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stars-for-circe · 14 days

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Tongue Tied

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Tags / cw: EXTREMELY suggestive, oral fixation, fingers in mouth, tongue piercing, piercer!Ellie, choking, finger sucking, Ellie is kinda pervy?? WE USE CELSIUS GUYS. 19 CELSIUS!!!

The leather seat felt clammy below you, despite the gentle faux breeze coming from the air conditioning. Beside you, the small tray of sterile equipment, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

You shivered. Fuck, who sets the AC at 19 degrees? Wrapping your arms around yourself, you began to regret the choice of wearing a tank top despite the weather outside. Outside, where you’d much rather be - where there wasn’t a room colder than the arctic, or a bunch of needles about to be stuck in you, or a stupid fucking leather seat digging right in-

“Cold? I can turn it up, if you want.”

Ellie Williams. The most popular piercer in the area. Either from her looks or her talent, you couldn’t tell - but it was probably both. Arms crossed as she leaned against the door, and a small, amused smirk on her face as she watched your antics.

“Um, no, it’s fine.” You said shakily - or shyly, rather - smiling through your chattering teeth after you found where the voice came from. You spontaneity was probably enough of an inconvenience, booking an appointment late at night where it was the only time Ellie could fit you in - so it would have been rude to make her wait any longer than necessary to get the piercing done and lock up.

“I’m Ellie, by the way.” She called out, before making a beeline from the doorway to the small station at the end of the room, keeping her head down the entire time. You hummed in response, just barely suppressing the ‘I know’ on the tip of your tongue, as she rubbed some of the sanitiser in and put the gloves on. Then, Ellie paused her movements, back still turned away from you as she raised her head.

“Although….” You held your breath. You could feel the smirk on her faced despite not being able to see it.

“…I’m guessing you knew that already, Jesse told me some pretty girl wanted me ‘specifically’, to pierce her today…”

“What?” You stuttered out, mentally blaming it on the chill, and not your lack thereof. This time, Ellie snickered, shaking her head softly as she turned around heading towards you.

“So, you gonna stick your tongue out for me?” Grin still on her face, she watched as you sputtered out a reply while she haphazardly grabbed the forceps off the equipment tray.

“W-what?”

“You’re here for a tongue piercing, aren’t you?”

…That sly little shit

You could only nod, too taken aback to do much else. The most you expected here was to get a damn good piercing from a really hot girl, what Ellie was doing to you was not planned in your little outing.

“Yeah? So open up, hon. Gotta mark where you want it.”

Now Ellie knew that she didn’t need to mark anything - she was so used to doing this that she could just eyeball it and still be accurate. But, she thought, being able to cup your face, while you oh so obediently stuck your tongue out for her, as she just slipped her thumb ever so slightly into your mouth under the guise of keeping you still, would make up for the extra labour.

Your mouth was warm. Even through the black latex she wore. Ellie could almost imagine how soft it would feel sucking her dick, how delicate you’d be while kissing along the silicone. Fuck, she’d moan out loud if she wasn’t careful - all from the pad of her thumb resting on your tongue. And the way it twitched and made a swallowing motion as the bitter taste of the marker hit your throat really didn’t help.

“Hah…” You made a small noise at the prolonged moment. Surely the marker didn’t need this long to deposit a tiny dot pigment?

Ellie quickly snapped out of it, ripping her gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Right, she was still piercing you today, nothing else. And the taste of the marker probably wasn’t pleasant enough to be placed there for so long…

“Uh- so, ‘m gonna get the needle now.” She stuttered out, before making a joke.

“Last chance to back out…..or tell me if you’re squeamish….”

Fuck, the needle was kinda of big. Like, really big. Was it really meant to be that big? For a moment you hesitated, wanting to back out of this all and go home. But then you looked at Ellie, holding the forceps in once hand, reaching to grab the needle with the other, and you really wondered if backing out and embarrassing yourself in front of Ellie Williams - because of a fucking needle - was worth it. It would be over quick, right?

“Um, no- I mean-” you coughed.

“No, not squeamish, so, yeah, ‘m ready…”

“Yeah? Just uh, take a deep breath, ‘n stick your tongue out when you’re ready.”

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and stuck out your tongue - just like Ellie said. For a moment, you flinched, feeling the cold press of the forceps clamping on your tongue, before you concluded that keeping your eyes open would lessen the surprises. In front of you was Ellie, although a lot closer than before. And this time, with the needle in her hand, facing you.

She nodded, for approval. And you could only look at her with wide enough eyes that you hoped conveyed your consent, before she slowly, and gently, put the needle through.

Now, if Ellie hadn’t been on the clock, if there weren’t a couple people at the register or a possible camera somewhere in the room, Ellie would have fucked you. She would have shoved the damn piercing in and shove you flat on the seat and she would have fucked you so hard you’d be numb the day after. But Ellie couldn’t.

Fuck, she wanted to, but she couldn’t. Because no matter how fucking hot you were, or how cute you looked staring so trustingly up at her with your cute fucking eyes while she shoved a needle in your mouth, or how your small breathy whine of pain when it went through made Ellie soak herself-

“I uh- ‘m gonna put the piercing through now. It’s gonna feel a bit pinchy for a second.”

She didn’t know if you wanted her back.

You scrunched your eyes a little, as the piercing went through, but discomfort finally turned into relief as you could finally put your tongue back in your mouth. Then it went quiet for a bit, the both of you not really knowing what to do next. Which was weird, because wasn’t Ellie used to doing this?

“Can I um, take a look?”

She stared at you, for a moment, almost like she was in thought, before nodding and reaching for the mirror and handing it to you. You held it up and stuck your tongue out once again. And, to your happiness, it looked really fucking good.

There was a chance you got a little too happy, however, as you smiled openly and started to almost flick your tongue about, looking at it from every angle imaginable. And maybe if you paid less attention to your new modification, and more on Ellie, you’d notice her focused stare on you. Well, your tongue, more like.

You’d have noticed her furrowed brows, deep in thought, her own mouth slightly open at the sight, and her fists clenching and unclenching, too. But you didn’t.

What you did notice, though, was her ripping the mirror out of your hands. Like an epiphany came to her about your piercing. She threw it on the table, making a loud clanging noise, before cupping your face with her hands on each side. She stayed like that for a while, staring at your now closed mouth and so close that you could feel her breath fanning on your face. And it took about five seconds before Ellie’s eyes widened and she realised how fucking weird she was being.

“Uh- fuck-” she began, almost like she was breathless. Her eyes flitted around the room and she shifted on her feet, until she could figure out what to say.

“Your piercing.”

“My…..piercing?”

“It’s crooked. Might be the backing but uh- I need to fix it.”

You raised a brow. Wasn’t Ellie mean to be a really good piercer? Maybe it was the piercing itself or something, you thought, as you nodded closely and opened your mouth. Slowly, you felt her right hand trail from your cheek to your lips, thumb pulling slightly on the bottom one before slipping her index into your mouth.

Shit, Ellie missed it so much. Albeit, it had probably been three minutes since she last had her fingers in your mouth, but it felt so good. Like they belonged there. She wondered how long she could keep this up, before you noticed what she was doing. She was almost worried you’d find out and get mad at her. But then she felt your tongue swishing along her index, and then she slipped her middle finger in too. And then, Ellie stopped giving a fuck.

And you couldn’t help but rest your cheek on the lasting hand on the side of your face, almost nestling into it as subtly as possible. Part of you knew this was unprofessional, that there were better ways to go about a fucked up piercing. But another part of you couldn’t help but like what Ellie was doing. And you couldn’t help but suck.

Ellie choked out a moan. She covered it up though, by talking.

“You need to stop moving. Here, let me just-”

“Ellie-”

“Shhh, don’t move.” She spoke so tenderly, almost whispering to you as her thumb stroked your cheek. Maybe it was the soft dominance she was extruding, or maybe it was because of how desperately fucking wet you already were. Either way, you listened.

You sat pin straight, as you felt the hand cupping you cheek slip down your jaw, and find its place on your throat. And you stayed still, as you felt her hand close around it and squeeze on either side.

“Can you stay still now, baby?” God, that made you feel fuzzy. That and the now limited blood circulation coming to your brain. Fuck, you never realised choking felt this good.

Ellie watched you, as you slouched and drooped your eyes, as drool started to slip out of your mouth while you were still sucking on her fingers. How you whimpered as her hold on your throat tightened - how your thighs rubbed together as she did that.

And you watched Ellie, through your hazy, droopy eyes, as her breathy pants got deeper, as she leaned even closer to you as her grip tightened, and as her eyes searched yours for some sort of response to a question she didn’t ask - but you knew she wanted the answer to. You sucked even harder. You let your tongue run along the ridged and bumps the gloves made on her finger. You swallowed so hard that her hand on your throat moved along in tandem.

“Shit- you- ohmygod-” Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she whined. She was pleading you at this point.

And you nodded.

…Fuck it.

“You wanna fuck?” She mumbled breathily, taking a long, condescending glance at your body - the state of your body - and then another at the lock on the door. Running a hand through her hair, Ellie took a deep breath, before letting out a loose chuckle.

“God- s’is so fuckin stupid…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, scoffing at how eagerly, how desperately you looked at her. And this time, she answered her own question for you.

“…..Yeah, let’s fuck.”

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#tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams smut

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lovedazai · 10 months

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LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON THEM

ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, tecchou

p.s.! ⊹˚. this has been in my drafts forever & on my mind for even longer :< i just want to spoil all of them

DAZAI ー dazai is glowing under all of your attention. the rosy smudges cover his entire face; they peek from beneath his bangs, traveling across his cheekbones and bleeding over the edges of the bandages on his neck. he didn’t know how long it’d been since you first cupped his cheeks, a smile curling his lips when he saw the red painted on yours. getting showered in your kisses was like a dream, and he thinks that if he were to die right now, it’d be even more euphoric than he could’ve ever imagined. he buries his hand in your hair to cup the back of your head, urging you to continue. he shamelessly whines when you pull away, even if you’re still close enough for the tips of your noses to brush. “just one more?” you press your lips to his cheek, but his lithe finger curls under your chin to bring you back to his lips, darkening the pigmented smears on the corner of his mouth. he lets out a dreamy sigh as he looks at you, wiping the lipstick that escaped the outline of your lips with his thumb. “just one more?” he kisses you, mumbling the rest against your mouth. “for real this time?”

CHUUYA ー chuuya had given you his black card for the day, letting you buy whatever you desire with the promise of showing him everything when he got home that night. shopping bags and tissue paper dot the floor; the soft blue eyes that watched you flaunt your new clothes now linger on your lips as you apply your new lipstick. “i really like this color,” your phone camera works as a makeshift mirror, and you pop your lips, bright red spread evenly across them. “i got it because it reminded me of you.” you make yourself comfortable on his lap, placing your knees on each side of his thighs before you press your lips to his skin, warm from his blush. you start kissing along his cheekbone, leaving a trail of stains across his face until you press your lips to his. his bare thumb makes itself home against your jaw, and his ungloved fingers are warm from where they rest on your skin. when you pull away, chuuya’s grin is equal parts lovesick and prideful, and you smile at the marks you left behind. “this color looks so good on you.” he says, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “yeah? it looks good on you too.” you kiss the corner of his lips, watching in satisfaction at how it smudges his skin. he holds you firmly to his chest, hand sneaking beneath your shirt and settling on the dip of your lower back. “you got any more to swatch on me, pretty girl?”

RANPO ー the smile that formed when you first started kissing ranpo slowly drops as his lips quiver and his hands grip at your shirt, keeping you close to his chest. the stains left behind from your lips are camouflaged against the background of his flushed cheeks, pretty pink complimenting the green of his eyes. “so pretty,” you mumble. “did you know you’re the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen?” you think you hear him whimper at your words, and the little noises vibrate against your mouth. his lips are sweet from the konpeito he was eating when you first found him, and you make sure to linger on them every now and then. his grip on your shirt tightens when you pull away, smiling at the collection of lipstick marks across his face. “why’d you stop?” he pouts. “i’m out of space. i kissed you all over.” you tilt your head, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose. “except there.” his hand leaves your side to pull at his loosened tie, and you watch him unbutton the top of his shirt until his collarbones are visible. “there,” his hands settle against your waist once more, tugging you back to your rightful place pressed against him. “now keep going!”

FYODOR ー what starts as one kiss turns into two, then three; you couldn’t resist the urge to keep going when you saw how easy it was to paint his pale skin with your lipstick. you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind as he sits at his desk, grinning to yourself as you trace the marks across his cheekbones with your finger. “what are you smiling about?” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, a slight smile of his own growing. “nothing. you’re just handsome.” he hums, spinning his chair to face you. “does it have something to do with this, i wonder?” he has a knowing glint in his eye as he holds your jaw to trace his thumb along your mouth. you kiss his fingertip from its place on your lip, admiring the way the pigment stains his fingertips as best you can; it's a welcome contrast to the blood from his biting habit. he takes the opportunity to pull your face to his own, kissing your lips as his hands sneak to your waist. “if you insist on showering me with your sweet affection,” his lips curl upwards into a self indulgent grin as he pulls you onto his lap. “you should at least be comfortable while you’re doing it.”

NIKOLAI ー you carefully trace the shape of your lips, not noticing the man who teleports into your room; you hear him before you see him. “boo!” you jump, gaze drawn from your reflection to nikolai’s smiling face, peeking up from behind your shoulder. “kolya,” you sigh. “you almost ruined my lipstick.” he meets your pout with a giggle, squishing your cheeks in his hand. “lipstick, you say?” a gloved finger swipes across your lip, smearing the fresh coat you’d just put on. his visible eye sparkles as he looks down at the fabric, darkened with pigment. before you can realize it, he’s taken your spot at your vanity and pulled you into his lap. he taps his cheek in the form of a request, visible eye crinkled from how hard he smiles when your lips meet his skin. it only grows with each kiss you place, giggling when you brush his hair back to kiss along his jaw. when he looks over your shoulder and catches himself in the mirror, dotted with red stains, he can’t help but wish your marks were as permanent as his scar. he grabs your chin, turning your head so he can press his lips to yours. “i thought you wanted me to kiss you,” your nose brushes his, eyes falling to his tinted lips before he tilts your face upwards to meet his gaze. “don’t be so greedy,” he grins, twirling your lipstick tube between his fingers. “it’s my turn now.”

TECCHOU ー you were especially indulgent with your goodbye kisses today, and tecchou couldn’t find it in himself to mind. he leans into your touch as you tuck his hair away from his face, brushing your lips right beneath his marking. he lets you do as you please, content to stand there as your kisses tickle his skin and pleasantly turn his stomach. “can i have one here too?” he points to his lips, shivering when your hands curl behind his neck as you move to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing back up to his cheek. “i have to go soon,” his voice is as serious as ever, but his lips are pulled into the tiniest of pouts, hands still lingering against your hips. your lips are pressed against his chin when he sighs your name, finally making you look up at him. the red stains scattered across his face match his uniform; the thought of your boyfriend going about his day visibly stained by your affection makes you fill with butterflies, and you've never been so thankful for his obliviousness. you place his hat on his head, straightening the brim. “stay safe today, okay?” you whisper, pressing one last kiss to his lips. he nods, hand falling to the handle of his sword, but his stoic face isn’t nearly as intimidating with your lipstick smeared across it.

BSD MASTERLIST

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love-bitesx · 11 months

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okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie x you

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hwajin · 1 month

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☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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boxtea · 3 months

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🎀Imagine doing Sam’s makeup for him🎀

Sam Monroe x Reader ☕️

Not proofread

Fluff but sams a pervert

Sam only allowed you to do his makeup so you’d sit in his lap. He held onto you, his hands resting just above your butt as you held onto his chin. Your pretty pink makeup bag was sprawled out on his floor around you two.

“Sam you’re being difficult!” You huff as he moves his face away from your fluffy makeup brush. “How much shit are you gonna put on me..” he groaned out. He originally thought you were going to help him with his everyday messy eyeliner but to his disappointment you were covering him in glitter and pink pigments. “I just wanna make you look pretty!!” You say as you hit his chest.

You dotted foundation on his face. Your shade wasn’t exactly a match for him but it wasn’t terribly far off if you just didn’t use too much. Sam was very obviously staring at your tits, they jiggled just the tiniest bit as you blended out the product.

“Look up.” You command and he obliges, letting you dot concealer under his eyes. “This is so stupid.” He complained as you blended it out and tilted his head back down.

“Suck in your cheeks.” And he does, allowing you to put blush on his cheek bones with a big fluffy brush. Of course loving him enough to use your fancy Dior blush. “You look so cute!!” You squeal out as he rolls his eyes. You grab a cute frosty highlighter to put onto his cheeks and nose.

“Pink or blue?” You ask with a big grin on your face. “Blue.” He answers gruffly, wanting to get this over with. You use a lighter blue in his inner corner to highlight it and a darker blue on his outer corner, blending it under the eyes. You used a mid point between the two in the middle of the eyelid to blend them together.

“Alright alright we’re almost done.” You say as you reach for your mascara. “Open your eyes please.” You ask but as soon as you bring the wand close to his eyes he flinches. “Sam!!! Stay still!” You roughly grab his jaw, your manicured nails digging into his skin a bit. You wiggle the wand from the base of his lashes all the way to the tip, only applying two coats.

To apply his lip gloss you put it on yourself first, before giving him a fat kiss on the lips, successfully transferring it onto him. But to your dismay he leans in for more, shoving his tongue into your mouth and making out with you, smearing the lip gloss all over both your mouths.

“Sam you look so pretty!!” You giggle out as you pull away, dragging him to your mirror to show him. “I did such a good job!!” He again rolls his eyes and pats your head. “You did a very good job. Now get this off me.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x reader smut #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

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nicoliharu · 2 months

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Good morning! First time interacting with this blog. I was wondering of you have any Headcanons for Idia Shroud?? Like, if you draw him, do you have anything you always include in the design or leave out? By the way, LOVED seeing your Ruggie Bucchi design.

Hi dear! WELCOME! 🥺💗💗💗

I'm glad you liked my Ruggie Bucchi design, it was very simple but I don't have very elaborate headcanons, the same goes for Idia, I would just change the values a little, I think he's very vibrant/clear? I don't know how to express myself correctly about this in English.

⚠️ My headcanons Idia Shroud:

I don't know what it's like for everyone, but I wanted his pale skin to be a little darker to make the shine in his hair more evident. It's been 3 years since I drew Idia and I looked at my old drawings to understand what I liked to do when I was his stan… Yes, that was real 🤡

💀 Slightly ''pointy'' ears: I like this little distortion, I didn't make it obvious in the drawing, but it's not like Malleus and Lilia's ears for example, it would be extremely subtle. I know Hades is a God but let me imagine Idia's ears are slightly ''pointed''. 💀 Marked pigmented dark circles: Let's take into account that Idia hasn't been well since he was a child and I imagine how he must have problems with insomnia and hyperfocus without rest. Then I see him with obvious circles under his eyes from tiredness. 💀 Bitten nails: He has anxiety, I put my hand on his head during a bad game to confirm this, so one of his habits is biting his nails. 💀 Mouth/teeth: For me, his lips are also injured due to the habit of biting them during a crisis, stress, or discomfort. It's not a detail that is also in the drawing but I imagine like this. 💀 Hair: In the official art it would be straight with the movement of the flames? but since 2021 I noticed that I like to think his hair is flaming wavy. He doesn't take care of it properly, so loose, tied up, and tied however he likes it is fine. 💀 About the earring: This is personal for me but I don't think Idia cares about accessories to the point of piercing and wearing it but I like to think that Ortho gives him some clip-on accessories, earrings, piercings, and necklaces, he will use them if Ortho insist a lot. 💀 Body: Bad posture, I don’t need to explain why, right? It's not because he's intelligent, skilled, and rich that he'll remember to be straight enough 24 hours a day to not ruin his own spine. I bet your posture is also wrong, straighten up!

Forgive me for the grammar mistakes, I hope I managed to express myself correctly. My headcanons for Idia are simple and more behavioral, I personally really like his design and would change small things if I drew him very often. But who knows, maybe in the future I will change more? I guess that's the fun of headcanons 💗💗💗

Thank you very much for your ask dear, it's been a long time since I last drew Idia and I hope you liked it 💌💟❣️

#my headcanons for Idia Shroud #personal #twst idia #idia shroud #twst ignihyde #ignihyde #twst fanart #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #my art

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art-and-academica-antics · 11 months

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POV: you're an art conservator, checking through the microscope which part of the painting are original and which were added later

See how the craquelure (small cracks in the paint which is part of the natural aging process) have clean sharpe edges in the purpelish paint while the green paint is filling and piling up in those cracks? That's a pretty obvious indicator that the green paint was added many years after the purple paint.

#art conservation and restoration #art conservator #painting #microscope #dark academia #art academia #pigment of your imagination

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sanriosratz · 2 years

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Addie!

link

#chain of adrian picrews #kuraitsume’s tattoo & piercing parlour #pigment of your imagination #adrian #adrian lucas beck #piyo picrew #picrew

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pigmented-imagination · 2 years

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Main Characters !

Adrian Lucas Beck (26) he/they

Kai Ailana (29) they/them ey/em

Eun-Ji Moon (24) she/her

Xinyi Jiang (24) she/he/they

Morishita Takeshi (32) they/them

Hunter Mateo (33) he/him

Billie Emerson (30) (she/her)

Side/Supporting Characters !

Annelise Beck (Adrian’s adoptive parent) (46) he/she/they

Nikki Tamaki (Kai’s adoptive parent, ‘Zaza’) (36) they/them

Extra Info !

here is the carrd i made, it has information about their pasts/backstories, i recommend you look at it because it took me a long time to make-

picrews

#pigment of your imagination #pigmented imagination #adrian lucas beck #adrian #kai ailana #kai #eun-ji moon #eun-ji #xinyi jiang #xinyi #annelise beck #annelise #nikki tamaki #nikki #hunter mateo #billie emerson #morishita takeshi

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 month

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llama i must know

do you have any thoughts about siren bad sanses? 👉👈(//ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠//)

do i

Horror: Now, Skull is a cecaelia. But I think Horror would be a little different. A big frightening toothed whale - particularly, a Risso's dolphin. Risso's dolphins have a cool effect where any time they get an injury, their scars lose pigment and remain white forever. Horror is slowly turning whiter and whiter as time goes on.

Just like usual, he used to be normal sized, but his injury kickstarted a bizarre growth spurt and he's become far larger than he ever should've. He enjoys targeting boats - since he's so big he can easily sink small ships, his favourite 'game' is ramming vessels and seeing who survives after the ship rolls over. He eats anyone who drowns.

I can imagine him falling in love with you from the water, and rocking your boat purely to get your attention. If you ignore him he slams into the hull in frustration. He'd never sink your boat, of course... not unless you were really, REALLY ignoring him, and he lost his temper.

Dust: An oceanic whitetip shark. The beautiful dark colouring. The 'dusty' white edges of the fins and tail. A solitary, wandering creature that's probably responsible for many of the open-water shark attacks attributed to other species... IMO, it's absolutely perfect.

Before joining Nightmare, he travelled long distances in isolation, avoiding large vessels or groups but hunting down and killing anyone (or anything) he caught alone. He'll follow prey for weeks; he often waits for people on boats to go stir crazy before he attacks.

He's a distant admirer. He'll stalk from afar, but come closer at night, when it's hard to distinguish his dark shape against the moonlit sea. He thinks you'll be a very pretty siren.

Killer: @aka-indulgence suggested Killer is a bull shark and she's absolutely right. Killer is hyperactive and murderous, but incredibly loyal to those he cares about (even if he won't admit he cares). Bull sharks are fast, notoriously aggressive, yet surprisingly social.

Killer just enjoys... well, killing. He sometimes plays with his prey, but the games are never as forgiving as Horror's, or as patient as Dust's. He likes to bite the limbs off of his targets and watch them struggle to get away.

He's extremely friendly to you. Worryingly so. He lacks any subtlety, he'll come right up to your boat and put his arms over the edge when he wants your attention, flirting like you didn't just watch him murder another siren in cold blood. A swift strike with an oar is usually enough to ward him off - but unfortunately, it never seems to chase him away permanently.

Nightmare: He isn't any one species. He's much, much older. He was something else before his corruption... but times change, don't they? If you don't know what to call him, he certainly doesn't mind the ego stroke of being called a kraken.

Obviously it would be ridiculous of me to make Nightmare anything other than a cecaelia. He's large, scary, black as midnight sea, beautifully bioluminescent when he wants to be. He has attributes of lots of different deep-sea creatures; retractable hooks in his tentacles, a toxic bite, terrifying teeth, incredible vision. He's not the kind of thing you want to encounter underwater. Ever.

The other sirens would be very reluctant to let Nightmare know you exist. But when all three of his underlings are chasing the same prey... well. You'll catch his eye sooner or later.

#llamagines #cw drowning #killer comes back to nightmare with a huge mark on his face (you hit him with the broadside of an oar when he called you a snack)

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daddyricsdoll · 4 months

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Last Christmas ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: Christmas couldn't be finished without a special present from Lando, maybe more than one.

Warnings: Masterbating, voyeurism, thigh riding, face riding, usage of toys, bondage, unprotected sex and creampie.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: This took a little while longer than expected, but I hope you enjoy it just like me and Lando did last night.

Lando walks back into the room with a medium sized box between his large hands. I shake my head in unbelief as he brings me what seems like the 100th present of the night.

“I swear, this is the last one. The best.” A smirk on his gorgeous tan face as he places the box on my lap. I observe it, trying to guess what he could’ve kept in here but then easily give up and untie the delicate bow. The lid is removed right after and my eyes are met with a dildo, vibrator and flimsy but such beautiful lingerie. I squeeze my legs together as it reminds me of last Christmas, our first Christmas together. Lando had gifted me long pieces of silk, which ended in me tied up and helpless while Lando used me however he liked.

My eyes revert back to Lando when he speaks. “I want you to use it.”

“When you’re not here?” I ask so innocently, imagining sending him the videos of me utilising these toys.

“No, now.” A spark in his deep eyes as he silently ushers me to slide my clothes off. I slowly remove the box off my lap and stand in front of him, taking my clothes off leisurely in the way he had always enjoyed me to do. Lando’s eyes glide all over my body as they make contact with his favourite piece of lingerie that I own.

His calloused hands reach out to me and pull me on his lap by my hips. He doesn’t kiss me, but eyes move around my face. They move from each of my eyes to my mouth, and his warm breath touches my face as it leaves the gap between his parted lips.

Inevitably I lean in, trying to close the centimetres between us. “Not yet, let me watch you.” He says against my skin and I have to hold back from disobeying his wishes, just for that little contact. But another need for contact grows, and that contact is between my legs. He quickly tilts his head up, chin pointing toward the blank space on the carpet next to the fireplace and christmas tree.

“Show me what you would do if I wasn’t here.” Lando hands the dildo to me and I get up to stay situated on the floor in front of him. My legs widen and his pigmented eyes lock onto my dripping core. The little bite of his lips force me to clench around nothing before he nods and I run the dildo through my folds.

My lips parted and deep breaths left my mouth as I tease my clit with the dildo before slipping it inside of me slowly. I adapt to the size, not as thick as Lando, and certainly doesn’t feel like him, but it helps ease the need between my legs for now.

My eyes shut close as I started harshly pumping it inside of me. “Open your eyes.” He commands me as his legs are spread and he leans back on the sofa. I find his gaze as he watches me intently, moving from my face then down my body and to the place that holds all the action.

The room silent apart from hushed moans and wet sounds. Deep groans are kept in Lando’s throat as mine are let out involuntarily. I raise my hips and force the dildo to go deeper just to tip me off the edge. My arm grows tired but the look on Lando’s face keeps me ravenous for more.

I curse his name multiple times, eyes struggling to stay entangled with his and he tells me he knows by the curl of his lip. My stomach flew at his little smirk, and it was all I needed for my climax to nudge me. I don’t stop thrusting as I release even after it washes over me.

“Get up.” The first words I hear leave his mouth after minutes. I slide the dildo out of me, feeling empty and in need of something to fill it soon. I stand up and make my way to Lando, my arousal stuck between each of my thighs, and slowly reaching lower.

My waist is pulled into him, and I land on one of his thighs. My slick immediately covers his pants and the fabric of his pants brushes against my clit harshly. A quick moan fleeing my mouth before he captures me in a kiss. Hands gripping me tightly, and lace probably making indents in my skin.

I grind against his thigh as the feeling is now a drug to me. Our lips seem like magnets that can’t have any second away from each other. My fingers pull against the curls on his head as we exchange moans. My swollen clit so sensitive that the feeling of his pants against me brings my climax back up.

My knee strokes the bulge in his pants and Lando bites my lip. Each feeling making us so vulnerable. I cum in those short seconds and suddenly my body is being lifted. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he holds me as he walks us to the bedroom.

My body is thrown onto the bed and I watch as Lando slips his blazer off. “Fuck, you came on my pants from riding my thigh.” He licks his lips before biting them slowly. “I want you to ride my face.” Lando strides toward me, full of purpose. I stay where I am, leaning on my elbows and my legs slightly parted near the end of the bed. His large hands grab my legs and pull me toward him before they grip the lace of my lingerie and he rips it off of my body.

“I’ll buy you another. Fuck I’ll buy as many as you want.” A moan leaves my mouth at his words. He crawls onto the bed and rests his head on a pillow before I leisurely crawl up his body and hover just above his thick neck. I look down at him, eyes silently commanding me to make another move and let it be one where his tongue can touch my pussy.

His hands hold my ass as mine grip the headboard when I slowly inch closer to his face. Lando pulls me down onto him and I whine at the first stroke of his tongue against and through my folds. He guides my hips to move along with his mouth and when his lips wrap around my clit my fingers go into his perfect curls. I continue riding his face, certain my arousal covers his skin.

The little glimpse I got of his face was enough to make me feel more comfortable and my muscles lose tension. Lando mumbles words against me which sends a vibration on my core and tingles throughout my body.

I let his fingers dig into my skin and help move my body around. Each movement he makes adds onto the friction and escalation to my climax. He buried his tongue inside of me and curled it multiple times. Involuntarily making my hips writhe.

And just like we had both expected, I cum onto his face for the first time this intriguing night. I flop onto the duvet beside me, out of breath and most definitely tired. My pussy is most definitely swollen and I probably can’t take anymore, but with Lando, I know there’s more and he’ll make me handle it.

The weight of his body leaves the bed but I don’t question it as my eyes don’t stop fluttering. His footsteps leave then come back and when my eyes open I see him standing beside me. “You tasted so good, but time for something else.” He lifts four silk ribbons in front of my eyes and I know exactly what my next moves are. I stretch out each of my limbs, letting them get tied to the bed and making me feel a sense of vulnerability.

The light sound of buzzing fills my ears and when I strain my neck to catch a glance at the man who holds all control, a relatively small vibrator is in his hands. I had already felt so much this one night that I can feel it even when it doesn’t make contact with me. The contact wasn’t firm, and I couldn’t handle his teasing which results in begs leaving my mouth.

“Please Lando. I need to feel it. I-I can see how close it is and-” My words are cut off when the vibrator is pushed roughly against my clit. Loud moans and whines leave my mouth and my eyes shut close at the feeling. The feeling is soon gone when he lets go of the vibrator and it lays between my legs, but not touching any of them.

I can hear and feel it against the duvet before I’m distracted with Lando now tying a piece of that silk ribbon across my eyes. “I don’t want you to see how close it is, I want you to feel it.” The sentence leaves his mouth smoothly.

All of my other senses now heightened and my hearing now is the only thing still keeping me sane as I lose contact with him. The light sound of his belt travels to my ears before it’s covered by a buzz of the vibrator.

I wait and the anticipation grows. The weight of Lando on the lower half of the bed splits my attention and instead of feeling the vibrator against my folds it’s the tip of his dick. My breath hitches and Lando doesn’t take his time as he thrusts into me.

Not stopping so I can get used to his size, but making sure it happens while he stretches me during every ram. I have no control of my body at this moment, but I don’t see it as a problem. Lando lifts my hips and my g-spot becomes an easier target for him to hit. Doing more than just stroking it with every drive into me. My mind remembers every little nanometre of him while he ruins me with his dick. Hands balling into fists, but only wishing to be in his hair.

I wish to see the little grin on his face, but the blindfold steals that privilege from me, but it gives me the one of feeling him even better. I take notice of his movements more prominently as it’s the only thing that can help me predict what will happen next.

His skin brushes along my oversensitive clit and it brings my climax right in front of me. I allow my body to go limp in his arms as he uses me like an object. My climax comes faster than expected when I clench around his dick and make him groan in such an unholy way. The wet noises of Lando riding my high out to get him to his was more than music to my ears. But when he finally came, he made sure it wasn’t the same as others.

I feel his cum fill me, not leaving a place untouched. Lando pulls out and his tongue circles around my nipple while his other hand teases my other, soon swapping to evenly spread the sensation. His cum seeps out of me and slowly starts to cover the duvet. I can’t help but feel aroused at the thought of him filling me up so much that it drips out of my ruined pussy.

“This was better than last christmas huh?” Lando mumbles against my lips as he finally takes my blindfold off. I get to be welcomed by his eyes and I don’t manage to look anywhere else for moments too long. Moments I was glad were used on him.

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oepionie · 1 year

Text

— "INTO THE RABBIT-HOLE" THE CROWNED PRINCESS OF RAMSHACKLE. riddle rosehearts

💭ramshackle princess series masterlist | 💬ao3 link

SYNOPSIS: A dispute with Riddle prompts the prefect to flee into the forest where she falls into a rabbit hole and finds herself in a mad fantastical realm of her imagination. Here, she meets her friends who are acting somewhat strangely… odd. They all treat her as royalty and whisk her away to a castle where her husband, the Red Queen, eagerly awaits her return.

How curious.

⊹ [ cw ] — hurt/comfort, falling from heights, arguments, lashing out, fighting, allusions to executions and stabbing, mentions of a knife, mentions of smoking, mild blood, riddle lashes out on you◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, FEM! READER | deuce punches you, che'nya is a little shit, trey with bunny ears, ace and deuce as the tweedle dumbasses, affectionate riddle, cater as hot knave◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 9K+

ACT I: BLOOD RED MESS

"It was just sitting on top of the old boxes in the attic!" You exclaimed, fumbling with the tiara buried deep in your bag. Trey watched as you took it out, holding it up for him to see. It was of a silver color, embezzled and richly decorated with diamonds. The tiara had a fan shaped diadem, nine throngs, and a small blue heart-shaped jewel as its centerpiece. It was an ornament befitting royalty. Not really something you'd find in Ramshackle's run-down attic.

"That does look expensive. What do you plan on doing with it?" Trey asked, pushing his glasses up. Both of you were taking a walk through the grounds of Heartslabyul, basking in the sunshine. "That could sell for quite a lot of money."

"Tempting, but I was planning on giving it to Crowley." You muttered, turning the tiara in your hands and admiring the way it glimmered in the sunlight.

All of a sudden, in the corner of your eye, a small green blur dashed into the rosebushes, scurrying deep into the green brambles. Gasping, you pointed to it. "Oh! Trey, did you see that?"

"See what...?" Trey blinked. You rushed forward, parting the branches and peering through the shrub. A green rabbit in a waistcoat dashed through the bushes, a ticking clock perched onto his hip. "A bunny rabbit!"

"A rabbit-? O-Oi! Prefect?!" Trey ran after you as you rushed through the bushes, intent on chasing the bunny. Branches and rose thorns scratched and tore at your uniform, but you paid no mind to it. The rabbit took a sharp turn right, and you followed in hot pursuit. As you rounded the corner, you crashed into a large stack of paint buckets. The canisters all toppled to the ground, breaking open and tainting the green grass red.

Likewise, you also fell into the red puddle. The paint pooled around you, seeping into your clothes and hair. You groaned, pushing yourself away from the wreckage. "Just my lucky day."

While you were busy glaring down at the offending red pigment bleeding onto your pristine white blouse, Trey had rushed to your side. The third-year seemed to be nervous as he wiped your face down with his sleeve. "Prefect, quick, fix yourself up before—"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Riddle exclaimed, the clattering click of his heels signaling his arrival as he stomped towards you.

Uh oh.

"O-Oh! Riddle, I—" You stammered, scrambling up. "Love, I was just trying to—"

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?!" Riddle yelled, pulling you away from Trey and seizing your arm—all with a frown etched onto his face. You whimpered at his tight hold, his blunt nails digging deep into your skin. "What were you thinking?! Why were you running through the gardens like some buffoon?!"

"I-I...I was chasing...a rabbit." You peered at him through shaky wet lashes, cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Your sweetheart stared at you in incredulity before a snarky laugh left his lips.

"A rabbit." Riddle seethed, dragging a hand down his face. His pointed glare cut through you as he gestured towards the mess of red. "All that for a rabbit?!"

"I'll have you know that batch of paint is a special import from the Queendom of Roses. We've been waiting for its arrival for months and now you've ruined it with your tomfoolery!" The redhead's chest heaved as he finished his outburst. His skin had turned crimson, and a vein had ticked on his temple. Riddle grabbed a battered bucket beside you, making you avert your gaze towards him.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" He said. Your mouth dropped open, but you found yourself unable to say anything. The longer you kept silent, the more he felt his anger simmer. Riddle's face twisted into a vicious scowl before he threw the bucket full-force at a nearby tree. The resounding bang made you jump, fear gripping your heart.

"I said—" Riddle paused, his tongue screeching to a halt once he saw thick blobs of tears sliding down your face. Silence soon followed. Quickly, his demeanor changed as he finally realized the cruelty and weight of his words.

Muttering obscenities under his breath, Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose. He's done it again, he let his anger get the better of him.

Mistaking his guilt for anger, you cowered before him, watery eyes glued to the ground as you sputtered out sloppy apologies. "I'm s-sorry, Riddle...I'm really sorry."

"No, I—" The redhead let go of your arm, causing you to fall back and crumble to the floor. He scrambled to kneel down beside you, hands hovering over your waist. "Rose, I didn't mean to—"

"I-I have to go." Everyone stared at you with sympathy as you rushed out of the garden, frantically wiping away at the tears on your cheeks. Riddle tried to go after you, but Trey blocked his path. The third-year shook his head, pushing the dormleader back. "Give her some space."

"You can apologize later." Trey sighed. He folded his arms over his chest, looking as if he was about to lecture Riddle. But the look of guilt on his childhood friend's face already told him all he needed to know.

ACT II: JUST LIKE ALICE

Sobs racked through your chest as you rushed through the woods. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew was that you needed to get away. Riddle's words still beat and tore at your poor heart.

So stricken with embarrassment from earlier, you didn't notice an overgrown branch sticking out of the dirt and you tripped, slipping into an agape rabbit hole. You fell through the dirt tunnel; Screaming your lungs out, spinning around wildly in the air, and panicking while tears sprung out of your eyes. Though you soon realized, as minutes passed that you were still falling. The hole seemed to be unending.

"By the great sevens-?!" You soon stopped spinning wildly and instead started floating down. From soaring book shelves, a musty wrinkled bed, a vintage lamp and a broken down piano—The hole around you was filled with all sorts of trinkets and junk.

It took a good 10 minutes before you finally dropped to the ground. Oddly enough, your fall didn't hurt one bit. In fact, it was rather...plush?

Looking down, you found yourself seated on a tremendous pile of pillows. Each pillow was distinct, mainly covered with red and black patchwork—you could only assume it was handmade. There was some sort of symbolism stitched onto it as well, resembling either a heart or playing cards.

"What in the...Twisted Wonderland?" You gasped, standing up.

Whilst on top of the pillowy mountain, you took the chance to survey the surrounding room. It was a great hallway lined with many doors of all shapes and sizes. The area was fairly big, modeled after Heartslabyul's dorms with its wine-red walls, checkered floors, and peculiar heart-themed architecture.

Was this some sort of secret hideout?

"How curious..." Sliding down the hill of pillows, you decide to survey the hallway. Amongst the doors, you find a small one that's hardly the size of your foot. It was unique from the rest, colored purple and framed by a golden archway instead of the common silver one that others had.

Speculative, you wrapped your fingers around the minuscule handle and turned the door open. You bent down to peek through and catch sight of a beautiful, lush garden.

A group of flowers danced around in the wind, almost as if they were beckoning you to take a closer look. For some odd reason, it fascinated you. In a trance, you turned back to the room with a new goal in mind. Surely there must be something in here that could take you in?

A banquet table sitting in the far corner caught your eye. It was filled to the brim with fresh pastries and drinks, strange considering no one was here. Though a bit creeped out, you took a gander at the feast lay out before you. Despite the table being so long, there was only one chair present and in front of it was an envelope.

"Curiouser and curiouser." You mutter.

Tearing the top open with your nail, you plucked out the contents of the envelope and caught sight of your name marked in elegant cursive on a lustrous golden card.

"A letter...?" You muttered. What you found was an invitation to a party. "Addressed to me?"

"The Red Queen's Unbirthday party...?" You mumbled, eyes skimming over the text until one line attracted your attention. "—Where His Majesty's Rose shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?"

A Tiara? With Nine-Throngs?

Blinking, you turned back to the stack of pillows. The very tiara you found in your attic was sitting at the top, glimmering under the lights of the hall. Uh...when exactly did that get here?

You squinted your eyes at the line again. "Where she shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara..."

"Put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?" Pocketing the invitation, you trudged back to the very top of the pillows and took the jewel headdress in your hands. You could only assume that its appearance here right now was the result of magic.

...So it wouldn't be far off to say that it had magical powers, huh?

Taking a deep breath, you raised it above your head. "Well then, here goes nothing."

After gently setting it atop your head, you soon found a mystical glow engulfing your body. Gasping, you watched as your school uniform shifted and altered into a dress.

The dress was of a sky blue, a long train at its back, pleats along its front; It was decked with lavish lace, delicate embroidery and sewn in with diamonds.

The dress was knee-length and its big bouffant-styled skirt bounced when you walked. For accessories, you had opera-length white gloves and matching white stockings on.

Running your hand up your neck, you noticed how it had a high white lace collar which oddly complimented the black bow tied snug around your waist. The sneakers you had previously worn shifted themselves into dark mary janes, which felt like clouds with every step you took.

"O...kay? A dress-up was not what I was expecting." Sighing, you bunched up the train of your skirt in your hands and rushed back to the banquet table. This time, you took a look at the food and found a champagne bottle labeled "DRINK ME".

Silently debating if this was a good idea, after a while, you decide to just go for it. Popping the bottle open, you take a quick swig and immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. Gagging, you place the bitter drink down on the table.

"H-Huh!?" You gasp as the room around you grew bigger and bigger or rather—as you grew smaller and smaller.

"Oof!" You plopped down onto the floor, the banquet table now towering over you. The drink had managed to shrink you to the right size and it seems that your clothes adjusted accordingly. Clapping your hands, you happily made your way to the golden door and turned the handle.

Only to find that it was locked.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Furrowing your brows, you continued to furiously fumble with the doorknob.

"It wasn't locked earlier!" You whined, kicking at the door. Huffing, you turned back once more to the table. A small golden key was seen on top, one that you must have missed earlier.

Well, it was far too high up for you to reach now that was for sure. While marching up to the key, you spot a cookie marked “EAT ME” hidden behind one of the nearby table legs.

"Might as well." You shrug, grabbing the cookie. After brushing it off, you move in to take a bite. "This can't possibly get any worst."

"Huh...? W-Woah!" You shriek, looking down at your feet which seemed to be so far off. Just then your head struck against the roof of the hall. "Uff!"

This time, it seems that the cookie caused you to grow to an inordinately large height.

"That hurt..." You grumbled, rubbing the top of your head. At once, you took up the tiny golden key and hurried off to take the champagne bottle, downing the liquid and shrinking back down. With a pep in your step, you rushed towards the door.

"Alright, Wonderland." You pushed the key into the keyhole, turning until you heard a click.

"What do you have in store for me?"

Stepping into the door, you found yourself in the peculiar garden.

It was a whimsical wonderland of it's own. The sky was painted in reds and pinks, and the flowers were ones that you've never seen nor heard of before. The only ones familiar to you were the rosebushes which surrounded the area, enclosed around the garden like towering barricades as little butterflies kissed its roses, fluttering about the flora.

"Oi!" Jumping, you whipped your head around to find a familiar pair of ginger and blueberry heads peeking out from a tree. "Who're you?"

Gasping, both of your hands clasped over your mouth.

"Ace?! Deuce?!" The first-years jumped at your shrill shriek, nervously exchanging glances when their names flew out of your mouth. Both of them stepped away from their hiding spot, cautiously walking towards you.

"How do y'know my name?" Ace asked. You were about to answer his question, but got distracted once you noticed the ridiculous outfits they were dressed in. Both of them had identical vivid yellow blouses with thick white lapels. Said blouses were paired with high-waisted red slacks and big blue bow-ties.

Snorting, you covered your mouth to conceal your giggles. "W-What's with the goofy fit?"

"Eh? This is what we wear every day?" Deuce halted, looking down on his outfit. Ace shook his head, slapping his friend by the back of his head. "N-Never-mind that, listen, we have no idea who you are but—"

"Huh...?" You blinked dementedly. "What do you mean you have no idea who I am...? I'm Y/N!"

Both of them stared blankly at each other, then at you. Simultaneously, they bluntly replied. "Who?"

"Y/N!"

Ace folded his arms across his puffed up chest. "Never heard of 'er."

"Guys, seriously-"

"That dress looks expensive." Deuce noted, "Are you some duchess from out of the kingdom?"

"No! I'm-" You struggled.

"Deuce, I don't know about you...but I think she might be a bit cuckoo in the head." Ace whispered, deliberately backing away from you. "Let's walk away slowly..."

"Alright! Enough with the jokes!" You lashed out. Gathering your skirt in your hands, you frantically rushed towards the two. "Listen to me! I'm-"

"Your majesty!" Popping out of a corner, Trey appeared by your side and scrambled to clumsily curtsy before you. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and square. Stupefied, you stumbled back and gawked at him. "Y-Your majesty?"

It was only then did you notice the two fluffy green bunny ears sitting atop his head. He fumbled with an antique pocket watch, taking a quick glance at the clock before hastily stuffing it into his pocket. Trey wore a plaid red petticoat, dark maroon slacks, and a deep lavender bowtie.

"I apologize for these two." He awkwardly chuckled, kicking at the two boys' knees and forcing them into kneeling positions. Nearly toppling over from the force of Trey's kick, both Ace and Deuce hurriedly crouched down before you.

"We apologize, your highness. We didn't realize it was you..." Deuce trailed off, face spiraling into a ghostly pasty white. "Y-You're not going to cut our heads off, are you?"

"Why—in the everlasting fuck—would I do that?!" You swore, scraping your fingers through your hair and tugging at the strands which made your tiara turn askew. "I don't even know what's going on!"

"Neither do I." All of a sudden, a floating grin appeared in the middle of nowhere, manifesting itself out of thin air. Then, a head and body slowly appeared in a cloud of lavender mist. A purple-haired cat-beastman appeared before you, tail swishing around gracefully as he smoked a long hookah.

The cat looked at you for some time in silence, his face obscured by the thick purple mist he was smoking. At last, he took the hookah out of his mouth, and addressed Trey in a languid voice. "My~ You guys are really giving our rose a headache!"

The smoke cleared to reveal a familiar face grinning at you.

"Che'nya?! You're here too?!" You gasped.

"Yes~ Hello, there. Alchemi Alchemivich Pinka at your service," He bows.

"I have to say! It's great to see you here, your highness!" Che'nya chortled, floating up into the air and spinning around playfully. "Your husband turned the entire kingdom upside down looking for you."

Jolting, you pressed your palm flat to your chest in shock. "M-My husband?!"

"Yesss~" Che'nya drawled, floating around without a care in the world. "Your queen has gone mad ever since you've gone, your highness."

"My queen?!" Is your bewildered response.

"Yes, your majesty. Erm...the 'queen' is a he." Trey confirmed. "Queen Rosehearts has been in a state of panic since you've disappeared weeks ago."

Nodding along, Che'nya gestures to the bright red ring on your hand. You gape at the jewel, eyes ripped wide open. Where did that come from? What is with you and random jewelry popping out of nowhere? No, most importantly—you were married to Riddle?!

You tilt your head up, meeting everyone's eyes in a panicked state.

"This is a dream," Slowly backing away, you cradled your head in your hands. The gravity of the situation you were in was finally sinking in.

As you guessed, this was an extremely lucid and well-crafted dream. It had to be a dream. What other reason was there?

Most likely, you were in the forest right now, having fallen unconscious after tripping over that branch. Yes, truly, you must have hit your head somewhere.

In a daze, you gestured to the world around you. "Yes. Yes, this is a dream."

With that logic in mind, you were safely held inside the comforting quarters of your own head.

"You!" You bellow and point a rigid finger at Deuce. The poor boy tensed up, fear striking him like thunder as you moved towards his incapacitated frame. Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you pulled him towards you and spat out an order,

"Punch me."

Instantaneously, his horror-stricken expression melts into one of confusion. You want him to do what now?

"Erm.." Deuce furrows his brows, closes his eyes and clutches his chin, pondering.

Surely, it was against the law to punch the Queen's Rose? If Riddle got the slightest whiff of what he's done, he's a dead man. Then again, disobeying direct orders from royalty was also a crime, was it not?

He was torn.

Deuce sighs, moistening his lips as he meets your frenzied gaze. Ah, well...either way, this was a lose-lose situation for him.

"A-As you wish." Raising his arm, he smashed a rough fist against your cheek. The blow caused your head to violently whip back as you stumbled to the ground.

Minutes pass and yet, to your chagrin, apart from the growing bruise on your cheek, nothing has changed. You blink incessantly, brows drawn tight together.

"That's odd. Punching usually does the trick." You murmur, concurrently confused and dizzy. Trey helped you up and considered your condition with reckoning eyes. "Your majesty, have you hit your head somewhere? Or maybe you're sick? You're acting...odd."

"Oh, well—First off, I fell down a rabbit hole. Then there were pillows, tiny doors—and-and other things I can't even make sense of!" You gestured grandly around, acting out the various things you've experienced but Trey doesn't seem to appreciate your ramblings, continuing to stare at you like you were a madman.

You huff and scoured the vast open gardens as if you could find the culprit who had created this insane world. "This is all so insane, weird, a-and—and mad!”

"Oh, your highness, everyone here is mad. Especially you~!" Che'nya cackled, throwing his head back in amusement. He floated towards you, wrapping his lithe tail around your waist. "Ah, but while I do enjoy the little show you're putting on. We really have to get you back to the castle. Can't really have our kingdom's rose wandering around the forest with memory loss, hm?"

In a snap of his fingers, a map appeared before you.

"This, your highness, is the Red Castle. That's where you reside." Che'nya tapped his fingertip against the very center where an illustration of a castle was shown. It was quite nicely done, nearly to the point of obsessive architectural intricacy.

"Trey, I trust you'll take them there?" Che'nya purrs, head tilting to the side, knuckles pushing up against his cheek.

"Of course. I'll make sure you return home safe, your majesty." Trey responded, one of his bunny ears swiveling.

Once again, he checked his watch, anxiety gripping him as a trickle of sweat dripped down onto the glass frame. After a while, he pocketed it and reached his hand out to you. "We must leave now. I'm already running late for the unbirthday party. The opening ceremony starts in 3 hours..."

'Curious and curiouser...This is not so bad a dream,' you thought as you intertwined your fingers with his. 'Perhaps I should stay a while.'

ACT III: A WATCHFUL EYE

"Hey! Bunny—We really had to go this way?" Ace groaned, holding onto the train of your skirt as to not sully it on the dirt ground.

"It's the quickest way to the castle. You know we can't waste any more time." Trey pressed, directing your group deeper into the woods.

"Yeah, yeah! You told me that earlier. I just don't get why I gotta follow? That cat-guy dipped the moment we stepped a foot into this place." Ace pouted, kicking a nearby pebble away.

"Oh, is that so? Well then, feel free to go back." Trey scorned, taking the train of your dress away from Ace's hands and grasping it in his own. "It's not like I'm forcing you to come along. Surely that would make you happier?"

"Fine by me!" The ginger scoffed, crossing his arms and proceeding to go the other way.

Rolling his eyes, Trey pressed a hand by your back and continued guiding you through the forest. Only for you to come to a halt, digging your heels to the ground. "Wait."

"Your majesty?" The bunny noticed how your eyes flickered to Ace's retreating form briefly, concern swimming around your bright orbs.

"Will he be alright? I'm not so sure he even remembers where we came from..." You sighed. "We can't really leave him behind. Especially in this forest, of all places."

Trey stays silent, a warm smile spreading across his cheeks. Ah, so the tales were true. Tales of the Queen's Rose and their never-ending compassion. Hearsay's of how they pardon offenders sent to the dungeon cells or to the pillory of a guillotine.

"Don't worry, your majesty," Trey chuckled. "He'll be crawling after us in a few minutes."

Shaking your head, you grimaced. "If you say so."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"That damn bunny. Makin' me go into this creepy place." Ace seethed through gritted teeth, stomping back from where he came from. "Like hell I'm wasting my time helping that crazy missy."

As he trudged through the dirt pathway, a branch cracked in the far distance and he froze. Fear gripped him in it's grasp as a cool chill seeped into his bones, creeping all the way up to his spine.

Ahm...was it just him, or was the sky darker now?

Gulping, Ace's eyes darted around the forest. The wind howled and screeched, the tall decaying branches of rotting trees reached out to him like talons, and the gloomy shadows in the distance morphed into twisted, deformed faces.

Yeah, no. He was out.

"O-Oi! Guys, on second thought, a hike is just what I need!" Ace disputes, struggling for breath as he chased after you. "Guys?!"

As Ace skittered after you, he was completely oblivious to the ominous gaze pinned to his back.

Obscured behind a cluster of trees, a raven, perched atop a log, looked straight at your group with a lidded stare—unblinking and as still as a statue.

Once you were all out of it's sight, the raven spread it's wings and took off into the sky. It soared through the woodlands, fleetly gliding around the large trees of a forest and wide grassy plains before reaching the Queen's domain.

Grey mist and thin fog cut through the streets of the kingdom while a looming feeling of dread permeated through the air. The past few weeks of searching have not been merciful to the people, it seems. Everyone has felt the full effect of the rose's disappearance.

Once the bird reached the territory of the Red Castle, it swoops and dips down to a balcony. The Knave of Knights stood by his desk in his bedroom, reading over letters and declarations from the Queen. Just a few beheadings to schedule here and there, nothing too difficult.

The loud flap of wings drew his attention away from the desk. A leering smirk stretches across his face as he stands and leisurely strolls over to the bird.

"Birdie~ Back so soon? Have you found them?" He purrs, cocking his head. The leather pads of his glove stroke lightly at the crow's head as it squawks a response. "Hmm~? The queen's favorite trio of lunatics is taking her here?"

Chucking, the Knave clasped his hands around his sallet—lazily pulling his helmet off and allowing his ginger hair to cascade down his shoulders. The iron of his cuirassier plate armor glinted under the glare of the sun, refined and battle-scarred though peculiarly lavishly decorated. It seemed to serve more as a fashion statement than actual protection.

"Well then~ Let's go pay Queen Red a visit, lil' Cay-Cay." Cater muses, scratching the side of his cheek.

"Hopefully that rabbit can handle it. It's going to be MY head on the pillory if she doesn't return home safe."

ACT IV: STRAWBERRY JAM

"SOMEONE HAS TAKEN THREE OF MY TARTS!"

The doors to the throne-room thrash open, smashing hard against the walls. Servants and soldiers alike startled, groveling in fear as they forced their gaze towards the entryway. In all his full glory, the Red Queen appears, adorned in his usual white dress suit.

His face was tinted in a deep bloody red, pupils dilated into mere pin-pricks, and thin lips stretched out into a snarl. The wisps of his lashes cast a bold shadow across his plump cheekbones, the brush of scarlet eyeshadow above his eyes intensifying his scornful gaze.

Card soldiers frantically scramble to line up by the pathway as Riddle prowls around the room, his signature cape tossed over his left shoulder, dragging along the floor as he went. Snarling, he points his golden scepter to a soldier standing by the end of the line. "Was it you?!"

"N-No my queen..."

"You?!" Riddle bellows, swiveling his scepter to point to one of your handmaids this time. Whimpering, she shook like a leaf in her shoes, wringing a washcloth tight in her hands. "I-It w-was not me, my queen."

A sudden movement, on the fringes of his peripheral vision, caught his attention. Turning around, his gaze was drawn to a chef standing near the door. The boy appeared to be no more than fifteen years old. Riddle assumed he was a mere apprentice.

The chef popped his fingers in his mouth, seemingly humming at it's taste. How...odd.

Squinting his eyes, Riddle strides towards the apprentice. He approached the boy, pushing him back until his back was flush against the window's tinted glass panes.

"And how about you...?" Riddle seethes, leaning down close to the chef's face. A wobbly grin presents itself on the boy's lips as he stutters out a greeting.

"Tsk." Tutting, Riddle places his scepter below the apprentice's chin, flicking the boy's gaze up. His crimson eye darts to the side of the chef's lips where a smidge of jam could be faintly seen.

"Miscreant." Riddle snarls, dragging the boy forward by his apron. Falling forward, the subject scrapes his skin against the floor—a look of horror seeping onto his face as he kneels before his queen.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD." Riddle screams, slamming the bottom of his scepter onto the ground which discharged a burst of magic. A collar manifested itself around the chef's neck, so heavy that it weighed his entire upper body down—making him fall.

Panicking, he writhed around on the ground but could not muster enough strength to bring his head up due to the sheer weight of the restraints.

"No! Please!" Indifferent to the pleads of his victim, Riddle scoffs and struts towards his throne, heels noisily clicking against the marble. Moving swiftly, a pair of soldiers grabbed the offender by his arms, dragging him out of the room. As the screaming crook was taken out, the doors shut close with a resounding bang.

"My apologies for the disturbance." Sighing, Riddle reclines against his throne, cape draped across his shoulder and cascading down to his lap. Grumbling, he pushes his hair back—half-lidded gaze piercing through the crowd before him.

"All of you return to your previous duties." He orders. Though hesitant, gradually, the servants resumed to their previous tasks around the castle, toiling silently as to avoid further aggravating the Red Queen.

Riddle sighs and sinks onto his throne, rubbing at the scorch in his eyes. The warm beaming light of the sun cascaded down his flushed face as he reflected over his previous actions

Was he too harsh with his punishment? After all, you've always resented the way he dealt with delinquents so...intently.

Riddle sighs, tilting his head back. Perhaps he should have—

A frown etched itself deep onto his cheeks.

No. That chef deserved every bit of punishment sent his way. It was a general and well-known rule in the castle that no one must consume the tarts baked in preparation for an unbirthday party. Only a fool would forget it.

"It was justified," He huffs. "I am clearly in the right," Riddle consoles himself.

Behind the draping crimson curtains of the throne room, a tall figure steps out—adorned in a full suit of armor. The Red Queen glances at the stranger, immediately recognizing the tangerine strands peeking out through the openings of his helmet.

"Knave." Riddle murmurs, addressing Cater with a simple glare. Unfazed, Cater bows with a cheery grin before striding over to the queen's side. Plopping himself onto the arm of the chair, Cater leans down to wrap an arm around Riddle. "Hiya~!"

"That was certainly the performance of a lifetime earlier. It was theatre worthy!" The Knave snickers, eyes sweeping across the room, rejoicing at the horrified looks the servants send him.

'How dare a mere knave like him act so friendly with the red queen?!' He could already hear their hushed whispers. 'Was he mad?'

'Mayhaps.' Cater chuckles, eyes turning dark.

"Anyhow~! Boy, do I have some good news for you." Cater laughs, mood switching over like a light switch. He pulls off his helmet, fanning his face with his hands. "Man, it's so hot in here. Like—Who installed the ventilation?"

Riddle clicks his tongue, pushing the knave away. "I am in no mood for your shenanigans. Come back some other time."

"Ugh, if you say so." Cater sighs, slipping off the throne and turning his back to the queen. "I guess you don't want to hear about how my little pet found your rose. Toodles!"

"What?" Riddle snaps, pulling Cater back by his arm. "Repeat that at once."

Cater smiles.

He turns to Riddle with a cold dead look in his eyes. "Ara~? Didn't you say you weren't in the mood? Don't worry. I'll come back later. For now, I'll be on my merry way~"

"Do not test me, knave." Riddle seethes, hands coiling tight around his scepter. Cater hummed, waiting a second or so before responding.

"Little Cay-Cay found her with the bunny and the tweedle duo. They were trekking through the forest." He rasps, toying with the half painted rose brooch on Riddle's suit pocket. "I think that little baker bunny of yours is escorting her here."

"Find them." Riddle growls, baring his teeth. Cater blinked languidly, confusion written all over his features. "Why would I do that? Like I said, they're already bringing her here—"

"I said find them!" The red queen snaps, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his throne. Cater stares at him with a passive expression, unmoving and watching Riddle's every movement carefully.

Well, this certainly ruined his plans. What a travesty.

"As you wish..." He kneels, slipping his helmet back onto his head. "...your majesty."

ACT V: THE KNAVE

Despite the initial creepiness, it was quite nice to take a walk in the forest.

Owls hooted and birds chirped in the darkness as golden-orange leaves fluttered in the wind. The soft cool breeze occasionally reached out to caress your cheeks. Nature was at pure harmony with each other here, melting into a single combined melody that provided your group with peaceful ambience.

"The gates are just up ahead. It'll lead us directly to the castle grounds." Trey divulged, tilting his head towards a distant outline of a castle.

You took a deep breath and took in the crisp woodland air, letting it fill your lungs before exhaling it out. The anticipation of what was to come made your hands clammer as a wave of nervousness washed over you.

"Hi~! Oh, Miss Majesty!" The clippety-clop of hooves made its way towards you. Seated on a gigantic beauty of a black stallion, a rider halted before you.

"Oh! U-Um..." Gasping, you gathered your skirt and stumbled back. Tilting your head up, you gazed up at the stranger, "Ah...are you some kind of royal guard?"

The mysterious armor-clad rider laughs, shaking his head. "Hmm...close to that! Actually, I'm a knave!"

"The name is Cater Diamond. At your service." Cater bowed. His horse too mimicked his actions as it bent a knee and curtseyed before you. Giggling, you raised a hand to gently pet at the stallion's mane. It seemed to revel in the gesture as it relaxed and huffed in satisfaction.

"Ah. Cater, I-I didn't expect to see you here." Trey fiddled with his glasses, a ruminative look on his face. The chef kept himself guarded, stepping a few feet away. Cater side-eyed him, smiling ominously. "Hiyaa~ Trey! Nice to see you and your little tweedle boys."

Deuce and Ace frowned, glaring at the smug aristocrat. Folding his arms over his chest, Trey sighed. "Yeah...nice to see you."

"Mhm~ Now!" Cater clapped his hands. "While I really do appreciate you bringing our Miss Majesty back to the kingdom...I do believe there's an unbirthday party coming up? Well, it would be best if you commoners—Ah, excuse me—participants went ahead and started preparing."

All three had the same smoldering frown branded onto their faces. They were clearly irked at the not-so-subtle dig Cater sent their way. It’s becoming a bit of a ritual: every time the knave would meet any of them there was always some snarky comment sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"I dunno' if you're blind or anythin', but we're kinda busy." Ace scoffed, tilting his head over to you. "She still has to get into that castle."

"Ah, about that! Don't worry~ I'll take things over and bring the rose to the castle." Cater grins at you, patting down his horse. "Miss Majesty, wouldn't you prefer riding a great stallion instead of...how horrifying...walking?"

"Oh, I really don't mind walking. I think I'll just—"

"Great!" Before you could finish your sentence, Cater leans down and wraps a firm steady arm around your bottom. You flinch, pushing your hands against his shoulders. "H-Hey!"

"Easy now, Miss Majesty." He hoists you up onto his horse, securely placing you atop the saddle. The train of your dress was now bunched up by your hips as you sat sideways on the stallion.

"You're so relentless." You huff, smacking Cater's iron clad chest. Only to end up regretting it when your palm started to throb from the impact. Hissing, you drew your hand back.

What a surprise. Who knew hitting someone decked in full armor wasn't a good idea?

“It would be unrefined for me to leave her with someone—someone like you!” Trey bristles, dashing over to pull you off the horse but Cater was quick to shove him away.

“Oh, please, bunny. I insist,” Cater replies firmly. “You're a busy man, Trey. I—of all people—know the importance of keeping a well-ordered schedule and you know fully well how Queen Rosehearts hates being off schedule."

Trey stays silent, keeping his gaze glued to his feet.

Grinning wryly, Cater starts guiding his horse in the direction of the castle. "Well, then~ Toodles! We'll see you three at the party."

With a whip of his reins, both of you were off.

In haste, you turned your head around, bidding adieu to the trio as they waved back.

ACT VI: MAD PARTY

The journey to the castle was fairly long, yet you found yourself enjoying the sights and bustle of the city blurring past you while the people greeted you with robust gaiety and mirth.

When the clouds parted to reveal the sun, you noticed that your eyes stung as you peered up at the strangely pink sky. It wasn't the intense brightness of the sky; rather, it had a shade that brought back memories of late afternoons spent in Heartslabyul, petting pink flamingos while lying on the grass with Riddle's head on your lap.

Following unbirthday celebrations, it was routine for you two to relax while just enjoying each other's company.

Ah, that's right...the unbirthday party. In fact, now that you think about it, there was an unbirthday planned in your "reality" as well. It was the day after today, and the entire dorm was overrun with work.

A painful sting crept up your heart as you remembered the events that transpired earlier. Oh, you must have ruined Riddle's preparations...no wonder he was so livid.

The horse slowed to a stop as you reached the entryway of the castle. It was in essence of a Victorian design. With its mosaic of red cobblestone and brick, it stood there—tall and bold, as though conjured from a child's fairytale.

Cater slipped off his horse and held out a hand for you to take. "Shall we? Ah, but, you do know that your presence is mandatory at an unbirthday party?"

"Yes, I do. We shall." You smile and take his hand as he carries you off the horse, setting you down onto the ground. The knave led you to the back of the castle, where a garden—or, more accurately, a yard—was at.

A big rose-tree at the entryway drew your attention. The roses growing on it were white, but there were two gardeners at it, busily painting them red.

"How curious..." You mutter. "It's just like back in Heartslabyul..."

"Pardon? What was that, your majesty?" Cater questioned, a brow raised. You shook your head, faking a cough. "Ah—Erm—Nevermind that it was just a slip of tongue."

"Oh. Alright..." He regarded you with a skeptical look. "Well then. I'll leave you to it. I have to go fetch Queen Rosehearts."

"Do enjoy the party." With a final bow, Cater strode away, leaving you alone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The party was bustling and filled with patricians dressed in colorful, silky lavish garbs and glimmering jewels. The majority of the men and women were dressed considerably more extravagantly than you. It was a charming small extravaganza that everyone seemed to enjoy.

They were all huddled around by a grand large banquet table, but you weren't interested in that at all.

Among the guests, you recognized Trey. He appeared to be speaking to a card soldier in a hasty, anxious manner, smiling at everything the soldier said and passing you by unnoticed. The bunny was clearly preoccupied; you decided to leave him be this time.

You turned back to the gardeners painting the rosebushes. What a very curious thing...and you went nearer to watch them.

Just as you came up to them, one of them nearly splashed you with a dash of paint. You pulled your skirt out of the way, narrowly missing a drop of red. "Oh, my!"

"Oi! Look out, Deuce! Don’t go splashing paint over like that!" You peered up at the gardeners, noticing two familiar faces.

Ace and Deuce were engaged in a heated argument, flinging their brushes and buckets around.

“I couldn’t help it! You jogged my elbow!" Deuce snarled, throwing his brush at Ace. Screeching, the ginger dodged it. "Oh yeah! That’s right, Deuce! Always lay the blame on others!”

Deuce flung down his paintbucket, and had just begun to roll his sleeves up "Say that again—” when his eye chanced to fall upon you. As you stood watching them, he checked himself suddenly. Ace looked round also, and both of them quickly bowed low. "Your majesty!"

"You know. You ought to stop fighting if you want to get this done," you mused. "Queen Rosehearts is coming, boys. Make sure to get that done or it's—"

You swiped your finger across your neck, hinting at what was to happen if the two didn't straighten up. "Off with your head."

The tweedle duo visibly tensed up. "Yes, your majesty!" They shouted, rushing back to paint the unblemished white roses. At this moment, Trey, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out: “The Queen is here!"

The people gathered by the entryway, and you looked round, eager to see your Queen. Murmurs and whispers spread through the crowd as the procession started.

First came a crowd of card soldiers, decked in military uniforms that were reminiscent of Heartslabyul's dorm uniforms. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, Cater was seated atop his horse, head stuck up high in the air. As he waltzed by, you could hear the murmurs and giggles of young women and men around you. Smiling, you shook your head as he winked at a flustered servantboy. 'What a charmer...'

Last of all, the trumpets blared an ear-piercing blow as the highlight of this grand procession came.

"His Imperial Majesty, His grace, His excellency, His Royal Majesty...The Red Queen, Riddle Rosehearts!"

The people round you bowed down yet you were rather doubtful whether you ought to lie down like them or approach the procession. So you stood still where you were, and waited. When the procession came by you, they all halted.

A moment of pure silence envelops the scene. Everyone in the garden gawked at you, placing you in a spotlight. A bashful smile came upon your face as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hi..?"

"Rose." Riddle muttered, shock radiating from his entire being. The scepter he'd been carrying was discarded on the floor carelessly as he surged towards you, dragging you into his arms. Gasping, you eagerly sank into his embrace as the surrounding crowd erupted in cheers. Riddle drew back and pressed his lips heatedly against yours, making you feel faint.

My, the Riddle in this world was certainly much more forward than the one in yours.

"Oh, my dear." Riddle swoons, raising your hands and pressing his lips against your knuckles. "Dearest, I've been worried sick. I thought you'd gone forever."

Heart melting, you whispered, "Well, I'm here now.", and traced the side of his face.

Riddle leaned against your touch; He tucked his arm affectionately into yours and pulled you in to join the procession.

As you soon noticed, you were walking by Trey, who was peeping anxiously at a paper.

"Hello, Trey" You greeted. "—where’s Che'nya?"

“Hush!” He said in a low, hurried tone. He looked anxiously over at Riddle who was preoccupied with adjusting the large bow to your dress. Trey leaned over, putting his mouth close to your ear as he whispered "Che'nya is under sentence of execution."

“What for?” You hushed, eyes wide as a plate. Trey opened his mouth to speak but before he could—you were pulled off into the croquet grounds by Riddle.

"What a lovely day for croquet. Don't you think, rose?" Riddle smiled, pressing his lips against your knuckles once more. He pulled you forward, chest flush against yours as his hands rest against your hips. Stammering, your cheeks burned up at his bold affections. "O-Oh! Yes! Very much! Though I don't know if I have the energy for a game right now."

"Alright then. Feel free to rest a while." Riddle seats you down a round table filled with pastries. Riddle discards his cape, revealing the handsome the 3-piece suit he had underneath.

The queen plucks a rose from a nearby bush and nips away its thorns. He presses a fleeting kiss against your lips whilst threading the rose into your hair. "Stay here, dearest. I'll be back."

ACT VII: OFF WITH HIS HEAD

Well...the croquet game wasn't going so well. The players all played at once without waiting for turns, overeager to get Riddle's attention. They quarreled all the while and ran around scrambling for the hedgehogs and flamingos.

It was complete anarchy.

The very thing Riddle hated.

In a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went shouting “Off with his head!” or “Off with her head!” roughly once every minute. You become overwhelmed in the midst of this mayhem and fled to the safety of the banquet table. There weren't many individuals present. Only a few people lingered and loitered around.

Pouring yourself tea, a hand suddenly wraps around yours as purple mists surrounds you. A second later, a grin appears. "Hello, your majesty."

"Che'nya!" Now fully visible, the cat stops smoking his hookah and blows smoke in your face. "We meet again."

Coughing, you swat the smoke away. "Ufh— Y-Yes! How are you?! I heard you were sentenced to be executed!"

"Oh yes," Che'nya yawned, resting his head atop the banquet table. "I escaped the guards. Queen Rosehearts didn't like it when I took his crown."

"You took his crown?!" You screamed out a little laugh and Che'nya grinned madly. "Yes~ Oh, you should've seen his face when he realized it was missing! It was like a strawberry about to explode! Ah—but you seem quite down. What is the matter?"

“It's the croquette game,” You began, in rather a complaining tone, “Everyone is quarrelling so dreadfully and Riddle's temper has exploded again.”

“Hmmm. Tell me, how do you tolerate the Queen?” said the Cat in a low voice. "Seeing that you're married to him and all, silly girl."

“Well, tolerate is a mean word. He's not all that bad,” You soothed, fiddling with the rose in your hair: "I think you’d take a fancy to him if you could only see just how caring he is."

"People will always look at their lovers with a love-tinted gaze." Che'nya purrs, leaning his head atop yours. "Prime example being you, silly girl~"

"How dare you speak to her that way."

Just then you noticed that Riddle was close behind you, listening. Jolting, you moved away from the cat and accidentally dropped your tea cup. The piece of china clattered to the ground, spilling its contents all over the green grass. Paying no mind to the mess, the queen pulled you towards him, protectively shielding you from the cat.

"I remember you. You're the thief. Tell me, how did you manage to worm your way in here?" Riddle pointedly snaps. "I'll have you know this breaks a rule in the—"

“A cat may look at a king,” interrupts Che'nya, smoking his hookah. "That is the only rule I've bothered to remember and I’ve read that in some rulebook, but I don’t remember which one. There's so many dreadful rules. How do you manage to memorize it all? Ah—apologies—I forget that you have such a big head."

With every passing comment from the cat, Riddle's fury simmered and grew anew. The cat looked up at the royal with a wide grin.

"You are brilliant and astute," he slurred, while Riddle neither acknowledged nor protested the remark. "Yet you are a tyrant and that rose of yours is a willing little sheep."

A deafening silence soon followed. The shock locked Riddle's bones together; a coldness seeping into his bones, making his skin feel akin to ice as his chest filled with hostility and ire. You felt a muscle underneath your throat tighten, but you gave both men a quick nervous smile and nudged Riddle to the side. "O-Oh darling, let's go somewhere else. Maybe you'd like to sit down? I-It's so hot and—"

"Sheep? A sheep you say?" Riddle barks, his hands clenched into fists—trembling at his sides. You wanted to calm him, but did not have the opportunity to do so as his voice cut through the thick tension in the air.

"Why it would be the very height of your arrogance to presume." Riddle seethes, pointing his scepter at the cat. The queen's eyes glowed an immense red, magical energy swirling around him. "As punishment for your crimes...it's off with your head. I'm going to tear your head off with my bare hands if I have to."

"You can try~" Che'nya grinned.

The Cheshire cat lunged towards Riddle, tossing the queen's scepter away. It all moved so quickly that your eye could barely follow the sudden shift of repressed anger to outright violence.

They had gone down to the grass together, knocking the banquet table over, spilling the pastries and tea to the ground. Riddle sagged him by the shoulders, fist smashing against the cat's face. Che'nya's lip had split, and drops of blood fell onto the lawn like the strawberry jam of smashed tarts.

In the midst of the fight, a glimmering object in Che'nya's hands caught your eye. You saw him grab a stray knife, pastel blue frosting still spread on it, and the sight of it shocked you into action.

"NO!"

ACT VIII: THROUGH THE WINDOW

"NO!" You scream, half of fright and half of anger, and kicked your legs around. Startling yourself awake in a fit, you found yourself lying on top of a clinic bed, limbs soaked in sweat—the smell of alcohol and anti-septics sobering you up. "Wh-What?"

All of a sudden, warm hands cupped your damp cheeks. You met Riddle's worried gaze as he wiped your tears away. The dorm leader slipped into the chair next to your bed, pushing you to lie down. "It's just a nightmare, dearest."

Your gaze flitted around the room, stopping once you saw something shimmering on your bedside table. The tiara was discarded to your side; Its once luminous blue gem was now gone, leaving an empty space in its wake. Looking down, you found yourself in your paint-stained uniform, skin feeling awfully crusty from the dry paint.

'It was just a dream...?' you ponder.

"What's the matter? Please tell me what's wrong." Riddle fussed over your disheveled appearance. Your face perspired with sweat and your hair was a tumble about your shoulders; He combed it with his fingers, careful to not pull at any tangles and knots. "Rose? Dearest? Are you alright?"

No, you wanted to say. It was hard to breathe, and there was a thick, unpleasant feeling weighing down your heart. It made your head spin. Riddle ran a hand up and down your back as you took a deep, shaky breath, trying to reorient yourself. Despite the apprehension in your chest, you gave a single nod to your worried lover. "Yes. I'm just shaken up."

"Love.."

"Everythings fine." You force out. Though, you’re really saying it to yourself. You can't stop the aching in your chest and you surely can't silence the echo of his ruthless words replaying in your mind.

"Oh, dearest." Riddle murmured, his heart breaking.

The redhead slips in bed with you, dragging you in the comfort and safety of his arms. He sighs in relief when you don't push him away, instead scooting over to press against him. The smell of his cologne invades your senses, grounding you as he rests his head against yours. "I am so sorry. I have been too hard on you."

"When Ace found you passed out in the forest, I was beside myself with anguish...." Guilt washed over his face. The dorm leader had no use for pride, not now when you were in this condition. He hopes that his apology, meager though it has been, will be enough.

"Had-Had I known you were sick, I wouldn't have been so—I deeply apologize. I should not have let my anger get the best of me. I was a fool to get so heated over something as simple as spilled paint. I hadn't even checked if you were alright." Riddle mutters.

"I'm sorry too. Though, I'm just glad it's over." You breathed out, resting against his chest. Then you regarded him with a pointed stare. "Humph. You have to make it up to me, though."

"Of course. Thank you, rose." Riddle hesitates for a moment and then, brazenly, leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“Oh! How bold~” You tease with a wry grin, giggling madly like a Victorian lady who just held hands with her lover for the very first time. Riddle flushes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Shaking his head, he composes himself, coughing into the sleeve of his shirt. "Am I not allowed to show you affection?"

"Oh no, I adore it." Chuckling, you reached out your hand, and Riddle eagerly took it. He pressed his lips against your forehead as you stared out the window in front of you.

While the sun sank, the sky was tinged with bleeding reds and violets. You spent the next several minutes wondering whether what you'd just witnessed was truly a 'dream' when you saw a strange appearance in the air. That baffled you at first, but after observing it for a minute or two, you realized it was a sharp toothed-grin.

Sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off was Che'nya. When he smoked his hookah and blew smoke about himself, a purple magical mist encircled him. The Cheshire cat grinned at you with a split lip before fading away.

How curious.

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