#idk what he's watching. the puppy bowl. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aemondsbabe · 1 year ago

Text

A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?”

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.”

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home.

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well.

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it.

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement.

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was.

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk.

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it.

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face.

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you.

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings.

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly.

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does.

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin.

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks.

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor.

“A… A great victory, master!”

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare.

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?”

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you.

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall.

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded.

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –”

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately.

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always!

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything.

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts.

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.”

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow.

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours.

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad.

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer.

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet.

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone.

A kindness, even now.

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly.

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.”

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head.

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers.

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot.

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter.

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace.

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow.

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.”

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.”

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them.

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way.

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill.

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again.

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?”

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip.

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his.

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same.

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you.

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers.

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself.

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises.

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples.

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm.

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold.

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine.

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking.

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives.

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason.

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his.

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm.

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend.

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine.

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her.

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion.

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore.

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now.

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again.

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you.

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say.

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly.

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close.

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew.

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips.

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you.

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else.

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet.

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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7ulpix · 6 months ago

Text

Simon Riley with AAF! Reader + Skincare 🫧

🫧 warning(s): girly/very feminine reader, very messy, not proofread!

paring - simon riley • reader

word count: 561

🫧 request - not one!

🫧 author's note - FIRST WRITING POST ON HERE?? HI HELLO just me rambling....british military man save me......reader is Simon's gf at the time!!!!! PLEASEPLEAS leave criticism, this is my first time writing for COD idk how to write for older guys 😞💔💔

- 🫧 -

After having a very busy day, Simon cannot wait to come home to his very bubbly girlfriend and adorable puppy, Riley. No matter how much of a bad mood he is in, the two always manage to soothe it instantly. As he opens the door he is welcomed by a very excited puppy and his girlfriend, both in the kitchen.

"What are yer' two up to?"

"Nothing much. Trying a new skincare remedy."

Simon had moved from his position by the door to leaning over your shoulder. He peeks down at the bowl you're currently stirring to see a brownish mixture of ingredients and the smell of.....coffee........

"Those my coffee beans yer' got in there, too?" (🤨)

"Needed them for the recipe to work."

"I need them in order for me to work."

You look up at him and stick your tongue out before continuing your stirring.

"It's supposed to help clear your skin and reduce redness and eyebags."

You finish stirring. Turning away to get two smaller bowls.

"Don't think Riley can eat this."

"The bowls are not for Riley silly, you're doing it too!"

"Me?"

"Yeah! We're both trying this out, pretty boy. Go get cleaned up."

Simon sighed very loudly in a sarcastic way as if he was so tired of being bossed around, walking to their shared room. After 20 minutes, Simon came out freshly clean after a shower, switched into black basketball shorts, and a black baggy shirt. His outfit was the complete opposite to his girlfriend: pink robe, pink bonnet, pink nails, black tanktop, pink minishorts, and bunny slippers. Even Riley, the scary German Shepard their neighbor downstairs hated, had a light pink collar. You had now moved into the bathroom with the two bowls, Riley sitting by the tub, most likely bored.

"Ready?"

"M' ready."

"Okay, just rub it all over your face. Avoid your mouth though, not very tasty."

"Tasted it, didn't ya?"

".......not the best, you can definitely taste the coffee beans."

You push one of the smaller bowls towards him. He grabs a bit of the mixture, slowly rubbing it on his face as much as he can. You do the same, rubbing it around your face.

"Okay, now we leave it on for about 15 minutes!!!"

"So what do we do in those 15 minutes?"

".......watch Teen Wolf?"

The next 15 minutes were spent on the couch, finishing season 1 of Teen Wolf with riley enjoying the headpats received. If Soap witnessed Ghost sitting and wztching a show like this, he would lose it. Simon never thought in his entire life, he would be sitting on his couch watching a young teens show about being turning into a hybird wolf. He also never thought he'd see Riley rolling around on the rug, while his girlfriend gives the most praise he's ever seen.

"Timers up! C'mon we gotta wash this off our face."

Simon's out of his daydreams and into the bathroom with you. You both wash your face, you even lean up to leave kisses on his chin and rubbing water onto Riley's face so he doesn't feel left out. You look back into the mirror, smiling noticing that small blemish from earlier, is gone. Simon doesn't see much change done to his face besides glowing a bit more. Kinda sad only you get to see that glowing face. <3

#cod #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x female reader #cod x f!reader #x female reader #x reader #fanfic writing #call of duty #call of duty x reader #x y/n #x you fluff #fluff #cod fluff #7ulpix #jellyfish cove - !#black reader

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beiasluv · 1 year ago

Text

ice creams? | cl16 + al12

a/n: Idk this is so random, lmk if you guys found it cute or weird 💀

Being a Monegasque resident had its perks – being the Leclercs’ neighbor also had its perks.

Like getting a bowl of Bouillabaisse when they heard you were sick, getting invited to Charles’s karting race – and he won, or babysitting the little devils. One of them was Charles, a seven-year-old, or what he likes to say that he is ‘thee years older than arth’; and Arthur, the four-year-old.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t much of a perk.

—

Fridays called for an extra long time in bed, snuggling into your air-conditioned room and, definitely, without a blasting ringing down your hallway – your cream-colored house phone, hanging by the bronzed framed mirror.

Groaning as you threw the pink duvet off your body, slipping into your slippers – not so sure whether your parents leaving for a business trip was so good after all.

“Hello?” You said, rubbing your eyes clear to make out the dimmed outlines of your hallway. Approaching midnight if your mental clock worked properly.

“Hi, chérie,” came the reply, the caller not sounding not so much better than you. “I’m sorry for calling in so late, is it possible for you to look after the boys–”

“Yes– yes, I’ll be over.” It slipped off your mouth, not sure whether where that urgency came from. Or was it the growing worry for the two little boys.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, chérie.” She sighed. “Lorenzo got himself in trouble, we’re going to the ER–”

“Maman, don’t worry. I got them,” you cut her off, shaking your head unconsciously. Perhaps biting your smile that how one of them managed to get in trouble again this week.

“Thank you so much, dear.”

Mumbling the last ‘see you’ to the speaker, you hung the handset back to its hook on the wall. Not that it was the end of the world babysitting the younger Leclercs, they were sweethearts – what’s the worst that could happen, right?

—

Everything came in a blur: knocking at their front door, Pascale and Harvé rushing to greet you while whisking Lorenzo out the door, and then seeing Charles and Arthur coloring with their crayons on the carpet in the middle of the living room.

The one that you were so sure was filled with tears a couple of hours ago while ‘whatever happened’ happened.

Now, the three of you found yourselves on the sofa, watching the television, and the boys stuffing their faces with popcorn just to make them a little bit fuller and slower.

Which, you were sure, was not happening any soon. They were restless. A giggling mess, if you will.

“Aren’t you guys a little tired?” You asked, trying to see if they were hinting just a little bit of a yearning for bed, that you were sure to whisk them away if they were. Yawning and rubbing your eyes were not helping.

Arthur got his little legs propped up in a ‘M-shaped’ way, while Charles snuggled next to your arms on the other side. They blinked their brown eyes from stimulating cartoons on the television to your eyes – still big and bright as ever.

"Nooo..." both Charles and Arthur replied almost at the same time, shaking their little heads left to right. The older one said with his mouth full of popcorn and the younger one continued to find his arms in an interesting position.

“Alright…what do you guys wanna do?” You appealed to in defeat, rubbing your eyes.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Arthur yelled, looking at his brother for a support. As if seeing the little gears turning in little Charles’s head, his little eyes litting up in the process.

"Yes! Please? Yn? Please?" Charles replied, leaving the popcorn bucket and candy bag on the table. Jumping up and down while giving you the best puppy eyes.

Sighing, there was no other choice. You either play the game or get dragged into some new invented game – that would definitely took more time to explain than to participate.

“Yes…yes,” your eyes turned upside down at their enthusiasm, wiping the popcorn from Arthur’s mouth corner. Booping Arthur’s nose softly, “You are the seeker.”

“Awe,” the younger one slumped on the couch. Dramatically lifting his arms as high as he could.

“Ha! What about me?” Charles interjected, intertwining between your arms – between you and Arthur.

“Charlie–”

“Start counting Arth!” Charles said with a change of mind as he run away with his little legs from Arthur – you doing the same. With the only goal of finding a good spot, maybe you’ll get a little nap while Arthur tries to navigate the house.

—

Long enough, you finally heard a higher-pitched laughter followed by a slightly lower-pitched groan: letting you know that they got back together. Besides, the stumbling sounds enlightened you that they started looking through the kitchen, they opened the refrigerator, the pantry, the cabinets...

They ran everywhere, yelling and laughing. Sometimes just to hear the other one laughing too.

“Yn!” “Where are you!”

Little hands grabbing all the places they could grab, climbing on top of each other if they wanted – still looking around and getting into weird positions to look under the furniture.

Charles and Arthur started to get a little frustrated at not finding you, and this little bit of stress made them nervous, making all kind of noises.

"Where is she? Where is she?" Charles yelled, looking at his younger brother – his head getting a little redder from looking upside down under the cabinets.

"Maybe she is in the bathroom! Or maybe she ran out of the house?" Arthur replied, in a loud voice, getting into weird positions too.

"Maybe she went to papa’s room!" Charles replied, and both he and his younger brother ran their little ways up the stairs to check the adults' bedroom.

The room stood still as they pushed the door open. There was maman’s perfume on her side table, papa’s reading glasses on the other side, and something on the dresser – too tall for them to see. The two little boys searched every corner, they even checked under the bed, but there was no trace of your jeans hem or khaki sweater.

At that moment, they were starting to get hopeless, and they did what hopeless children do best: sniffling.

Little sniffles turned into hiccups, hiccups turned into cries. Arthur seeing his brother wiping his little eyes dry, he found himself slumping on the floor, mimicking Charles’s teary eyes.

“Oh, no– I’m here– awe, guys–”

Without wasting another minute, the boys ran to hug you – clinging and wiping their faces onto your sweater. You welcomed them with open arms, and little kiss for each one.

“We couldn’t find you!” Charles hiccuped out, faltered-heartily, while Arthur just nodded and mumbled something. Now, they were like a pair of puppies, begging for your attention.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled at the sight, rubbing and patting their backs.

“No funny!” Arthur hid is face in your chest.

The little boys remained in your arms, hugging tightly, like two pieces of dough. Tears resided into just stains and hiccups returned into sniffles.

“Alright– I’m sorry,” you nodded, making zipping motion while continuing rubbing their arms. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Just maybe the fact that Charles slowly tear his face away from comfort, showing cheeky smiles…

“Can we have some ice cream?”

“Please? Please?" Arthur replied, with his head still down, hugging her with all his might.

“But you guys already had…” knowing they are a little faltered hearted at the incident – maybe using it to their little advantages. “fine. But no more–”

"Yay!!" they replied in excitement, jumping out of your arms, but keeping you close by. “Thank you Yn!”

Now more hopeful and happy, the little boys ran towards the kitchen without saying another word. They were now a duo in a mission for food, and to cause as much trouble as possible on their route…

I have a mark fic incoming…lmk if you guys are interested??😘😘

interact if y’all liked it, do what ever you want. Imma start writing fics again 💀

today’s a good day to take care of yourself!!

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thebisexualdogdad · 1 year ago

Note

idk if your still doing one peice but i just read your bring back a puppy fic and was wondering if you could do the same situation but woth a cat instead preferably gn please and thank you

Luffy -

● lays on his stomach on the ground and stares at them

● gives them a speech about what it's like to be a member of the strawhat crew

● tries to be serious until the kitten stumbles up to him and licks his nose and he bursts out laughing

● “how does it feel to be the cutest member of the crew”

● you “are you saying the kitten is cuter than me?”

Nami -

● is the personification of an orange cat in real life

● she gets much entertainment out of all the chaos the kitten creates

● especially when she watches the kitten running away with a piece of fish Sanji was about to cook and him running after them

● you “should we do something?”

● Nami “no way this is hilarious look Sanji just fell”

Sanji -

● gets spooked by the kitten always showing up out of nowhere

● he'll be cooking and he turns around for a split second and the kitten is suddenly on the counter heading towards his food

● “don't you dare!”

● they stick their paw in the bowl and Sanji just sighs and pours himself a glass of wine to cope

Zoro -

● makes everyone think he doesn't like the kitten

● but is secretly really excited

● he plays with them when you aren't looking

● and sneaks them food while you're eating dinner

● you even found him asleep with the kitten laying on his chest

Usopp -

● is more of a dog person but is fine with a kitten too

● just kind of chills with the kitten in his lap

● “I am not cleaning the litter box”

● proceeds to get stuck cleaning the litter box because he can't say no to you

Shanks -

● is so soft with them

● let's the kitten nibble on his fingers and just laughs

● puts them on his shoulder and walks around like that

● gets them a little hat and calls them his co captain

● “I thought I was your co captain?”

● “you can both be my co captains”

Buggy -

● doesn't know what to do them

● “so… does it know any tricks?”

● gets so mad when they start chewing on his hair

● “Hey! Stop that you miscreant!”

● uses his powers to detach his hand to pick them up and put them in time out on the other side of the room

Mihawk -

● nonstop argues with the kitten

● it smacks him in the face and he's speechless

● “wha- you- Y/N did you see what this thing just did?!”

● you're dying laughing that Mihawk has beef with a kitten

#one piece imagine #monkey d luffy imagine #monkey d luffy x reader #nami imagine #nami x reader #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #shanks imagine #shanks x reader #buggy imagine #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk imagine #dracule mihawk x reader #x gender neutral reader #preferences

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sooniebby · 2 years ago

Note

so.... ive read your izuku fanfic and damn they were sooo good i wanna cry t__t anywaaaays, idk if ur requests are open or nah so can i request puppy persona!m!reader x timeskip sakusa kiyoomi from haikyuu, whereas reader is sakusa's s/o and when sakusa publishes reader as his s/o on his insta (he posts their pic tgt) someone's commenting bad about reader and he saw it, what happens next is up to you :DDD stay healthy xoxo

ఌ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

❝ 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙? ❞

꧁ 𝙆𝙞𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙢𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count �� 1.9k

Rating › SFW

Warnings › minor homophobia

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Kiyoomi felt great. His team had just won a game and they were close to getting a spot in the semi finals. Pulling up his mask, he swiftly left the locker room, aiming the just shower at home. Still, even as he grew up, crowds bothered him.

Most of his fans seemed to get the message by now as they mostly stayed at least five feet away from him. Though it took some screaming from his manager.

“You did so good, Sakusa!!” A girl screamed.

Kiyoomi simply gave her a curt nod, walking over to the car that his manager drove. He swore he could hear a loud shriek and then a thud.

Weirdos.

The drove home took longer as his manager made sure to take a long route so that no one would follow him. Kiyoomi wasn’t even sure why some fans wanted to know where he lived. He wasn’t going to invite them inside, are they stupid?

“Thanks.” Kiyoomi’s word was muffled but his manager gave him a thumbs up.

He got inside his apartment complex and punched in the code to his door—ready to get attacked by his overly excited boyfriend.

Which he was.

Kiyoomi being the taller one, and used to this, he easily caught his boyfriend and walked inside as if this was a normal thing. It technically was. He wasn’t sure if he hated it or loved it but he hasn’t asked (Name) to stop so it was borderline tolerable at the least.

“How was the game?” (Name) asked, wrapping his legs around Kiyoomi waist as he shuffled around to take off his mask and shoes.

“I’m sweaty.”

“So?”

“I wanna bathe.”

(Name) smirked. “With me?”

Kiyoomi pushed him off, with just enough force to not actually hurt him. “Absolutely not. I’m tired.”

(Name) whined as he watched his boyfriend go off to their bedroom to take a bath. He pouted to himself as he went into the kitchen to take out Kiyoomi’s dish of curry.

The two of them had met by chance, really. (Name) wasn’t into volleyball. In reality, he hated sports in general. He had gone to Karasuno so it’s a shock they had even met. It was honestly by luck when Kiyoomi went on a dating app under a fake name and ended up matching with him.

It was a bit rocky at the start. Their vastly different personalities caused some clashes in the relationship. But it was better now, except (Name) had a problem.

He wanted people to know that they were dating. But he knew why Kiyoomi didn’t tell his fans or anyone that wasn’t his family.

Some fangirls had… problems with their faves dating. (Name) was always confused by this. Kiyoomi wasn’t an idol or anything. He was a volleyball player—who really thought they had a chance with him?

Well, he randomly got a chance with him…

(Name) brushed the thought away. He should be glad that Kiyoomi even told his parents about him. It was about a few minutes later when Kiyoomi joined him in the kitchen dressed in some pyjama bottoms. (Name) smirked at him, a playful look in his eyes as he looked him up and down.

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” (Name) pouted, handing him the bowl of curry.

“Didn’t have to.”

ꕤ

Kiyoomi yawned as he laid down in bed, ready to sleep for over 12 hours after such a harsh game when his phone rang. He cursed as he reached over and answered it, knowing it was his manager.

She’s the only one who’d dare to call him after a big game.

“Sakusa! Sorry to bother you but you forgot to post a picture today!” She yelled, causing him to wince.

It was a tradition that his manager came up with. After any game, especially if he won, to post a picture of him thanking anyone who came to the game. It was nice in theory because it made his account seem alive when he only posted like twice a year before this tradition.

It also helped him go viral to gain no fans. But they weren’t really the fans he liked. They were the fans that liked him for his looks—not his skills as a player. He hated it but hey, ticket sales were higher each next game when he did this.

Besides, his true fans seemed to also like the rare photos he did. Might as well reward them.

“Alright,” he said before hanging up.

A shirtless picture with only his lamp to illuminate him would certainly gain more attention then his usual covered up ones. He was in a semi good mood away. Kiyoomi positioned his phone upward to get mostly his face and bare shoulders, showing that he was indeed shirtless.

He hit post and quickly went to sleep

What he didn’t know was that he forgot to angle (Name) out of the picture. (Name) was already asleep on the bed, facing towards Kiyoomi so his full face was in the photo.

Anyone with eyes could tell he wasn’t a friend he’s ever posted before and that (Name) was shirtless as well.

Yeah, Kiyoomi (really his manager) was screwed in the morning.

ꕤ

(Name) woke up to Kiyoomi pressing a kiss on his neck before leaving for his workout of the day. He stayed in bed for a while before getting out, checking his phone for his account on social media. (Name) wasn’t famous by any means but he did have a decent 10k followers for just posting pictures of himself.

He knew it was mainly people who thought he was cute but he didn’t mind. So many of his comments said he was like a puppy, looks and personality wise. He kinda led into it by this point—jokingly wearing dog ears in some pictures that his fans and friends loved.

To anyone else, it’d look a bit weird but he didn’t care.

(Name) frowned when he saw the amount of notifications he got.

Weird, he usually didn’t get this much unless he posted something but he hasn’t in at least a week or two. He checked them out and he felt scared. The comments that mentioned his username was talking about him being a weirdo.

And it was Kiyoomi’s fans. Their icons almost all had his face in it.

(Name) checked Kiyoomi’s account and cursed when he saw the recent picture he posted last name. There he was in the background. If there wasn’t anyone practically attacking him right now, he’d say how handsome and sexy his boyfriend is but he couldn’t.

Was this what his fans felt?

Was he really that ugly?

He shouldn’t have but he did. (Name) spent almost an hour just looking at all of the comments on Kiyoomi’s post and his own account. A few people were fighting back against the obsessed fans—stating how creepy they were acting.

But it was like fighting against the ocean. It was too much. So many kept saying that he must’ve corrupted Kiyoomi into being a homosexual.

Wow, Kiyoomi was right to hide their relationship.

“(Name)?”

Kiyoomi was in the bedroom suddenly. When did he get there? (Name) felt Kiyoomi wipe away his tears, a small frown on his lips. When did he start crying?

“What happened?”

(Name) opened his mouth but only a sob came out and his tackled Kiyoomi into a hug. He cried his heart out, not caring at how sweaty Kiyoomi was. Large arms held him tight, as Kiyoomi didn’t ask any questions. He just allowed him to cry out.

It wasn’t until Kiyoomi’s phone rang that he pulled away, pressing a kiss on (Name)’s forehead. He reached over for his phone on the nightstand. He never took his phone with him on workouts.

He just never saw the point in it. There was numerous miss calls from a few of his teammates and his manager. He called back his manager, Miss Watanabe, pulling (Name) back into his arms for some cuddling that he gladly returned.

“Hello?”

“Sakusa!! Finally, shit! If you wanted to come out you should’ve told me! We could’ve done it in a more less surprising way!” She cursed, sounding weirdly stressed out.

“I haven’t come out… What are you talking about?”

“The picture…” It was silent. “Oh no, Sakusa, was it by accident?! Shit, shit. It’s too late to delete. Oh god.”

Kiyoomi put Ms. Watanabe on speaker and checked his account, seeing his picture certainly did went viral.

And for all the wrong reason. He saw every comment that bashed (Name) and even checked his account to see them calling him a freak for wearing dog ears. Kiyoomi was angry.

He wanted so desperately to just make them vanish out of thin air (kill them) but he knew he had to make sure (Name) was alright.

“There’s a fan meet next week before the big game… I’ll come up with a speech for you to talk about it!”

“Why would I need a speech? I’ll just saw he’s my boyfriend.”

“Uh, are you sure…?”

Kiyoomi hummed, glancing down at (Name) who had stopped crying by now and was actively listening to the conversation. “It’s time they knew.”

“Ah,” Ms. Watanabe sounded as if she wanted to disagree but stopped herself. “Alright. I’ll stand by you. Do you want to delete the post still? It might not do much but it’ll delete the comments.”

“No. I’m going to post something. Bye.”

“Oh, uh, bye.”

(Name) sighed. “You don’t think I’m weird right?”

“No. You are a cute dog. My dog,” Kiyoomi said, a hint of teasing in his voice as he gently grasped (Name)’s neck. (Name), despite his puffy red eyes and teared stained face, smirked.

“Need me to get my collar?”

“Now you made it weird.”

“Oh you’re no fun!”

Kiyoomi simply smiled, as much as he did really, and stood up. “I’m going to take a shower. Get dressed, you have to look good for our picture.”

“Our picture?”

(Name) was honestly shocked. Kiyoomi was going to take a picture with him. He had made (Name) wear the dog ears (but not the collar) and dress in their matching sweaters that Kiyoomi didn’t even like wearing often. Just who was this man and where was his boyfriend?

They were sitting on the couch as Kiyoomi pulled out his phone to take multiple photos—vastly different from his usual one. Each pose was different. One was just them leaning in close, another was Kiyoomi playfully biting his cheeks and a few was of them kissing.

It was, in Kiyoomi’s word, a way for them to not deny it.

He captioned it as a full sentence instead of his usual one word.

My dog is better than yours. Love you, (Name).

(Name) giggled to himself ignoring the weird look Kiyoomi gave him. He tackled him into a hug, babbling on and on about how happy he was to have the world know he was his.

It really took only two minutes before Kiyoomi’s phone began buzzing like crazy. He hesitated to grab it but knew he should at least see what they were saying. To his surprise, a lot of them were kind, a few shocked by the somewhat “kinky” display but happy for him none the less.

Though there was one that caught his eye by a random model he noticed that always commented on his post as soon as possible.

Seriously?! Why him?! With all the people in the world?! To think I thought you were hot.

Kiyoomi never comments. But he did just this once. He wanted them to know that he’d never take any disrespect from his fans on his lover.

Are you stupid?

And that’s all was what needed to be said. He shut off his phone and pulled (Name) into a long cuddle on the couch.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Request number two!! I wasn’t sure what you meant by puppy persona so I just adapted it like that, hopefully it’s fine!

Requests are open!

The request for tomorrow is a threesome with characters from BNHA :)

#bottom male reader

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baldval · 11 months ago

Note

Since you made one for Valentine’s Day, how bout celebrating Halloween with the main hazbin cast? Maybe Charlie is throwing a Halloween party or something!

HALLOWEEN W HAZBIN! ₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, alastor

warnings: nothing :)

a/n: idk if i like alastor's part, he's just so hard to write imo😭😭 pls tell me what you think guys🤞

VOX:

꩜ it’s obvious to anyone that vox looooves halloween.

꩜ he’s claimed to you on several occasions that it’s his favorite holiday.

꩜ and that getting the chance to spend it with you only makes it better.

꩜ and how does vox spend Halloween? two words.

꩜ haunted house.

꩜ you never really understood the concept of having those on hell.

꩜ hell is already scary as it is.

꩜ however, being an overlord, having the control that vox has, eliminates some of the fear most people normally feel.

꩜ so a haunted house is his favourite place to go when he wants to feel some of that adrenaline.

꩜ he picked you up that night and away you went, ready to get your scare-factor on.

꩜ darling, if you get scared, just let me know!” he pointed to himself with a grin "i'll stop the whole thing, i swear".

꩜ “afterall, I wouldn’t be much of a man if I can’t protect the person I care about most.” he smiles at you and you can't help blushing.

꩜ you stuck to him like glue, laughing and screaming through every house you went through.

꩜ it was well into the night before you both decided to call it.

꩜ your throats raw and blood pumping from the adrenaline.

꩜ but even in your stupor, vox still managed to take your breath away once he brought you back to your apartment.

꩜ his arms circled around you as he kisses your face.

꩜ you bury your face in his neck as you hug him goodbye.

CHARLIE:

꩜ as far as charlie is concerned, you can’t celebrate Halloween without a good time.

꩜ and to her, the best way to do that is with a party!

꩜ she throws one once every year at the hotel, because, how could she not?

꩜ “you’ll come right? you have to! pleeeease!”

꩜ she’s so adorably persistent, eyes all puppy dog wide and hands folded.

꩜ your answer is obvious.

꩜ and it had her jumping up and down throughout the whole lobby.

꩜ upon arriving at the hotel, you were completely in awe of the change of scenery.

꩜ what once had a reddish vintage look now practically screamed 'halloween'.

꩜ costumes, decorations, snacks, bowls filled with candy, games, music.

꩜ you knew your girlfriend sure took things to the extreme, but nonetheless, it was always fun.

VALENTINO:

꩜ valentino loves halloween.

꩜ you could say he likes it for the aesthetic and you would be right.

꩜ he'd invite you over that night to spend the evening with him.

꩜ you thought maybe you were gonna go to a halloween party, somewhere filled with decorations and people.

꩜ but when you get to his house you only see a mountain of scary and halloween themed movies piled high on the coffee table in his living room.

꩜ along with a bowl of popcorn, soda, and a selection of only your favourite candies of course.

꩜ “are we… gonna watch all of these?”

꩜ "well duh. why? you got something else to do?”

꩜ unexpected, indeed, but who would complain?

꩜ it was hard to pick which movie to watch first since he had such an extensive collection, but you both decided to kick things off with the classic 'the nightmare before christmas'.

꩜ after that, 'carrie', 'scream', 'anabelle', 'halloween' too of course.

꩜ name it, and valentino had it.

꩜ you sat on the sofa between his legs the entire time, bowl of popcorn in your lap, and you silently fed him pieces of the salty snack while he unwrapped and fed you bits of candy.

꩜ it was the perfect way to spend halloween and you wished you could have gone at it all night.

꩜ but after the 7th film, you had promptly knocked out against val’s chest, popcorn bowl empty.

꩜ but instead of waking you up, he merely shut off the tv and covered both your bodies with a blanket, kissing your forehead.

LUCIFER:

꩜ you're getting ready as you anxiously wait for the king of hell.

꩜ the hotel was organising a halloween party, and of course you couldn't miss it.

꩜ and of course you were going with lucifer.

꩜ you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mingled with nerves.

꩜ just as you were beginning to think he might not show, you heard a knock at the door.

꩜ with a mischievous grin, he strutted over to you.

꩜ "sorry for the delay, darling," he said, offering you his hand. "hope you didn't wait too long."

꩜ you accepted his hand, feeling a thrill run down your spine as his fingers intertwined with yours.

꩜ "not at all," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach.

꩜ together, you walked in to the lobby, greeted by the lively sounds of the halloween party in full swing.

꩜ you were sitting at the bar, just chatting.

꩜ "i have to go to the bathroom, i'll be right back" he says with a wink as he leaves.

꩜ "hmm so he really is in love with you" you hear husk, the bartender, say.

꩜ "oh so you've doubted that?"

꩜ "not really, it's just that it's the first time i see it in live action".

꩜ "what do you mean?" you question him.

꩜ "i mean, do you see the way he stares at you as you talk." he fills up a glass. "pure adoration."

꩜ you feel heat creeping up your cheeks and turn around before husk realises how flushed you are.

꩜ lucifer gets back and it isn't long before you find yourselves in the ballroom.

꩜ with a twirl, he pulls you into his arms, and the two of you began to dance to the infectious beat of the music.

꩜ as you moved together, laughter bubbled up between you, your clothes swishing in tune with the music.

꩜ "you know," he says, his voice low as he spun you around, "there's nothing i would want more in the world that being with you."

꩜ you couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spreading through you.

꩜ "well i can assure you it goes both ways." you replied, caught up in the moment as you gazed into his eyes.

ALASTOR:

꩜ it does surprise you that the radio demon has no idea what halloween is.

꩜ he comes up to you and asks you why the whole lobby is filled with pumpkins and little paper ghosts and black and orange streamers.

꩜ you simply smile and say, “it’s halloween!”

꩜ “oh…”

꩜ it’s not that he didn’t know what hallowen was, he explained to you.

꩜ he just wasn’t really aware of what occurred during the holiday itself.

꩜ so you decided it was time to change that.

꩜ you told him to meet you at your room, not giving him any more details than that.

꩜ when he arrived, you took him by the hand and led him towards one of the best places you could possibly think of to give him a proper introduction to the spookiest night of the year.

꩜ the pumpkin patch.

꩜ upon arriving, alastor seemed absolutely awestruck at all the different things there were to do.

꩜ the corn maze, hayride, petting zoo (to which you found out that alastor is a major softie for animals).

꩜ and of course, pumpkin carving.

꩜ it was so cute watching his expressions.

꩜ how his brow would furrow when he tried removing the guts and how his tongue would poke out when he began working on the face.

꩜ you almost forgot you had your own pumpkin to carve.

꩜ you both left in the later evening, hand in hand as the stars twinkled above you.

꩜ “so what did you think? did you have fun?”

꩜ you were expecting a nod, or a quick little hum.

꩜ but he straight whisked you off your feet and into his arms.

꩜ and you knew that right now, the smile on his face was truly genuine.

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star-writes-sometimes · 1 year ago

Text

green butter

word count - 2.2k

c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader

a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet

—

you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.

you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.

you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep.

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.

“wake up please lupin.”

he just groaned and shifted tiredly.

“pleaaaseeee.”

he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.

“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”

“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.

“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”

“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”

“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”

“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”

“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”

“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.

“do you want dinner, love?”

“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”

“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”

“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”

you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”

“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”

your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”

you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.

"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.

"mhmm." he hummed in response.

you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.

remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you.

"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.

"yeah i made it earlier."

remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."

you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."

"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.

"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."

"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."

"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."

he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.

"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.

"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.

remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.

eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.

“rem?”

“hmmm?”

“did you eat more butter?”

“you have no proof of that.”

“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”

“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”

“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”

remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow”

“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”

“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”

you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”

—

forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.

he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.

“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.

“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."

“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”

“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”

“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.

he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”

you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”

he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”

he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”

it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”

“that scary fucker was right.”

“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”

“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”

“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”

“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”

you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”

he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”

“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.

“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.

your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”

he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you.

“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.

“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.

“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.

he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.

“remus, lovie?”

he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.

“can we go to bed?”

he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”

“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.

“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.

“we'll stay together the whole time.”

“promise?” he said softly.

“pinky promise.”

at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.

you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.

“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”

“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”

“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”

“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”

you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.

you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.

his eyes were bloodshot.

he was high.

you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”

“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.

“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”

he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.

you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”

“you keep me stable.”

“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”

“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”

you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.

“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.

you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.

he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”

you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”

“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”

“well we can’t have that now can we.”

it was silent for a few moments.

“what do giraffe’s eat?”

“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”

“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”

“for harold?”

“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”

you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”

“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”

“goodnight remmy.”

“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”

you could pretend it was real.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #dealer!remus x baker!reader #dealer!remus #baker!reader #remus lupin fluff #domestic remus lupin

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years ago

Note

Okay idk if u wanna do this but May I request a crossover of vita Carnis and Mandela Catalouge headcanons?..

For Adam,Jonah and Mark. Basically they arrive at theyre s/o’s House..and find out they have a pet trimming named Meatloaf or something.s/o treat them like they’re baby like any pet owner would,what are they’re reactions?

Awwwwe yeah my two current analog horror fixations let's goooo

.......

Adam

He shows up at your door right as you were getting food for your pet.

It was especially important that you fed it at this particular time so it would settle down for the night...

But Adam's persistent knocking forces you to stop and answer the door, momentarily leaving it with an empty bowl.

"Adam? What are you doing here so late?"

"Did you get my message? Our client wants us to go to his place now. I got the salt and everything."

"...he's gonna have to wait a minute. I just gotta feed my pet and-"

"C'mon, babe. We can't lose this offer. I'm sure your pet's not gonna starve to dea-"

All of the sudden, both of you hear metal scraping and a loud whining noise that sounded like a dying animal, startling Adam while you just stare blankly at him. "You were saying?"

"..what the hell was that?????"

You decide it's better to just show him, so you go back inside and introduce him to your pet: a small six-legged fat lump of raw red meat with a collar around its neck.

"What the fuck is that?? An alien??"

"No, it's a Trimming. And their name is Meatloaf."

"....that literally explains nothing."

After feeding your Trimming and calming it down, you told Adam a little bit about its role in the Vita Carnis family.

Where you're from, they're common house pets, being even more popular than dogs or cats as they were docile and willing to eat anything.

When you're done explaining, he just stares at Meatloaf for a while, who's now swaddled in a blanket and curled up in your lap.

It looks kinda gross, but he is intrigued.

Apparently, it's trained to sniff out Mimics and scream when it detects one....which has saved your life on multiple occasions, and it did the same when it sensed an Alternate in your house not long after you moved here.

That's cool.

He thinks you should bring it on BPS assignments.

Jonah

On the other hand....

When you mentioned owning an exotic pet, Jonah didn't expect anything like this when he showed up uninvited, letting himself in with a spare key.

"Hey I brought some pizza for--WHAT THE HELL IS THAT, S/O?!!

Babe, please don't scream-"

"Am I tripping or is tHAT A FUCKING FETUS??!!!!" He points wildly to the Trimming sitting in your kitchen sink, covered in soap and looking saddened bc your bf interrupted bath time.

Meanwhile, you're pissed off by his yelling and covered its sensitive ears, glaring at him. "Will you calm down? This is a Trimming..you haven't heard of them?"

"No???? It looks like the goddamn chestburster from Alien! What is it?!!"

He was ready to run out of the house, but you convinced him to stay and you explained what a Trimming is, rinsing off the soap while doing so.

Poor guy's still trying to comprehend why (and how) a thing like this even exists, eyes wide as he watches you dry it off and care for it like you would a puppy or kitten.

It doesn't help that you call it "Meatloaf" and have a cute little bow on its collar/head.

Nothing you say will stop him from getting nauseous, suddenly losing his appetite for the pizza (especially since he got pepperoni and sausage on it).

You reassure him it's not gonna go to waste, instead feeding it to Meatloaf in bite-sized pieces.

Jonah's just in shock as it happily devours them with no hesitation, before it waddles back into your arms for cuddles.

You made it your mission to get him to hold it, trying to show him it's not scary at all.

It's....still a work in progress.

Mark

You knew exactly what he was gonna think of your Trimming.

So you explained what it was exactly, even showing him a photo so he's better prepared to meet it when he comes over.

The last thing you wanted was for him to scream "demon" and throw a bible at your sweet little nondemonic meat pet.

But still...he clams up when you greet him at the door, holding Meatloaf in one arm.

"O-Oh, it's..uh....cute...?" Mark tries his best to be polite, yet his face is as pale as a ghost's.

You're just relieved he didn't panic and cause a huge scene.

However, for a normally social creature...Meatloaf became unusually shy around him, flinching away when he attempted to pet it and whining if you put it down for too long.

It constantly followed you, refusing to be in the same room as him.

This keeps happening whenever he visits, and he's unsure what to do.

So one day he asks if it'll ever warm up to him.

"Oh! How could I forget? Trimmings usually like it when they're sorta "involved" in conversations..if that makes sense." You tell him. "Meatloaf probably thinks you're unfriendly because you talk to only me when you come over."

"....so..how do I fix that? By talking to it myself?"

"Yep!"

"Will it...understand me?"

"Not sure, but it just likes hearing chatter." You then speak to Meatloaf, scratching under its chin to stir it from sleep. "Hey, Loafy. My boyfriend wants to tell you something."

With the Trimming now looking at Mark, he feels...awkward, but he finally stutters something.

"H-Hey, uh...so I'm Mark. But you probably know that. S/o talks about me a lot and...uh....anyways we've been together for a few months. Sorry if I didn't seem that "friendly" to you, but I hope um...you...approve of us..?"

He trails off as it shifts out of your hold and climbs into his lap, curling up and cooing happily.

His eyes are HUGE and he's filled with fear(tm), but eventually makes the brave decision to pat its fleshy head, hearing it...purring?

Then you see his smile.

You're extremely happy about this bonding moment and had to snap a picture of the two.

'Yeah, this one's definitely for the books'

#crossover of the century right here #clanask #anonymous #mandela catalogue x reader #vita carnis x reader #mark heathcliff #mark heathcliff x reader #adam murray #adam murray x reader #jonah marshall #jonah marshall x reader #headcanons #crossover

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lovemeafterhrs · 1 year ago

Note

idk if ur takin requests girl but i’m fr begging for any kuroo content like ur suna smoke fic i will pay good good dalla for that

my requests are currently closed but you’ve inspired me so i whipped up a little somethin’ just for you :P

“kuroo.. what the fuck.” you guffaw, making direct eye contact with the googly eyes attached to your roommate’s new six foot bong.

“got it on a sale, you like it?”

“i mean, yeah. but i’m not sure it’s the most practical.” you shrug, taking a closer look at the pools of color trapped inside the glass. “the eyes are a nice touch.”

“right? please tell me you have your grinder.”

“fuck. i’ll call kenma.” you frown, reaching for your phone in hopes of getting ahold of the grumpy blonde that’s currently in possession of the only thing you’re lacking.

after approximately seven calls between the two of you, kenma arrives at the apartment looking like he just crawled out of the trenches of hell.

the first thing that catches his eye is the comically large water pipe, standing tall above everyone in the room besides the rooster-headed man. soulless plastic eyeballs glare at him forebodingly as he takes a few steps towards the couch.

“you losers woke me up after my twelve hour shift for this?”

“well, yeah.” kuroo grins as he reaches for the sealed container.

“you still have my grinder.” you add, tone playful as you wrap your arm around kenma’s shoulders. he hands it over to you with a sigh, letting you lead him towards the couch.

“you left it at my house.” his reply earns an offended gasp from you, pretending his words aren’t completely true as you watch kuroo plop ice cubes down the neck of the bong.

both you and kenma have to stand on top of the couch cushions to even reach the mouthpiece, and each hit is a duel effort as the other lights the bowl from the floor.

kuroo finds it to be far too comical, until he tries to take a hit and it nearly fucking kills him. it doesn’t help that you’re kneeled on the floor in front of him, eyes glazed over as you watch him cough and die.

tetsurou learns far too quickly that his new purchase is more for decoration than practicality, and after a couple rounds around the circle he’s back to rolling joints at the kitchen table.

across from him, kenma’s barely paying attention to his friend’s babbling. he’s far more content silently playing video games on his switch while he waits for you to finally make something to eat, but he supposes it would be kinder to listen for once.

you however, have chosen to tune them out for the time being as you brown strips of chicken on the stovetop.

“it’s a waste of money.” you tune back in just in time to catch kozume’s snide remark, followed shortly by a loud, offended huff.

“it is not! fuck this, i’m trying it again.” just like that, kuroo’s jumping from his seat to prove him wrong. you hear the soft patter of kenma’s footsteps as he follows his friend to the living room, and you focus back in on the task at hand.

your moment of peace does not last for very long.

preparations for dinner are abruptly halted when you hear a loud crash followed by the sound of glass hitting the floor.

a loud screech fills your ears, and you turn the corner to find tetsurou hunched over in front of the remains of his shiny new piece. bong water coats the knees of his pants as he mourns, looking like a kicked puppy as he sniffles from the floor.

“dumbass.” kenma huffs, bowl piece still loaded in his hands as he shakes his head at his best friend.

#opened up my eyes to stoner kuroo..#i just know bro made his own gravity bong before he bought his first piece 😭😭#using this as an opportunity to practice my second person perspective..#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurō #i haven’t written kuroo content since like 2020 im a tad rusty..

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lizadale · 2 years ago

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Miss, I've got a delivery for you. From... fluff town? But somehow with no return address. I apologize for the inconvenience.

☁️c(V●ᴥ●V) (there's no cotton candy emoji ;-;)

[They wake up again. Now that's what one would consider too much napping for a day.

Luigi's carrying Polterpup under his arm, the motion of shifting them itself didn't wake them up. It was the motion of walking that did. The dog struggles a little and Luigi let them go. But they follow him to wherever he wants to go.

He got into a room with a bed and a people's bed, along with other stuff. That's neat. Dimentio was sitting on the people's bed, getting something from a bag. If memory serves them right, there are clothes in there.

Luigi shows the dog the bed and the bowls hidden behind it. In the bowls, there was water and wet food.

"Buddy, they forgot you're a ghost while fixing the room huh." He says stepping to the side, to get out of their way.

"I'm glad they did, "Wet snacks are one of the puppy's favorite snacks, along with fish cookies, bone cookies, and actual bones. " I didn't bring its bag."

'Nooo,' They howl. The thought of not having the snacks from home saddens the puppy who while will forget about it to finish their current meal, would like to have some of Luigi's homemade treats later.

("Why?" Luigi ask, stepping closer to the bed and away from the puppy's 'splash zone.'

"I couldn't find it," Dimentio says, pulling out both their pajamas out of the bag. Besides that, there was only a spare set of clothes in case of a repeat of the sauce incident. Legend says Dimentio's hair still smells like tomatoes to this day.

"It wasn't on top of the fridge where i placed it?"

"On top of the fridge?"

"It doesn't go there"

"Yes it does."

"Ugh..."

"No. Don't you dare." He scoots closer and started poking Luigi in the arm "Of course the tree, the light pole, the... yOU- stop laughing. this is an attack. -You expect me to guess on top of the fridge." He starts

"And I'll do it again." Luigi gets Dimentio's hands. "I'll take a bath, be right back." he kisses them before letting go.)

Dimentio when sees the puppy getting comfortable in the bed and gestures for them to come.

"Can you believe him?" He gestures to the door on the side and they kiss his elbow "I mean how... Stop."

They do stop and lay their head on the pillow. He looks at his arm and cringe.

"Ew." He regards the food's slime that was still on the pup's tongue and now is on his skin. "You know what? go to your bed." He orders "I just can't. Good night."

They obey because they have to wait for a little after eating to play. Luigi's watch beeped ten times and Dimentio grumbled in annoyance to mark Puppy's third nap of the day.]

This is becoming so much more about the two Idiots being dorks and how Polterpup see them than the puppy being the puppy but in the *⁠.⁠✧Castle✧.* Idk how i got here but I'm loving the ride so far.

By the way, how do you feel about "Martha Speaks" like shenanigans? Because i just remembered it and I'm doing Martha Speaks like shenanigans. Puppy's going to steal some poor Toad's lunch.

awawawawa CUTE i love thiiiiiiiiis *u*

(there's something incredibly funny to me about dimentio saying "i just can't" omfg)

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carronpatrick · 10 months ago

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I had 4 hours of sleep in the past 3 days... And now that Trooper is gone, I just. I'm so scared to even try to sleep.

I haven't slept alone since I was like, 12. Which, I haven't slept since Trooper died 14 hours ago despite being so utterly destroyed I can barely keep my mind working... But either a dog or boyfriend or friend sleepovers or on my parent's floor... I don't know how to sleep alone without night terrors and fitful dozing of 15 minutes here, 10 there.

And I don't even give a flying fuck if whoever reads this thinks I'm being dramatic. I'm not. I had this puppy since he was 7 weeks old, being sold as a 'defect' because he had a curly-q tail, and we were together through an extremely abusive relationship, a car accident, someone stalking and threatening to kill me, my shitty ass family and exfriends dramas, the death of my dad and Jake and our 2 eldest dogs, 5 different diseases between us two, my mom's brain surgery, and every time my depression got almost unbearable where I literally begged God to let me die... I kept going purely because he needed me.

He slept in my arms from night one. There were 3 nights in his 9 year life where I wasn't home and that was to take care of my mother in Nashville and my dad watched him and sent me hourly pupdates. I didn't sleep until I almost passed out whole driving us home and even then I was in my mom's room.

I feel absolutely empty and hollowed and dead. Just still have the horrific pain which is how I know I'm still alive. I manage to stop sobbing and having a panic attack where I can't breathe and then I just... Look around and I see him everywhere. His water bowl by the bed, his babies on it, his hair clippers in the bathroom, his medicine downstairs, his numerous beds and toys and his treats and his little hoodie and his damn fur from when I trimmed him literally right before his became comatose on our bed... I have his collar on me constantly, which I bought before I even knew he was the best boy for me...

I am just so utterly alone. Everyone I love leaves or dies or lives hundreds of miles away and I genuinely don't know what I did in a past life to either piss off the universe or for God to think I can just handle all of these struggles... But I'm so sorry for whatever I did, I am. I need just.... One bit of good, of sunshine in this fucking hurricane.

I had to set up 2 night lights just so I can try to maybe sleep if I can finally pass out from deprivation and exhaustion from crying almost the entire past 14 hours. My skin is raw, my eyes are swollen and red, my nose and sinuses are stopped up to where I popped my left ear when swallowing mid-episode, I got maybe 6 bites of food in because I am so so sick to my stomach, I have a fever and chills, I have marks where I dug nails into my arms and legs and a bruise on my forehead and chest where I pounded repeatedly in a feeble attempt to stay sane and alive and grounded and I still can't fucking sleep.

I lay on my left and I expect to see him there, whining to go under the covers and cuddle with me... Lay on my right and expect to feel him curl into my back and scooch me to the side more and more... Lay on my back and expect to feel him at my head, curled around it like he did since he was a baby.

I doubt anyone is still reading and I'm just fucking sobbing writing it but. It's 330a and it's not like I can fucking sleep. I want my baby, I want my daddy, I want my honey... I want to dissociate or just snap and not feel a fucking thing thing until I can successfully shove all of this pain and sadness and misery into my compartmentalizing brain boxes and not take bits out until I can handle them.

Hopefully my medicines kick my ass and I just.... Sleep with zero dreams or terrors for the next day or week or, idk. I can't even talk about what exactly happened to him because it was too similar to my dad's death and I genuinely am traumatized because I was just finally easing my ptsd from dad and now have it from my baby boy, my son, my soul... I probably am making zero sense.

Hug your loved ones, anyone actually reading this... Hug them and tell them you love them every chance you get. Say it over and over - it doesn't cheapen it. Not if you mean it. Whether your loved one is a fur baby or a human, related or a friend or whatever... fucking love them and let them know it every second you can because anyone can get taken from you in a moment. And you'll be left cursing every millisecond of wasted time.

#I love you forever my sweet boy #You were the best boy anyone could ever have #I am so sorry if I wasn't good enough of a mommy I am so sorry I couldn't keep you safe and healthy #I miss you so fucking much

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atxxzist · 2 years ago

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broken | c.s (06)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 8.6k

warning: suggestive, idk what else but do lmk if i missed sum!

"so, want to play a few frames?" jongho asks.

though you considered the idea, you still weren't one-hundred percent sure about this 'double date', having told yuna you still needed some time, but she managed to drag you to the local bowling alley, squeezing you into the tightest dress she owns.

it feels like you're being suffocated because not is it only incredibly tight, but also a size too small.

"we could, but, i've never played before."

"oh, thank goodness," he says in relief, "me neither. but you know, protocols and whatnot."

a nervous smile emerges from him and you giggle in response, attention quickly batting to yuna and minhyuk by one of the lanes all flirty smiles and heart eyes, trying to act like they're interested in the game but you know it's the last thing on their mind.

when you first saw minhyuk, his sharp eyes and prominent features were the first thing you noticed.

he's handsome, in an overly intimidating way that probably has fathers pointing fingers and telling their daughters this is the kind of guy they need to stray far from.

which is why you expected his friend to be equally as alarming, only for the softest looking boy you've ever seen to pop out from behind him in parted black hair and puppy-like visual.

he's also an entire grade younger than you.

"you have a boyfriend, or?" his sudden question catching you offguard, unable to help the laughter that slips off.

"i don't," you reply casually. it might be because he's younger that allows for you to relax a little and not feel so tense around someone new and unfamiliar.

"ah, okay. just trying to minimize the risks of possibly getting a black eye, if i, by any chance, happen to hit on you."

another laughter pours at the silly comment.

"if i had a boyfriend, i wouldn't be here."

"oh, true. in that case, i hope you're ready to hear all the bad pick-up lines i've been waiting to use."

you roll your eyes, trying the very best to reframe from breaking out into an amused smile at the boy's attempt. the stark contrast to the one you're used to, because it's so innocent and it doesn't make you feel a little sick afterward.

his silly antics continues to entertain you, a giggle finally leaving along with a big smile plastered on your lips, you wouldn't even think of the possibility of someone watching a little too closely.

but san having arrived long enough to catch the exchange and occupying a booth far in the back, leans into the ear of the girl he came with, spewing a combination of words that brings out a smirk in her before really excusing himself.

"ok, you tell me which one sounds lamer--" jongho is rambling on when a figure comes into his peripheral vision, pausing midway to glare out of curiosity, one eyebrow raising at the person standing before him.

"san? you asshole, is that you?"

your breathing cuts short, head turning around so fast at the name that makes your heartbeat multiply. because it couldn't possibly be your san, right?

but lo and behold, there he is in all flesh and bones--it's those lips you kissed a couple days ago, and he's perfect just as you remember, going on to take a seat beside jongho while nudging him playfully to make space.

"i knew it was this fucker as soon as i stepped foot into the place," san says, a smile too warm on his lips.

jongho snickers and scoots over a little.

"what gave it away? my incredibly handsome look?"

san returns a snicker but with more edge. "the violence i suddenly felt at seeing your annoying face."

"real funny, choi number one. considering you came all the way over here, i'd say you even missed me a little."

"wrong. i came here for y/n."

the way your smile drops from their small banter when san immediately looks your direction is not even funny.

you want to comment on what a small world it is, that your blind date happens to know san, but the only thing that comes out is you in a stuttering mess and muttering out such a rhetorical question.

"y-you guys know each other?" stupid. of course they do.

san looks like he's going to say something but the younger boy beats him to it.

"he attended the same high school."

"right," san adds, "and jongho here, had a thing for playing hero and making my life all more difficult."

jongho chuckles it off and leans back, crossing his arms.

"i was on the school committee. i mean, i still am," he states almost too proudly, "and i was the one who busted this asshole for vaping on school ground."

san quirks his lips to the side with a shrug.

"student life was stressful," is all he says.

"yeah yeah. and somehow i became choi number two just because he's older."

"also because you're a little bitch that got me put on community service my last year of high school. an enemy situation throughout."

jongho stands back up to straighten his posture.

"i object. more like a little enemies turned friends, no? i think we got along fine during the last few weeks of school."

"that's only because i was tolerating your ass and school was ending."

a scoff accompanies jongho as he turns to you.

"somewhere in that cold heart of his, i know he has a soft spot for me." he smiles and you can't help but giggle, missing the way san quickly scans the amount of skin you're showing, along with the kind of dress he thinks you should wear more often.

"so, from what i'm hearing, we're all acquaintances here?" jongho continues.

san has to pry his eyes away while yours shoot to him when he hums out a low note in response.

"well, maybe you and y/n are. but i'm sure i mean more to her than that."

he delivers you a look, something so playful but with a hidden mystery to them that is all more attractive because of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

you don't know what all of it means but he just might be trying to get the upper hand against the younger boy who's even more clueless than you are.

"definitely not her boyfriend, at least. she told me she doesn't have one."

a light pink blush crawls onto your cheeks, growing shy from something that is as a matter of factly, true; having only made it known not even that long ago to said boy.

san chuckles at the sight, the smirk that was there before turning into an amused smile that's just a little addicted to the flush on your face.

"oh, did she now?" he mumbles; an edge to his voice the same time his lips quirk to the side so handsomely.

but jongho doesn't miss a single thing. not the look in san's eyes--a familiar one he's seen far too many times, and definitely not the lovesick symptom on your cheeks.

"you sly mother fucker," he hisses, shaking his head.

"you see, y/n. this is the kind of guy you stay away from."

san laughs, dimissing the boy's remark and playing it off as something lighthearted though it was said with just the smallest kind of cautious undertone like a warning.

"while guys like minhyuk, they might look like they got some shady shit going on, but let me tell you, that guy donates to the animal shelters a few times a year."

you swipe another glance at your roommate and her date from the comment, a smile so wide on minhyuk's face when yuna scores a strike.

"pfft," san blows with a faint eye roll, you turning back to stare at the two in front. "and what kind of guy would you be?" sarcasm in his delivery.

jongho sneers, a confident smile on his expression.

"exactly the kind y/n over here would love to get to know."

san laughs loud and amused, the sound so harmonious to your ear, you wouldn't mind hearing it every single day if given the chance.

your stomach still flutters a little at jongho's words, the silliness that was present before seemingly fading out replaced by a more stern tone that overtakes him.

"i'm sure y/n doesn't date little kids," san snarks, a smirk on him from beating down the younger boy.

"only a couple more months and i'll be of legal age, i'm sure she doesn't mind the wait."

the snicker that escapes you can't be helped, flattered by his attempts but still unable to take him seriously just because he's younger and might just be doing it to piss san off.

"and when is that, if you don't mind me asking," you bring up, genuinely wanting to know and not just because you'll wait for him.

"october the 12th!"

"ah," you softly mumble. "i'll be sure to write it down."

jongho looks to be in awe, haven't really thought that you would take it so literally.

"really?"

you nod, a thin smile drawing on your lips.

"in that case, i should ask for yours, too. when is your birthday, y/n?"

san watches the exchange the entire time with intrigued ears and eyes, at first annoyed by the younger boy who always know how to ruffle a few feathers, but what takes his breath away is how relaxed you are when conversing with jongho.

a side of you he's only seen when you're with your friends; something more lively and carefree, a complete contrast to how tense you always are around him.

but when jongho asks that question, it's the sinking realization that he doesn't know it, too. not just your birthday, but also anything else about you besides your body.

he doesn't remember a single time he's asked you any questions if it wasn't for his own personal benefits.

so why, why the fuck is he suddenly having this crisis and mulling over not knowing enough about you just because you're nosy and want to know more about him. especially when it's something so small and stupid like birthdays.

even when you tell jongho with such a shy smile on your face, uttering the month and day, he knows it will fly over his head later. he's never been good at remembering these kind of things anyways.

"i am going to be sure to remember it!" jongho states with determination, san being unfazed and knowing for sure the boy will because if there's one thing to know about him, it's that he has an annoyingly good memory.

"but say, y/n, you're having a birthday party, would you rather it be at the park or at your grandparents' house?"

"now, why the fuck would you do it at your grandparents' house?" san finally speaks up, his comment earning a low chuckle from you.

jongho groans in agreement. "that's what i told my mom!"

"i guess i'm with the both of you," you say softly, "though i probably don't have the best judgment. i-i don't really celebrate birthdays."

jongho's eyes stills as they keep open, the atmosphere dropping silent until he subtly starts talking again, "oh? how come?"

you never even knew birthdays were deemed such a special occasion; it being celebrated with friends and families all around, happy for that one day that you grow a year older.

the only birthdays you knew of wasn't anything special at all.

it wasn't until mingi invited you to a party of his that freshman year of high school that you learned birthdays aren't supposed to be spent in the small space of your tiny room alone, or trying to guess which parent you'll end up being shipped to next year.

"just something my family never did much, i guess," you simplify, and jongho nods along with an understanding hum.

"they're really not all that," san chips in, both yours and jongho's heads snapping his direction. "waste of money and time."

jongho takes offense, his expression twisting in response.

"okay there, edgelord. someone obviously never got invited to birthday parties as a kid."

"like hell i'd go," san snarks.

jongho rolls his eyes and moves his focus back to you.

"anyways. i will be taking the college entrance exam later this year, and if i don't get into yonsei, you just might see me around after i become of age," he announces somewhat jokingly but with the smallest chance that he means it.

san's husky and unbelievable laughter bursts from beside him, wanting to roll his eyes all the way to the back of his head, knowing the younger boy is playing it up.

"isn't it past your curfew," he remarks, totally out of topic but just eager to take a jab at the innapropriateness of it all considering jongho's age.

jongho furrows his eyebrows and actually checks his phone, an annoyed look on him once he registers the blow.

"you liar. it's only nine."

san scoffs, a little satisfied smirk at the corner of his lips.

"my curfew is at ten, i will tell you!"

the boys continues to make small, harmless insults to one up one another while you watch on the side, officially becoming a third wheel but the sight is too endearing for a subtle smile to not crack.

eventually, you have to use the restroom; sparing one last glance at yuna before excusing yourself to ask one of the workers.

this one is a little bigger; a few stalls at least and has two sinks. but while washing your hands, all you're able to think about is san back there and how it was the most you've gotten to know about him without having to ask.

maybe it's the magic of jongho and his more childish, laidback persona that allowed for not just you, but san as well, to show a more playful side of him. nothing like the man you've become accustomed to who's a little more calculating in his nature.

having watched as he fooled with the younger boy, wrestling and tickling him with a certain competitiveness that brings out a cute giggle that makes him look so approachable, exactly the kind of guy you think your aunt and uncle would approve of.

from a mere glance, no one would be able to tell this is the guy currently breaking your heart; the one having planted so many doubts in your head, he doesn't even bother to call or text anymore after having made clear what this is between you and him.

because unless you seek him out first, you won't hear from him. and it's been three days since the last time you were at his place, breathing underneath him and feeling so much pleasure, only to regret it later, swearing on your life this is the worst feeling ever and you're not sure if you can do it again.

you just didn't think, especially during a time where you're supposed to be forgetting about him--your face full of makeup products you usually wouldn't wear and a dress too tight hugging your body, that he'd show up so handsome and charming; all kinds of reminder why you returned the two times before and why it won't be the last.

about ready to go back, you're only a few inches out the door when a pair of hand latches onto your shoulders, pushing you back in against the counter, your eyes looking up into the one person capable of cornering you like this.

"hey," san utters, a coy smile on his lips as his hands releases from your shoulders and settles on the counter, trapping you inbetween.

you tense up a little, shifting in your spot and managing to reply through your trembling voice.

"h-hey."

he quirks an eyebrow before a smaller laughter bubbles out, one hand going to move the strands covering your eyes the way he always does.

"what's the matter? i haven't seen you in three days." his chest relaxes a little and his shoulders drop, inching even closer to you.

it's like once he really got that out of the way, everything starts leaking to the surface as well. everything about who this man really is and how he's nothing alike to the sweet, considerate boy you bumped into back at the party who helped you.

it's an awful discovery.

but what's worse is whenever you look at him, beyond his exterior and closed-off nature, you think there's a person underneath that you would love to know.

someone who has a story of his own; a story you would love to listen to if given the chance.

but that's always been your downfall. because when you love, you love hard. and maybe you didn't completely love junseo, but when someone is yours and you're theirs, you give them your entire heart.

and someone like san, someone so unattainable with his coy eyes and dimply smiles that always turn you a few shade redder, you think it would be nice if he was yours and you were his... because you would undoubtly love him wholeheartedly.

"i was busy," you tell him, swallowing down the pit that is both nervous but excited at whatever's about to come.

"that's fine," he dismisses it along with a low buzz under his breath, eyes quick to drool over the amount of exposed skin he's been dying to touch all night.

he's never seen you in this kind of outfit before. you were usually covered in three layers of clothing that was always annoying to take off.

"how did you know it was me?" you ask, playing dumb to the sight of his bottom lip in between his teeth.

he has to rip his attention away to meet your stoic eyes at the question, murmuring, "huh?"

"you told jongho you came over because of me, or was that--" a lie, too?

"--no, no, beautiful." he shakes his head, both hands caressing over your cheeks. "of course i was telling the truth. i knew from the hair and from the mole on your right shoulder."

san might not know a lot of things about you. not even the basics of your favorite movie or your dream, and he's not even sure if he remembers your birthday although you just told them not even that long ago, but he knows your body and all the ins and outs of it.

how your lips taste like, how pretty your boobs are, and how exactly to get you to cum. he knows all the faces you make during sex, and what to say and how to say it just so he can see that color on your cheeks that he likes a little too much.

and he definitely could spot that soft, silky texture of hair that had a big likelihood of it being yours.

he was only maybe seventy-percent confident at first, but the closer he got to the table, catching that mole on your shoulder he's gotten used to seeing, he knew it was you for sure.

"oh..." you say defeatedly, unable to wrap your head around the fact that san can actually recall something about you.

"what's wrong? you're not actually thinking about waiting for jongho and disappointed that i showed?"

your lips forms a pout, shaking your head.

"no. it's not that."

he chuckles, always having enjoyed backing you into a corner as if that's ever been hard to do.

"good. because he already left. his mommy called."

"oh..."

"yeah," he repeats, a tone so satisfied about the fact he's the only person for you at the moment. no chances of anyone else stealing your attention away; not even a pestering high schooler who lives to annoy him but also has the possibility of developing the smallest crush on you.

one of his hands suddenly snakes to your hip, settling on it with a light squeeze that makes you jolt up; the closer he leans in, the more your back presses against the edge of the counter.

"you look so fucking hot like this," he hisses, eyes once again unashamedly checking you out.

"it's yuna's dress."

"well, you should wear yuna's dresses more often."

his hand at your hip fumbles with the material, bottom lip caught in between his teeth again when it comes over just how perfect it fits over your figure.

silence eats up the air until he looks up and catches your gaze in his, staring at him like you're just waiting to be wrecked the same way he's always done it. a smirk crawls onto him and with one lift of your chin, you're both kissing and making out like it'll be the last time.

your arms are thrown around his neck immediately, and he's come to love the fact that you're starting to strip away that shy, hesitated act the more these sessions happen.

his hands that were on your hips are now all over your body as he nearly backs your head into the mirror, barely able to plant a kiss on your jawline when the sound of distant footsteps outside pries him away, staring into your horrified eyes at the thought of being caught in this position.

he shushes you, index finger to his lips and drags you away to the nearest stall, his back against the door and you breathing hard on his chest.

a pair of female voices echoes through the room, a conversation you don't really catch because your waist is wrapped around by one of san's arms while his other one travels down the bare of your skin, landing on your ass and squeezing it with a sadistic smirk on his lips.

you would've yelped if not for the current situation, in turn settling for a soft push to his chest that brings out that smile you so much despise because you hate how adorable it is and how dangerous it is on a man like san.

all you hear is the sink running and a few pops like something opening, maybe to reapply their makeups but is it drowned out by san's lips on yours and you at first unsure about making out in a restroom stall, but soon enough, you're gripping at his shirt and forgetting about all consequences.

you don't even realize the two are gone until san pulls away and the quietness of it all confirms it's only you and him again.

"let's take it back to the dorm?"

and you would've impulsively said yes, if not for your conscious serving as a reminder of the existence of your roommate who you came with.

"i want to, but, i came with yuna..."

"i'm sure she'll understand."

you used jongho as an excuse; your partner having gone home and all leaving there nothing to do. yuna didn't seem to mind, head occupied and infatuated with her date.

as soon as you're both off the elevator, his lips is on yours and your hands are running through his black hair, grateful for the late hours that has less students running around the building.

because it would truly be shameful if someone is to catch you two in this state, so high drunk off of lust, the key in your hold struggling to fit from your shaken hand.

but once you get it to open, you're both in immediately and the door behind is slammed shut, your back already touching the sheet of your bed and he's hovering on top once again diving down to kiss you.

his hand is fast to make an appearance under the skirt of your dress, kneading the soft skin of your thighs and traveling to the top of your underwear. you made sure to wear one alike to safety shorts.

while he works your undergarment, you pull at his shirt that rides up his toned abs, but you only make it about halfway before a sound in the pocket of his pants go off.

he ignores it the first time, but then comes the second.

a groan loosely escapes the tip of his tongue, having to break the kiss to stand on his knees, one hand rummaging his pockets.

you sit up with elbows planting the mattress and watch as his once annoyed expression dissipates at whatever is on the screen, his eyes even swelling a bit.

clearing his throat and shoving it back where he got it from, you can sense the change of demeanor, his body language giving away that he now wants to be out of here.

climbing off your bed as you stare with a disappointed sadness in your eyes, he finally speaks the dreaded words.

"hey, beautiful, i uhm... i gotta go." he awkwardly fidgets in his spot when telling you that, looking so out of place.

"oh..." you voice lowly, sitting up and scooting until your legs are hanging off the side of the bed, not bothering to hide the disappointment.

he attempts to put on a smile; try to make all of this hurt a little less, walking forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"i'll call you."

and when he leaves, you don't feel any better or any worse. the feeling is always the same; a deep hollow pain in your chest that makes you feel like an empty shell of a person.

why do you keep subjecting yourself to this kind of treatment? a part of you aware to the great possibility that the only reason he asked to come to your place was for this exact reason.

saying he has to go or that something came up is easier to lie about than straight kicking you out. and someone like san always know how to play his cards so he can lessen the blow.

so perhaps it's his adorable smile; the way your heart always flutter at the sight of him, and whenever he talks, you want to listen to him forever.

that stupid ounce of hope you so foolishly hang onto, wishing one day he'll come around because you're even more stupid to have faith in him.

facts about choi san.

1. birthday: july 10th 2. favorite color: purple 3. major cat lover 4. deathly afraid of bugs 5. was on community service senior year of high school

when san called earlier, asking if you can come to his place some time in the late morning, you know it's a bad idea.

you have already set a time and place to meet with yeosang at noon because the second exam is approaching fast, and shortly after, you have to leave for work, your schedule having been moved up the one weekday you don't have any class because your supervisor wants you to experience an actual classroom setting instead of the after school kids you've been watching.

the job proved to be a lot more than just being a teacher's aide, granted you told them you couldn't really work mornings because of being a college student and all.

but you haven't seen him since that night, and his promise of calling having came true filling you with that temporary feeling of joy and excitement, convincing yourself it doesn't hurt to see him for a bit as you rush over to his place.

but when you arrive at the scene, the new sight of his door left slightly opened along with what sounds like feet shuffling around tells you you're not going to get to see san today.

"no, because you're literally always fucking like this!"

you flinch at the sudden high volume of a voice you recognize as it fills san's apartment.

"you bring your shit into my house and i'm always the one who has to clean it up."

and though you've only met him a few times, you know it belongs to wooyoung.

"well, how was i supposed to know that she's friends with yunho and mingi and that you would end up liking them so much?"

the sink in your chest is heavy and the beating of your heart is loud; it's an awful revelation that the topic of conversation is... you.

"you don't. no matter who she's friends with or related to, you don't look at someone and think they're the next pretty little thing you're going to ruin."

you listen in closely, a silence that gauges the air making your breath catch inside your throat at the suspense.

you know it's wrong, but turning back doesn't seem to be much of an option especially when it's about you. it's only a given you'd be nosy.

following the silence is a heaved sigh before there's another round of feet walking in place.

"i don't know what you want me to do? if she didn't want it as well, i wouldn't be doing it."

it's san's voice, shortly followed by a sarcastic, dry laughter from wooyoung.

"that's what you always say, choi. that it's their fault; they knew what they were getting into, when you know damn well what you're fucking doing."

he pauses to catch his breath, not done just yet.

"so either get your shit sorted or stop messing with the girl because the last thing i want is a room full of death stares and resentment because my friend is a grade a asshole. i did this shit for you in high school but i'm starting to get real tired of it."

you don't get the chance to process the whirls of emotion attacking all at once, the direction of the footsteps sounding like they're headed for the door and you just assume the worst--that it's wooyoung leaving, scuttling away before you can be seen.

when you return to the dorm, the first thing you do is text san with an excuse that something came up. you wouldn't tell him you overheard a conversation that makes you sick to the stomach, so many conflicted thoughts running loose.

surely wooyoung would have suspected something (it's not like you guys were that good at hiding it), but you're also not close to him like that, which leads you to believe the outburst had more to do with yunho and mingi than you.

"well, how was i supposed to know that she's friends with yunho and mingi and that you would end up liking them so much?"

and you're not sure what's worse; having one of your friends tattletale to wooyoung to get san off your back, or that one (if not both) of them knew this whole time.

all those excuses and attempts at being discreet probably looked pathetic to whoever knew it was just so you can fall into the arms of a boy who doesn't care for you in the slightest; who lies to your face and messes with your head.

"i don't know what you want me to do? if she didn't want it as well, i wouldn't be doing it."

you're still not in a good headspace by the time you have to meet yeosang, which is literally just an hour after you were supposed to be seeing san.

he's in the far back of the cafe, eyes and nose stuck to a textbook and looking like he's absolutely going to ace this upcoming test.

you on the other hand, is absolutely pissed off your mind the more you keep lingering on it, coupled with the fact that there wasn't even enough time to actually get over it beforehand.

but why couldn't they just talk it out with you first? why did it have to jump straight into telling wooyoung about your business?

and also why the fuck are you not more upset at san? you should be. you need to be. it's evident he planned it all from the start and never really had any good intentions with you.

it's funny how you found all of this out while at his doorstep; maybe the only good thing to have came from it is you didn't end up in his bed (today at least).

but you suppose san being a walking red flag you should stay away from is the equivalent of beating a dead horse at this rate.

the tension is written all over your face when you take a seat across from yeosang, him looking up to quirk an eyebrow.

"hey?"

"hey."

"you sure you don't want to come over here?"

you briefly recall how anal he was about it last time when you sat across, so without further protests, you stand up to go plop down next to him, an irritated sigh departing without much thoughts but it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"well... okay," he mutters under his breath, wondering who or what managed to tick you off knowing it's not him this time. he's only said a few words so far.

quick to dismiss it because of the limited time, he pulls the neglected laptop into his view, navigating to the school site.

"he made a study guide, we can go over that."

and he really is trying; this being the second time, even gave you somewhat of a proper greeting without any snarks or additional comments, but what bothers him more than your already less than stellar arrival, is your lack of participation.

eyes and ears not even following along and head entirely elsewhere.

mind you, he had to push his schedule back just to come here.

"something wrong? if there's anything bothering you or you have somewhere to be, you can tell me."

"it's nothing."

"sure looks like something because i doubt you heard a single thing."

you knit your brows together, arms crossing over one another as you glare at him.

"blade server: type of server that exists in the form of a single circuit board," you repeat the last term he was going over, even slightly imitating the way he said it.

he chuckles wryly.

"well, you heard one of them at least," he says; some kind of satisfaction that graces the corner of his lips with a faint smirk.

you roll your eyes, moving your attention to one of the paintings hanging on the wall, trying to reframe from bursting because you're still not over what you just heard not even that long ago.

"isn't it tiring?"

your head snaps back to him, confusion overtaking your expression.

"what is?"

"this shy, reserved act of yours whenever you're with others. with your friends, with that guy, san. do they know you're this overbearing in actuality?"

"excuse me?" your voice high in disbelief.

he cocks his head a little.

"or perhaps, that's what it is. you only act like that around guys like san, but someone like me, you're not trying to impress so you don't give jackshit about how you come off."

red on your face, red in your veins, and red under your breath.

"and you don't have an act of your own?" you fire back, somehow managing to find the girl in you who has a voice and definitely some guts, but she who goes missing when it comes to telling san to fuck off.

"pretending to be this nice guy around yunho and mingi, like you're doing a favor by helping their friend when all you do is insult me behind their back."

you stand up furiously, grabbing at your things and sparing him one last glance (that you hope will intimidate him).

"you won't ever have to worry about wasting your time on someone like me ever again."

you don't need mingi or yunho (or both) shielding you like you're an infant still in a cradle, and you definitely do not need kang yeosang blowing up on you when you're just starting to realize how much you hate this fucking computer class and all this technical junk; when everything's already going to shit.

but your whole life has been a load of shit one after another so you suppose it's not entirely out of place.

which is why you ultimately decided that if it's going to turn to shit, it should all just be on the table at this point.

when you show at mingi's door just a few minutes right after you get off work, you know wooyoung is not there. he usually never is. he's always either at his own parties or at one of the five other properties under his parents name.

between the two options, you're more willing to bet it's the one person who actually shares a living space with wooyoung, squeezing yourself in and slamming the door behind before mingi could even get out a simple 'hey'.

he's stunned by the sudden cornering, as expected.

"woah there, missy," mingi coos, that lighthearted tone in his voice you recognize whenever he jokes around--completely disregarding the more serious look on your face.

"did you... by any chance, said something to wooyoung?"

you try to keep vague, for all you know, you just might be overstepping the boundaries and giving your friends too little credits.

wooyoung could've done it even without the push from one of them, but it's best to confirm before digging your own grave.

mingi pulls his brows into confusion.

"like?"

you clear your throat, swallowing down a knot, loathing how much harder he's making this, or if he's just really good at burying his own dirts. it's not exactly out of character for him.

"like--"

the abrupt knock at the door from behind cuts you short, your breath fuming before turning around to open it; the thinning patience not allowing you to consider even for a second who it might be, a small jump in your body when you see it's the other suspect. how convenient.

yunho doesn't say anything and neither does you or mingi. he awkwardly clears the block in his throat and walks himself in through the small space until he's standing tall in front of you.

after you close the door, it's the longest silence you've ever endured in the presence of the two, all your eyes bouncing from one to another before yunho finally speaks.

"did i miss an invitation?"

mingi chuckles, seemingly already relaxed.

"you're not the only one. miss y/n just busted into my room to interrogate me."

you shoot lasers at him and mutters something inaudible under your breath. it could be yunho, but he's usually the wiser of the two and mingi hasn't exactly done anything that makes him less likely--

"it was me," yunho deadpan, both you and mingi shooting his direction so fast.

mingi having no idea what's going on, switches his gaze between the expressionless boy next to him and the enraged look on you.

"why?" you say, so short and simple but the tone is everything but that.

"because i can't bear to watch you keep doing this to yourself. my intuition was right, and--"

"and you couldn't just talk to me?"

"wait, is this about san?" mingi ask, his voice such a contrast to the bubbling tension.

"and if i talked to you, would you have even listened?"

"well, i wouldn't know because you didn't even talk to me. you just went straight into airing my business to his friend."

"it's definitely about san," mingi mutters to himself, his presence completely ignored.

"i just thought that maybe san might listen to wooyoung since they're friends. and that if he stays away, you'll reframe from seeking him out."

it's quiet after that but the air is thick as you two stare into each other with something unpleasant brewing in your chest.

"h-how did you know?"

a low exhale departs yunho before he answers, "it was only a suspicion at first, but then i saw san walking back with you to the dorm that night. and well... you're kind of awful at being discreet."

an eyebrow raise at the confession, your face eventually twisting into distaste.

"you were spying on me?!"

"i wasn't spying on you. it was a coincidence, ask mingi. me and him were coming back from the library because of the campus job i was telling you about."

so... mingi saw it, too.

"yunho... i appreciate your concerns, but, i can make my own choices."

a dry, almost mocking laughter leaves him as he takes a seat at the edge of mingi's bed and stares you down.

yunho isn't an intimidating person; the boy always so nice and easy to talk to, any fights or arguments you guys ever had up till this point has never been this bad. but his gaze right now does make you feel a little small.

"and what is that going to be?" he throws his hands up. "returning to the same person who you know is emotionally unavailable? who won't ever love you the way you really want him to?"

"you talk as if you know him personally..."

you know you shouldn't have said it; defending someone who doesn't deserve it, and well aware there's not a single bone in yunho's body that is capable of harms, but you're so tired of the coddling.

so tired of being looked at as someone breakable.

"no. but i know people like him; guys like him. i know that they will never just magically come around, and most of all, i know that this isn't what you want. you're sticking to him in hope that he'll change his mind, no matter how much you want to deny it."

you've always hated how observant he is...

"then... why do you guys hang with wooyoung, and why is he friends with san? wooyoung is a good person, right? so shouldn't san be, too?"

you're deflecting; it's awful, but it does catches yunho offguard, and even mingi. yunho who was so sure before now mouth clasped tight, because yunho's an honest man, and as an honest man, he doesn't know either.

the couple of times he's met wooyoung, he's aways been pleasant to be around; welcoming of his presence with opened arms and always with a smile on his face to make sure yunho was never left out.

the question asked--more for wooyoung himself than yunho.

"i'm not sure if i can answer that, but, can you promise me at least? that you'll stay away? if not for me, do it for yourself."

you're quiet, shifting to look down at the floor and tracing the pattern when a groan falls from yunho.

"fine." he stands up, his towering height and cold eyes making you feel all sorts.

"call me whenever you actually consider our friendship these last four years instead of whatever you're having with a guy that you just met this semester."

"yunho..." mingi mumbles, disapproval in his tone.

yunho doesn't say anything else, only rushing for the door as he brushes past you before it is slammed shut.

"he didn't mean it." mingi glares at you.

"i know he didn't."

you limp to his bed, taking the seat where yunho was sitting before, still able to feel the warmth he had left behind.

mingi sighs, shaking his head and eventually sitting down with you.

"and i know you don't want to hear this again, but he's right."

as a friend, mingi cares for you. of course he does. but as the boy who found you under that oak tree when you were fourteen years old; as someone who knew you before yunho, before anyone else, he also understands the curiosity you hold for the world; for what else is out there.

you have been deprived of these things almost your entire life, he thinks it's ony natural. so he never tries to be too hard on you when he sees your eyes wander and your nose perked.

he's just always sitting back and watching; observing. yunho and him the perfect contrast to one another because though he may be loud and obnoxious, he tries to stir away from possibly upsetting you. whereas yunho can be a bit overprotective despite his quietness on a surface level.

"i know..." you say, "i just... wish he'd have a little bit more faith in me. i-i can handle it." even you're failing to convince yourself.

mingi breathes out a pitiful look in his eyes, taking your hands into his and locks gaze with you. he's about to get sentimental and you know it. his silly and laidback personality a perfect combination to his more vulnerable side he lets loose once in a while.

"remember the last time you fought with yunho?"

you wouldn't really call it a fight, it was barely an argument, maybe more of a disagreement but aside from this one, that was definitely the most heated you two ever got.

you nod, mumbling in a low volume, "yeah."

"and how angry you were at him?"

"yeah, because he was acting without thinking and i was worried about him."

it was a fight between yunho and minji, at first over something so small but eventually escalating into something bigger.

"i was afraid he was gonna do something he'd regret later."

yunho had spent most of his high school years crushing on minji, always so shy and unconfident, until he finally mustered up the courage to ask the girl out to which she said yes (obviously). and he was gonna throw it all away for something that he probably wouldn't even think about a week from then.

"exactly. because you were looking out for him, and he's just looking out for you, too."

your hands stiffen in mingi's grasp, a sullen look on your face. you also know that.

"look," he says, scooting closer. "i poke my nose in everything, and it's only because i live to annoy you, but in all honestly, i wouldn't ever intrude on your personal affairs. but some days, i still think about how he treated you back at the party."

he goes on, "i was happy at first, him being wooyoung's friend and all. he was also okay when we went out to dinner, but someone who genuinely likes you would not sideline you the way he did."

your mind briefly flashes back to the party, thinking about how hopeful and stupid you looked with that jacket on like a little lost puppy.

thinking about the smirk so fittingly as it rested on his lips when he flirted with your unknowing roommate, using her as leverage to achieve whatever end result he was getting at.

thinking about how you foolishly believed his lie at the time, but overtime seeing for yourself nothing is accidental or coincidental especially in the face of a man like san.

everything is done intentionally and with the purpose to gain; getting you a job and definitely messing with you at the party. he might've even lied on that date with jongho, too.

"and i never asked for anything from you before, but i'm just asking this one time, if you can... please listen to yunho and keep a distance from san."

mingi squeezes your hand, his stance desperate as he awaits your answer.

it takes longer this time around for you to say something, but when you finally do, mingi could've swear he heard it wrong when a quiet "fine" falls from your lips.

"r-really?" his eyes grow in incredulity.

you nod. "if you and yunho are this worried, then i'll stop seeing him."

his chest exhales in relief, the once uneasy expression on him dropping, wondering what prompted the sudden change of mind or if he's really just that good at giving overall sappy speeches.

"oh dear, you got me so scared."

you giggle at his comment, the first time today you're allowed to smile.

he releases the hold on you, backing up a little but gaze having never left, a slight tense in his body language that you know he's going to act on.

"okay, but, can i ask something? and bitch you better not lie to me. we tell each other everything, remember?"

you swallow the knot in your throat, afraid of what he's going to ask and with a feeling it's going to knock your breath away.

"right," you hesitantly answer.

and well... you hate to be correct.

"have you slept with him?"

you almost choked on your own saliva.

"mingi..." you hiss.

"you heard me, bitch. did you guys do the devil's tango?"

you roll your eyes, kicking at his leg lightly and exasperating out loud.

"oh my god, why the hell are you calling it that?"

"oh, whatever. you know what i mean. did. you. guys. fucked?" he crosses his arms.

he can be so sweet and understanding, and then at the same time, go and ask questions like this.

he squints his eyes.

"you know, silence is incriminating. hesitation is damaging, and something tells me you slept with him. not once. not twice."

a small surge of panic rushes in, grabbing at the pillow nearby and smacking him in the face with it.

he winces in exaggerated pain and you toss the pillow back, shooting daggers at him.

"i swear, if you rip that, you're paying for a new one."

"worth it to shut that big ass mouth of yours."

it's a couple seconds before he breaks out into laughter and you follow along with a simple giggle.

"okay but please... can you promise me you won't tell yunho?"

he shrugs, lips quirked to the side.

"what makes you think he doesn't suspect it as well? but sure, i guess. you should really talk to him, though. after this."

mingi plays it cool, a smile on his face and burying that feeling aside that he's just the littlest bit of sad your first time went to someone who doesn't love you.

granted, he's never really cared too much for such thing, always having joked around his parents will end up with no grandkids because he doesn't plan on adopting, either.

but he's always thought that if you were to have it, he'd want your first time to be special. with someone you love, and who loves you the same; your heart always so big and with so much to give.

not someone like san who lures you in with his handsome look and butterflies-alarming words, knowing he never planned to give anything in return except to add to the list of your miseries.

he can't help but feel it is his fault--for leaving you at the party and for ever introducing wooyoung.

but at least now, you will stay away and spare yourself an inevitable heartbreak... he hopes.

you approach the door of yunho's room with cautious steps, hesitation in your appearance because of the one person he shares the space with.

you knock lightly, proceeding to wait and it doesn't take long before it creaks open and yunho is standing before you.

he doesn't look surprised by it, if anything, he looks like he was expecting you to show up at one point. it's just so in character.

you take this chance to sneak a glance past his shoulders, seeing it's in the clear.

"may i come in?" you ask sweetly.

he nods, a hum under his breath and steps aside to let you in.

"i'm sorry," you say, turning to him as his back is to the door. "sorry for acting like a bitch earlier, i know you were just looking out for me. and... i talked to mingi, and i already promised him i-i'll stay away from san."

rather than a sudden change of mind, it was more the realization that you don't need whispered sweet lies or kisses from a boy who doesn't even like you; who always have made you feel so shitty about yourself.

your friends matter, and you're going to listen to them.

that the next time choi san calls or texts, no matter what emojis he uses or what words he will say to get you to come to his place, you're going to ignore him.

next // series m.list

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#the amount of times i write about someone's eyes #or them smiling #ateez angst #san x reader #choi san angst #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #san angst #fic: broken

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