#ty again for your kind words 🖤

[ugh-yoongi]

jewel, asking us to pick a favorite fic of yours is like asking us to pick a favorite child 🤨 but i am obsessed with 'because of you blue.' long live himbo stoner jk ❤️

dfgdgf hsjk is our collective child now <3 he has been raised by seokjin tumblr and that is why he turned out the way he did <3 we each get him one day a week and do the custody exchange at the dumpster <3

(in all seriousness tho thank you, i am very grateful :'))

— what is your favorite fic of mine?

[atsu-i]

I'm similar to you so I k ow my words won't make much of a difference but your blog is one of my faves and also k e of my safe places. Thank you for keeping it up and for still being here.

aww ;-;

[dollgxtz]

heyyy, i just read your fics and wanted to tell you that I LOVE how you write! Im excited for future works and definitely will check on your blog more often now. I also saw that you are willing to write things such as ddlg and stuff, and I wanted to request it with Sylus.🖤

The Best Cure

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: daddy!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, daddy kink, ddlg, pet names like kitten, sweetie, little one, little girl, daddy, fingering, teasing, some slight punishment, overstim if you squint, lots of fluff near the end, tw for mentions of vomit

AN: I was trying so hard to get this done in the midst of everything else going on in my life but I had it 80 percent done so I figured I might as well finish and publish it tonight LOL. Ty for requesting anon <3

It was hot. Way too hot. Sweat beads form on your brow and your insides churn with nausea. You shift in bed a bit, bedsheets clinging to your clammy skin as you do so. A large bowl sits on the bedside table, ready for any vomit that threatens to come up your throat. You hadn’t thrown up at all today, but you still wanted to be prepared for the possibility. Each passing moment and stomach churn made that fear become more and more like it was going to be reality.

The black and heavy wooden door to the room suddenly opens, light pouring in to the very dark room. Sylus peers in, eyeing your disheveled figure.

“You should’ve had Luke and Kieran turn the ac down while I was gone. Poor thing”. He walks in, completely closing the door behind him.

A pair of delicate hands gently lifts your torso, propping you up with a mountain of pillows and plushies piled against the headboard. Sylus sits on the bed beside you, his worry carving a deep divot between his brows. He reaches out to test your temperature with the back of his hand, the other placing a thermometer under your tongue for good measure. You grimace and whine when he moves his hand away, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t look at me like that, kitten” he chuckles, moving his hand back to caress your cheek with his thumb. His brows tilt in concern before giving you a soft smile. “Daddy will take care of you”

You feel your cheeks heat up with the sound of that nickname. It wasn’t the first time he had addressed himself as such, and yet it never seemed to make you any less flustered. You had called him that by complete accident one night while half asleep, and while he had been taken aback a bit, he leaned into it completely after some light teasing (of course). Besides, he had already had an inkling you were into that kind of thing, coupled with your childish interests and tendencies.

He didn’t mind at all though. It was absolutely adorable the way you changed when it was just the two of you. The way you melt in his arms, become clingy and desperate for his touch. You go from Linkon’s fierce hunter and protector to his giggly little girl. And he couldn’t get enough. Knowing that he was a safe space for you to be this way meant the world to him.

However, you were feeling worse for wear and didn’t exactly want to be so agreeable today. You glare up at him and swat his hand away from your face, a nagging feeling of displeasure and nausea stirring in your gut.

And like waves crashing against the shore, emotions well up within you, pricking at the back of your eyes and bubbling in your head—discontent, worry, pride—all battering against the vulnerable neediness that yearns for tender care. Your lips press tight in a vain attempt to keep them from wobbling, pushing away the impulse to relent and fall into that soft headspace.

“Go away. Aren’t you supposed to be bathing in the blood of your enemies or something?” you spat, attempting to turn away from him. Sylus says nothing as he sets down the thermometer, moving closer to hold you in a tight embrace. You struggle against him for a few short moments, only stopping when the wooziness in your gut and head take over. Your body relaxes in his arms finally and he chuckles again.

“Done with your little tantrum?” he coos, planting a few kisses on your forehead. “And for your information, my enemies can wait. I gotta make sure this sick little kitten feels better don’t I?”

You don’t respond, still in the midst of your internal battle with your head. Sylus definitely notices but doesn’t say anything, taking a look at the thermometer again. He gets up momentarily, heading to the bathroom and coming back with a cool wash cloth.

A cool washcloth wipes over your forehead to clear away the sweat, gentle fingers resting under your chin to keep you still. You start to shake your head in protest, stopping immediately when your vision swims and your stomach induces a sharp pain. You lean over, clutching yourself as you groan in agony. Sharp, angry. stabs erupt all over your insides and you wheeze a little. Tears prick your eyes and slide down your cheeks. Sylus touches your back and begins to rub you, causing you to immediatly sit back up and try to compose yourself.

“I-i don’t need you” you persist, still clutching your stomach. “It’s probably just something bad I ate at work, I’ll be fine”. Every fiber of your mind is trying to fight back against going into your fluffy headspace. A growing part of you wonders why you’re even resisting this hard. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just let go and let him take control?

Sylus watches your labored movements, listening to your halfhearted attempt to lie while still making small circles on your back. His face adorns a stern expression, clearly not believing a single word you’re saying.

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie” he smiles, his hand leaving the small of your back. “It’s okay to want me, though. I want to take care of you”. His voices drips in reassurance, his unwavering gaze shines with his love and acceptance—the genuine sincerity piercing your soul and vaulting you past your breaking point.

It’s near audible the way your remaining resolve crumbles, leaving you sniveling and grabbing onto his shirt with a fierce, unrelenting grip. He of course reciprocates immediately, lifting you into his lap with ease.

A sigh pushes past his lips, clearly relieved that you finally let go for him. He adjusts the both of you so you’re both further on the bed, his back against the headboard as you straddle his lap and hug him around the neck.

He hushes your sobs, wiping your tearstained face and running his fingers over your hair. Your head finds a resting place on his heart, the steady and rhythmic beat gently relaxing you even more in his hold. Incoherent apologies and words begin to spill from your mouth and into chest. Although he can’t quite understand you, he simply lets you, no irritation or anger to be found anywhere on his face.

“I’m not mad pretty girl, but you can be pretty stubborn when you want to be” he smirks, giving you a light squeeze for further reassurance. “You’re lucky you’re so cute”

You grunt in his chest, pouting slightly. You lift your head a bit, positioning your lips to his neck, slightly biting it in retaliation. While Sylus had no bodily reaction, he slightly raised his eyebrow at your feeble nibbling.

“Oh? Is this little kitten biting her owner?” he scoffs, sliding his hand under the back of your shirt a little. “Seems you’re feeling better after all hm?”

“Hmph. A little…I mostly just find you annoying” you hiss, biting into the skin of his neck a bit harder. Sylus responds by dragging his hand into the hem of your sweatpants, squeezing the roundness of one of your asscheeks. You squeal, jumping back to glare at him.

“Seems we’ve found the cure to your illness, little one” he grins, seemingly enjoying the flustered reaction you just gave him. “You can bite me all you want if you can handle the consequences”

Your mouth left his neck and you looked up at him, already feeling flustered by his words.

“Consequences?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. Feigning ignorance was just something you did to stall him.

“Of course. You have to teach kitties not to bite the hand that feeds them. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, smugness dripping from his voice. You roll your eyes, a wave of nausea overcoming you once again. You wince, leaving Sylus’s lap and laying next to him.

“Im too sick to do any of that anyways…” you whine, looking up at him from your new position. You reach both hands up to him indicating you want to be held. He obliges, repositioning himself to your side and taking you in his arms.

“Is it your stomach still? Want me to rub it?” he asks. You weakly nod, lifting up your shirt a bit so he can slide his hand over. He gently starts caressing the softness of your tummy, making you whimper a bit from the ticklish sensation.

“Too gentle Sy, a little harder…”

“Are you gonna start complaining next that I’m doing it too hard? Make up your mind now sweetie” he chuckles.

You grit your teeth in slight irritation but mostly embarrassment from his teasing. Still, the panging waves of nausea leave no energy for smart or quirky remarks.

“Harder please?” you whimper, half questioningly and half plead. He nods, beginning to rub your stomach with a more intense motion than before. You stifle a groan as his hand shifts back and forth across the skin of your tummy, almost immediately alleviating the pain. You weren’t sure if this was some kind of placebo, or if Sylus’s touch was really just that good. Closing your eyes, you unwittingly let out a few sighs and whimpers.

“Is this hurting you more sweetie? Or does it feel good?”

Sylus’s voice trails off, a knowing and smug expression appearing on his face. Your eyes shoot open, heat creeping across your cheeks and ears.

“Not like that!! It just feels nice…perv” you spat, but you don’t move his hand away. You hear him chuckle as you close your eyes again, once more lost in the sensation of his cold hands massaging the skin of your stomach. You feel yourself getting lost in the motions of his touch, and for once in that entire day, you felt like dozing off.

It wasn’t until you felt his hand slide a bit lower than anticipated that you peered your eyes open a little. But you didn’t flinch or glare at him. Your breath simply hitched, a warm feeling starting to ache in your core. Sylus eyed your expression, pausing momentarily to gauge your reaction.

“If you don’t want me to go lower just say so” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your ear. “But…it might help you feel a little better hm?”

Instinctively you push your lower half up against his hand, the adrenaline and excitement beginning to pool through your veins. Your nausea still lingering, but long forgotten at this point. Taking that as a very clear sign, Sylus crept the rest of his fingers down your sweats, methodically creeping them under your underwear, and finally to your aching heat.

You gasp at the sudden coldness at your clit, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed. As he slowly and methodically starts making circles around your clit, you can feel yourself getting practically out of breath. Letting out a small whine, you peer at Sylus with a pleading expression.

“Don’t-dont tease me, I don’t feel good…” you mewl, tears beginning to prick your eyes. You were telling the truth, feeling so worked up already that any teasing today was certainly going to send you over the edge.

Sylus chuckles, wasting no time to give you what you were wanting. He undoubtedly enjoyed seeing you in such a pathetic state, but how could he say no to the whiny little kitten mewling at his side right now? He places his index finger over your bud, earning a much louder moan from you. You buck your hips into his hand, trying to gain even more sensation.

“Mghm! Keep going…like that…” your voice shakes with desperation. Your hands clutch at the muscles of his arms, trying to keep yourself from shaking like a scared animal. It normally took much longer to get you to this point, but today you needed it so much more. You needed him. And he definitely knew by the way he was granting mercy so quickly.

“So needy for my touch aren’t we~?” Sylus coos, keeping up the unrelenting pace on your bud as promised. “Does my little girl want to cum?”

You nod fervently, breath hitching in your throat as an intoxicating wave of pleasure begins to crest within you. Sylus, ever attuned to the intricacies of your body, senses the impending climax and, much to your displeasure, deliberately slows his pace.

The urge to protest, to lash out in frustration, flares within you, but you're acutely aware of the futility of challenging him. Instead, you gaze up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, silently pleading for release, for heaven.

“Ah ah, you know better. Use your words kitten” his voice commanding but soft. His feathery tone of voice compels you to obey him, your mouth opening slightly ajar to try and tumble the words out, all the while he still circles your aching bud with painful, slow strokes.

“Please Sy, I wanna cum, please?”

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, how cute”

You don’t get the chance to retort before you feel a sudden intrusion slicking through the wetness in your hole. You gasp, nails embedding themselves in Sylus’s forearms as he unrelentingly begins to finger you with his index whilst his middle continues the pace on your clit. A soaring heat breaks in your core, and you’re practically on the edge of climax when you peer at his lower half, his cock practically bursting out of his own pants. You reach for it instinctively, but Sylus catches your wrist before you could unzip him.

“Daddy…I want you to feel good too” you whimper, voice strained as you try to delay your own release. You try to reach again but unsuccessfully. Sylus shakes his head, pinching your clit slightly. You jump, his swift punishment making you relent and bury your face against him.

“Good girl, see it’s better when you listen to me isn’t it?” he whispers. “Just lay there and cum on my fingers sweetie”

You moan against his chest in response, ecstasy flooding your body and core with one last stroke of your bud. You choke out his name, shaking and panting against his body as your own body obeys his words. Abdomen and thighs shuddering under his gaze as he takes in the sight of you coming undone for him. Even after you came down, his long and dexterous fingers kept pressing down against certain sweet spots, sending you into a new state of sensitivity.

“It hurts Sy…” you plead, attempting to move his wrist. He obliges, removing his wet fingers that are now coated in your desperation and release. He’s quick to move his fingers towards his mouth, and you shut your eyes out of embarrassment.

“Sylus, don’t taste it…I’m gross”

You hear him chuckle as he finishes the last drop off his finger, leaning closer to give you a deep but sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered, tasting yourself a bit on his lips. Still pretty gross to you, but exciting nonetheless.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he smirks, readjusting your underwear and pants back onto your body correctly. “You taste sweeter every single time”

You shove your face back into his body out of embarrassment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your expression. Your illness was long gone now, surpassed by your orgasm most likely. Smiling into Sylus’s warm body, fuzziness begins to cloud your brain. You hadn’t really slept at all last night, and only slept in increments through the day.

“Tired? Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up kitten” he says, a content smile creeping on his face, very much relieved that you felt well enough to sleep now.

Nestled in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the day began to dissolve. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sylus’s chest was a soothing lullaby, each breath a gentle nudge towards sleep. The soft hum of his whispered words filled the quiet space between you both, like a comforting melody that played just for you. Your eyelids grew heavy, fluttering closed as the familiar bourbon scent of Sylus’s cologne enveloped you. The world outside blurred into the background, until all that remained was the steady heartbeat beneath your ear, guiding you into a deep and peaceful slumber.

[kingsmoot]

hi! im not sure if you’ve spoken about this before but would be so interested to hear your thoughts on the dynamic between ramsay and the original reek? like the combined matters of reek already being a serial rapist and murderer before he even meets ramsay, the abject weirdness of an adult man being best friends with a child/preteen, and the fact that ramsay names his torture victim after reek despite no indication that he ever tortured the original reek? i always felt george was hinting at some kind of cycle of abuse thing with the whole “who corrupted who” line. anyway sorry this ask is so long but i love your analysis and would really like to hear what you think!

hello 🩷❤️🖤 firstly thank you for your kind words!! i have spoken about this before, but i'm happy to speak about it again, ty for your interest! i'm honestly a little surprised this is such an underdiscussed topic in general!! but not too surprised.

in short: yes. i completely agree with you. from my reading of the text it is obvious that reek was sexually abusing ramsay. i've made a few posts about it:

1. most plainly here

2. and i also touched on it here where i talked about ramsay's mama willingly and purposefully putting him in danger

I went through asearchoficeandfire and pulled every mention of reek i, the manservant that roose gifted to ramsay, so let's go through them all together

the rest is under the cut for discussion of child abuse, endangerment, neglect, and csa, as well as rape and necrophilia

there are three "reeks" in the text. reek, the manservant that roose bolton gave to ramsay and his mother. reek, who is ramsay in disguise in winterfell. and reek, who is the tortured remains of theon greyjoy. to keep things simpler and easier to follow i am only going to call these three people reek, ramsay, and theon, ignoring who might have been called "reek" at what time.

"Lord Bolton has never acknowledged the boy, so far as I know," Ser Rodrik said. "I confess, I do not know him." "Few do," [Lady Hornwood] replied. "He lived with his mother until two years past, when young Domeric died and left Bolton without an heir. That was when he brought his bastard to the Dreadfort. The boy is a sly creature by all accounts, and he has a servant who is almost as cruel as he is. Reek, they call the man. It's said he never bathes. They hunt together, the Bastard and this Reek, and not for deer. I've heard tales, things I can scarce believe, even of a Bolton. And now that my lord husband and my sweet son have gone to the gods, the Bastard looks at my lands hungrily." Bran wanted to give the lady a hundred men to defend her rights, but Ser Rodrik only said, "He may look, but should he do more I promise you there will be dire retribution. You will be safe enough, my lady . . . though perhaps in time, when your grief is passed, you may find it prudent to wed again."

acok, bran ii

this is the first we hear of reek and ramsay, and it's notable that they've only been over at the dreadfort + its surrounding lands for two years now. we learn later in adwd that reek and ramsay have been together since ramsay was a child, but they were living in weeping water with ramsay's mother

It was a few days after Alebelly's bath that Ser Rodrik returned to Winterfell with his prisoner, a fleshy young man with fat moist lips and long hair who smelled like a privy, even worse than Alebelly had. "Reek, he's called," Hayhead said when Bran asked who it was. "I never heard his true name. He served the Bastard of Bolton and helped him murder Lady Hornwood, they say." The Bastard himself was dead, Bran learned that evening over supper. Ser Rodrik's men had caught him on Hornwood land doing something horrible (Bran wasn't quite sure what, but it seemed to be something you did without your clothes) and shot him down with arrows as he tried to ride away. They came too late for poor Lady Hornwood, though. After their wedding, the Bastard had locked her in a tower and neglected to feed her. Bran had heard men saying that when Ser Rodrik had smashed down the door he found her with her mouth all bloody and her fingers chewed off.

acok, bran v

the above is referencing ramsay, of course, disguised as reek. here we have the account of how ramsay and reek were caught on lady hornwood's lands after they had kidnapped and raped her from the stark perspective (and filtered through bran's 7-year-old perspective as well) but a little later on we hear it straight from the bastard's mouth:

"Aye, but [Ser Rodrick] thought us friends. A common mistake. When the old fool gave me his hand, I took half his arm instead. Then I let him see my face." The man put both hands to his helm and lifted it off his head, holding it in the crook of his arm. "Reek," Theon said, disquieted. How did a serving man get such fine armor? The man laughed. "The wretch is dead." He stepped closer. "The girl's fault. If she had not run so far, his horse would not have lamed, and we might have been able to flee. I gave him mine when I saw the riders from the ridge. I was done with her by then, and he liked to take his turn while they were still warm. I had to pull him off her and shove my clothes into his hands—calfskin boots and velvet doublet, silver-chased swordbelt, even my sable cloak. Ride for the Dreadfort, I told him, bring all the help you can. Take my horse, he's swifter, and here, wear the ring my father gave me, so they'll know you came from me. He'd learned better than to question me. By the time they put that arrow through his back, I'd smeared myself with the girl's filth and dressed in his rags. They might have hanged me anyway, but it was the only chance I saw." He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. "And now, my sweet prince, there was a woman promised me, if I brought two hundred men. Well, I brought three times as many, and no green boys nor fieldhands neither, but my father's own garrison."

acok, theon vi

ok just a quick pause i LOVE ramsay's little monologue here it's SO CRAZY GOOD it's so good it's so

like telling theon to his face "aye, but he thought us friends. a common mistake." is CRAZY. it's so good!!!! after so many chapters of build up too the whole thing feels like being nailed down to a chair and put in thumb screw and every time there's a new bran or theon chapter they're tightened just a half-turn before this reveal where your thumbs are sliced clean off by a scimitar IT'S SO GOOD RRAUUUGHHH

sorry i got distracted. this li'l bit is interesting because it sets ramsay up as In Charge. he calls the shots. "[Reek]'d learned better than to question me," he says, and he sacrifices reek to the stark riders to save his own skin. the way ramsay tells this story sets reek up as disposable and submissive. a servant who is below ramsay's station, defers to him, gives obeisance, and gives his life for his master. (notable as well that this is not Lady Hornwood who they are raping the corpse of, but an anonymous northern girl, likely one of the smallfolk who live by and/or in the Hornwood keep)

ramsay's language here also makes it clear that this is habitual for him and reek. he likes to hunt girls, rape them, and kill them, and reek likes to fuck their corpses before they've cooled. romance. this was established somewhat back in bran ii when lady hornwood first introduced the pair, but we now have it straight from ramsay's mouth that this is their habitual game.

"I knew the first Reek. He stank, though not for want of washing. I have never known a cleaner creature, truth be told. He bathed thrice a day and wore flowers in his hair as if he were a maiden. Once, when my second wife was still alive, he was caught stealing scent from her bedchamber. I had him whipped for that, a dozen lashes. Even his blood smelled wrong. The next year he tried it again. This time he drank the perfume and almost died of it. It made no matter. The smell was something he was born with. A curse, the smallfolk said. The gods had made him stink so that men would know his soul was rotting. My old maester insisted it was a sign of sickness, yet the boy was otherwise as strong as a young bull. No one could stand to be near him, so he slept with the pigs … until the day that Ramsay's mother appeared at my gates to demand that I provide a servant for my bastard, who was growing up wild and unruly. I gave her Reek. It was meant to be amusing, but he and Ramsay became inseparable. I do wonder, though … was it Ramsay who corrupted Reek, or Reek Ramsay?" His lordship glanced at the new Reek with eyes as pale and strange as two white moons. "What was he whispering whilst he unchained you?"

adwd, reek iii

the above comes two books later, and now that we've gotten lady hornwood's perspective (and this is a perspective that comes from the general northern grapevine of people who live between winterfell and the dreadfort) and ramsay's perspective (which we will soon learn to doubt) we get roose's.

it's interesting too, i had always pictured reek as a grown adult man, but my friend @wormlips pointed out to me recently that roose does call him a "boy" in the above passage. i think i always pictured him as an older man partially since theon is transformed through his year of torture in an abandoned shipping container into an old man. i had just always made the logical leap that in addition to making theon smell terrible so that he is more similar to reek, purposefully torturing and starving him and turning him into a bent old man was also to emulate reek. to recreate him in a way. so i have always pictured him as being WAY older than ramsay, like rams is between seven and ten and reek is like... forty five. but wormie also pointed out that drinking perfume seems like a childish thing to do. i can see the sense in their reading of it! i have personally never pictured the two of them as being close in age, but rather ramsay as a child and reek as an old(er) man. i think the two incidents of reek stealing perfume might have happened when he was young but that he was an adult by the time ramsay's mother came to the dreadfort to ask for a serving man.

it's interesting also that roose implies with his question of who corrupted who that reek was not a serial rapist + murderer before he was given to ramsay. but idfk about that. the thing is that all of these people are unreliable narrators, so it's kind of a murky picture of a purposefully obscured past.

it doesn't make sense to me that the smallfolk would claim the gods cursed reek to "stink so that men would know his soul was rotting" if he wasn't already murdering and/or raping girls or defiling corpses. why would that be how they explained his smell if he was just a normal guy with a medical condition?

it's possible that roose only gave reek to ramsay and his mother because of his smell. because ramsay's mother wanted him to give them a servant to help her raise the boy so roose gave her one who smelled like an open grave being used as a latrine. but that doesn't seem like the kind of joke roose bolton would play. not to me! roose giving the troublesome mother of his rapebaby a man with a proven history of horrible violence? that seems like the kind of joke roose bolton would play. to me.

also reek and ramsay becoming "inseparable" reads as far less sinister if you picture them being the same age. i do not.

another point to reek being significantly older is that it wouldn't make sense for roose to send a child over to a woman who was asking for childcare support. even if he did, she'd send him back. he couldn't do any more work around the mill than ramsay could if they were both children, he would just be an extra mouth to feed. so even if he isn't quadrouple ramsay's age like i'm picturing him, he would definitely be older. like 16-7 at minimum i think.

to your point about cycles of violence, i would say that ramsay's entire existence as a character is about cycles of violence. the cycles are certainly cycling!!! but that's not exactly what i get from this particular snippet. i take roose's question about whether reek corrupted ramsay or ramsay reek in the same way i take his telling ramsay that his way has always been in favor of "a peaceful rule and a quiet people". he's full of shit!!!

my reading of it is that rams was obviously already a violent child. maybe he was killing animals, hurting his mother, hurting his fellow children. but he was a child. and reek was an adult man with a history of violence towards others. that violence isn't explicitly stated in the text but i think if the smallfolk were saying that his soul was rotting then it had to be pretty bad. i interpret this as reek already being a rapist and serial killer before he ever met ramsay (which is your reading too!).

"Has my bastard ever told you how I got him?" That [Theon] did know, to his relief. "Yes, my … m'lord. You met his mother whilst out riding and were smitten by her beauty." "Smitten?" Bolton laughed. "Did he use that word? Why, the boy has a singer's soul … though if you believe that song, you may well be dimmer than the first Reek. Even the riding part is wrong. I was hunting a fox along the Weeping Water when I chanced upon a mill and saw a young woman washing clothes in the stream. The old miller had gotten himself a new young wife, a girl not half his age. She was a tall, willowy creature, very healthy-looking. Long legs and small firm breasts, like two ripe plums. Pretty, in a common sort of way. The moment that I set eyes on her I wanted her. Such was my due. The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos. "This miller's marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged, and claimed my rights beneath the tree where he was swaying. If truth be told, the wench was hardly worth the rope. The fox escaped as well, and on our way back to the Dreadfort my favorite courser came up lame, so all in all it was a dismal day.

adwd, reek iii

the above always sends a chill down my spine... "a peaceful rule. a quiet people. that has always been my way. make it yours." you delusional lying bastard 🩷🩷🩷

this passage is notable as well because it shows us that rams is an unreliable narrator. it's not the first time either!!

Ramsay was clad in black and pink—black boots, black belt and scabbard, black leather jerkin over a pink velvet doublet slashed with dark red satin. In his right ear gleamed a garnet cut in the shape of a drop of blood. Yet for all the splendor of his garb, he remained an ugly man, big-boned and slope-shouldered, with a fleshiness to him that suggested that in later life he would run to fat. His skin was pink and blotchy, his nose broad, his mouth small, his hair long and dark and dry. His lips were wide and meaty, but the thing men noticed first about him were his eyes. He had his lord father's eyes—small, close-set, queerly pale. Ghost grey, some men called the shade, but in truth his eyes were all but colorless, like two chips of dirty ice. At the sight of Reek, he smiled a wet-lipped smile. "There he is. My sour old friend." To the men beside him he said, "Reek has been with me since I was a boy. My lord father gave him to me as a token of his love."

adwd, reek i

ah, but that's not true, is it, rams? your father gave him to you as a jest, to spite you and your mother. he was given to you both to harm you and it is a quirky little miracle that he ended up harming others with you instead.

rams tells himself and other stories about how he was welcomed into his father's house and beloved by him. how his mother was a great beauty who his father was in love with. and it's all lies. all dust upon the air.

i'll also note that roose describes reek as being "dim". i don't think there's much truth to that tbh. i think roose is proven time and again to view all the smallfolks as dumber than him. beneath him and mostly inhuman. this is really well defined in arya's acok chapters when she serves as his cup bearer and she is totally invisible to him.

"A fine rule, m'lord." "The woman disobeyed me, though. You see what Ramsay is. She made him, her and Reek, always whispering in his ear about his rights. He should have been content to grind corn. Does he truly think that he can ever rule the north?"

adwd, reek iii

[ALICENT HIGHTOWER VOICE] AND AEMOND... YOU KNOW WHAT AEMOND IS.

this btw is where my characterization of ramsay's mama really takes root. i think it's obvious enough what she was doing without this explicit confirmation from roose, especially with how ramsay acts and how he speaks about himself. but this is the crux of it. she had everything taken from her. her husband murdered and her raped under his still-warm corpse. and then she carried her pregnancy to term in the hopes that the gods would grant her a boy who could be given a place in the world that she never could be.

to me this is where the cycles start cycling. not with reek and ramsay, but with a desperate, violated, brutalized woman giving her son back to her rapist and insisting that he claim him. like, if she were... i'm not certain that i would call her a "Good Victim" for doing this but she could have aborted her pregnancy. tried to rebuild her life now that her husband was dead and she was physically brutalized. aboritcides are plentiful in westeros. or if she wanted to keep her pregnancy to term she could have lived the rest of her quiet life with her child in weeping waters in the shadow of the dreadfort. and she could have kept her son far from the leech lord who brutalized her.

but she didn't!!!!!!!! she shoved that baby right into the wide open razor toothed mouth of the monster who brutalized her!!! she knew exactly what kind of man lord roose bolton was and she was determined to get her child recognized by him and taken into his fold.

i love that rams is like... a personification of her all consuming rage as well as a personification of his father's brutality. it's great.

"He fights for you," Reek blurted out. "He's strong." "Bulls are strong. Bears. I have seen my bastard fight. He is not entirely to blame. Reek was his tutor, the first Reek, and Reek was never trained at arms. Ramsay is ferocious, I will grant you, but he swings that sword like a butcher hacking meat."

adwd, reek iii

further evidence of reek being significantly older than ramsay! a child would not tutor another child. further evidence also that reek was already a brutally violent man before he and rams started playing the most dangerous game in the woods. he taught ramsay how to hack people apart with a broadsword.

also calling reek ramsay's "tutor" here reinforces to me that their relationship was inappropriate. odd for a young child and his teacher to be "inseparable".

"He's not afraid of anyone, m'lord." "He should be. Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. Ramsay should fear them all, as I do. The next time you see him, tell him that." "Tell him … tell him to be afraid?" Reek felt ill at the very thought of it. "M'lord, I … if I did that, he'd …" "I know." Lord Bolton sighed. "His blood is bad. He needs to be leeched. The leeches suck away the bad blood, all the rage and pain. No man can think so full of anger. Ramsay, though … his tainted blood would poison even leeches, I fear."

adwd reek iii

aaaaaaaaand back to ramsay's bad blood. "I had him whipped for that, a dozen lashes. Even his blood smelled wrong." :> where did all the bad blood come from, i wonder? his sire perhaps?

i love roose describing rams as full of anger. that's his mama's anger 🩷 calcified by roose's rejection of him and his refusal to accept this. spurred on by reek's proclivities and by reek's own rejection by his liege lord. just a horrible layer cake of brutality and violence and abuse.

that's all the quotes i have for you!!!

to me it is obvious from the above text that reek sexually abused ramsay as a child. possibly when he got older and bigger and stronger and reek was a much much older man, smaller and frailer, he really was meek and obedient to ramsay. but it didn't start out that way. his tutor would not behave with deference towards him. the man who taught him how to hack meat apart with a broadsword and how to hunt women through the woods before skinning them was not... subservient to him.

the closeness between them is suspect just because of their age difference and further suspect because of who reek is and what he does.

i also think that ramsay would never see this as sexual abuse. i think ramsay and theon have exactly the same frame of mind here where it isn't possible for them to be sexually abused or taken advantage of because they're men and that doesn't happen to men.

it's obvious that ramsay thinks of his relationship with reek fondly. fondly enough that he tells people reek was a token of his father's love. fondly enough that he creates a new reek for himself after the first one dies.

to your point about ramsay torturing theon into his reek when he never tortured reek, i do read part of that as revenge. like a sort of inversion of what was done unto him. i don't think that reek tortured ramsay the way ramsay tortures theon! but i do think he assaulted him. a major theme with ramsay is the playing of parts (a theme intensified and continued when jeyne is brought to winterfell as arya) so i see his sexual abuse and torture of theon as an inversion of what reek did to him.

i mean, i think ramsay tortures theon for other personal reasons. like resenting his beauty, his status as a lord's legitimate son, and the way he treated him in winterfell when he took it over. and just because he's a sadist who likes torturing people to get off. but also i like to think that it was an inversion of what reek did to him.

i'm unsurprised also that this isn't really talked about because the asoiaf fandom in general loves to say that the cycles are cycling but hates to admit that the evil monstrous characters who hurt people were also hurt themselves. so it's like bad fandom politics to say that ramsay bolton, who is a serial killing serial rapist, was also raped as a child. and put into situations with people he never should have been in because he was a child.

this is way too long it's way too many words it took me like the whole day to write it!!! i hope you read it to the end and don't get bored!!! thank you for your question mwah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[chishiyasleftnut]

I love your writing smmmm <33 could you do chishiya with girlfriend who suffers from anxiety? (Social anxiety) one and kind of introverted type?? Thank youuuu.

Hi there! Thank you for your support and request (-^〇^-)

This one is really short, but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please let me know if you’re fine with the occasional short fic! Life has been quite busy lately as I’m both moving apartment and writing my bachelor’s thesis, so I haven’t had much time and energy to write for this blog, sadly. 

Nonetheless, I managed to finish this cutie! I hope you’ll enjoy it ( ღ’ᴗ’ღ )

(It wasn't planned, but there's no gendered language regarding the reader, so this time it's a gn!reader story!)

Silly Thoughts

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: None! Pure fluff. Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader.

Plot: gn!reader suffers from social anxiety, leading them to cancel an event hosted by Chishiya’s work. Chishiya, who does not understand anxiety, tries to figure out why and attempts to help gn!reader overcome their anxiety.

1090 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“I just don’t feel like it.”

For the past week, your mind had been filled by nothing but the big event you had agreed to attend. Chishiya, your boyfriend, had been invited to a seminar run by the hospital he worked at - invited was a kind word, as it was definitely not voluntary whether or not he attended. Luckily for him, he was allowed to bring a guest, giving him a tiny sliver of hope that he wouldn’t be completely bored out of his mind.

“Why not?” Chishiya asked while tying his tie in the mirror. He had never understood why you were so anxious about social gatherings. Sure, he didn’t like them either, but he wouldn’t say he was anxious about them. Annoyed would probably be a better word.

He watched you in the mirror as you fiddled around with your hands, trying to come up with an excuse that could be somewhat believable. As always, you didn’t meet his eyes when you were anxious. He had yet to figure out why, but his best guess was that you were scared he could read your mind or something.

“I don’t feel like it today,” you repeated. “I feel sick.”

“Sick?”

Chishiya turned around to face you, immediately springing into his well-known role as a doctor and taking a few steps closer to you before putting his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. Just as he suspected, you didn’t have a fever. You were, however, shaking enough to hit a 6.5 on the Richter-scale, trembling as if your body was the epicentre of an earthquake.

“Why don’t you want to go?” he asked again, his hand moving around your face as he continued to feel for a fever.

No reply came out of your mouth, your eyes glued to the floor. With a gentle finger on your chin, Chishiya raised your head, so you were looking him in the eyes. You were expecting him to look angry that you were trying to get out of a promise; to be pissed that you didn’t want to do this one thing for him; but he didn’t look mad. No, quite the contrary - he looked… concerned?

“Tell me,” he insisted again, his tone softer than you’ve heard him before.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, no words coming out as you tried to figure out how to explain to him what was wrong. Your own fears felt silly to you and admitting an irrational fear like that to someone as chronically logical as Chishiya felt like defeat - even though he was your long-term boyfriend whom you loved dearly. Surely you should feel open with him at this point, no? So far, he had yet to belittle any of your thoughts, no matter how small and irrational they were. He was safe and you knew that.

“I don’t like big crowds.”

“Really?” your boyfriend asked, sounding slightly confused. Chishiya had never suffered from any type of social anxiety. Mostly he just found unnecessary social interaction bothersome to deal with - not anxiety provoking. “Why not?”

“I’m… I don’t know. I’m scared people will talk to me and I won’t know what to say, or maybe I’ll fall flat on my face in front of everyone and they’ll laugh, or I’ll-“

Chishiya interrupted you with a finger on your lips and a small chuckle, slightly amused by the way your brain was spinning itself into death, circling around every hypothetical scenario.

“That won’t happen. You’re intelligent and very much capable of walking without falling over your own feet.”

“But what if I’m not?” you asked with a small voice, almost sounding like a child.

Although Chishiya was still smiling, you didn’t feel as if he was making fun of you. Instead, it was clear that he just enjoyed getting a glimpse into how you worked. From the first time you met, Chishiya knew that you and he were very different people, and truth be told that was what he loved about you the most. You were almost like a puzzle to him - a constant riddle he couldn’t wait but solve. He was almost itching to figure you out, excited by the way you were led by emotions instead of logic like he was.

“Okay,” he finally said after a while, his hands immediately working on loosening his tie. “We’ll stay home. I’ll call and tell them I’ve gotten sick.”

No words, not even ‘pure and utter relief’, could adequately describe your facial expression. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding, immediately feeling ten times calmer and lighter at his words.

“But,” he continued while placing his tie on the table and slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You’re starting therapy for this.”

“Therapy?” you asked, now sounding slightly anxious again.

“Yes, therapy. You can’t avoid crowds forever, you know? I’ll help you find someone who can help you with this.”

Chishiya’s eyes darted all over your face as you took in his ultimatum. At last you decided that potential therapy sometime in the future was way less scary than the concrete social event you were otherwise forced to attend. Hence, you nodded and accepted his demand.

With his white dress shirt open, Chishiya pulled you into a hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, pausing with his lips pressed against your face to savour the serene moment. You allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, letting the remnants of his aftershave travel up your nose and overwhelm your senses, effectively grounding you in reality and melting away every lasting remain of the anxiety that had previously paralysed you. All that mattered right now was him - not some stupid medical seminar. Crisis averted.

“You know,” he finally said after a minute of silence. "You can always tell me if something is wrong. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I know, I just feel stupid admitting silly stuff.”

A sharp exhale of air huffed out of Chishiya’s nose and travelled over your forehead as he half-chuckled at your words.

“You can be silly without being stupid. You’re never stupid.”

For a few seconds, you let his words calm your mind. You didn’t want to admit it, but that was exactly what you needed: to know that Chishiya didn’t find you to be unintelligent just because of the way your anxiety was dictating your life at times. You felt Chishiya’s lips graze your forehead again, sealing in his words and cementing them in your mind.

You are never stupid.

[fizzy-blood]

Jane the Killer Headcanons🔪🖤[NSFW]

Shout out to @emo-clown-fucker for telling me to follow my dreams🥰 (I asked if I should write for Jane and they said yes.) So I hope you enjoy! GN s/o but I wrote it as AFAB ^_^

Warning: 18+/NSFW content!! [Bondage, strap-on, actually kinda fluffy at points?]

I'M FINALLY WRITING FOR OUR GIRL KISSER QUEEN. THIS WOMAN MADE ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY AT THE AGE OF 9.

It's really only fitting if I write some stuff for her 😌

So let's get started by saying that she is... Really... Sweet during sex?

She's very gentle for the first few minutes and will make sure you're actually enjoying yourself.

She's also normally on top and is a bit more dominant but she's fine with you being on top of you really wanna try that!

Random thingy but I actually headcanon her as demisexual (just felt the need to say that idk)

She also has a thing for tying you up (if you're ok with it of course, she doesn't wanna make you uncomfortable)

She'd also give you a safe word or make you do a simple action like tapping her hand twice so you'd be able to tell he to slow down or stop.

BACK TO THE TOPIC OF BONDAGE!

Jane would never use rope unless you'd rip anything else she has to tie you up with. She actually finds it harder to tie knots with and thinks the texture is bad.

She actually likes using ribbon if she can. (It's soft and pretty and easy to tie)

She has also probably gagged you at some point! (Jane owns a ball gag for when she normally does that kind of stuff but sometimes will use a clean sock if she can't find it)

Jane also enjoys it when you squirm around when she eats you out. (Takes it as a sign of you feeling good... Which... It is!)

Now, I normally do a dick description but... She doesn't have one of those... So I'll just describe her body type and stuff... :3

She's about 5'9, a bit chubby and is generally pretty curvy (also hip dips 🤤)

I'm not good with explaining breast sizes but I think she'd be a C-Cup (did I do that right? I don't fully know... I feel like I should know how tit sizes work☹️)

she doesn't really shave that often (HNGGG) but her body is also mostly burned so a good chunk of her is just... Hairless? (Mostly on her left side)

But she's fine with shaving what is there if you really really want her to..

She also normally keeps her mask on during sex and takes it off immediately after.

Just got so used to wearing it that she sometimes forgets it's on..

Also! She owns a couple different strap-ons! The one she normally uses on you is black and about... 7 inches? She has some that are smaller or bigger but that's the one she picks 80% of the time.

It's mostly smooth but it has a couple bumps near the tip for texture. (It's also made with softer materials so it really doesn't hurt 💖)

Aftercare!!

Again, takes off her mask immediately after. It helps her untie you and make sure you're ok physically.

She asks how you're doing and then asks if you need anything.

Jane probably is strong enough to carry you but if she can't she'll just help you walk by putting her arms around you and keeping you propped up.

So she'll help you get to the bathroom for a nice hot shower or warm bath if that's what you want!! (she's one of the few people in the mansion with a bathroom attached to her room so don't worry about anyone seeing you)

She'll make you a tea or grab you a glass of water if you feel thirsty or see if she can find you a quick snack if you feel hungry.

If not? She'll lay down on the bed and pull you against her, having your head resting against her chest or lap.

Jane also has a nice voice and will softly hum till one of you falls asleep <3

11/10. I want her.

I had so much fun with this? Hello? Uhm... I hope you enjoyed reading this!! I love Jane so much and she rarely gets written on here so... Yay!! Did I feel you guys well? Anyways... My ask box is open so feel free to send an ask or idea or request! Please reblog because likes don't do shit in this place and once again, I hope you enjoyed!!

-Fizz

(Black dividers by @sister-lucifer , also I think the star ones are by then as well?)

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

First of all - CONGRATS!!! 🥳

and while I'm here, can I also request S&🪶 please? (i'll leave the rest up to you)

YOU'RE AWESOME! 🖤

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy what I came up with (incidentally, this also works as a @subeddieweek entry, whoops 😅🖤)

I'm celebrating 1k followers - requests are open!

A matter of control

Rated: E

Words: 990

Tags: Dom!Steve, Sub!Eddie, bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation (or the attempt at it), they're idiots your honor

“Here we go,” Steve murmurs. He lets the ends of the silk rope glide through his fingers, admiring how the black fabric shimmers against the pale skin of Eddie’s wrists. “You still good, baby? Too tight?” 

“I … no.” Eddie shakes his head, trying to wiggle his way out of the blindfold - black silk to match the ropes. Steve watches how he bites his lip when he realizes it won't budge, how he darts out his tongue to sooth over the spot, and smiles smugly. “Just … not sure this was my best idea.” 

He tugs on the ropes tying his wrists to the headboard. Steve makes a low shushing sound, cupping his face with both hands, and Eddie goes very still. 

“Hey, it's okay,” Steve says, voice gentle but firm. “I gotcha. You know that, right?” 

Eddie nods, a jerky flutter of movement. 

Steve smiles, running the pad of his thumb over a flushed cheekbone. “Say it for me?” 

Eddie gulps and shivers under his hands, but he relaxes. “You got me,” he rasps. 

“That's right, Eds,” Steve coos, leaning in for a long, filthy kiss. He doesn’t pull away until he feels Eddie go boneless and pliant under him, and when he does, it is to a whine of protest. “Wanna keep going?” 

Eddie nods frantically, then remembers he's supposed to use his words. “Fuck, yes. Stevie, please-” 

“Okay,” Steve says, silencing him with another kiss. “Okay, baby.” 

He kisses and nips his way down Eddie's jaw and neck and chest, making sure to keep it light and teasing - he still has a lot planned. Only when Eddie’s breathing quickens and he starts squirming does he stop and pull away. Eddie whimpers at the loss of contact, straining against the blindfold. 

“Stevie? What’re you-” 

“Patience,” Steve admonishes, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out the object he hid there. Then he runs the tip of it along Eddie’s side, one smooth drag from his armpit and over his ribcage, all the way down to his hip. Eddie yelps and almost jolts off the mattress. The headboard creaks. 

“Jesus fuck- … Is that a fucking feather?” 

“Clever, aren’t you?” Steve praises. He makes the feather paint a wide arch over the dip of Eddie’s hip bone, then drags it back up to his chest. Eddie lets out a snort. A rather loud, rather unsexy one. “Everything okay?” 

Eddie gives a weird, nasal kind of squeak. His lips are twitching, and Steve realizes he's desperately trying not to laugh. 

“Eddie?” he asks, momentarily stopping his ministrations. “What's wrong?” 

“Fuck,” Eddie wheezes, nostrils heaving. “Okay. Okayokayokay, this is not- … So, here's the thing, I'm sorta ticklish.” 

Steve chuckles. “Well, good. If you weren't, this wouldn't work.” 

The tip of the feather traces the spider tattoo and Eddie lurches. 

“You don't understand,” he pleads. “Not just a little ticklish. Not the cute and sexy kind. More like the full-body-spasms-and-laughing-fits kind. I can't control it, man, I'll-” 

“Eds,” Steve says gently, putting a hand on his chest to push his squirming body back into the mattress. “Don't you think you’re being a bit dramatic? This is what it's all about, right? Stepping out of your comfort zone?” 

Eddie hesitates. Steve knows he's blinking furiously behind the blindfold, even without seeing his eyes. 

“I guess …” 

“See?” Steve murmurs, dropping into that low rumble that does things to Eddie. “Now … I want you to be nice and still for me. I know you can do it. Long inhales and exhales, follow my voice.” 

Eddie does, letting Steve guide him into a pattern of deep, relaxed breaths. When Steve starts tracing the feather over his naked skin again, he whines and twitches, but not as violently as before. Steve keeps it up, covering him in praise and gentle commands while he crawls further down, ghosting the feather over Eddie’s hip bones, his thighs. Eddie's breaths turn into little whimpers and his hands twitch in their bonds, but he holds still, letting Steve’s voice settle over him, sweet and soothing and thick as honey. 

Until the feather touches the inside of his knee and Eddie’s leg jerks as if zapped. Steve is faintly aware of a foot connecting with his temple, a firework of pain erupting behind his eyes, and then all goes dark. When he comes back to himself, he's on the ground beside the bed and Eddie’s voice is a high, panicked babble somewhere above him. 

“-vie, I'm so sorry, please say something. Oh my God, did I knock you out? Are you unconscious? Please don't be unconscious, I don't want the kids to find us like this, Henderson would never let us-” 

“Jesus,” Steve groans into the carpet. His heartbeat is a jackhammer in his skull and his ears are ringing. “You kick like a horse. Why don't you just kill me? Be done with it.” 

Eddie laughs, breathy and relieved and just a little cheeky. 

“Now who's being a bit dramatic, big boy? And besides, I warned you.” 

Steve huffs, finally picking himself off the floor and clambering back onto the bed. Eddie jumps slightly when the mattress dips, but eagerly turns his head in Steve’s direction for another kiss. 

“Alright,” Steve grouses. “Message received. No more feathers.” 

“Glad we agree,” Eddie hums, arching into the touch of Steve's lips tracing more kisses down his neck and chest. “Now get this thing off me so- what are you doing?” 

Steve, who has just started swirling the tip of his tongue around one hard nipple, stops and grins. 

“Ah-ah,” he chides, pushing Eddie’s legs apart and crawling further down, breath ghosting over the tip of his flushed cock. Eddie gasps and twitches under his hands, but this time, Steve's hands hold firm. He's not making the same mistake twice. “I said no more feathers. I did not say I was done with you. Now be a good boy and hold still.” 

[jj-stay]

How about age gap and overstimulation with bangchan 🖤

Just a Number

Word count: 2,188

Pairing: chan x stya

Genre: smutt

Rating: 18+

Warning: overstimulation, age gap. mentions of lingirie, foreigner reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, penetration, choking, spanking, biting , pinching swearing, cream pies, corruption kink {a little bit}, dumification, "babygirl", becoming his cum dump, and slut shaming, {pls tell me if i missed any}

☪️Master list☪️

thanks so much for the request. please keep in mind that i was a time crunch with this but i hope you love this one and would send in another. just know that you might not get an immediate response as i am trying to find a schedule that would work with school and a writing competition, at the moment. college is currently kicking my ass. so please bear with me. but thank you again for the request and remember that your appreciated

Thank you…(´人｀●)SOOOOO━━＼(´∀｀●)／━━MUCH!!

The sun is now setting after a long day of fun and celebration of your 21 birthday with your boyfriend Chan and the rest of the boys. Now after it all you're here waiting for channie to join you in bed. You were 20 years old when you two had first started dating. The age of consent still stands outrageously high.

 Neither of you had gotten together for sex but it had still put some kind of a light strain on your relationship over the months that passed. 

so many times you had to begrudgingly pull apart after getting too heated. so many times you had to leave your boyfriend bricked up. all because of the stupidly high age of consent bar.

not today though. not now. you decided that after so long you are finally going to get laid by the man you moved to korea for in the first place. 

Hence the reason you were now laid in a white lingerie you bought off a site you found while looking for some cute outfits to tease him with. you are now sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him to come to the bedroom. you wanted to see his reaction. you never told him what you were doing nor did you let him find out about the online order. hence the reason why you had to hide the delivery that came to the house for nearly a week now. 

now you don't need to hide it anymore you can now show him the lingerie and maybe he'll want to see what's underneath.

you hear footsteps coming your way. and you get yourself ready, sitting facing the door. blue framed glasses you rarely used now sat on your nose. you remembered how bangchan always became so much clingier when you wore them saying it made you look sexy. 

as you heard the handle of the door to your room jingle you remembered your hair is down. you quickly gathered your hair up into a messy ponytail and just as you were finishing up tying it with the hair tie on your wrist he stepped in. 

he froze in place. eyes wandering your curvy full frame being hugged in all the right places by that beautiful white lingerie. sheer white thigh high stockings reaching mid thigh. providing a white but mostly clear layer over your plump thighs.the lace that rimmed the stockings barely able to stay in place, almost falling and rolling down at the loss against your thick ness. only being saved by the white straps that were connected to another piece of floral print lace that is now wrapped around your abdomen, having a gold chain connect it to a white choker that wrapped snugly around your throat. his eyes drifted back down to your cleavage. lace bra not covering the shiny nipple piercing you had gotten years ago. his eyes traveled even further down to the flimsy panties that in his opinion did nothing, but god did he love the sight. you sat with your legs closed but after seeing where his eyes landed spread them slowly and teasingly much to his delight. The lace, clear enough to show your hungry hole. now dripping for him without him even touching you. the thought of you becoming wet just at the thought of him ran straight to his dick. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

he walked over to you, closing the bedroom door behind him. as he stood right before you, and you looked you at him over the rim of your glasses in the most feigned innocent way he has ever seen, he rested his hand on your thigh. he ran his thumb over the fabric before commenting,

"if i didn't know any better i would have thought it was my birthday we were celebrating, and this is my gift."

he slowly lent in as he spoke. punctuating his statement with a kiss on your neck. you hummed in satisfaction of his action. 

he leant in closer and whispered darkly in your ear;

"can i ravish you?" his voice low and barely audible yet seeping with lust and power.you nodded your head and he smirked at you. He pulled back. He brought his hand up to your jaw. gripped tightly on your jaw pulling you in for a rough and passion filled kiss. his tongue slid across your lower lip asking for entrance. when you didn't open your mouth for him he bit your lower lip. thi caused you to gasp in shock, letting him slide his tongue between your lips and explore your mouth. he pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. your tongue almost out of your mouth and eyes clouded over with lust. He looked down at you and bit his lip. how can you look so cute and already so fucked out without being fucked yet. god he really needed to see what you would look like after being fucked into oblivion. fuck. 

you try to lean in for another kiss. He moved his hand from your chin down to your throu\at and squeezed lightly. a moan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes in pleasure. oh fuck, was he gonna have a lot of fun expiramenting withyou. maybe even discover kinks that were not even invented yet. 

god is this gonna be fun. He squeezed a little tighter before almost completely letting go. and if your whines and mewls were anything to go by you weren't quite happy. He let his hand let go of your throat and let his fingertips glide up your neck until he reached your chin where only his index finger followed the line to your chin. you seemed so entranced by him you let yourself follow his finger until you were standing in front of him. his right hand wrapped around your waist. as his pointer finger layed where it was and his thumb rested on top trapping your chin between them. He hummed at your obedience.

"your twenty one now love. you know what that means. you can get punished if you don't listen now." he said smirking.

you bit your lip and whispered up to him;

"I don't think I would mind at all."

"oh, is that so? oh trust me baby girl, i promise i'm gonna make you change your mind. lets see if thats what you say after being fucked so good you go brainless, after you become my personal cum dump, after i make you my slut." he talked down to you darkly hand drifting from your your lower back to your side hooking his finger under one of the thin flimsy strings that held the lace panties to you, before lifting it up and letting it go, makeing it slap against your skin in a deliciocly painful way.

you moan at the sensation. you tilted your head back and closed your eyes as if to bask in the pleasure that is pain. he watched as you did so. he quickly proved that his muscles aren't just for show, when he grabbed the back of your thigh lifting you up and wrapping them around his waist. he then took advantage of your surprise to kiss you roughly. tongue once again exploring your mouth and dancing together with yours. He stepped closer to the bed, climbed on and layed on top of you taking your hands from around his neck and pinning them above your head. He then began grinding against your core. The fabric of his jeans rubbing against the fabric of the lace made friction so good you moaned into the kiss. 

he smiled into the kiss pulling away. He looked down at you as you continued to moan. He began moving his hips faster and harder. you began seeing stars becoming so close to cummming without him being in you. when he saw this he smirked. He kept up the pace and brought his hand up to your throat and squeezed lightly. and just as he did you moaned loudly and came right then and there. 

he slowed down his pace and kissed you gently, before stopping. He pulled back and kneeled between your legs. quickly undoing his belt, undoing the button and the zip and quickly pulled the damned jeans off. before he let his shirt follow. you look down at the prominent bulge in his boxers as he pulls them down, and as he did so you watched as his thick cock sprung free of its restraints. as he let th article of clothing oint the rest you bit your lip. 

he slid him self down so his face was between your legs he kissed youur clothed core as he looked up at you. you let your head fal against tthe pillow. you were so surprised when he quite litterally RIPPED the panties off you. you opened your mouth to speak but what came out in its place was a loud moan as you felt the wet surface of his tongue run over your cunt from top to bottom. after lappping up all your juices he groaned into you before toungue fucking you. he slipped his finger into you. and you moaned even louer. then unbeleivably louder when he slipped two more into you. curly stretcching and moving them as he sucked on your clit. soon he had brought you to your seccond orgasm. it all felt so good you could barly warn him before you came. not that he cared though. he was to busy absolutly devouring every drop you spilled for him. soon pushing you in to over stimulation and closere to another climax. 

he begrudgingly pulled away from you. he looked at you and how fucked out you already are. now there's jusst two more promiss he has to finish. and that starts with making you his cum dump. 

he rose up from between your thighs. surprisingly without a drop of cum or spit on his face. he really didnt want to waist a drop of you. 

he pushed your folds apart as he lighed up with your hole. he roughly pushed into you. bottoming out into you. you let out a scream that turned into a loud moan. at how painfull but pleasureable the stretch of him in you is. god he was so big.  he waited for you to ajust to his size. you soon whined and grind down onto him. he took that as his sgn to start moving. 

he pulled almost entirely out before slaming back into you roughly. he continued to fuck into you. you felt every bump and vain of his thick cock in you. and he felt hoe heavely your walls felt arount him. he felt how tightly you griped his cock when you were about to hit your climax. you squeezed him so good he could barely move. god he loved this. he brought his hand up to your through and squeezed. his left hand running down to your clit, playing with the bud. it all beacame too much for you very soon. it was all so good you began tearing up, especcially when it seems impossible for him to mis that one spot inside you. that however only made him moan as you grippped even tighter around him before you cacme on his cock. the unholy noise of squelching that each thrust brought sent him flying over the edge. as he it the spot inside of you that did magic one more time he came inside yuo. despite already cumming he weent back to pounding into you after his high was over. you both were driven into overstimulation. as he continued to drive his cock deep into you. he let go of your thrroaght much yo your dissapoinment. you whined at the loss of of the sensation only to be reponded with the pinch of your clit.

"aAaAaaaaahhhhhHHH! cHaNiE!~~~~"

god did that hurt, but felt og so amazing. he lifted your right leg over your shoulder. hitting even deeper in you. your mind went blank only remeberingg his name. only aware of how fast and hard his huge cock is pounding into you.

"sluts dont get to whine baby girl. they just be gratful of whhat their daddy ggives them. ok?" he asked, you were far too fucked out to respond. and when he didn't get the answer he wanted or any at all he spanked your clit harshly making you cry out, before pinching it again, pulling roughly on chain conected to your chocker. you cleenched areound him before responding. as all the amazing feelings came crashing down on you like a bus. 

"y- yes daddy. i promise i won whine anymore. a s- slut like m-me shouldn't complain."

with a few more thrusts you both came. everything hightend by how overstimulated you both were. as he cstowed down allowing you both to come down from the high, his hot seed started spilling out of you, and he just watched the sight play out before him. how beatiful.

[midwestmade29]

Bonded 🪢

I have been wanting to write this for a long time and I'm excited that I finally brought it to life 😍 This fic was heavily inspired by the picture below the line. All hail our World Champion Swerve Strickland 🖤

Word count: 1.2k Divider by: @saradika-graphics Photo source: Twitter

Disclaimers: Cursing, Shibari/Kinbaku (rope bondage), unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.

You'll do anything to help Swerve escape his demons...

It wasn’t unlike Swerve to come home tense and on edge. After going to war with a cowboy and fighting his way to the top, there was a lot on his plate. Some people under that kind of pressure would turn to anything to help dull the pain and make the thoughts stop. Alcohol, exercise, meditation, just something to slow the speed of the world around them.

For Swerve, you were his drug of choice. His kryptonite that brought down all barriers and walls he continuously builds around himself. So tonight, when he walked through the door with a solemn look on his face, you knew exactly what you needed to do. While you were in the bathroom, you could hear Swerve on the other side of the door in your bedroom shuffling around. You had removed all articles of clothing and slid your silk robe on before securing it with the sash. Once you were ready, you emerged from the bathroom to an empty room. The glow from the flickering candles was all the light surrounding you as your eyes panned around for any sight of Swerve. As you walked closer to the bed, what was lying on top of it proved your instincts were correct. Red jute rope.

“You know me too well, Y/N,” Swerve murmured as he walked up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, taking a moment to enjoy the way the silk felt on his bare skin. He pushed your hair away from your neck with his fingertips, causing goosebumps to form in their wake. Your knees nearly gave away when he nipped and kissed the delicate skin of your neck. He made sure to place his lips near the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been playing with my demons again, baby. You’re the only light in all this darkness. Let me tie you up and give me a taste of Heaven before they drag me back to hell again,”

Swerve helped you slide out of your robe, admiring the way the flames of the candles seemed to dance on your skin. He had you lay in the middle of the bed while he began tying and knotting the red rope around your calves and thighs. His touch was firm yet delicate as he secured each intricate knot, making sure to take his time while he perfected his craft.

“Do you remember why I chose red rope?” Swerve asked as he secured your wrist to the rope around your thigh. “Because you like the way it looks against my skin, especially when my skin is flushed,” you smirked. Swerve’s throaty laugh filled the room as he nodded in approval at your answer. “Very good, baby. Maybe I’ll reward you for your excellent memory,” he said with a wink.

Once your other wrist was secure, he instructed you to give the bonds a tug to make sure that everything felt right and comfortable. You gave him the green light when you were certain the ropes were how they needed to be, which allowed Swerve to stand and admire his handiwork.

You were completely exposed and open to him, vulnerable and putting all your trust in him. The way he looked at you like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks made your arousal grow, longing to be touched by your tormented lover.

The bulge in Swerve’s pants was evident as he walked over to the dresser and pulled something from the top drawer. Your eyes followed his every move as he walked back to you with a black feather in hand. He hovered above you, placing the feather on your collarbone and tracing along it. As it tickled your skin, you couldn’t help but squirm!

Swerve kissed you passionately as he brought the feather down to one of your nipples, each soft swipe against it made it pucker and stiffen. He covered your nipple with his mouth, taking the stiff peak in between his teeth and pulling before massaging it with his tongue, leaving you panting as he moved over to the other side. The feather created a trail from your breasts down to your navel and across your hip bones. Swerve traced the path it created with his tongue, the coolness of the air in contrast to his warm breath made you shiver.

“You’re so sexy like this, Y/N. Tied up and ready for me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more perfect,” he praised, his words making you tug against the rope.

The look in Swerve’s eyes was pure lust and desire as he peered up at you from in between your legs. He sat the feather aside as he planted kisses on your inner thighs between each knot and twist of the rope. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly in anticipation of his next move.

"I believe I said I was going to reward you for your excellent memory, didn't I?" he asked rhetorically before devouring your sweetness.

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue and mouth mercilessly worked themselves against your clit. Every lick, every suck, every hum of approval from Swerve brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers echoed off the walls moments before you were about to unravel, but he stilled his movements.

“N-no, please,” you begged breathlessly.

The smile on Swerve’s face was anything but sweet as he stood and began unbuckling his belt. “As much as I love the thought of you cumming on my tongue, I think I like the thought of you falling apart on my dick more,”

With your legs spread wide, Swerve thrusted himself inside of you. The only thing you could do to soften the intrusion was to grab hold of the ropes around your thighs. Your walls stretched around him as he moved in and out at a steady pace, your lower half feeling incredibly full. He pressed your knees to your chest as he began to find his rhythm, your body jolting with each thrust. Swerve made sure he was positioned just right so he was hitting all your sweet spots inside and out.

“Come on baby, give me what I want. I can feel how close you are. I know you need this, let yourself go,” he spoke brashly.

It was as if he had total control over your body as it began to tremble beneath him, you knew you were done for. “F-fuck! Yes, y-yes!” you moaned.

Within seconds your orgasm completely consumed you, each wave of pleasure better than the last. Showing no mercy, Swerve fucked you through your release as he continued to chase his own. “S-so perfect for me baby. So, f-fucking perfect,” he grunted against your lips before crashing his own against them.

As he came, his hard length twitched and pulsed against your walls, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. The two of you were a panting mess as he collapsed onto your chest and savored every sensation his release provided him. When he was able to stand again, he kissed your knee and began to untie the rope. You stretched your legs and twirled your wrists once they were free.

After cleaning up and getting situated in bed, you rested your head Swerve’s chest as he pulled you in close. Your fingers traced over the plethora of scars there before you kissed each one of them. While the ones on the outside of his body were permanent, you had hope that you were helping heal the ones internally. Whatever Swerve needed; whatever he wanted you were there to give it to him. Even if that meant chasing off his demons whenever they decided to haunt him.

[pauli-artt]

So this isn't a request or anything but have you heard people's hc about winter king killing his universe's version of marcy somehow? I'd like to think that the situation was something along the lines of him thinking he had it all under control, going to see marcy, and then the crown taking over...and, well, you know.

ANYWAYS I see a lot of WK comforting simon over their mutual lonliness, but what about Simon comforting WK over the guilt and grief he feels for marceline? I imagine he'd be terrified to tell Simon because he thinks he'd hate him for it- which is a valid fear. But he isn't. He'd already kinda figured it out a while ago. Instead, he pulls him close and tells him it's not his fault. He knows WK finds his body heat comforting. He continues stroking his hair long after his tears have stopped, until he's fast asleep.

Anyways I needed to share that with someone who would appreciate it, ty for reading this!!! I love your art so so so much. 💙🖤

Hello there! :D I absolutely love all theories about the ice Marcy. People are so creative with these! My favorite one is that Winter King froze/killed Marcy because she was furious that he made Bubblegum crazy. He thought she'd be so happy to see him "normal" again but it turned out she was angry... so he, influenced by the crown, did what he did, but *still* loved Marcy and wanted to be with her. So he created someone (or something... who knows) that is *almost* like her.

About the second part - I'd love to draw that idea too, but I didn't want to make you wait for my reply so much haha :D So you'll see that soon!! I think that they have a mutual understanding of their loneliness. Completely different kinds, but deep down they're still the same person and experience it quite closely. Simon can see all of that in Winter King's behavior, even if he's acting like everything is cool. Simon knows how he would act and can see that in WK's words and actions.

So be prepared for some more art based on all of that >:) I love it when people send me their ideas hehe

Thank you for your kind words ♥ I'm glad people like my silly art

[ugh-yoongi]

Your writing is so good. Without a doubt some of the best I’ve read on this app/ao3!!!

wow, that’s really high praise 🥹

thank you so much, i’m really glad you enjoy my work. 🖤

[skitskatdacat63]

[LOUD EXPLOSION SOUNDS] hi how do i give you my firstborn. your art of nayq seb is INCREDIBLE. THANK YOU SO MUCH? ‼️⁉️ i'm literally shaking like..... what the fuck....... you were inspired enough by my word vomit to create ART??????? actual living legend. i cannot thank you enough ! !

can i add a link to your post in the fic? jumping around the room like i need to show Everybody i've ever known that nayq seb exists visually rn jdknfkjdnfjkgn but also i understand if you don't want to bc of privacy reasons and whatnot!

many many thanks again 🖤🙏

-user mwebber

AAAAAAAHHHHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THEM 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 YOUR TAGS ARE GONNA MAKE ME CRY 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I SWEAR IM GONNA LIKE PRINT THEM OUT!!!!!! TY FOR ALL THE COMPLIMENTS 🥹🥹🥹🥹

I'm glad you liked the little Chapter 2 sweater Seb!! That was the last thing I drew, because I couldn't stop thinking about him in Mark's oversized sweater(also conveniently hiding the plaid I didn't wanna draw again), and of course I had to add cat ears 🤭 It's fun to draw the chibis because I scribble that kind of thing every day so I dont have to think too much lolol, I wish I could've drawn more little direct references!

I couldn't help but have Seb show a little bit of midriff in the Chp 1 drawing, this is incredibly specific but, there's that vid of him from Australia 2011 with the sheep, right? And when he's bending over, his shirt is riding up and the top of his boxers are poking out, and that's been stuck in my head for weeks, so I absolutely had to include that(especially since he always wore such baggy pants) I agree with NAYQ!Mark calling them the ugliest shorts ever, I had a bunch of ref pics of his real-life shorts and I'm just like god...you're so right...who let him wear those so often...

With that Chp 3 one, I have to say, even though I've now drawn it, I still can't stop envisioning his outfit as this outfit from that one post-2010 press conference:

I'd hopefully like to draw nayq!Mark at some point? I just haven't drawn men in so long.....but like I said in the tags, it's a lot easier to draw when there's descriptions available!!! Because I tend to deliberate so much over drawing, but your writing inspired me so much!!

Sorry for the huge response AAAHHHH I just wanted to give a little insight to my inspos 🤭 Also of course you can link my post, I would be so honored!!!!! And now I will go back to my cave, and patiently await Martian Monday again hahaha

[joe-moi]

Please just block those hateful anons. They ruined all the other gossip blogs with the hate they spouted . Some fans seriously need to grow up.

If you don't like a certain blog then don't go on it. Quite simple really, there's no need to send hateful messages.

To the Anons sending hate have a long hard look at yourselves because you're the fans that suck the fun out of everything. You're the ones who make this fandom toxic and not a fun place to be.

Blog owners ty for making this a safe, fun place to gossip and to talk to each other.

Please look after your mental health (both the people who run this account) 💖 once again pls just block the hateful anons for the sake of your own mental health. You don't need that shit.

We really try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes people have bad days and maybe take it out on others, so I want to give everyone an opportunity to correct their behavior before resorting to blocking. We really do truly love each and every one of you who make this a fun experience for us, and for all of you. That's why when people start being ridiculous, we make a post telling everyone to knock it off as a warning.

I don't always have the time to sit down and be active on here as much as 🛼 does, but if people are being disrespectful to 🛼 I WILL step in.

Thank you for your kind words, nonnie. We appreciate it 🖤

[cornerstoreclown]

I’ll definitely dm you the fic for any input you might have before I post it! It’d mean tons 🖤 I also have ADHD so I know I’ll have missed a few things. Knowing we share the same struggle warms my soul!

I’m still trying my hand at writing the gory details of slashers and horror in general. I don’t know how I’d describe my style of it but I’m having fun relearning the basics. I’ll also totally check out that author you mentioned, always love discovering new work.

The wip I have in progress is my first Art fic but the INDULGENCE of this character — ughh. I understand. So fun. Writing for him is amazingly unpredictable and cathartic. Ty Damien and DHT BUT ALSO BLESS THIS RECENT FIC OF YOURS!! I literally woke up for work today like a zombie but saw your nsfw piece at the top of my feed and I was UP, I’m demonstrably down bad so thanks again haha keep it up!

<3,

🦇

YES PLEASE DO! You can DM from sideblogs, I found out. So if you want to remain anonymous like how I like to remain (semi) anonymous, there’s a way to do that. I usually DM people from my sideblog here since I’m not ready to rip the mask off fully over here on my end. I will eventually, likely. I’ve gotten way more comfortable but I am still very much enjoying the benefits that come with being somewhat unknown. 

Yeah! The author I mentioned, he’s not a horror writer. He’s more of an adventure/romance/smut writer who writes about his own original characters. It’s the way he weaves sentences together that has always captivated me. He knows how to hit you with a plot twist, too. I just ordered his last book that came out posthumously and I should crack it open. 

I know there was a pretty good gore writer out in the terrifier fandom, but I don’t know where they went off to. They’re the one who inspired me to get into the scene. @/clownc4fe did pretty damn good with their fic especially with the gore portions and I still look at it from time to time. No idea where they went off to, but I hope they’re okay. I would say maybe consult some slasher fanfic of more popular characters on AO3 or do some looking into the anatomical setup of human bodies if you are comfortable in doing so. 

OH NO, NOW YOU’RE REALLY HYPING ME UP HERE WITH HOW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE WORKING ON!!! AHHHHH!!! I had to take a second to happy stim before continuing to write to you, and I’m still doing it intermittently in writing to you haha. 

Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m touched, genuinely. I’m sorry you had to work on a Saturday, but I’m glad that it made your day brighter. Knowing that made my NIGHT brighter! Like a little beacon in the darkness! I will absolutely keep it up!!! I will aim to give you content to get you through the grueling shift!  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[stevesbipanic]

I love your writing posts and the prompts so. freaking. much. Everything is a source of inspiration for little artist like me!

Sooo, how about some Halloween themed Steddie? 🖤🎃

Ahhh Ty, it's wild that I could be an inspiration for any art since all of you artists on here are so talented 😍💖

I'm in a spooky mood so here's some Halloween Steddie for you.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Halloween had been a sore spot for Steve since '84. When your girlfriend breaks your heart on a holiday it kind of makes you hate the holiday. Eddie however, loved Halloween, which was unsurprising. October 1st Steve showed up to his boyfriend's trailer and saw it already decked out in skeletons and bats.

"You'd think you'd be sick of bats after what we went through, Eds."

"If anything bats are more metal now, Stevie."

Eddie had asked Steve if they could have a Halloween party at his house weeks in advance and of course Steve had said yes not wanting to spoil the fun for his boyfriend.

They'd decided to go as Claire and Bender from The Breakfast Club, mainly cause Eddie would get a kick out of calling Steve "The Princess" all night as if he hadn't called Steve that numerous times before.

Nancy and Argyle had agreed to pick everyone up in their cars leaving Steve and Eddie enough time to finish the food and decorations.

"It looks great sweetheart, like the haunted house of my dreams."

"Only you would have happy dreams about haunted houses."

By the time everyone had arrived, Steve had just finished setting out all the food while Eddie was finishing his eyeliner. The kids tumbled through the door when Steve answered it, beelining it to the food.

"Hey Princess where's your Criminal?"

"Haha, hey Robs nice Fred outfit where's your Daphne? Ed's upstairs."

"Nance is helping Will fix his coat, a button came loose in the car but they'll be in in a minute."

Once Eddie came downstairs the party was in full swing and Steve was actually having a good time. After a few hours the kids were starting to get drowsy so Steve set out the spare mattress and blankets, setting up Gremlins for them to watch as they all fell asleep.

The older group moved to sitting out by the pool, wanting to engage in non kid-friendly activities. Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle passed around a joint which Eddie occasionally shotgunned to Steve while the group passed around dumb stories and drank.

Eventually even the teens had to sleep splitting into the guest rooms and Eddie following Steve to his room. The two boys helped each other wipe off what was left of their makeup and into comfy clothes before laying down in bed.

"Thank you for making Halloween fun again, Eds"

"Anytime sweetheart. I know the day had a bit of a black mark for you with Wheeler and all but I really love that you tried for me. My favourite princess" Eddie said giggling softly and kissing Steve's cheek.

"Of course Eddie, I'd do anything to make you smile. I-I love you Eds," they'd never said the words to each other but now felt right, it was time to make a good Halloween memory.

Eddie moved forward capturing Steve's lips kissing him deeply, "I love you too, Stevie."

Now whenever Steve thought of Halloween there was no mention of bullshit or punch or broken hearts, just two boys madly in love with each other.

[comphy-and-cozy]

congrats on 500!!! can i request 🌺 with prompts 2 & 128 with PLD or josty?

thank you so much doll 🖤

celebrate 500 with me!

Prompts: #2 “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” / #128 “you’re pretty.” - “you’re drunk.”

Pairing: Tyson Jost x Reader (f) Word Count: 740

Warnings: Alcohol use/mention, one (1) man with a mustache, maybe a slightly toxic relationship situation + a little bit of angst

The pulse of the lights above you syncs with the heavy beat of the bass over the EDM remix playing from the DJ’s booth. It’s dark, and loud, and entirely not your scene, but your newly-single roommate had dragged you out, citing a night at the club as the perfect recipe for moving on from her dramatic break up.

Of course, the club she selected was the most popular in Edina, where all of the summer NHLers went after Da Beauty League got out. And, naturally, she went straight to them when she arrived, which is how you found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some handsy hockey player with a dirty mustache. 

He's cute, you suppose, but you know you're going to disappoint him when you reject his advances later on, not interested in a one-night stand. Not when your on-again, off-again situationship is standing across the bar, sloshing his 3rd or 4th paloma over his lilac button-up while he guffaws with a few boys from the summer league, each on the prowl for the night's prospects.

He'd caught your eye, once, a curt nod his only greeting. Typical.

There was a reason your relationship never progressed to relationship, and the answer was always Tyson. He'd be sweet, kind, doting one day, then afraid of commitment and distant the next. You couldn't entirely blame him for not wanting to settle down like so many of his friends – he was young, rich, living a bachelor's dream. What you could blame him for, though, was the way he strung you along, keeping you just close enough to keep you coming back for more, falling for his shit every time.

So, the last time he called it quits, you told him that he’d better be sure, because you weren’t coming back. And so far, you’d held true to your word, allowing whats-his-name to buy you a drink, and, when he asked you to dance with him, honey slurring out of his pretty mouth, you said yes.

Ultimately, though, you do end up disappointing Mustache Man, letting him down easy when the next song ends. You glance around for your roommate, who you eventually locate in the corner, lips locked in a passionate kiss with the guy you’d seen her talking to earlier. 

With a sigh, pleased that she appears to be getting what she wanted from the night, you return to the bar to order yourself another drink – one more, you decide, and you’ll Uber home, assuming that your roommate wouldn’t be sharing the ride with you.

“You’re pretty.” The voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you’re met with the brown eyes and messy curls of Tyson Jost.

“And you’re drunk,” you laugh, watching the way he stumbles slightly.

He scoffs, then mumbles, “Not drunk enough.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Tys?”

You catch the way his eyes flick to his teammate, the man with the mustache, in a subtle glance. He says nothing, just grumbles to himself as he downs the rest of his drink.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, not believing the gall he has to come up to you and say – 

“So what if I am?”

“You don’t get to do this, Tyson. Not anymore.” Your words are strong, but your confidence is not, wavering under the weight of his gaze that’s trailing over your collar bones, exposed in the top you put on with the hopes of attracting his – or at least someone’s – attention.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“You always do,” you scoff. 

You’re about to walk away when he grabs your hand, causing you to pause in your tracks. The sparks of electricity when his skin touches yours is impossible to ignore, but you do it anyway as you turn to face him.

“Please,” he says. “I want to do this. For real.”

The words he says are warm, and so is his hand on yours. His eyes are pleading, looking into yours as if he hasn’t done this same thing countless times before. You can feel the scabbed-over scars on your heart protesting, head telling you to run for the hills, that you can’t take another heartbreak from the curly-headed boy in front of you.

But your heart gets the best of you, like it does every time, and you tug at his hand as you make for the door.

“You’re calling the Uber this time.”