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peachesofteal · 4 months

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Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting.

You should leave. You should run.

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family.

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here.

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river.

He’s still wearing the mask.

“Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this?

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone.

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby.

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them?

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now?

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know?

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts.

She’s safe now. She’s here.

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose.

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who?

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket?

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately.

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere?

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised.

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death.

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 5 months

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Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 3 months

Text

title: dancing in the rain

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: slight, baby angst/ major fluff

pairing: Alastor x Reader

summary: all hell had was acid rain, and all you wanted was the rainstorms you knew on earth.

Rain hardly ever was an occurrence in Hell. And when it was, it was acid rain. You sighed, looking out the window and watched the green acid pouring down on everything, missing desperately the rain storms that you had on earth. Being the youngest at the hotel, you remembered more clearly the burn of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze on a fall day and even the mix of the humidity in the air that felt like it would choke you but the reprieve as a rainstorm came and fell from the heavens.

“What has you so melancholy, my dear?” A voice asked behind you, shockingly quiet all things considered, toning down the announcer quality in his voice.

“Hey Alastor, just thinking is all.” You replied and smiled at him, not wanting to explain that the acid rain made you sad.

“Now, whatever it is that you’re thinking about is casting a dark shadow over your usually lovely face. So, tell me, what’s wrong? What kind of hotelier might I be if I didn’t ensure that all the patrons here were happy?” He said, the announcer tone coming back into his voice, which made you wince. Knowing that meant he knew you were lying so he was going to put on a show if you were. You sigh.

“It’s the rain.” You explain.

“The what now?” He asks, all effects gone from his voice except shock and a bit of confusion.

“The rain. I miss the rain. Not this rain. The rain on earth. The smell of the earth after a good rain storm, the way that especially in the summer when it was so hot, the rain was a cool reprieve. It always felt like…” You trailed off.

“Forgiveness?” Alastor finished, looking outside the hotel now too. You blink and look up at him.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t read minds?” You chuckle, resting your head on your hand. You suddenly feel his microphone tap your head. You look up at him as holds his arm out to you.

“Come with me.” He says, not giving you time to feel confused. As when you take his arm you shadow travel with him to the other side of the hotel appearing at the door of his room.

“This is your room.” You say, confused now.

“Ever observant. A skill many would kill for I’m sure.” He smiles at you, but the sarcasm is evident as he holds open the door for you and you step into his room.

“Just a certified Sherlock Holmes.” You roll your eyes, taking his sarcasm.

“I never had the chance to read those books.” He mused for a moment, as he shut his door and walked around you heading to the forest area. You stayed near the door.

“I have the collection if you’d like to borrow it and read them.” You explain. “They are annotated though, so you’ll have to put up with my notes.” You explain.

“That would be lovely, dear.” Alastor says stepping on the grass and you watch as he takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat rack that appeared suddenly. He turns to you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I-I guess?” You say, more like a question. You jog over to him and start walking next to him. “Are you killing me in your forest because I complained about acid rain?”

“Oh, no. Not you at least.” Alastor chuckles. “I want to show you something.” You look up at him skeptically.

“Hey Alastor, can you take smaller steps?” You ask having to jog to keep up with him. He looks down and hums seeing how you were almost running next to him.

“Good to know that if I had to catch you I could do so without breaking a sweat.” He says, as he walks slower and taking smaller steps, allowing you to actually walk, instead of run.

“Har har.” You say deadpanned and roll your eyes. You walk into a clearing that has a cabin in the middle. The whole forest felt like it was shrouded in the twilight of fall when lightening bugs gently floated around and the sky was a perpetual shade of blue, purple and pink. You finally looked up and around, seeing the trees, the bugs, the animals, the sky. Tears formed in your eyes. “Alastor, this is beautiful. It looks just like-“ You stop, your throat constricting as emotion overtakes you. You feel Alastor’s clawed hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just like earth?” He finishes, speaking softer than you had ever heard. You nod and look at him, watching him take everything in and then looking down at you.

“Come, let me show you something else.” He says, walking away and heading to the cabin. You walk in and suddenly feel at home. The decor is a little dated and you feel transported to the 1920’s, but it’s all homey. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a lounge and a hall way leading to what you assumed to be a bed room. You walk through the living room, taking it in but trying not to pry at the photos Alastor had in frames along the mantel of the fire place, you see at the back door there is almost like a deck, with a more modern porch swing.

“The porch swing is a nice addition.” You mention, smiling a bit at the modern accessory in what felt like a time capsule.

Alastor chuckles as he sets his microphone down and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He joins you next to the window. “You haven’t seen the best part.” He murmurs, unusually quiet and reserved. You don’t mention the change in demeanor though, wanting to savor the quiet and this almost more authentic view of the Radio Demon.

“What’s the best-“ You stop when you hear it. The start of a pitter patter of rain on the roof, that builds and when you look outside, it’s raining. “Is that?” You blink a few times.

“It is. Safe for you to touch as well. You won’t get hurt.” He smiles a genuine looking smile as he goes over to the record player and starts playing music. Your hand touches the door, feeling the coolness of the water slide down the glass pane. You can’t stop yourself as Alastor fiddles with the record player, you open the door, quickly closing it so no rain would get in the cabin and rush outside off the deck. Twirling in the grass as the rain poured down soaking you.

“What are you doing?” Alastor yelled from the door, watching you like you had gone mad.

“Dancing in the rain!” You yelled back, a smile feeling permanent on your face.

“You’ll catch a cold, get back inside!” He says, looking up at the sky and then back at you.

“No! Come join me! It’s amazing! This is exactly what I remember.” You say holding you hand out to Alastor. His smile looks more like a grimace as he takes you in looking like a wet dog. He looks back inside and waves his hand at something and you see towels appear and the record player is louder so you can hear it outside. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them neatly at the door but far enough away that when you come in, water or mud won’t get on them.

He walks out getting drenched almost immediately as you run up to him and grab his hand and pull him on the grass. You take both his hands and start trying to spin around in a circle with him, as you see his eyebrow raise. You stop and look at him, a little disappointed when he doesn’t spin with you and you start to let go of his hand, until his hand tightens and pulls you to him.

“We can dance in the rain, but we will be actually be dancing.” He says as he proceeds to guide you through a dance that was popular when Alastor was alive, morphing into an odd mash up of a swing dance and you dancing like you were at a rave. You both settled down and were now just slow dancing as the song had turned a bit slower. You watched as Alastor’s eyes were closed as his face angled up to the sky. You made a spit second decision, and rested your head on his chest, really it was like the start of his abdomen but it was as tall as you could reach. You didn’t see his head snap down to you and watch as you seemingly relaxed in his arms, drunk off the warmth he gave and the cool from the rain still coming down. His hand moved up, and grabbed your chin, encouraging you to look at him. As you did, you saw his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly.

“I’ve never… done anything like this before.” He says quietly, and it breaks the fogginess you felt before.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just me.” You say, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Just you? Darling, just you is enough to have me go to war.” Alastor murmurs and then his eyes widen again, shocked. You realize that he is just blurting things out and there is no filter. You smile.

“Well, I’m honored that the Radio Demon would want to be in my corner.” You say as your hand reaches up to touch his cheek, stopping just a few centimeters away, allowing him to close the gap if he wanted to. He leans into your touch shaking his head.

“Not the Radio Demon, dear. Just Alastor.” He says, looking at you with a vulnerability you had never seen before. Your eyes widen and you smile.

“Even better.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor altruist #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor fanfiction

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headspace-hotel · 11 months

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Minecraft 1.20 thoughts:

The highlight is, of course, the cherry blossom grove biome and cherry trees. The cherry wood just looks SO GOOD with everything. I've made so many builds incorporating it already and it's so easy to work into a color scheme. Cherry wood. Hhhhhnnnnghh. Such a delicious shade of pink. I want to eat it.

Also really excited about the bamboo wood set, it looks amazing and adds a lot of functionality to bamboo.

Feeling pretty positively about the armor trims, though I wish there were more where the decorative material was more dominant in the color scheme.

Trail ruins and archaeology: Mixed feelings. I think archaeology is a fun mechanic, I like exploring the trail ruins, but they really, really turn inventory management into an absolute nightmare.

There are many different varieties of pottery sherds, I think at least 20. Sherds of different types do not stack. There are 4 armor trims that can be dropped by suspicious gravel in trail ruins. Trims of different types do not stack. The trail ruin structures themselves include many different varieties of terracotta and glazed terracotta, (at least 6 different colors of each) and—you guessed it!—each type stacks separately.

Additionally, suspicious gravel in trail ruins may drop any of several colors of candle (I have found red, purple, green, brown, and blue candles) and any of several colors of glass pane. The process of digging the ruin out will fill your inventory with at least 6 stacks of gravel as well as a lot of dirt, coarse dirt, cobblestone, and flint.

To top it all off, unless you want to enchant your brush with Unbreaking, you will need to carry multiple brushes because the brush breaks before the ruin is fully cleared.

Even with multiple shulker boxes clearing a ruin fully in one trip is impossible. What were the devs even thinking??? Are we expected to throw away the candles and other "junk" drops and ignore the glazed terracotta, mud bricks, and other tedious-to-obtain blocks in the structure itself?

This update shares with 1.19 the bizarre attribute of the devs supposedly being very focused on the player experience, while seemingly not noticing key parts of the player experience. The new mechanics and features in both have some incredibly fun and engaging elements to them but also some glaring problems.

I'm pretty much just indifferent to the clay pots? They would be more fun if they incorporated some basic colored patterns and/or actually could be used for something.

Changes to sign editing, and hanging signs are both fantastic.

The "Netherite Upgrade" is shit and I'm not sorry to say it.

Like...netherite is already so incredibly tedious and difficult to obtain that it's almost not worth bothering with. 4 ancient debris is needed to craft a single netherite ingot. You need 16 ancient debris to upgrade a full diamond armor set to netherite, and 8 more if you want to upgrade a sword and one pickaxe. If you don't have Mending on all of them, basically go fuck yourself, because from that point you will need multiple netherite ingots to repair a piece of equipment in the same way you would need multiple diamonds to repair diamond equipment. All of this for a set of equipment that will be fucking gone if you die and can't recover it.

And yet the devs have decided to??? fucking...add a generic, painfully uncharismatic new item to provide another barrier to obtaining netherite gear? because it's too easy or something???

I haven't broken into the other new additions very much, but I will try to obtain a sniffer egg soon...

#minecraft #minecraft 1.20 #mineblr

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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what you heard — part two.

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer. part two of this fic.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is dating a man, mentions of cheating, mentions of weed, men being annoying, smutsmutsmut, brief mention of violence. some angst? kinda. i guess. happy ending tho yay!

an: hi! it’s here! thank you for alllll the love on the first fic, i can’t believe how much people enjoyed it! i’m actually super proud of this one, my favourite thing i’ve written me thinks …… anyways yea! there will be no part three so pls don’t ask! ily ♡

It’s been a week. You haven’t spoken.

There’s blue-magenta behind your eyes. It swirls into contours and bubbles, recognisable sights beginning to take shape. Things go stark white, and then pale pink. Chartreuse fades in to khaki green into pale grey before you see a brick orangey red. You start to feel, aware of your senses. The brick becomes hair, and the hair tickles your neck.

You hear next, your own sigh. Your fingers press into an arm — your tight grip creates a white halo in their skin. You grip tighter, you have red fingernails now. You don’t remember getting them painted that colour. Half moons dust their skin from your touch. Freckles too.

A familiar feeling inside of you, that searing, hot, beautiful pressure in your groin. It feels good this time, not rushed and fast. Something smooth drags in and out of you, smoother than you’ve felt down there before. Something smells herby… herby and familiar, mixed with something else you can’t make out. The feeling builds, and you’re being touched all over with tender hands. Hands. A pixelated tattoo — not remembering the details.

The picture gets clearer, and you see your own smooth thighs. The freckle on the centre of one of them. They’re being pushed up rhythmically at the same time, a body slot between them. You see purple plastic now, coated and slick— and you realise you can hear yourself again. Loud, whiny, on the edge of… of something.

“Doin’ such a good job taking me, you look so pretty.” The echoey voice belongs to Ellie Williams and you look up to see her face. She’s wearing the grey hoodie she wore the last time you saw her. She looks the same down to her hair, but — wasn’t her eyebrow slit on the other eyebrow? You become more aware and it switches when you blink. How are you blinking? Fingers brush your clit and you gasp for air, skin on fire. “Better than your boyfriend, huh?” You were struck with euphoria, the sound of the ocean deafeningly loud, roaring monstrously in your ears. White noise. Nothing.

You gasped, and you were on your back still — but this time your room was dark, you were still wearing your clothes, and no Ellie. Your heart thumps, and your body reacts the same way it would as if you’d had a nightmare. You barely catch your breath, and the bed shifts beside you.

“Babe — makin’ so much noise. Woke me up, fuck.” The irritated grumble of your boyfriend. You don’t remember him sliding in beside you, and when your senses arrived back into your body, having been borrowed by the dream version of you, you were hit by the familiar and yet not at all comfortable stench of beer. Louis’ skin was pink and clammy under the moonlight peeking through your window and you felt that ugly feeling you’d been cursed with lately, disgust. It piled up inside your stomach like bile before washing away into the numb feeling of regret. He had gone to a party near by, a frat house — Delta something? Or was it Alpha? Clearly he couldn’t be all that bothered to walk back to his own dorm, staying with you instead. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him your spare key card. You push the thought away, and you try to like him again.

You squint in the low light, fully waking yourself up now. You shifted, thighs clattering into eachother with not much room, Louis taking up the bed. At the shift of your legs, you’re alarmed by the way your pyjama shorts cling to your hot, wet centre and suddenly you’re brought back to reality. You were having a wet dream about Ellie.

Guilty, your head turns to look at the man beside you. The room is filled by his deep heavy breaths, and the scratchy sound your hair made against the pillow when you turned your head. A small brown birthmark splotches on his bare shoulder, and you wonder if you squint, it could look like freckles. Reaching out, your fingers brush over it — and you are ejected from the moment instantly as he groans at the contact, rolling over. To add insult to injury, he thrusts a pillow out from beneath his head and shoves it between the two of you half awake. Message received.

You stare at the square tiles of your ceiling. Ellie Ellie Ellie. You wondered what she was doing right now, probably fast asleep. You lift your head quietly to look at your alarm clock, a bright red ‘02:55AM’ scalding your eyes. She could be at a party still, dealing. You pictured her there, hands stuffed in her pockets, wearing that cute khaki green windbreaker jacket that you secretly loved and her black jeans— her hair up in that messy half up bun. You don’t stop your cheeks from pushing up as you close your eyes, thinking of your new friend fondly. Your eyes felt heavier now, and you let yourself immerse into the fantasy, too sleepy to reject it or bare any guilt for daydreaming. You’re there at the party too, wearing something tight. Ellie notices you right away, eyes flickering over you in that way she has about her which is somehow equally loserish and confident. You walk over to her, and you’re too tired to fathom a conversation — but you’re not too drunk like you were last time, and there’s giggling and touching, and best of all Ellie isn’t looking at any other girls. She isn’t even focused on dealing anymore. She gives you all of her attention.

You fall asleep that way. You don’t dream of her, or anything for that matter for the rest of the night but the sleep is peaceful and you wake up well rested.

It’s 9:22AM when you wake up, and Louis is gone. Probably to make his 9AM lecture, turning up still drunk which you’re sure was absolutely hilarious to him and his friends, whilst the professor was probably hoping he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rub your eyes, and that nagging feeling in your chest kicks in.

One could truly never appreciate those first thirty seconds after you wake up. Still dreamy and disorientated, no anxiety, no worries — just bliss. Until you remember the current affairs of your life, and your eyes open.

Your phone is cold in your hand when you reach over and take it off charge, your free hand rubbing the sleep out your eyes as you suppress a yawn. Your stomach bottoms out, which is honestly sickening so early in the morning, as your eyes immediately land on a text from Ellie herself. Oh God, please tell me I didn’t reach over and text her in my sleep about my daydreams. It was unrealistic, but you definitely wouldn’t put it past yourself lately. You feel a blossom of disappointment bloom below your rib cage when you read ‘30% off for my fav custys. Blue dream, Purple haze, OG Green Kush. Get at me. Can do pick up or delivery tonight 📢🧟‍♀️’ Just another mass text, after all — Ellie was a business woman.

You swipe back onto your lockscreen, and chase the red ‘1’ symbol besides the Instagram logo, following it all the way to your DMS. Oh? Oh.

You see the first few words of the message from the preview, and your stomach fizzes up like shaken pop.

‘hey girl, i know you don’t know me but this is weighing on my mind so i have to tell you. last night your boyfriend louis was at the party down at alpha phi and we made out a couple of times before going upstairs and having sex. i didn’t know he had a gf until afterwards bc someone told me and i feel really guilty. u deserve better babe! just thought i’d let u know. i’m so sorry!!!’

Right, okay. This is not how you thought your day would begin.

You sit up slowly, like you’re worried that if you sit up too fast you’ll freak yourself out. How could this happen? You knew Louis was a bit of a dick sometimes, but a cheater? He seemed kind of territorial around Ellie at that party if you remembered correctly. So why would he wanna cheat?

You stare at the wall. Cry, damnit. Cry!

You don’t. But maybe you’re in shock. You pick your phone up again and text the girl back, a simple ‘thank you, will dump him today’ which you admit sounded kind of casual and hilarious, but you truly didn’t know what to say. You wasn’t really sure what to do. Do you just go about your day as normal? No, you needed to dump him. Okay, yes. First order of business.

Not over text, no. You were classier than that — although he didn’t deserve more than a ‘bye loser!’ text followed by the blocking of his number. You squint outside at the sun, showered and got dressed, pulling another one of your many sundresses over your frame. Despite the nagging, nervous feeling in your stomach it felt like a normal day. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world.

You sat at your desk, staring at the wall. You’ll get up and go eventually you thought. You stayed in your room for hours.

4:47PM. No music in your earphones today, it didn’t feel right. Your mind was too loud anyways, you weren’t quite sure you’d even be able to hear the music over your thoughts. Your body was on autopilot as you walk. Louis should be getting out of his afternoon class in 13 minutes approximately, you’ll just wait for him outside and confront him there. Quick and easy.

But there’ll be people around, and you don’t want to make a scene do you? What if he’s with his friends and they all laugh at you? You figured it was more embarrassing for you than it was for him. What were you thinking getting involved with a frat boy? Of course he was going to cheat. The building that his class would be in was in sight now, footsteps quickening. Your heart was quickening now too, not with nerves but with anger. Anger at him. Anger at yourself, moreso. How did you let him cheat? How did you let it go on long enough for that to happen? Why didn’t you cheat first?

Your own thought sends you skidding to a stop. That’s… not you. You’re not a cheater. Regardless of what the person you’re dating does, it’s not right. Noise attracts you up ahead, and you see gaggles of students begin to leave the building — class having finished early. You don’t think, just dart left and keep walking. Away from the building, and Louis. Your feet start to hurt in your shoes from the way the soles of your feet are pounding against the bright concrete in the late afternoon sun. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I chickened out. Your brain screams at you and you’re already heading in the direction of the place that quiets your mind. You keep walking until you’re inside Ellie’s building.

There’s no time to think as you walk up to the beige door you knew too well, the familiar whiteboard pinned to it reading ‘Ellie’ in her slightly messy scribble, with ‘Knock first, assholes.’ scribed beneath it smaller. You do just that, you knock. After you do, you stand back — catching your breath from the stairs you took up there. You hadn’t even thought of what you were gonna say. Did you have money on you? Yes. You could just buy some of the weed she sent out the mass text about, and see where it goes from there. Solid plan.

You were too busy rehearsing what you were gonna say to realise that you hadn’t heard any movement from inside her room. An image of her fast sleep, drooling on her pillow napping crossed your mind and if you weren’t so wired up you’d maybe smile. You knock again, a little more timidly this time but feeling the same level of urgency. You tried to recall if she’d ever mentioned sleeping with headphones on? Your brows furrow, and just when you knock again — the door beside Ellie’s opens, a ginger guy wearing a jersey and sweatpants poking his head round to look at you.

“If you’re looking for Ellie I saw her go out earlier. She’s not in.” He rasped, and you’d realised that your knocking had perhaps woken him up from a slumber, instead of the imaginary Ellie who wasn’t in her room. You feel your heart drop a few centimetres before pattering against your chest in embarrassment, face feeling hotter than it already was.

“Oh, okay. Sorry if my knocking woke you up.” You cringe with a polite smile that he doesn’t return.

“She’s a dealer, you’re meant to text before you come over so this shit doesn’t happen.” He grumbles, before sulking back into his room — door closing. Your eyes widen— Jheez. Touchy.

You stare at Ellies door again, rolling your lips into your mouth as you thought. Maybe this was a good thing, fate even. You shouldn’t have come here. You should have just gone straight to Louis and dumped his ass like you originally planned— not run straight to your emotional-support-dealer who was complicating things enough as it is. You could have really done with smoking first though, you realised — which actually made your eyes glaze over with tears. Ellie’s weed was just behind that door.

You finally managed to peel yourself away, shamefully plodding back the way you came. You were halfway down the hall, when the door you were headed for opened — the sound of an oh so familiar laugh reaching your ears before your eyes found her. Ellie was walking along side Dina, the two chatting as your dealer searched her pockets for her keycard. There was a second or two when they hadn’t seen you yet, and you slowed down your pace — eyes raking over her. There was no reason for her to look so good, you almost felt like it was on purpose — hair in that classic half updo and an old white wifebeater clinging to her frame, black backpack on her back with simple black jeans and scuffed vans. You panicked, turning around hoping she wouldn’t see you, realised there was nowhere to run to, and spun back around to the two girls. When you did, they were already looking at you cautiously.

Dina looked at you, and then looked at Ellie, then back at you. Ellie called your name, pace slowing and you smiled sheepishly, praying the embarrassed and stressed tears threatening to spill would get sucked back into your eyes.

“Hey. Sorry I should have texted I was just…” Your eyes remove themselves from her, flying up to the ceiling so that the tears wouldn’t spill. You suck in a calming breath. Why now? Why was it all hitting you now? You glanced back at her just to see her face drop upon inspecting your state, and looked back at Dina.

“I’ll just grab the textbook from you later on, or you can bring it to me when you’re done — it’s chill.” Dina shrugged, and you could tell she was trying to be casual and polite despite it perhaps being an inconvenience to do so.

“Yeah. I’ll bring it.” Ellie nodded vigorously, like she were just about to ask her to do so. “I’ll see you later, D.”

Dina sent you a sympathetic smile before backing up towards the doorway, heading out. You fist at your dress uncomfortably, a silence settling over the two of you as you both watch her leave.

“Uh, come in.” Ellie speaks gently, in lieu of your frazzled state. She taps her keycard on the reader and opens the door, pressing her back to it to hold it open for you before closing it behind you. You watch the way she instantly makes herself at home like usual, kicking off her shoes dropping her backpack, sitting on the bed. You don’t move, just standing there in front of the door watching her. This really wasn’t meant to happen, therefore you had no time to mentally prepare yourself. Your brain was catching up, forcing you to dawdle and have an outer body experience in Ellie’s dorm.

“You… okay?” She raised an eyebrow, eyes flitting over the way you were gripping your sundress like it was going to fly off your body if you didn’t. You nodded, non verbal for a moment, eyes not meeting hers. You seemed to be coping fine before, but being around Ellie made you… vulnerable. Like you were worried that everything would just come out, word vomit all over your dress, and all your emotions were brought to the surface instantly by her calming nature. When you didn’t speak, she did. “You want pre-rolls? I got a couple, I dunno if you got my text.” She starts to reach for her backpack again. “Sorry I wasn’t here — you didn’t tell me you were coming so I—”

“Louis cheated on me.” You blurt and she freezes, ceasing to reach for her bag and reverting to the position she was sat on the bed before. Her face scrunches up a little.

“What?”

“Yeah— he…yeah.” There’s no emotion behind your words now, staring past her at the wall. Her eyes squeeze shut, scrambling for words for a moment as she pushes herself to stand.

“What did— how did you find out?” She exasperates, slowly stepping your way.

“I just woke up to a DM on Instagram from some random girl spilling everything, saying that she didn’t know he had a girlfriend and fucked him. She was really nice about it though.” You ponder, shaking yourself back to your senses. It felt more real now that you had said it out loud, which was kind of comforting in a way.

“Damn.” Ellie whispers, now stood right in front of you. Her fingers nervously graze your arm, wanting to comfort you. “I’m… really sorry babe.” Babe. You don’t have time to register the nickname as she takes action on her impulses, suddenly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You’re caught off guard, arms hovering for a moment before wrapping around her. You squeeze, and it feels good to be held by her. You nuzzle into her neck as she rubs comforting circles on your waist with her thumbs, your breathing synced up.

“I’m not.” It comes out muffled into her, and she pulls back slightly— warm breath wafting over your face as she stares down at you in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m…relieved. I don’t feel anything. I don’t… care.” You admit, brows furrowing in a way that made Ellie think you felt guilty for having this outlook.

“Maybe you’re in shock.”

“Maybe I just didn’t like him.” You quickly admit even quieter, like the two of you were having a whisper off. She stared at you, not able to help herself from glancing at your glossed lips, and wondered if you could feel her heartbeat speed up as your bodies were pressed so tightly together.

“No?”

“Maybe I… was already cheating on him in my head.”

Green light, Ellie thinks — infact she’d never known a light greener. She closes in on you, your back rebounding a little off the door, eyes locked in on eachothers lips. They nearly touch, the two of you exchanging a breath when a deafening knock sounds on the wooden door you were pressed against, making the two of you jump. Ellie pulls back, smiling sheepishly at your nervous giggle and she presses into you even more, bringing her eye to the view-hole over your head in the door to see who it was, expecting a customer. She pulls back, face to face and her eyes are wider this time, cheeks reddening.

“Think someone came lookin’ for you.”

Your own eyes expand, and you spin around to look through — a fisheye lens view of Louis stood there, stupid backwards cap on his head and meaty hands stuffed into his board-shorts as he obnoxiously chewed his gum.

Ellie’s heart swells for you when you spin around, looking at her desperately in a panic.

“Don’t wanna see him! I — I can’t. Not yet!” You whisper, breath shaking in your throat and she nods, a comforting hand on your arm rubbing for a moment as she pushes you into the crevice of the wall where the door would open on, hiding you. He knocks again, and you hear Ellie’s neighbour groan, angry footsteps thudding towards his own door through the wall.

“S’okay. Hey, s’alright. Fuck it— uh, I’ll see what he wants.” She nods at your worried expression, opening the door before her neighbour gets to him— boxing you in behind it. You had kind of hoped the sleep deprived neighbour would have gotten to Louis first, giving him a piece of his mind.

“Yo.” Louis greet, uninterested and you cringed, already wondering how you ever dated that. Ellie stared at him, waiting for him to ask about you. Waiting for her chance to chew him out. “Lemme get a half ounce. You got purple haze?” He sniffed.

“Looks like I’m fresh out.” You could hear the anger in Ellie’s voice just from the sight of him, which concerned you whilst equally validated you. She was blunt, tilt her chin up the way she did at that pool party, exuding confidence.

“Damn. What else you got?” He sighed, not seeming to pick up of Ellie’s raging ‘Fuck you’ vibe. She didn’t move to rummage her drawers or invite him in. She simply stood, unwavering. Staring. Borderline glaring, urging him to just get the picture that he wasn’t welcome here tonight. Or ever again, if she was being honest.

“Got nothin’ for you, man.” She held his gaze. He faltered now. Oh? Eyes flitting all around her face like he was trying to work out what her problem is. What did she know?

“You’re all out?” He flattened his voice just a bit more. A tone to his voice that said ‘Are you fucking with me?’

“Looks like I am.”

You heard him shuffling awkwardly, before kissing his teeth and stepping away. “Aight.”

There was no blow up, no gross attitude from Louis, no flip out from Ellie where she’d punch him in the face in your honour. He simply laid down and accepted that he was gonna be weed-less tonight, and fucked off. You peeked, watching Ellie continue to stare him down with her stony expression as he walked away before closing the door softly, revealing you behind it — cramped up in the corner. You looked dishevelled and wide eyed, having had to make an effort to not breathe, let alone speak. She felt her heart just… soften at the sight of you. In a way, you’d kind of resembled a scared stray kitten who’s run away from their big bad owner, and who better to take you in than a loving student with plenty of catnip?

She cleared her throat, stepping back and allowing you to move out of the cramped space behind the door.

“Just hearing him makes me mad.” You huff, walking over to her bed and plopping down on the end of it, defeated. She wipes her hands on her jeans, a little awkwardly — still recovering from your near kiss turned near confrontation.

“Yeah. Kinda took me everything not to kick his scrawny ass.” She shook it off, eyebrows jumping up as she envisioned the scene. You did too, something stirring deep within you at the vision of Ellie beating him, knuckles splattered with blood, angry grimace on her face. You shoo it away quickly, not wanting to indulge in that sick fantasy. You let out a non committal hum, dragging your eyes away from her.

“So did you want any weed? I can hook you up with something…” She took a step toward her black backpack that was slumped against the floor. You shook your head quickly, knowing she wouldn’t let you pay for it yet again given your state and well — as much as you adored free weed, you couldn’t do that to her twice in a row.

“No, no. I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to smoke, you know? Probably not the best idea.” You conversed, staring ahead as you took a long deep breath — feeling the slightest spark of what could be relief that things were finally over, despite the betrayal of being cheated on. You thought you had buried what you really wanted deep inside, turns out it was right on the surface the whole time. Was it that obvious to Ellie how needy you really were for her the whole time? You thought back to your near-kiss a few moments back, heat crawling up the back of your neck like the feeling of being flustered was submerging you in it’s lusty molasses. You realised she was saying nothing, just watching you as she swayed on her feet — nervously toeing at the carpet.

Shit, maybe you’d overstepped.

“Sorry — I can head out now. I don’t know why I ran here I just — I didn’t know where to go. Sorry.” You stood up and Ellie’s eyes enlarged, her own heart thumping as she tried to muster up the words to just speak. She was unprepared, she’d admit — this whole thing was not how she thought it would go down. She’d always imagined you banging on her door in the middle of the night, begging her to fuck you, something about Louis not being able to do it right, and she was the only one who could do the job. You’d be on eachother in an instant, limbs and moans, loud and messy, and afterwards— afterwards is when you’d have the discussion. She’d tell you that she can treat you better, and you’d say that you’d always wanted her. Not… this. This was slow, bordering on awkward. Come on Ellie, get it together.

“Hey.” It came out gentle, and almost like a Pavlov response to her tone, you calmed — eyes melting into a soft gaze as her hand grazed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “We don’t need to smoke to hang out. I’m cool to just… talk. If you wanna.”

So you did.

You talked, and in no time you were laughing away, problems seemingly forgotten as you laid side by side on the bed. Ellie had some kind of magic about her, a type that inspired time to stop when the two of you would hang out. You wouldn’t notice the sun going down outside the window, or the way your bodies would overtime shift closer and closer to eachother on the bed until your shoulders were pressed together. Your shoes were kicked off and the window was open — bringing a warm, balmy evening humidity into the dorm. At the dawn of summer, the warm and lethargic evenings were one of your favourite things about the season change. They were even better with Ellie, you thought.

“So, did it work?” She was smirking, the laugh clenching the back of her throat like she was on the verge of letting out a ridiculous school-girl giggle.

“Did what work? You can’t just start a sentence like that and expect me to know what you mean.” You picked up her brown stuffed bear from the bed and swat her with it— the memory of the last time you were in her room springing up. What went down on this very bed. Suddenly, you realised what she might have been talking about.

“Shut up.” She chuckled. “My handy tips and tricks. Did you ever get down to having a better time in the bedroom?” She wiggled her brows, the arm furthest from you coming up to rest behind her head as she turned slightly to look at you — face close enough to see the green speckles caressed by hazel in her limbal rings.

“Ellie.” You groan in embarrassment, covering your face (and more so, your sheepish smile.) The smile peeked from behind your palms anyway, and Ellie capsized onto her side, leaning on her elbow now with her own grin — caused by the adorable-ness of yours.

“S’just a question.” Her voice was gentle and flat in her deep drawl, pulling your hands away from your face with the help of her own fingers pulling it away. Her hand stayed on top of yours when you rested it on top of your ribs.

“Do I have to answer?” You squint and her mouth turned downwards in thought with a inattentive shrug.

“No.” That mischievous smile of hers crept back up. “But that won’t stop me from guessing your answer.”

You gaze down at her hand on top of yours. It was cold like it always was — having caught her touch through grazed fingers with a weed baggie between them and friendly arm caresses when running into eachother in public. You wondered how her hands were still cold, even in the smouldering warmth of her dorm. You avoid her smug gaze.

“Well what do you think?” You quieten your voice, smile still lingering as you wiggle your fingers beneath her palm, she squeezes your fingers with her own — pinning them down where they rest. Ellie thinks, briefly distracted by your hands flirting.

“Hm.” She pretended to think. “Maybe. You probably tried to help him, bein’ a good person n’all. But you know… what was it you said last time? You either got it or you don’t?”

You said nothing, considering her guess. She waited, for some kind of reaction giving away whether or not she was right or wrong. When it didn’t come, she prompt you.

“No?” Her thumb was on top of the back of your hand now, her other fingers tucked beneath your palm— her knuckles laying flat against your ribs. The touch being so close to your tits sent your mind reeling and it took you a moment to respond, her thumb just stroking slow languid circles on your own knuckles.

“Since that day I haven’t… me and him didn’t…” You admit, finally braving a glance up to her eyes. They’re intense, as inspected — flickering back up to your eyes from your lips, caught. “He wanted to, but… I didn’t want to even try anymore.”

“And whys that?” She rushed out, internally yelling at herself for the speed in which she prompted you. Patience Ellie, Jesus fucking Christ. You know where this is headed, and if you push too hard she’ll spook like last time. Be cool.

Your cheeks pushed up, and she assumes you’re fighting a giggle at her eager response. Luckily, you don’t mention it. “Lets say you wanted a sandwich…” You started. Okay, what the fuck. Where was this going?

“Uh— sure?”

“And there’s a sandwich store in your town. Their sandwiches… aren’t very good. You think, maybe I’m ordering the wrong sandwich. But all the sandwiches taste the same and they’re all… bad. But then a new sandwich place opens up down the street. The sandwiches look amazing, and everything about it is perfect. Would you keep going back to the bad sandwich store?”

Ellie squinted, slowly sitting up a little more with an exasperated expression as her brain caught up.

“You did all that… instead of just telling me that you couldn’t fuck Louis anymore because you wanted to fuck me?”

You burst into giggles. “I’m shy!” You whine, rolling away from her to face the wall beside her bed. She laughs heartily in disbelief, her hands coming to tickle your waist without a thought.

“Oh you’re shy?” She snickered through your squeals. “Fuckin’ Shakespeare over here — what sandwich store huh? No, really. I’m dying to know where that came from.”

You flipped to face her suddenly, her face unexpectedly close. You faltered, eyes dropping to her pretty, naturally red lips before pulling them away in order to get your words out. “It was the best way I could explain it, okay?”

“Alright, wordsmith.” She was not just smirking, but openly staring at your mouth now, so close her breath was tickling your nose.

“You’re so annoying.” You press your lips together, subconsciously hiding them in nerves.

“Yeah?” Kiss me. Kiss me before I fucking do it.

“Yeah. Always popping up in my dreams too.” You beam, leaning into her a little now. Please kiss me. And she nearly does, but your words hit her and her curiosity gets the better of her. Fuck. She pulls away a little, eyes boring back into yours.

“What dream? Tell me ‘bout your dream.” She’s whispering now, brow jabbing downward in curiosity. You sigh, eyes closing. Why would you bring that up? You drop your head back onto the pillow.

“I just… had these dreams. About you.” You open your eyes. There’s blu-tack stuck to her ceiling tile. Her finger almost makes you jump as it curls beneath your chin with the gentlest touch, turning your face back to look at her.

“What happened in these dreams? Hm?”

You suck on your bottom lip, taking the time to take in all her features. The way it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered, just the two of you laying close on this bed, backed into the corner against the wall. Your cunt was aching — you let yourself realise this now.

“We’d be here. Just like this.” You murmur, your own fingers running up her wrist to meet her hand where it cupped your chin. Her eyes followed your movements, glued to your baby pink fingernails. “We’d be laughing, and talking and suddenly… we’re kissing. And… you’re on top of me.”

Thank fuck for your sundress, Ellie’s eyes were truly blessed — dropping down shamelessly to your tits as they begin to push against the material, already practically spilling out from your compromising position. She realises that you’re drawing in a long breath, followed by shorter, wetter ones. You swallow, panting from the memory. Jesus fucking Christ loops around her head, bouncing off the walls of her brain in an echo-chamber of horny. What next? What happens next?

“And then you’re… pushing into me and it feels good. Better than… better than he could ever make me feel. And you’re telling me I’m pretty… and how good I’m doing… just like you said you would.” You’re even quieter, but your words couldn’t be louder to Ellie. She’s tormented, wanting you to finish off your story, the tale of your dirty dreams — but equally wanting to cut it short by shutting you up with her mouth on yours. Decisions, decisions.

Your brows are furrowed, your hand sliding her hand down to your throat— just pressing it there. Maybe for comfort, maybe just to feel her touch. Likely because it’s turning you on. She can feel your pulse thrumming violently against your skin. Ellie’s eyes are all pupil. Is that your heartbeat or mine?

“And I cum.” You grin slowly in disbelief, eyes glazed over completely like you’ve been crying, brows still pinched in that endearing furrow. “I actually cum. And it’s so good. Because it’s you. And only you can—”

Fuck it.

Her mouth is on yours in an instant, swallowing the surprised whimper when she rolls over to hover over you, her knee pressed between your legs. Her tongue introduces itself to yours quickly, the wet muscles sliding over eachother in greeting like they were old friends. Her hand still cupped your throat where you had guide her and she could barely think, her body on pure primal autopilot. Ellie liked to think she was fairly experienced, but shit — it’s never felt like this before.

Her hands are everywhere. You’re trying to count them because you’re sure — certain even that you can feel more than two sliding over you, pushing your dress further up your thighs, kneading your warm, plush breasts. Your legs are falling open wider, like her tongue had reached a spot in your mouth that had triggered you to just go limp, and with the movement her knee presses up just a little more snug against your hot cunt. You shift on it, on instinct and the friction of it just… you moan.

Ellie can’t help but notice how relieved it sounds, and she wants to coo at you, chuckle and tease you about being sooo pent up, because little Louis couldn’t find that pretty clit. But she couldn’t drag her mouth away from you, having journeyed right down to your neck, sucking and biting— marking you. You belonged to her now, and there was no doubt about that. You couldn’t go back on yourself now, no. Not with Ellie all over you.

You kept shifting on it, experimentally grinding your pantie-clad pussy against her jean covered knee. You don’t even recall ever being in this position with Louis, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, huffing out your nose. Get that man out of your head, before he ruins the mood.

You let out another quiet mewl, and God — Ellie just had to pull away and look at you. Just a little bit, just close enough to still be breathing hard into each-other’s mouth. When your eyes fluttered open, she swore she could have died right there. You look flushed, pupils blown out with that needy look in your eye. As the moment settled in, hips still weakly bucking against her knee and hands desperately grabbing at her shoulders — Ellie felt a small tremor beneath your body, like a tiny earthquake had occurred right below you. It travelled up your body, falling out of your mouth in the language of a trembling gasp. Were you…?

Ellie grinned, proudly — brows knit as if to say ‘awwww’. And then she did say it, mouth running without permission from her brain. “Aw, you’re shaking.” She whispered, like it was a secret being shared at a sleepover. You weren’t your usually giggly self now, getting shy on her and turning away — you just wet your lips, tilting your hips for more and pulled her back in to kiss.

Ellie’s hand were pulling at your dress before she remembered to ask, so she slowed down hoping you’d say something. As she peeled away the fabric, dragging your straps down your arms her lips followed, pressing chaste kisses to the warm skin. You sighed at the feeling, melting into her bedsheets and Ellie tugged just that bit harder, your tits free from the dress now that bunched around your waist. The dealers eyes were on them, and then on your face, and then back to your tits when she remembered she was actually allowed to be looking at them this time. Her hands followed, doing what she’d always dreamt of.

The coldness of her palms brought your nipples to a peak and you wanted to roll over and hide again, but you couldn’t — because Ellie was dragging her spread hands up your ribs and grabbing the fat of your tits and it just felt too good. Felt good to be appreciated, analysed, borderline worshipped as Ellie dragged her thumbs over your nipples making a low whine fall from your throat accidentally.

“Shit, babe.” She breathed in disbelief, looking up at you once more and retreating to drop a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You this pretty everywhere?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all— arching your chest into her touch. She gave them a firm squeeze before reluctantly pulling away to continue on her journey down your body, her mission to get your dress completely off still in full pursuit.

She immediately dives in to press a pouty kiss between your tits as soon as she can, letting her top lip drag slightly as she trails her lips downwards to your stomach. Don’t rush this, Ellie — she thinks, and for a moment she fears she accidentally said it out because you giggle. She looks up at you, a little wide eyed in confusion at your dazed titter. Her hands are curled around your sides now, thumbs resting on your rib cage, and your hand is creeping up the back of her head to caress the soft hair there.

“Tickles.” You mutter and she grins wolfishly, shaking her head ever so slightly as she gets back to it. A little impatiently, she tugs the dress down your hips, the material straining ever so slightly before she can slide them down your legs. You help her, kicking the material up and off and hearing it flump onto the floor beside her bed.

She was hungry now, closer and closer to what she wanted but her laser focus was on proving herself. You deserved to feel good, and that’s exactly what she was gonna give you. She needed to show you that she was the better option, that she could look after you right. Her hands were pushing your thighs open now, her face flushed and desperate as she pressed kisses to the inside. She hadn’t even spared a glance at your underwear yet, couldn’t even tell you what colour they were — just fixated on sucking marks into your skin, making sure that the dark purple were visible when she’d pull away with a pop.

Embarrassingly so, you bucked your hips against nothing— the stretch of material spread over your clit just barely grazing the button. You understood perfectly what her game was, she’d bet you’d never been teased before and she was right — but right now you needed her touch, after so long you just needed her.

“Please.” You finally let out as her hands stroke the crevices of your thigh crease, light fingers that tickled you enough to make you buck again. Her nose pressed against the skin beside the lacy leg hole of your underwear as she pressed a firm kiss there.

“Please what.” She didn’t even stop to look at you.

“Please t—ouch me.” You shudder, words nearly cut off half way through. She stops then, eyes wide like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, before dragging them down to your panties. A soft pink, the outline of your fat lips spread due to the way she’d parted your thighs, the material stuck to them — creating the clear shape. What really caught her eye, was the growing darkness through them — soaked through from just her kisses and caressing. Confidence surged through her once again.

Her two front teeth grazed her bottom lip, bringing them down as if planning to say ‘Ffffuuuckk’ but it died on her tongue, just the ‘Ffffff’ sound whispered out. You watched her pupils double in size, and when she looked back up at you her lids were heavier.

“S’all for me?” She cooed, in this sickly sweet voice that made your fogged brain nearly not pick up on the fact that she was mocking you ever so slightly. You let out a shaky breath, and she didn’t take her eyes off you when she leant back in, pressing a soft and loving kiss over the fabric — right where your clit would be. She watched you then, jaw gaping and brows knitting, she even heard your toes clenching hard behind her because of the way the bed covers shifted. She remembered something being said about you liking when the other person took charge, and she wondered how far she could milk you into that space. How much could she force you to just let go and let her do all the thinking?

“S’right baby, just relax up for me yeah? You’re all tense.” She smoothes a hand over your tummy and Jesus, that was easy — you’re nodding furiously, body tensing and untensing a few times, actively trying to get yourself to follow her command. That’s okay, she thinks — we’ll get you there.

She starts pressing kisses around your panties again, your widened thigh crease, the spread lip peeking out from the material, along the waistband. She hears you breathing hard without looking up. Poor thing, must’ve really been unsatisfied to get this worked up so soon. Her own finger comes up to drag up and down your slit through the material, the plumpness of it having swallowed some fabric into its crease. You feel more arousal seep out of you when her finger tips circle around your clit and press down ever so slightly.

“Teasin’ me.” You manage in a strained whisper, trying to widen your legs even more. Your ankle hangs off the bed.

“Mhm.” She goes back in, pressing kisses to below where she was touching, her nose doing the work in nudging your button. She got to work, her tongue sliding out and licking up the juices that had seep through the soft pink material. You tasted just like she imagined, a little tangy and salty sweet— making saliva collect at the base of her tongue to roll down and soak you more.

The moans were flowing freely when she wrapped her toned arms around your thighs, bringing you down onto her mouth more. Through your hazy mind, you don’t quite recall ever getting to see her arms like this — and you’re just now noting how much muscle she truly had. For someone with a cocky side, she had to be pretty humble to hide them. It made the submission creep up more, the idea that she could do anything she wanted to you bouncing around your brain that was quickly emptying itself like an egg timer.

Ellie looked starved, practically unhinging her jaw to gather the saliva and arousal soaked material in her mouth and use the point of her tongue to push you where you needed her. The friction of the material between her and your clit rubbed against you in all the right ways, and just when you felt yourself drifting off into that hazy relaxed space, the same one you felt when you’d just woken up — your stomach involuntarily tensed and curled with something devastating building up. Surely not, surely Ellie wasn’t about to make you cum through your panties.

You let out a pathetic and almost fearful whine as your hand shaped itself into a claw at the back of her head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull her away. You didn’t even think you’d be able to, her head moving vigorously with her face buried in your covered crotch. Ellie wasn’t planning on eating you out through your underwear to the point of making you cum, but as soon as you signified that there was a chance she could? It was game. Ellie was competitive by nature, and sometimes that even meant competing with herself. Bet you can’t do it, she taunts herself— and as she pins down your bucking hips that smug voice in her head responds. Bet you can.

You shake, pressing her face in further as you hit a peak — stomach clenching the same way it does when you ride a drop-coaster, seemingly plummeting to the ground on rickety tracks. Your cunt burned and ached as she frantically mouthed at your clit through the thin fabric, tongue working you in such a frenzy that you were certain if she went for any longer she’d burst a hole in the material and get to the real thing. You felt your warmth gush out, the entirety of your panties now three shades darker in colour due to yours and Ellie’s joint attack.

Her teeth scraped over your covered clit as she pant for her own breath and you jerked, oversensitive — prompting her to detach her mouth, instead choosing to rest her cheek above your waistband, pressing breathless kisses to the skin she could reach.

“Ohmy—gosh.” You whisper in the shape of a whine and she looks up at you again, a sheen of wetness around her chin and mouth from her own saliva and what had snuck through the fabric. Her thumb strokes your waist soothingly, a chuckle slipping past her lips.

“That was cute.” Was all she said and you felt the heat burn your cheeks once more. Whilst you were distracted, breathless love stuck smile hidden by your clammy palms she took the opportunity to peel your panties to the side, looking at what she’d created. She let out a warm sigh that brushed over your glistening mound, entranced by pretty much the most perfect pussy she’d ever laid eyes on. Your folds were sparkling in your own juices and she could see the way it trailed beneath you having dripped down from your leaking hole. A string of arousal still remained attached to the underwear she’d pulled aside, and she wanted to explode. She placed two thumbs either side of the lips, pulling you apart a little more and you ripped your hands away from your face to watch — a feverish whimper leaving you from her touch. “So fucking pretty. ‘My god.” She sighs, pink tongue licking a stripe of you bottom to top, savouring in your taste— now unfiltered and louder on her tongue with nothing between the two of you. You let out a sob, still a little sensitive and your knees come up beside your chest, hand trembling on her head. She sucks on your clit, directly this time and it gets too much, your thighs attempting to crush her head like a watermelon. She removes her thumbs from beside your cunt to slam her hands quickly into the back of your thighs, pushing herself deeper into you as she shoves your thighs up, keeping you open. She hums against you threateningly and you cry, burbling out her name and a load of nonsense.

“ElsEllie—Ell—ie— s’too much I’m— already—” you try but it barely makes it’s way past your lips. She pulls away with an obscene pop, choosing to pepper kisses to your pubic mound instead and looking up at you warningly.

“Just take it pretty girl, gotta be brave about it yeah?” Tough love, because she’s desperate to taste you just a little longer. You’re about to protest, something along the lines of ‘give me a breather’ or ‘wait a minute or i’m gonna cum again too fast’ when you feel the coarse pads of her fingers slide up beneath her mouth, applying just enough pressure to the skin around your clenching hole to silence you.

She just rubs, massages the area, attacking your clit with her tongue once more. The movements are more precise, more pointed — the tip of the muscle circling around your button dizzyingly before you feel her middle finger dip into your hole ever so slightly. “Let me have you baby, let me in.” She whispers on you and you’re nodding, against your will, head thudding back into the pillow and nipples pebbled like you wouldn’t believe. You can have me. You can have me forever if you keep eating it like this.

She sinks her finger in, and you go against your brain and squeeze hard against it— like— if she were wearing a ring you’d be able to pull it off, that’s how hard you squeezed. “Hey.” Was all she whispered, a line appearing in her forehead when she looked at you, the trace of something sterner behind her expression. “Not going anywhere sweetheart, loosen up for me.” She stroked your thigh and you whimpered, doing your best.

“M’sorry” you shivered and she forgave you by kissing your clit again, beginning to drag her finger outwards. Not long after, her other finger joined and you went blind for a moment when they pressed up against something soft and spongy.

“Theeeere she is.” She spoke, more to herself as you hiccuped, hands clutching yourself now, self soothing because holy hell — you’d never felt like this before. Not even by yourself. “Thats it baby, good girl.”

You squeezed again at the praise. Good girl. You’d been waiting for it, anticipating your favourite words from all of your fantasies and it sounded better than you could ever have imagined coming from her Texan drawl. She smiled, like she knew — and tsked at you tensing again. From the fresh tidal wave of arousal dripping out of you from her words, your pussy all but squelched when she started to move her wrist again, grinding against that special spot. “S’talking to me, pretty. You liked that huh? Like bein’ good for me?”

You knew she had it in her— but damn— Ellie really knew what she was doing. You swore if she had dared to call you a good girl in a more casual setting before today, you might have just folded and become the cheater you swore you’d never be.

“Mhm!” Was all you could get out as you found her rhythm, working with her as you rolled you hips down on her fingers. Your chest burned with that sappy feeling — admiring the way she really did know how to look after you and give you exactly what you need. You needed to feel closeness again, and you called her name. “Ellie!”

“Yeah.” She cooed in a deep groan, lazily mouthing at you. She drew back for a moment and you thought she would give you what you wanted, but instead she went above and beyond, spitting on your clit before chasing it up with the flat of her tongue. You gasped, threatening to cut the circulation off in her fingers again.

“Ellie.” You sobbed more urgently, mouth actually downturned now like you couldn’t help from actually crying — hot tears resting in the space below your eye. The tone caught her attention and she looked up.

“Whats up baby? You feelin’ good?” Her voice was high and sympathetic, making you push your bottom lip out — trying to gather her thoughts as she continued to press you, fingers grinding inside your gummy walls.

“Yeah. Need to— need to kiss you.” You sniffle and she’s pouting back at you, instantly pushing her body up without taking her fingers out your cunt. Not that you’d let her, sucking them in desperately.

“Okay baby, alright.” She murmurs, getting herself situated on her elbow and bringing her mouth down to yours. You moan when you kiss her, mainly because she gave into your craving of her, but also because you could taste yourself all over her tongue. “Cantastethatright? Tastesgood” It’s muffled by your own lips as she speaks against them, not letting her pull back enough to speak clearly as your need to kiss her had become insatiable. You have no choice however, when you feel the pit of your stomach crying out in familiarity once more at the intense feeling.

“Ohmygod— gonna cum ‘gain Ellie. Oh Ellie!” She recalls you almost sound frightened, like you just can’t believe that someone could make her cum once, let alone twice.

“Yeah? Gonna give me another one?” She pulled away from you so that she could look at you, hand cupping up to thumb at your cheekbone so that your gaze remained on her as she did. Your eyes grew wild and desperate, wet and weak as you tried to be good for her and keep them open. “Thats it, beautiful. God— m’so fucking lucky. Just needed me to take care of you isn’t that right? That’s it baby, that’s my good girl. Take what you deserve.” You can barely hear her at this point, drowned out by the roaring white noise blasting your ears once more, your own moans a backing track. Her lips were at your temple, dropping encouraging kisses but you weren’t there. You’d floated up past her ceiling tiles, no longer a person. Yeah. That fucking good.

You came back to your body, eventually — you’re not sure when you left and when you returned but you could feel now, your own hand shooting out of its weak trance to grip her wrist and cease her movements. “El” You rasp weakly and she slows.

You seemed like you could fall asleep — and Ellie was happy to let you. You looked adorable and sleepy, so she took you in her arms, pressing kisses to your cheeks. “Did so good for me pretty girl.” She whispers, and it’s so warm and familiar like you’d been with her forever. Like that awful man had never been given the chance to touch you. What was his name again? You pout against her neck, letting her manoeuvre you and baby you. She’d clean you up in a little while, for now focused on holding you and telling you how good you did. She’d made you cum like you deserved, and that was two more times than Louis did. Ellie was… satisfied. “You okay?”

You wrapped your legs around her hips, drawing her closer to your body so that she was half on top of you. She chuckled, pulling back a little to look at you. “Hm? Caught your breath?” There was no cockiness in her voice, all gentleness when she cups your face making your eyes flutter open.

“Ellie.” You murmur, your own fingers grazing her cheeks like you were seeing her for the first time in years.

“Thats right, baby.” She grins, sounding like she was proud of you which made your heart swell. Her sweatpants covered crotch fell against your own slightly and you winced, suckling on your bottom lip and lashes fluttering from the feeling of the material against your engorged clit. “Shit, sorry—” She went to apologise, but your leg locked around her ass, pulling her back into you. You wriggled your hips, humping her like a little bunny rabbit.

Oh… you weren’t done.

“Yeah?” She was still smiling, but a darkness bolted through them, something else there, the sweetness disappearing for something more stern. “Want more?”

You’re lifting your hips now, trying to get some kind of feeling against you as your chest rises and falls — back into the swing of it. You felt deranged, like there was chance you’d be this damn horny forever.

She reaches down to grip your hips and thumps her covered cunt against yours a few times making you hum. She looks pensive, and when she looks back to you she’s decided. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

She’s pulling the harness over her boxers, sweatpants discarded next to your dress, before you’ve even registered her practically leap off the bed. The dildo attached is black, and your mind flashes back to your dream. Not purple then, huh.

She takes the time to look at you from a new angle, on your back, knees cutely pressed together. From where she stands, she can see the purple bruises her mouth had littered around your thighs. As she tightens the harness with one hand, she gently pushes you knee open with the other, getting a good look at your drenched, abused pussy. Your arms squish over your boobs, fists beneath your chin as you watch her in adoration.

Before you know it, she’s hovering over you again— leaning over to share a kiss, as if she’d missed you in the short amount of time she’d been apart from you. You feel the tip graze your slit and jolt slightly, fingers curling into her wifebeater. Pushing herself up to be able to see properly, she grips the cock in her fist before flushing.

“Fuck— uh, I don’t have lube.” She thinks, and thinks hard — this cock was undoubtably bigger than your now exes, and she didn’t want it to hurt. The idea of her splitting you open made her clit warm, but she was set on you feeling nothing short of amazing.

“S’okay.” You pout, high pitched and whiny as you tilt your hips down, trying to hump against the shaft — or the tip — or whatever you could reach.

“Nah s’big, babe. Need it nice n’wet for you.” She huffs. “Look, I can run down to the store. I know they sell it there and—”

She doesn’t even realise you’re pulling her desperately onto the bed, falling onto her back until she’s looking up at you. In any other situation, she’d expect you to suddenly be taking charge — asserting dominance, but no — you looked more fucked out than ever, staring down at her with big puppy dog eyes, whispering ‘Please’ over and over like a prayer.

She cups your cheek, pressing some of your hair against your face from her grasp and is about to clarify on ‘Please what, sweet girl?’ but the words catch in her throat when you crawl down her shakily, licking your swollen lips at the sight of her plastic cock. No way.

“You sure, baby?” The words died on her tongue as you start to mouth at it, pink tongue flattened desperately against the shiny strap. A low moan sounds from the back of your throat as you continue licking it like it had some kind of heavenly flavouring. Now Ellie knew it wasn’t strictly her dick, and maybe it was the way you were pressing the strap down into her crotch — but she couldn’t stop the curses from flying out. It felt… good. You drooled, the pearly, bubbly sheen dripping down the shaft before you took the tip of your mouth, obscene moans and sucking sounds bouncing around the room.

You pulled off with a pop for a second, glancing up at her with your hazy, submissive expression she’d grown fond of fast. “Feel like a slut.” You groan, high pitched and girlish. You had worry in your expression, brows knitted and eyes watery — but it didn’t quite meet your actions as you went back down, taking as much as you could in your throat. Ellie smirked, entertained as she pulled any hair out your face — watching your ministrations.

“You can be a slut for me if you want, it’s okay. Won’t tell anyone.” She cooes. You blink up at her, suckling on her tip. “Yeah. Don’t wanna be a slut for just anyone though do you? You want me to slut you out, like you deserve.” It doesn’t come out like a question in the slightest, her back teeth gritting when she watches your lashes flutter, eyes threatening to roll back. You pull off, dropping demure kisses to the now wet shaft. “You shy now? Come up here.” She’s grinning and you practically leap to straddle her.

You’re not focused on what she’s doing, busy kissing over her cheeks — and you’re suddenly confronted by her shifting you into position, sliding the wet tip through your velvety, leaking cunt. “You want it like this? Like how I taught you?” She tilts her head to look at you and you nod frantically, stopping yourself from lurching forward again and kissing every freckle on her face. Gotta be good for her, gotta be good for her — round and round your head like a broken record.

“Want it Ellie, please.” You whine and she’s shushing you, hot pressure searing within when she pushes in. It’s just like you dreamt, smooth— but small ridges catch inside you making you heave out a high pitched moan into her neck. Her free hand smoothes down your back, comforting you.

“I know.” She croons. “Gonna be a big girl and take it all, yeah?”

It takes you everything not to destroy the progress she’s made inside you and clamp down like a vice, so you fling in the opposite direction, arching your back into her to widen yourself. She feels this, feels you trying to help her push it inside and kisses your forehead. “Such a good fucking girl.”

She wants to give you time to adjust to the size, but as soon as it’s all the way in you rock against her, sliding it in and out. You choke out a pained whine and she tsk’s, holding you still.

“See? Just not cut out for doin’ any of the work are you?”

Something awake deep down within you past the submissive fog wants to be offended. But she’s right. You want whatever Ellie wants, and if she wants you to lay there on top of her and take it— that’s what you want too. She speaks again, and you almost hit a sudden orgasm, her feet flattening on the bed as she slowly bucks up, doing all the fucking for you as you lay limp on top of her. “Thats okay. Just my pretty pillow princess. Yeah, that sounds right doesn’t it.” She pants lowly, but the words echo around your head like she screamed it.

“Feels — so — mmpghm” Its muffled into her shoulder anyway, and her hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading you wider to take her deeper. You mewl.

“Oh that’s the spot, isn’t it babe.” The smugness is back, and you let her speed up, pounding that sore but needy spot inside you. “Fuck, gonna make me cum too with those pretty noises.” Her teeth are grit, and your mind reels. You didn’t know that was possible.

At this point, Ellie was beginning to use you to get off. The way she was tugging you back and fourth on her lap had you sliding the harness right up over her clit, the ridges inside pressing her through her boxers. If she could just hold on a little longer, put her focus back on you…

“Wish you… wish you could—” You choke on your moans, about to hurtle over the edge.

“Could what, hm?” She purses her lips, focused on her movements.

“Could cum inside me. Oh!” It hits you, and maybe it was your own words that did it. But she’s bucking off the bed soon enough, right behind you as her stomach tenses. The idea of her pearly white cum fountaining out your cunt when she’d unplug you making her go into fucking overload. She got sloppy, chasing her high but it was okay — you were crying again, the strap barely moving inside you from your clench but it didn’t stop Ellie from grinding, toes clenching and eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, fuck, shit. She was cumming.

You were pretty sure you blacked out. Because suddenly your eyes were fluttering open, senses returning to you slowly and you were just catching Ellie slipping into the bathroom, laying on your back now having been rolled over. You closed your eyes again sleepily, listening to the clattering of the harness hit the floor and a sighed out ‘Fuck’ from the dealer herself. The tap ran, and you dozed a little before Ellie returned with wipes.

“Mornin’ babe.” She chuckled, voice a little hoarse as you blinked up at her sleepily.

“Come n’cuddle.” Your voice was more hoarse, coming out cracked and squeaky. If you weren’t so sleepy, maybe you’d get shy about it.

“Alright, hold your horses. Need to get you nice and cleaned up first.” She shook her head, smiling at you affectionately as she settled between your thighs. Once she had wiped you up, helped you to the bathroom to pee, and pulled an oversized tshirt of hers over your head — then finally she was snuggling up beside you, pulling the blanket over you both. “There we go.” She stretched, arms above her head for a moment before they wrapped around you. “Ugh, I kinda stink.” She turned her nose up and you giggled into her chest. “Sorry bout that.” She chuckled.

“Don’t think you have to be sorry about anything ever again after that.” Your sweet voice is muffled, and your face warms again thinking about all the vulgar things she just did to you. All the vulgar things you did. You clamped your eyes shut, thinking about the desperate way you sucked her off.

“Good to know. In that case, definitely won’t be the last time I’m pulling that trick out.” She joked and you pulled back to look up at her with lovey-dovey eyes. She panicked, misreading. “Unless you don’t wanna…uh—”

You rolled your eyes. “I do. I want… I want you. Completely.”

Her expression softened, thumb drawing mindless shapes on your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“If you’ll have me, of course. Obviously gotta take care of… you know who, first.” You cringe, thinking it’ll surely ruin the mood.

“Can say his name you know, he’s not Voldemort.”

You giggle, snuggling back into her. “Just don’t wanna. Don’t wanna hear about that man ever again.” You smile, pressing the fat of your cheek into her small bust.

“I’m down for that.”

You let your eyes grow heavier, and when you’re silent for a few minutes — Ellie thinks you’ve fallen asleep. She smiles, in disbelief at the way things have turned out before turning her head to Dina’s textbook on the desk that she was meant to deliver to her at some point. Oops.

When she turns back to you, she almost jumps— your owlish eyes blinking up at her.

“Ellie, would you say a hot dog is a sandwich?”

She gapes down at you. “Hello?“

“Well I was talking about sandwiches earlier so now it’s on my mind!”

“Oh man, now we’re gonna have to argue. Who the hell said hot dogs are sandwiches?”

The two of you laughed, launching into a sleepy, delirium fuelled debate — and the world outside seemed to be held on pause. Maybe the reality of things would settle in tomorrow, but for now — you would just enjoy each others presence like you’d wanted to since the first time you’d met. This time, with no obstacles.

#dealer!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie williams au

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zombiec · 6 months

Text

Cream Puff!! | Getou Suguru

(Readers gender isn’t specified but reader has a dick)

(Getou has a dick it’s just ignored)(I need him doing the splits on my shit idk)

Synopsis ☆: Your favorite police officer comes to your bakery before closing

Warnings: dirty talk, feminization, biting, little bit of a gun kink, marking, begging

It was mid day and you were so so busy. You had a birthday party that you had to make 100 cupcakes for. The color theme was green and purple. You had all 100 made already but you hadn’t put the frosting on any. So you were currently in the kitchen frosting cupcakes, while also trying to keep up with people who come in. You work at your bakery alone, it was kind of small in the first place, so you didn’t see a need in hiring anybody.

You were almost done with the cupcakes you just needed to frost the other 20. You heard the bell at the front,dusting off your hands and trying to look presentable you walk up to the front. You see nanami a customer you usually see. “Hi what can I get for you today” he smiles a little “can I get 2 cream puffs” you smirk a bit “stop being so dirty minded” he said you grabbed the tongs and went to get his cream puffs “who said I was thinking dirty” you looked at him while putting his treats in a paper blue baggie. You grabbed napkins and handed it to him “Thank you for coming sir I hope you come again soon~” you said that last part a little flirty. He flushed a bit, grabbed his cream puffs and left.

The sky was a mixture between orange and yellow indicating the day is almost over. You finished the cupcakes 2 minutes ago, leaving them in the fridge so whoever comes to pick them up tomorrow will have them fresh. You were doing a bit of cleaning because it was almost time for you to close up. Perking up at the sound of the bell ringing at the front of your bakery, You walked up ready to tell them that you just threw out all the sweets you had in the front for the night so that you could make fresh ones in the morning.

You walked up to the front only to be surprised when you see Getou. You and Getou have a bit of history, you two always flirts but it doesn’t go anywhere past that. Getou Is scared because as a police officer a lot of people hate him, and he feels that if you two get together then people will start coming for you. You try to tell him that you can handle yourself, because you can. You’re a little bigger than Getou muscle wise, but height wise you’re basically towering over him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out though, he wants to get fucked by you so bad. You are just so tempting.

You walked up to the counter smirking “well hello officer” Getou smiled and leaned against the counter “hi my favorite baker~” he flirted back. “What do you need” you asked looking him up and down. He looked good. His long hair that you just wanted to pull on flowing down his back. Hes in his police uniform that accentuated his hips and his ass you just wanna tear that uniform off him and have him bouncing on your- “ummm” the sound of getous voice made you look up. He was looking at the menu trying to figure out what he wants.

“Can I get some brownies” you nodded and Told him “it might be a while because I have to make a fresh batch.” “Awe a new batch just for me” you rolled your eyes “no I just threw out the ones that’ve been out all day” you were about to walk to the back to begin until you heard Getou say something “what was that?”you asked “can I come back there and help you?” The way he looked at you was kind of Mischevious, like he was planning on doing something sneaky. “Okay come on” he walked through the little door to the kitchen and you both started to prepare for the brownies.

All of the ingredients were in the bowl now it was time to stir. “Can I do it” Getou said. All he’s been doing is talking your ear off so it’s best if you put him to work. You handed him the bowl and he stepped right infront of you. He started mixing but he did it too gently. “Like this?” He asked questioningly. You went up close behind him and grabbed his hand that was holding the whisk, guiding his hand to whisk the brownie batter harder. “Yea just like that” ‘oh my godd’ Getou couldn’t even focus on mixing the batter anymore. The way you huskily spoke so close to his ear he just wanted to get fucked now.

You let go of Getou going to get the pan for the brownies. “Oh my goodness I almost forgot” you said “what?” He replied. You grabbed chocolate chips from the drawer and dropped some into the bowl. “To make it more chocolately” looking at Getou not realizing how close you two were. You looked at his lips, pink, fat lips that were just waiting to be sucked on. Wanting to calm some of the rising tension in the kitchen, You cleared your throat taking the bowl from Getou. You poured the brownie mixture onto the pan and put it in the already preheated oven. Getou sighed and sat down on the counter. You raised your eyebrow at him “Get your ass off my counter” and slapped his thigh. He jumped a bit enjoying the slap a bit too much.

He bit his lip and ignored what you said. It was silent for a few until he spoke up. “Do you sell cream pies?” You blinked and looked at him. “No” “well you should” he responded. You went over to him and placed your arms on each side of him. “Why should I?” You said leaning closer to him. Getou couldn’t take the tension anymore, he brought his hands to the back of your neck bringing you even closer to him. He wrapped his legs around your waist bringing your front closer to his ass. He felt you. It was through your pants but he could tell you were big. “Because I really really want one”

You smashed your lips onto getous, making him arch his back into the kiss. He fully wrapped his arms around your neck and you bit onto his lip making him moan. You kissed down to his neck and started leaving marks. “Sto~ don’t leave any marks~” “no those bitches in your office are gonna know how much of a slut you are” Getou tightened his legs around your waist.

“Please~ I want it so bad” ‘godddd’ his desperateness was turning you on so much you just wanted to be buried deep inside him already. “What do you want Getou” you whispered in his ear. “I want you, I want you in me. I want you to fuck me so hard. Own me” you immediately went to pull his pants off he assisted you in doing so. When he got his pants off you saw what he had on and your eyes widened. He had on dark purple lace panties. You pulled on the hem and it snapped against his hip. “Mmm~” you look up at him and he’s blushing so hard and trying to cover himself.

You move his hands away and speak up. “ you planned this out didn’t you? You came in here wanting to get fucked like a whore? You want to be my personal glory hole?” Getou almost came at your words. Being your personal glory hole sounds amazing. Just being used like nothing but a hole. He was drooling at the thought. You slapped his thigh “Answer me” he looked at you with hazed eyes with a little drool coming out his mouth. “Yes..just wanna be your glory hole”

You ripped off getous panties and he gasped. “Those were my favorite pair” your eyes widened. “Pair? You have more?” Getou rolled his eyes and nodded. “You gotta show me later” and before he could respond you pushed yourself into him. “FUCKKKK” Getou yelled out arching his back. He couldn’t believe how much you were already stretching him out and you only had the tip in. You kissed up his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist.

You pushed further into him and Getou kept moaning and leaning his head back. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight baby~ you ready for me to fuck this boy pussy of yours.” “Yes hurry up” you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. “Please sir” your dick twitched. You did a test thrust up into him making him let out a small whimper. You started moving a bit faster causing Getou to let out small breathy moans.

You grabbed his thighs and started fucking into him harder. “SHITTT FASTER FASTER PLEASE” you obided by his request and fucked him at a rapid pace. You leaned down to his neck and bit directly into his sweet spot. “ah~ I can’t I-I can’t hold it in.” “You better fucking hold it in” you whispered harshly in his ear. Getou whined and you spread his legs wide open, putting his leg up on your shoulder making him lean halfway off the counter. You fucked into him watching as his head dangled off the counter hearing him cover his mouth trying to silent his moans. You weren’t about to have that. You slapped his hands away from his mouth “I wanna hear your whorish moans don’t try to hide them from me.”

Getou wanted you to cum in him so bad. He just wanted to make you cum with just his hole. He clenched down onto your dick which was exactly what you needed as you filled him with your seed. “Fuck you” you didn’t want to cum first. Getou chuckled and you groaned and rolled your eyes. You look to the left of Getou and realize his belt was there that had his accessories, including his gun. With Getou not paying attention you thrust into him hard to catch him off guard. He yelped and held onto your shoulders, when all of a sudden he felt the tip of something touch the side of his temple. He looked a bit and saw it was his gun. In your hand.

“What if I just blew your fucking brains out right now” Getou didn’t know if he could hold it in anymore. He knew you’d never shoot him..but did he really? You could shoot him at any time and he’d die with your dick inside of him. “You ready baby? You wanna cream on my cock?” “FUCK YESSS” he said and leaned up dripping onto your shirt. “Go ahead baby” he came so fucking hard. ‘Can’t believe he came with a gun held up to his head.’ You put the gun back next to his belt. Getou was hugging you and you gently caressed his hair. “You did a good job baby are you okay?” Getou smiled and chuckled. “I’m amazing” but then he pouted. “Can I get a kiss?” You kissed his lips and he moaned a bit.

Just as you guys were going to get into it the oven rang with the brownies inside. “Perfect timing”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ts kinda ass tbh

But anywayyyy this is for the person who requested sub Getou >.<!!

Thank you guys for supporting btw it’s so sweet

#dom reader #sub jjk #top reader #bleh :p #seme male reader #gn reader #sub character #dom male reader #sub geto suguru #geto suguru #jjk smut #getou x reader

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rae-writes · 1 year

Text

Such a Wh*re (I love it)

Mephisto x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : nsfw, name calling [whore], mc is accused of fooling around with the brothers and other four dateables [however it’s neither confirmed nor denied for reader interpretation]

synopsis : Mephisto would rather die than admit jealously over some human so you’ll just have to make him choke on his words instead

“What a whore.”

You slam your D.D.D down a little too hard on the desk, eyes cutting dangerously at the purple haired noble, “I beg your fucking pardon?”

Mephisto doesn’t back down. Typical. “Don’t act like it’s not true, Mc, we all see how you interact with the seven brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, and even our Prince. I just don’t see how Lord Diavolo thinks it savory to meddle with someone such as yourself on any other basis except for being an exchange student.”

While a bit dumbfounded that he was talking to you like this, you still find it in yourself to give him an irritable smirk, “Oh? Are you jealous, Mephistopheles?”

“As if. I just thought you should know how you look, flaunting yourself around like that.”

With your hues darkening mischievously, you make your way towards him, “So you admit to watching me?” Using his surprise at your closeness, you take the opportunity to grip his tie.

“I never said— h-hold on, w-what do you t-think you’re d-doing?!”

You huffed out a ‘cute’, grin getting impossibly sharper at his sudden stuttering. Swiftly, you undo the knot and yank the accessory off, using it to tie his hands behind his back.

Trying to choke out a proper sentence, Mephisto gapes at you, eyes widening when you mutter a spell to make the tie inescapable. “Mc! I-I demand you answer me!”

“What’s it look like, pretty boy? ‘M being the whore you seem to so desperately want me to be— and I’m not even going to charge you for the front row seat you’re in.”

His breath quickens as you shove him back into a chair, eyes darting from you to the door that’s only half closed; anyone could walk in here- it was the newspaper club’s office room.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” With a wave of your hand, the door slams shut and locks itself. “No one’s gonna see you all embarrassed and humiliated but me today.”

“N-no one h-humiliates me.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, working on undoing his school shirt buttons after opening his blazer, “Watch me.”

It takes less than a minute- to expose his chest and tug his pants down just enough to free his leaking cock. Mephisto can’t decide whether it’s because you’ve had practice or because in this position, he’s more pliant than he’s ever been. He chooses the former to save face.

“You know, for having such an ugly mouth, you sure are pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty body…” your eyes flit downward with an amused twinkle, “Pretty dick.”

Mephisto swallows the gasp that wants to escape at your words, instead choosing to screw his eyes shut and tilt his head back. Wrong move.

Because now you're attacking it with sucks and bites, leaving no patch of skin untouched by your lips, and he can feel the bruises forming, feel the sharp bloom of pleasure when you bite down harder and it makes him keen.

And you know he’s given up his facade when he doesn’t even acknowledge the sounds he’s making, especially when his hips jerk as you grip the base of his cock.

“C’mon, ‘phisto.” Your free hand grips his jaw and yanks his head down so brilliant green hues are staring back into yours; one eye still holds your own color while the other is a mix of blue, pink, and yellow. “Don’t you think ‘m pretty too?”

Yes his brain supplies, but nothing comes out of his mouth other than a strangled groan. And when you pout at his lack-luster response, he feels the need to get on his knees and praise you until you’re smiling again.

Moving down his tensed up figure, you come to a stop in front of his legs and wrench them apart so you can fit in the middle. “Maybe I need to go ask someone else? Maybe…Lucifer?”

Hearing his rival's name while you’re inches away from his cock makes Mephisto strain against the bindings keeping his arms in place, eyes glaring down at you heatedly.

“No?” You hum in mock thought, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock absentmindedly, “Then tell me I’m pretty.”

“F-fuck, you’re pretty, you’re so fucking pretty, Mc.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” The noble groans, “Especially when you’re looking at me.” He doesn’t even care about his pride on the line here as long as he keeps your—

“Attention, hm? That’s what gets you going, is my attention? Why didn’t you just say so, silly demon.” You wrap your lips around him, taking his cock all the way down so casually he almost thinks he’s dreaming.

“S-shit! Oh, fuck, f-fuck!” Mephisto feels you laugh freely, sending his back arching at the vibrations. He knows his cheeks are ablaze, embarrassingly so, but- “P-please, please don’t stop!”

Laughing again, you come off his cock with a pop, using your hand instead so you could coo at him, “Look at you, Mephisto. Whining, begging, and trembling because of me.”

He tries to shake his head to deny it, but it only adds to his thrashing as he feels himself getting closer and closer to that delicious edge.

“I think…” You dig your tongue harshly into his slit, making him cry out so loud it bounces off the walls, “I think you’re the whore.”

At that, Mephisto just falls apart in your hands, toes curling in his shoes while his body shakes so much he’s almost afraid he’s gonna fall off the chair he’s on.

It’s a gorgeous sight. Purple hair all mussed up, cheeks a pretty dark pink, eyes half lidded, and tongue lolling out just the slightest amount. His chest, framed by the wrinkled uniform, is streaked with white, as are his blazer and pants. It’s such a sight that you can’t help but…

The sound of a shutter going off brings Mephisto back to reality, weakly opening his eyes to see what the noise was. What should be a cold wash of dread is instead a shock of heat forming in the pit of his stomach as he watches you hold up his camera.

You take your time connecting said camera up with your D.D.D, successfully transferring the picture over. It’s only when you place the electronics down does he finally speak.

“So what? You gonna leak that to everyone now that you’ve done your part at humiliating me?” Although he can’t help but find the predicament he’s landed himself in very hot, he still has a sliver of nervousness in his tone.

“Course not.” Walking back over to him, you lick some of the cum off his chest, “Looking like this? You’re all mine.” You savor the taste a bit more theatrically than you should, but the whimper that escapes Mephisto is all too worth it.

“M-Mc—“ he’s cut off by your lips crashing onto his and he doesn’t waste a single second in kissing you back, bullying his tongue into your mouth impatiently.

You moan at him in return, tangling your tongue with his before you pull back, a little breathless from the encounter, “Pretty, pretty, Mephistopheles…” Capturing him in another kiss, you make sure this one is slow and sensual to keep his attention on you.

It works. He doesn’t even realize you’ve undone your spell or that you’ve begun untying his restraints. All he’s focused on is your taste mixed with the faintness of his own and the warmth of your breath when you break away for a quick moment, just to come right back. It was intoxicating and he loved it. Craved it.

Pulling away one last time, you gaze at him thoughtfully, “I wonder if your mark is as pretty as you…maybe you’ll let me find out someday, hm?” And then you’re grabbing your phone, waving at him, and exiting the room, taking a piece of his pride with you.

But Mephisto doesn’t mind, not really. Even when he scrambles around to clean himself off and make himself presentable again to go meet up with his prince because he’ll sear his pact into you, no matter who says otherwise. You asked for it and he’s ever so glad to deliver.

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto #mephisto smut #obey me imagine

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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months

Note

I can see Punk dad Miguel letting his daughter use his tattoos as a color book. Like mom comes back home from running small errands and Miguel and their baby are in the living room, he’s just kind of watching TV and glancing back to their little girl while she uses markers to color in his tats.

Punk Dad!Miguel who has his arm out in the lap of his daughter Gabriella. They’re both on the couch, a giant blanket on Miguel’s lap.

Punk Dad!Miguel that tries to watch TV but he has an annoying headache, hoping you’ll be back soon with some painkillers.

“Papi, do you want blue or red?” She asks him, stuffing the two toxic-free, fruit scented markers in his face.

Punk Dad!Miguel who takes it seriously since she is. He carefully plucks the blue from her hands. “Blue.” She snatches it back, popping it open and coloring in the small black and white tattoos on his fingers and hands.

The two were both bored and Gabriella often colored in the tattoos that weren’t already colored. He stopped doing ones in color when she took an interest in doing that part herself.

Punk Dad!Miguel that lets her crawl in his lap, his hand cradling her small back while she places her hands on his chest. Her right hand messily making a Ghost Rider tattoo pink and purple, the scent strawberries and cherry.

You enter after going down to the corner store, painkillers and Vaporub in hand. You look at the sight of your baby nestled in your husbands arms, putting away her green marker that smelled like apples. She sees you and smiles, point at her father’s chest. “Mami, I made it different this time!”

You watch as Miguel contently plays with his daughter’s hair while watching TV. Despite the headache he was suffering from, he seemed at peace with her around.

“Gabi, you’ll get sick too if you hang around Papi like that.” You say firmly, placing the things you bought on the coffee table. She pouts and collects her markers, your husband having the same pout as her.

You two watch as she scurries away to her room and Miguel takes your hand. “C’mon…” He coos. You sit beside him and take the Vaporub, twisting it open and scooping enough to rub on his chest.

“Our daughter is not gonna get sick with you because you’re so clingy.” You tease him, hand going in circles as he hums in delight, leaning into you even with the uncomfortable mint smell of the jelly. The colors mix together before fading once more into a clean canvas for his daughter to play with another time.

#punk!migs #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

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minimallyminnie · 11 months

Note

not sure about this one but who do you think would let me paint their nails and what color?

Paint the Nails with Color!

Not quite a fic!

ORTHO IS PLATONIC NO MATTER WHAT.

Cater

“Omg! You wanna do my nails?! Like /srs right??? Of course! Let me post the finished results on Magicam later!!!”

Would like colors that match together. Green and purple would be amazing for him!

Deuce

“Oh! You wanna paint…my nails? N-no! I don’t mind! I’m just surprised you want to do mine! Ok! Choose any color you’d like! I don’t mind!”

Would like red, blue, or black! But doesn’t mind any color!

Leona

“…Just don’t wake me up and I don’t give a damn about what you do to my nails. As long as I can still scratch too. Anyways, nothing too bright. That crap hurts my eyes.”

Black is your best color honestly but he won’t mind a darker color like maroon either

Floyd

“Ooh! Shrimpy wants to do my nails?! Of course! Can I choose the colors? Pretty please? Let me paint yours too!”

He likes any color tbh but he’ll adore bright yellow the most!

Jade

“Oh? You want to paint my nails? I suppose you can, as long as they don’t interfere with my work, I don’t mind at all.”

Jade would probably like magenta and cream to match with his mushrooms!

Kalim

“Ooh! You wanna paint my nails?! Of course you can! Want me to paint yours too? I don’t mind if you want me too! We can have a mini party together!”

He wouldn’t mind any color but would like orange and red with some gold in the mix!

Vil

“Hm you. Do my nails? Hmph, I guess I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mess up my carefully made shape or my cuticles, you can paint them. But at least let me choose my color so I don’t look like some barbarian with a crazy amount of color.”

Will absolutely choose his own colors, usually purple, gold, or black is his go to but if you can convince him to do others he can

Rook

“Oh mon! You’d like to do my nails my beau trickster? Why of course! I would love to!”

Doesn’t mind what color, but he would rather do more muted colors to hide his hands when he’s using his unique spell unknowingly against students. Or Vil’s colors

Ortho Shroud (does he have nails?)

“You wanna paint my nails? Let me search on how to do that…oh! You already know how to? Ok! You can paint my nails then! I don’t think it’ll mess up my coding or leak into any mech my body has so go ahead!”

Definitely a more fun color scheme liker but neon blue all the way!!!

Malleus

“Oh? Child of man, you want to paint my nails? Just a simple mundane thing…you surprise me every day with how fascinating you are…Why go ahead! I’d love to see. If you don’t mind, may I do it for you as well?”

Canonically, he has black nails but for you? I think he wouldn’t mind any color considering everytime he painted them it was black. A new color would be lovely!

Lilia

“Aw! You wanna paint my nails? I am so honored! Hmm…let me paint yours too! Have a little fun with the design!”

He would want bright, fun, colors! Definitely with designs of all sorts! Poisoned red apple with green poison? Sure! A red rose in a glass case? As long as it’s not that difficult! Super experimental in all!

Silver Vanrouge (I’ll die by this)

“Mmm…not too bright ok? I don’t mind if you paint my nails. I’ll…be asleep…wake me up when you’re done….”

A knight that would like to not be the spotlight, par of course he wants colors that aren’t bright. Surprisingly, pale pink or green is what he’d like most.

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animehouse-moe · 3 months

Text

Ryoko Kui's Daydream Hour

I am moving at a glacial pace with tidying up and editing the images of this art book, so I'm going to take a break and talk about Kui's incredible character design on Delicious In Dungeon, using elves here as an example

So, first of all, race-defining traits. With the elves, it's obviously ears as the first. But, Kui plays around with that far more and in an incredibly natural way. The size of their ears differs, the angle at which they protrude from the side of the head can be different, their rotation in terms of where the opening of the ear faces can change, and even the "pointyness" is unique to each elf.

It creates incredibly varied views and "styles" of elf within the world, and complements a lot more of the physical traits that reflect ethnicity in our world.

Take, for example, the hair of elves. In the vast majority of cases it remains blonde or silver/white, and is straight. As you can tell with some of the images, it's not always smooth or silky like some exhibit, but in the vast majority of cases, for elves that are pure elves, their hair is straight (potentially with some shape/volume as you can see with the gray-haired elf with green markings on their face).

Similarly, elves are shown to have characteristically blue or green eyes. Which begins to draw your attention towards an outlier.

This elf. The one with purple eyes. Immediately, you might think "oh, they must only be part elf", but Ryoko Kui was only laying a trap with that idea. This elf is certainly 100% elf, it's just that they exhibit traits that are heterogenous to how Kui's defined elves as a race.

The biggest outliers being the purple eyes, but then also the ears. Here's the thing though, there's not a race that strongly exhibits purple eyes throughout Ryoko Kui's work on Delicious In Dungeon. It's just that elves exhibit strong homogeneity in regards to eye color. A similar thing can arguably be said about the ears which may make viewers think something's up. They're certainly the smallest of the bunch, and the most rotated, but other elves also see aggressively rotated ears, just not to the degree that this one does.

If you want to talk about how the traits of elves mix with that of other races we actually have two examples. Marcille Donato, obviously, as a half elf and half tall-man, but also this other blonde woman with blue eyes.

We know of Marcille's heritage so let's focus on the woman on the right. The first thing that you notice as a heterogenous is her hair: it's wavy. It's a trait that's very much separate from Kui's depiction of elves. Similarly, the shape of the eyes betrays that much more narrow and sharp style.

Then there's also the ears, which are larger, noticeably shorter, more round, and most noteworthy are thicker.

With that last piece I'm sure many are thinking, "Oh, she has to be half Gnome!". Yes, the shape and size of the ears does very much fit Kui's style of Gnome (as does her height, I'll say more later), but let me show you a (bad and unedited) image of how Kui draws gnomes.

Their eyes are far more slanted and downturned. It's a very strong trait of the Gnomes, alongside their very prominent noses and hair that isn't noticeably curly or wavy.

So no, it's not Gnome, and I wouldn't say it's Dwarf either. My guess is that this woman is part half-foot. The smaller stature (yes, the headshot shows that she's shorter than the other elves), the curly hair, the shorter yet more prominent and thicker ears, the rounder eyes, it all speaks to similarities expressed by Half-Foot characters.

And I think that's really incredible. It's just a wonderful highlight of how thoughtful and creative Kui is with their character design, and how unique they're able to make a race.

At a glance, you can tell who's what, but they don't all look the same by any means.

That's something that's really driven home with Ryoko Kui's Daydream Hour, and something I really want to talk about more. Though, as you can tell, I've got a lot of work ahead of me to get images that are actually good and presentable, so we'll see when I'm able to squeeze out a proper post.

#ryoko kui #daydream hour #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #marcille dunmeshi #marcille dungeon meshi #marcille donato #delicious in dungeon marcille #anime art book #anime art #manga art book #manga art #anime and manga #anime #manga

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matts-k1tten · 3 months

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞.

summary: y/n finds her boyfriend (now ex) Chris cheating on her at a party and vows to make him feel the way she did..

warnings: slight angst, smoking, drinking, foul language, cheating (no actual smut!). let me know if i missed anything

purple: Mia

pink: y/n

orange: chris

green: random girl

——

“which mini dress should I wear? this royal blue one? or this wine red one?” my best friend Mia asks.

Mia and I are currently getting ready for a party that a guy in our school is hosting.

“hmm. I think the wine red one you look so good in red.” i reply.

she smiles and goes to put the blue dress away and starts changing.

“hey, do you know if Chris is gonna be there? he hasn’t been answering my calls nor texts.” Mia looks over at me.

“no I don’t think so, but don’t worry let’s just get drunk and have the time of our lives!” she screams and throws her hands up.

—

when Mia pulls into the street the party is on, i’m shocked to see that it’s in a huge mansion.

“hey who’s hosting this party? cause this house is fucking huge.” I say my eyes still examining the surroundings.

I see a few people in the front lawn smoking with the door wide open.

“uh I think Max, he’s that rich kid from math.” Mia says.

I nod as she parks down the street.

we get out the car and walk into the house.

I’m immediately hit with the stench of sweaty teenagers mixed with alcohol and weed.

we finally find where the drinks are and Mia pours us some tequila in 2 shot glasses.

“tequila? nice choice!” i laugh as she hands me the glass.

“this is to me and you and us being the boss bitches that we are!” we both cheer as we click out glasses together and down the tequila in one go.

“i forgot how much tequila burns, shit.” I laugh out loud as Mia starts coughing.

“you wanna go dance?” Mia shouts over the loud music.

“uhh duh?!” I giggle as she pulls me onto the dance floor where a lot of people were gathered.

Mia and I are dancing out hearts out when our song comes on.

“Les” by Childish Gambino.

we look at each other and start singing and dancing.

Mia is holding my hands and we scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs.

“𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.”

we sing and start jumping and spinning around.

that’s when I catch a glimpse of what seems like Chris holding another girl with her back pressed up against him.

I look over again to see that it is indeed Chris with another girl. He doesn’t seem to notice me looking from a far as the girl starts to drag him towards the stairs.

I feel my face turn red with anger.

Mia notices that I stopped dancing and stops as well.

“what are you looking at?” she asked as she looks the direction I am.

“oh.” is all she says as I start to go after them.

they walk upstairs but I’m pretty far behind as I watch them walk into a room and shut it behind them.

I stomp up the stairs and run down the hallway to the room that they went in.

Mia comes up from behind me as she watches me press my ear up to the door.

I can hear the lewd sounds of their mouths colliding shortly followed by a zipper.

I hear more whimpers and decide that’s enough and barge in. they didn’t even lock the door.

“what the fuck do you even know how to knock?!” the random girl says as I notice that it’s my ex-best friend who betrayed my trust.

she’s the reason i have trust issues, Chris knows that.

Chris turns to me and freezes.

“baby it’s not what it looks like.” he says slightly loud.

“cut the bullshit Chris! you haven’t replied to any of my texts or answered my calls, now I see you here making out with a fucking whore on a bathroom sink and have the nerve to say ‘it’s not what it looks like’ what a shit excuse when I saw your tongue down her throat!” I scream feeling mixed emotions as Mia watches from behind me.

“I’m not a whore you bitch!” she yells but I just ignore her, to angry at chris to acknowledge her.

“look y/n I’m sorry ok i just didn’t see your notifications.” he says but I can tell he’s lying straight out of his ass.

“Chris I’m so fed up with your shit! y’know what? we’re done. don’t ever speak to me again.” I yell over the music as I grab Mia’s hand and stomp away.

I start crying as Mia follows behind me down the stairs.

we make it outside and start walking to her car when Chris catches up with us.

“no y/n j-just let me explain don’t leave like this!” he stutters out.

I halt and breathe.

I turn around sharply. “no Chris! t-there’s no point in explaining that I just caught you cheating with my ex-best friend and you know how she made me develop trust issues!” I manage to get out now full on hyperventilating.

Chris sees me in that state and starts to walk over.

“c’mon y/n let’s go.” Mia says soft and quiet as she pulls my arm and drags me away.

I’m still looking at Chris as Mia drags me just to see a single tear roll down his cheek.

that’s when I realize.

he really doesn’t feel that love for me anymore.

all those times he got mad because I wouldn’t have sex with him.

the times he left after we argued.

I look away and frantically wipe the tears from my face. Mia opens the car door for me, closes it and walks over to the drivers side.

once she hops in she puts the car in drive.

“that fucking asshole!” I scream and punch the dashboard.

“I’m gonna make him feel what i feel. i’ll fuck him up.”

“𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆.”

--------------------------

a/n - soo what do we think?? now that i’m reading it over there’s definitely going to be another part to this. guys i know this isn’t good dont flame me in the comments or ill never post again.

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo

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panchatea · 3 months

Text

GREEN

#1 of 3 Colors Series.

TRIGGER WARNING is expected, proceed with caution

Dreamcatcher Fanfiction

6322 WORDS

chacha story commissions

It was cold light blue…

Really cold and these red mosquitos were everywhere feasting and leaving itchy marks on each arm and leg. It was crippling, it was dark, but at least it was quiet.

Finally quiet.

It was white.

A sweater or a hoodie would be quite useful right now, but there was no point, right? After all, it all doesn’t matter now, there was nothing to lose or gain anymore. Just take mindless steps… mindless heavy steps with no direction. Grab the gray asphalt underneath. Feel the cold, feel all of it…

Blink.

It was dark, yet it was bright.

It was white.

All of these blinding lights were everywhere from store signages and street lights. Countless lost red and yellow souls passing by each other, and not caring about one another. After all, people have their own problems to deal with.

Problems.

If only it were that simple, but it wasn't.

It never did.

Wish it was all monochrome but no, everything was bright, too bright to begin with, too colorful, too complicated, and there was no side ledge to stand on top off to. There was no compelling, pulling, and captivating clear dark blue body of water to drown in.

Not that everything wasn’t already drowning and suffocating.

All there was just darkness, this asphalt underneath, and all of these bright street lamps.

Just breathe.

It’s not that hard. It’s not that hard to just breathe.

Hard to breathe.

“You’re green.” That was what she said before grabbing onto your hand, without asking and pulling you away from these heavy mindless steps. She held tightly as every color blurred out, and each step kept getting lighter.

Run.

Her hand was soft, but she was gripping tightly and she was shaking as if… you looked at her. She was purple.

It was fast and blurry. All these colors mixed up and there was no clear path and all you could focus on was her. Her color oozed with purples and violets. Her blonde hair. That black sweater and gray skirt. And run to god knows where she would take you.

“What are you thinking about?” She yelled, still running.

“I don’t know…

Like maybe why are we running?

Who are you?

What are we even doing?

Aren’t you running out of breath?”

“Hey calm down, Green. Geez, you have too many questions.” She didn’t answer any of them.

“Are we lost?!” You yelled back.

You could just stop and let go of her hand but you didn’t. Why because for some reason…

“It’s okay, Green.” Once again her answer didn’t answer the question, but her words, felt like they meant something else.

Like it was okay to be lost.

“Why are you calling me Green?”

“Breathe.” She stopped. You both stopped.

“What’s that expression on your face?” She added.

“How about you? What are you so afraid of?”

Once again, she didn’t answer… She just looked at you while she caught her breath.

“You can see it, right?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“The colors. Tell me what color I am?”

“You’re purple or violet… I don’t know, I don’t care. What does it even mean?”

She just laughed, loudly until it was all you could hear, breaking the whites, mixing in the dark.

“Can you just talk to me like a normal person!?” You shouted and she just looked surprised. She pouted but she didn’t say anything.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. I just, can’t deal with this right now. I don't have time for this.” You tried to walk away but her next words stopped you.

She was really pushy.

“I'm not normal, Green.” She laughed.

“You’re silly, you know.” She squatted looking at your toes, at your shoeless feet.

“It's just that sometimes or most of the time, I get into these moods. I say what I want. I do what I want. You’re right… I’m purple. You’re funny, you don't know the difference between purples and violets.” She pointed at your feet happily.

“Your toes are dirty, aren’t they cold? Don’t go running without shoes or a flip-flop. I like violet more than purple, so I appreciate that you thought I was a violet.”

She says one different thing after another.

“You’re weird.” You sighed out of frustration as you grew aware of what she pointed out, yes your feet were cold.

“It’s my first time seeing your shade of green,” she muttered.

“Usually, I would see it in restaurants or children who don’t like their veggies. Did you eat something weird? But you’re different, it’s as if you’re disgusted by yourself.” She looked at you intently, studying your expression or rather studying your expression and peeking into your soul.

“That’s none of your business scaredy fox.” You reached inside your pocket and took out the single stick of cigarette left in there and a lighter.

“Hey, don’t smoke, Green.” She jumped up while simultaneously snatching the stick slipped in between your fingers, and threw it away. “It’s bad for you.”

“What’s your problem?!” You shouted at her and she just smiled.

“How about you? What’s your problem?” She retorted sternly as if she really believed that snatching that cigarette was the right thing to do. You just sighed in defeat.

She had this commanding and carefree aura or in other words she was weird and she just didn’t care.

“Come on, just calm down and enjoy this view,” She tapped your shoulders before turning to look around. What view? All of it was just empty dark streets lit by white street lights, colorful street signage of 24-hour establishments, and the occasional passing of cars, and red and yellow souls.

“You’re weird,” you commented and she just smiled back at you.

“Keep telling me that, Green. It’s better to be weird than be normal, that sucks.”

“Stop calling me, Green. I don’t know what it means and I have a name,” you retorted while you stared at her. Now that you have a chance, you realize how beautiful this girl was… She looked like an idol, and the street lights weren’t blinding for once, they just illuminated this girl enough to show her violet self.

“So go ahead and tell me your name,” She challenged as she turned back and made eye contact.

“I don’t want to.”

She pouted, “Come on, I’ll tell you mine so tell me yours.”

“Why should I, you’ll keep calling me green anyways, Violet.”

“Haha, maybe I should dye my hair violet soon. Sure, that’s fine, let's just talk like this. Do you wanna walk? Or do you wanna sit?”

You laughed as you took a sit on the sidewalk underneath one of those white street lights.

“You made me run and then you’ll make me walk, don’t forget that I’m barefooted, Violet.” She laughed before sitting beside you.

“Here let me even out things,” She said before she removed her shoes and socks, and then threw them away.

“That’s not what I mean,” You said in a tone of frustration, “and that doesn’t even out things since we’re sitting.”

“Come on now, it’s better this way. Now go talk your heart out, Green.” She looked at you. Those eyes of hers, expecting something to come out of your mouth—the story of your shade of green.

She was really pushy(2).

“You go first, then I will go.” You smirked at her and she just pouted before breaking eye contact and looking at the sky.

“How about we play a game, Green? Let’s take turns, I’ll answer your question and then you answer mine. So that it’s fair, right?” She smiled in between her sentences.

“Sure, I’ll go first,” you quickly said and she just side-eyed in response before nodding and looking up again to the sky—that dark empty sky.

“What does Green, Purple, or Violet mean? Colors, what do colors mean?” You asked her. You could always see them everywhere but didn't really know what they meant. What do they mean? How could she even tell you could see them?

She snickered at your question, “You can see them but don’t know what they mean? You’re funny and weird.”

“I’m the one who is asking here, Miss.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll answer,” she said as she gestured as if she was grabbing something in the sky above her, “Green means disgust, and Purple is fear. Violet is still fear, but I guess for me, it is sadness mixed with little bits of anger. You know what’s funny, violet is made with more blue than red, and purple is just more red than blue. They, Purple and Violet are basically the same thing but they mean differently.”

Her explanation had raised questions. What she said wasn't clear honestly, but you just listened intently.

Her words… were just like she was yapping about something but they held meaning.

“So if red is anger, and blue is sadness. Then Purple, do they root from anger and sadness? Does that mean you’re overwhelmed by anger but were slapped with the reality and blueness of not being able to do anything with that fear? Hence, maybe that’s why you’re afraid. What does Violet even mean then, when you’re too sad but also a little bit angry?” She lowered her fist and looked at it intently before opening it.

She grabbed nothing out of the vast dark sky but there was something.

“You’re being unfair, you already asked three questions you know,” you smiled unknowingly as you watched her. “Anyways, I think you’re right though. There is nothing to be afraid of if you are happy.”

“Yellow?” She cut.

“Yes, yellow maybe as you said. Hence, fear is rooted in sadness, but sadness is just not enough. Maybe that’s why we need anger to experience fear. Sadness from the helplessness and anger from the hopelessness. Which do you prefer though? Violet or Purple?”

Once again, she looked at you straight in the eyes and something way beyond your eyes.

Perhaps the colors? Or maybe your soul?

“I prefer Violet, I already said that to you earlier. I think I’m violet… I wish I could be Violet, Green. What do you think? What am I?”

“Okay, Violet, I guess you’re too sad then, but I think you’re more purple. But I’ll keep calling you Violet 'cause violets are nice.” You smiled at her.

“Why?” She asked quickly.

“Because violet. Suppose you become more than just a violet. Let’s say super? Ultra?”

She smiled.

“Ultra-violet is all the colors at full brightness,” you joked.

“Haha, Ultra-violet? That’s so weird!” She exclaimed as she stood before once again looking up in the sky.

“Look who's talking, calling someone else weird,” you teased back.

“Just ask your question, don’t forget about it.”

“I don’t know, I’ll ask later, Green. I’ll reserve my question for later.”

“Green? I don’t think green means disgust, but rather disappointment. Yellow is Happiness? Green is made with blue and yellow, and all I can think about with that combination is disappointment. I don’t think you’re wrong though, Green might as well be disgust.”

“Why?” She asked and stood up beside her.

“Because I hate, myself.

Because I’m disgusted by myself.”

“That’s why you’re green.” She commented almost too quickly. “Why are you disgusted by yourself?”

“Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask.” She smiled in acknowledgment.

“What are you so afraid of?”

And for the first time tonight, she didn’t look goofy, and she wasn’t smiling without any care in the world. There was violet, there was purple in her eyes. You suddenly remembered her shaking hands earlier, so you instinctively held her hands.

There were shaking.

She held your hand tightly and said,

“I’m afraid of dying.”

“Why?”

She smiled, “Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Touche, Violet.”

You tried to let go of her hand but she intertwined hers with yours instead.

“Answer my why first.”

“I started to believe, that’s all.”

“And?”

“I started to loathe, and I started losing love for myself.”

“What was it that made you believe? What do you believe in?” She asked continuously. Now the game was getting more interesting.

You smirked, “My turn to ask a question.”

“Aish, go ahead.”

“Why are you afraid of dying?”

She laughed and smiled again, and for some reason, it looked and sounded forced—there was sorrow behind her smile and laugh.

“That’s simple, because I’ll die,” she stated nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing to say. Does she have some kind of illness? A terminally ill patient? She looked rather healthy honestly.

“Come on now, everyone will die sooner or later.”

“Yup, you’re right.”

That was when you saw, something unforgettable that would haunt you forever—may that be in a bad way or a good way.

It was her smile.

Different from the one she did before, it was the brightest. It wasn’t white or yellow, but rather was violet. It was something beyond beauty. And it wasn’t because of how the sides of her lips or the way her cheeks puffed or the way her eyes smiled along with her lips.

But it was the genuineness of it.

Her smile was filled with sorrow.

Her smile harbored acceptance for something beyond what you knew about her.

Her smile hinted reds of regret.

Her smile was not just blue.

It was violet.

“Ul—”

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green,” she cut as she let go of your hand and took a few steps forward.

You could no longer see her smile, or if she was still smiling even. You stare at her back while trying to process what she just said.

Her die? Tomorrow?

That ridiculous.

“Come on don’t joke around, you’re not terminally ill, are you?” You asked worriedly but she laughed once again...

“Is that a question? You're funny, I'm not sick or ill.”

If not that then…

“Are you gonna kill yourself?” she looked back, her smile wasn't there anymore.

“It’s not your turn to ask a que—”

“Forget about the stupid game! Answer the fucking question! Are you gonna kill yourself or not?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill myself,” She answered rather quickly and surely.

“Don’t ever kill yourself,” you said sternly, and she responded by holding out her pinky finger.

“I won’t kill myself, I promise.” She wiggled her finger, tempting you to take it. You took it, and she locked on it before playfully pressing her thumb onto yours.

“Why do you even care?” She teased as she broke the lock between your pinky fingers and quickly intertwined her hands instead, “You have to answer two questions in a row now, you took two turns earlier. I won’t let go of you until you do.”

You held her hand tightly.

“My best friend killed herself.” You almost choked out of your words.

“That’s why, so don’t kill yourself, and don’t ever kill yourself.

I don’t ever want someone I know to kill themselves again, because I’ll actually start to believe it, and maybe, I might just end up going after them...”

“What exactly is it?”

“That's your second question,” you said as you smiled at her.

“Yes it is, but this time you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.”

She smiled back.

“Because everyone blames me for her death, and today, I visited her grave for the first time. I went away. I wasn't there for her funeral after all so I visited and I couldn't do so for the longest time… because I was afraid. I thought I didn't deserve to visit her until I… I was finally able to make our wish come true but—”

You bit your lip, as you felt all of it, the memories, the emotions, and the trauma weigh down on your shoulders.

“but when I came to her grave… her Mom was there, and she… she said that…

I didn't change.

I was still the same monster who drove her daughter to kill herself.

I… they all said it before. That it was because of me.

And now I'm starting to believe it.

So you're right…

I’m green.

I’m disgusted by who I am.”

Tears started flowing. Words were said. Everything came gushing out. All of those that were heavy were released.

You just wept and cried.

*SLAP

“Hey, it’s not your fault.”

As the pain registered, it went silent—it went monochrome.

There were only her eyes and her mouth saying the words.

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

“I —I kn—know,” you struggled.

“It's not your fault,” once again as she caressed the cheek she slapped.

“I know and I tried, but—”

“Whatever it is, whatever you did. It’s not your fault.” she cut.

“But! Sometimes or most of the time, there are voices in my head saying how it's my fault that she had died. That I was the one who,” you bit your lip, “That they are right.”

“And I! Most of the time, I tell myself that they are not wrong for saying that.

So I… yes… I hate myself.

I am utterly disgusted by my own being.”

Green.

She pulled you into a hug and for one last time she said, “It’s not your fault.”

“So where did you lose your shoes?” she asked jokingly and you just bursted out laughing while tears flew down your cheeks.

“You are taking advantage of this, are you? That is your third question.”

She giggled.

“Come on, tell me about it.”

“You know, we probably look weird like this. Hugging in the middle of the streets and crying and laughing.”

“Do you want me to let go?”

Honestly no…

There was this kind of comfort and discomfort being engulfed by her arms.

Why would you let a complete stranger hug you like this?

A complete stranger saying the words you wanted to hear the most?

“Haha, I forgot about it… my shoes. I just ran and later realized that I didn't have one.”

“Here, I’ll give you this instead.” She broke the hug to reach for something from her pockets and took out a violet pen.

“Always keep this with you and don’t ever lose it.”

“What's this? A kid toy pen? It doesn’t even work.” You tried it on your hand but the pen didn't have any ink.

“Haha, it's my treasure so take care of it.”

“I will.” You kept it inside your pocket, replacing the cigarette from before.

“So tell me? What do we do now?” You asked her.

She took a few steps, before looking back.

“What else? We keep playing the game, Green.” She said as she held out her hand.

“Come, walk me home?”

You took it.

“Where are we even? Do you even know from all that running?” She took her steps and you followed her.

“Of course, are you not from around here?”

Once again, upon these empty streets illuminated only by white street lights, you two walked barefooted as if it was the most normal thing ever, grabbing the cold pavement while relishing the strange comfort of each other’s company.

“No, my best friend's parents decided they were going to bury her here, in their hometown so I came here to visit, but I can just look at my phone—” you patted your pockets to look for your phone only to find out that.

“I don’t have it!” you said surprised upon the realization of this predicament.

“I lost my phone,” you said to her but she just shrugged.

“Can I borrow yours?”

“I don’t have one,” she replied as she noticed the worried look you had.

“Maybe it's in the graveyard? Do you wanna come and get it?” She asked.

“No way! It's too late and there's no way I’m going to a graveyard this late. Aish, we don't even know what time exactly it is.”

She just laughed and you just sighed in defeat. Of course, you at least knew how you got to the graveyard from your accommodation, and how to get out of town, but you had been wondering without any care for some ample time, the running and now walking with this violet stranger girl seemed to have led you to someplace you had no idea about. Of course, this also means you didn't know how to get to the place you were residing at. You just know too little about this town and it was harder in the dark.

“Scaredy Cat, it's not that scary.”

She knows where things are, maybe you could ask her. You sighed in defeat.

“Let's just go, I will walk you home, and just give me directions to my shared house and then I hope I can figure the way.”

The walk by itself was uneventful, after all that happened and the things that you two shared about each other, the silence was a breath of fresh air. Her silence was odd, but everything was honestly odd about her so...

The girl you call Violet just has too many questions surrounding her.

She was a mystery.

A single-colored mystery

“What were you even doing out this late at night?” You looked at her hand, the one you were still holding.

“Hmm,” she pointed at her temple, “I was taking a walk?”

She joked and you bumped at her playfully.

“I wanted to feel the air.

I wanted to see the stars.

I wanted to see those white streetlights,

those colorful store signage,

those lost souls colored uniquely on their own.

I wanted to see the town.

Many more.” She smiled but her tone was filled with blues, yellows, and a new color, you had seen for the first time, orange.

What is orange?

“You’re being weird again, Violet.” you didn’t what to say so you just said the first sorry banter you thought of.

“But hey, I got to meet you, Green.” She looked at you, smiled and it was yellow.

You blushed…

She was strange.

She was weird.

But she had a smile that could not be described by just the words beautiful, pretty, or attractive.

Her smile was colorful.

“I don’t know, I think I was unlucky that I met you,” she punched you and pouted cutely. “Haha, I’m just kidding, I’m glad you found me.”

Yes, the word was found.

She found you.

“I can’t even imagine what could have happened to me if you didn’t do what you did.” You smiled.

“So thank you, Violet.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks turned rosy. Is she blushing?

“Oh shush, don’t mention it.” She smacked your shoulders. She’s shy?! This girl…

“You looked green.” That was maybe her own way of saying You look like you needed help.

“We’re here.” You weren’t really paying attention and you just followed her so you didn't notice until you looked around to find out you two stopped in front of a massive gate, and from afar, you could an even more enormous mansion fitting the massive gate.

On the gate, you noticed circular geometric patterns, but you didn’t think much of them.

“This is your house?” you asked her and she just nodded.

“This is my family’s. My sisters and I live here,” she explained and you nodded in response. You also told her the name of your accommodation and asked for directions but she just… shrugged…

You couldn't believe it… there was no way.

You would have no choice but to sleep in the streets.

“You could stay here if you want?” she offered.

“I don’t th—”

“Lee Gahyeon!” a voice cut came from the other side of the gate before you could finish. From afar, you saw a figure of a woman. She was walking towards the two of you.

“Lee Gahyeon?”

“That’s my name, Green.”

When the figure was finally in sight it revealed an elegant woman wearing a pure white night

gown. Red lips, sharp nose, and lazy hazy eyes of a predator.

“That’s my sister, Kim Minji,” Gahyeon whispered as the said woman opened the massive gate of the mansion.

She was gray.

“Your sister looks really attractive, Vio—” she elbowed you and you just giggled. Kim? They are sisters, right?

“Where have you been?” she asked her before looking at you up and down. “And who is this gentleman?”

A strict mom? Wait, she’s her sister.

“I just took a night stroll, we took a night stroll,” she answered as she hugged your arm.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she added, which made your eyes widen.

“I see… A stroll, without shoes. A boyfriend without shoes,” She pointed out. The older sister stared at you as if she was waiting for you to say something.

“Hi—hi! O—older Sister, I’m,” you stuttered as you introduced yourself. You held out your hand for a handshake but the older woman ignored it and turned around.

“Come Gahyeon, it's late. We should rest, everyone has already retreated to their rooms.” The older gestured for the younger to come.

“JiU-unnie wait. ” This halted the older and looked back. “Can he stay? He has nowhere to go right now and it's too late.”

“We don't have any guest rooms ready so just show him to Father’s bedroom. Let him borrow his clothes and… shoes.” Minji continued walking towards the manor while Gahyeon dragged you.

“Violet, is this okay?”

“Yup don’t worry, if she says it's fine then it's fine. JiU is the oldest amongst us 7 and she's the leader so what she says goes, and besides, it's the least she could do.” you sighed in defeat.

“The least she could do?”

“Yes! I mean her youngest sister brought home a man for the first time, the least she could do is to make him feel at home and give him some shoes.” she pointed at your toes before dragging you to go inside the mansion.

What’s with them and toes… and shoes…

The place was quite big so it took a while to even go to the front door of the mansion. It made you wonder, where did the older woman walking a few meters in front of you and Gahyeon. You saw a gazebo near the gate so maybe that was wear Minji was hanging out while she was waiting for Gahyeon? Alone, that late at night?

Along the way, you saw a vast green field lit by post lamps, well-kept plants and flowerbeds, and a few marble angel statues holding some sort of ornament with patterns similar to the ones on the gate. It was creepy looking at them so you tried to ignore them up until you arrived at the front door. Although, it was hard not to notice as even the front door had them engraved.

“Violet, what are those?” you pointed at the door.

“Those are dreamcatchers, you’ll see them everywhere,” Minji explained instead of Gahyeon.

“They are all valuable so don’t touch them,” Gahyeon added before guiding you inside the mansion.

The word magnificent wasn't enough to describe it. If only there were a word for something terrifying yet grandiose. It was only the entrance, where you were greeted by a massive grand oval staircase solely lit by a crystal chandelier. Angels on both the left and right ends of the staircase, each holding their own dreamcatcher.

The light from the chandelier was not enough to illuminate the whole place, but it was enough for you to see the place with the sunroof helping with a little bit of illumination from the moon.

Minji was right, they were everywhere from the patterns of the stair railings, to many of them hanging in the ceiling, railings, and walls. Even the crystals of the chandelier looked like individual dreamcatchers on their own.

The open space was big enough to be a function hall. At the end of it, there was a hall with what seemed to be full rooms. Similar to the one in the middle, the left and right way had a hall passage leading to parts of the mansion that you haven’t seen yet.

The place had at least three floors but it seemed like the grand staircase connected only the first and second floors but you could see a third floor from the open space above. As you looked up again, there seemed to be a silhouette looking at the three of you.

“Someone is up there,” you pointed out to the two women.

“Probably one of our sisters,” Gahyeon answered.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Father’s bedroom.” Gahyeon took your hand again and you just followed her.

“Are there elevators in this massive place?” You asked them.

“What’s that?” Gahyeon asked back sincerely as if she had never seen an elevator before.

“Really?” You asked back, but she laughed loudly.

“Gahyeon, please not be too loud,” Minji

“Of course, I know what an elevator is. We just don’t have one. My father is an old-school grandpa so he didn’t like technology so much,” Gahyeon joked.

Come to think of it, she also didn’t have a cellphone.

Soon Minji headed for her room and you two headed for their Father’s bedroom. You assumed that their father was not in the mansion because they were renting his bedroom away, but you didn’t ask about it because it might be a sensitive topic.

The room was just as you had imagined but it didn’t fail to impress you. It was the master bedroom—a king-size bed, a walk-in closet full of unbranded tailored clothes, shoes, and accessories, a bathroom of its own, and other things that screamed wealth. Gahyeon had let you borrow most of it. It was embarrassing being treated so well, but she firmly assured you it was okay.

When you came out of the bathroom after freshening up, you looked at the balcony, where you found her watching the night sky. For a moment, you stared at her before she noticed you, smiled at you and gestured for you to join her. You thought to yourself as you walked towards her that she finally looked like the color she wanted to become. Violet.

Maybe more than that.

Ultra-violet.

“I’m your boyfriend?” you teased her as you leaned on the balcony railings. You stared at her while she continued watching the stars and the moon. Beautiful. You thought to yourself. It was picturesque, her glowing under the moonlight.

“Why do you not want to? Is this my first rejection?” She giggled.

“Wow, you’re just gonna turn me into a heartbreaker if I say no?”

Any guy would want to be hers. You were sure of it. You were not even sure if she was serious about the boyfriend thing. It was just an excuse to let her older sister let you inside the mansion. She was kind like that.

“I’m serious, be my boyfriend,” She declared as she slowly inched towards you until she was close… too close.

“Do you love me?” You asked, even though you knew what was the answer.

Her violet turned into pink. Weird.

“Hmm, I find you interesting and I think you’re cute. I like you, but I don’t think I love you yet,” She explained as you backed down a few steps away from her.

“How about you, Green? Do you love me?” She threw the question right back at you.

It feel like you two were playing the game again.

“You’re be—beautiful… You’re re—really nice. Kind. Although you’re kinda odd and weird, I think any man would fall in love with you.” She inched forward, once again in an uncomfortable distance.

Yellow.

Was your eye tricking you?

“I would love to be your boyfriend, but I don’t think it’s the right time to do so,” you blurted out nervously. She pouted. She smiled differently—almost bittersweetly.

Also, how could one truly love someone when one only has hate for themselves?

“Aish, what a heartbreaker.” She flicked your forehead before running inside the room.

Now once again, her usual Violet.

“Hey! What was that for?” You chased after, but she ran circles around you, outmaneuvering you using her speed, by throwing throw pillows at you or putting distance between the two of you using the furniture. You didn’t even know what you were going to do once you caught her but you kept chasing.

Up until she stepped into one of the pillows she threw earlier and slipped. Time slowed down, and in that moment, you tried to break her fall or maybe catch her from an impending disaster. You couldn’t catch her. Thankfully, she didn’t hit her head and instead, she fell onto the bed. You sighed in relief when you saw that she wasn’t hurt in any way. But there was something strange. Her cheeks turned rosy. She had let out a strange noise.

“I’m no longer pure,” she whispered… What did she mean by that?

That was when you realized, you fell into a position where you could only see in dramas or animations, a girl accidentally falling and the boy trying to catch her only to end up in an awkward position.

Maybe, fate was rather playful at that point as you felt your body press onto her. You could feel her soft body on yours, and her face… she was too close. Gahyeon was so close that it was only an inch keeping you two away from kissing. Luckily, it wasn’t that cringe trope where the guy accidentally grabbed the woman’s breast, but luck couldn’t suppress biology as your body reacted embarrassingly.

“Green, your thing… is pressing against me,” Gahyeon said shyly to which you quickly responded by jumping out of that position.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! It’s a natural thing!” You reasoned out, but she just laughed as she fixed herself.

“Pervert,” She whispered into your ear before kissing you on the cheek.

“Haha, you’re blushing, Green!” She teased as she walked to the door.

“That’s what you get for rejecting me,” Gahyeon said before leaving you speechless inside that massive room.

What?!

Why did she do that?!

What’s with her?!

You had so many questions, but you just retreated to the bed. So much happened, and meeting Gahyeon somehow made it bearable and for a moment you forget about all those hardships.

Gahyeon/Violet was really an oddball.

“Ultra-violet,” you muttered to yourself.

Maybe it was worth trying again at this complicated colorful life.

Somehow, it not being monochrome was great as before it once had her, and now it has Violet.

Tomorrow would be a great day, you thought to yourself before closing your eyes.

What kind of questions should you ask her tomorrow?

The next day came full of anticipation. The questions still lingered.

Her kiss.

Her smile.

Her color.

That brightness.

They all lingered.

You opened the door of the master room only to be greeted by the warmth of the bright yellow sun. The sunroof filled the mansion with natural light. Light creates the ambiance of the place, as well as the expression of the structure. The wealthy took this to heart. What kind of family do they even have to afford this?

This place wasn’t so creepy after all. The marble statues, and the dreamcatchers. Maybe the dark tense vibe of the night made it creepy. The master room/Gahyeon’s father's room was located on the third floor and the fact that the mansion was vast meant it was a trip to even to the second floor.

You hummed as you walked and tried to reflect on what happened yesterday. You remembered Gahyeon’s pen, you remember putting it inside your pockets. You checked if it was still there, and to your surprise, something else was inside your pocket.

A note that said the following:

“Don’t trust anyone. Don’t keep this note. Swallow it.”

Chills went down your spine. What does this even mean? Is this a prank?

“AHH!” a scream came from below. The first floor.

Does this mean the note is not a prank?

What’s happening?

Before you could even think straight, you just did as the note said. You crumpled it and swallowed it whole before heading to the first floor. Suddenly, you remembered something from yesterday.

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green.”

You completely forgot about what she said. Your steps became heavier, but you found yourself running the flight of stairs.

Hearts were booming. Imagination was going wild. Anxiety kicked in.

It only got worse when you arrived at the grand staircase when you saw something hanging off the chandelier. The steps felt endless. You closed your eyes. You could only wish that your eyes were lying to you.

It’s not real, right?

Open your eyes. Look again.

Her smile.

Her color.

You reached the bottom.

That was when the high came crashing down as you looked at a scene that would haunt you forever. It hit hard before, but it hit harder today. Your hope was quite literally hanging in front of your eyes. It didn’t crash down. It floated, and it would never reach the ground.

That was when the colors faded.

There was so much to ask.

But there was no more chance.

A game played by one person would not be fun at all.

It was your turn after all.

Ask the question.

As your tears flew down your cheeks endlessly, they were crawling slowly from behind, hugging you. A weight on your shoulders. A blow of air right beside your ear whispered. It was a feeling you know of too much already.

Her hugs.

The way she held your hand.

The way her lips curved when she smiled.

Her bright color.

“It’s your turn, Green.” That was her sweet kind voice, but how could it be? How could it be her when she was literally hanging in front of your eyes?

“Violet,” you called her name, “who killed you?”

The game continues.

This is for a good friend of mine. Thank you for waiting for this after so many months of hiatus.

Not as good as I was and maybe too many errors but here it is.

#reader insert #kofi commission #panchatea #kpop #dreamcatcher

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