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yauchfilms · 2 days

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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment.

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation.

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?”

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked.

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing.

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it.

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family.

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables.

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,” mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression.

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt.

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror.

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area.

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you. “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right.

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him.

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment.

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin.

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin.

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it.

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it.

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you.

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise.

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you.

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle.

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back.

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him.

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you.

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful.

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye.

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek.

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him.

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery.

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass.

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long.

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor.

“i thought you said we weren’t–”

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast.

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest.

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were.

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later.

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point.

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds.

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly.

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers.

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers.

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband.

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way.

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel.

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready.

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue.

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach.

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth.

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come.

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you.

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you.

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides.

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm.

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks.

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen.

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

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deansapplepie · 3 days

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Ya look ridiculous (drabble)

A/N: just painted my nails and it came to me. Not exactly what I imagined, but here's a small treat to you. Also, I'm working on chapter 19 of Till THE DEAD do us part. 🥰

You had just painted your nails, an habit that you had lost along after the outbreak. But now, from time to time you'd make your nails, just to feel a sense of normalcy. It was good to play with the nail polish and all that colors.

And that was what you just did in this moment. You had just painted your nails, beautiful colors of pink and blue, you had to pink nails on each hand, the thumb and the middle, the others a beautiful bright tone of blue. You were happy. Feeling a little like your old self.

You entered the kitchen of the shared home of your found family. They were all reunited for lunch and you arrived all smiley and sat yourself between Maggie and Carol. "Why are you so smiley girl?" The younger one asked you.

" Cause I just did my nails and they look amazing." You said almost shoving yout hands on her face.

"It's pretty and exactly your style." She said gigling at your act. As soon as she said that all the woman on the table asked to see your nails, just as you'd do with your friends back at the old world.

"Ya look ridiculous." You were startled by Daryl's voice. He got up and left the room in all his grumpyness. It didn't surprise you, he was always like that when it was you, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.

He pounded into you religiously, your face pushed against a pillow and your ass up high. Your nail polished hands held the covers viciously while the pleasure consumed you.

"Ya've been the whole day teasing me with this little pretty hands of yours, ain't you?" The redneck spoke at your ear his hair and stuble sending tingling sensations from your neck direcf to your over estimuladed cunt. "Was that what you wanted? I know it was... ya know pretty damn well how I love that cute hand of yours."

You meowed. "I knew you'd like it."

Neither of you knew why you continued with the act, but it made things so much more exciting... Sneaking around, fooling around all when you thought nobody was noticing or when there was the risk of getting caught... You two wasn't exactly smooth about it, everyone knew, but they let you two have fun pretending you weren't head over heels for each other.

You did do your nails because you liked and to few a little bit normal, but you also knew how we worshiped anything that had to do with you and how he would secretly tell you how pretty your hands looked with your girlie painted nails. Another thing that you knew was that the simplest thing you did , would make him do you in the most sinful and delicious way.

You still had a long long night ahead of you.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd #deansapplepie #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon x you #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n

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stars-and-the-min · 2 days

Text

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (10) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the calm before the storm?

masterlist | last part | part 10 | next part (tba)

INSTAGRAM

mclaren Shanghai International Circuit

54,829 likes

mclaren Looks like a race day to me 🤔 tagged: oscarpiastri and landonorris

pi4str1 good luck papaya fam 🧡🧡🧡

michelle.ar manifesting double podiums again

jimpxcs Let's go boys 🔥

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h WELCOME BACK LINA F1 LIVE TWEETS ↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h she's so real for these reactions honestly 😭

INSTAGRAM

lilymhe just posted to their story

TWITTER

🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 45m stfu i'd know that silhouette anywhere. lily muni he at shenzhen n3??? ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 39m not just lily! alex, logan and oscar were also spotted in the venue!!

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m omg oscalina crumbs 🥹 ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m this is so sad, they've already hard launched, why do i still feel like i'm in a drought

INSTAGRAM

lilymhe

liked by selinabui and 143,284 other

lilymhe Been hanging out with some rockstars lately 🤟 tagged: alex_albon, cameliazzz, selinabui and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri Today I learnt: I still suck at golf ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri dw babe, at least we suck together ❤️‍🩹 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui 🥹

selinabui gonna stick to singing my silly songs that was such a humbling experience ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You did better than Alex

pastry81 the mother convention ft some kens

alex_albon I personally don't recommend karaoke with a musician

linasgirl4 THANK U LILY MUNI HE FOR CONTRIBUTING TO THE OSCALINA PHOTOS WE APPRECIATE U GREATLY liked by creator

oscarpiastri

liked by selinabui and 201,395 others

oscarpiastri Some moments off-track

dan_pjd puppy !!!🥺 so we have roscoe hamilton, leo leclerc and this is...? ↳ marie_h.sb @dan_pjd apollo! lina adopted him a year ago

landonorris I thought that was lily but no, she's really serious about that golfing thing, ain't she?

celia.sucxr why does he keep posting her ↳ pastry81 @ celia.sucxr because that's his girlfriend???

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 4h too many people bitching and moaning about oscar posting about lina but u don't understand, if u were dating selina bui, u would also never stfu about her ↳ opal @pxastrixxx · 4h she's still mid lmao ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h until u have acclaimed music critics blaming ur success on pretty privilege, shut up :) ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 3h oomfie you ATE that and also unlocked a core memory

INSTAGRAM

emptybottles_official Shenzhen Bay Sports Center

liked by zhouguanyu24 and 362,486 others

emptybottles_official A beautiful Shenzhen homecoming for Lina and Jonny 💖 Thank you guys so much for three amazing nights of fun (and screaming with us) 🔜 Bangkok

lilymhe had an absolute blast! ↳ emptybottles_official @ lilymhe join us again soon?

zhouguanyu24 Did she sing THE song? ↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 keeping dreaming man

piastri_lina shenzhen, how does it feel to WIN 😭

TWITTER

emme @flowersforcami · 1h and what do melb n1, tokyo n2 (replacement) and shenzhen n3 have in common? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 49m oscar piastri shows you will always be famous ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 28m no bc someone needs to get the stats on her energy when oscar is in the crowd like girlie is BEAMING

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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abouttofillhisshoes · 3 days

Note

Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️

I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭

Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!

Rush! - Matty Healy

A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!!

wc: 9k

content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.)

Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing.

“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.

“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.

“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction).

Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway.

Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair

“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.

“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him.

“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space.

“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves

“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty.

“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.

“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk.

“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed.

“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out.

Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at?

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him.

“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air.

“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating.

The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside.

“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him.

“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.

“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach.

“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did.

“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders.

“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way.

“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!”

“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans.

Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it.

“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin.

“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses.

“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless.

You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.

Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder.

Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes.

Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now.

“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust.

“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet.

“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.

Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point.

“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess.

His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself.

“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses.

Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning.

He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more.

Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face.

“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door.

“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-

“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face.

“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.

The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff.

Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.

“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited.

“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks.

Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer.

“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests.

“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket.

Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo.

George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side.

“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself.

“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.

George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse.

A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.

“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh.

His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.

The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.

“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.

“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time.

“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty

“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.

Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.

“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.

“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off.

“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize.

His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop.

“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room.

“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot.

You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.

The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight.

You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross.

“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’.

“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.

Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.

“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps.

Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted.

“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down.

“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end.

“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement.

“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.”

The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next.

Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something.

A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all.

Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents.

“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw.

“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly.

“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?”

A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you.

“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard.

“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’.

“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–”

You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact.

“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view.

You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling.

The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.

Jesus christ.

Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.

His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him.

“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not.

An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.

“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.

“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.”

You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.

He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead.

Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.

“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car.

“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front.

“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief.

“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips.

“No.”

“W-what?”

His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done.

“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you.

Towering over him, you observe.

It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it.

Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room.

You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints.

“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions.

“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.

“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue.

Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm.

You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free.

“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?”

Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest.

“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.

“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds

“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.

“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.

“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.

“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.

“Look at what you do to me.”

His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted.

“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking.

“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant.

“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”

“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again.

“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin.

“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.

“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house.

You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought.

“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane.

“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck.

Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand.

“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand.

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him.

“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements.

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.

It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug.

You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south.

You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him.

“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely.

“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy.

“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak.

“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white.

You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body.

Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks.

“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest.

“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief.

“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.

“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close.

“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh.

“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead.

“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain.

“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze.

“Was it?”

“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest.

“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.

“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice.

“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.

Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization

“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body.

“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief.

“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”

“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan.

“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.

“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him.

Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so.

Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you.

“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up.

“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city.

Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.

Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses.

“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.

You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box.

A small one.

read part two here xx

#i had so much funnn #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #drive like i do #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #the 1975 smut #matty healy x reader

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ta3baee · 1 day

Text

Jungkook with a chubby girlfriend Pt.2 !

Pairing : Idol!Jungkook x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings : Nsfw headcanons after the sfw, I will include a cut and another warning though.

Mona’s notes : Edited & proofread by my wife. Minors dni! I’m not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Part one here! Reblogs are very much appreciated <3

SFW !

• He’s the type to take your insta pictures for you and hype the fuck out of you, I’m talking “Yes mama!”+ “mhmmm look at those hips”+ “those curves my god” + “that’s my sexy lady” and so much more.

• Literally lives for your stomach pudge and your fupa?? Yup, he’s crazy for it.

• He knows you so fucking well that it’d take him just one single look to know how you’re feeling. If he catches you double checking yourself in the mirror with your hand slyly pulling down your shirt to cover yourself, he’d be up on his feet immediately and listing all the beautiful things about you, aka everything.

• We all know he’s basically a gym rat, and what’s a better trope than gym rat bf x chubby gf?? Absolutely nothing. He’d look so big and buff beside you it’d make you feel tiny and protected.

• When you’re out with him and get some looks from both men and women, he’d just stare at them and make them uncomfortable with a hand wrapped around your waist, holding your tummy (that’s how big his hands are).

• He adores it when he sees you cooking in the kitchen wearing a tank top, shorts, and no bra. You’d be minding your own business, and he’d just come up behind you and grab a boob or both and fiddle with it, other times he’d grab your tummy and squish it while whispering good morning and sweet nothings in your ear.

• During his late night lives, he’d go on and on about you, talking about a very simple feature of you in such beautiful detail; it could be a dimple or a specific stretch mark, he’s smitten.

• Imagine him sleepily blabbing about you;

• “my girlfriend is the best”

• “I’m gonna marry her and make her my queen- she’s already my queen, but an upgrade-not that she needs an upgrade”

• lmao, you get it.

Nsfw below, do not proceed if it’s not to your liking

or if you’re a minor !

NSFW !

• A lil nsfw version of him taking your pics; “You’re making me so hard” + “What if I were to just bend you over right now?”.

• When your looking at yourself in the mirror, he’d come up behind you, hold your tum tum, and whisper dirty shit into ur ear all while he makes you hold eye contact with him.

• When he takes consensual pictures/videos of you riding him, his hand would either be holding your hip or grabbing a handful of your ass.

• Considering the proven fact that Namjoon loves thick girlies, Jungkook would - with your consent send him some of the videos of you riding him and throwing it back at him just to see Joon literally fall apart. He can look, but he can’t touch.

• On that note, when Jungkook has you over, he’d make sure to tap that ass extra hard so you’d be louder, and his bandmates would be forced to listen to you and suffer with their own boners…If only Jungkook would let them hit it…If only.

• This man is filthy rich, so prepare yourself to be spoiled to the max. New sets of lingerie every fucking day, if he can’t choose between two, he’ll buy you both… and an extra one.

• That hot portrait on his wall? That’s you and him; he’s shameless when it comes to you and doesn’t even bother hiding it when he’s on live. He’d simply do anything to show you off, even if it means getting in trouble with management.

#˚ ✧ mona !#ta3baee's work #jungkook imagine #jungkook x chubby female reader #jungkook x reader headcanons #x chubby reader #bts x fem chubby reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x chubby reader #jungkook x female reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts x female reader #bts x reader headcanons #bts x plus size reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x chubby reader #jungkook x plus size reader

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tipsyleaf · 22 hours

Note

Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)

Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.

Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.

They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.

- Anon! 🎀

Suggestive Moment Below Cut

No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.

"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.

"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.

"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.

"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.

"What are these for?"

"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.

"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.

"As long as I want?"

"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.

"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.

You sit back, nodding to yourself.

"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.

"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.

"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.

"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.

As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.

But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.

Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.

Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.

"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.

But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)

Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.

Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.

"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."

"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies

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teyvathandymenclub · 2 days

Text

Genshin Men on the Dancefloor

Story: You have been begging him to go clubbing with you for ages. Even though it was not the usual way for you to spend your free time, it was an exciting idea to change scenery and see him dancing. Hopefully.

Characters: Wriothesley, Childe/Tartaglia

TW: When I am in a good mood I write stuff like this. Sorry in advance. Just fun.

Wriothesley

"I am going to stay here and watch you." Wriothesley resisted your tug towards the dancefloor while pointing at the bar.

"No, you promised. And promises are meant to be what?"

"Fine." He rolled his eyes while smiling. "Can I have at least one drink?"

"Sure!" You grinned knowing deep down that he would enjoy it.

After a short while of chatting at the bar with your drinks, it was finally time.

"Let´s go!" You jumped down from your high seat when you swallowed the last drops of your beverage.

"Why are you so eager?" He laughed as you made your way through the crowd.

"I have never seen you dancing!" You shouted in the loud space.

The music was perfect so you started dancing the moment you hit the dance floor.

Wriothesley's moves were careful, shy. His tempo was out of beat as he was stuck to your body using you almost like a shield. But after a few songs, his confidence rose and suddenly the dancefloor was all his. Everyone was eyeing this big guy throwing hands, shaking his hips like it was his last night on Earth.

“Can we go back?” Wriothesley asked you the moment you left the building.

“Now? No!” You squealed. “Next week? Please? I do not feel my feet anymore.”

“Ok, no problem. But I feel like staying there until morning.” He smiled, wrapping you into his jacket.

“I know.” You frowned. “What have I done…”

Childe

He was the one that invited you to go out dancing. There is nothing that you would not experience with him, but dancing? No matter how hard you thought about it, you could not recall seeing him dance.

Childe always knew how to party. The whole night was filled with laughter. All that running around the city made you feel like a teenager again, leaving all your problems behind. After settling at your final destination, you have something to drink and cuddle in the dark corner of the bar. Until…

“That is my favorite song!” Childe jumped up. “Come on!”

He dragged you onto the dancefloor and immediately got into the groove of the late-night dancing. You could not believe your eyes. The man you have known for years, who shared every dark secret with you was hiding dance moves like these?

“Who are you?!” You laughed.

“The best you have ever had!” He shouted back and kissed you while moving like a dancing queen.

After a few songs, he suddenly bumped into you.

“Ouch! Keep that pointy elbow away from me.” You frowned as the light pain went through your body.

“Sorry girlie, I will take care of you after I deal with this…”

But before he could finish the sentence he got punched right in the face.

“Hey!” You shouted at a stranger who hit your boyfriend.

“That is ok, leave him for me.” Childe smiled with a swollen half of his face.

You were almost used to these kinds of situations so you left the dancefloor and sat by the bar. Everyone was gathered around the dancefloor as you had your drink patiently waiting for your man to finish his games.

After a moment someone placed a hand on your lower back.

“All done.” Childe smiled at you.

When you found yourself on the empty street, you finally asked him.

“What has he done?”

“He bumped into me. Ruined my whole choreography.” He shook his head. “Idiot.”

“Oh. What a horrible human being.” You frowned.

“Him? Yes. Or me???!!”

“Let's just go home.” You rolled your eyes.

“You are so done with me.” He laughed. “But you love me. Right?”

You chuckled as you handed him a tissue for his bleeding eyebrow.

#genshin #impact #genshin impact #fanfiction #fanfic #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesely x you #tartaglia #childe #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x you

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 days

Note

Hear me out. Chauffeur takes the vees out in one of their sports cars and someone on the road challenges them to a race.

What are the reactions from each of the vees?

Drag Racing

PolyVees x GN!Reader

TW:Valentino and the mentions of some NSFW

A/N:YES YES- MORE CHAUFFEUR READER

Let me preface this with you know better than to listen to some demons who think they are better than the Vee’s but also..you know every back road and fastest route around Pentagram City. It’s like you have a digital map in your head, also it’s very easy to remember when traffic gets heavy.

Stick with me here cause I know nothing about sports cars or anything of the like and I’m not going into specifics cause I’m too stupid for that shit. But- all three have different tastes in cars, especially personal cars.

Vox likes the new high tech sports cars while he can appreciate the looks of old cars. I feel like he likes Lamborghini’s mostly. He has many of his signature colors, but if he wants more privacy (especially if he gets overwhelmed) I’m thinking he has an Audi.

Valentino Most definitely likes the classics but can appreciate the modern versions. He mostly does have classic cars like the cars made by the Morgan Motor company. It has that old classic look that he absolutely eats up all the time. But he does have a few Ferraris’ all of them having some sort of his signature colors to it. He doesn’t let ANYONE except you drive his cars cause he knows while it’s your job- that you do take care of them and if something comes up they are immediately fixed by the best people.

Velvette is a Mercedes-Benz girlie, she has the least amount of cars out of the three. She can appreciate the look of it and loves how the roof can collapse (if that's the word Idk). She can also appreciate BMW's. She's not a hater (yes she is..shhh).

ANYWAYS BACK TO THE PLOT-

You were driving the Vee’s around one day and a demon drove up next to the car, their vehicle tricked out to well..hell and back. Sadly for you, you had your window rolled down so you were able to hear all the curses and name calling before the taunts started. You looked over to the Overlord next to you, wondering what to do cause this person would not shut the fuck up.

They all have different reactions from this but either way, they find it so fucking hot that you can easily beat someone’s ass in a race without having to gloat about it. Also the way your eyes lock in on what you're doing and how your jaw locks? If you weren’t kicking someone’s ass in the race all three would probably jump your bones.

If you're with Vox he’ll most likely tell you to ignore them which you do easily unless he’s in a mood. Then he lets you race the idiots trying to one up him, he’s not scared. He has more confidence in you winning than he does in himself.

Valentino…is a different breed. He will allow you to race against someone and he will gloat about it, but the only rule is it can’t be in one of the Morgan cars cause he will actually fucking kill you if you race in that car, those are his relaxation around Pentagram City cars. The Ferrari's? He couldn’t give a shit about, don’t be afraid to mow people down if they get in the way too. He has his hand on your thigh the whole time as well.

Velvette does care but if she’s annoyed enough by the person she will look at you and give you the go ahead, she will livestream the whole time too. Just don’t hit anyone or anything cause she will throw a huge fucking fit, that’s her car.

Once you win the race? Oh boy, get out a gloat for a bit cause the others surely will. Even if you didn’t demand money, they will. Most likely Valentino will kill them or destroy their car.

Vox will pull you in and tell you how he didn’t have any doubts about you losing.

Valentino will more than likely use this as a way to get you to sleep with him or he will try to put moves on you the whole ride back to the tower.

Velvette is gonna be kissing up on your face and leaving lipstick stains all over your face and then going online to tell everyone how you were the best.

A/N: IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Tag List: @aboyscriminalrecord, Come get some food bestie-

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stinkykitty8 · 2 days

Text

DOING YOKI FIRST :3

(Yoki belongs to me!!! Everything else credits to Gatobob!!!)

WARNING

This post incudes very heavy topics, nsfw, 18+ stuff, and overall just not very good things. Do not read if you are sensitive to these things.

Read warnings before pressing more please!!!

(Events of BTD 1 happen with Ren and Strade but Ren was kidnapped at 19 and decided to escape at 21, still dealing with a bit of stockholm syndrome he never actually goes to police after.)

After escaping Strade and building himself back up Ren ends up paying a prostitute to fuck during his heat. And because of this it caused an accidental pregnancy she didnt want. She wanted nothing to do with the baby but she also couldn't afford to get rid of it. Instead she just waited it out and after having Yoki she tracked down Ren and gave Yoki to him. Ren took full custody of her and Yoki's mom hasnt been seen since. Ren named Yoki (full name Yokino) and raised her all by himself even thoughit was a bit of a struggle. Ren allowed Yoki to be more free and give into her animalistic instincts more which also caused her to be much more animalistic then Ren. Aka being more feral and getting triggered much easier around like blood or food (especially when hungry). As a young child she really liked meat of course, especially rabbit. Due to Ren taking her out into the woods sometimes and allowing her to hunt she enjoyed bringing back a fresh kill with her bare hands (even when being young she was still able to do it). He doesnt mind Yoki hunting on her own, actually enjoys it and is happy it makes her happy. As long as she doesn't come back home covered in blood or brings the dead animal she killed on the porch he doesnt care. Hes proud of his little girl. At a young age Yoki was introduced to Rens jobs but she didnt really care. Since she basically grew up with it even as a baby its sorta just a thing she knows about and Ren does. They are animals afterall. They have to give into their instincts at some point. Over time Ren started disposing of his 'stars' a different way by giving them to his private chef and asking them to cook it. It helped dispose of bodies easier and quicker all while having a good meal after. Because of this Yoki developed a taste for human flesh. Now she can't go a week without having her favorite meal, human heart. From rabbit hearts to human hearts. Yoki absolutely loves shopping and spending daddys money. Like once a week she gets his black card and goes shopping. Ren doesnt mind though since at this point hes pretty loaded. Plus he loves making his little girl happy. Ren and yoki have probably the most healthiest relationship out of all 3 kids. Ren has raised her well and the best way he can all while giving her a comfortable happy life.

As a young child yoki was often bullied in school for being a freak since beastkin are rare to find. It wasnt until around highschool she started to gain popularity due to her getting popular online. Shes your average tiktok and Instagram girly and being the daughter of a rich guy everyone wanted to be her friend after that. During middle school though she did make a few friends (and a few enemies) but nothing to serious. Basil was her number one friend all the way though just because of how well they bonded together (or well she bonded with basil). She saw him as a close friend and even better a brother to her. And with Hanz. Well he was the little prick. He was the main person that targeted both Yoki and Basil, picking on them and even going so far as to pull on Yoki's tail. Then one day he hust stopped and started staying to himself. Nobody knows what happened to Hanz during that and he never said what happened. Yoki alway knew Ren had scars but never knew what caused them. After learning some information from Hanz when they were older she gets help from one of Rens men to get on the web and check out of what she heard was true, and after snooping around on Strades account she finds out why Ren is that way. And due to this she gets in a small fight with Hanz but they end up settling it out. Yoki and Hanz are sorta a thing when older? But not? Its nothing serious. Mainly because Ren doesnt accept or like it at all. If he could he'd kill Hanz and Strade. He wants nothing to do with strade whatsoever even though Hanz did nothing wrong. Ren found out about Hanz and Strade during a parent teacher conference. Ren knew about Hanz before because Yoki would complain he would pick on her but after finding out it was strades kid he seemed to hate them both even more. Ren would have pulled yoki out of school if it wasnt for it being the only decent school around and plus he wanted Yoki to interact with other children. He couldnt just take that from her and hide her away. So he just protected her from afar. Ren wants nothing to do with Strade and as long as he doesn't bother him or Yoki he doesnt care. Strade likes the thought of fucking with Ren even if hes not doing anything. He could just sit back and relax as Hanz does all the work for him.

Yoki does know a bit of Japanese from Ren and Ren taught her a bit about their culture (trying to remember what his mother taught him). After getting older she could maybe only remember a few things but not everything.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK!!! :3

(Hopefully i wrote everything correctly and it makes sense X3)

#btd #boyfriend to death #btd oc #fan kids #btd fan kids #ren hana #strade #tpof #the price of flesh #kittys fan kids #yoki hana #kitty8 ocs

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thoughtsfromlayla · 17 hours

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Chapter Two - Trepidation

Summary: With palace life, you are never truly alone, but that doesn't mean you aren't lonely. Even when you meet new people, it seems they place you at an arm's length away. You walked on eggshells while people worshiped the very steps all the same.

Notes: ~5.1k words, centers a lot around Reader this chapter, Morpheus doesn't appear until the later bits soz

Warnings: Morpheus being a lil bitch, reader is a chronic overthinker and same girlie

Tag list is open! Just let me know :)

☾ ✴ ๋࣭ ⭑․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․

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Trepidation (n.) - a feeling of fear or anxiety about something that may yet happen

It’s very unlady-like to sneak back into your own room. You had only done it once before, when you were younger and less refined and even then you were caught by the housekeeper soon after. But this time it seems the stakes are raised. The halls are completely empty, the moon still has domination over the night sky, and the sun has yet to make its debut.

You have stayed in Morpheus’ bed for a few hours after he left you alone. The rules of palace life are still vague to the best of your knowledge, but after tossing and turning without getting any sleep, you figure it would just be easier to do it in the comforts of your own room. Is this considered rude? You’re not entirely sure. It seems rude to leave your husband’s chambers on the night of your wedding. Then you remind yourself that nothing actually happened… so perhaps it wasn’t as crude as your mind made it out to be.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see a lone guard stood at the front of your door. Your hands are quick to cross over your chest, the mere nightgown you were wearing was certainly not presentable to anyone else’s eyes. You stay frozen as you glance over his appearance. You were so dead. They’re going to hang you by the gallows and parade your sad body throughout the kingdom as a warning to other maidens that sneak out of their husbands rooms in the middle of the night.

The knight is dressed in black armor, completely different from the other soldiers you’ve seen around the castle who seem to don silver instead. His helmet represents that of a bird of some kind, a raven if you had to guess. With his arm crossed, he came off domineering and revered and you had half of a mind to turn back around so you wouldn’t get caught by him.

The beak of his helmet clinks against his chest plate and your muscles stiffen while confusion swipes across your face. A loud snore completely catches you off guard and you brace your teeth against each other as the sound reverberates across the empty halls. Your eyes dart around, hoping to any deity that is willing to listen to you that no one was around to hear.

A long pause passes and not even a cricket chirps. Another snore emits from the black knight before you consider it safe to pass. You slide your feet across the floor, keeping your footsteps as quiet as possible as you walk up to the bedroom door. Every noise seems to heighten to something ten times greater than what it actually was. The click of the door knob, the slight creak of the door, and the locking mechanism all made you grimace in case it is enough to wake the sleeping knight.

The bed is grandiose, cool, firm, and simply perfect against your tired body. You think that you would get a few winks of sleep before the sun rises. Yet, even in moments of peace your mind wanders to Morpheus. His words are like cough syrup in your mind, they coat every crevice of your thoughts, no matter how unwelcomed they were.

“I am no monster,” His words echo in your mind.

But he is a cheater… is he not? To (not) so secretly see his previous lover at his wedding and to chase after her, leaving you alone on the dance floor surrounded by doting couples. To admit to her that he still loved her. The confession that wasn’t meant for your ears still cut into your unguarded heart, leaving it broken before it could even flourish.

You try to distract yourself by counting the amount of swirls that were painted on the ceiling. Each time you get somewhere past 50 your mind wanders again to last night and you start over. By the time the first sign of daybreak makes it past the heavy curtains, you feel your eyes begin to droop. With a deep breath you welcome sleep, finally.

…

It doesn’t last, not even a second, when the doors to your room open with a slam. Your body reacts quickly to it and sits up with a start. You stare face to face with Agnes, who wears her own surprise on her face before she returns her emotions neutral.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I presumed you were with the King. May I draw a bath and get you ready for the day?” She asks.

“Um, yes,” You reply hesitantly. You watch as she goes to some conjoined room you didn’t notice before and enters it.

There's the sound of objects being moved around and water sloshing before steam fills the room. The scent of something sweet fills the air as she walks out. She gestures for you to come to her, which you do so with heavy feet.

Sleep once again tugs on your eyelids and you barely register when she removes your nightgown from your body. The warmth of the bath lulls you further into the tub and you reluctantly lean your head against your folded knees.

Agnes, seeing her queen in, well for lack of a better word, utter disarray, goes back to the cupboards and starts looking for some other herbs. She stacks the boxes on top of each other before making her way to your side. With a certain amount of gentleness, she places the boxes on the floor and kneels in front of the bathtub.

“Cinderbon flakes for muscle aches, my queen,” She starts as she sprinkles the red flakes into the water. “And some rose petals for romance.” Agnes pauses as she hears you groan under your mop of steamed hair.

She hesitantly places the rose petals into the water just as she did with the flakes before. “Lastly, some milk from a Natterhorn to aid with sleep…” She whispers finally as she pours a ceramic jug of cream colored milk into the water.

She mixes the concoction slowly with her hand before adding another bucket of hot water to help you relax further. You hate to admit it, but everything she added certainly helped. You feel her move behind you as she begins to wash your hair, ridding the last of the stardust from the wedding night. Agnes keeps quiet, presuming that is what you wanted most, and she would be correct.

The maid doesn’t comment on why you were not in the King’s chambers, nor how there wasn’t a single blotch of red on your nightgown, a telltale sign of any consummation. She’s curious, but she knows it’s best not to say anything in case she loses her tongue over it. If she were any younger, she’d be running off to her other maid co-workers and sharing the new gossip, but after a rather traumatic event to an old friend, she’s learned her lesson through her.

“I’ll leave you to soak, Your Majesty.” Agnes wipes her hands on her apron as she approaches the door. “Please, ring the bell when you wish to be dressed for the day, my lady.” With that the door is shut and you’re left alone once more.

“Please stop calling me your majesty,” You mutter to yourself.

Titles are not uncommon in your life, but something about “your majesty” was too much for you. It separates you too much from those who will take care of you. You miss your own lady’s maid, the one that has grown with you since infancy.

That title seems too grand, it places you on a pedestal and you can already feel the height it has placed you at. You’re afraid if you peak over the edge, you will plummet to your death. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong tick, and everything would be over. You walk on eggshells while people worship the very steps all the same.

Eventually, when the bath starts to run cold and your fingers are beyond wrinkled, you leave the bathtub. You wrap a towel around your body and tug on the bell that hangs by your bed. Soon after, Agnes appears again, this time with an army of maids behind her. They’re quick to make work of you, easily dressing, combing, and readying you within the half hour.

When they left your room once again, you’re fighting with the corset string behind your back. Agnes had somehow managed to tighten it beyond human comprehension and then manage to hide the strings beyond your fingers. After a frustrating few minutes with no results, you give up with a huff.

Cautiously you open the door, peeking your head out. You weren’t exactly given a schedule for today and if sleep wasn’t going to find you, you might as well find something else to do. For example, exploring the castle. Hopefully, no one would point a finger at you and get you into any trouble.

“Oh, good morning, Your Majesty,” A voice calls out close to your ear.

“Ah!” You scream, your hand comes up and pain tingles across your palm as it makes contact with metal.

“Ah!” The voice screams back as the slap makes contact with his helmet. It doesn’t hurt, the armor doing its job quite well, but the noise was bouncing around the helmet, rendering it no better than a bell. “What an arm you have there, Your Majesty.”

You stare wide eyed at the black knight as your pulsing hand places itself over your accelerated heartbeat.

“You!” You gasp with a pointed finger as the knight finally registers in your mind. “You’re the one that I snuck past last night… this morning?” You correct yourself. You drop your finger quickly, realizing perhaps a bit too late how rude it was.

At your comment, the black knight stiffens. “Er… What do you mean you snuck past me? I was guarding the door, no one came in or out.”

You blink, once, twice. “Right, you fell asleep?” You say in a way that may help him remember. That snore he made was surely a thought to remember.

His head cocks to the side, making him look all the more bird-like with his helmet on, and he stays like that for an awkward amount of time. Your eyes darted off to the side when he still hadn’t responded to you.

“What?” His response finally came. You could hear the embarrassed smile behind the helmet. “Haha… what?” He says again, laughing dryly.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone, but I guess you probably shouldn’t do that.” You try to soothe him to the best of your capabilities.

“I’m new?” Came his defeated response, his armor clanks against each other as he slumps from his perfect posture.

With a heavy sigh he turns around and bangs his head to the crevice between the door and the wall. The sigh leaves the crevices of his helmet like a whisper, reverating between the metal to make it sound like a soft caaaaaaa…. The helmet makes a heavy gong sound as it makes contact with the wall. Another sigh comes before he speaks again. Caaaa….

“I just got this job, I just got sworn into knighthood by the King, how can I mess up already. I’ve been in the academy for so long, I mean granted I wasn’t the best, but I still made it to the personal guard… right? I graduated, didn't I?” At this point, you’re sure he’s mostly talking to himself.

Moping would’ve been a better word for it, actually.

“What is your name, good sir?” You ask with a tap on his shoulder. It was mainly to get him to stop groaning and moaning so loudly in the halls.

He turns around, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and answers. “Sir Matthew, Your Majesty.” He salutes as he does so, bringing one arm behind his back, the fist of the other over his heart. Your mind rattles as it remembers the symbolism for the salute: Your heart for the kingdom, cover your back for you will stab your own before your brothers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir Matthew,” You greet for the first time. “I’m Y/N.” You curtsy to him, which he returns with a low bow at the waist.

“Oh, yes, I know who you are, Your Majesty.” He nods as he returns to his regular position. His hand rests easily on the hilt of his sword.

Of course he knows who you are. The moment turns ever the more awkward, and you’re determined to leave the situation. With a final nod you turn to walk away, anywhere was better than here. It’s not a few steps later that you hear the synchronized steps of Matthew following behind. When you paused, his steps paused, too. You take two steps, his steps followed, two steps exactly.

“Sir Matthew?” You question as you turn around and face him.

“Yes?”

“Are you following me?”

A confused pause. “Yes?”

“Okay… Why?” You ask. You could feel a tension headache forming along the crown of your head and you’re not sure if it’s the tight hairdo or Matthew himself.

“I am your personal royal knight, Your Majesty,” He explains as if the information was self-evident.

“Ah,” You respond. You’re still confused, but whatever.

You begin to walk again and Matthew’s footsteps follow. Stopping briefly you turn to him again. “And you follow me everywhere?”

“Yes, always three steps behind.”

You raise an eyebrow as you take a step backwards. You watch as Matthew takes a step forward, copying you. You take a step forward and he takes one back.

“This might get annoying.” You think to yourself as you begin to walk normally again. Now you have a nanny. An idea strikes you then and you turn around abruptly once again.

“Sir Matthew,” You start.

“You can just call me Matthew, your grace, if that pleases you better.” He quickly interjects.

“Fine. Matthew,” You pointedly say. “What exactly are your duties? Your responsibilities?”

“Well, I look after you, my queen. I make sure you aren’t to be harmed and do as you so wish. Though I would prefer if your wishes for me can be solved with brute force.” Matthew explains simply.

“If I were to wish you to not follow me?” You ask unsubtly.

“I cannot, it is within my creed, and orders from His Majesty.”

You intertwined your fingers in front of you again, twiddling the digits between each other as you thought to yourself. Matthew stares forward as you do so, staying quiet until you speak again.

“If I were to ask you to make sure a certain person never sees me?” You ask slowly.

“I would make it so you forget they exist,” Matthew answers brutally.

You internally scoff as he says so. It would be near impossible to forget such a person. Jealousy courses through your veins as you think of her. Perfect curls, smooth skin, and soft pink and gold.

“Do you know of a woman named Calliope?” You ask finally. “I wish to never see her.”

Matthew stays silent for a few moments, and you think you’re already overstepping your boundaries. The knight did mention in passing that your orders are easily overruled by the King’s. Perhaps you didn’t have enough power to ask him of this, especially knowing the relationship between the two.

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” Matthew’s head tilts to the side once more and it suddenly dawns on you that he probably knows the affair was happening. Knights are silent but that doesn’t mean they don’t listen. And surely he would have heard about their love story and how a random woman comes in and marries the King, turning a perfect love story into an affair.

You turn before he can say anything else. A stone finds its way into your throat and a silent cry almost makes its way out of you. Your steps quicken, hoping that some distance will prevent Matthew from seeing the growing frown on your face.

The castle, for the most part, looks like every other part of the castle. The halls are long and winding. It was made of old stone, smelled heavily of petrichor, and decorated with arts from several centuries. Busts of kings and queens past are set periodically throughout the hallways. Most of the rooms you managed to peek into are empty, with white cloths covering the outline of beds and tables.

You do manage to find something interesting but it is locked behind a set of heavy doors. Even with Matthew behind you, you know it best to not ask him to cut the door open so you may look behind what those huge barriers were hiding. You gave up as soon as one sharp tug did nothing to the locked secret.

You continue exploring, eventually finding yourself outside. You walk along the colonnade, the castle’s arching design taking over the columns throughout the roofed walkway. Occasionally you could smell the hanging wisterias when the wind blew past.

“Wow,” You sigh with admiration. You peer over the railing, hand supporting yourself, at the grand garden the castle had hiding behind its hedges and walls.

The garden was filled with even more statues, fountains, and flowers that created a beautiful mosaic of nature and all of its inhabitants. You can see the various species of butterflies and bees that flew around pollinating the flowers in late spring.

A moving, round orange thing catches your attention as it moves meticulously through the garden. As if sensing your attention, it turns and stares at you. Your eyes widen even further as you realize that it was a sentient pumpkin man. Smoke puffs out of his eyes and mouth as he takes another long drag from his pipe cigarette. His gloves and overalls are covered in dirt, but he somehow manages to keep his white undershirt pristine. He grumbles before returning to his work, his wooden frame groaning as he lifts a particularly heavy ceramic jar to a new location.

Giggling interrupts your observation as a group of women come closer to you. Matthew moves to the side as you turn to face them. You give them a smile and they curtsy to you in return. Judging by their clothing, they were certainly noble, or ladies with titles.

You go to open your mouth, to greet them, or introduce yourself. Perhaps even to invite them to afternoon tea, but before you can they’re quick to leave, giggles continuing.

“I heard that King Morpheus didn’t even touch her last night, during their consummation,” One whispers, giggles littered between the words. She thought it was quiet enough, but the design of the colonnade let you hear every word she gossiped to her friend.

“Probably because the King still loves Lady Calliope,” The other chortles back. “Gosh, can you even imagine? Marrying a man who already has a mistress?”

“How dreadful indeed.”

Your words die in your mouth as you listen to what they say.

“It’s just gossip.” You try to reason without yourself. “Yeah, gossip based on true events. In which case, they’re just speaking the truth.”

Matthew only watches you as you try to regain your composure. He watches as you close your eyes and take in a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before letting go through your mouth. He’s done the same breathing exercise several times before tournaments. He doesn’t particularly find himself caring for palace gossip, to be quite honest he was too concerned with being the best knight he could to listen in.

He knew of Calliope, sure, but that was due to her extended stay as a diplomat from a neighboring kingdom. She was often seen in the hallways, or sharing court with the King on how to further the alliance between the two kingdoms. They were always amiable, but perhaps Matthew was too thick in the helmet to notice anything more.

“Matthew, how can I get down to the garden?” His queen’s voice brings him out of his own thoughts.

“Down the corridor, there is a set of stairs, my lady,” He answers with a nod in the right direction.

“Perfect, let’s make our way down then,” You smile at him and turn quickly. Tears prick at your eye line once again, but you’re determined to not let them fall. Never.

Just as Matthew pointed out, a layered staircase leads you straight into the royal gardens, just past the large fountain was a labyrinth of roses that you know you’ll explore some other time. You take your time hunting down the pumpkin head man, stopping by the garden fountain and playing with the little tetras that lived in the water.

You tuck a few strands of stray hair back into place using the water’s reflection before you decide to continue on your side quest. The pumpkin man finds you first before you could find him. Smoke still puffs out of his eyes and mouth and he raises a vine that acts as his eyebrow when he sees you.

“Ay, you look familiar, I feel like I should know you or something.” He gestures towards you with his pipe. He takes another long drag before recognition takes over his face. “Ah, you’re the new boss lady.” He claps his gloved hands together.

“That’s me.” You smile. “Are you a gardener?”

Matthew taps you on your shoulder before leaning close to your ear. “Can I also call you boss lady?” He whispers, hiding his words with a hand from the pumpkin head’s view.

“On special occasions,” You jest quickly before returning your attention to the squash.

“Put some respect to my name, why don’t you. Sorry, I’ve got a mouth on me. Probably why the big boss puts me away from people.” He grumbles and turns away.

You go to follow him as he continues to move a large bag of soil over his shoulders.

“Oh, this job is going to kill me,” He groans under the weight of the soil. “I need new branches, these are getting too brittle for me.” He explains to you behind him.

He takes you to a new part of the garden where everything was quite bare except for a lone tree and a small pond. It was a beautiful little get away once he placed new flowers and other decors.

“By the way, I’m Mervyn, no titles, just Mervyn Pumpkinhead,” He answers your previous question. “Yes, I’m a gardener, and janitor, and fixer upper, whatever.” He huffs another puff from his pipe.

He looks at you up and down, your soft smile was that similar to the sun now that he really looks at you. Also your youth surely gave you some more muscle than him.

“Ehh, now that I’m looking at cha… why don’t you plant the flowers in this area then. I’ll give you full control, I have other things to do today.”

He hands you a small shovel and points to a stack of nursery plants off to the side. You open your palm and the dirt covered tool falls into your hands. You’ve never gardened before, but you think you can manage. Mervyn is off before you could protest, anyway.

You grab a few potted nursery plants and ask Matthew to grab the rest before you start digging holes and planting them. It takes time and a little bit of effort, but soon enough you’ve planted the pieces where you think they would bloom nicely. You dust off the caked on dirt on the front of your dress with a satisfied sigh.

A small tickling sensation makes you see a small caterpillar crawling on your forearm, bringing it to your eye level to admire the small creature. You turn to Matthew to show him the cute little thing, but his gloved hand comes closer, snatching the small bug from your body. Before you could say much, Matthew unhinges the mouthpiece of his helmet and throws the poor caterpillar into the void.

“Matthew!” You exclaim, shock ripples through you in fits of laughter. You are in total disbelief; your eyes and ears can’t process what you’ve just witnessed as Matthew continues to chew on the bug.

“Hmmm, takes like chicken,” He comments before bringing his hand over his beak and hinging it back into place.

You’re still gawking at him, your hand goes to cover your mouth, muffling your next words. “You… just ate a bug!”

“Oh, shit,” Matthew swears as he returns to his perfect three pace away stance. His posture returns stick straight and you’re about to ask him what changed his behavior when someone calls out your name.

“Y/N?” A new voice joins your conversation and you turn around, ignoring the satisfied hum that came from Matthew as he swallows his little afternoon snack.

“Morpheus,” You breathe out, disbelief has yet to leave you.

This time around, the king is accompanied by two other figures. One, dressed almost identical to Matthew, the only difference is the white crest that bore the King’s symbol proudly in the middle of her chestplate. The other wore typical court clothing, a large book was resting between her arms and hip, her glasses gleaming in the outdoor sun. Silence follows the curt greeting that was cut by a forced cough.

“Greetings to you, Your Majesty. I am the royal court advisor, Lucienne.” The one in glasses introduces herself and gives you a warm smile that you returned.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lucienne.”

“And this is Captain Jessamy of the royal guard,” Lucienne continues. You give a smile to Jessamy who returns it with the same salute that Matthew did this morning. The white crest on his chest plate shines brightly in the sun and you can tell, even without seeing her face, that she bares the symbol proudly.

In contrast to the two women, Morpheus looked like he would rather be anywhere than here, making conversation with you. His face shared the similar frown on his lips that your father shared when he was having a difficult day.

“Has your day been well, my lord?” You ask, taking the risk of his potential wrath. Matthew is good company, but you fear it’s not the company you seek.

Agnes and your maids are there for you, but they could never quite understand what you go through, would they? Mervyn was nice, a nice breath of fresh air (or smoke in his case). He talked to you as if you were just as equal as any other, but there was still a distance that he put you at.

Everyone held you at an arm’s distance.

Even now as you look at your husband, the very definition of pristine, proper, and passive, he too stood further away from you than would have been deemed necessary.

“No,” He replies dryly.

You wait a moment, thinking that he would go into elaborate detail as to why. But, those few seconds pass and the two of you, nor your company, have moved an inch. You’re all too aware of how you look now, hair fussed, hands and dress covered in dirt. It’s the exact opposite of Morpheus.

“What His Majesty means to say, is that there was a rather difficult court meeting we had to attend to this morning. It did not go as planned.” Lucienne interjects when the silence becomes too much, even for her. She enjoyed silence, don’t get her wrong, but this was just painful to witness.

“Oh,” You frowned at the newly presented information. “Would you like me to join you next time? I believe two heads would be better-”

“No,” Morpheus interrupts you with a raised hand.

Your mouth shuts slowly and you think your heart cracks a little more in your chest. To not love you is one thing, understandable even if you gave it enough time. But, to not even let you into his court, to help him rule his kingdom as his equal. It’s like the words he spoke from your wedding night meant nothing to him now. You were nothing but a common bird trapped in a golden cage.

Morpheus’ notices, it’s hard not to when you so clearly express your emotions on your face. The thought of an apology crosses his mind for interrupting you, but it quickly gets buried by other thoughts of his kingdom. There was the tension of his sibling’s kingdom, wanting to wage a useless war against his Dreaming. His other missing brother, his sister who decided royal life was not for her and decided to travel the world. In all truth, his family was just as messy as the politics he spoke of that morning. The burden is not his to share, it’s not yours to carry either in his mind.

“Well,” You clear your throat, your fingers unknowingly playing with the strands of your matching bracelets. “Is there anything I can do here?”

“Do whatever you want, Y/N,” He answers honestly. With a look behind you and the general state of your appearance he speaks again. “It seems as if you have already found gardening.”

He walks away without another word. Lucienne and Jessamy follow without a word either, and you stare at his receding figure until you’re unsure if it’s his black robe you're looking at or merely a far away tree.

Anger rises inside of you and you snap the bracelet against your skin to prevent it from bubbling to the surface. At the corner of your eyes, you can see the same girls you met earlier, peering at you over the railing of the colonnade. No doubt gathering more gossip to spread to their friends.

“I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that bug.” Matthew’s comment brings you out of your own self-loathing.

You smooth a finger across your wrist that has long since turned red and face your attention to your knight.

“Captain Jessamy is so cool. Did you see that white crest on her chest? Gosh, what I would give to get one of those. But, nooo, she’s just so perfect of course she would be the only one so far to have that. God! Why did I eat that bug!” Matthew’s admiration turns to jealousy like the flick of a flame. He sighs again and the air pushes out of his helmet. Caaaaa….

“I don’t think she noticed you eating it,” You reply in earnest with the slight raise of your shoulders.

“You think?”

“I wouldn’t dwell too long on it.”

I fear our lovers are going to have a shit time next chapter. Hope you like even more angst :)

♡ Yours, Layla

Tags: @dnarez @arunawayheart

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #lord morpheus #destined dreams of love

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strangestofthings12 · 2 days

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This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say

Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.

With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.

This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.

I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.

I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater

Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip

#911 #buddie #anti bucktommy #i guess??#i dont know #i dont know what to tag this and just hope i dont upset anyone #anti tommy kinard #again i guess #but not really??#let me know if i need to add any tags:)

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 day

Note

What do you think of Bea and Eug looks at W&K wedding? I know some say they chose ugly hats because they were jealous. But I think they went over the top because it was the most important wedding of the century yet, so they thought they had to bring some extravagance. Also looking back, their outfits actually matched the time and they also were not the biggest fashion girlies.

They did the best they could. (For the record, I’m their age - 1989 baby here.)

The late 2000s/early 2010s were a terrible time for young women in their teens and twenties, both in terms of how freely and viciously one’s weight was discussed (and the more not-a-size-zero you were, the meaner it was) and how terrible the fashion trends/options were for us back then.

It wasn’t until Kate began polishing her image with coatdresses, color blocking, and expertly-tailored looks after the wedding that quote-unquote millennial fashion began to transform from “corporate wear you can also go clubbing in” to giving us separate options for separate occasions.

Bea and Eugenie did the best they could with a shit stick of trends and a hyper-critical fashion press that didn’t like anyone who wasn’t waif-thin or who dared to express their individuality. But all the credit goes to them for having learned from their mistakes and figuring out the looks and styles that work best for their bodies.

And even more credit goes to Beatrice, who auctioned her infamous hat for charity.

#ask #brf #yorkies

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leilani-lily · 22 hours

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 9)

A thousand apologies my dearest does and bucks ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

This took much longer than anticipated; I hit a bit of a wall, and time escaped from me. But we're here! We trekkin' on! The story continues \( ᐖ)/

.... And we're actually splitting this into 3 rather than 2 because over 6k later and we're still not done yet so ahaha! Whoopsies~ (´∀｀);

｡°⚠︎°｡ Final note. This is a WARNING that this chapter includes mention of VIOLENCE, GORE, and SEXUAL ASSAULT so please read with caution if this is a trigger for you!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Thank you all for your love and support, honestly ꨄ I've been feeling down lately and re-reading comments has really helped to boost my spirits and push me to keep going! I love y'all dearly ( •̯́ v •̯̀)♡

OK! Without further ado~ SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You venture off on your own to grab Alastor's gift, unaware of the dangers to follow... Word Count: 6.2k Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your feet pounded on the pavement below you and you jogged towards the coffee stall. Your eyes were sharp and alert and your grip on Alastor’s microphone tight. You knew you had to be quick and extra careful now being on your own. But surprisingly enough, you weren’t afraid. Your blood was pumping with adrenaline, and with Alastor’s staff, you felt more powerful than you ever had in your entire life. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

Dodging in between sinners and recognizing landmarks, you were able to find the vendor in question without any problems. You breathed a sigh of relief, coming to a stop in front of the display table and taking a moment to catch your breath. A large, older imp with a white goatee raised an eyebrow at you questioningly from behind the counter. Finally, you stand up straight and give him a quick smile before your eyes flickered over everything he had to offer.

As much as you enjoyed some of the quirky mugs on display, you knew in your heart what you really wanted. The problem is, you only knew the bare basics about coffee; you had no idea what made a good machine or not. You glanced around at all of the modern tech and felt your shoulders sag. Alastor would hate all of these; you needed something from his time; something more classical.

“Somethin’ ya looking fer in pa’ticular dollface?”

You lifted your head to the imp across from you. He was leaning against the table with his other hand on his hip, his eyes tired and dull. You gave him a sheepish grin, clearing your throat quickly.

“Ah, yes please…” you start, “This might sound weird. I’m looking for something from the 30’s that helps to brew coffee.” a thought crossed your mind, and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat, “I… uh. Actually. I don’t even know what they used back then… A kettle? Or some sort of special press…?” Your eyes drifted down awkwardly. Satan’s Ass, you have no idea what the Hell you’re looking for. This guy’s gonna think you’re an idiot.

To your relief the imp said nothing, but you could tell he was judging you hard. He looked you up and down before simply shrugging off the table and turning on the spot. He began to shuffle through the shelving unit behind him, tea kettles and mugs clattering as he searched. The imp spoke to you over his shoulder.

“Ehhh, I don’ know girlie. I know I had somethin’ a while ago, but might’ve been snatched already.” he shuffled some more, “Antiques like dat are hard ta find, n’ when ya do, dey sell pretty quickly. Humans n’ nostalgia n’ all ‘at.”

You could feel your fingers fidgeting nervously; you really hoped you didn’t just risk your safety for nothing. The excitement from earlier was beginning to fizzle out with the thought of not being successful. Maybe you could get him a nice mug instead? Or maybe one of those cute, little stirring spoons…

“Well I’ll be blessed th’n damned again…”

You looked up to the seller to see him turn around, a crooked smile on his face as he held what looked like two glass pots connected like an hour-glass. Your eyes widened in amazement at the strange looking contraption.

“Called a ‘Silex Vacuum Siphon’. D’know what year it’s from, but ya ain't gonna find something more vintage den dis, I can guarantee.”

You tucked Alastor’s mike under your arm as you carefully took the glass contraption in your hands. It was definitely used, and could use a good cleaning. But there were no cracks or chips to be seen, no major damage that could affect its ability to brew. Given it was nearly a century old, it was in fairly good condition.

“It’s perfect.” you breathed, thumb grazing over the glass tenderly as your heart pittered excitedly. Alastor would absolutely love this, you just knew it. You had to get it for him, it was like it was destiny. Your head whipped up to the seller.

“How much?”

Said imp looked you up and down for a moment before his eyes landed near your arm. A sly smile crept up his mouth as his pupils flicked back up to your face.

“How ‘bout that fancy lookin’ cane o’ yours?”

Immediately you placed the siphon back down and clutched the microphone close to your chest, shooting daggers at the creature in front of you. “Absolutely not.”

To your relief, the imp just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. Was woith a shot.” he chuckled, helping your tense shoulders to slowly relax. His eyes darted between you and the siphon, clearly deep in thought before crossing his arms.

“400”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. For fuck sakes, you figured it would be expensive, but this was highway robbery. And you knew very well that he knew that too; he was totally upping the price knowing how desperate you are. And as much as you needed it, you didn’t have enough on you. A thought crossed your mind, something you had observed when you explored the market. With as much confidence as you could muster, you laid your hands flat on the table and leaned in, giving him a very serious look.

“200”

The imp’s smile creaked up to his ears. “375”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and breaking the facade. It was working. Thank God, he seemed like the type who enjoyed a little haggling. If you could just get him down a little more, maybe you could actually pull this off.

“250”

“350”

“300” You finally declare, before quickly adding, “And! you wrap it up nicely for me.” you stare him down, leaning back up and crossing your arms in front of you. “That’s my final offer.”

The background noise of the market droned on as you both glared at each other across the booth. Eventually, the imp’s lips curled up devilishly before giving a sigh and shaking his head.

“Ya drive a hard bargain toots. Deal.” He cocked an eyebrow and reached a clawed hand out. You shook his hand coolly, but it was so hard to contain the excitement bouncing around in your chest. There was something exhilarating about negotiating prices; you could see why some demons got such a high off of coming to markets like these. Of course, this purchase was still going to drain you of all your cash, but it was well worth it.

While he got to work bubble wrapping the siphon, you basically dumped your purse out and gave him every cent you had. He made sure to cushion the glass carefully and even found an empty box to place it in for double security. You honestly didn’t know how this interaction would've gone; you were initially worried he would’ve robbed you blind or threatened you. But as he handed you the bag with the goods and gave a final nod, you were beyond relieved to find that he actually seemed to be a decent guy. Maybe this market wasn’t completely full of thieves and swindlers like you had thought.

You were practically skipping down the alley, one hand tight around Alastor’s microphone and the other holding your precious gift (but careful not to swing it around too much). You couldn’t wait to give this to him. You could feel your whole body tingling with anticipation. You really hoped that it did make a good cup of coffee; it would be a shame if it didn’t. Even so, it was such a funky looking thing, at the very least it could make for a cool decoration and hopefully bring back fond memories… You wondered how much of a difference there was between drinking coffee from a coffee machine or a siphon. You’d have to brew a pot with him tomorrow morning and-!

Your daydreaming was instantly snatched away as you were quickly dragged into the darkness of the ally beside you.

You went to scream but a large paw had clamped around your mouth before you could utter a sound. The bag slipped from your grasp and fell to the ground with a clatter, but thankfully you kept your grip on the staff tight. You immediately went to swing your arms, but both your wrists were grabbed, looking like mere toothpicks in the claws of the Hell Hounds that pulled you in. You kicked your feet up in protest as your yells were muffled, but you were no match for the sheer strength these creatures had as they dragged you further into the darkness and away from the crowds. They hauled you backwards until you felt your heels no longer dragged, indicating you had stopped, but you were barely aware of your surroundings. You continue to thrash your shoulders around and kick your feet up, desperately trying to escape like a caged wild animal.

“Now now, there’s no reason to cause such a ruckus.”

Your eyes flash open and whip to the deep voice ahead of you. Your eyes fall onto a large silhouette leaning against the wall to your right, the brightness of the market ahead of you shading your captor’s full appearance. But as he pushed off and stepped closer, your eyes adjusted and were finally able to take in the finer details. Dripped in a rugged leather jacket and ripped jeans, the wolf looking Hell Hound sauntered towards you. His grin was fierce, and neon-yellow eyes practically glowed in the darkness. You could feel your mouth go dry and your legs turn to jelly.

Your initial frenzied shock subsiding, you took a moment to look up at your two captors holding you back, One seemed to be a tall, muscular Mastiff with a slobbery snarl, his paws holding your right wrist and shoulder. The other was a Doberman type with cropped ears and sharp eyes, gripping tightly to your mouth and other wrist. You mumble out a pathetic plea and shimmy your shoulders again, trying to get their attention and hope that they take pity, but they pay you no mind, focusing instead on their alpha.

“Don’t even bother chickie,” the silver dog snarked, making you turn your attention back to him, “We Hounds are very loyal to our pack; they’ll only listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed into angry slits, shooting daggers at the alpha. He merely snickered in reply.

“You’re probably wondering who we are,” he mused, putting his hands behind his back and calmly pacing in front of you. “Wondering what we want, why you’re here, ‘yadda yadda ya…” the dog babbled, making a yapping motion with his claws. He turned to you and gave you a cocky grin. “You should know that we don’t usually do this kind of thing… we’re actually nice guys once you get to know us!”

The two dogs behind you chuckle darkly, not at all making you feel reassured.

“We’re nothing but humble thieves,” the wolf continued, sauntering back over to you, “Steal enough to make a humble living. Only take what we need. Provide for the pack. Today was supposed to be like any other…”

The alpha’s yellow eyes suddenly grew dull, his smug smile slowly falling to a sneer as he stopped in front of you. The look on his face made a nervous shudder crawl down your spine.

“... Until that ugly ass, bob-cut bastard stepped in.”

Bob-cut…? What in the Hell is he-

“Tyrion was so sneaky about it too, I was sure the wallet was as good as ours.” the wolf continued, his voice a mix of sorrow and venom. “But then that red-clad fucker saw him and…” you noticed his paws clench into tight fists, his eyes narrowing angrily.

Red-clad… Oh god… could he mean?

“I saw it with my own eyes. That mad-man butchered him like a pig. Didn’t even give him a chance to apologize or make amends.” His nose was scrunched up in rage before it softened, his eyes holding the tiniest bit of horror, “But I think what was the most haunting was the way that creep smiled the entire time. Almost as if he was enjoying it.”

… God fucking damnit Alastor.

“You seemed like such an easy target too.” the alpha’s neon eyes flicked up to you. “We didn’t realize what kind of monster you had on a leash.”

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you recalled that wild look in Alastor's eyes earlier, the way his smile seemed sharper... Damnit, you felt so stupid now. How did you not notice? Dear God, how many others had died today by Alastor’s hands? It was clear that this ‘Tyrian’ was trying to steal from you, but did that really warrant death? You felt a twinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

“So when my boy’s noticed you gallivanting on your own, I couldn’t believe our luck.” the wolf chuckled, leaning in closer until you were face to face, “You seriously made our job so much easier.”

Your cast-down gaze immediately scrunched into one of distrust, feeling your body become on-edge as you focused back on your captor. The wolf smirked at your helplessness, eyeing you up and down before his gaze fell to your left hand. His eyebrows shot up in interest.

“And look at this!” He taunted, leaning back up and reaching for Alastor’s staff, “You even brought us an apology gift! What a nice little girl~”

Your eyes widened in horror, trying to jerk your hand away from the wolf’s grasp. But the Doberman held your wrist tight, making it near impossible for you to do anything as the alpha grabbed hold of the microphone and ripped it from your grasp. You let out a whimper of despair as it left your hand, to which the silver dog’s ears perked, and turned to give you a hungry look.

“Hmmm, what a pretty sound. Almost makes me want to hear it again~”

You could feel your blood boiling at his words, and in a fit of rage, you kick your feet up aggressively. To your dismay, the leader jumped out of the way in time, a joyous laugh escaping his muzzle as he hopped to the side. The two dogs holding you immediately tightened their grip on you, pulling you back and holding you more securely. You huffed through your nose like an angry bull, shooting the wolf a venomous glare as he howled and dusted off his jacket.

“Wooh! And feisty too. Gotta admit, that just turns me on more~” he grinned, showcasing his sharp fangs and blackened gums. His pupils flicked between his friends, “Do me a favor boys, secure those legs of hers so she doesn’t do that again.”

Almost immediately, the two henchmen each step on your feet with their large paws, pinning your feet underneath theirs. You try to lift your legs up and away to test your mobility, but sure enough, your feet were locked in place. Panic started to settle now realizing just how much trouble you were in, and instinctively, you jut your shoulders out aggressively to try and once again escape. The wolf snickered at your struggles, slowly moving closer to you.

“Now originally, we were just going to kill you and leave it at that.” the alpha hummed, eyes slowly grazing your body, “But hey, why stop there? Why waste a perfectly good meal without getting the chance to have a bite~”

Faster than lightning, his free paw came up and slashed at your chest, making you cry out in pure agony underneath the Doberman's paw. White specs blotted your sight as your mind froze in shock. You didn’t have to look to know; you could feel what he had done. Your body felt both cold and hot, from where your dress was torn and your body exposed to the air, and from where you could feel your blood begin to soak into what remained of your dress. You tried so hard to not make too many noises after the wolf's disgusting words, but the way your skin was burning, it was hard not to. Your eyes were beginning to water as you focused your attention back on the leader. Guilt be damned, you didn’t feel a thing for these bastards anymore. You wanted to make them hurt the way they hurt you.

Outrage helped you find the strength to thrash around again, desperately trying to free your limbs so you could land a punch, a kick, anything. The Hell Hound took a step back to avoid your violent thrashing, chuckling at your display and licking his lips.

“Calm down now Sheila, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It will be over before you know it…” He began his advance again, and you could feel your skin begin to prickle with panic. You continue your thrashing, lifting your legs and pulling at your arms, hoping that something would give way before it was too late.

And by the grace of God above, you felt your left shoe loosen under the paw of the Doberman.

An opportunity.

You spring into action, giving your left knee one final thrust upwards, making your foot pop out of your shoe and free from its confinement. Without even thinking, you slam it down hard into the Doberman’s bottom foot, making sure to dig your heel in deep. The skinny dog howled in agony, his grip on your arm and mouth loosened, giving you the chance you needed to act. As he bends over to grab at his tender paw, you bring your left arm across your chest and swiftly ram your elbow right into his muzzle. The force, along with his now injured foot, is enough to send him toppling over and slamming onto the ground, clutching his now bloodied nose.

Not wasting a precious second, you take the momentum from your left elbow and swing it over to your right, turning your body and socking the Mastif right in the face. He too yelps in pain, letting go of your right arm and freeing your other foot. As he steps back, distracted by the punch you landed, you grab him by the shoulders and lunge your left knee square into his groin. The Hell Hound let out a pathetic squeak as he immediately crumpled to the ground, curling into fetal position as he cradled his tenders.

Two down. One to go.

“Oh you BITCH!”

Right as you turn to face the wolf, his arm was already raised and ready to strike, swiftly bringing it down and backhanding your cheek. You cry out in pain, the sheer strength knocking you off your feet and making you fall harshly on your backside, cracking your head on the pavement. Your bun had come undone, your hair curtaining your glassy gaze as you watched the alpha throw the microphone to the side and stomp towards you. Too dazed by the blow, you felt him come down on you and straddle your hips, bringing his paws down over your throat.

“You think you’re tough shit girlie?” he snarled, his grip on your neck tightening, “Let’s see how tough you are once you beg for mercy.”

You gasped for air desperately, your hands clawing at his paws and legs kicking out behind him. Your heart was racing anxiously, eyes darting all around you to see if there was anything around that could help you. A shimmer of light catches your eye, and you're just able to turn your head ever so slightly to your right. Your silver hair pin glistened in the light beside you, like a gift from God himself.

You turn your attention back to the wolf, not wanting to reveal your plan to him. You could feel your vision begin to spot from lack of oxygen, but you stretch out your right arm, desperately trying to reach the pin without making it obvious. You felt the cool metal suddenly come in contact with your fingertips, rolling it closer to you into it finally was tight in your fist. With as much strength as you could muster, you swing your arm up and over, stabbing your assaulter right where his shoulders met his neck.

The wolf immediately howled in pain, rolling to his side and off you to grasp at the makeshift weapon lodged in his neck. You gasped for breath, feeling your blurry vision slowly speckle back as you choked in air. Exhaustion was taking over at this point; your head felt heavy from all the blows, and you could feel your body becoming numb from the blood-loss. Your eyes lazily scanned the area until they locked on Alastor’s mike, and you knew this would be your last chance if you wanted to survive this.

You force your weak body to move, crawling on the ground as quick as you could towards the staff, scratching your arms and stomach as you went. You whimpered in agony, wishing to just give up and let sleep take over. But Alastor was waiting for you. Your friends back at the hotel were waiting. You couldn’t give up, not after coming this far.

Finally, you manage to stretch out and grab the mike, pulling it close to your mouth and taking a big breath.

“ALAS-!”

A fuzzy hand gripped your ankle and yanked you whole body away, making you cry out in fear as your plea was cut off. Your body scrapped painfully on the ground, dirt and tiny rocks grating against your open wounds. You whip your body around, cane still tight in hand and flinging it over to strike your opponent. But the wolf caught it skillfully in his paw, his pupils constricted and baring his fangs, the fur on his neck now sticky and tainted red.

“Enough of this shit.”

The hound threw the staff out of your grasp and to the side, straddling you once again, but this time pinning both your arms over your head with one arm and leaning over you dangerously. You sobbed out in agony, your mind desperately telling your body to fight, but too exhausted to react. The alpha sneered down at you, panting and eyes wild with fury.

“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in killing.” he growled, his hot breath hitting your face and making you whine out in dread. “But now…” The dog began to raise his free arm high in the air, his claws extracting with a sharp sound.

“I’m gonna enjoy watching you bleed out.”

A sob escaped your throat, tears streaming down your face in thick streams. This was it. This was going to be how you died. You had never actually died in Hell yet, and a part of you was scared. How long until you came back to life? Would you remember any of this… Fuck, would you remember anything at all? You couldn’t imagine a life outside of the hotel, not now. Not without the friends you've made. Certainly not without Alastor. The thought was unbearable.

His arm came down swiftly, and you cried out in terror, shutting your eyes tight and turning your head, trying to block out the nightmare in front of you. You heard a slash of skin being torn and felt your whole body tense at the sound. You waited for the searing pain, for the blood to gush out from you until you became numb.

But oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything.

You dared to peek up at the wolf on top of you, a peculiar look on his face as he was frozen in mid swing. His eyelid twitched, mouth partially open before his top half suddenly began to … slide?

“Funny you should say that, I was thinking ₮ⱧɆ ɆӾ₳₵₮ ₴₳₥Ɇ ₮Ⱨł₦₲.”

Before you could comprehend where the voice came from, the wolf's upper body slid clean off his waist, toppling to the side and beside you on the ground. You slowly sat up, unable to speak as blood began to pool around you, both from his severed chest and his hips and legs. A large black tentacle came up from behind you and grabbed onto one of the wolf's ankles, picking up the severed lower section and flinging it off of your body. You blink in recognition, feeling your initial shock subside and your chest tighten with hope. You turned around towards your saviour, but had to hold in your gasp at the creature behind you.

Microphone once again tight in his grasp, this demon was as tall as the buildings surrounding you; body barely able to fit between the narrow alleyway as he bent over you. Horns tripled in size and much more resembled deer antlers, black tentacles splayed from his back and writhing around, huge hands and talons sharp, eyes black as night and scarlet pupils in the shape of dials, and a red ‘x’ on his forehead burning brightly.

You had never seen Alastor in this state; in his true demonic form. You almost didn’t believe it was him. But his characteristic smile was ever present, your skin feeling that familiar buzz of electricity from his sound waves. You knew just how powerful he was, but to witness him at his full potential, it truly was a sight to behold.

The giant form was watching you this whole time, dials flickering over your tiny body below him. From your face, to your torn chest and dress, to your bloodied legs, and back up to you. You felt a chill crawl down your spine as you locked eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Any other person would have been terrified looking up at such a creature, but oddly enough, you felt the safest you had ever been. Though you could feel the outrage that was emanating from his very body, you could sense the recognition in his eyes, the kindness deep within those haunting eyes.

The clatter of a loose can snapped you both out of your gaze, Alastor whipping his giant head up and forward, once again sharp and on alert. You heard a whimper of fright and manage to notice the Mastiff tumble out from the shadows and begin to run, yelling like a child and scrambling to get as far away as possible. There was a sudden buzz in the air, the Radio Demon’s smile curling up on his face and drooling blood. A chilling laugh escaped his throat, his jaw practically unhinging like a snake.

“Well that was not a wise decision on your part…” Alastor growled, his voice deeper and booming as the sound practically shook the ground beneath you. His large body began to move forward, crawling like an animal and the screeching of static ringing out in the air.

“Don’t you know a hunter ⱤɆⱠł₴ⱧɆ₴ ł₦ ₳ ₲ØØĐ ₵Ⱨ₳₴Ɇ??”

The Overlord pounds forward, surprisingly fast for his size as the Hell Hound screeches in horror, sprinting further into the darkness of the alleyway ahead. You sat in the pool of the alpha’s blood, still stunned at the events of this afternoon and unable to do anything other than sit and stare. You numbly look over to the severed wolf beside you, his eyes already glossy and deprived of any life.

One.

You look back up to the large lanky demon stomping forward, laughing maniacally as whimpered screams of the Mastiff could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.

Two.

You blinked for a moment, your brain slow to process, but eventually catching up to the current events and what seemed wrong about this picture.

Fuck.

Where was the Doberman.

You heard some shuffling from behind a dumpster and whip your head over, your previous question instantly being answered. The skinny dog limped forward, eyes locked on Alastor and unaware of you watching him. He limped forward, his right paw still sore from you stomping on it. But his arm was tucked into his jacket suspiciously, and you felt your eyes narrow dubiously. A soft click snapped from inside the cloth, and the Doberman pulled out what appeared to be a gun, pointing it right at Alastor’s back.

But there was something about this weapon that made you feel uneasy. The silver finishes that swirled around it, the way it practically radiated light in the darkness. There was something about this weapon that felt unnatural; like it didn’t belong in this world.

It seemed almost… Holy…

You felt your blood run cold.

It was all a blur. Rage and fear had taken full control of your body. Whatever exhaustion you had felt earlier was forgotten, whatever aches and pains slowing you down were no longer a hindrance. Completely fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, you scramble forward, bending over and grabbing your hair pin splayed on the ground. You sprint at a speed in which you never had before, screeching out Alastor’s name in warning before leaping onto the hound from behind.

The Doberman shouted in protest, raising his arms in defense and misfiring. The sound ricocheted off the walls, causing the Radio Demon to whip his head around, mouth half full of the Mastiff to a sight truly unbeheld.

Your legs tight around the Dobermans waist, your one hand gripped at his head while the other continuously stabbed him in the neck. The dog clawed away at your arms desperately, howling out in pain as blood began to gush from his throat. But his screams were nothing compared to yours. Like a wild animal, you shrieked in fury, holding him tight and eyes feral as you punctured his neck again and again. The Doberman’s eyes eventually rolled to the back of his head, falling to his knees and landing face first on the ground. But as you went down with him, you continued your assault, kneeling over him with both arms overhead and slamming the hair pin into his back again and again and again.

Alastor watched from afar, jaw hanging open and the Mastiff’s carcass falling out from between his razor teeth. Never had he imagined he would see a spectacle such as this, certainly not from the likes of you. Not the girl who sang jazz in the kitchen, laughed at his horrendous puns, and slept so peacefully in his presence. He was convinced you were an angel in disguise, too pure for this damned world.

And yet.

Here you were, stabbing and slashing and drenched in another's blood.

And he got to witness it.

Your furious screams started sputtering into sobs, and Alastor immediately snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately shifted into the shadows, slithering to you at lightning speed and emerging beside you, back to his regular appearance and hesitating a moment before gently placing both his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/n,” he spoke tenderly, “Y/n, darling. It’s ok. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

The sound of his voice made you whip your head up to him, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes were wide with horror making Alastor flinch, unsure how you were going to react. Immediately, you turn your upper body to him, grabbing onto his cheeks with bloodied hands and inspecting his face all over.

“Are you ok??” you sob, eyes panicked and looking all over his body, “you didn’t get hit, did you?? God please tell me you’re ok!”

Alastor blinked back his confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. “Of course I’m alright my dear, whatever do you-!”

A glimmer of light caught his eye, and his gaze was momentarily pulled away from your frantic face. Upon laying eyes over the peculiar weapon, he felt his eyes widen in recognition. There was no mistaking the silver swirls decorating the gun. He had heard rumours of such weapons, not yet having the pleasure of seeing anything of the like in real life.

He had heard the gunshot earlier, and was worried you were on the other end of the rifle which had triggered him to turn. But he hadn’t considered that the bullet was intended for him. Of course, a regular bullet wound was of no concern to him, he had survived much worse.

But a bullet from an angelic weapon?

As he formed the picture in his head, you calling out his name desperately and your sudden panic for his well being, it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

You didn’t kill out of self defense.

You had killed to protect him.

You had killed for him.

His mind was tumbling with this new wave of information and emotions, something that he didn’t often struggle with. But he felt your hands slip away from his face, causing him to focus back on you. Your head was bent down, hair draping over and covering your face, and soon your shoulders began to tremble. The distinct sound of you crying caused a jolt to shoot up Alastor’s spine, and immediately he lowered a hand under your chin to tilt your head up towards him. Sure enough, big salty tears were streaming down your face. But what caught him the most off guard was the weepy smile spread across your face.

“Thank God.” you wept, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “I-I was so worried… I couldn’t live with myself if…” your lip trembled as you burst into tears. Whether they were tears of relief or fear, he wasn’t sure, but one thing was for certain.

Alastor had never seen someone so shaken at the thought of him dying.

And that made him feel… something.

But he didn’t have time to delve into that. Not right now. He had to address this situation before he could dissect his thoughts. He knelt beside you, truly taking in your state of dress and being. Your dress was torn to shreds and blood-soaked, your chest bearing deep claw marks, the side of your head had dried blood spilling from your hairline, cheek swollen, scrapped stomach and legs, and bruises scattered all over your body.

Rage swelled up in his body. Furious at the hounds who did this to you. Bitter at you for thinking that going off on your own was a good idea. And most of all, outraged at himself for allowing this to have happened in the first place. And when that last thought trickled into his brain, he felt something else slither in his mind to replace that anger. An ancient feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time; ever since he was alive.

Guilt.

What a terrible emotion. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He never felt regret or sorrow for the actions he took since descending to Hell. Why would he when dealing with demons and creatures alike that he saw as mere obstacles in his way? But as he looked down at your crumpled form, his usual sunny sparrow clipped of her wings and trembling before him. Knowing that he had broken his promise of protecting you…

His eyebrows furrowed, ears falling flat on his head as his jaw clenched tightly.

Of course, you weren’t at all aware of the torment currently happening in Alastor’s mind. You were just so damn relieved he was ok, and that you were alive to tell the tale. Your choked sobs were slowly lessening, trying to focus on your breathing and just so freaking grateful to still have oxygen in your lungs. As you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you could feel your eyes growing tired, body slowly relaxing finally knowing the horror was over. The aches and pains were coming back to life, your chest especially burning painfully and your dress sticky with blood. Whatever adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was fastly subsiding, blood loss making your head heavy and limbs numb.

You didn’t even realize you were falling over until you felt long arms catch you, holding you up so you didn’t hit the ground. You could hear the familiar buzz of Alastor’s radio-like voice speaking to you, but your head was swimming, and your ears weren’t able to pick up what he was saying. You tried to look up at him, but your vision was so blurred, he was just a red fuzz in your eyes. You were so tired; you just wanted to sleep. And Alastor’s body was so warm and familiar, it was like a comforting blanket. You leaned in closer to his body, desperate for that feeling after such a harrowing event.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and a single thought emerged that made you panic a moment. The bag. The present. You can’t leave that damned thing behind. You reached out a hand and lazily padded at Alastor’s chest, mumbling out a string of words that you prayed made sense. The red blob tilted to the side, and you knew he was confused, but you couldn’t fully explain yourself. He was smart, you knew he would figure it out. And you knew he would take care of you; you were in safe hands now.

You could finally allow yourself to sleep.

Your vision was quickly dimming, darkness beginning to surround you until eventually your eyelids fell shut and you blacked out completely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#leilani-lily #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #oh deer

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