
“Is that so?”
“I spend the night.” Steve winked at you, he knew that you sensed his brewing anger, and he desperately wanted to reassure you that he wouldn’t ruin this.
You froze, as if you knew even then that this would be a shift within your dynamic with him. You called Steve your best friend at this point, and while he never said so out loud, you were his best friend, too. At school, you didn’t have many friends, but Steve had now become surrounded by both boys and girls, all vying for his attention, and though he still never introduced you to them, you knew even then that you were the most important person in his life.
As your eyes met Steve’s in the mirror once more, for a moment you could see the eleven year old boy again, and he’s the reason you say yes.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you reminded Steve for the tenth time that night as you looked over at your door to make sure it was locked. Your mom would’ve killed you if she had ever found out Steve never left.
“I know.” Steve crawled into bed next to you and collapsed with a huff. He wrapped his arms around you and you were weak against him.
You’ve always been weak against him.
–
You’re not sure when you first lost Steve to Nancy Wheeler.
They met when you were all in middle school, and yet somehow she hadn’t caught his eye until you were juniors and she was a sophomore.
He had dated other girls before, but none had been like Nancy; she was the only one who truly caught his eye.
You watched as he became infatuated with her. It happened slowly, and then all at once. He stopped walking you to class, stopped sitting a few seats behind you, stopped asking to spend the night.
Steve still saw the wonder in your eyes, though. He still saw the fondness that burned his skin and ground into his bones. He saw your eyes in Nancy’s, and it infuriated him. He loved the girl, he knew he did, but somehow you were always there.
Even after you stopped asking to see him, to sit in his car and drive, to be his best friend again.
Somehow, you were always there. You were always there, long after you stopped calling yourself Steve Harrington’s best friend and he stopped feeling the need to miss you.
Then, one night, when Steve had been on his way to pick Nancy up to go see a movie, he drove past you sitting on a park bench with someone’s arms thrown over your shoulders. He remembers feeling the wind being knocked out of him at the sight, he remembers the possessiveness that clawed so deeply into his chest that he had been afraid for a moment that he was dying.
He doesn’t remember changing lanes and parking there in front of you.
He doesn’t remember the way your face fell when you saw him.
He doesn’t remember the way the guy who had been wrapped around you stood up, asked who Steve was and why he was bothering you.
All Steve remembers is that he no longer saw the fondness in your eyes when you looked at him. The wonder had been gone.
“Y/N?” His voice hadn’t sounded like his own. Your name hadn’t left his lips in months; it felt like exhaling after breaking an oath.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had shaken your head at him, somehow knowing Steve’s feelings before he did. He would come to learn that you had always known his feelings for you, long before he was ever able to figure them out himself. You looked at the guy next to you, your date for the night, and shook your head again. “Not here. Not right now.”
“I know.” But Steve hadn’t known anything. If someone had asked, then, what his name was, all he would’ve been able to answer with was yours. He was yours. “I… I know.”
“I think you should leave, buddy.” The guy you’d been with said, and Steve remembers now that his name had been Jamie. He had been on the soccer team, someone he had once shared a drink with at some stupid party last year.
Steve cleared his throat and avoided your eyes. You knew too much. You knew too much and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to you until then. “Have a good night.”
And then he was gone.
Steve broke up with Nancy a week later.
You never saw Jamie after that night.
–
Neither of you know how it started.
But you know how it will end.
Steve doesn’t, but you don’t blame him.
He sneaks in through your window most nights and takes from you what you’ve always been willing to give him; it’s how your relationship has always been, and yet you’d give him everything and more if he asked you to.
Steve kisses you and holds you at arm’s length and tugs you back in every time.
You always allow yourself to be pulled in.
One night Steve crawls through your window and reeks of alcohol. He trips over himself as he enters, his hair a mess, still grown the length you once suggested to him, and his jean jacket hangs loosely from his thin frame.
“Steve?” You rush towards him and help him through your window, holding your breath as you do so.
He leans heavily against you and slurs his words. “‘M here.”
“You’re here.” You confirm for him, setting him gently against your bed. As he stares at your ceiling with blurred eyes from the alcohol, you start removing his jacket and shoes. He’s not going home tonight in this state, you know his dad will only send him back here again anyways.
“Always here,” he slurs again, rolling his head to the side as he does his best to look at you. He squints, studying your side profile and it takes everything within you to not face him. You busy yourself with his clothes, giving yourself something to distract yourself with. He frowns, even in his drunken state he can read you so well. “Always… here.”
“You are always here,” you untie his shoes and place them against your wall. “It’s late, Steve. Let’s go to bed, okay?”
“No,” he now tries to fight against you. Words float through his mind, in a haze of letters and sentence fragments, and vaguely there’s something there that he knows he has to say. Some grand epiphany in between his sixth and seventh beer tonight. “I wanna–I wanna talk.”
You freeze.
He sees your discomfort and feels something break within him. He tries desperately to grasp at the words within his mind. “Here. It’s… You’re here.���
“I live here, Steve.” You’re not sure what he’s trying to tell you, but you know that if he keeps talking, he’ll ruin the last remaining line that tethers you to him. “Please, just close your eyes and sleep–”
“You’re always here.” His voice has strength to it now, as if the confession has sobered him up. His eyes are now focused, though his mind is still a haze of everything he hasn’t told you. His movements are still slow, his breath still reeks, and he knows that this isn’t what you deserve. “W-why?”
You close your eyes.
You’ve always known how this would end.
“We can talk in the morning.” You try to appease him, now gently crawling over him so that you can lay his drunken state to rest. “How about you just hold me tonight, okay?”
Steve is gone again, now lost in the alcohol he’s consumed once more, and your offer of him being able to hold you is all he can focus on now. Exhaustion washes over him and he wraps his arms around you, distantly he thinks he remembers someone else doing this to you once. The thought makes him hold onto you tighter, though he thinks that this isn’t fair to you.
Lips close to your ear, he whispers, “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”
“I know,” you close your eyes again, scared he’ll see the tears within them.
Neither of you know how it started.
The undoing of whatever you had started long before either one of you truly knew what it was.
One day you were both eleven and Steve had been drawn towards the naivety within you that he never had himself.
Tonight, you’re both seventeen and the naivety is gone, and as the alcohol burns through Steve’s system, he knows it’s because of him.
You’ve always known how this would end.
Steve has only realized it tonight.
-
⌑ writing masterlist
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem#angst#m's writing#dont ask where this came from idek#its sad and very toxic#boooo steve#might do a follow up on this#a part 2 if ya will#this was heavily inspired by normal people btw
160 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can we have some moments of Dogday acting like a dog please?
Of course! Order up ^^
Dogday x GN! Reader
Your obedient companion
Growling
While on a walk, a sound from further in the woods caught your attention.
DogDay lets out a low but terrifying growl as he uses his body to cover you from any dangers.
“I think we're ok.”
You whisper to him, but his growls become louder.
“GRRRRRR”
The sound of rustling signaled that whatever was lurking about was now gone.
“I think it's gone now.”
You chuckle as you attempt to push him off, he lets out a sigh of relief before rising and helping you up.
“Youre safe with me, my angel.”
Biting
“Angellll~”
DogDay sang as he tried to get your attention. He meant well when he offered to help cook, but instead he accidentally spilled the pot of food you worked oh so hard on, which meant you had to make another batch.
He knows you have every right to be upset, but the silent treatment? Surely you'll forgive the poor guy, right?
“Angel, please talk to me… I apologize…”
You continue to type away on your computer, completely ignoring his presence.
He sighs and decides that drastic times call for drastic measures.
“OW!”
You yelp in pain once he bit down on your arm. It wasn't hard but enough to cause a bit of pain. You rip off your headphones and stand up from your desk, preparing to scold him.
Before you can get a word out, he gasps and wraps you in a bear hug.
“I'msosorryIdidn'tknowyoucouldn'thearme!”
Pacing
“It's been 3 hours!”
DogDay paces around the entrance as Kissy and Poppy watch in concern. DogDay has been pacing without a break since he noticed you're late. The two can only keep him calm for so long.
“DogDay I'm sure they're ok! Just relax! You're going to make a hole in the floor!”
Poppy attempts to be the voice of reason once again. She sighs once DogDay finally stands to a halt.
“Trust me they–"
“What if… Angel is… dead?”
He whispered as he fell to the ground, he was on the verge of tears as terrible thoughts filled his head.
“What if they died alone?!”
“DogDay…”
“What if someone hurt them?!”
“DogDay…”
“WHAT IF–”
“RICH THEY JUST PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY!”
Poppy finally snaps.
DogDay rushed to greet you at the door as if he didn't just have a breakdown from your absence.
"ANGEL!"
Sniffing
“I'm homeeee!”
You call out as you take off your boots and coat, preparing to be greeted by everyone.
“Hey Y/N! How was work?”
Poppy asks as she climbs the couch to get a better view of you.
“Oh it was busy! Are you guys hungry?”
“ANGEL!”
DogDay rushes to you, entrapping you in one of his tight hugs reserved just for his angel.
His tail that was once wagging now stopped as he began to… Sniff you?
“Uh, is everything ok?”
Confusion is written all over your face, Poppy gives you the same look and Kissy tilts her head just as confused.
“That's a new scent…”
He mutters once he's done interrogating your day through his nose.
“Who have you been around?”
He tilts his head and places his hands on his hips.
“Sunshine?"
"Angel?"
"You do realize I work with people... Right?"
You laugh at how ridiculous he was acting, he snickers and places one of his hands on your head, blocking your view.
“I apologize, but I prefer my angel's scent.”
"Mhm, sure we'll just say that."
You pat his chest before you head to change out of your work clothes. As much as he tries to play it off, everyone knows his reasons are just an excuse.
#Dogday x reader#dogday x y/n#sunnyangel#dogday#poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#Smiling critters dogday#bun z writes#anon ask#bun z receipt
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teach Me: The Ask - PB
Pairing: Paige Buecker x Reader
Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.
Warnings: best friend vulnerability, smitten Paige
Word Count: 3.5
Teach Me Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Let's do this.
It's a Tuesday afternoon when a girl from your chem class asks you out. The two of you had been talking for the past few weeks and you had gotten a vibe - at least were hoping you were getting a vibe. Turns out, you were correct. She asked you to go out that Friday night.
You are literally over the moon. Truth be told, you were never one to date in high school or the beginning of college for that matter. The high school thing never really bugged you, but once you got to college and saw how much fun your friends were having hooking up, and sort of felt like you were missing out. It was always something that lingered in the back of your mind.
The thing that always scared you was your lack of knowledge. You had never done anything sexual. You hadn't even had your first real kiss yet, talk about embarrassing. I mean you kissed Jacob in middle school spin the bottle but never counted it because it was when you learned you didn't like boys.
But now that all that is changing. Not like you are going to treat your chem date as one of the girls your friends bring home, but you also don't want to be completely clueless as to what to do if it does ever go there.
The now excitement turns into fear as you run through all the possibilities of how your inexperience could end something that hasn't even begun. In your irrational thinking, there is only one person who you can think of that could help you.
Paige Bueckers and you met in high school. Your dad was the high school girls' basketball coach, where Paige played during regular season all four years. You knew everything your dad knew about the game and were often his assistant coach even though you were also still in school. Nobody understood why you didn't continue playing after middle school and you honestly never really talked about it. All they knew was that your knowledge of the game was something that could take you places.
You were instantly impressed by Paige when she made the varsity team her freshman year. Your dad led a pretty excellent program for high school which caused families to move to your hometown to have their daughters play for him. He was also on the board of a club program which usually kept him pretty busy and you as you were always with him.
Paige was a player your dad had been following since she started middle school and playing at the club. You also had an eye on her and were impressed by how refined her skills were. So when she came and tried out for the high school team, she was tough to place. You thought she should have been on JV for a year before stepping up into varsity but your dad argued a good case as to why she should be on varsity.
She was one of 4 girls in your dad's career who had come in as a freshman and made varsity.
Paige and you actually butted heads during both of your freshman years. You would try and coach her and she would dismiss you immediately - only listening to your dad. I mean you couldn't really blame her, you were the same age as her trying to tell her how to be better at a sport you didn't play anymore.
It wasn't until the end of the season your guy's freshman year that she saw the value in you. It was during the State Class Tournament when the team was down by 10 in the last quarter and you were coaching the offense while your dad was coaching on defense. It was then that she truly saw your knowledge of the game and how you weren't just pulling stuff out of your ass.
The team won the championship - your first time and your dad's like 12th. It was after that game, while everyone was celebrating that Paige came up to you and apologized for being so dismissive all season. You told her not to sweat it and the rest is history.
The two of you became best friends sophomore year of high school. It was easy as you were a part of the team but not a player and Paige appreciated having a friend who didn't share the court with her - I mean you shared the court with her but in a completely different capacity. The two of you worked extremely well together when it came to the game and found out that you also enjoyed each other's company outside of the gym. It was like you two had an unspoken language and were able to communicate without anyone hearing a word.
Your friendship only continued to grow over the years. You became Paige's right hand when it came to playing ball - you knew the way she played like the back of your hand. You could tell her where she had gone wrong or where she could improve before she even made a move. When she committed to UConn, you knew that would be where you go. Your dad approved and you knew you could continue learning the game.
During your freshman year, you and Paige dormed together. You continued to watch her game and help her become a better player at a college level. You also got super close with her team. You fit in perfectly. For most of the time, that wasn't an issue - hanging out with the girls and spending time with them. The only time it became an issue is when you see them more than Paige. You love your best friend, but there are times when she gets a little territorial.
The first time you noticed this was in high school, it only happened once or twice but it was bad.
There was this one time during club season (about a year into your friendship) when you had gone to a tournament with your dad. Paige was playing and she knew you were going to be there. Granted, before the tourney you had told her you were going to be scooping out players with your dad. She knew you weren't there to watch her play.
As the day progressed, so did her game. She kept missing shots and couldn't get out of her head. And to top it all off - you were nowhere in sight. Paige knew that whenever she was off, you would be there to tell her exactly how she could fix it, even if it was just a knock upside her head to tell her to stop overthinking.
When she would have a moment, her eyes would scan the crowd for you but she could never find you. The frustration started to build up in her that by the end of the tournament, she didn't make a beeline to you (not that she knew where you were) rather just went straight home.
When you and your dad were finished, you looked at Paige's location on Find My Friends and noticed she was already home. Your heart sank a little seeing as she did come find you but shake it off.
A day passes and you hear nothing from Paige. Typically you wake up to a minimum of 3-4 notifications from her, whether it be texts, missed calls, or some video or meme she has sent. The next morning there was nothing.
You try and give her a call but no answer.
It is about 10am now and still nothing from Paige. You see she is at home and decide to make your way there. When you get there her dad is out working in the garage and greets you. He lets you know Paige has been out back working on her shot all morning. YOu thank him and make your way out to your best friend.
When you walk out she is locked in on a shooting drill. You stand there and watch her - already seeing what you had seen yesterday. You weren't able to watch full games for your best friend but every chance you got, you would sneak over to see how she was doing. You knew she was off and how she could adjust but every time you had an opportunity to go talk to her, your dad needed you with him.
"You're pulling your shot - your elbow and wrist aren't aligned. You lose it a second before your release causing you to shift right." You say to the girl who keeps missing about half of her shots.
Paige wants so badly to look at you and say she needed you yesterday but she still boils with an unknown anger. She says nothing.
"Paige, what's going on?" You ask when she doesn't respond - you even used her first name, and you never used her first name. Still no response from your stubborn friend as she goes up for another shot - missing it. You have seen enough.
You walk up to her, take the ball, and throw it into the yard. If she wants to play this game, she needs to know that 2 can play.
"What the hell?" She yells, finally looking at you.
Her look says more than you imagined it would. At first, all you see is the anger that she has been holding for the past 24 hours. But as you both stand there just staring at one another, you begin to see the hurt that lies behind it maybe even a hint of jealousy. There is something else in her eye but you can't quite pinpoint that one yet.
Your eyes soften as you look at the blonde in front of you, waiting for her to take the lead. You are wholeheartedly expecting her to yell at you for something you still have no idea about. And you're ready to give it right back to her.
The yelling never comes as Paige finally breaks eye contact with you and looks down.
"You weren't there." Is all Paige says. She continues to look down and behind picking at one of the nails.
"What are you talking about B?" You ask, needing her to be more specific.
"I needed you and you weren't there," she says again. You wrack your brain for what she could possibly be talking about when it clicks. Even though you saw what her issue was yesterday - you never corrected her during the game.
"That's what this is about?" You ask, your heart breaking slightly from the sight of your best friend's vulnerability. You see a switch in her flip and know you are about to get feisty Paige.
"You were at the tournament for the entire day and didn't come over to watch me for a second! That single-handedly was one of my worst tournaments and couldn't figure out what was going wrong. The day just kept getting worse. I would scan the crowd for you and you were nowhere in sight, off at some other court watching some other girl that wasn't me." She whispered the last part to herself more than you.
You wait a second, processing what she is saying and waiting to see if there is going to be anything else. When nothing else comes, you speak.
"During game three, is when you started pulling your shot. It started when no.15 from the other team fouled you midshot and you fell to the ground. That is why you missed your first free throw. Your next game was even worse - that is when you started getting in your head. Your shooting percentage was down 20% and you couldn't shake it because you were fully in your head at that point. Game 5 was the worst of them all because you had just given up on yourself. Your shot was all over the place as you were trying to adjust every single one you took. I was there P, you just couldn't see me." You say with a matter-of-fact tone.
"And it is my job to watch other athletes! You know this! That is why I started watching you," you finish looking at your best friend.
"You saw?" Paige asks.
"Of course, I saw B, you're my girl," You say using her nickname. Everyone always calls Paige either by her name or first initial. You, on the other hand, call her by her last initial. You are the only one she allows to call her by it. It started when you would only call her by her last name freshman year, never using her first name and it drove her crazy. When the two of you became best friends, you shortened it to B. She didn't know how she felt about it until you mentioned it you liked it because no one else called her that and you wanted a special nickname that only you use. Hence, her shooting daggers at anyone else who tries to call her by your nickname.
Paige's heart tugs when she hears you call her 'your girl'. That's all she really wants but values you too much to make any sort of move. She has come to terms that a friendship is all the two of you will ever have and is okay with that knowing you will always be there. But it is in moments like this that she wants more for the two of you.
She waddles over to you. You open your arms to embrace her. She walks into your arms and you hug her, she doesn't hug you back but stands there like a child with her head in your neck.
That night you spend the night at her house. The two of you have a movie night and Paige falls asleep to She's the Man and you stoking her hair.
You are running back to your apartment to see if Paige is around and find your apartment filled with girls from the team. They are all doing an IG live. You smile at the girls before you and know you need to wait to talk to Paige. You quietly make your way to your room but don't go completely unnoticed.
As you are making your way over, Paige's arm reaches back and squeezes your knee. You give her a smile and run your hands through her hair.
She lets out a little moan, not loud enough for anyone to hear except herself.
You are grateful you are covered by Azzi and another girl. There have been several times the two of you have had to mitigate dating rumors and didn't want to deal with that tonight. You head back to your room and lay on your bed scrolling through IG, waiting for the girls to finish up.
It also gives you time to think through how you want to approach talking to Paige. She is the only one you trust with something so intimate.
I mean not only is she your best friend, but since the two of you got to college she has been pretty active and I don't just mean playing ball. The two of you talked about her habits early on. She was allowed to bring girls home on weekends or after games and all you asked is that she didn't mention any details and that they were gone by the time you had to be up in the morning. Her sexual life never affected you. If you were honest, you were glad at least one of you was getting laid.
You hear the girls start saying their goodbyes and that is your cue that the live has ended and it is safe to make your way to tell them bye.
Making your way out, you head to the group. You say bye to all of them and they leave your apartment.
"How did it go?" You ask Paige as she grabs an apple and takes a bite.
"It was aight, they did a Q & A which was fun." She says as she wipes her bottom lip.
You start to feel nervous and begin fiddling with a paper on the counter.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks noticing your nervousness. You give her a smile, always loving when she calls you pretty or any pet name really. It's endearing.
"I have to ask you something - and I don't really know how to ask it so I am just going to come out and ask," you say beginning to ramble. "You can say no, but I am only asking you because I know you and you know me and I trust you."
"Spit it out ma," she says going in for another bite of her apple.
"Willyoushowmehowtobeintimatewithagirl?" You say faster than you could breathe.
Paige chokes on her apple and begins to cough. She doesn't think she has heard you correctly.
"B, are you okay?" You ask patting her on the back. She takes a step away from you and you retreat a little yourself.
This was a bad idea, you think to yourself as you begin to feel embarrassed by the ask you have of your best friend.
"Repeat what you just said," she says, telling not asking. You open your mouth and she clarifies, "Slower this time."
You gulp, feeling even more nervous than before.
"Will you," you say with another gulp. "Will you show - teach me how to be intimate with a girl?"
Paige's mind is racing - almost as fast as her heart. She wants to say yes immediately but has done such a good job of hiding her feelings up to this point.
"You want me to show you how to fuck girls?" She asks bluntly.
You blush at her directness.
"Well that and more," you say. "You know, like what to do and what feels good. What girls like in bed and stuff but also like how to kiss and stuff." You can't look at her when you ask the last part.
Paige's head is now spinning and beginning to throb. And trust me when I say her head is not the only thing that is beginning to throb.
You begin to feel like you are asking too much of your best friend.
"B, you are the only person I trust and you know I am a literal child when it comes to being intimate with someone. I would never ask anyone else because they don't know me like you do and I know this wouldn't change anything between us." You say.
Paige is now leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She is just trying to get the image of you, laying out before her - exposed, out of her head before she takes you right here on the kitchen counter. Her skin is buzzing.
"Paige," you begin and her head whips up. You are too caught up in your own nervousness to notice how her pupils are dilated.
"Why now?" She asks.
"A girl from one of my classes asked me out on Friday and I want to be prepared for anything," you say slightly embarrassed.
Paige's heart fills with jealousy thinking about another girl taking you out and making you laugh. Thinking about her touching you and making you moan her name.
A fire begins to burn in Paige. She is in a complete internal battle with herself. Why would she show you how to make someone else feel good? But at the same time, she absolutely hates the idea of you with someone else and if she is your first - she would at least have that.
You touch her arm as Paige's skin feels like it just went up into a burning pile of flames. When did you get so close to her?
"If this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it." You say looking deep into her eyes.
She could stare into your eyes forever. You really don't know the effect you have on her. Paige would move mountains for you. She would do anything to make you happy even if it caused her pain. She would give you her last breath if it meant she got to see you smile one last time. As much as she knows this is a bad idea, she knows how much it took for you to ask her. She knows how uncomfortable you get when someone hits on you in a bar or when someone gets too close. She knows your ask is genuine because you used her first name.
Paige takes a moment to gather all of her thoughts then takes your hand.
"I'll do it," is all she says before you jump in her arms. Her arms wrap around you and she inhales the scent of your shampoo.
"Thank you so much B! I promise to be the best student ever," you say as you give her a squeeze.
She doesn't say it, but that is exactly what Paige is afraid of - you being her best. You being her best but not hers.
AN: First part down! Let me know what you think! This series will be posted every Sunday until The End is posted. I hope you enjoyed it. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
Language of Flowers (b.b. x fem!reader)
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
word count: 2.3k
warnings: classism, use of "miss" and "y/n", stubborn mc
a/n: class differences in historical fiction have my heart and what better man to write them for than benedict! hope you enjoy and requests are open!
For all your years helping run your family’s flower shop, you could not remember a day as memorable as this. You were in the back of the shop, cutting stems and bunching bundles of similar flowers together when you heard your little sister gasp from her spot in the doorway. Though gentlemen callers were not entirely uncommon, as flowers were a typical house gift when men went to call on their chosen lady, this one seemed to have caught her by surprise.
“Who’s there Abigail?” you asked without turning around. “Abigail?” you asked again when she did not respond. It only took one look at the familiar chestnut head of hair to understand why your sister had gone as silent as Mayfair during the ton’s visits to the country. There stood a Bridgerton. Abigail had been obsessed with them ever since she got one of the printer apprentices to give her a copy of the gossip column the ton had been infatuated with. Anything that was ever written about them, Abigail had saved and regaled you when you were both in bed after a day’s work.
“Y/N! I believe your expertise might be required,” your father called from the front of the shop, where he stood with parchment and a pencil, jotting down people’s requests.
Abigail had not moved from her spot in the doorway, effectively blocking you out. “Abigail, I need to get through,” you waved a hand in front of her face but she did not move. She was utterly and entirely captivated, so you resorted to picking her up by her waist and moving her to the side. The perks of her being your little sister meant that moving her came easier to you than moving you did to her.
“I was summoned?” You looked at your father who nodded at the man standing in front of him. “Yes sir, how can I help you today?”
“I am here to buy flowers for a lady-”
“What a novelty,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the sheet your father had been working on moments before.
“Pardon?” The man asked, clearly not expecting to be cut off in such a manner.
“Apologies, good sir, you were saying?”
“I am buying flowers for a lady. You see, my brother has crossed his wife and wants to apologise, but has no time for such an errand so he has sent me-”
“He has truly no space to make time for apologising to his wife?” You interrupted again.
“Do you interrupt every customer in this manner?”
“Only the ones with ridiculous stories,” you countered.
“I can assure you, despite how ridiculous it might sound, I speak nothing but the truth,” he looked at you, hoping you would change your mind. When you said nothing, he continued, “Now, I mentioned to your father earlier that I would like to gather flowers that mean an apology or makes it clear that the sender knows they have done some wrong-”
“Ah, so you are keen on the language of flowers? I take it this has happened before then?” You interrupted yet again, raising a brow.
“Apologies for my sister, my lord, she has been working long hours lately,” your older sister Jeanine stepped in. She gave you a harsh look as she finished her sentence, nonverbally telling you to scoot out of the way. You huffed and pushed the sheet of paper with the man’s order on it towards her before making your way to the back of the shop to finish the arrangements from before.
It took Abigail no time at all to meet you back there, desperate to know how your interaction went. When you disappointed her with the fact that you had absolutely no thrilling news to report back, she smacked your arm and grabbed some flowers from the vases in the corner, complaining that you should have done a better job.
“Well perhaps if he was not exactly like all other men who enter this shop then I would have something interesting to share with you,” you responded, grabbing some baby’s breath to add in.
Jeanine came to greet you both with the sheet of parchment in hand, “something with an apology and sorrow but also suggesting forgiveness,” she muttered, looking at the selection in front of her.
“White roses, forget-me-nots, and pink tulips,” you commented without looking at her.
“If only you could do your job that easily in front of the customers”.
“If the customers were not all so alike and insufferable perhaps I could”.
“That poor Bridgerton did nothing to you and you know it,” Jeanine tried.
“He irked me, is that not enough?”
“Not when we are trying to keep a business afloat, no,” Jeanine replied as she stepped back onto the main floor to have Mr. Bridgerton pick the colour of ribbon with which the bouquet would be tied together. “Now there you are Mr. Bridgerton, and if I could grab a first name to keep our records in order and for possible future transactions?” Jeanine asked as she handed over the bouquet.
“Do I truly look so similar to my brothers that you cannot tell us apart?” Mr. Bridgerton jested, at least you hoped he was jesting.
“It is that arrogance that irritates me to be sure,” you muttered to Abigail.
“It is merely a formality my lord,” Jeanine laughed lightly as she looked at him expectantly.
“Benedict then, Benedict Bridgerton,” he placed the pound notes on the counter and picked up the bouquet, wishing Jeanine a pleasant day before scurrying away.
So the annoyance finally had a name.
A few days had passed, and it felt like you had pushed the interaction successfully out of your mind, when the universe decided to spite you once again. You had already been at the front of the shop this morning, but you wished to do nothing other than sink to the floor or send one of your sisters in your place.
“So we meet again,” Benedict announced, overly joyful.
“Well you did just walk into the shop my family happens to own-”
“I was hoping to make your acquaintance once again-”
“At least one of us seems happy about it,” you conversed over each other, making it appear as if the dialogue had no point of breath.
“I firstly wished to inform you that the flowers worked wonders and greatly aided my brother in his apology-”
“Wonderful, now if that is all there is quite the queue forming behind you-”
“And that I have a plan to get you to change your mind,” Benedict finished his thought and it struck you silent. You must have done two or three big, slow blinks before what he said fully sank in, leaving you only more confused. “I must say, it is much easier to think when you are not constantly fighting back at me,” he smiled and you wanted to reach over the counter and smack that smile clean off his face.
“Change my mind? On the flowers? I thought you said they were a great success?”
“Oh no, not about the flowers,” he waved his finger back and forth in front of you, “about me”.
“About you?” You questioned with raised brows, a scoff of disbelief escaping past your lips.
“Yes. I noticed the other day we left off on quite the wrong foot and I would like to change your mind”.
“And why do you think that is Mr. Bridgerton?” you bent your elbows a little and leaned closer into him from your spot over the counter.
“Well I was not entirely sure, but I figured if I could get 10 minutes alone with you, your opinion of me would be much improved”.
“Has anyone ever told you they do not like you Mr. Bridgerton? Has anyone, especially someone below your status, been honest enough with you to display how they truly feel about you? You might consider that notion and find the root of our problem there. I know you do not care much for your high society Mr. Bridgerton,” you noticed his ears prick up, so to quickly shut him down, “and do not think too deeply about my knowing of you for Lady Whistledown has printed much more than I cared to know, but as soon as someone is off with you, you suddenly become interested. Your ego is much too inflated to reason with the fact that some people just might not like you, present company included, and you cannot stand it”.
Now it was Benedict’s turn to blink slowly, as your speech had halted all his energy to a standstill. “Good day, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shooed him out of the shop with your hand, waving forward the next customer who had been waiting very awkwardly a few paces behind this encounter. You sighed deeply, mentally resetting yourself back to your more demure customer service appearance.
Mr. Bridgerton had not been back for at least two weeks, not that you were counting of course, and though you claimed you were not thinking about him, you hated to admit how much that man had taken of your mental space. It did not help that Abigail was insistent that you two were fated to meet again somehow, even though you had explicitly told her you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Jeanine was upset that you had lost a valuable customer, but the money that he could have possibly brought in was the last thing on your mind. The season was usually a high reward time for your family’s shop anyway, you were sure one lord would not be such a loss.
On an afternoon that felt uncomfortably reminiscent of your first meeting, the bell above the front door rang as you were arranging a bouquet in the back. Abigail gasped from her spot in the doorway, and you did not even want to turn around and guess what caught her breath this time. “Oh my god,” Jeanine muttered, joining Abigail in the doorway as a pair of frantic feet made their way to your father at the counter. “Good afternoon, I should like to ask for a moment alone with Miss Y/N”.
You nearly dropped the flowers in your hands and stood staring at the wall while the heads of both your sisters whipped around to look at you, mouths dropped and eyes wide. Your father did not really know how to comprehend the situation, to be honest none of you did, but one nod from him and Abigail was grabbing the flowers out of your hands while Jeanine pushed you forward through the entryway. Your feet were cement, standing in front of the man that definitely had not been occupying your mind for days on end, his arms stuffed with different boxes and trinkets.
As if taking advantage of the silence, Benedict started, “I come bearing gifts. It occurred to me that I had no idea what your preferences were and with the safe answer of flowers obviously gone I got,” he dropped some of the goods on the counter, “these”. There were chocolates and pieces of jewellery and perfumes and accessories. You stared in awe at the collection before you, admiring the beauty of them all before you snapped back into reality. Benedict Bridgerton had come to spoil you in an attempt to win you over and you could not stand for it.
“If you think gifts are going to magically change my mind then you are-”
“Oh they are not for you. Well not exclusively anyway, I believed some of them to be for your family”.
It took your sisters absolutely no time at all to rush over to the counter, rummaging through all the items present and claiming their picks before your mother and father came to join you on either side. With a quick scolding from your mother and a muttered thank you to Benedict, your sisters were off, resuming their position in the doorway. “I hope I am not interrupting any major, I just wished to spend the afternoon with your daughter,” Benedict glanced between your parents, silently asking for permission.
“Well I do not see why not,” your mother replied, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Mother!” You hissed, surprised she would respond in the affirmative so quickly.
“What? It is not like you get out of here much anyway!” Your father piped up, making you tilt your chin down in embarrassment and kick his shin under the counter. Benedict stifled a laugh, and you could sense his eyes on you as you kept your head down. “The pleasure is all yours,” your father looked at Benedict as he and your mother stepped back, laughing between themselves.
“I figured a walk would do us both some good,” Benedict put his hands behind his back as you looked up at him, suddenly very aware of how much he towered over you.
“What makes you think I have the time to just step out and walk around with you? In case you were not aware, I am currently working-”
“Oh for god’s sake! Just go!” Jeanine yelled from the back, her and Abigail having given the two of you some privacy. You huffed, crossing your arms in front of you and mentally squaring up Benedict before rolling your eyes. “I suppose one afternoon wouldn’t hurt, but if you try anything I swear-”
His hands shot up in defence, “You have my word, nothing nefarious will take place. I simply want to walk”.
“A walk it is then,” you nodded, making your way around the counter and into the main section of the shop.
“I promise, you will not regret this,” Benedict commented, clearly happy with himself as he opened the door for you to walk through.
“Let’s not go making promises we’re not certain we can keep”.
“I feel pretty certain about this one”.
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction
107 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi, i saw your post about Dan Heng with a Female! Idol! Reader and i really loved it! <3
if you could, can you do a second part to that Dan Heng post? he’s one of my favourite characters and it would make me really happy! only again, because i loved it!!!
what i would like to request is…
Dan Heng gets nagged by March 7th to get her one of these sweets in Penacony because they’re ‘limited’ so he goes for her, with the location of the place in his phone. he pays attention to his phone to not realize in time that somebody crashed into him, he looks to see his favourite idol and he gets flustered. not only expecting him to see her, but to gain slight physical touch out of her and he finds out she’s been chased by a bunch of fans. he acts unconsciously and takes her to a nearby alleyway, hiding her close to hide her with a bunch of fans running around, looking for her and once its clear. in exchange, she takes him around Penacony to the nicest places since she is a VIP basically everywhere due to her fame and Dan Heng may have accidentally forgotten to get March 7th her ‘limited’ sweets, in which she blows up his phone but he doesn’t bother to respond.
please and thank you! <3
-> of course! The first part was so fun to write and I’m glad you enjoyed it so much!! I’d be happy to write Dan Heng as long as somebody requests it!
This is the link to part one if anybody wants to read it! - Part 1!
March 7th.
The girl he was cursing now, but the one who he would soon learn was a blessing. She had a tendency to be scrolling on any sort of social media when they were just relaxing on the expressing but never did he think he would all of a sudden be pulled out of his research and be dragged out into Penacony trying to find some limited edition sweet that she "needed". It was even worse since they had no idea where they were going since she had only seen a promo online about it, but it didn't have an address or anything on the page. Luckily with the little knowledge they had, they soon had an idea where they were supposed to be going and thank god for Google maps (or any sort of name you wanna use lol). Too bad he was so busy looking down at the directions not only did he lose March who ran off somewhere, but he had bumped into somebody. Great, now he actually had to speak to somebody. Just as he looked up to apologize to the person, he stopped.
There she was.
That Idol he's been researching and almost fainted when he realized that Caelus had gotten tickets to her concert, The (Name).
He's never apologized faster in his life, of course a blush growing on his face, I mean he just made physical contact with the girl of his dreams!! She seemed a little fractic, looking around as she told him all was fine and that she was in a rush, and that's when he noticed all the people who were also looking around frantically. That's when he put it together, they were looking for (Name). Ignoring the buzzing of his phone he quickly pocketed it and took her hand, trying to blush any harder, and pulled her into a small little alley. He tried to explain that, no, he wasn't trying to do anything bad but make sure those people didn't see her, with a quick laugh from her end she thanked him before waiting out a while, both ignoring the obnoxious buzzing from his pocket.
It was about 15-20 minutes before Dan Heng poked his head out and looked around before he gave a thumbs up, and just as he was about to pull out his phone and text March and ask where she was you spoke up.
"Hey.. um, so I wanted to thank you, and I know you haven't explored all of penacony with all the issues and stuff happening so how about I take you on a little tour? I can get you into all the VIP areas too!"
You asked with a smile, which in response he also slightly smiled back before leaving his phone in his pocket and following behind you as you walk out of the alley and start pointing things out.
It definitely didn't feel like only a couple hours before you two were done and just strolling around the city as the sunset was slowly turning into the dark blue of the night. Eventually the two of you made it back to the alley where you started and since it was already night you both decided that it would be a good idea to go your separate ways, and with a quick kiss to his cheek and another thank you, you hurried off back towards your house.
He was lost in his train of thought for a couple seconds with a blush that made him look like a tomato before he was broken out of it with a loud voice calling his name.
Right.
March.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#dan heng#dan heng x reader#xonavia's writings!
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't know if this has been done before (so if it has I apologize) and it may be a dead meme, but I have to preoccupy myself when I have downtime at work somehow and what better way then to make stupid period memes while I am ON my period??? :D
Ren:
Lawrence:
Strade:
Celia:
Derek:
Mason:
Fox:
#I took far too much time on this pleas enjoy lol#boyfriend to death#btd#the price of flesh#tpof#you kill me every time#ykmet#ren hana#lawrence oleander#strade#celia lede#derek goffard#mason heiral#btd memes#tpof memes#ren btd#lawrence btd#strade btd#strade ykmet#celia tpof#derek tpof#mason tpof#dumb meme#pad meme#picturing Strade asking what size your p sent me into a tizzy#also yes#it does bother me lawrence is on top while everyone else is on bottom but i am too lazy to fix it lul
83 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
