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#her head shape was so weird at first...
eveledoze · 19 days
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nothing is ready yet, have process of the art with Nori and Uzi
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it seems like you didn’t mind seeing this soooo (it’s so unusual to post something like this)
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sysig · 8 months
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Okay actually, the OG Just Desserts style was onto something (Patreon)
#Doodles#Villainsona#Just Desserts#And also ft. the last little bit of the WOY style attempts#They were what convinced me to look at the original style doodles! Looking for poses#I started just by going back to the early TVAU doodles to give one more proper fair shake to those rejected outfits#Wouldn't you know it they're still rejected lol but! The wings are still very good#And the poses are silly lol#She is always real cute tho <3#It does feel funny going back to her early doodles and trying to style-match - my style was much looser at the time#Which is part of why her hair looks so good - those swirls are wild! It's very cool! But it's hard to replicate now :0#You can kinda see it in how hard and dark the lines are in her hair - before it'd basically be a scribble nest haha#Both have their aesthetic placement I just hrmm#I miss it a bit#There's something almost uncanny about trying to go back now - sizing maybe? Proportions? I'm not sure#She was always meant to have that chibi proportion big head and simplified body so maybe it's her neck being so visible that's throwing me??#I do like the small collar tho! It's gotten a little out of control lately haha ♪ Save that for alt outfits!#The weird shape of her hairline was a bit contributor to her overall hair shape as well - lots of little details! It's neat#That crying one has gotten two redraws now haha ironically not to actually ''improve'' just to dissect what's Up lol#I am happier with this one compared to the first redraw tho :D Her feet and ankles especially they actually make shape-sense!#And I have to admit the big flowery-bubble looking tops of her shoes it's very cute and the larger bonbons - proportions! Who knew lol#Her spinning the Staff was always one of my favourites hehe ♪ Confident and cheeky little Charm#Good for her
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southislandwren · 6 months
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So basically I’ve been spreading the phrase “silly quirky” around my department kind of to show that we all have little quirks and it’s okay to be different, and people have adopted it and generally use it in good faith, but I have a theory (with good evidence) that the freshman just genuinely does not like autistic people, and it’s making me really bummed out since she’s one of my close friends :(
#there’s this guy that’s almost definitely on the spectrum because he’s just like me fr and we get along really well#and he left for class and freshman IMMEDIATELY went ‘he’s always creeped me out. he’s so weird’#girl how can you say that about him :( he’s just living his life and getting a degree like us#and another guy joked about freshman being ‘low functioning’ (bad joke. i know. but this is SD it’s just part of life here)#and she got soooo bent out of shape about it. she really crossed a line from ‘joking’ to straight up micro aggressions (dude is black)#and idk. it’s rich coming from her because she’s ADHD and she should really be on our side#but like. sure tease and bully the people who are silly quirky.#i think I’m going to call her out soon bc I’m reaching my snapping point#yes I’m feeling like this because she was mean to my crush and called him creepy#but also she complains and is mean nonstop. i feel like I need to stop that before someone gets hurt#and it’ll probably be one of the silly quirky people who breaks first.#it would feel sooo good to be like ‘you know what? you’re being a bully right now and I’m not going to tolerate that.’#and then get up and leave. or say something like when was the last time you said something nice about someone?#honestly she depends on me quite a bit for schoolwork help. so I think if i refuse to help her it’ll really drive my point home#but idk. i sit next to her in class 4x a week so it would be awkward#i mean I am perfectly capable of being nice and polite despite how I’m feeling#but I don’t think she’s capable of that. luckily though I have a good reputation with our profs#and she is slowly digging herself a grave. we’ve all watched them slowly get more tired of her shit#the snarky comments during class. the joking around at inappropriate times.#like if this comes to a head I’ll come out on top due to pure reputation let alone my anti-bullying stance#idk. im thirsty and then i gotta go to bed#we’ll see what happens tomorrow but I think im done listening to her shit talk people#diary post#oh also she found out who my crush is on (because she was being mean to him) and she was like you told religious friend before me?? :(#like take a step back and look at how you’re reacting. you told me to stop having a crush on him because he’s creepy and weird.#religious friend was supportive and offered to give me his number.#she thinks she’s so important to me but honestly after I graduate I’ll probably only talk to her like twice a year or whatever#idk. now IM being the bully and that’s not cool of me. I’m just frustrated I think and I’ll be better tomorrow#(also advisor said I was ALWAYS on his good side so huge win for me ❤️❤️❤️❤️)#(and he said I’m not being manipulative by being nice to people I’m not really a fan of. so suck on that freshman 🖕)
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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months
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High Demand
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ꕤ- Pairing: Dealer! Jungkook x Reader
ꕤ- WC: 2.6k
ꕤ- A modern day Romeo and Juliet
Content: college student! reader, grumpy jk, brief texting! au, jk is lowkey whipped, drug use (marijuana), reader is his special customer, vaping, opposites attract, suggestive themes, minor jealousy, idiots in love (but they won't admit it), shot gunning, grinding, fwb?
Other Content: thigh riding, high sex, jk titty appreciation, unprotected sex (no.), hand job, soft dom kook, reader is a little needy, brief switch! koo, hickeys, pet names, spit, biting.
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Shaking your head with a small giggle as you looked at your phone before tossing it aside. You're totally his favourite. You know he's stubborn and he would never admit it but deep down he loves delivering to you the most.
Looking around your sad and dimly lit dorm, all the lights were off and your roommate was gone for the weekend doing god knows what with her weird ass biology major boyfriend who would collect rabbit tails in jars for 'science'.
You were looking at one right now actually, it seems they left one behind, on the coffee table. It was just fermenting in... you actually weren't sure and didn't want to know.
Your eyes felt like they were on fire the longer you looked at the stupid philosophy paper you were writing. The bright light from your laptop was beginning to drill into your head. Your head lolled to the side glancing at the time on your phone.
It was almost 11:30, and time for a break. Abandoning the device on the couch for a quick wake-up shower; by the time you'd gotten changed and returned to the living room, you could expect Jungkook any minute now.
Except, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He's always late.
That's why when you heard the familiar rattling of the rusty fire escape you were startled. It was a little past midnight. Climbing through the window in nothing but your basketball shorts and a white tee.
Pleasantly surprised to see Jungkook scaling the platform with a bag of takeout pinned in between his teeth. The sight of you looking down at him from where he climbed made his eyebrows raise but of course he couldn't say anything.
Not until he was finally close enough for you to grab the bag from his mouth and he stands up. You climb back inside first with him following behind with a pained sigh. "I'm so sick of coming here. Got me climbing walls like its fucking subway surfers." He curses while you place the food down on the table.
Completely ignoring him, practically drooling as you slowly peeled open the bag. "And I thought you said you weren't gonna bring me anything." He snatches the bag.
"I didn't."
You let yourself fall onto the couch, arms crossed and unbelieving. "Oh yeah? So you just coincidentally craved Wendy's and decided to haul it up three flights up a ladder from your mouth when you could've just eaten it in the car?"
"Yeah exactly." He shrugs, obviously lying.
"Give me the bag, Jungkook."
"Fine. But I'm charging you extra for the delivery and the labour of bringing it up here." He hands it to you and you roll your eyes knowing it was nothing more than a bluff.
"It's not my fault you're out of shape," you mumble unwrapping the burger. "Oh yeah? Is this what out of shape looks like to you?" He says it almost offended but challenged.
Choking briefly on your food as he lifts up his shirt, revealing the defined abs that you have such lewd memories of. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You try climbing 3 flights up a ladder and tell me it's easy." You shrug,
"Not my fault you're banned from the campus." He drops himself down beside you, reaching for the bag of fries and taking some for himself. "But it is, if you hadn't called me to drop off a stash for Angelica's dorm party maybe I could still take the stairs."
You drop your half-eaten burger with apologetic eyes, "How was I supposed to know they were doing random security checks in the lobby? At least you didn't get arrested." You pout and he scoffs.
"Bare minimum." He says via grumpy mutter under his breath so you offered up the rest of your food to him as a peace offering. A little sad that he actually took it but you were getting full anyway.
As he finished up the rest of your food you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "So do you still do drops with Angelica?" He nods with his mouth full of the last bite, stuffing the wrappers back in the bag.
"How often does she call you?-- for deliveries I mean." He chuckles, licking his lips, "Jealous?" You take the trash off the coffee table and bring it to the kitchen to toss it in the garbage. "You're delusional."
"I can't help it if I'm in high demand." He manspreads, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. "Just shut up. Do you have my pen?" He reaches for the pocket inside his leather jacket, pulling out the slim box.
Already knowing that you were going to use it now, he began to unbox it while you collected the cash you needed. "40 right?" You say handing him the small spread of bills, "Yeah, but for you, I guess I could make it 30." He shrugs conceitedly.
"Because I'm your favourite." You say and he shakes his head, "No. Because I ate your food." Which he paid for but you didn't dare to say that out loud, you were getting cheap weed.
"So who's your favourite then Jungkook?" He hands you the pen, "Listen. I don't climb up the fire escape when I do deliveries for Angelica, I make her come to me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Trying to tug the pen out of his grasp but he holds it firm until you respond, "I guess I can work with that." He smiles softly, letting you take the first hit as his arm wraps around your shoulder.
The two of you passed the pen back and forth, with little giggles here and there and wide eyes on the episode of SpongeBob that was playing.
By now the dark living room is illuminated by nothing more than your roommate's lava lamp and a strip of purple LEDs' taped behind the TV. You could see the smoke as it floated past the few sources of light.
"Open." He directs, taking a particularly long hit, leaning into you and blowing the pungent smoke into your mouth, sucking it in from his lips.
The pen is now forgotten as it rolls between the cracks of the couch. Straddling Jungkook's muscular thigh as he flexed it every now and then, taking hits from his blueberry Ice vape and blowing it to the ceiling, giving you a prime view of his sharp jaw under the soft purple lighting.
The sight made you shake, gyrating your hips almost desperately as you chased the feeling of friction on his denim-clad thigh. "You like that? You feel good fucking yourself on my thigh?" The question was rhetorical, you were too dazed to answer him anyway.
Your heavy-lidded gaze slowly rolls up to his pretty face once you feel his hand move from your hips to gently wrap around your neck, not applying any pressure, just there to let you feel the weight of his hand. "Answer me," He says, and you fall forward "Yess, feels so good." You moan, and Jungkook has danced this dance with you enough to see you were close.
But of course, he couldn't let you cum so soon, not yet. His hands flew to your hips and pinned you down on his thigh, restricting your range of motion. "Please," You beg and he wishes he had a little more willpower but he couldn't say no to you, not when you looked so fucked out when he's barely touched you.
"Fuck. Take your shirt off." Leaning back and crossing your arms over the base of the shirt, you pried it off your body desperately. Leaving you in your black lacy bra and it pulled out a guttural groan from Jungkook's chest.
"You little whore." he grits through his clenched teeth, grip tightening on the arm of the couch nearly ripping the fabric.
This position was no longer giving him what he so desperately craved. Shrugging the jacket from off his shoulders and taking off the tank top underneath letting your eyes roam over his built upper body, oh how you wanted to just...
Without thinking your tongue striped up the expanse of his bulky pecs. This was new, but Jungkook was so high out of his mind anything and everything you did felt like he was on cloud 9.
Your mouth dropped down to wrap around his rosy nipples and you could've never anticipated the worked-up reaction you got from him. "Oh shit, shit shit." He gasps, hands gripping your waist tight enough that you're sure there will be bruises by the morning.
Letting your tongue lap around his nipples with pure hunger, an inexplicable flame burning in your core as you were finally the one who got to watch the other be reduced to a moaning mess.
His once soft moans turned a little breathy and high-pitched, His hips bucked causing you to jolt in his lap, he was getting close.
"Didn't think you'd like having your tits played with so much?" You tease him but he didn't find the humour in it. He holds you by the throat once more, this time applying a generous amount of pressure, pushing you off him.
Unbuckling his belt and you knew what that meant. He slides out of his pants, followed by the boxers that were the last barrier between your moistened lips and his throbbing cock. "Let's put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" He hums, watching as you sink to your knees, hand carefully wrapped around his base, starting with slow pumps.
"Spit on it." Doing as told, you let a wad of spit fall from your pretty, plush lips and coat the shaft of his dick, you worked your palm up his length. Already satisfied with the way his head was thrown back.
"Just like that," Reaching for the vape, he takes a few good hits, the head rush mixed with the pleasure had him seeing stars-- the object falling from his hands immediately the moment he felt the warm heat of your mouth wrap around his sensitive tip.
"Y/n-" He breathes out, almost scared, he was so close, too soon. He's never struggled to hold himself back this badly before. What were you doing to him?
The obscene sounds of you choking as you struggled to take all of him in your mouth, letting your nose touch the soft, trimmed hairs near his base. Focusing on breathing through your nose before you felt a heavy hand on the back of your head, pushing you lower.
You were quite literally slobbering on his dick, gagging with every buck of his hips. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well--Shit. Mouth feels like fucking heaven." His praise rushes to your core and has your left hand trailing down to rub yourself through your lace underwear.
The rough friction being more than enough to get you there, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Where-- Shit!-- Where do you want it?" He gasps, his hips snapping, pushing his length down your throat almost erratically. You don't answer, only hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, making your desires clear.
Your own fingers quickening their pace, your own sounds travelling through his dick in vibrations and pushing him right over the edge with you, filling your mouth with his warm cum.
Swallowing as if it were second nature. "Stick out your tongue," He says softly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his composure from his overwhelming climax. Your tongue was out and cleared of any of his cum and it made him crazy.
He remembers the first time he'd brought an order to you over 6 months ago. He thought you were nothing more than a cute little philosophy major, never did he think he'd have you beneath him like he does right now.
Looking up at him, daring to give you an almost angelic gaze while the two of you ruined each other. Tainting each other with your own touches. "Kiss me?" You ask it so cutely, tempting him with the pout on your lips. You weren't being fair.
His body didn't give him a choice before his lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. The feeling of his solid dick rolling against your skin making the butterflies go ramped in your stomach.
The way you licked over his bottom lip with your own made Jungkook weak, stumbling on his elbows as he held himself up over you. Soft groans could be heard the deeper the kiss became.
Messy and intimate. Your hand crept up the back of his neck to tug at the dark locks of hair on his head. There was a loud pop and the two of you paused.
With Jungkook between your legs and with you under him, your heads turned slowly towards the coffee table where the jar was, dedicated to the fermenting rabbit tail. "What the fuck is that?" Jungkook slowly sits up, "My roommate's boyfriend's weird biology shit. I dunno, it freaks me out too." You sit up, now remembering what the two of you were in the middle of doing.
"That shit's not gonna blow up or anything right." You gently peck him on the lips but his brain seems preoccupied by the jar, "who knows," you say, kissing right under his ear and that seemed to get him to zone in on you.
Catching his bottom lip under his teeth as your kisses became more eager, suckling on a certain spot on his neck, his head falling back against his will. "Fuck, Y/n-- Don't you dare." You pull off his soft skin with a soft pop, admiring the burgundy bruise left behind.
"Oops." Your apology was ingenuine and bratty, and Jungkook hated brats.
Tearing you out of your final pieces of clothing before manhandling you into his lap. "Sit on it." He demands and you follow without question. Moaning out loud as his dick spread your lips apart like butter.
Sliding down with ease and a stretch of your velvety walls that were currently squeezing Jungkook for everything he's got and he's got nothing left, everything was yours.
"I-Shit! You feel so good, Kook!" He couldn't bother to correct you on the annoying nickname you were incessant on using. "Yeah? You like that- fuck, you feel so good." He curses, bucking his hips up into you as you raise your hips trying to match his thrusts.
He was fucking you so good, so ruthlessly, your head falls onto his shoulder and you needed more than just the couch to hold on to, your teeth sank into the muscular meat of his shoulder and his pace faltered.
"Shit shit shit! Do that again." He groans, picking up an inhumane pace that had you bouncing all over the place until he stilled you in his arms. His grunts and breathy moans came out right beside your ear only pushing you to your orgasm faster.
"J-jungkook-!" You pant, unable to speak, feeling like your insides are being rearranged, "Me too, baby. Cum with me." You finish first, and with a few more unsynchronized snaps of his hips, you were being filled to the brim with his cum.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of muffled music playing from your neighbour's next door and laboured breaths. Jungkook gently lays you down on the couch beside him, staring into your eyes.
This felt so intimate. You felt his gaze deeper than just behind your eyes, it was as if he was looking into your soul. His eyes were tinted red as he looked at you with an adoring gaze. "You're cute." He says it casually as though he hadn't just fucked you.
Your eyes roll before they close, feeling the sleepiness begin to kick in. "Bet you say that to all your customers." Mumbling the words into his chest while he began to grin a little.
"Nope. Only to my favourite." Your eyes shoot open.
"I knew it."
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jazjelspen · 3 months
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my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
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"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
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As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
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purplesuitcowboy · 25 days
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tw: incest (brother/sister) , dubcon (she consents but doesn't really know what she's consenting too)
A quiet gasp escaped Isabelle's lips and she watched her parents from a crack in the door. Her mother was laid out on their bed and her father was hovering over her, moving vigorously. With every snap of her father's hips, a pleasurable moan or gasp escaped her mother's lips. Isabelle didn't exactly understand what she was seeing but she felt a warm feeling developing between her legs that she'd never experienced before. Hesitantly, she touched between her legs, rubbing at her panty covered mound. She thought touching it might make the feeling go away but it just made it worse.
Isabelle heard a noise behind her and quickly yanked her hand away. Anxiously looking for the source of the sound, she looked down the hall. She relaxed when she saw that it was just Michael her older brother. He shot her a confused looked and she placed a finger over her mouth, telling him to keep quiet. She wasn't sure what her parents were doing but she felt strongly that whatever it was, they wouldn't appreciate her looking.
"What are you doing?" he whispers to her. She squirms as his hot breath tickles her ear.
She just points to the gap in the door, and steps away so that he can take her place and look through.
"What are they doing?" She asked him, peering at them over his shoulder.
"Fucking," he told her bluntly. She wrinkled her nose at the word, repeating it back at him as a question.
He turned away from them and towards her. "Be quiet and I'll show you," he replied. He grabbed her by her shoulders, turned her, and pushed her forward so that her cheek rested against the wall. He stood close behind her, his chest against her back and his hard cock against her ass. He slipped one of his hands down her panties, running his fingers against her wet slit.
"Someone's excited, hm?" He asked her, voice low and rough in her ear, as he pushed a thick finger into her tight channel. "Oh, fuck. Your little pussy's so tight."
"W-wait, Michael. I don't know about this. I feel weird," she protested. He just shushed her. "Be quite. You don't want them to hear you, do you?" He added another finger and scissored his fingers, stretching out her hole. Drenched in her liquids, he pulled his fingers out of her cunt and circled her clit. Isabelle groaned and panted at the sensations. It was weird but it felt so good. She didn't ever want him to stop. Eye's closed, head back, and mouth open, his sister grinded her delicious little pussy against his fingers.
"Yeah, just like that. Good girl," he told her.
"What's happening? I dont-"
"Just let it happen. Come on, Bella. Cum on my fingers."
Cum? She didn't know what that meant but that didn't stop the feeling from overwhelming her. Isabelle had her first ever orgasm on her big brothers fingers, outside of their parents bedroom. Michael didn't give her a lot of time to bathe in the after glow of her orgasm. Quickly, he pulled his hard cock out of his sleep pants and pulled her panties to the side, positioning himself against her entrance. He locked eyes with her as he began to slowly push his fat cock into her tight channel. He watched her mouth take on a little "o" shape and her eye roll back into her skull as she was slowly split open by his cock.
"God, look at you. You look so good on my big dick."
After what felt like a short eternity, he was balls deep. He rested his head against her shoulder as he took several deep breaths, trying to collect himself.
She was so hot and tight around him, it was almost overwhelming. Isabelle whined and rocked her hips against him, trying to get him to move. Her pussy hurt, stretched at it was around his cock, but she'd had her taste of pleasure and she wanted more. Michael pulled out until only the head of his dick was in her pussy and then thrust his hips, filling her completely. Isabelle moaned loudly and Michael slapped his hand over her mouth. He could hear their mother talking in the bed room but couldn't quite make out what she was saying. They stood there quietly for a moment, just listening. There was a grumble of a reply from their father and then that was it.
Slowly, as not to make much noise, Michael thrust in and out of his sisters cunt. Isabelle, pushed at his thigh, trying to tell him to stop but he grabbed her hands and held them above her head. They'd come this far, he wasn't stopping until he came. With his free hand, he rubbed at Belle's clit and she quickly regained her previous enthusiasm.
It wasn't long until she cumming on his cock, panting and writhing while trying to stay quiet. As she came, her cunt clenched tightly around Michael's dick pushing him over the edge. He shot his load deep into her unprotected pussy. He knew she wasn't on any kind of birth control so it wasn't unreasonable to think that she might be carrying his kid soon. The thought of breeding her fertile cunt was more than enough to inspire a second round. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her tight snatch, his cum dribbled out of her cunt and down her legs.
"I'm not done with you yet," he told her as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his bedroom.
He laid her out on his bed. Spread out on his sheets, she was ripe for the taking. He pulled off her soiled panties and threw them onto his floor. In the safety of his bedroom, he could take his time and enjoy her properly.
"This," he told her, pointing to her pussy," belongs to me now."
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fairy-hub · 2 days
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“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! first time w toji, virgin!reader, reader is lil insecure about how her coochie looks and her performance, just the tip/fucking you with his tip, HEAVY praise/encouragement & reassurance, light begging, toji take its slow and is soft soft soft for you, forehead kisses, hand holding during sex is so sweet, light making out, overstimulation/hints of mind break, very light size kink, daddy/mama
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Do you think Toji would be gentle if it was your first time having sex? Just imagine him rubbing his tip against our entrance and being like “relax for me, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
Fey: we can take a moment to appreciate soft toji after some mean toji
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Toji grinds his hard, heavy cock on your soft cunt. The feeling is so surreal and new to you, the warmth of his cock, the softness of his skin with how hard and heavy he is.
Toji’s weight is comforting when he leans over you. Softly kissing your forehead then encouraging you, “‘You can take me lil mama, we’re gonna go slow,” gently grabbing your hand “Squeeze my hand for comfort, how’s this sound, say blue if it gets too much.”
Sitting up grabbing his thick hard cock and lining himself up with your soaking wet cunt. Slowly rubbing his cock between your soft lips. “Your lips are so pretty mama, I love seeing them around my cockhead.” Your cheeks heat up as you look away.
“You’re staring too much! My pussy looks weird! Nnnn!” Your jaw drops when he nudges his thick cock head in. The pleasure is stronger than the acute discomfort which quickly melts as Toji strokes your clit.
Clenching Toji’s cock he croons, “We can't be looking at the same pretty lil’ cunt. She’s so soft, wet and fuckin’ gorgeous, I wanna take my time with her.” Toji keeps still groaning when you clench his fat head.
It feels so wonderful but strange having someone else touching your soft clit while they’re inside of you. When you close your eyes Toji gently squeezes your hand.
“Beautiful mama I need you to look at me.” When you look at him he smiles, “Good girl.” He glides some of his cock in and you jolt, tensing up, your nerves getting the best of you. “
He slowly pulls out leaving half his head inside you. He croons, “Relax for me mama, trust me to take good care of your gorgeous lil’ cunt.” Taking the moment to admire how your little hole is stretching when he pushes the rest of his head in.
“I can't stop watching her take me. Everything about your pussy is beautiful, the color, your shape of your lips n’ how soft you feel around me, fuck lil mama. Tell me you have a gorgeous cunt.” The way he is playing with your clit is making it hard to think.
“Nnngonna cum?! Daddy? How? I already?” Your head is going fuzzy from the intense euphoric high of cumming again.
Toji croons, “Go ahead lil’ mama cum on ya daddy’s cock.” Twisting your hips he glides his cock out.” You’re doing so good.” Stroking your clit faster as your soaking wet cunt spasms around nothing and soaks the bed.
“You can handle it, that’s it, you’re doing so good cumming. Ya can keep going.” Biting your bottom lip as he lines himself back up. He barely nudges his head in. “Say you have a beautiful cunt, if you want more than just the tip.”
Pushing your hips down whilst pleading, “I have a beautiful cunt! Please put it in, I want you to cum too!” Toji doesn't have it in him to pull away. Rolls his hips gliding in half his cock before restraining himself.
He insists, “What’s it? You’ll have to be clearer for me, look me in the eyes when you say it.” His smokey gray blue eyes are too intense, your nerves hit you full force. “Aw are you really getting shy with my cock in ya?”
Admitting to Toji, “No…I’m getting nervous again, nnn!” You feel so full as he fucks you with half his cock. “You’re too hoooot!” He. I like you a little too much, it's making me nervous how I'm doing and what you’re thinking.”
He leaves your sensitive clit alone and pins your thigh by your side. “‘I’m thinking about how I want to flip you over and fuck ya from behind so I can watch your ass bounce while you take me. But backshots might be a bit much for your first time.” Holding your hand above your head, he leans down and gives you a soft kiss.
It feels so good to be underneath him full of his cock while softly making out with him. Wrapping one leg around his waist, digging your nails into his well-sculpted backside.
Moaning into Toji’s soft slow passionate kiss, sliding your fingers into his soft dark hair. Toji keeps his pace slow and steady, fucking you a little deeper, rubbing your sweet spot and wrecking every thought.
It’s hard to be nervous when his cock is deep in your guts. When he pulls away you beg, “I can take your fat cock daddy please! I wanna make you feel good too! Lemme take your cock from the back while you hold my wrists together. I wanna try every position possible with you.” He pulls out and flips you over.
Toji can easily hold your wrists behind your back with one hand. “I can’t tell my lil’ mama no with you begging me like that. But first tell me how sexy your soaking wet cunt is.” Rubbing his cock between your soft lips.
all works
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twi-liight · 9 months
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Petty Jealousy ❣
Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!
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“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 
5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 
“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 
Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”
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Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 
Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 
 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 
“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 
“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 
“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 
“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 
“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 
Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.
“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 
Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 
Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.
“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 
He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”
“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 
If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 
He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.
“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 
Yes. They all nod their heads. 
“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 
Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 
“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 
They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 
Unbearably unaware of their true nature.
Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 
The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 
“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 
How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 
No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.
Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 
"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."
Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.
“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”
“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 
Excellent. 
“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 
“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 
“Karlach!” 
“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 
“Gale?!” 
“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”
“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
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rene-spade · 3 months
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my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid
growing up leclerc au !
fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family
part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes
synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red
WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut
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carlos sainz.
“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.
“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.
You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.
“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.
“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.
With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.
“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.
“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.
“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”
“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)
“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.
He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”
“Why? Got anything weird?”
“Don’t say things like that, amor!”
♤ ♤ ♤
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daniel ricciardo.
“Danny…?”
“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.
“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”
He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.
As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”
“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.
Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.
“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.
“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.
You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”
“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”
♤ ♤ ♤
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max verstappen.
It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.
So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.
“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”
Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)
“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”
“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.
“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.
“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.
“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”
He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”
You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.
“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”
♤ ♤ ♤
oscar piastri.
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“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.
“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.
“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Then get closer, I’m hot.”
You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.
“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.
You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”
“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”
“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.
“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”
You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.
You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.
Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”
Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”
“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”
♤ ♤ ♤
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pierre gasly. | kika gomes.
“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.
Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.
“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)
Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.
“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.
Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.
“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.
The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.
“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.
“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”
You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”
“I’ll get it for her, mate.”
“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”
♤ ♤ ♤
Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.
note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles
thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?
- ren
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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists
↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem
• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it
• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day
• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks
• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it
• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it
• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates
• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees
• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’
• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion
• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”
• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded
• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it
• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “
• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him
• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in
• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”
• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter
• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”
• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room
• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all
• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move
• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron
• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments
• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!
• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar
• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day
• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same
• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words
• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed
• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule
• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal
• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket
• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”
• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face
• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door
• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe
• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them
• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone
• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 
• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily
• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”
• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”
• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that
• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something
• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond
• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter
• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged
• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately
• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head
• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him
• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so
• An eye twitch
• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 
• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all
• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms
• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“
• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird
• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."
• "Agreed."
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iwanthermidnightz · 10 months
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When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.
I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.
In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.
In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.
I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.
I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.
I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.
I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.
Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.
I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.
These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.
I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.
I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.
Yours,
Taylor
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seattlesellie · 9 months
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e. williams — moonflower.
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.
warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.
an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗
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enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.
the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.
⋆˙⟡♡
you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.
“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.
“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”
louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.
“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”
“how come?”
“it simply shows, pumpkin’”
louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.
ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.
it reminded you of her.
⋆˙⟡♡
ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.
“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”
“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”
you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”
ellie’s breath caged in her throat.
it already does.
“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.
if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.
if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.
⋆˙⟡♡
sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”
you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.
“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡
the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.
balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.
“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”
you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.
joel.
you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.
you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.
“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.
“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”
joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.
“she’s still into it, huh?”
“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.
“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.
“found it last week while i was patrollin’”
“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.
“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.
“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”
joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”
you nearly choked up.
“joel… you should come with me”
joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.
“maybe next birthday, kid”
joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.
⋆˙⟡♡
12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…
well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.
again.
usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”
“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.
when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.
would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.
instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.
it was her morning voice.
funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.
“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”
“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.
“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.
“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”
the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.
the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.
you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”
ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.
“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.
“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”
she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.
“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.
“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.
ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”
ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.
“can’t taste my own cake?”
“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.
“yes ma’am”
⋆˙⟡♡
you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.
impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.
you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”
“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.
“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”
before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!
she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.
for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.
“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”
ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”
ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?
maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.
laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;
“hey” she whispers.
“hi” you whisper back.
ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”
impatient.
you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”
she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”
ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.
“apollo one”
she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.
“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.
⋆˙⟡♡
apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”
ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”
interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.
“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.
“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”
that she hasn’t. yet.
ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.
“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”
sweet? intoxicating?
“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”
nah, she thinks she might be something worse.
slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.
“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.
“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.
“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”
“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.
slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.
“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”
“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?
she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?
her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.
thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.
“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…
“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.
“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.
you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”
“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.
“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“
oh.
ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.
“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.
“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.
“i have wasps”
“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.
“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.
her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.
doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”
“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.
this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.
⋆˙⟡♡
so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.
with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.
what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?
“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.
shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.
besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.
“so… you wanna open them up or not?”
she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)
“fuck yeah”
you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.
the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.
what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—
“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!
“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”
ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…
“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.
“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”
she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.
“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.
“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”
you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…
“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.
“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”
you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.
“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.
“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”
ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.
one whole minute passes.
“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.
you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.
“i’m in love with you”
you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?
“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.
she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…
you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.
like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.
when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.
“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.
still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.
you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.
swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”
she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.
“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.
with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.
with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”
you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”
“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”
you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.
she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“
“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.
“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?
“explode!”
“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.
you’re fuzzy everywhere.
“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”
you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.
as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.
you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”
“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”
“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—
“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”
when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.
she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”
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hybridirl · 3 months
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who first?
18+ only, please!
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ellie x f!loser!reader x abby
a/n: sorry for the long wait! i was with my family the past week celebrating a holiday :)!! now i’m back and i’m gonna try and pump out a few. i am in fact working on the ellie x loser!reader pt2, so pls bear with me! i’m still thinking up ideas. this shit is harddd
brief summary: ellie and abby are the bestest of friends, and you’re… there. they kinda feel bad for you, so they bring home some of the “good shit” for a game. never have i ever? with shots. reversed. haven’t done it? drink!!!
tw / AU, *DUBCON* (reader is drunk (but so is ellie and abby)), strap-on, use of y/n, cunnilingus (r and e receiving), tit-slapping, porn no plot, rushed sex, threesome, reader gets referred to as “girl”
ᡣ𐭩
watching tiktoks for hours on end was never your proudest pastime, especially when your two roommates were constantly out partying. you, honestly, were a third wheel. well, to be fair, you came into this friendship way after these two had already been established as this inseparable duo. still, being a friend - even if it’s not as deep - doesn’t mean you should be excluded from their little activities.
so, this is how your night has gone so far: moping around, trying to bake some cookies you found on tiktok, and binging tiktok. you sat on the island of the kitchen, a frown plastered on your face as you munched on your fifth cookie.
you glanced at the clock: 11:35 PM. you knew exactly what this meant; one of them is slutting themselves out while the other waits to drive themselves home. god, how it aggravated you! - how easily they could get into someone’s pants by just looking at them while you had to ease your way into it. that slow, smooth talking you, except it rarely ever worked and you came off as a creep. the pickup lines from reddit don’t seem to work in reality, huh?
pulling yourself off the counter and shoving the last piece of cookie into your mouth, you wondered why you stayed up until they came back. maybe you were just a little afraid to go to sleep alone, maybe you were just simply lonely. you wanted them to come home, tell you about their day and get envious at their friendship that you weren’t in on and that you didn’t have. poor you. you were like a watchdog, always staying up and looking out until your ‘owners’ came along, praising you for your good work so you could get your little dopamine rush. you even whimpered, just a little, as you sat on the couch to watch some cheesy drama movie that you had zero interest in. about thirty minutes in, the door opens. you turn your head and watch your two acquaintances walk in, both holding a suspiciously shaped brown bag.
“hey,” you greet, “what’re those?” you pointed toward the bags in their hands.
“just stuff for you,” ellie chirped first, setting the bag on the coffee table.
“us, she means,” abby cut in, setting hers down. you watched as they revealed what was shielded from her viewing: two tall bottles of ‘devil’s spring vodka.’
you cocked your head to the side and spoke, “for us? what for?” they gave you a ‘what do you think?’ look before ellie headed off to get three shot glasses. she placed one in front of you, abby, and herself.
“so, y/n,” abby began, popping the top and pouring some into each glass. “we know you’re lonely and we thought we’d do something for you, huh? sound good?” you pursed your lips and nodded, completely weirded out by this interaction.
“we’re gonna play a game,” ellie said, circling her glass with her hands. “it’s like ‘never have i ever.’ ever played?” you nodded. “good. so, each time someone says something you haven’t done, you take a shot. got it?” you nod again. “a—lright, you guys ready?” abby smiles and raises her hand.
“i’ll go first,” she told, an obvious mischievous glint in her eye, “let’s start of tame. so, y/n, have you ever… kissed someone in public? i’m not talking a little peck, i’m talking seriously making out.” your face heated, and your jaw dropped just slightly. you thought about lying, of course, just to seem cool, but, you knew they’d know.
“i-i… no, i haven’t,” you muttered out, shakily reaching your hand toward your glass. you took a sip, wincing at the burn in your throat.
“c’mon, y/n, the whole thing,” ellie chuckled at your ministrations. you whimpered silently before your head tilted back, gulping the rest down.
“ugh,” you groaned as you set it down and watched as ellie pour more into your glass. you had a feeling this was going to be a long night.
“okay, my turn,” ellie giggled, looking at the two of you. “okay, y/n, have you ever… had someone motorboat you?” your brows furrowed immediately.
“m-motorboat? i, well, um… no.”
“drink up then, girl.” they watched as you took another brave shot, your face contorting into what looked like pain, and, to be fair, it was painful.
you were about to speak, for your turn, but abby interrupted quickly, barely even noticing your open mouth, “my turn, huh?” abby questioned. your jaw shut right back up, letting her take the lead. letting her do her thing. “so, y/n, ever, i don’t know, let’s get a little crazier with this one, yeah? ever been in a threesome?”
you stared at abby with wide eyes, why are they asking you this stuff? why only you?
“no…” you whispered, continuing your stare on her as you went to take yet another shot. you were already starting to feel a buzz, already starting to feel the heat in your tummy. with a slightly clouded head, you turned to ellie. she was smirking, her eyes knowing as her lips parted once more.
“how about you give it a go?” ellie asked you, and you felt some relief.
“h-have you guys ever, um… have you guys ever… had a threesome?” you asked in a low voice. you watched abby roll her eyes and go to grab her glass, as with ellie.
“o—kay, my turn,” ellie clasped her hands together, after setting her glass back down, “ever taken it up the ass, y/n?”
“why are you only asking me?” you gawked, reaching for your glass. you took the next shot, and felt a sudden need for more.
“because we already know what we’ve did,” abby replied, another shot of the vodka slithering down her throat. “mm, that’s some good shit. so, y/n, have you ever topped?” you sighed as you reached for the glass once more. “oh, so you’re a bottom? figures. i mean, look at you.” you looked up at her, slightly offended whilst your hands went to pour yourself another shot.
“have you guys ever, uh, had public… sex?” you found yourself boldly asking, obvious that this drink was getting to you. they both raised their glasses to their lips.
this went on and on, mostly them asking you, you sometimes asking them until you were all drunk out of your minds.
“y/n,” ellie finally groaned and she scooted closer to you. you hadn’t realized the proximity of them both, slowly decreasing as the night went on. you hummed a response, your eyes half closed and your face hot. “h’ve you ever, uh, fantasized? about us?” ellie asked, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. your hand didn’t reach for the glass, rather you simply stared into those green eyes. “yeah? you have? why didn’t you tell us? we coulda’ made all of your dreams come true, sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand meeting your waist.
“i-i was n-nervous,” you whined, “didn’ wanna say anythin’…”
“y/n, baby,” abby purred into your ear, “you don’ gotta be nervous ‘round us.” your head throbbed as you bit your lip; their hands explored your body, slowly molding you into your arousal. you wondered if this was their plan all along as their fingers danced around your PJs, caressing your inner thighs…
“please,” you whispered and their eyes flickered toward you. “…t-touch me…” you sighed blissfully as ellie’s hand finally met with your pajama-clad vulva. abby’s head dipped into the crook of your neck; she kissed up your neck and throat, then tilted your head toward hers to kiss your lips. sloppily, her tongue slipped into your mouth, prodding and massaging your tongue. your own mingled with hers, dancing around each other’s. you barely noticed your bottoms being tugged down, only realizing once the chill of the air hit your heat.
“lemme taste ‘er first,” abby said quickly as she pulled away from your swollen lips.
“no,” ellie whined, tugging your body toward hers.
“it was my idea,” she growled in return, “now let me have her first.” ellie huffed, but let go. she took asylum in your breasts; lifting your shirt up, she immediately dove into your mounds. she licked up to your nipple, taking it between her lips. you let out a broken moan as she nibbled on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around your pebbling nipples.
abby slid your legs open with her hands, spreading your labia with her thumb.
“how long h’ve you been this wet, y/n?” an obvious rhetorical question. you were too occupied with ellie and the worship of your breasts.
“a’w-while,” you managed to croak, though. you heard her chuckle and felt your body being tugged toward her more. “mmf, abby, be gentle…” ellie watched as abby’s head dipped between your legs, then her eyes flickered to your face to watch it contort in pleasurable expressions. “abby… ngh…” your hand reached to tug at her blonde hair, earning a groan from her lips.
“i heard she’s a p-pro,” ellie whispered to you while she tugged off her bottoms. your eyes fluttered, staring dazed at the sight of her pussy.
“want,” you purred out. ellie only smirked at you, her hands moving in to shove you down onto the couch. her legs straddled your head and she lowered herself onto you without warning, virtually smothering you. “mmf!” your brows were furrowed, your nose smooshed against her wet cunt. she ground her hips into your face, covering it in her slick.
“c’mon, y/n, thought you wanted it.” your doe eyes kept gazing up at her and you began to do the best you could with her weight in your face, your tongue working hard against her swollen clit.
both of the feelings were intoxicating, abby at your pussy, you at ellie’s. your legs tightened around abby’s head as her fingers found your g-spot, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. you moan into ellie, slurping at the nectar leaking from her. you’re so intoxicated, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or this delicious feeling. your hands gripped ellie’s sides and you pulled her closer. you were whimpering, moaning, abby’s tongue wriggling into you, her fingernails digging into your plush thighs.
“mmm!” you cried, your eyes shutting as you felt a knot in your stomach begin to uncoil, your juices coating abby’s tongue and face.
“ahn, yeah,” abby groaned. “righ’ on my tongue, sweethear’.” your eyes were rolling, face scrunched in pleasure. it was a sure sight for ellie, drawing - no, forcing ellie’s own climax to follow suit. her arousal painted you, creaming on your face as she held your head close to her.
“oh, god, please please please — fuck!”
she ground against you, riding her orgasm out in your face. her clit bumped your nose, and your hands gripped her hips, slowly guiding her to a halt as she came down. as she got up from you, she took a moment to admire her work. your face looked so exhausted, wet with her, and needy for more.
“abby,” ellie said, “g-go get the…” she gestured into the direction of the bedrooms, then abby knew what she was talking about. she made her way into one the bedrooms, who knows which, and rummaged through. you watched the hallway curiously, ready for her arrival. you tried to sit up, but ellie only grabbed you, laying you down on her thighs. when abby came out, you were surprised to find her pant-less, and with a harness strapped to her person, not to mention a dildo hanging from it. she approached, slow and cautious steps. you couldn’t tell if she was trying to tease you or try to get you into the idea.
“you wan’ it?” she asked you, slowly crawling into the sofa, then nudging and prodding your wetness with the head.
“wan’ it.”
“alrigh’, sweet girl,” she breathed, easing the head into your slippery entrance. “good?” you nodded your head, egging her on silently.
“abby,” you moaned breathlessly. she shushed you, halting her movements so you could get used to her. she ran her rough hands down your sides, down, down, to your clit, gently rubbing it to make you feel some sort of goodness as she stood still. “move, please,” you whimpered.
“y/n, you should see ‘yer face right now,” ellie giggled, caressing the side of your head. “god, y’so pretty. fuck ‘er, abby, hurry. look at ‘er face.” abby rolled her eyes, not usually taking commands. she was going to anyway, but…
“oh!” you gasped from her sudden movements, a tight snap from her hips. “f-fuck!”
“mmm, ‘n moans so pretty,” ellie praised, “didn’ get to hear ‘ya so well when you were under me. gettin’ smothered by my pussy... mhm…” she caressed your face again, cupping your cheeks as abby began to pound you.
“abby!” you cried to her, eyes shut tight, hands flailing to find somewhere to rest. they found abby’s biceps, gripping them tightly as she slapped her hips against yours. “please, ngh!” you grit your teeth, jaw clenched while pleasure overtook you.
“eyes open,” abby growled, “‘n on me.” you had to fight yourself to open your eyes, but the sight in front of you was perfect. abby’s blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her braid dangling and swinging with each thrust, her slack jaw, fuck. “yeah, ‘atta girl.” she was thrusting just right, obviously so experienced. it was pleasing her, too, the strap hitting just right at her swollen clit.
how badly you wanted to touch her body, worship her like you did quietly with her eyes. she was like a greek god, muscular and sculpted so perfectly. especially now, sweat marbling her skin and her chiseled body over yours. you almost forgot ellie was there, being as (almost) quiet as she was. glancing up, you caught sight of her, her fingers buried into her cunt. the sight alone was enough to make you cum once more, but you couldn’t, not so early. you looked back up at the deity above you who was staring into your eyes.
“abby,” you groaned. you threw your head back, going dumb on her cock. “right there… f-please…” cross-eyed, you sobered up a little as you felt a harsh pain on your breasts. “oh!” you gasped, feeling her large hand slap your chest. “abby!”
“take my cock, girl,” abby panted, hands squeezing your breasts, using them as leverage as she continued her pounding.
“fu—ck,” ellie groaned to the sight of you and to the noise of her fingers in her cunt, squelching, obscene, and loud. “y’doing so good, y/n… yes… uhn!”
you ran your hand up abby’s biceps, wrapping your arms around her neck. this prompted her to lean in and kiss your lips, deep and hungry. your hand cupped her cheek, pulling her close while your lips collided. abby pulled away first to admire your body and you took this moment to lift your arms above your head, desperately trying to pull ellie closer by her legs. she scoot closer and you cocked your head to the side, immediately licking at her cunt.
“yeah,” abby moaned, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. “lick ‘er fuckin’ pussy.” she gripped your waist, hurriedly thrusting into you, her clot bumping against the harness. “fuck, i’m cumming!” she moaned, collapsing onto you as she came. she kissed at your neck, bit at it, too, while she continued to thrust, needing you to cum, too. her fingers finding your clit, furiously rubbing it.
you couldn’t help it anymore; biting into ellie’s thigh, you came. squirted, actually. all over her cock, all over her abdomen. your body was convulsing, shaking and twitching for her. ellie followed in suit, your teeth pushing her over the edge as they sunk deeper into her. all three of you were moaning, crying, holding each other tight.
“fuck,” you were the first to say. abby slowly pulled out of you, panting deeply.
“you squirted,” abby chuckled with admiration. she squeezed your thighs and glanced up at ellie, “all good?” she asked. ellie nodded.
“yeah, just,” she sighed blissfully, “fuck. we should do this again.” you giggled and kissed ellie’s thigh.
“mhm,” you agreed.
maybe your (sex?) life has just changed for the better.
848 notes · View notes
fbfh · 1 year
Text
rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs
wc: 2.3k
genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)
summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.
warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison
a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao
@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01
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First of fucking all
Match made in heaven
On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads 
You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods
You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels
You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss
You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress 
You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident 
You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses 
You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness 
People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills
She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down
To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there
Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are
You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about
Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend
You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique 
By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school
As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly
Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back
But a lot of the time people just stare at you
You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do
Or glitter
Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework
So you try to chalk it up to that 
As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you
You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer 
Which is almost worse
When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her
But you??
You’re so elusive 
You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there
But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out
Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out
But when the captain of the football team 
And the quarterback 
And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out
And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other
No one else thought they stood a chance
Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down
“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively
“Hot jocks?” Heather demands
You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up
“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you
Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot
But you’re also impossible to date
This becomes common knowledge after a while
Until one day when you’re running late to school
Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister
“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her
As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you
A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb
Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day
Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver
Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb
He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt
As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly 
“Who is that?” you ask
Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot
They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell
“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.” 
A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information
“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”
“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him
“Black hair, black shirt…”
Finally they see him
“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.” 
She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside
You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello
Madison leans in close
“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.” 
It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet
If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague… 
Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him
Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland
“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick 
He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past 
“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides
“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.” 
They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day
He can’t focus even more than usual
Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?
He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does 
And just like always, his mind starts to wander
Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not
He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close
He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin
He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments
Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like 
Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it
He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored
God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you
He’s had countless dreams about you to
He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time
He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name
And why would you want to??
He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song
Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him
He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal
Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16
You’re literally untouchable 
Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad
Not even back when he liked Heather
The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him
The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much 
He thinks about you so much
It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time
And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it
Because he doesn’t stand a chance
There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him
Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year
Why would you want to go out with him???
Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing
You could easily pull anyone in this entire school
And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????
It doesn’t make sense 
They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day
Neither can you
You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)
How to get his attention (you already have it)
How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)
A party
You have to throw a party and get his band to play
Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere
It’s perfect
Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over
You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend
She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on
She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you
You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too
You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick 
Nothing can possibly go wrong
So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before
You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out
He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him 
It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem
Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire 
So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend 
It feels like a fucking dream
Not only do they have a gig
But it’s at your party???? 
It feels fake
It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about
They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party
And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him
Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him
There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??
He watches you walk away
And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him
You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible 
“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state
“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip
You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day
You decide this party really cannot come soon enough
If you play your cards right
You might even get him to like you back
You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party
And thinking about you just as much
6K notes · View notes
onlyswan · 6 months
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summary: in which jungkook loves to see you smile and you are the god of mischief.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff / word count: 2.6k
content/warnings: mention of childhood insecurity, mention of biting during s*x, jk is very touchy, they watch a movie and the guard thinks they’re doing sumn nasty bc they’re both a menace honestly 😭, jk accidentally bites his lower lip and bleeds
> in which masterlist!
note: hi !! this is a repost of a drabble i wrote two (?) years ago but accidentally deleted lololol so if you’ve read it before that’s why! but this is now an edited version with a new title <3
“baby,”
jungkook calls your attention out of nowhere, pausing the movie playing on the tablet you’re holding. the frown painted on his face is difficult to miss.
“i have a question.”
“so randomly?” you raise an eyebrow. “ask me then.”
“why do you cover your face when you’re happy?”
the wide-eyed look of genuine curiosity on his face is identical to yesterday’s, when he asked you what the word ineffable meant after hearing it in a song.
the question prompts you to take a glance at the screen, where a sophisticated woman has a hand over her mouth as she giggles with her elite acquaintances about an old but classic rich husband joke.
“it’s not that it bothers me, i just- i’ve noticed it lately and i-i wish to see you smiling and laughing more freely, you know?” he tries his best to choose his words carefully, offering you a kind smile as he lovingly caresses your head. “it makes me happy when i see you happy.”
“oh,” you blink at him, mind going blank as you attempt to form an answer in your head. his touch isn’t exactly helping you either— you just want to melt into him and not think of anything at all, float on cloud-nine and stay there forever.
however, seeing as he asked you the question out of the blue, he must’ve been thinking about it a lot. you’ve only been dating for a few months, so it’s understandable for him to eagerly seek the answers to his curiosities and observations. if anything, it feels nice to learn he gives this much attention to you— possibly notices things you don’t even know about yourself. for a split second the thought crosses your mind, that beyond a consciousness, you are tangible and real.
“it’s a habit i guess? when my teeth were falling out for the first time as a kid, i became insecure, so i decided that i’d just smile without showing my teeth from then on. like this.”
you demonstrate by lifting up the corners of your lips.
“and yeah-”
as if he’s helplessly pulled by the magnet of attraction, he leans down to kiss you and interrupt your sentence.
“i’d cover my face when i couldn’t contain my smile or laugh. and even when they grew back, it felt weird. like my smile didn’t belong to my face? if that even makes sense.”
“yah, that’s not true! you’re very pretty whether you’re smiling, or crying and-” his warm hand cups your cheek, and he stupidly grins as he’s about to say something cheesy. “even when you’re just breathing.”
the corners of your lips rise again. this time, it’s genuine.
“oh? how romantic.” you scrunch your nose cutely, and his heart flutters.
you hold onto his wrist, revelling in the way his thumb softly traces shapes on your skin.
“i’m over that, though. it was so long ago. i don’t think about it obsessively anymore at least. it’s really just a habit i haven’t gotten rid of.” you reassure him, meaning every word that you say.
we all have our secrets and fears that we keep only to ourselves, that much is understood between the two of you. there are circumstances in which withholding information is necessary. however, the one big promise you made to each other is to never lie. honesty and trust. ease and consolation. every word, every syllable hanging from your lips an addition to the naked history of your love. passed down stories. confessions. blurry memories. shutter sounds. curses. laughter. song dedications. that much is true.
“why are you looking at me like that?” you bite the inside of your cheek to conceal a smile, beguiled by his love drunk eyes seemingly stunned by your mere presence beside him.
“like what, baby?”
you shy away from his gaze. “like you’re either thinking that i hang the stars on the sky every night… or that you want to eat me alive.”
to confirm your words true, he takes your hand and sinks his teeth on the flesh of your palm where your thumb is connected. his wide doe eyes peer at you innocently, sparkling like of a little kid eating the fluffy pancakes he’s been craving since last night.
the latter might sound like a joke to others, but jungkook does eat you alive. almost. basically. you’re not even shocked at the act anymore. soon enough, you’ll memorize the mark of his teeth carving their mark on your skin, both in sexual and non-sexual setting.
“babe,” you send him a bewildered stare. “i really don’t think i taste as good as you make me out to be.”
he parts away with his eyebrows knitted in disagreement. “not true. you’re yummy.”
“oh, shut up!” you burst into a fit of giggles. your hands automatically attempts to fly to your face, but he has your wrists bound with his secure grip. you don’t resist. you only laugh harder when your sight lands on your hands tangled together.
“there’s ____’s beautiful smile.” he coos, proceeding to pepper your face with appreciative kisses.
and you fold. your back lands on the soft mattress, and your belly starts aching from laughter when he purposely blows on the spot on your neck where you’re most ticklish. hot tears gather at the corner of your eyes, and jungkook watches them fall down your temples as his lips graze your skin and your body shakes underneath him.
tears of joy and pleasure are the only tears you’re going to shed, he promises himself. you’re going to smile and make flowers bloom everyday, he promises you and the earth.
your teeth chattering from the cold is a shy away from your awkward smile, he notices the endearing resemblance as you shiver beside him.
“hmm, what did i tell you about cinema one?” he teasingly asks as he draws back the armrest that serves as a divider between the two of you.
“that it’s fucking cold in there-” you surrender, tone sounding annoyed. “here. whatever!”
“and who still decided to wear their smallest pieces of clothing?” he continues to taunt you while he pulls you into his body’s natural warmth.
you sigh, whether it’s in relief or annoyance, you’re not quite sure.
“i just wanted to wear my new cute clothes.” you whisper-shout.
the giant screen is still playing trailers of the upcoming movies this year, and you’re already mentally updating your calendar to accommodate them despite your hectic schedule. a two-hour vacation, you would always describe films.
he chuckles, and more shivers run down your spine at the deep and raspy sound being so close to your ear. “you do look cute today, baby.”
he catches the cloth of your skirt between his fingers, and somehow, he ends up squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh. you swallow thickly, unconsciously closing your thighs together and trapping his hand in between them.
“thank you, handsome.” you grip his wrist to move it away. you tut. “no silly business, though. i really want to watch this movie.”
his shoulders drop dramatically in disappointment. “okay… want to sit on my lap so i can keep you warm then?”
you look behind you to see that there’s no people sitting on your side, so no one’s view would get blocked if you were to agree to his proposition. the room is practically empty, with a few scattered people sitting on the sides.
you spend the first fifteen minutes of the movie in comfort and bliss, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. he took off his jacket earlier, and he splayed it over your lap as to not neglect the goosebumps rising all over your freezing legs.
“so stubborn,” jungkook muttered under his breath while he was taking off the jacket, an amused smile etched on his lips. you would’ve felt bad, but you knew he likes doing these things for you, so you only playfully stuck your tongue out at him.
look, to be fair, it is your first time in this cinema. you’ve been on many dates at this theater with jungkook, but for some reason, you’ve never watched a movie in cinema one until tonight. it’s cold in the other three cinemas as well, the kind of cold you’ve gotten comfortable with, so when jungkook booked the tickets last night and told you ‘it’s really cold in there, wear something warmer,’ you thought he was just being ridiculous.
hah, how cold could it possibly be? right?
fine, jungkook is right. you are stubborn.
and you prove it once more when a flashlight shines over your face. the security guard holding it approaches your seat- wait, no, jungkook’s seat. jungkook is your seat. what?!
“i’m sorry, but only one person can sit on the chair. please comply.”
you trace the direction of her eyes to find jungkook’s hands tucked underneath the jacket on your lap, resting on your inner thighs to steal their warmth. you send him a sharp glare, but it doesn’t affect him one bit. he only shrugs, obviously hiding a smirk as he pretends to be the most innocent person in the room.
you pull up the armrest next to you with a pout, slipping back into your original seat against your wishes.
“he was just warming up his hands. i promise!” you whisper not so subtly to the guard.
she only clears her throat and awkwardly nods in response, walking up the stairs to observe the rest of the movie watchers.
you bury your face in your hands as your body vibrates with mirth mixed with humiliation, and jungkook’s jaw nearly falls on the floor.
“sometimes i can’t believe you’re real. how do you never get shy?”
“i was just clearing things up!” you whine, hitting his arm using the side of a closed fist, which he massages with a squeaked ‘ouch.’ “you’re the one who put me in a compromising situation!”
“well, nobody told me taking care of my girlfriend was a crime!”
you carry on with watching the movie after that embarrassing scene, and you’ve forgotten that you’re cold until you’re uncontrollably shivering again. you begin rubbing your arms in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the goosebumps, but you eventually abandon all hope.
you sadly look over at your boyfriend to plead for help once more, but he has gotten too engrossed with the film to feel a pair of shaking pupils beseech him intensely. he finally opened the box of popcorn he’s been saving for the climax.
and he was the one who wanted to do something other than watch the movie.
you grimace.
you are no stranger to his confusing attention span.
after carefully studying the room to ensure the guard is no longer in sight, you unceremoniously climb on jungkook’s lap again. your actions cause some pieces of popcorn to fall from the box, and he scrambles to stuff them all in his mouth before the powder stains any of your clothes. yours are new, after all.
his face displays a puzzled expression, screaming i thought this was supposed to be a compromising situation?! and his soft rosy cheeks on the other hand-
“you look like a chipmunk who got caught in the headlights stealing food with its mouth full.”
the screen flashes a frame of the clear, blue sky in the aftermath of a ferocious storm. it sends the fleeting sunlight to shine on your face— just long enough for him to capture the image of how pretty you are when you giggle, and most of all, how your hand moves to cover your face, but drops on his arm before it could reach its intended destination.
he recognizes it as a conscious effort, and he feels a tug in his heart. his sweet, precious lover. you will never do anything wrong in his eyes, he thinks to himself as he hugs you closer for a kiss. the feeling of your smile against his lips might just be one of his most favorite things in the world.
he pulls away with a toothy grin to match yours, offering you the box of popcorn. the beautiful smile you claimed to not belong on your face lingers as you turn it down and sip on the lemonade instead. and then it simmers down to your usual mellow smile, to a deep frown, until your lips quiver as the resolution of the film reduces you into a puddle of tears.
jungkook likes to keep mental notes about you.
an excerpt from today:
1. how to make ____ smile? act cute.!! :)
2. how to make ____ cry? watch a son and mother reunite after eighteen long years.
p.s. i think i cried harder, but quieter ????
3. how to make ____ angry mad furious? kill off the said mother unnecessarily at the end of the movie for the sake of shu shock value.
the lights turn on all at the same time as the credits start rolling down on the plain black screen. your body slumps back on your boyfriend, drained by the series of overwhelming events that transpired in the past two hours. he waves his hand infront of your face, but your eyes remain unfocused and unblinking.
“this is the worst movie i have ever seen in my life. four out of five stars.”
he snorts at your unseriousness. “that is the most stars you’ve given this month. and it’s the 29th.”
“see? it’s the worst! i’m going to have nightmares!” you cry out with an exaggerated shudder, grabbing his forearms to envelope yourself in his embrace.
“honestly, pushing her off the cliff was a bit too mu-” his sentence gets rudely cut off when your shoulder accidentally hits his chin. you scrambled to go back to your seat, and this escalated to him accidentally biting the inside of his lower lip. the unusual mix of the bitter and salty taste of metal permeates his tongue as an unexplainable expression spreads across his face.
on the other hand, you’re too preoccupied with mischievously smiling at the guard standing down on the floor. she measures you up with a displeased look worse than earlier’s, but much to your relief, she proceeds to walk out after scanning the room one last time.
“baby!” jungkook yells in pain to grab your attention, jutting out his bottom lip to show you the wound that you inflicted.
“oh my god- shit, shit, shit-” you curse, digging your hand in your bag in search of your handkerchief. “i’m so sorry!”
you press the cloth on the bleeding, profusely apologizing to him with a wince. “i panicked! i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”
he pushes your wrist away for a moment, doe eyes squinting at you accusingly. “you just wanted to play around with her, didn’t you?”
you chew on your bottom lip, the sight of blood that has stained the handkerchief sends a pang of guilt across your chest. “sorry… her face- she was just so funny.”
“fuck, why are you like this?!” he throws his head back with a bright laugher that echoes throughout the theater. “ah, you’re so adorable!”
“come back here!” you scold him, holding his face in your hands to crane it back down.
he juts out his bottom lip again, but his body continues to vibrate with lighthearted chortles.
“does it hurt?”
“it hurts…! i think i might seriously cry!” he answers despite his high tolerance for pain, distorting the truth so that he could drown himself in the gratifying feeling of being doted on by you.
he writes another mental note as you inspect his wound, repetitive bloopers playing in the background of the love bubble the two of you share.
4. ____ likes playing games with strangers. must protect with my life.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
1K notes · View notes
ymechi · 6 months
Text
The hidden creator
I had a plot bunny idea
TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere
-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)
EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)
Creator Reader Pov:
-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places
-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories
-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea
-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew
-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent
-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you
-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now
-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine
-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items
-overall you are content
-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times
-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him
-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.
-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you
-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave
-Overall you were doing okay
-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore
-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you
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Tsaritsa Pov:
-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake
-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage
-Even if she had to stain her hands
-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat
-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground
-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.
-You were their true creator
-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated
-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.
-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .
-You were safer hidden among mortals
-It left a bitter taste in her mouth
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Neuvilette Pov
-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters
-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this
-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened
-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up
-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop
-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside
-Then he saw you and everything clicked
-It was you his creator his universe his everything
-You were back
-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human
-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here
-His heart ached seeing you
-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him
-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-
-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you
-Attention that would cause you trouble
-He left with defeat on his steps
-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck
-All for your sake
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